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fawniswriting · 2 months ago

Text

After I Was Too Late

This fic can be read as a stand-alone or as a sequel to Before I Could Say It.

The above image does not indicate the reader's physical appearance.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Synopsis: The three times Bucky saved your life, and the one time you save each other.

Word Count: 10.1k (I got carried away)

Warning(s): gn!reader (pls advise me if there's any gender-specific detail in the fic), canon typical violence, angst, fluff, near death experience(s), hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, physical injuries, it's a kinder ending this time I promise 🥺❤️ (lmk if I missed anything!!)

Author's Note: PT 2 IS FINALLY HERE Y'ALL!! I'm so sorryy for the delay, my work has been out of control lately (I legit had to go home at 9.30 PM last week 😭🙏🏼). But I've finally finished this piece, and I hope you guys like it!! I'm tagging everyone who left a comment/reblog-comment on the first part but if you prefer to keep the ending to the fic as it was, then you can just skip reading this. And if any of you want to be removed from the taglist, please just let me know!! As always, don't forget to comment, like, and reblog 💖

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

If someone were to ask you about the beginning, your mind would immediately go straight to that day.

Six years ago, your thread of fate wove into his, placing the two of you on polar ends in the middle of a highway shoot-out that revealed the face beneath the infamous Winter Soldier's mask. You recognized him from the sketches littered across Steve Roger's desk: Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky, as Steve had called him. A shadow of the past, long presumed gone to the clutches of war and time.

Yet, there he was.

Alive and breathing.

And he was trying to kill you.

After the events in D.C., you helped the Captain search for the man who had risen from the dead. You saw Bucky's apartment in Bucharest—a depressing little hole in the wall that was barely suitable for a human being to live in. It nicked at your chest, wrestled with a docile side of your heart that you hadn't entertained since they had dubbed you one of earth's mightiest heroes. And when you finally stood in front of the man—not the Soldat, not the merciless assassin who had sliced a dagger to your side two years prior—your chest tapered at the quiet war waging behind his eyes.

“I wasn't in Vienna,” Bucky told Steve. His eyes flickered briefly towards you as he said it, willing, perhaps, for at least one person in that room to put their trust in him; the man standing vulnerably in that apartment, not the weapon he was forced to become.

“I don't do that anymore,” he added.

You believed him.

Steve did, too.

The next few hours were a whirlwind of chasing and being chased. After Zemo broke the Winter Soldier out of the facility in Berlin, you took Steve and Sam to an abandoned site you once neutralized where the three of you could keep Bucky safe from the authorities. You watched from the sideline as Steve interrogated Bucky for answers, listening intently while the Captain and the Falcon began rummaging their heads for a viable plan of action.

Once Sam left to reach out to his contacts, Steve also excused himself from the room, muttering something about needing to make a phone call and leaving you alone with the burly man who was trying miserably to hide behind his curtain of hair.

Wordlessly, you walked towards the paper bag you kept on a rusty oil barrel, grabbing one of its contents before cautiously approaching the brooding man in the center of the room. Bucky looked up the moment you shoved the packaged croissant in his face, confusion shining with blue under the taut crease of dark eyebrows.

“Take it,” you said simply.

Bucky's frown deepened as he stared at your hand.

You masked the sinking feeling in your stomach with a sigh, putting the package next to the makeshift chair Bucky was sitting on.

“You haven't eaten since yesterday.” Your hands were buried in the pocket of your jeans as you spoke, hiding the tremble in them so the man in front of you wouldn't see just how much your heart was breaking for him. “We have a long journey ahead of us. And if Steve is anything to go by when it comes to a super soldier's calorie intake, you must be running on extreme deficit by now.”

Bucky stayed silent.

You scraped the ground with the toe of your shoes, trying to fill in the quietness as you rambled, “I would've loved to prepare you a nice three-course meal, but considering half of the world is on our asses, I didn't think you'd mind a small downgrade. Believe me, I'd kill for a real croissant right now. There's a bakery near the Avengers’ old tower whose owner makes the best chocolate and butter croissants. They're fantastic. This one tastes like a foam board compared to them.”

Bucky continued to stay silent, only perusing you under his intense gaze. You rubbed the back of your neck and managed an awkward chuckle. “You know what? You don't have to eat that. It tastes terrible anyway. I'll just throw it out. Let me see if the pigeons would like some.”

You reached out to grab the plastic packaging, but Bucky stopped you in tracks, grabbing the croissant with a hesitant drag of his hand.

“Thank you,” he muttered curtly.

The sight in front of your eyes would have made you chortle under any other circumstances—the ludicrousness of seeing a Herculean with a metal arm grappling with the flimsy packaging of a factory-made pastry. The croissant was ridiculously small in Bucky’s hand, and you felt foolish for thinking it could offer anything close to sufficient sustenance for a man his size. He could probably devour the whole thing in a single bite and still be starving.

And yet, before he even savored a taste, Bucky tilted the croissant towards you in a silent proposition. An offer to share. To tear the pastry in two as if he didn't barely have enough for himself in the first place. The gesture lurched at something in your chest, winding down your ribs like overgrown vines.

You feigned a smile, feeling it crack around the sorrow you were desperately trying to quell. “That’s for you, Bucky,” you told him softly. “I have mine.”

The man nodded, hesitantly, as if the thought of having something to himself was stranger than fiction. He took a tentative bite, his forehead creasing as he chewed on the sad excuse of a pastry.

“Bad, huh?” You cringed sheepishly. “Told you. It's borderline inedible. You don't have to finish it if you don't want to.”

“I've had worse.”

You clenched your teeth.

There was no room for doubt in your mind that he probably did have worse than an additive-laden confectionery.

“Yeah?” You didn't know why you were asking. “Like what?”

The metal fingers on Bucky's thigh whirred, like he was flexing, removing the stiffness in his joints if there had been flesh instead of vibranium. You waited with bated breath as he stared at a suspicious puddle on the ground.

“I was stuck in an underground cave system once,” Bucky began, pausing to take a tiny bite of the croissant. He looked defenseless that way. Almost like a child. “Spent a few days there. The only thing around me were bats.”

Your nose wrinkled. “You ate bats?”

Bucky didn't attempt to correct your assumption, just kept on munching on the artificial croissant as if he were a kid snacking on candy.

“Were they… good?”

Stupid.

What an incredibly, unbelievably stupid question.

“They were good enough to keep me alive.”

You didn't know what to say to that.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “just tell me if you change your mind on that croissant. I can get you something else. Remember those pigeons I mentioned? They're not bats, but they've got, you know… protein.”

Then, upon some kind of miracle, it happened.

Bucky smiled.

It was brief, an ephemeral thing that evaporated by the next time you blinked, but it was there. As clear as day, as real as the foul smell of rotten carcasses that surrounded you in that dismal place.

You willed for the excitement in your belly to die down—the last thing Bucky needed was for you to go deranged over a mere smile, probably one of the firsts he allowed himself to have after decades of drought—giving Bucky a short nod before turning around to reward him some privacy, but you didn't go far before a rough voice halted your footsteps.

When your gaze landed on him again, Bucky was tense. His shoulders curled inward as if struggling desperately to keep himself small, his fingers twitched where they were curled around the half-eaten pastry.

“Are you okay?” he eventually asked.

“Me?” Your eyebrows knitted in a mixture of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I'm fine? Well, as fine as one can be after becoming a fugitive of the law, but otherwise—”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His scrutiny roved over your figure from the distance, as though his stare could penetrate through the deepest layer of skin, lighting up a flame that licked through every inch of your bloodstream. Blue irises jerked towards the side of your abdomen, a fleeting tic, but it was enough to force the realization to dawn on you.

Bucky was talking about your wound.

The laceration wound that he—no, that the Soldat—had administered during your altercation in D.C.

Instinctively, your hand lifted, brushing against the jagged scar that you knew was seething under the cover of your shirt. The simple movement didn't escape Bucky's notice, and you chastised yourself for your lack of consideration when you saw his body fold lower towards his knees.

“Bucky—”

“I'm sorry,” he said heavily, shakily. A striking fragility from a man who was supposed to be carved out of steel.

You shook your head in urgency, crossing the distance between you and him before stopping a good six feet away from the defeated man. He didn’t even look up at your proximity, keeping his head angled to the ground, shrinking more and more with every passing second as if he wanted to disintegrate into oblivion.

With careful strides, you removed the remaining space separating you and Bucky, sinking to your knee right in front of him. You called his name softly, begging him to glance up, coaxing him out of the shell of condemnation that he had crawled himself into.

When he finally peered at you, the blue of his eyes had dimmed into a stormy gray. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to lean forward and gather this broken man into your arms.

“Bucky,” you called his name again, resolutely this time. Firm and steady, offering no room for even an ounce of doubt or a breath of protest. “It wasn't your fault.”

Bucky fleered.

“I mean it.” You searched his gaze, commanding him to stay there, to not run away from your eyes because you needed him to hear this. You needed him to believe. “I'm not gonna hold you accountable for what happened on that highway, or for anything else you might have done in the past few decades. None of that is your fault. They used you. You couldn't even remember your own name, let alone understand what HYDRA was forcing you to do. You're also a victim here, Bucky.”

He shook his head.

Your heart shattered into tiny little pieces all over the ground.

You shifted on the ball of your knee, sighing as you felt exhaustion pulling at your limbs.

“Steve would agree,” you said quietly.

Those three words managed to snatch Bucky's attention.

“Actually, Steve does agree.” You glimpsed towards the entrance where the Captain had disappeared through earlier, swallowing the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “It's the reason why he's here. The reason why we all are. He is the literal embodiment of everything good in this world, Bucky. And if Steve Rogers—Captain America himself—looks at you and sees someone worth saving, someone who deserves a second chance despite all that happened, then that says everything I need to know about the kind of man you truly are.”

You waited for something to shift, for the contempt in his eyes to dissipate, for the strain in his shoulders to melt, but nothing happened. He continued to drown, making no moves to get himself out of the murky waters that were pulling him under.

“Everything that happened while you were under HYDRA’s control—the missions, the casualties—none of it is on you, Buck,” you pressed on. “The wound on my side? That wasn't your fault either. Hell, I was shooting at you, too! I didn't know who you were back then. You didn’t know me. You didn’t even know yourself. They made sure of that.”

You took a shuddering breath, physically readying yourself to voice the next conviction out loud.

“If someone has to carry the blame, it should be HYDRA,” you determined. “Not you, Bucky. Never you.”

The silence that followed was strangulating. You watched Bucky with heart in your throat, waiting for him to react, to do something or say something. Perhaps if he had cried, it would've been better. Because then, you might have been able to help, to offer him the solace of your arms, to teach him how he could peel back the guilt that was clinging to him like a second skin.

Yet, Bucky just sat, still as a tombstone and quiet as a graveyard.

The eerie calm before a catastrophic storm.

When he finally looked up, Bucky's eyes were a tempest—dark and turbulent, thundering with the repercussions of a hundred lifetimes he never asked to live.

“Maybe—” Bucky's voice quivered. He ran his flesh hand across his face and started over, “Maybe you're right.

Your chest staggered.

Before you could respond, Bucky's gaze dropped, teetering towards your side, as though he could see the ridges of skin underneath the cotton fabric of your shirt. The place where flesh had once split under a blade he hadn't even known he was holding.

On his knee, Bucky's fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach out, to inspect the remnant of the wound with his own flesh and skin but didn't know how to trust himself enough to do so.

His jaw tightened.

“But it was still me, wasn't it?” Bucky's breathing stammered. The words came out choked, as though the truth tasted like rust on his tongue. “I was still the one holding the knife, Sugar.”

The nickname maimed you more than one could expect. Had Bucky said it with enough cynicism, maybe you would have chalked it up to bitterness and moved on. But he hadn't said it like that—he had said it with a devastating frailness, a frayed piece of another life bleeding through the cracks. It came from a version of him that had smiled at strangers and walked dates home in the rain, a boy from Brooklyn who probably said it with a charming grin and a flirtatious warmth.

Your heart broke for him all over again.

You ransacked your brain for something to say, to convince Bucky that he was wrong, but the sound of incoming footsteps stripped you of the chance, forcing you to quickly rise to your feet just in time for Sam and Steve to enter the room. Your conversation with Bucky was shoved to the backburner as the other two apprised you of your next step, both unaware of the tension stretching taut in the air, suspended between you and Bucky like a ghost no one else could see.

The next thing you knew, your life was unraveling like a house of cards in the span of one night. It felt like you blinked, and suddenly you were standing in the middle of a tarmac, staring down faces you used to sit with during breakfast and mission briefings, others who carried the weight of loyalty you could no longer afford.

The spider-like kid who loved to crawl on things was the first one you faced. He was nimble, all limbs and chatter, a fleck of innocence to testify to his lack of experience. You tuned out his nervous jokes and wide-eyed commentary as you focused on blocking each of his strikes, breathing through the ache in your ribs, willing your body to stay sharp.

But then, your instincts faltered.

The agonized sound wasn't loud, especially compared to the surrounding chaos that had befallen the airport. Your eyes flitted towards the man anyway, as if having a mind of their own, making you lose your footing for a fraction of second as your gaze landed on him from the distance.

Bucky.

The sight of him staggering back—blood blooming across his skin like a crimson tear—rustled an unknown weight within your chest. Natasha stood just a few paces away, her favorite knife in hand, the blade gleaming in the same shade of red running in rivulets down Bucky's cheek.

The moment of distraction was fleeting. Short. But it was the only opening your opponent needed to yank you off balance and send your back straight to the ground.

“Sorry,” the Spidey kid huffed, straddling your legs, his grip surprisingly strong for someone built like a string bean in spandex. “Big fan, though. Seriously. Hey, crazy idea. Maybe after all of this, you can sign my—”

He never got the chance to finish his sentence.

With a drive of your elbow to his side, coupled with a shove of your knee to his chest, Spidey was now the one pinned to the ground—winded limbs and spayed webbing as he stared up at the clouds. You rose to your feet with a heaving chest, the ground trembling beneath your boots as you stole a moment to breathe.

You didn't even notice the light shifting in the sky.

Your reflexes awakened a second too late, stirring only when a dark shadow swept over your head. There was no time to run. Whatever protective measure you could whip up, whatever direction your feet could carry you in a matter of seconds, the end result was clear—you wouldn't be able to make it out of there unscathed.

Or at least, you should not have been able to make it out of there unscathed—but you did.

Because Bucky Barnes—the Winter Soldier, the man whose name was whispered between cautions of death and terror—had saved you.

He lunged from somewhere behind the smoke, arms wrapping around your frame before shoving you forward and down. The force of the blast rocked the ground as a small aircraft detonated a few yards away, radiating a heat so raging it licked at your back. Debris rained down all around you as Bucky’s body remained curled over yours, shielding you from the worst of it, lying like a fortress between you and the explosion's aftermath.

For a moment, all you could hear was your own ragged breathing. Your ears were still ringing when Bucky finally stood up, pulling you by your elbow to your slightly unsteady feet. He examined you from head to toe, his grounding touch remaining steadfast around your forearm, eliciting goosebumps.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, still in shock. Still breathless.

“Bucky.” Your fingers convulsed, moving up to clutch his jacket and stopping once you thought better of it. “You saved me.”

He didn't answer at first, and when he did, his eyes evaded yours, jaw clenching as his gaze meandered somewhere distant. “It's the least I could do.”

Then, that same gaze moved, lowering until it settled on your side. You didn’t need him to spell it out to know exactly what he was thinking. The wound had been his doing once, delivered by a man with the same face but none of the same mercy. The shadow of a life that felt like his own but one he gravely wished to relinquish.

You felt the phantom sting of it then, not from the wound, but from the way Bucky was assessing it—like he was measuring his worth by the depth of that scar. Like saving you had been a down payment for a debt he could never repay.

Your mouth parted, already halfway to saying something, anything, that might severe the penance he had inflicted upon himself.

But before you could say a word, the world raged again, sending ripples of a faraway explosion that rattled the earth.

You swallowed hard, grounding yourself as you imparted, “We need to get to the jet.”

Bucky nodded once, his stature straightening as if his resolve had always been intact. The two of you broke into a sprint immediately, side by side, boots striking the tarmac in tandem as the smoke closed in all around you.

That was the first time Bucky Barnes saved your life.

And you knew, as you dashed across the airport grounds, that it wouldn't be the last.

After two years in Wakanda—two years since the disastrous battle on that infamous airport—you were finally bringing Bucky back home to New York.

Tony was not happy when he greeted the two of you at the compound, and you were even less thrilled to see him after everything that went down following his support for the Sokovia Accords—which, to your delight, had officially been nullified. Tony had promised he would play nice, and that included absolving Bucky—or at least, trying to—for all of the crimes that HYDRA forced him to do. It wasn't ideal, but it was a start; a show of good faith as Tony pledged to assist Bucky's recovery in every (financial) way possible.

Still, that didn't stop you from making sure that you walked in front of Bucky while the two of you were approaching the front gate, offering yourself as a human barrier should the philanthropist do anything untoward.

The first few weeks at the compound were dedicated towards ensuring a seamless transition for Bucky. From creating his daily schedule, vouching for a potential therapist, to showing him the nooks and crannies of his new home—you tackled every single task with purpose; convincing yourself that it was about structure, routine, and reintegration, but deep down, you knew better.

It was about keeping him close. Keeping him safe.

And maybe, that was exactly why you found yourself lashing out at Steve when he told you, a few weeks later, that Bucky would be sent on his first mission as an Avenger.

“This is bullshit,” you seethed, your fingers curling around the edge of the conference table in a death grip. “It's barely been two months and already they wanna send him back out there? After everything he's been through?”

The Captain sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don't like this anymore than you do—”

“Then stop it.”

“I tried!” Steve's eyebrows creased, his mouth pressed into a thin line. It was a rare sight to see Captain America this upset. “The higher-ups were asking questions, and his therapist already told them that Buck is ready. I tried talking to him about it, but he's adamant to go. There's nothing else I can do.”

“There's always something,” you retorted. “Maybe you just haven't tried hard enough.”

Despite how much your words stung, Steve forced himself to move past it. He knew they hadn't come from a place of malice. Instead, it had come from a place of affection—perhaps even love—a protectiveness he also shared towards a certain super soldier with a metal arm.

“Look,” Steve began, shifting in his seat, “have you ever thought that maybe this is what Bucky needs?”

Your head snapped up.

Steve took your silence as a cue to continue, “We know he hasn't forgiven himself yet. Not fully. And that's understandable, isn't it? Maybe what he needs, right now, is the chance to make it right. Maybe going on a mission—one he actually chooses to partake in, where he knows something good will come out of it—could be Bucky's way of making his amends.”

The Captain trailed off, letting his words linger above the tense atmosphere of the conference room.

You hated how much it made sense.

With a drop of your shoulders, you pinned your stare on the faraway wall, biting the inside of your cheek before mumbling, “Fine.”

Steve smiled, ready to wrap up the conversation once and for all when your voice interrupted him, “But I'm going.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” You got up from your own chair and sauntered towards the door, flicking a firm glance towards Steve that left no room for objection. “I'm not gonna stop you from assigning Bucky to that mission. But if he's coming, then I'm coming, too. And there's nothing you can do to stop me.”

In the end, Steve had relented, and what was once supposed to be a three-person crew's mission became four as you, Bucky, Sam, and Maria Hill took off towards Panama City.

Interference hailed the four of you upon arrival, running you into more hostiles than the initial intel had suggested. Despite your time away in Wakanda, your instincts didn’t waver. The rhythm came back effortlessly, muscle memory filling in the gaps left by your mind without a sliver of hesitation.

However, between every swift kick and precise strike, your focus frayed. Not from fear, but from a certain super soldier who was never out of your sight for long. Your gaze strayed to his silhouette again and again, making you stumble more times than you cared to admit, trying desperately to stand your ground in your own fight while keeping an eye on him all at once.

It was reckless.

And it was precisely why, as you realized too late, you ended up failing to notice the grenade.

“Watch out!”

Two strong arms—one flesh and one vibranium—shoved you out of the explosion's radius, a flying shrapnel missing your head by inches as your shoulder crashed against the ground. Bucky got thrown immediately on impact, sent over the edge of the skyscraper as the ground started to crack, fragment, and disintegrate into nothing.

“No!”

Horror erupted in your stomach at the building's cession to gravity. You scampered forward, dropping to your hands and knees to lean over the skirt where floor was supposed to be. Your relief escaped in a stammered breath when you spotted Bucky a couple of stories down, still alive, dangling by his flesh arm around the corner of a deteriorating girder.

A window pane launched into the air.

Bucky's agonized scream ripped through the chaos the moment it rammed against his left shoulder.

Something in your guts twisted at the sight of artificial axons peeking out of the ripped seams of his tactical jacket. Blood soaked through the torn fabric, staining the silver beneath in unforgiving red.

“Bucky!” Your pulse hammered. “Don't move, I'm coming to get you!”

“Don't.” Bucky's voice was stern. Final. “You gotta get outta here before the whole thing collapse.”

“I'm not leaving here without you!”

Inside your earpiece, noises began to crackle.

“Guys?” Maria's voice emerged. The sound of punches and clatter reverberated from her end of the line. “I think I need some help over here.”

“Go help Maria,” Bucky commanded.

“But you—”

“Sugar.”

The nickname halted you in place. Bucky was smiling as he looked up at you, although you knew that it was nothing more than a facade. Any other person would have been fooled by his performance, but you could easily pinpoint the shadow of a grimace he was trying to conceal, the exhaustion crippling his body as he struggled to hold himself up at an angle that wouldn't put additional strain to the already splintering steel beam.

Blue eyes softened. “I'm gonna be fine. You should go.”

Your throat constricted.

You crouched frozen on the ledge, the roar of distant gunfire echoing through the shattered high-rise. Fifty stories below, parts of the building's skeleton scattered on the ground. Your hand twitched towards Bucky, wanting to reach out, desperate to haul him back into your arms, but the chasm between you felt impossibly wide.

Meanwhile, Maria's grunts and struggle continued to echo in your ears as she seemed to wrestle a few assailants at once. You knew you should go to her aid. You knew this wasn’t the time for hesitation.

And yet… Bucky.

His lips were still curled into that easy smile—the same one he shared with you during clandestine moments around the compound, because this side of Bucky Barnes was one he reserved specifically for you. His knuckles had gone white from supporting his entire weight, the beam creaking under the slightest sway of his body, jerking slightly.

“I don’t—” Your voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” he said gently, as if he weren't hanging by one arm over nothing but air. “You save her.”

You could barely breathe.

The seconds were ticking—Maria was calling for help, and Bucky was slipping.

You weren’t enough to save both of them.

“Sam,” you gasped, pressing your hand to the comms. Static was the only response, and you prayed to the heavens above that wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he could listen to your plea. “You’ve gotta get to Bucky. Now. He’s gonna—I can’t—just… please.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretched longer than a lifetime.

Just when you began to think he wasn't going to answer, Sam's voice fizzled in, “On my way.”

The comms fell silent again.

A violent wind tore through the air, hitting like a freight train.

The steel girder—the one remaining lifeline fastening Bucky to this world—buckled with a piercing screech.

In the blink of an eye, the girder snapped.

“BUCKY!”

A blur of silver and red swooped below him in the same breath, and before you could lunge forward to follow Bucky as he fell, Sam was there—arms locked securely around Bucky’s torso, wings flaring wide to steady the sudden addition of weight. Bucky’s head dropped against Sam’s shoulder, dazed but alive. Your whole limbs teetered towards the verge of liquefying as your lungs finally released the air you didn’t know you were holding.

“You okay, man?” Sam’s voice chirped through your earpiece. “Christ, what did they feed you in Wakanda?”

A sound escaped your chest—something between a strangled sob and a wry laugh.

Gathering yourself, you pressed another hand to the comms, rising to your feet and sprinting towards the server room as you announced, “Hang on tight, Maria. I'm on my way.”

By the time you and Maria went back to the safehouse over an hour later, Sam and Bucky were already there. Bucky was lying on the couch the moment you strode in, his metal arm detached and thrown almost haphazardly on the coffee table while Sam tinkered with Redwing on the kitchen counter.

From the bandage wrapped around Bucky's shoulder, you knew that the on-site medical android had taken a look at him already, but the anxiety in your mind still wasn't pacified. It dribbled all over the floor as you marched towards him, your body shaking partly from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but also from the anger and dread boiling in your blood.

“Why the hell did you do that?!”

Venom leaked from your voice the moment you approached the couch. Behind you, Sam and Maria fell silent, readying themselves for the imminent confrontation ahead. Bucky's face remained impassive as he rose to a seating position, a faint tug at the corner of his lips.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Don't fucking sweetheart me.”

Your chest rose and fell in a dizzying rythm, daggers flying from your eyes towards the man in front of you. The same one who had nearly, stupidly welcomed death into his arms due to some kind of foolish heroism embedded in his principles. The one who was currently looking at you with cerulean eyes so tender it almost made you forget that he was close to slipping from your fingers a mere hour earlier.

Bucky let out a sigh. “I'm okay.”

“Quit talking to me like I'm stupid, Bucky. We all can see your ripped metal arm on the table. Your bandaged shoulder.”

“It's nothing.”

“It's not nothing!”

“It's nothing compared to what I've suffered before.”

An incredulous laugh tore from your larynx, sharp and sardonic. It was the only thing keeping the lump inside from choking you whole. “Just because you've survived worse doesn't mean you're fucking invincible, Buck! You could've died. You almost died. If Sam hadn't got there in time, you would've—”

The words wedged in your throat.

Your eyes fell shut as you expelled the images of Bucky dangling between life and death out of your mind.

Gentle fingers encircled your wrist. You gasped at the sudden warmth surrounding you, opening your eyes to find that Bucky had tugged you closer to stand between his parted knees. Your palms automatically landed on the column of his neck, chest pounding at the unbearable softness shining out of Bucky’s eyes.

This was new territory—Bucky had always treated closeness like something fleeting, something borrowed. His touches, his embraces, were often hesitant, as though affection was a luxury he couldn’t afford. But now, he held you like he had done it a thousand times before, like your body against his was the very thing chaining him to reality. His hand curled firmly around your waist, anchoring himself, grounding his entire existence to the certainty of your presence.

“Hey,” Bucky said, squeezing your side lightly. “I'm right here, Sugar. I'm alright.”

Your chest burned. “We almost lost you.”

“But you didn't.”

“But what if we had?!”

“Then you should take solace in the knowledge that I haven't gone in vain.”

Your fingers clenched around the edge of Bucky's shoulders, nails branding crescent moons into the skin. He didn't even flinch.

“You don't need to sacrifice your life for me, Bucky. I don't need that kind of thing on my conscience,” you spat.

“I wouldn't call it a sacrifice, sweetheart,” Bucky said firmly, resolutely. “If that's what it takes to keep you safe, then I'd gladly take the fall.”

Bucky's declaration propelled the tears you had been desperately trying to contain to the forefront. A strangled whimper shredded from your lips. You quickly tried to mask it with a scowl.

“That's the very definition of a ‘sacrifice’, you idiot.”

“Not in my book.” Bucky smiled. “Not when it's you.”

Before he could say another word, you removed the distance between you and threw yourself in his arms. The dam within you finally caved in, freeing the ragged sobs you had been trying to keep at bay. Your tears stained the collar of his undershirt, your arms locking around him tightly as though sheer willpower might fetter him to you, to life itself.

He staggered slightly under your weight, grunting from the pull on his wounded shoulder, but his hand—his only hand—immediately rose to your back, fingers splayed as they began tracing slow, calming patterns across your spine.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you whispered hoarsely. “Don’t throw yourself in front of danger for me. I don't ever want to watch you fall like that again. I can’t—”

“I know,” Bucky murmured, pressing his cheek to your temple. “I know, Sugar.”

“Promise me,” you croaked out.

He stilled for a second. “I can't,” Bucky said breathlessly. “I'd do it again in a heartbeat, sweetheart. I’ll always choose to save you.”

A fresh wave of tears surged behind your eyes. Your fingers curled tighter into the fabric of his undershirt. You hated him for that.

And you loved him even more because of it.

From behind you, someone cleared their throat.

“I hate to interrupt the Notting Hill shit we’ve got going on here,” Sam said, “but is anyone else starving or is it only the guy who just saved Barnes’ ass?”

The evening wind bit your cheeks the moment you stepped out of the bar. In a chorus of jovial shrieks and mischievous laughter, your friends from the Academy all bid each other goodbye—some heading straight home, some scuttering after the next round of drinks and fun, but all equally giddy and tipsy—stumbling on the curb and crashing against unassuming lamp posts.

“Sure you're not coming?” one of your friends asked.

“No, told you I've got an early morning tomorrow,” you slurred slightly, shaking your head twice when the face in front of you began to blur around the edges.

“Okay. Text me when you get home!”

You waved them off with a lopsided smile, turning on your heel and starting the slow trek back to the station. The pavement felt oddly slanted under your feet, and you blamed the tequila for the fifth time that night. The wind swept down the empty street, nipping at your exposed skin, sending discarded wrappers tumbling aimlessly along the sidewalk.

“Hey, Gorgeous! You need a ride?” a voice called out.

You didn’t bother looking. The city was full of idiots, and you weren’t in the mood for petty confrontations when your balance already wavered like a tightrope walker with a death wish.

You were in the midst of stifling a yawn when your foot unexpectedly hit a shallow crack in the pavement, pitching your body forward, arms flailing wildly before you caught yourself mid-fall.

The voice spoke again, this time laced with a grin that lit a match in the back of your mind, “Careful, sweetheart. Steve's gonna be pissed if you break an ankle before the mission tomorrow.”

Your eyes snapped up.

Leaning against a dark motorcycle across the street, like some kind of B-list actor playing a bad boy in a trashy movie franchise, was none other than Bucky Barnes. He looked way too good for someone who just watched you nearly eat concrete—leather jacket unzipped, gloved hand resting on the handlebar, and an easy smile tugging at his lips.

Your face broke into an instantaneous grin.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?”

You skipped across the street without looking. The squeal of tires resonated in the air, blaring horns and flashing headlights as you registered too late the oncoming car speeding your way. You stumbled in your haste to escape the street, to save yourself before your crushed skull and its content became the next headline for tomorrow's 6 A.M. news.

But before gravity could make a fool out of yourself, Bucky’s arms were already around you. He caught your body with ease, keeping your face from planting onto the curb, his broad frame shielding you from the splash of puddle as the honking car zipped past.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he muttered, his metal fingers squeezing your hip, “you lookin’ to give an old man a heart attack?”

“Sorry,” you offered sheepishly, willing the percussion in your chest to assuage. “Thanks for saving me.”

“I'd save you anytime and anywhere, Sugar.” Bucky smiled, his gaze soft and genuine despite the flirtatious nature of his words. “But it'd be nice if I didn't have to do it all the time.”

You feigned a gasp. “And here I thought you were my personal hero on call, Buck.”

The man in front of you laughed—a carefree thing with his head thrown back, ocean blue glinting under the paltry luminance of streetlights. You stepped out of his embrace with great reluctance, shivering slightly in the absence of Bucky's warmth.

The motion didn't escape Bucky's notice. “Did you not bring a jacket?”

“I did.” You wrapped yourself with your own arms, stroking the goosebumps away with your palms. “I lent it to my friend and I guess… well, I forgot to ask for it back.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because everyone knows how kind, selfless, and generous I am?” You grinned.

Bucky didn't say anything in return. Instead, he made quick work shedding the jacket off his back, revealing the outline of muscles under the gorgeous cover of dusty blue henley. Your throat went dry, every nerve ending lighting up in fireworks when Bucky stepped forward, draping the leather garment around your shoulders.

“There you go. That would have to do for now,” he muttered.

His fingertips brushed your neck as he tugged the leather collar closer around you. The scent of coffee, mint, and something indistinguishably Bucky attacked your senses, stealing your breath and leaving the taste of longing on your tongue. He looked at you in that same infuriating tenderness that made your insides spume, reduced to tiny bubbles filled with hope and yearning.

“Thanks,” you breathed out once he withdrew. “By the way, how come you're here? I thought you had that mission with Nat today.”

“I did,” Bucky replied, burying his hands in his jeans’ pockets.

Your forehead creased. “No way. Did you bail?”

“Are you crazy? Steve would have my ass.”

“Then…”

“Came straight from the jet,” he said casually, the impish quirk of his lips giving him away before his words even landed.

“You what?” You gawked. “Are you serious? Did you even debrief with Steve before you went here? Did you even go to the medbay? At all?”

“It was just recon.” He shrugged, far too nonchalant for your liking. “Nat can handle the debrief. She did all the sneaking around anyway, I barely lifted a finger.”

“That’s not the point.” You groaned, massaging the headache that had started gnawing at your temple. “Who cares if it was just recon, Bucky? The procedure says you're to go to the medbay after every mission. The rule is there for a reason. What if you were injured but you didn't even notice? What if you were exposed to a dangerous substance while you were on the field? It's incredibly reckless, stupid, and—”

Your words dissolved the moment his hands cupped your cheeks.

Bucky studied your countenance in silence, his eyes delicate, his thumbs gentle as they skimmed along your jaw. He smiled at you as if your soul was scribbled in a script only he could decipher. An intimate secret shared between the meager spaces the two of you occupied in this infinite universe.

Your breath hitched.

Everything around you tilted on its axis, the world dulling into a distant hum to make room for the cosmic threads tethering you both to each other. His eyes were tired as they locked onto yours, but behind the muted blue, something else shone through—something steadfast and searing, like an eternal flame trapped in the most secluded heights of the Himalayan range.

“I’m okay,” he said at last, voice low but certain. “I’m right here, and I’m okay.”

You didn't blink—you couldn't.

Your chest deflated in the aftermath of worry, the relief sweeping through you like a tide pulling back after a storm. Bucky withdrew, his hands leaving your face in a parting goodbye, and you had to fight the urge to yank him back in, to stay in the fragile moment that had cracked open between the two of you.

“‘Sides,” he drawled, a teasing glint replacing the ferocity in his eyes, “if I didn't pick you up, you'd probably end up passed out in a dumpster somewhere. Can't have you jeopardizing the mission like that, can I?”

You groaned and shoved his shoulder. “Ass.”

Bucky chuckled, rounding the bike before handing you a helmet. “C'mon, lightweight.”

You rolled your eyes, although the blooming smile on your face betrayed the faux irritation as you climbed onto the motorcycle. Bucky was warm in front of you, your arms finding purchase around his waist the second the engine roared to life, buildings and trees alike blurring past as the two of you sped through the streets of New York.

This time, you held Bucky a little tighter than usual, just in case he forgot how much it mattered that he made it home safely.

The pain was the first thing your brain registered.

Lights spilled through the all-encompassing darkness, rousing you awake, filling the gaps in your mind with an awareness of life. The ache traveled through your body in an unimaginable speed, a ravenous beast as it ate away your soul, and you could barely contain the pained whimper before it tumbled free out of your lips.

Something engulfed your hand.

Warmth.

“Sugar?”

You whimpered louder.

“Shit." There was a rustling by your side before the same voice sprouted again, “Hang on, sweetheart. I'll get the doctor.”

Time stumbled in and out of your grasp. You thought you could hear several voices conversing in the room not long after. One of them, unrecognizable in your ears but settled deeply within your chest, rose above all of them. It sounded desperate, broken, as if the person had attempted to barter with God using merely a mangled heart and a splintered spine.

“...please,” you caught him say, the end of a sentence blown by the breeze before you could curl your fingers around it.

“I understand, Barnes,” another voice spoke. “We'll take care of it. Just wait outside, will you?”

A pair of hands proceeded to roam over your body. You felt the pull of consciousness behind your eyelids, heaving you out of the void, an aimless ghost slipping violently back into flesh.

You gasped.

The world returned in a fragmented mosaic—white ceiling, antiseptic air, and a beeping monitor that echoed stubbornly beside your ear. Inside your body, a burning agony erupted. It sank into the deepest corners of your being, clutching around your lungs, turning you into nothing more than a wailing heap of muscles and bones.

“Hey, hey, easy now,” came a calm voice.

The words arrived in the company of gentle hands, too cold for your liking, but they were a reprieve nonetheless. The face in front of you zoomed in and out of focus like moonlight dancing across shattered glass, the contours merging and sundering as they finally morphed into the features of a familiar friend.

Dr. Helen Cho.

She pressed the back of her hand to your forehead before shining a penlight into your eyes. “Pupils reactive. That’s good. Welcome back.”

You blinked away the harsh light from your vision, wincing when the effort sent a jolt of pain through your neck and shoulder. Your lips parted in an attempt to speak, but your throat felt like it had been shoved with hot coals, shredding your voice into nothing more than a torn, fragile snivel.

“W-what… what happened?” you croaked out.

“You were shot,” Helen answered. “Do you remember?”

Just like that, the memory barreled into you like a sucker punch to the face.

Images of drab walls and ceilings, the sight of mold and moss co-existing with dead rodents’ remains filled your mind. The abandoned building once posed as the warehouse of an illegal bio-weaponry enterprise that had long ceased to operate. The Avengers’ presence on site was supposed to be a straightforward recon—gather the intel on the culpable syndicate, perhaps scour for names complicit in supplying the deadly goods in the first place—and it was implied as such on the case files given to the entire team.

No one could have predicted that the simple job would turn into an ambush.

Your mind began flipping through the pages of memory, recalling how it took you no time at all to neutralize the four agents sent your way. Under different circumstances, you might have felt offended by the measly number of hostiles assigned to you—had your thoughts, of course, not already been preoccupied with a certain super soldier. Still, any insolent disparagement your opponent once hurled at your combat abilities was indefinitely put on ice as you dashed across the site's west wing.

By the time you arrived, Bucky was already cornered.

Instinct, and something else akin to protectiveness, fueled your movements as you thundered into the room. Most of the assailants were already lying in stacks on the floor, the rest following suit with every deliberate strike you threw their way. Your chest rose and fell in erratic bursts, each breath scraping your throat as the last body hit the ground.

Across the room, Bucky rose from behind the makeshift fortress, aiming his gun before stopping dead in tracks. The corner of your mouth lifted when your gazes found each other.

“Hi, handsome. Miss me?”

Bucky let out a rough breath, his grip around the gun loosening. “Was wondering when you'd show up, sweetheart.”

He stood up and approached you in merely four strides, smiling so sweetly as though your presence in front of him had been God's own gift to mankind. You fought off a shudder and attempted nonchalance as your palm brushed the dust off his shoulder.

“Sorry, Sarge. You know I like to keep people on their toes.”

The grin on Bucky's face expanded. He bumped his shoulder to yours, the two of you heading for the exit as Bucky started requesting for extraction through his comms.

A split second was all it took for everything to go sideways.

You didn't know what compelled you to turn around for one last glance. Had you heard something? Felt something? Had the hairs on the back of your neck sensed the imminent danger before your brain could even begin processing it?

It was impossible to say, but something dragged your gaze over your shoulder, an invisible hook yanking you back just in time to catch the glint of metal under the scanty light. One of the bodies on the ground, presumed dead, had begun to stir. His arm trembled as he lifted his gun from the blood-slick floor, the barrel rising with all of the inevitability of a verdict carved in stone.

Your breathing caught.

Everything in your body told you to run. To take shelter behind the wooden crate in the corner of the room, call out a warning, anything. But you knew exactly where that gun was aimed, where that bullet would go if you dared to move even an inch.

Straight into Bucky.

The whole world narrowed. What happened next wasn't a choice—it was a decision your body made under direct instructions of your heart, born not from years of training but from the gentle fondness you harbored for the man beside you. It commanded you to hold your ground, freezing your limbs, your chest pounding as though wishing to somehow intercept the bullet before it could write the ending you weren’t ready to read.

Then, the shot rang out.

Everything else had transpired in a blur. You remembered certain bits and pieces through the fog in your mind—the pain on your neck, the retaliation shot Bucky had fired from his gun, the look of pure terror you saw on his face as he held your crumbling body before it could shatter against the concrete ground.

The confession.

“Bucky.” His name fled your lips before you could even think about it.

Helen's gaze softened. “He's outside. He's been here the whole time. Never left your side since the surgery.”

You swallowed, throat thick with the weight of half-formed questions. “H-How long…?”

“Thirty-eight hours,” she replied. “The bullet missed your artery by millimeters. We almost lost you a couple of times. You were extremely lucky this time, Agent.”

Your eyes closed momentarily. When they opened again, your gaze found Helen with an unshakable purpose. “Could you please send him in?”

The doctor gave you a single nod, landing a reassuring pat on your knee before leaving the room silently.

Not long after, the door opened with a quiet hiss.

The sight of Bucky standing in the doorway smashed your heart into a million little pieces.

His hair was unkempt, sticking to different directions as if his fingers had run through them too many times to count. Even from the distance, you could still see how bloodshot his eyes were, how hollow and agonized they were under the harsh lighting of the room. He looked like a man who had outrun hell only to realize that it had made a home right inside his chest.

“Bucky,” you called out, slowly, gently.

His shoulders tensed at the sound of your voice.

Bucky's movement was tedious, as though it was painful for him to move, as though lifting his head required more strength than Atlas needed to carry the world on his shoulders. The moment his eyes met yours, something inside him cracked and splintered.

“You're awake,” he said hoarsely.

“I am,” you replied, offering a soft, shaky smile. “I'm okay.”

Bucky didn't move.

He looked like he didn't even breathe.

It was as if an intangible weight had shackled itself around his ankles, stopping him in place. Bucky didn't try to fight it, to break himself out of the phantom hold he had been cast under. He just kept standing there, motionless, like he was afraid that if he came any closer, the fragile image of you in front of him—alive, breathing, and speaking—would vanish.

Your throat tightened.

“Buck,” you tried again, a tremor in your voice now, too. “Come here.”

His fingers twitched.

“Please.”

It was that single word that finally did it—the plea that fell onto him like a torrent on scorched earth.

He took one step, then another, erasing the distance between him and the bed with a slowness that might convince someone he was walking barefoot on shards of glass. You watched every inch of him draw nearer, his pain thick in the atmosphere of the room, heavier than the oxygen nesting in your lungs.

The hesitation returned when he reached your bedside, keeping him a good six inches away from you. He hovered in the space around the bed, uncertain, both of his hands clenching and unclenching like they wanted to hold you but were afraid you would completely dissipate like vapor under his touch.

You lifted your hand and reached out, tentatively, with the precision of someone trying to pet an easily-spooked cat. Eternity must have passed at least once or twice when your fingers finally brushed the inside of his wrist.

That was all it took.

The singular touch was all it took for Bucky Barnes—the Winter Soldier, the man with the power of a collapsing star, who had faced death and catastrophe greater than anybody else on earth could ever imagine—to entirely crumble under your palms.

A sound escaped him—something torn and guttural and not meant for human ears to hear. He fell to his knees beside the bed, clutching your hand like it was the only echo of mercy in a world that had offered him none. His head bowed against your stomach, shoulders shaking violently with the aggressive sobs he could no longer contain in his chest.

Your own tears spilled out of you in a tide stronger than the Pacific current, staining your cheeks as you brought your other hand to cradle the back of Bucky's head, threading your fingers through the short tendrils.

“I’m okay. I'm okay, Bucky, I'm fine,” you whispered, over and over, each word a balm against the searing agony inside his bloodstream. “I’m right here, darling. I'm okay now.”

“But you weren’t,” he choked, the sound of his anguish slicing your nerves deeper than the sharpest dagger ever could. “You weren’t, a-and God, I thought I lost you, sweetheart. I was holding you, tried to stop the blood—there was so much blood—and you just… you just went still. Was so cold and still and I couldn't—I didn't know what to do.”

“Bucky.” Your voice quivered. “I'm here, baby. You didn’t lose me.”

“I almost did.”

His head rose, and your breath halted in your throat at the sight or red in Bucky’s eyes. He was not someone who cried often—perhaps it was the archaic 40s’ notion of masculinity that was still embedded in his system—and the only time you had seen him cry was back in Wakanda, when you and Ayo stood by him in the vulnerable moment that confirmed the severance of HYDRA's control over his soul.

Somehow, this Bucky—the one kneeling in front of you—looked even more shattered than the one in your memory.

“Your heart stopped, Sugar,” Bucky continued, the weight of his words pressing and twisting your ribs until you were nothing but a mire. “You weren’t breathing. So cold and stiff, and I… Shit—I didn't know if you'd make it. Had to do CPR the whole flight. Everyone told me to stop. They said y-you were gone. But I couldn't, Sugar. I just—I couldn't.”

“Bucky,” you whimpered. “Darling.”

“I thought I was too late,” he rasped, voice fracturing under the weight of a requiem still resonating in his chest. “I kept thinking if I'd been faster—if I’d stood closer—if I had just noticed sooner, then you… you would've…”

You cupped his face, forcing him to stop his self-torment and look up at you. To remind him that whatever horror still clawing at his being was no longer real, because you were fine, you were alive, and you were here with him. His cheeks were wet, flushed with the remnants of grief and an exhaustion that had been postponed for far too long. The pain in his eyes had dimmed the blue in his irises to gray.

“I'm fine now, Bucky,” you murmured, misty eyes and traces of salt on the tip of your tongue. “You did it. You saved me.”

“I shouldn't have had to,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to reject the truth. “You shouldn't have been in that situation in the first place. You should've been safe. I was supposed to protect you.”

“You did, Bucky. You did protect me.”

“Not enough.”

“Baby, look at me.” Your voice is firm, a lighthouse cutting through a war-born fog. Bucky's forehead furrowed as his eyes locked with yours, as if he still struggled to believe that the you in front of him weren't simply a mirage. “You brought me back, Buck. You didn’t lose me. I'm here because of you.”

His breath hitched.

His lips quivered.

You leaned down, pressing your forehead gently to his, ignoring the strain it caused to your wound because this—the man you held inside your palms, this tender moment you shared after everything the universe had put you through—was far more important than any pain you could ever feel.

“You didn't lose me,” you repeated.

There was silence in the next breath, a sacred one commonly heard in the space between lightning and thunder. You could feel his every exhale, shallow and staggered, like a beast coaxed out of fight but still bristling with a proliferate instinct.

After a stuttered heartbeat, his metal arm slithered around your waist, his flesh one wrapping around your hand again, tighter this time.

“Say it again,” he begged, barely audible. “Please.”

“You didn't lose me,” you uttered. “I'm here, I’m alive, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He crushed you against him then—still careful, still gentle—but underneath the heedfulness, his desperation bled through. Gripping you like you were the only thing that mattered in this vast universe, like he wanted to fold you into himself and keep you some place where danger and death could never lurk over you again.

You felt Bucky's lips on your skin, grazing along your shoulder, moving up the curve of your neck, your jaw, and your cheek. Worshipping you with prayers shaped as a thousand reverent kisses, moving like he was searching for the evidence that you were real, like he was memorizing a miracle while time was still ticking.

And when his mouth finally found yours, the press of his lips wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t greedy.

It was trembling.

He kissed you as if you were the divine being who granted him life, respiring your moans and gasps as if they were the instruments needed to mend his ruptured soul. Bucky tasted like every future you were always too scared to envision for yourself—the promise of companionship, affection, and happiness that had once been too surreal for your heart to believe in. But now, in this moment with him, they all suddenly became inevitable.

You kissed him back, slowly, cradling his face between your hands to hold together all of the fractured pieces that forged his being. Time slipped away in the hush where sorrow once lived, getting you lost in everything Bucky, until eventually, your lungs had to force you to part and come up for air.

“I love you,” Bucky confessed, holding onto your wrists to keep you tethered to him. To this moment. And to life itself.

Your thumb brushed the apple of his cheek, catching a silent tear, leaning in to steal another kiss from the corner of his mouth.

“I love you, too,” you whispered.

A sound between a sob and relief escaped him, and Bucky buried his face in the unwounded crook of your neck, breathing you in like he had been suffocating for days and had finally resurfaced for air. His arms stayed enveloped around you as he murmured praises against your skin—thanking the Gods for listening to his prayers, thanking the universe, thanking you. Paying reverence for the mercy that fate had bestowed over a mangled man such as himself.

You stayed like that for a long time. His weight against your side, his heartbeats slowly steadying beneath your touch. The monitors beeped gently beside you, grounding the two of you to reality, an anchor in the otherwise stagnant room. But in that moment, the only sound that mattered—the only one you cared about—was the soft inhale and exhale of your breaths, a proof of life, shared within the modest spaces that felt more freeing than a hummingbird flying over an open field.

Gradually, the room began to fade into silence.

And in the safety of Bucky's embrace, you had never appreciated the quiet more.

Taglist: @steph88x @athenabarnes @sugarmummystuff6 @wintercrows @jay-jaystevebuckyloki @spideysimpossiblegirl @vainillacookie @mazzaroni-cheese @killerwendigo @s-r-reads @nydubs @rafeskai @unpeellievable @thisismyacc11 @rimunagenius @buckygirls @buckyslove1917 @defn0tonyourleft @buhangini @infinitymitten @lemonhead456 @thescooponsof @buckytheloveofmylife95 @mizukiqr @littlegreenjellybean @p3nis-parker @shortlikerdj @onlyheluvsme @theschoolbasketcase @jjulesii @jvanilly @seaskysunrise @minminswag04 @dameronspector @buckybarnesfic @nameless-ken @marie-sworld @silverwolfeyes @idkitsem @waiting-so-long @redtabularasa @buckyinluv @ghostytoasty17 @moreadsfic @chlovocaine @mcira @personal-fanfic-storage @spookyreads @eternalsams @the-sunflower-room

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goorgeousz · 17 days ago

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hotchelle | aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader summary: you have a furry emergency, and it’s up to your knight in shining armor — a vest and a government gun — of a husband to save you. content/tw: this is so unserious, dog being abandoned, aaron being completely whipped for his wife, just fluff! word count: 1.8ka/n: don’t mind me, i’m just (once again) spreading the “yes ma’am” Aaron agenda. reqs are open! hope you like it 💗🪽

masterlist <3

drabbles masterlist <3

more of "yes ma’am” Aaron

Even though he spent most of his life dealing with tragedies and loss, Aaron was never ready for it. No amount of experience seemed to prepare him for the feeling of fear.

So, although he was most used to receiving bad news when his phone rang, his heart immediately gave out when he answered your call.

“Hey, hon…”

“Aaron,” your rasped voice cried, sobs cutting through you and interrupting whatever you wanted to say.

“Honey, where are you?” he urged, immediately pushing his chair back and sprinting out of his office, not even bothering to button up his suit.

You cried louder, sniffing hard and trying to get the words out.

“I– I was hi-hiking.” he tried not to rush you, instead just sprinting into Garcia’s office.

“Yeah? On your usual track?”

He opened her door without knocking, startling the blonde woman and Reid, who sat beside her probably analysing some case he had been consulting.

Sensing the urge on their boss’ face, they didn’t waste a second before turning to him and getting ready to help in any way possible.

“Y-yeah. Signal is really bad,” you managed, and the way you hiccuped trying to steady your breathing made his heart physically ache.

“I’m coming. Do we need an ambulance? Or…”

“No! No, it’s not me… Aaron, please hurry, I’m…” before you could get any word out the phone went mute, and a few seconds later trying to reconnect the call, it ended.

“Garcia, can you trace her phone?” he asked, trying to seem less desperate than he actually felt. It didn’t work.

“Of course, sir.” she answered, already midway into finding his wife’s location. In a matter of seconds, the map on the screen’s computer glowed with a red pin, and a banner with her exact coordinates popped up. “Here, just sent it to your phone.”

He thanked her before turning around, Reid barely catching up with his pace. “I’ll come with you, sir.” to which he just nodded. He didn’t actually agree to it, neither seemed particularly happy about it, but he didn’t say no and the look on his face showed there wasn’t much on his mind except for the urge to find you.

Luckily it wasn’t rush hour, so they didn’t end up getting any speed tickets – the fact that he turned on the sirens at points where the traffic was a little heavier had nothing to do with it, trust –, and as soon as they got near the point Garcia instructed, they spotted her.

Sat on the ground on the side of the road, slightly off the tracking path, his wife’s baby pink clothes stood out on the grass as if she was a waking highlight. Hotch didn’t waste any time on parallel parking, throwing the car on park as soon all four tires stepped off the highway, and stepping out of it in a second, reaching for his gun, with Spencer mimicking his moves.

“Honey, we’re here.” he said loudly, trying to ease her shaking figure before he even got to her. She wiped her head back, and even though her face was red, puffy and drenched in tears, her eyes sparkled with recognition and relief, like she felt that everything was going to be okay: Aaron was there! The feeling almost made him combust.

“Aaron,” your voice whined, and then you started crying again, louder this time, relieved to not be alone anymore. Quickly scanning the area and guaranteeing there weren't any threats nearby, the two – guns still in hand – agents stepped close to her, still sitting on the floor.

As soon as they reach her, standing on each of her sides, they stop for a second. Aaron physically had to restrain himself from sighing loudly because you were about to have a stroke due to how hard you were crying, while Spencer had to bite the inside of his cheeks until blood was drawn out to stop himself from laughing.

Just in front of you, laid on the dirty floor was a puppy, it’s furr so dirty you could barely see it’s color. The dog showed no signs of being awake, and Aaron felt a little sting with the realization. The dog was dead. He just wished you’d told him sooner.

“I don’t know if she’s dead.” you managed between sobs, catching your husband’s glance “I saw a box on the hike with a note saying the family’s dog birthed her, they were moving across the country and couldn’t bring the puppy with them. She’s the only puppy who made it alive. I think she escaped of the box, trying to find someone. That’s how she got here.”

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “Reid, tell Garcia we’re fine.” he demanded, sending his agent a pointed look at his amused expression. Spencer nodded, stepping back for a second to text his friend, taking the opportunity to silently laugh.

Then, he put away the gun, kneeling down beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder and looking at the animal. You took it as a sign, and buried your face into your husband’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His heart nearly gave out at how heartbroken you were, and all annoyance disappeared on his body just like that.

“Oh, Aaron, I’m sorry. I know you were busy. But… I just needed you, and I…”

“Shh, it’s okay. There’s no problem, at all.” he coached you, fully sitting down beside you and taking you fully in his arms. He meant it: emergency or not, there’s nowhere he would rather be than by your side to stroke your hair and kiss your forehead until you stopped crying.

“Can I see her?” Reid asked politely, crouching down beside you and curiously staring at the puppy. He, surprisingly, touched the dog without any gloves on, not waiting for an answer to actually start checking. Only a couple minutes had passed when he stood up “She’s alive, but barely. We should get her to a vet now.”

You nodd, sniffing and quickly coming to a standing position, the urge to help temporarily occupying your mind enough for you to stop crying, taking off your defined jacket and turning into a makeshift blanket, and wrapping around the puppy carefully.

The ride for the vet was quick, with Reid sharing his thoughts – even though his knowledge concerning puppies was rather short – and Hotch, once again, barely missing speed tickets.

“Reid, take the car back.” he sighed, handing the agent his keys. Spencer, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last minutes, stifled a laugh “I’ll stay here with her”.

When Hotch caught up with you, you were already at the reception of the vet ER – yes, they had those –, bawling your eyes out. One of the vets took the dog off your arms, handing your jacket back. You strode beside the team, giving them all the information you had so far.

“I think she spent the night. Her box was still wet, and it rained last night. Is she going to be okay?” you urged, eyes widening at the vet’s expression.

“Miss, you’ll have to wait outside okay? Thank you for your help.” he said, and they closed themselves into a consulting room, leaving you stuck on your feet.

Hotch touched your back, the feeling of his finger on your skin waking you from your trance. You turned abruptly to face him, and a kick on his gut would’ve hurt less – which he knew for a fact – than the sigh of your lower lip trembling, your eyes widened and red, filled with tears “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” he managed, and he hated how powerless he felt. So he just tugged you closer, hugging you closely and letting you cry.

“How can someone do that?” you said, angrily. Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his suit.

“I know, right? But she’s strong. Did you see how she lasted the whole night out there and still made it? She will be just fine.”

That made you step back, your eyes a little more hopeful as you looked at him. He loved that you believed him so much, and even though he had no way of knowing how this would turn out, he knew there was only one thing he could do.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.” he said, and that made a little smile tug at your lips. “Come on, let’s sit while we wait, huh?”

A couple hours had passed, with you pressed close to Hotch’s side, occasionally moving to play with a dog and hear other people’s stories. When you finally stopped crying, he stood and left a kiss on your forehead, leaving to get some food. Because you expected to be home way sooner, you haven’t eaten, and he was sure that if you didn’t get anything on your system, his next stop would be the actual ER, since you’ve probably cried out all 70% of the water on your system.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When he came back, two bags of lunch from the diner across the street, water and orange juice enough for the whole vet crew, he was surprised to see you surrounded with people. The other dog owners sat around you in the waiting room, listening closely to the story about how you found the puppy. You could be telling a fairy tale, the way their eyes shone with interest, gasping and cooing as on command.

But what caught Hotch’s attention the most was the way the guy next to you – who definitely wasn’t there before he left – touched your bare knee with sympathetic – and honestly hungry – eyes. “You’re so brave and kind,...” the bastard said.

“And married.” he stepped closely, eyeing the man down with his stare reserved solely to the unsubs and particularly unpleasant officers he used to deal with.

“Oh, Aaron, you’re back!” you turned to face him, face glowing with that adorable smile of yours, looking at him with so much love that his scowl instantly melted. He barely noticed the guy standing up awkwardly and finding another sit all the way across the waiting room.

You ate together, with your husband making sure you drank enough fluids for a week, his attentive gaze not leaving your figure until there was nothing left on the paper bags but crumbs. As you were negotiating a sweet treat, a woman with a clipboard and a paw-patterned scrub emerged from the back of the ER seccion “Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner?”

Any thoughts about cookies or brownies being indispensable to raise your sugar levels vanished immediately as you rose to your feet in a speed that left Aaron’s spine jealous, and the two of you followed her closely, your husband’s hand rested on your lower back, now covered with the fabric of his suit – since you decided that the jacket you used to wrap the dirty dog in was now your own personal blankie – tracing patterns as you walked to the room.

When you finally got there, the little puppy was finally awake. Still completely dirty and somehow smaller than she looked when you found her, but fully alert “Hey, you pretty little girl. Oh, look, Aaron. Her eyes are just like yours.” you cooed, and this time he couldn’t control the roll of his eyes. He knew what you were doing. Trying to cute-guilt him into taking the damn dog. So what if the color of the puppy’s eyes was the exact shade of brown of his own? If Reid was there – and he made a mental note to call him later to check the information – he would agree that probably over 70% of the people on earth have brown eyes. Following that logic, the dog has the same eyes as 70% of the world’s population. Somehow that thought didn’t sit right with him, though.

“Is the dog okay?” he asked the vet, just wanting to get this over with. The woman nodded, her knowing smile too suspicious for his liking.

“She’s perfectly fine. She was a bit dehydrated, but I guess her previous owners left her with a little bit of food. We just took a few tests, but everything is normal. Her blood test results will take a few days, though.”

“But do you think she will be fine? Like, on the tests?” you asked, stroking the back of the dog’s ears with your fingers.

“Absolutely. But that’s all thanks to you. If you hadn't found her, I don’t think she would’ve made it.”

You turn to Hotch with a little pout and tears in your eyes – of happiness this time, thankfully – and just like that you won another piece of his heart. But he keept it to himself, just raising his eyebrows at you, unbothered.

“We’ll just examine her now. Routine things. When the blood test comes out we’ll see for sure what vaccines she already has, but she’s 10 weeks old, so probably a few.” the vet explains while reaching the puppies belly with a stethoscope to check her heartbeat. “All good. She’s strong as a rock.” the woman keeps explaining each step of the examination, and at every new information you turn to look at Hotch, your eyes glowing with affection. The puppy, as if it senses your little show and wants to back you up, just behaves, her tail wagging everytime you or the vet talk to her with that high pitch voice, her big brown eyes staring at both of you as if you are her whole world. And he so stubbornly pretends he’s not melting as much as you.

“Now, we’ll take her temperature. This is the worst part of the exam, but just because it’s a bit uncomfortable.”

“She’s shaking, do you think she has a fever?” you ask, the worry on your tone not going unnoticed.

“Probably just fear. I don’t think she has a fever, but we’ll only know for sure by taking the temperature. Do any of you want to hold her or do you want me to call someone?” she asks, eyeing the two of you expectantly. Obviously, you dismiss the later option, moving your hands closer to the puppy. As the vet leans forward with the thermometer in hand, the dog does the unthinkable.

Awkwardly and clumsy running away from your and the vet’s reach, she goes into Hotch’s direction, and he has to step forward and grab her to prevent her from falling out of the table “Are you crazy?” he asks, not even realizing he was talking to the dog, staring annoyed at her. When he tries to place her back on the table, she whines, pressing her little paws higher on his arms, and he has to juggle her back safely to keep her from falling again “Jesus Christ, okay. I’ve got you.”

Aaron misses the way you and the vet eye each other in conspiracy, too busy making sure she’s comfortably nested on his arms “Oh, look. She stopped shaking. Hold her tight so I can check her temperature, will you?” the vet says, stepping closer and – as he will later describe – shoving the thermometer up on the puppy’s ass – which was actually very gentle and professional, but scared him anyway. “Oh, look at that. Not a fever. Your baby is perfectly healthy. Oh, wait.” the vet stops on her tracks, glancing back and forth between you and Hotch and asks the oh, so feared question “You are going to keep her?”

In an oscar-worth performance, you wiped your head to face him, pressing your hands, half-covered by the sleeves of his suit, on his bicep – carefully not to disturb the baby resting on his arms –, batting your eyelashes at him and staring with your eyes slightly opened, in those lost puppy eyes you mastered so well.

“Can we keep her? Please!” he sighed, not even daring to avert his eyes down to the dog he held, knowing damn well it would be a lost battle for him.

“Listen, I…” you interrupted, pointing at the small figure on his arms, forcing him to look at it.

“She’s already attached, baby. We can even name her after you!” you offered, your face deep in thought as you stared at the puppy’s eyes, as if trying to read its mind “Hotchelle!”

Aaron scrunched his nose, averting his torso to the side, as if putting some distance between you and the puppy would protect her from the name you’ve chosen.

“We’re not naming her Hotchelle.”

You crossed your arms, arching your brows “What are we naming her, then?” he then looked at the dog, still too dirty for either of you to see her real color.

“Maybe after we get her cleaned we can…”

Realization washed over him.

You stood there, the image of innocence, your eyes mischievous and expectant. If it weren’t the slight twitch at the corner of your lips, one could think you didn’t already know you had him wrapped around your finger.

So, he just sighed, looking briefly at the – his – puppy, and he could swear she had the same smug expression as yours.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After a well deserved shower gifted by the clinic – and many dollars spent at the pet shop wing at the clinic while you waited – the two – three – of you walked out together. You, holding some of the purchase’s bag, still wearing his suit jacket. Aaron, holding a freshly showered Hotchelle, wrapped around her brand new fluffy pink blanket, wearing two matching bows like a doll – while shopping you asked him if he thought Hotchelle was ‘more of a bow or pompom kinda girl’, to which he huffed an annoyed ‘bow, obviously’ – and the scowl he usually had on was much less prominent.

As soon as you stepped out of the clinic, the sun having already set, a flashlight temporarily blinded you. Blinking in surprise, your sight started to clear. It was a picture. And you couldn’t stop your laughter when you saw all the members of the BAU standing in the parking lot, matching amused smiles watching Aaron.

“We came to drop your car off.” Emily explained, her own laughter barely stiffed. Hotch sighed loudly.

“Thanks.” he muttered between gritted teeth “You can all go now.”

“Hm, I don’t think so, Hotch.” Rossi managed “We all want to meet the new addition to the family. We were kept in suspense since Reid told us what happened” Spencer had the decency to seem embarrassed, scratching the back of his head and blushing under Aaron’s disapproval stare.

Having restrained herself for long enough for the sake of the joke, Penelope threw herself in front of her boss, asking for you the whole rescue story. While at it, you catched the way Hotch stiffened his arms whenever Garcia tried to pry the baby to her own arms. Mercesly, you kept it to yourself.

“She’s still very young. 10 weeks.” he stated, glancing at Reid.

“That’s what I thought,” Spencer started, stepping closer with the other members, all cooing at how cute she looked. Specially contrasted with Aaron's broad figure – that earned Morgan another pack of photos, which you eagerly asked, for…. scientific purposes. “I did some research, and it turned out this specific breed is extremely affectionate due to….”

“Wait. Before we start the lecture” JJ pried, looking at Spencer apologetically “What’s her name?”

The tip of Hotch’s ears turned bright red, and the team glanced at each other. Sensing that your husband wasn’t going to answer, you stepped in, a bright smile in response “We named her after Aaron. Since she’s a daddy’s girl. Just like her mommy.” you winked at him, making him cringe. If both of his arms weren’t already busy, you were sure he would’ve been pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Don’t… say this…” he pleaded weakly.

“It can’t be that bad.” Morgan tried, his grin suggesting he thought otherwise.

“Hotchelle.” your husband said under his breath, earning many loud reactions in return. He just turned on his heel, getting the car keys from Emily’s hand and looking back at you “We're leaving.”

You were almost skipping on your way to his car, nestling the dog in your arms and showing her to the team like a trophy, who stood back laughing. Before getting into the driver’s seat, Aaron glanced back at them.

“Reid.” he commanded, his voice strong and stern like a thunder. Even from the distance, you could see Spencer gulping, bracing himself for the scold he was about to get. In a much lighter tone and with a smirk — he always had fun scaring his teammates — he said “I want to hear about your research tomorrow.”

taglist: all hotch @winyourheartemma all cm @s0urw00lf @deeninadream

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spikedfearn · 1 month ago

Text

All That's Left Is Yours

Part I

Walter "Lion" Kaminski x fem!reader

summary: Walter Kaminski doesn't know how to be loved without bracing for impact. A washed-up fighter living out of motel rooms and underground leagues, he's spent years surviving hits—in the ring, from his brother, from the world. But when you, a runaway with a sharp mouth and a sharper gaze enters his orbit, everything starts to tilt. The closer you get, the more Walter fears what his hands—trained to hurt, never to hold—might do.

wc: 8k

a/n: I’ve been working through Jack O’Connell’s filmography and the Remmick Discord recently did a group watch of Jungleland—and wow. I knew I was going to love it, but I didn’t expect Walter to tug at my heartstrings the way he did 😭 Dedicated to Liz @fuckoffbard for both beta reading and crafting the banner, you dropped something queen 👑

Disclaimer: You DO NOT need to watch Jungleland to read this fic but I highly recommend giving it a watch, Jack absolutely crushes it!!

warnings: emotional trauma, abusive family dynamics, sibling codependency, past drug use (mentioned), PTSD, fighting/violence, sub!Walter, praise kink, past physical abuse (mentioned), hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, angst with smut, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, unsafe living conditions, unhealthy coping mechanisms, toxic sibling relationship, trauma bonding as a form of intimacy

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, please enjoy!!

Fic Masterlist/Masterlist

Part I: Roadside Attraction

The soda machine clicked, rattled, then swallowed your crumpled dollar like it was nothing. No fizz, no reward. You stared at the red-lit buttons like they owed you something, like they might start speaking and tell you what the hell to do next. But they stayed quiet. Just like you.

It was cold for a desert night. Not cold enough to shiver, but enough that the concrete seeped into your spine as you curled up beneath the flickering fleabag motel sign, your back pressed to the blocky warmth of the vending machine. Your toes were bare and caked with dry blood and gravel. You’d ditched the shoes miles ago, traded them for a gas station sandwich and a bottle of vodka that had long since burned its way through your gut.

You didn’t look up when the footsteps stopped. Not until the low voice cut through the hum of the highway:

"You planning to stay there all night?"

His voice was worn down and gritty, like it had been soaked in whiskey and rung out. The kind of voice that came from a man who’d been punched more times than he could count and still stood tall about it, vowels rough around the edges courtesy of a northeastern accent.

You didn’t answer.

A shadow blocked the light overhead. Broad shoulders. Lean build. Knuckles taped. Face half-hidden under a hoodie, but even in the neon sputter you could see the bruises painting his cheekbone. Left eye a little puffy. A fighter. And not the shiny kind with sponsors and cameras. This one was all backroom and blood.

"I’m not gonna call anyone," he said, voice low. "But you’ll freeze out here."

You looked up. He looked back. It wasn’t pity in his eyes. You would’ve spat on him if it was. No, it was something worse. Recognition. Like he knew the way it felt to run until your legs gave out. To keep your back to the past until the ache in your spine turned permanent.

He fished into his pocket, pulled out a motel key. Room 8.

"I’m not gonna ask," he added. "You want a shower and a bed, it’s yours. I sleep on the floor anyway."

Still, you didn’t move. Not until he dropped the key on the concrete beside you. He didn’t wait. Just turned and walked away, boots scraping the pavement, the bruised side of his face catching the light before he vanished around the corner.

The key dug into your palm when you pushed open the warped motel door.

Room 8 smelled like stale cigarette smoke and borrowed time. The air conditioner rattled like it was dying. There was one bed, neatly made. The sink dripped.

You didn’t see him inside.

The bathroom light buzzed weakly as you flipped the switch. You caught your reflection in the mirror and winced—blood dried at your temple, mascara smeared down your cheeks like you’d been crying even when you hadn’t. The hoodie you wore (not yours, never yours) hung off your shoulders like it didn’t belong.

The water was lukewarm, the pressure shit. But you stepped in anyway.

You peeled off the hoodie and your ragged shirt. The water hit your skin and stung where you were scraped up, but it felt like something real. Something cleansing. You let your forehead press to the motel tile, inhaled mildew and rust, and exhaled the memory of someone screaming your name from a porchlight you never wanted to return to.

Outside, you heard the soft thud of boots on concrete again. Then a lighter flick. The faint, sharp tang of smoke drifting through the thin walls.

You didn’t need to look to know he was right outside the door, leaning against the rail, smoking something cheap, flexing bruised hands with every drag. Trying not to think about you.

You were trying not to think about him.

You stepped out wrapped in one of the motel’s threadbare towels, the water still dripping down your thighs. The bathroom door creaked open. He didn’t turn to look. But he didn’t leave either.

You stood there a minute too long. Listening to his breath.

Both of you pretending like you weren’t listening for each other’s sounds. Like you hadn’t already started building something unnamed in the silence.

And still—he said nothing. Just one long drag of his cigarette, one slow exhale.

Like he was waiting to see if you'd come out again. Like maybe he didn’t want to sleep on the floor tonight after all.

You cleared your throat. Quiet, but just enough to cut through the buzz.

"I’m not staying long," you said. Your voice sounded raw.

He flicked ash into the night air. Still didn’t look at you. "Didn’t figure you would."

Another beat. You hated the silence more than you thought you would.

"You got a name?"

He turned his head then. Just slightly. His eyes met yours under the orange glow of the walkway light. They were tired. Bloodshot. But something flickered there.

"Lion," he said simply. "What about you?"

You hesitated. Names had power. Names meant someone could find you. But you told him anyway.

You watched his mouth twitch. Not quite a smile. Not yet.

He nodded once. "Alright then, sweetheart. Get some sleep."

And then he walked back inside. Left the door cracked. Just wide enough for you to follow.

You stood at the threshold, towel clutched like armor, bare feet planted on the motel carpet that smelled like mildew and cigarette ash. The door was cracked open just enough to catch the whisper of his presence—Lion’s shape slouched in the dark, the thin light from the bathroom stretching shadows across his back.

He didn’t look when you stepped inside. Didn’t say a word. But you felt the shift in the air. Like the way he dragged on that cigarette changed once he knew you were behind him. The silence filled in with something else—tension, heat, the thrum of two damaged people orbiting the same wreck.

You closed the door behind you with a soft click.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, cigarette smoldering between his fingers. The TV was off. The only light came from the slatted bathroom door behind you and the red eye of his smoke.

“I can take the floor,” you said, voice hushed, unsure why. Maybe because the quiet felt sacred. Maybe because you were still dripping, and every breath between you felt too loud.

His laugh was short and dry. “Already told you—I sleep like shit anywhere. Might as well let the floor take the fall for it.”

You didn’t move. Just stood there in your towel, skin goose-pricked from the AC groaning in the wall unit. Your gaze fell to his hands. Thick-knuckled, calloused, bandaged in places. Hands that didn’t know how to be gentle but maybe wanted to try.

“I’ll dry off. Then I’ll go.” You said it, but you didn’t mean it. Not really.

Lion finally turned his head. Looked at you. Really looked.

His eyes dragged over you slowly, not greedy—just tired and curious, like a man taking in something rare he didn’t know how to name.

“You bled through your bandage,” he murmured.

You glanced down. A dark blot of red soaked through the towel near your knee, the scrape reopened. You hadn’t noticed. Didn’t feel it over the slow pulse building in your core, the way his voice kept getting lower, rougher, the longer you stood there.

He reached for the ice bucket lid on the side table, turned it over, pulled a first-aid kit from beneath it. You hadn’t seen it earlier. He unscrewed the cap of a bottle of rubbing alcohol, then held it out without standing.

You stepped forward. Took the bottle. His fingers brushed yours. Just a flicker. But it lit something.

You knelt down in front of him—slow, deliberate. Not sexy. Not flirty. Just there. Between his knees, towel still clinging to your body, water still trailing from your hair onto your bare shoulders. You pulled the hem back enough to clean the scrape. His eyes never left your hands.

Neither of you said a word.

He flicked the cigarette out into the metal ashtray beside him. His hand dropped to his thigh. Rested there. Twitching just slightly.

“You do this a lot?” you asked after a beat, voice barely above a whisper. “Pick up strays?”

He exhaled slow. “Only the ones with a mean left hook.”

That made your mouth twitch. You shook your head, but you didn’t move away.

“You gonna ask what happened?”

“Nope.”

“You wanna know?”

“Yep.”

You looked up at him then. Close enough now that your knees brushed his boots. He smelled like soap from a gas station bathroom and sweat soaked into cotton. Tobacco. Musk. Blood. He looked down at you with something almost tender beneath all that fight-hardened bone.

“I can’t sleep either,” you said.

“I know.”

Another breath passed between you. It felt like a line in the sand. Like if you moved now, everything would change.

So you didn’t move. You stayed right there, with his knees bracketing you and the towel slipping lower down your back, and the heat of his stare holding you still.

And finally—finally—he said:

“You should get in the bed.”

Not a demand. Not a command. Just something raw and honest.

You hesitated.

And then you stood. Dropped the towel. Turned your back to him as you pulled the scratchy motel sheet up over your body, slipping between covers that still held his heat.

He didn’t follow.

But when the lights finally cut out, and the room went dark enough that you couldn’t see the ceiling for the silence, you felt it—his hand brushing your ankle. Just a graze.

Like he was checking you were real.

Like he needed to.

And something about it made your chest ache. Something about it made you wonder.

How often had he done that—reached out, quietly, carefully—just to see if something he cared about was still there? How many times had things disappeared on him without warning? How many hands had he held just long enough to feel them slip away?

You wondered if that was why he touched like that—soft, fleeting, like anything more would scare it off. Like permanence was a luxury he didn’t believe in.

The air conditioner sputtered its last breath sometime just before dawn.

You woke to stillness. Not the kind that soothed. The kind that pressed against your ears and made you too aware of your own heartbeat. The cheap motel sheets clung to your skin, itchy with dried sweat and the weight of someone else’s silence.

The light bleeding in through the blinds was soft—desert dawn pink and melted gold. Your eyes dragged across the ceiling, then to the empty space beside you. The bed was cold now.

Lion hadn’t slept in it.

Your gaze shifted to the floor.

He was stretched out on the thin motel carpet, one arm flung over his eyes to block the sun. His hoodie had been peeled off sometime in the night, wadded up beneath his head like a makeshift pillow. The rest of him—bare from the waist up—was bathed in the kind of early morning shine that made it hard to look away, fractals of light dancing off the gold pendant hanging down and resting against his sternum.

Lean. But cut with that kind of wiry strength earned from fists and failure. There was nothing polished about him. Nothing effortless. His body was a map of fights he didn’t win, of nights that left marks.

But what you noticed first wasn’t the bruises.

It was the ink.

A tattoo bloomed on his left side, stark black against the pale skin of his ribs. A budded cross—elegant, almost holy, but done in thick lines that stretched down to his hip bone. It followed the curve of his body with a precision that made your throat tighten.

It was the kind of tattoo that looked like it meant something.

The kind of tattoo someone might get when they had something to prove. Or something to grieve.

You sat up slowly, careful not to make the bed creak. But his voice cut through the quiet anyway—low, raspy from sleep.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You looked down. He hadn’t moved his arm. But you could see the faint smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“You didn’t,” you lied.

“Liar.”

Your lips parted. You wanted to ask about the tattoo. You wanted to ask about a lot of things. But the morning air felt too fragile, like words might break it.

He finally pulled his arm away. Blinked up at you with those same tired, blue eyes. The bruising had darkened overnight—sick purple above his cheekbone now.

“You get any sleep?” you asked.

He rolled onto his side, elbow propped beneath his head. “Some.”

You nodded. Your fingers twisted on the edge of the motel sheet. He noticed.

“Don’t look so nervous,” he said, voice still rough. “I’m not gonna touch you.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Not unless you ask.”

That made your breath catch.

“I wasn’t—” you started.

“You were,” he interrupted, not cruelly. Just honest. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to be nervous. I’m not exactly a picture of comfort.”

You let the silence sit for a moment.

“I saw your tattoo,” you said eventually.

That brought a real smile. Just a flicker.

“Yeah?” he asked, tone unreadable.

“It’s…unexpected.”

“People usually expect barbed wire or brass knuckles.”

“I expected nothing.”

That made his eyes narrow slightly. Not suspicious—just focused. Curious.

“Well,” he murmured, “you’re the first person to see it sober in a while. So congrats.”

You didn’t laugh. But you didn’t look away either.

The room was quiet again. Tense, but not sharp. Just stretched thin between two people who knew how to pretend nothing mattered. Who didn’t know what to do with the moments when something actually might.

He sat up slowly, every muscle moving like it remembered pain. His back cracked as he stretched.

“Want coffee?” he asked.

You blinked. “Here?”

He smirked. “There’s a machine in the lobby. Shit tastes like burnt tires, but it’s hot.”

You thought about it.

Thought about saying no.

But you didn’t.

“Yeah,” you said. “Okay.”

He grabbed his hoodie from the floor, dragged it on without looking at you again. But before he stepped outside, he paused. Hand on the doorknob.

“You can stay,” he said, quietly. “If you want.”

Then he left. The door creaked shut behind him.

You were alone again.

But it didn’t feel the same.

The crowd wasn’t loud—it was vicious.

Packed into a basement so humid the walls sweat blood, every shout felt like it came from somewhere deep in the throat. Somewhere animal. They didn’t cheer for skill. They didn’t want grace or footwork or strategy.

They wanted carnage. Blood.

Lion knew that before his fist ever hit the canvas.

His jaw ached from the first right hook, a bone-deep throb that crackled up to his temple. His opponent was a wall of meat and rage, a prison-yard brute with fists like cinder blocks. There was no technique. Just power. And Lion didn’t need his brother shouting from the side to know that power would win this crowd over long before heart ever did.

“Stop dancing and hit him!” Stanley barked from the corner, voice thick with panic disguised as anger. “You want him to walk all over you? Huh? Lion—get up!”

Lion spat blood. His vision shimmered. The world tilted just enough to make everything feel slightly wrong—too fast, too loud, too hot.

He got up anyway.

Because Stanley needed the money.

Because Stanley had smiled that fucking smile earlier that day and said, “This one’s easy, bro. Guy’s all show, no stamina. You just gotta take a few rounds, make it ugly, then put him down. Easy payday.”

Easy payday.

Lion barely registered the fourth hit that cracked his eyebrow open. He just felt the warm trickle down his temple, thick and wet, slipping into his eye. The crowd roared. The brute cracked his knuckles. Stanley screamed something else, but Lion couldn’t hear it.

He was already gone.

Gone into that space in his mind where it was just fists and fire. Where everything else fell away except the weight of his body and the will to keep standing. To not break.

Because he didn’t have the luxury of breaking.

Not when Stanley had already bet half of it.

Not when you were waiting, maybe still asleep in the motel bed, not knowing what the hell he’d gotten roped into.

You heard the door before you saw him.

He didn’t knock.

He just opened it like it was still his room—even though he’d let you keep the bed, even though he’d left hours ago with nothing but a promise of shit coffee and that quiet, bruised voice telling you you could stay if you wanted.

You were still in bed, half-dozing with the curtains cracked to let in the morning sun when he stumbled in.

Stumbled.

That was the only word for it.

His steps weren’t steady. They were uneven, like the world tilted just slightly under his boots and he hadn’t figured out how to stand on it yet.

You sat up fast. “Lion?”

He shut the door behind him and leaned against it like it was the only thing holding him upright.

His face was a mess.

Split brow. Eye swollen nearly shut. Blood crusted from his lip to his chin. His knuckles looked worse—skin torn open, bones shifting wrong under the stretch of bruised flesh. The same hands you’d cleaned less than twelve hours ago.

“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, heart dropping.

He didn’t answer. Just blinked slow, eyes locking onto you like he was making sure you were still there. Still real. Like the only thing that mattered was that you saw him like this—wrecked, standing, and silent.

“Sit down.” You were already sliding out of bed, grabbing the shitty motel towels and the first aid kit he’d used on you.

“I’m fine,” he rasped.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Been worse.”

You knelt in front of him anyway. He didn’t stop you.

You peeled his hoodie back, the fabric stiff with sweat and blood. His body flinched when you touched his ribs, and that’s when you saw it—another set of bruises blooming over his tattoo, new and angry. The budded cross twisted just slightly with every breath.

“Jesus, Lion…”

“I took a fight.”

“No shit you took a fight.”

You pressed a cold washcloth to his brow. He winced, but didn’t pull away.

“I didn’t think you were still fighting,” you said, softer this time.

He didn’t meet your eyes. “I wasn’t.”

You waited. The silence stretched.

“Then why?”

That’s when you heard it—a knock at the door. Two quick raps. Familiar. Confident.

Before you could move, Lion stood. Winced. Opened the door.

Stanley stood there. Sunglasses, too-white smile, a wad of cash folded in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Atta boy,” he said, like Lion had just passed a test.

Then he saw you.

And smirked wider.

“Well shit,” Stanley drawled, eyes dragging over you in nothing but one of Lion’s shirts. “Guess we’re celebrating, huh?”

Lion didn’t say a word.

But his jaw tightened.

Hard.

Stanley didn’t even pretend to stay long.

He made himself at home fast—lit a cigarette without asking, sat on the edge of the motel dresser like it was his throne, and slapped the wad of cash down beside the TV remote with a grin that made your skin crawl.

“Got another lined up for Friday,” he said, like he was talking about weekend drinks. “Same guy running the pit. Big payout this time.”

Lion stood with his hands braced on the bathroom door frame, head bowed slightly like he was willing himself to disappear into the wood. His knuckles were still bleeding. You hadn’t even finished bandaging him.

Stanley didn’t notice. Or he did and didn’t care.

“He’s a bruiser, but nothin’ you can’t handle,” Stanley went on, flicking ash on the floor. “And hey—if you go down in round three, we double. Bookies already think you're soft.”

Lion didn’t say anything. Not even a grunt.

You stepped forward, barely keeping the venom out of your voice. “He can’t even see out of one eye.”

Stanley looked at you like you were an amusing commercial break. “He’ll be fine. Lion always bounces back. Don’t you, bro?”

Still nothing.

Not a word.

Stanley stood up then, snagging the cash again. “I’ll hold this for now. Just so you don’t blow it on painkillers and whores.” A wink in your direction. “No offense.”

You didn’t flinch. But your fists clenched hard enough to pop your knuckles.

When the door shut behind him, it was like the air collapsed. Like all the tension that had been floating in the corners of the room finally snapped loose.

Lion didn’t move. Just stood there, staring at the place Stanley had been.

You crossed the room, slow and quiet, until you were right in front of him.

“Lion,” you said softly.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

“I don’t get it,” you whispered. “Why do you let him do this to you?”

His breath hitched.

And then he laughed.

But it was a dead thing. A broken thing. Like it had rotted in his throat and came out anyway.

“Let him?” he echoed, voice raw. “You think I let him?”

He finally looked at you then.

And something in his face had cracked wide open.

“This is all I have,” he said. “This is it. Motel rooms, blood money, and fights that don’t mean shit. I’ve been fighting since I could walk. And he’s the only one who ever put food in front of me after.”

“That’s not food,” you snapped. “That’s scraps. That’s chains dressed up like favors.”

He didn’t respond. Just ran a hand through his hair, pacing now.

“You think I don’t know that?” he muttered. “You think I don’t wake up every goddamn morning and wish I’d walked away ten years ago? That I hadn’t spent my whole life being dragged around by someone who just wants to be the brains behind my broken body?”

You didn’t know what to say.

So you stepped toward him.

And touched his face.

It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t even gentle. It was desperate. Anchoring. Real.

He leaned into it, just barely.

And for the first time, he looked like he might shatter.

“I’m tired,” he whispered.

You nodded.

“I know.”

The room was quieter after his outburst. Not peaceful—never peaceful—but quiet like the lull after a storm. You’d seen men blow up before, punch walls, throw chairs. Lion didn’t need any of that. His voice had done all the breaking.

Now he sat on the edge of the bed with his fists in his lap, head down, body humming with everything he hadn’t said. The anger. The guilt. The shame that clung to him like the blood drying on his skin.

You came back with the first-aid kit. Didn’t ask permission this time. You just dropped to your knees in front of him like you had the night before.

This time, he didn’t flinch when you touched him.

You worked slowly. Hands steady. The scrape above his eyebrow had crusted, but it split open again as soon as you wiped it. He didn’t hiss. Just stared at your face like the pain kept him grounded.

“Sorry,” you whispered when you dabbed too hard.

He shook his head. “Don’t be.”

You moved to his hands—those knuckles, those battered fingers. They were worse up close. One was likely fractured, swollen so bad the skin looked ready to burst.

“Jesus, Lion…”

He gave a tired half-smile. “I’ve had worse.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

That shut him up.

You wrapped his right hand carefully, fingers brushing the rough skin of his palm. He stared down at the top of your head as you worked, lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. You finished the left hand, taping it just tight enough.

When you looked up, he was already looking at you.

For a second, it was just that.

The light buzzed overhead.

The air conditioner kicked on, rattled, died again.

His thigh brushed yours.

And something shifted.

You don’t know who moved first. Maybe it was you, maybe it was him. Maybe it was always going to happen.

But his mouth was on yours and it was nothing like you expected.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t rough.

It was desperate.

Like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips just in case the world took you away.

His hands—bandaged, trembling—cradled your jaw like you were something fragile. His kiss tasted like blood and salt and something quieter underneath. Something scared.

You kissed him back with both hands tangled in his hoodie, pulled him down to you like you needed him to feel how fast your heart was racing. How real it was.

When he finally pulled away, he didn’t go far. Just pressed his forehead to yours. Breathing heavy. Quiet. Real.

“I don’t go by it anymore,” he said, voice barely audible. “Haven’t in a long time.”

Your fingers curled against his thigh.

“But if you’re gonna stay—” he paused. Swallowed. “You should know.”

You didn’t say anything. Just waited.

His breath tickled your lips when he said it.

“Walter.”

You blinked.

“That’s my name. Walter Kaminski.”

You didn’t smile.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t make it smaller than it was.

Instead, you whispered, “Hi, Walter.”

And for the first time since you met him, he looked like he didn’t want to run.

The warmth of his name still lingered on your tongue by the time night fell.

Walter.

You didn’t say it out loud again. Not yet. Not while he was already pulling back into himself, curling up in the corner of the room with a bag of ice on his side and a far-off look in his eyes like he was already bracing for what came next.

You’d made the bed for him.

He didn’t use it.

He stayed in the chair near the window, legs sprawled out, hoodie zipped halfway up like armor. The bandages on his hands were fresh, but you could already see the bruising underneath turning darker by the hour.

You sat on the edge of the bed, chewing your thumbnail, watching him in the reflection of the black screen of the TV. Neither of you had turned it on.

“Are you gonna take the fight?”

The question floated between you, suspended in the dusty air. It sounded smaller than you’d meant it to.

Walter didn’t answer right away.

You hated that you already expected that.

“Stanley’s not gonna let it go,” he muttered eventually. “If I don’t show, he loses money. If he loses money, he gets mean. And if he gets mean—he finds ways to make me pay anyway.”

You frowned. “He’s not your boss.”

“He is if I keep letting him be.”

You turned then, facing him fully. “Then stop.”

His jaw flexed.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is.”

“No, it’s not,” he snapped, standing suddenly, the chair scraping loud against the laminate floor. “You think I don’t want to be done? You think I don’t want to walk away and disappear and never take another hit again?”

His voice cracked.

You didn’t flinch. You stood too. Right in front of him now.

“Then do it,” you said, voice low. “Stop letting him bleed you dry.”

“I owe him.”

“You don’t.”

He stared at you like he didn’t recognize you. Like you were something that shouldn’t have stepped into his world but did anyway, and now he didn’t know what the hell to do with you.

He turned away. Punched the dresser with his bandaged hand. Didn’t even curse. Just breathed heavy through his nose like he was holding back more than blood.

“I don’t know how to be anything but this,” he said finally. “I don’t know how to be someone you stay with if I’m not fighting.”

You crossed to him. Placed a hand on his back. Felt him flinch and stay all at once.

“You don’t have to know yet,” you whispered. “You just have to try.”

Silence.

Then: “Stanley booked the motel through the weekend.”

You exhaled slowly. “So we’ve got a few days.”

He turned, looked at you again.

Soft. Wrecked. Open.

“Yeah,” he said. “A few days.”

The motel lobby was quiet.

Desert quiet—heat pressed against the glass, flies buzzing near the snack rack, an old box fan rattling against the check-in desk. You stood there, fingers curled around a styrofoam coffee cup, waiting for the guy behind the counter to stop pretending he wasn’t watching you.

“Can I help you?” you asked finally.

The clerk—mid-forties, bored eyes, receding hairline—shrugged. “Nah. Just didn’t expect to see you come outta Room 8 this morning.”

You blinked. “Okay…”

He smirked. “You his girl or something?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

“Didn’t mean anything by it,” he said quickly, hands raised. “Just—he’s usually alone. Or with the other one. The loud guy in sunglasses. You’re new.”

You didn’t answer.

Didn’t owe him one.

Just grabbed a second cup of that awful burnt coffee and walked out.

But the words followed you.

You his girl or something?

Walter was sitting on the hood of a rusted-out car behind the motel, shirtless in the sun, knees pulled up and cigarette dangling from his mouth. The bruises on his ribs had ripened into something nasty. The bandage on his hand was already fraying.

You handed him the coffee. He took it without a word.

“You alright?” you asked.

He nodded.

Then squinted. “Why?”

You shrugged, sitting beside him. “Motel guy asked if I was your girl.”

He paused.

You didn’t look at him, but you could feel the way his whole body stilled. Like you’d reached under his skin and pressed on something he hadn’t let anyone near in a long time.

“What’d you say?” he asked.

“Didn’t.”

He flicked ash off the hood. “Good.”

“Why? That hard to believe someone might care about you?”

Silence.

Then: “It’s not that.”

You turned to look at him.

He finally looked back.

“It’s that people who care about me don’t stay,” he said. “And when they try, they get hurt.”

Your throat tightened.

“I’m still here,” you whispered.

“Yeah.” He stared at you for a long second. “That’s what scares me.”

Stanley showed up like he always did—loud, smug, and uninvited.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed folding the same two clean shirts Walter owned when the knock came. He barely glanced at the door before dragging it open.

“Look at you,” Stanley crowed, stepping into the room like it belonged to him. “Didn’t think you’d be up. You take a nap or a beating?”

Walter didn’t laugh.

You stayed quiet.

Stanley’s eyes slid to you. “Ah. She’s still here.”

You didn’t like the way he said that—like you were a stray dog who hadn’t wandered off yet.

“She got a name?” Stanley asked, looking at Walter now.

“Yeah,” Walter said flatly. “She does.”

Stanley waited, eyebrow raised. No answer.

You could see it coming. The moment when curiosity soured into suspicion. When Stanley tilted his head just slightly and looked at you like you were a piece of something valuable. Something vulnerable.

“You gonna tell me who she is, or should I guess?” he said with a crooked smile.

And before you could open your mouth—before you could laugh it off or lie or do anything to defuse the moment—Walter stepped forward.

Not fast. Not dramatic.

But purposeful.

His hand came to your waist.

Fingers warm, firm, curling just enough to make the gesture unmistakable. Possessive. Protective. Territorial.

Yours.

You felt it like a punch to the gut.

And so did Stanley.

The look in his eyes shifted—something calculating, something darker. Like he’d just found another way to get at Walter if he ever needed it.

But Walter didn’t let go.

He just looked at his brother, jaw set, mouth a tight line.

Stanley grinned. “Well, shit.”

And then he left.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the spell broke.

Walter let go.

You turned slowly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said.

He met your eyes. “Yeah, I did.”

You wanted to ask why.

But you already knew.

Because you were becoming something Stanley could use.

And Walter? He was already starting to care too much to let that happen.

The motel room creaked with the kind of stillness that wasn’t peace.

Just a low hum of things unsaid, hanging between the chipped walls and the uneven floorboards. The TV was off. The coffee was cold. And Walter hadn’t moved in over an hour.

He was sitting in the same chair near the window, elbows on his knees, knuckles pressed against his mouth like he could hold himself in with just that much pressure. His bruises had darkened. The side of his face was turning a sick kind of gold under the pale light.

You watched him from the bed.

He hadn’t spoken since Stanley left.

Not even when you offered him food. Not when you handed him water. Not when you pressed your palm against the small of your back like it hurt to watch him sit so still.

He didn’t even blink when the ice bucket finally gave up its last sigh of melt.

You stood, bare feet ghosting over the worn motel carpet. Crossed the room without saying anything. And this time, when you knelt in front of him, it wasn’t to tend wounds or wipe blood off his skin.

You just wanted him to see you.

To feel you.

“Walter,” you said, quiet but certain.

His eyes flicked up. Hollow. Distant.

Until they met yours.

And everything in him shifted.

You climbed into his lap without asking.

Straddled his thighs, hands curling around the sides of his jaw. You didn’t kiss him—not yet. You just pressed your forehead to his and breathed him in.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered.

He exhaled, shaky and sharp. Like he’d been holding it in since the door closed.

“I’m still figuring this out,” he said.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t.”

A beat passed.

Then you felt it—his hands coming to your hips, tentative at first, like he still wasn’t sure he was allowed to hold something that hadn’t already slipped through his fingers.

Your hands slid up into his hair. His mouth brushed yours.

The kiss came slow.

Not like last time.

Not like need.

Like relief.

Like a man who’d been starving for a touch that didn’t come with strings. Like someone who finally understood what it meant to be wanted without it costing anything.

You broke it first. Just long enough to whisper, “Come to bed.”

He hesitated.

“I don’t sleep well,” he murmured. “I—I move. I twitch. Sometimes I talk.”

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t want to scare you.”

“You won’t.”

That’s when he let go.

Of the guilt.

Of the fear.

Of whatever ghosts he’d been keeping curled in his chest like fists.

He let you take his hand. Let you lead him to the bed. Let you pull back the sheets and lie beside him in the dark.

He didn’t touch you at first.

But when you curled into his side, he pulled you in with one arm and held you tight. Like he was afraid someone might come through the door and take you away.

And when he finally spoke, voice hoarse and half-asleep, it was just three words:

“Just stay, alright?”

You didn’t answer.

You just stayed.

The room was dark except for the amber lamp on the nightstand, humming soft against the silence.

Walter lay on his back, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting across his stomach where the bruises looked like spilled ink under his skin. You were curled beside him, the motel blanket tangled somewhere around your calves. Neither of you had slept. Not really. Not since that night.

Not since you crawled into bed with him and didn’t leave.

You could feel him vibrating beneath the stillness—like his body never fully powered down, even when he was quiet. Like he was always waiting for something to blow.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, voice low in the hush.

He didn’t open his eyes. “Didn’t expect to.”

You turned on your side, propping yourself on your elbow, watching the way his throat moved when he swallowed.

“Tell me something,” you whispered.

He smirked faintly, one eye cracking open. “That broad of a request might get you in trouble.”

“I mean it. Anything. Anything you’ve never told anyone.”

He stared at the ceiling again. The air shifted.

A long, thin silence stretched between you.

Then—

“When I was thirteen,” he said slowly, “I found a dog behind a liquor store. Just a mutt. I named her Ash. She used to sleep under the trailer with me when things got bad. Only thing that made it feel like something might actually care if I didn’t wake up one day.”

You said nothing. Just listened. Let him bleed.

“I kept her for years. Stanley knew. He knew how much she meant to me. Last year, when things got tight, he sold her.”

You blinked. The way he said it—casual, empty—was worse than if he’d cried.

“He didn’t even tell me first. I came back from a fight and she was gone. Asked where she was. He said he traded her for rent and a bag of pills.”

A breath.

You reached over and traced the edge of his ribs—gentle, featherlight. He didn’t stop you.

“I didn’t talk to him for a month,” he said. “Slept outside. Ate canned corn out of a goddamn dumpster. He didn’t say sorry. Not once. Just told me next time not to get attached to things I couldn’t afford to keep.”

Your hand stilled against him.

“You don’t flinch,” he said, quietly.

You met his eyes. “Why would I?”

He looked at you like you were something rare. Something delicate he didn’t know how to hold.

“You gonna ask me why I ran?” you whispered.

He nodded, but didn’t push.

“My stepdad hit my mom. Cops came. Left. I told her to leave him. She didn’t. He hit me next.”

Walter sat up a little, jaw flexing.

“I packed a backpack and didn’t look back.”

“Jesus,” he breathed.

“I lived in my car for three months before I found you.”

He looked at you like he was trying to figure out what that meant. What you meant.

You reached over and slid your fingers under his bandaged hand.

“You’re allowed to be rough with me, Walter,” you said. “I won’t break.”

He looked down at where your fingers laced with his.

And for once—he didn’t pull away.

You didn’t let go of his hand.

Even as the silence settled heavy again, even as Walter leaned back against the motel headboard like he didn’t trust his body to do what he wanted it to. Your fingers stayed threaded with his—warm and sure, firm enough to say you’re safe without ever speaking the words.

He kept looking at you like he didn’t know what the hell to do with that.

“You ever touch someone just to see if they’d flinch?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head. “You?”

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Used to. When I was a kid. Just light. Shoulder, hand, whatever. Like—like if they didn’t flinch, maybe they didn’t think I was bad yet.”

Your stomach twisted.

You reached out, and this time, you brought his hand to your mouth.

Kissed the inside of his wrist. The rough plane of his knuckles. The pad of each finger, slow and deliberate. He watched you the whole time, breathing shallow and tight, like your lips were unraveling him one soft kiss at a time.

When you took his index and middle finger into your mouth, he choked on a sound. One you’d never heard from him before.

It wasn’t a moan.

It was a whimper.

You sucked slow—just the tips—warm and wet and careful, lips gliding down to your knuckles, your tongue dragging just enough to make him twitch. His thighs shifted. His breath hitched. His eyes slammed shut.

“Fuck,” he whispered, like he wasn’t supposed to feel this good.

You pulled off with a pop and kissed the fingertips again, then brought them down between your legs.

Guided him over your panties, soaked through now.

“I want you to touch me,” you said. “But I want it to be your idea.”

He looked at you like he was about to fall apart.

Like he was already halfway there.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up,” he admitted, voice barely there.

“You won’t.”

“You’re not—” he swallowed. “You’re not just a distraction.”

“I know.”

“You’re not just some girl who wants a broken boy story to tell later?”

It was a question disguised as a statement, like he was afraid to know the answer.

You took his wrist again, placed his hand just where you needed it.

And rocked your hips once—slow, deliberate—against the heat of his fingers.

“I’m yours,” you whispered.

That broke something open in him.

He pushed your panties aside, tentative at first—like he didn’t quite believe he had permission. But when he slid one slick finger through your folds and felt how wet you were for him, how ready, the sound that tore from his throat was pure disbelief.

“Christ,” he muttered, eyes locked to your face now. “You feel—God, baby.”

You whimpered, grinding down against his hand, your fingers clutching the edge of the mattress for balance.

He was gentle. So gentle. Too gentle.

You pressed your mouth to his ear. “Deeper.”

He obeyed.

You gasped.

He moaned with you.

Like your pleasure belonged to him.

Like the more you came apart, the more whole he felt.

He was panting by the time you pulled your panties down your legs and tossed them to the floor. His fingers were still wet from you, resting on his thigh like he didn’t know what to do next—like he was trying not to come just from the sight of you crawling into his lap.

You straddled him slow.

Bare thighs bracketing his hips.

His back hit the motel headboard with a dull thud, and he looked up at you like you were something holy. Something terrifying. His bandaged hands hovered in the air like he didn’t trust himself to touch without ruining it.

But you didn’t look away.

Not once.

Your eyes locked to his and stayed there—steady, warm, full of something he didn’t know how to name.

You reached between you, wrapped your hand around him. He was already hard, twitching against your palm, flushed deep red at the tip like he’d been aching for you since the second you kissed him.

Walter gasped when you stroked him. His hips bucked.

“Jesus,” he whispered, jaw clenched tight. “You’re so—fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

You lined him up with your entrance and sank down slow. Inch by inch. Taking your time. Letting him feel every slick, tight second of it.

His eyes never left yours.

He moaned through gritted teeth, fists clenched at his sides like he was holding onto control by a thread.

“Look at me,” you said, even though he already was.

“I am,” he breathed. “Fuck, I am. I can’t stop.”

You rocked your hips once, slow and deep, and watched his mouth drop open. His head tipped back for just a moment—overwhelmed—but you cupped his jaw and brought him back.

“Keep looking.”

His hands rose like instinct—found your waist, your hips, then froze.

“Can I…?” he rasped.

You nodded.

He gripped you then. Soft, trembling, reverent.

You started to ride him slow.

Long, deliberate rolls of your hips, grinding down until his breath came in short, desperate bursts. You tightened around him with every movement, dragging him deeper, drowning him in you.

The sound he made was barely human.

You leaned in, your forehead against his, lips brushing but never fully kissing.

“Good?” you whispered.

His grip tightened.

“So good,” he choked. “Fuck, baby—ride me—ride me just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

You held his gaze the whole time. Watched it flicker and soften. Watched it fill with everything he didn’t know how to say.

Then you started to bounce properly—your thighs working, your body rising and falling in rhythm, slick and full and relentless.

His mouth dropped open again, breath catching.

You whispered right into his ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, Walter. Such a good boy. Taking me so deep.”

He whimpered.

“You feel so good inside me. Perfect. Just like this.”

“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, head falling back. “Say it again—please—”

You gave it to him.

“You’re so good. My sweet boy. Just like that. Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good, baby.”

He was trembling under you. Entire body tense, fingers digging into your hips like he was afraid to come without permission.

“I’m gonna—” he started, voice breaking. “Fuck, I’m gonna—should I pull out?”

You grabbed his face.

Shook your head slow.

“No. I want it. I want you.”

His eyes went wide—wild with it.

“You sure?” he rasped.

You ground down once more and whispered:

“Cum in me, Walter.”

He shattered.

Moaned your name, low and ragged, as he came inside you—deep, hot, shuddering through the kind of release that felt like surrender. His mouth was against your collarbone, panting, praising you through every wave.

“Atta girl…” he groaned, arms wrapping around you like he couldn’t bear to let you go. “Atta girl… took me so good…my girl…my fucking girl.”

You stayed right there, hearts pounding against each other, skin warm and damp.

And when he kissed you—soft, grateful, still breathless—it felt like something permanent.

You didn’t move.

Not at first.

The world had gone still in the soft aftershock, the motel room hazy with heat and breath and the smell of sweat and skin. Your thighs were still wrapped around him, his hands spread wide over your back like he didn’t trust gravity to keep you from slipping away.

He was still inside you. Still pulsing. Still trembling.

Walter exhaled into your shoulder. A sound more like relief than release.

You buried your fingers in the sweat-damp hair at the nape of his neck and kept your face tucked in close. Not to hide. Just to be near. Closer than close. You could feel his heart hammering against yours like he hadn’t come down yet. Like he didn’t want to.

His voice came low, cracked open.

“Never done that before.”

You blinked. “What?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, but his arms didn’t loosen.

“Let someone stay.”

You studied him. His lashes were wet at the tips. His mouth was pink and kiss-bruised. The flush on his cheeks hadn’t faded.

“Does it feel wrong?” you asked softly.

“No.” His voice caught. “Feels like I’m gonna wake up and find you gone.”

You shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded, but you could see how much it cost him to believe you.

His hand came up to your face then—rough, bandaged, trembling at the edges—and he touched you like he wasn’t sure you were real. Thumb ghosting over your cheekbone. Fingertips tracing the line of your jaw.

“Why me?” he asked. Not self-pitying. Just raw.

“Because I see you,” you said.

He closed his eyes.

You kissed him. Gentle this time. Deep and unhurried, like you were sealing something in place.

When you finally eased off of him, he pulled you close again, curling around your body like instinct. Your head tucked into the hollow of his throat, his hand flat over your spine.

You felt safe there. And you knew, in the way his arms didn’t loosen, that he felt it too.

“Stay with me,” he whispered into your hair. “Even if I don’t know how to be good at this. Even if I fuck it up.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“I already am.”

#i love walter because he never stopped being gentle even when the world demanded he be cruel #writing is just me projecting my need to cradle a fictional man like a wounded bird #his trauma is layered like a lasagna and I'm eating every bite #jungleland #jungleland 2019 #lion kaminski #walter kaminski #lion kaminski x reader #lion kaminski x you #jack o'connell

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mephisto-reporting · 7 months ago

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I Love You : Sylus Edition

Premise: The plot was also inspired by one of his memories

Trope: Angst to fluff.

Pairing: Reader x Sylus

Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction.My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition

The days had been slow, drawn-out, and suffocating. Every morning, you'd checked your phone, hoping for a message from Sylus or at least a notification. Nothing. The anxious knot in your stomach tightened with each unanswered call and every unread text. The silence was unbearable. It wasn’t the first time Sylus had gone radio silent, but this time was different. It had stretched on for days—too many days—and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

You had become accustomed to his presence, even if it often frustrated you. His teasing, his cocky smirk, the way he’d effortlessly control every room he entered, even when he wasn’t trying. But more than that, there was something you couldn’t ignore: the soft way he’d treat you when no one else was watching. Those tender moments between him and you, when he’d pull you close, call you his "kitten," and joke around until all the tension in the air vanished. But now? Now, all you could do was wait.

It was moments like these, your anxiety running rampant, that you regretted not having Luke or Kieran’s contact details. You had always pushed them away, telling yourself you could handle things alone. But right now, more than anything, you wanted someone to reassure you that he was okay. It felt like you were walking in a fog, each day more uncertain than the last. At night, you stared at your phone, wondering if it was broken or if he was simply ignoring you. You hated that you couldn’t even call him, hated that he was out there somewhere, unreachable.

That night, after days of waiting, you made a decision. Your heart skipped a beat when the idea hit you: the Onychinus base. It was risky, but you'd do anything to find answers. You couldn't sit idly by anymore. You knew you had to go to the Onychinus base, even if you didn't have the slightest idea of what you’d find. You knocked on the door, then knocked again, but no one opened. A cold dread settled over you as you stood there, staring at the imposing walls, the silence swallowing your voice.

Where was he? What was happening?

I miss you, you thought, a silent confession you refused to say aloud. It hurt more than you expected, and you couldn't understand why.

Two more days pass and it was driving you insane. You needed a distraction, possibly a new mission, outside Linkon. The rumble of your motorbike against the open highway barely matched the relentless thud of your heart. It had been days—agonizing, nerve-wracking days—since you'd last heard from Sylus. Messages had gone unanswered, and for all his taunting, all his smug calls to remind you he was still lurking in the shadows, now there was… nothing. Just silence. You hated it—hated that his absence gnawed at you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You hadn’t realized how much you’d gotten used to him, his cocky grins, his infuriating taunts. His voice was a presence in your life you’d come to crave despite yourself. But now, with each mile passing under your tires, you still felt a flicker of worry that he might not come back.

The sound of another engine roared beside you, and your pulse quickened as you glanced sideways, a dark figure matching your speed. That profile—it was him. It had to be.

You yanked the bike to a stop at the side of the road, helmet barely hitting the seat before you spun to face him. Sylus had pulled up, his helmet already in hand, revealing that smirk of his, like he hadn’t just vanished without a word.

Before he could get a word in, you started.

“Where the hell have you been?” you shouted. You could feel your voice tremble, frustration blending with relief. “No calls, no texts! I was just supposed to sit around wondering if you were—if you were…” You trailed off, refusing to say it out loud. “You’ve been gone for days, and I’ve been losing my mind trying to figure out what happened to you! You can’t just… just disappear like that! Do you have any idea—”

He listened, eyes gleaming with amusement, lips twitching as if he couldn’t resist toying with you, even now. Sylus’s lips curled into a teasing smirk, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he interrupted. “Careful, kitten,” he drawled, stepping closer. “I might start thinking you actually care about me.”

You glared at him, furious but relieved to see him in one piece. “I do care about you, you idiot!” you snapped back, the words slipping out faster than you could stop them. “I can’t just sit around not knowing where the hell you’ve gone, what you’ve been doing, whether you’re dead or alive!”

“Oh, really?” he replied, feigning mock surprise as he leaned forward, his smirk deepening, eyes dark and playful. "Come on, sweetie. You’re really losing sleep over the big bad criminal of the N109 Zone? You had no reason to care for someone like me. Not unless you were just bored. Or maybe you’ve taken a liking to getting under my skin. Which, I won’t lie,” he said, chuckling softly, “I find adorable.”

The heat of your anger mixed with a surge of emotion you couldn’t keep inside anymore. Tears welled up in your eyes, your hands shaking as you wiped them away furiously, but nothing could stop the words from tumbling out, raw and unfiltered.

“The reason,” you yelled, your voice cracking, “is because I love you! That’s why!

The admission hung in the air, loud and unmistakable, and the tears that you’d been holding back prickled at your eyes. You half expected him to brush it off, to laugh at you, maybe even just get back on his bike. The world seemed to stop for a moment. Sylus stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock, his usually smug expression completely wiped off his face. His mouth parted, as though searching for the right words but coming up empty.

You stood there, heart thumping wildly in your chest, hoping to hell he wouldn’t just turn and leave, or worse, laugh at your confession. Instead, he was… completely and utterly still, his eyes locked on yours, stunned into silence. His expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability flickering across his face. He took a step closer, lifting a hand, and before you knew it, his thumb was brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Say that again, sweetie” he murmured, his voice unusually quiet, vulnerable. “I didn’t hear you.”

Your chest tightened, but you repeated yourself, more firmly this time. “I love you, Sylus. I love you.”

“You mean that?” he whispered, a rare moment of sincerity breaking through his usual bravado. “You… love me?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. “Yes. I was terrified you were gone forever, Sylus. You make my life… complicated, but you make it better, too.”

He didn’t move for a second, just stared, processing every word. Then a slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he took your chin in his hand, bringing you closer. “I love you too, sweetie. Believe me, I didn’t think I’d hear it back. But… damn.” He chuckled, shaking his head, and then pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you with a warmth you hadn’t expected.

“You’re insane, you know that, kitten? I didn’t think you’d ever say it.” He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “But I’m glad you did. Because I... I love you too.”

For a brief, shining moment, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. Sylus, the man who had always played with control and power, had let himself be vulnerable, and you could see it in his eyes now. He wasn’t pulling away. He wasn’t running. He was here, and he cared. His lips brushed against your forehead in a rare, tender gesture, the warmth of his touch grounding you, calming the storm of emotions in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you worry like that. But don’t think for a second that I don’t care about you. I do. More than you know.”

You looked at him through your wet lashes, still struggling with the emotions that had bubbled up so suddenly.

Sylus’s smirk returned, though this time it had a different edge to it. “So much for not resonating with me when we first met,” he teased, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes. “I guess I’ve won, huh?”

You nudged him with your elbow, still trying to process everything, your heart hammering in your chest.

He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I love you, sweetie. More than you think I do. You’re mine now.”

A blush crept up your neck, and before you could even respond, Sylus was tugging you closer, pulling you into an embrace that was more tender than anything you’d ever expected from the man who thrived on power and control.

“I’m not letting you go,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Not tonight. Not ever again. Guess that makes me one lucky criminal.” he murmured, squeezing you just a little tighter. He held you like he never wanted to let go, and for the first time in days, everything felt right again.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition

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pathologicalreid · 8 months ago

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falling flat | s.r.

in which you call Spencer for help with a flat tire, and he comes to help with your car troubles - and then some

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to the reaper, car trouble, blood, tetanus vaccine, kindergarten teacher!reader, flirting, protective!spencer, takes place following 5x22 "the internet is forever", hastily edited word count: 1.87k a/n: rahhhh an old prompt from may 2024 that ended up working for a margovember request rahhh.

The absolute last place you wanted to be was on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere Virginia, with a flat tire. You weren’t entirely helpless until your tire jack broke, sending metal flying everywhere and cutting your hand open.

You slumped down next to your car, pulling your phone from your pocket before calling the first people you could think of. Every single one of them ended up going to voicemail. Some of them didn’t even let it get past the first ring before declining your call—traitors.

With your thumb hovering over the call button, you thought of Spencer. He had a PhD in engineering, but you weren’t entirely sure that would come in handy in this instance. It was late, almost midnight, and you weren’t even sure he’d answer.

At this point, what choice did you have?

As the phone rang, part of you hoped he wouldn’t answer. When he asked you about it the next time you saw him, you’d wave it off as a butt dial and he’d be none the wiser.

“Hello,” he said through the phone, leaving your plans quashed.

This was awkward, you had been on four dates with the guy over the span of two months, and now you were calling him in the middle of the night. “This isn’t a booty call,” You blurted, cringing inwardly and banging your head back on the passenger door of your car.

Spencer laughed lightly, “I didn’t think it was, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked, his job had a lot of long hours, and you didn’t want to bother him if he was catching up on sleep. If he was even home, “Wait, where are you?”

There was a rustling on his end of the call, “No, I wasn’t asleep, I’m at work. We just got off of a case.”

You let out a sigh of relief, at least you weren’t being a total nuisance. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. I just… my tire blew out on the highway and my jack broke and no one else is answering their phone,” you told him, verging on rambling.

“You’re kind of cutting out, where are you?” He asked, he sounded concerned, and if there was a moment where you weren’t sure you still had feelings for him, it was fleeting.

Looking to either side of you for a mile marker, you stood up, looking at the ground so you didn’t step on any metal, “I don’t really know. There aren’t any signs, I’m somewhere on 28, I think?”

Spencer cleared his throat, “Do you have your location on your phone?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I have enough service to check it,” you said, all you could see were trees.

You could hear him talking to someone, holding the receiver away from his mouth, “That’s fine, I’ll have someone look, just stay on the phone.”

It would seem that dating someone in the FBI does have its perks, “Oh, cool.” You overheard Spencer explaining your situation to someone, hearing the other person in the room say something about Reid’s girlfriend and you couldn’t help but smile. The two of you were very unofficially official.

“Hey, I’ll be there in half an hour,” An elevator dinged in the background. “Is that alright?”

You hummed, leaning your hip against the front of your car. “I mean, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Another ding of the elevator, “Will you do me a favor?”

In exchange for this? You’d do just about anything within the realm of legality, “Name it.”

“Get in your car and lock the doors,” he responded. “Turn your hazards on because right now you’re a sitting duck. If someone doesn’t see your car, they could hit you.”

As a favor, he was asking you to make sure you’re safe, “Okay, I’m getting in now, should I leave the car running?”

You heard the sound of a car lock disengaging through the phone, “As long as the cooling system on your car is in good shape, it shouldn’t be a problem to leave it running while you wait. Just remember what I told you about the hazards.”

Nodding despite the fact that he can’t see you, you got in the car, turning the key in the ignition before pushing the button for your hazard lights, “Okay, I’m in the car.”

“I can’t drive and be on the phone at the same time, but I’ll be there soon. Don’t unlock the doors for anyone except for me,” he told you, and you thanked him for his help before hanging up and settling yourself in your driver’s seat.

You pulled the hoodie you kept stashed in your car over your head, your school mascot—a panther—proudly displayed in the front, and made sure your car doors were locked. If you said you weren’t a little unnerved, you’d be lying to yourself.

Spencer had a worrisome job; it was something you were aware of before he ever asked you on that first date. It became alarmingly obvious to you when he revealed that he’d been shot a few months prior, which was an appropriate second-date conversation with an FBI agent. It made sense to you that he’d be concerned about you, in your idle car, on the side of the road, but you wondered if there was a case that he was thinking of. Someone with a flat tire who had met an untimely demise.

Shuddering, you turned up the heat in your car, flipping through radio stations until someone knocked on your window. You jumped at the noise, hitting your head against the roof of the car before looking outside to see Spencer. Sighing in relief, you unlocked your car door, and he opened it for you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is your head alright?”

You peered up at him, casually leaning over your car door. “You cut your hair,” you observed. You’d seen him just last week, where his hair still touched his shoulders, and now it was considerably shorter.

Self-consciously, he reached up a hand and thumbed one of the tendrils, “Yeah, it just got too long—and heavy.”

Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair, your head bobbed, “I like it. Did you do it yourself?”

“You can tell?” He asked, following you around the back of your car to your busted tire. Spencer sets his tire jack down before looking back at you, putting his hands on his hips.

Grinning at him, you shrugged, “I teach kindergarten, I’m basically a professional at noticing DIY haircuts.”

On a towel that you had previously set out, the two of you sat along the side of your car, and you tried to ignore the fact that Spencer still had his weapon holstered. It made sense, he’d come straight from work, but you wondered if there was a reason he didn’t leave it in his car. “Where’s your lug wrench?”

“I can change it myself,” you insisted, “I just needed a different car jack.” You gestured to the pieces of yours that were now all over the side of the road.

Alarm flashed on Spencer’s face, “Nothing fell on you, right?”

You shook your head, “No, just a cut from the metal.”

Holding out your hand, you let Spencer take a look at the cut on your palm. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

Blinking rapidly, you frowned at him, “Uh, when I was in college?”

“That might need stitches,” he responded, letting you take your hand back. “I’ll change your tire, I don’t want you using that hand for anything,” he informed you, pushing the hydraulic jack beneath your car.

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you watched him take your old tire off, muttering under his breath about how your old jack was practically an artifact, seeing how it literally fell apart under pressure. “How was your case?” You asked softly, fully aware that you were likely opening a can of worms by asking about work.

Spencer’s movements faltered slightly at your question, “It’s closed. We were in Boise,” he answered tactfully, leaving out any case details and cluing you into the fact that he didn’t want to talk about it. “What are you doing out here?”

You sighed, leaning back on your hands and watching him work, “I had a meeting with the other schools in our conference. It’s annual, and this year they happened to pick the school furthest away from mine.”

“Well, I suppose it worked out well that your tire blew out so close to me, then,” Spencer said, swapping out the busted tire for the donut and looking over at you. There was something nervous in his eyes, and you didn’t know if it was related to work or you.

Humming, you tried to watch the tire rather than just watching him, “Is there something bothering you?”

He was tightening the lug nuts on the spare tire, “Are you driving home after this?”

You furrowed your brows, “Yeah, where else could I be going?”

“It’s almost a two-hour drive to your place from here,” he reminded you, his tone laced with concern. “You won’t get home until almost one in the morning,” the displeasure in his voice was plain, but you don’t have anywhere else to go. “Plus, you really shouldn’t travel that far on a spare tire, they’re not made to travel far distances.”

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you let your shoulders slump forward, “So, what do you suggest I do? Get a hotel?”

Spencer mumbled something inaudibly, trying to finish tightening the bolts on the tire before sighing, “You can stay with me,” he blushes, a swipe of pink across his cheeks.

Your lips parted in surprise, “Uh, I don’t… I’m not…” you faltered. Utterly failing to come up with a good enough reason to tell him no, “I don’t want you to feel inclined. This isn’t what I was looking for when I called you for help.”

He let the car down, staying quiet while the two of you cleaned up, and Spencer swatted your hand away when you tried to pick things up. “So, you can come back to my place tonight. My work-issued first-aid kit has your name all over it,” he told you, eyes flickering down to the cut on your hand.

“Okay,” you breathed, unable to conjure a reason to refuse his hospitality.

He was grinning at you, hair just barely brushing his eyebrows, “So tomorrow, maybe we can get coffee and drop your car off to get a new tire?”

You smiled back at him, “That sounds great, date number five.”

“You know where you’re going, right?”

“Yeah,” you’d been to his place once to pick him up, “Hey, Spence?”

He turned around, fishing his car keys from his pocket. He looked ready to respond to you, but you pressed your lips to his before he had a chance to speak.

You kissed him softly, whispering against his mouth, “Thank you for coming.”

He chuckled lightly, gently resting a hand on your waist, “Thank you for calling.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #margovember #kindergarten teacher!reader

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planetaryupscaled · 10 months ago

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She Was Never Yours

Male OC x Sana

Tags: 16k, smut, cheating, gb, oral, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

The densely packed car was brimming with excitement as Sana and her boyfriend, Minkyu, sped along the final stretch of highway to their destination. The couple had been looking forward to this camping trip for months, and they could barely contain themselves when the week-long break arrived. This was their third year together, and it had become somewhat of an annual tradition to drive out to their favorite secluded spot to celebrate.

“I can’t wait to just be there!” Minkyu exclaimed with enthusiasm.

“Yeah!” Sana agreed, adjusting the straps of her white crop top she had just purchased a few days ago and was eager to show her boyfriend. She knew how attractive she was—petite and toned, with perky, full breasts and a round ass that always had men stealing glances.

Sana rubbed her smooth thighs together in anticipation. She was looking forward to lots of hot sex this week, as the stresses of their busy lives had left little time for the deed lately.

The car's cabin began to vibrate violently as Minkyu drove off the paved road and into the rocky, open desert. After about a half-hour of off-roading, they'd arrive at the familiar rock formation known as “camp”.

“Woo! Finally!” Sana cheered as the long drive came to an end. She giggled as her small body bounced around in the seat, the rough terrain testing the limits of the vehicle's suspension. Her swelling breasts were barely supported by the small fabric, threatening to spill out from under her low-cut top.

The towering series of rocks finally came into view, and Minkyu’s heart sank. “Shit... I think someone’s in our spot,” he muttered, squinting to make out the distant objects at the base of the formation. As they got closer, it became clear that their ostensibly hidden, makeshift campsite was occupied. “Dammit,” Minkyu cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay, babe. We can find another spot nearby,” Sana tried to mask her disappointment to keep the situation positive.

“I mean... Look around. This is the only decent rock for miles, and having zero shade all day is not gonna be a good time...” He answered with frustration.

Sana peered at the barren desert surrounding them. Her boyfriend was right. Without the dependable stone shelter above them, the blaring sun would get old pretty fast.

“Let’s at least see what their plans are. Maybe they’re packing up to leave right now,” Minkyu suggested with newfound optimism.

As their car approached the site, the couple got a better look at the unwanted campers. A large trailer sat parked amongst four cars, and some tents, forming a semi-circle around a smoldering fire. Sana counted about half a dozen men scattered around the camp. The sound of obnoxiously loud music soon became apparent, indicating that the group of strangers was partying hard. The ground was littered with empty beer bottles, and two men were chanting at the top of their lungs as their friend chugged one and threw it into the pile.

A tall, shirtless guy was the first to notice the advancing vehicle, and he stood up from his chair to meet the outsiders at the edge of the site. Minkyu came to a stop, and rolled the passenger window down as the stranger approached Sana’s side of the car. She couldn't help but notice the man's lean, chiseled torso, which appeared to be in excellent shape. “Hey,” the hopeful boyfriend greeted.

“What’s up,” answered the man. He was clearly intoxicated, and leaned an elbow on the window, getting a little too close for comfort. His eyes widened at noticing Sana and fell to her swelling cleavage before he added, “What can I do for you, gorgeous?”

Sana, suddenly feeling quite exposed, blushed and quickly pulled her top up to conceal herself.

“We were hoping to camp here... How long you guys planning on staying?” Minkyu asked shortly, clearly annoyed that the stranger was openly ogling his girl.

“Oh... We just got here this morning. Probably sticking around for at least a few days,” the stranger answered, not taking his eyes off of Sana. He extended his hand to her and smiled, “I’m Yejun by the way. You?”

Sana hesitantly raised her hand to shake his, not wanting to be rude. “I’m Sana...” Yejun’s hand was warm and coarse, dwarfing her own. An awkward moment passed when she met his piercing eyes. “Oh! And this is my boyfriend, Minkyu.” Sana’s heart was racing. Something about the way this guy was staring at her made her feel like prey. An anxious tingle ran down her spine as she tried unsuccessfully to pull her hand away. There was an undeniable hint of excitement though, to feel so intensely desired.

“Good to meet you,” Yejun responded, finally releasing his grip. “Anyway, you guys are welcome to join us, I know the boys wouldn’t mind having a beauty like yourself hanging around the camp,” he chuckled.

“No! I mean... No, we were hoping to have some privacy,” Minkyu stammered.

Yejun laughed. “Hey, I get it,” he said, eyes running down Sana’s body suggestively. “You know... there's plenty of room. You could just camp on the other side, and you'd barely notice we were here.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Minkyu said hurriedly, abruptly rolling the window up and pressing the gas pedal. Yejun stumbled from his position and disappeared in a cloud of dust behind.

“What an asshole...” Minkyu muttered, fuming.

“Yeah...” Sana agreed.

“I can’t believe how openly he was checking you out right in front of me! Did you really need to have your tits halfway out?” Minkyu accused her.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” She argued. “Don’t blame me!”

“I’m just saying guys are gonna get the wrong idea if you don’t stand up for yourself,” he added.

“Ugh... Whatever. Can we just figure out what we’re doing? It’s getting late,” Sana stated angrily, crossing her arms and looking out her window at the darkening landscape.

“I guess we better scope out the other side of the rocks... At least for tonight. We don’t really have any other options,” Minkyu suggested. A quiet tension was in the air between them. He knew he had fucked up. “Sana... I’m really sorry. I was just mad about the whole situation. Can we please pretend that didn’t happen and make the best of our time here?”

“I’ll think about it...” Sana muttered. Her boyfriend’s apology was genuine enough, but she needed a minute to cool down.

The couple had reached the far side of the rock formation and were delighted to find that it was an adequate spot to camp. The rowdy campers on the other side could not be seen at all, and there were plenty of spots that offered shade from the sun.

“I think this is gonna work out after all!” Minkyu announced with renewed cheer. He swung his door open and jogged to the bed of the car, rummaging for the cooler. After producing two ice-cold beers, he trotted over to Sana’s door and offered her one. “Please forgive me?”

Sana rolled her eyes and gave in. “Fine...” She took the drink and cracked it open, enjoying the bubbly beverage that felt so hard-earned. By the time they had both finished their first drink, the couple was back to smiling and hurried to unpack.

The sun was setting as they finished the job, and they enjoyed a second beer while admiring their cozy campsite. Minkyu started a fire while Sana opened the food they had prepared for a simple first-night meal. The pair sat near the flames and munched their dinner, drinking in the vast landscape around them. Sana was about to comment on how soothing the silence was, when they both heard it. The distant booming of the noisy neighbours’ music was even louder than before.

“Seriously?” She cringed at the disturbance.

“I know... But hey... Let’s just try to ignore it. I’m not gonna let them ruin this for us,” Minkyu encouraged.

“You’re right. By the look of it, they had been drinking all day and will probably pass out soon,”

“I hope so... Hey babe?” Minkyu, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, looked at his girlfriend with remorse.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry again for getting jealous earlier. The way that guy was looking at you just really triggered me... and it probably didn’t help that he looked like a damn model...”

“Aw, I forgive you,” Sana comforted, stroking her boyfriend’s back. “I guess I’m more used to that sort of thing. Guys are always behaving like that around me, especially drunk ones. But I’m a big girl; I can handle it. And I’m not going to lose control just cause some dumb hot guy flashes his abs at me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Thanks. Yeah... I mean it’s hard to fault him... You are sexy as fuck...”

“Thanks! Oh, that reminds me,” Sana said, rising to her feet. “I got a little surprise for you under these... Wanna see?” Minkyu nodded, and she began swaying her hips and slowly pulling her top over her head. The young girlfriend’s full, fleshy tits bounced into view, the tiny, triangular fabric of her bikini top barely covering her nipples. Her boyfriend gawked at her admiringly as she turned her back towards him and peeled off her shorts, revealing her perfectly round ass, fully exposed in her g-string.

“Damn... How did I get so lucky?” Minkyu murmured, staring longingly at the striking beauty in front of him, illuminated by the flickering light of the fire.

“You’re about to get even luckier. Put on a condom and get in that tent, Mister,” Sana ordered playfully. Her boyfriend wasted no time climbing into the small shelter and removing his clothes. Seconds after securing the protection on his modestly sized erection, she climbed on top of him.

The couple kissed each other deeply as Sana ground her hips along his shaft. She was wet, and couldn’t wait to feel his cock inside of her. She reached back and took hold of it, positioning his throbbing tip against her slick entrance. With one smooth push, her pussy enveloped the entire length of his cock, causing them both to moan.

Sana rode her boyfriend slowly at first, relishing the feel of his hardness while he gently held her hips and groaned in pleasure. “Oh fuck baby, that feels so… good,” Minkyu cooed.

“Mmm... Yesss...” She moaned back in encouragement, slowly picking up the pace. Her tits swayed as she pressed harder against his pelvis. She was already feeling an orgasm building, and closed her eyes in anticipation. Suddenly, Minkyu moaned loudly and frantically pushed her off of him. Feeling abruptly empty, Sana watched her boyfriend’s covered dick twitch wildly as he came into the condom. She wasn’t on the pill, so they were always very safe.

“Unnngh... Fuck... Sorry babe. Shit...” Minkyu cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay,” she tried to reassure him.

“It’s just... been a while, and you look so fucking hot. I couldn’t help it...”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got plenty of time,” said Sana, masking her disappointment. She was still incredibly horny, but wanted to save her release for the next round with him.

Minkyu yawned and rolled onto his side. “I think I’m gonna pass out. Good night.”

“Oh... Okay. Good night babe.” Sana snuggled up against him, her pussy aching with need. Before long, they had both drifted to sleep.

—

Sana was jolted awake by loud, popping, explosive sounds. After a moment of confusion, she gathered that the neighbouring campers were probably setting off fireworks or something. “Those fucking dicks,” she muttered. Sana looked over at her boyfriend, who was still fast asleep. “Minkyu?” She jostled him a bit, but decided to just let him be. He had always been a deep sleeper, even without alcohol, and nothing short of dumping a bucket of water on him would stir him at this point.

Sana tossed and turned in frustration for what felt like an hour. The day had not gone as planned, and now she couldn’t even rest up for tomorrow. She checked the time to find it was three in the morning. She decided to have a few more drinks, hoping it would be what she needed to get back to sleep, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the disturbing noises. Emboldened by her intoxicated state, Sana decided she was going to give them a piece of her mind.

Slipping back into her shorts and top, and grabbing a flashlight, she started an angry march towards the jerks’ camp. As she rounded the giant rock formation separating the two groups, she realized she didn’t really have a plan for what to do or say to them. She mainly needed to vent and let them know what inconsiderate assholes they were.

Eventually, the rowdy campers came into view. Sana’s eyebrows furrowed as she approached the crowd, stiff-armed. The men were yelling, laughing, and throwing some form of small explosives into their fire pit.

“HEY!” Sana shouted at the top of her lungs. No one heard her. She stepped closer and was about to scream at them again, when one of the guys caught sight of her and alerted his friends. The group finally quieted down, but the sudden silence was eerie. The young woman felt several pairs of eyes on her, accompanied by a lump in her throat, but she couldn’t back down now.

“What the FUCK, you guys!? It’s three in the FUCKING morning, and we’re trying to sleep over there!”

“So what, bitch?” One of the men yelled back. A few of them chuckled.

“How about a little fucking common courtesy!?” She added, red in the face.

“You wanna be courteous? Come suck my dick then!” Another guy taunted.

“Woah, woah. Hold up guys.” Sana recognized Yejun from earlier, who stepped to the front of the crowd to address her. “Sana, right? I’m sorry about all the noise, but give us a break. It’s the middle of nowhere, and we didn’t even know you guys decided to post up back there. Where’s your boyfriend anyway?” He stepped closer to her.

Sana felt deflated after being confronted with Yejun’s logic. “He’s um... back at camp.”

Yejun laughed. “So, he sends his hot girlfriend to fight his battles?”

“No! I couldn’t sleep and decided to come here myself,” she replied defensively.

“Well, you’re as tough as you are beautiful then,” he said through a smile. “We’ll quiet down for you. Our bad.” Sana silently cursed the bare-chested smooth talker for de-escalating the situation so quickly. She wanted to remain angry with them, but he turned out to be so much more reasonable than expected.

“Tell you what. Have a quick shot of this drink, and you'll be sleeping like a rock with your boyfriend in no time,” suggested Yejun, who produced two cups and handed one to her.

Sana didn’t make a habit of drink heavily, but she did indulge on occasion. Much to her own surprise, she impulsively reached for the cup and took a shot.

Yejun chuckled and playfully said, “Alright! Now we’re partying! Guess you’re not such a stuck-up bitch after all...”

“Just had kind of a rough day I guess,” Sana replied, cringing a bit at her corny defense, and unsure of why she cared what he thought of her in the first place.

“Troubles with your boy?” He inquired.

“No... I mean... Not really. Maybe a little...” She responded hesitantly. She could feel the effects of the drink swiftly creeping up on her.

“Let me guess. He got all jealous on account of the obvious sparks between us earlier,” he said confidently.

“Sparks!?” Sana laughed nervously. “What sparks? There weren’t any sparks...”

“Mmm, Hmm... Whatever you say pretty lady,” Yejun teased smugly.

She scoffed. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about any of this. And you should really stop calling me stuff like that.” She stated more sternly.

“Why? So your protective boyfriend doesn’t get his panties in a bunch?” He challenged, grinning.

“No! It’s just... rude.” Sana’s mind was getting cloudier by the second.

“Well, I think you like it.” His bright eyes narrowed and slowly ran down her body, as if he was looking for physical evidence to prove his claim.

“Pshh, whatever... Don’t look at me like that.” She hated how openly he sized her up as if she were a snack, and it made her blush.

“Like what? What’s wrong with admiring a flawless woman like yourself?” Yejun took another small step towards her.

“It’s just... kinda creepy.” Sana felt uncomfortable with his increased proximity, but something about his presence had her temporarily frozen in place.

“Creepy? You expect me to believe being showered in compliments by a guy like me doesn’t excite you a little?”

She hesitated, and then deflected, “And what sort of a guy are you?”

“The kind that women throw themselves at. Especially when they have a secret desire to be dominated,” he said, looking straight through her.

Sana’s spine tingled at his cocky explanation. “Well, you must be very proud of yourself.”

“I could say the same about you, marching over here in the middle of the night in that tight, little outfit. I think you know perfectly well what sort of effect that has on men.”

“Oh please. I didn’t wear this for your enjoyment.”

“Well, I’m enjoying it anyway...” Yejun openly gawked at her curves again, this time moving a hand to his crotch and adjusting his shorts. She couldn’t help but follow his movements with her eyes, spotting the outline of a massive bulge running down his inner thigh. It looked far too big to be a penis, and her curiosity held her gaze for a moment too long.

“I-I should really get back,” Sana said, snapping her eyes away and feeling her warm face grow flusher.

He smirked at her knowingly. “Why? Afraid you might not be able to resist me much longer?” Yejun reached out and lightly stroked her hair.

“You wish...” She murmured, grabbing his wrist and tossing it away from her.

“At least have a stay with me for a while?” Yejun asked.

“Um... No thanks. I gotta... go,” she stammered. She could tell she had mere minutes before she was fully cross faded.

“Well, if you ever feel like having your mind blown, you know where to find me.”

Sana turned and started walking back to her tent when Yejun called out, “Come back anytime, gorgeous! Nice ass by the way!”

“Perv!” She jabbed back as she stepped into the darkness and out of his view.

“What an arrogant asshole...” Sana murmured to herself as she carefully strolled through the still night of the desert alone. She’d become quite intoxicated, and a flood of thoughts were swirling around in her brain. On one hand, she felt proud of herself for successfully confronting the disorderly campers, but it didn’t exactly go as planned. Had she flirted with Yejun? She reassured herself that she was simply trying to smooth things over after basically erupting on them. Sana knew deep down that something about that interaction excited her. There was an unmistakable moistness in her pussy, but she chalked it up to the drugs and alcohol, on top of not being satisfied earlier.

Sana quietly climbed back into her tent and was relieved to find that her boyfriend had not moved an inch. She decided it was probably better not to mention her night-time venture to him, especially given his reaction earlier. “It’s not like I did anything wrong,” she convinced herself. After undressing and getting into her sleeping bag, the tingle of desire in her groin had not subsided. She might have given into it if not for the overwhelming urge to sleep that soon washed over her.

—

Sana woke a few hours later to the warm sun in her face, and her hips being lifted off of the ground. She was beyond groggy, and had a slight headache.

“Morning, babe,” Minkyu said softly as he positioned his girlfriend’s bare ass. “I woke up so horny. Care for some hot morning sex?”

“Mmm... Yes please,” she cooed lazily as he pressed his swollen cock head against her folds to prepare for entry.

“Damn, you’re already soaking wet!” Her boyfriend exclaimed as he thrust into her from behind.

“Ooh! Yess... Fuck me baby,” Sana encouraged.

“Mmpf! You feel so slippery and warm. God yes... Did you have a sexy dream about me or something?”

Sana’s eyes widened as his question connected the dots in her memory. She had in fact had a sexy dream, only it didn’t involve her boyfriend. She shuddered at the memory, and her nipples stiffened as her lust kicked into overdrive. “Ungh... Yes... Yes I did. Fuck me! Fuck me hard, please!”

Minkyu answered her pleas by thrusting more forcefully into her. “Like that?”

“Harder! Deeper! Fuuuuck!” She met his thrusts, slamming her round ass into him in an effort to get more. Her boyfriend was already fully bottoming out in her pussy, but he did his best to comply and fucked her as hard as he could manage.

Minkyu moaned as he watched his sweet girlfriend’s round ass knock into his hips; he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Her tight cunt squeezed his dick so wonderfully, and her wild enthusiasm was driving him crazy. “Mmmpf! I’m gonna cum baby!”

“NO! DON’T STOP!” She demanded, desperate to get off.

He closed his eyes and tightened his muscles in an effort to prevent the inevitable, but couldn’t hold back and pulled out of her gripping tunnel just in time to jerk his cock with his fist, filling the condom with semen. Sana practically cried in frustration as her pleasure came to a halt.

“Oh my god babe, I don’t know what got into you, but that was so fucking hot. I couldn’t help it,” Minkyu explained.

In her sudden guilt from her inner thoughts, Sana tried not to make a big deal about it. “It’s... fine, Minkyu. You were fucking me so good too... We’ll get plenty of other opportunities.”

“Thanks babe. Yeah, we’re gonna be doing it all week long,” he said, leaning in and kissing her. “Anyway, I'm going for a jog. You in?”

Sana hardly gotten any sleep, and desperately needed to hydrate. “Uhhh... I’m pretty hungover. I think I’ll chill here for a while.”

“You sure?” Minkyu asked, pulling on his clothes eagerly.

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun babe. I’ll join you next time.”

“Okay then. Hope you feel better,” he said while exiting the tent.

The mostly naked Sana adjusted her tiny bikini, sliding the minuscule piece of fabric over her creamy pussy and concealing her hard nipples with the equally small triangles on her top. She sat up, gulped down a nearby water bottle, and stepped outside into the bright sun. After applying protective lotion to her body, she stacked a few towels on the ground and lay on her stomach.

As Sana dozed off, the images of her naughty dream played through her mind again.

—

When she woke, Sana was covered in a layer of sweat. Unsure of how much time had passed, she rolled onto her back and sat up to reapply the lotion. She looked curiously at a large wet spot where her groin had been and realized her pussy was absolutely drenched.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” She wondered. The horny young woman scanned her surroundings. Her boyfriend hadn’t come back yet, and there was no one in sight. She figured her body was desperately trying to tell her its needs, so she decided to take the edge off.

Sana slipped her fingers under the soaked fabric and started rubbing her clit. She started slowly and gently, but was soon squirming around on her towel and frantically pleasuring herself. She couldn't control her moaning or the dirty thoughts of being dominated, just like in her dream, that kept invading her mind. Sana allowed herself the fantasy, and imagined the manly stranger tossing her into her tent and having his way with her.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK! YES! FUCK ME! FUCKING USE MY BODY YOU- OHHHHH MYYYY GODDDD!” Sana’s eyes clamped shut and her back arched as her long awaited orgasm finally exploded within her. Her body writhed and her legs twitched uncontrollably as she rode through the all-consuming waves of pleasure that were thrashing her. Her mouth hung wide open, but no sounds came out until her climax finally started subsiding, at which point she let out several long moans of relief.

Sana lay there panting for several minutes, dumbstruck by the immense satisfaction of her release. There was some guilt too, but she minimized it by reminding herself that it was only a fantasy, and that fantasies were perfectly normal things to have.

The sound of a distant vehicle approaching startled her out of her reverie, and she quickly adjusted herself. She flipped the towel over just in time to lay back down when Minkyu pulled up.

The couple had a relatively peaceful rest of the day, playing cards and drinking. The boyfriend had been boozing particularly hard and Sana insisted they do their best to wash themselves with the large tank of water they'd brought. She took the opportunity to clean her 'dirty' bikini before putting it back on.

Just before they called it a night, the familiar annoyances of the neighbouring camp began picking up in volume. “Ugh, not again,” sighed Sana. The thought that she would have to go confront Yejun again briefly occurred to her, causing her pussy to moisten, but she shook the idea out of her mind.

“Those ash holesh must be nocturnal or shomething,” said Minkyu, slurring his words.

“Let’s go to bed, babe.” Sana suggest, standing, and offering a hand to help her boyfriend steady himself as he rose from his chair. She managed to guide him into the tent, at which point he collapsed, muttering something unintelligible.

“Minkyu?” She shook him, but to no avail. He was out.

The frustrated girlfriend once again found herself horny and unsatisfied while her boyfriend snored in a drunken bliss. She was pretty tipsy herself, and decided she would just try to get a good night’s sleep. There was plenty of time for the sex she needed.

However, Sana's plan wasn’t working out though, as the disturbances from the neighboring camp grew worse throughout the night. “Fucking hell,” she cursed under her breath, deciding it would be simpler to tell them to shut up again. This time, however, she promised herself she would not stay there any longer than necessary. The task was simply to silence them so she could get some rest.

Sana once again made her way around the rock formation to the camp on the opposite side. She was more nervous this time, even though her last trip was productive. After getting close enough to be in earshot of the group of partiers, she cleared her throat and yelled, “Seriously, guys? I thought we addressed this shit last night!”

“She’s here!” Announced a stranger who was the first to notice her arrival. Cheers and applause suddenly echoed throughout the camp, leaving Sana frozen in confusion.

“Oh! Fuck me! Yesss,” taunted another guy, causing the group to erupt in laughter.

Sana’s heart sank to the floor. “Are they... quoting me?” She realized in horror what they were referring to. Her face bright crimson, she challenged them, “What the hell are you guys talking about!?”

One guy answered immediately, “You know, how you want to “Use your tiny body,” I think it was.”

“To use her LITTLE body!” Another man corrected him. This got another big laugh from everyone.

The absolute embarrassment was beyond anything she had ever felt. “You fucking pervs were spying on me!?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, bitch. I just happened to be rock climbing earlier and there you were going to town on your cunt out in the open!” A third man, the apparent witness, chimed in.

“So you run back to camp and tell EVERYONE!?” Sana screamed defensively.

“Well, actually-” He was interrupted by the trailer door suddenly swinging open. Yejun walked down the steps and approached Sana, looking beyond smug. The crowd fell silent, not wanting to miss a single moment of the drama.

Sana let him have it, “This is so fucked up, Yejun! I can’t believe how disgusting you guys are. Aren’t I entitled to a little privacy!? I mean... UGH!” She turned to the group and added, “Fuck you! I don’t want to see any of you ever again. And don’t come near my camp!” With that, she spun around and began strolling away from them.

“Sana,” Yejun called out behind her. “Sana!”

“I don’t wanna hear it. I’m done trying to be cordial with you assholes!” She snapped back, not breaking her stride.

“We have video,” Yejun added calmly, just loud enough for her to hear.

Sana froze in her tracks. “You’re lying...” She muttered, her voice trembling.

“Come and see,” he said, gesturing for the rock climber to hand over his phone.

She didn’t know what to do. She had to know if there was actually video evidence of her doing and saying such things. “You better be fucking kidding!” She stormed back over to Yejun, who had the phone extended in his hand, on display.

Sure enough, a video was playing that depicted her, sprawled out in the sun, dropping her hand to her mound. She could hear the man behind the camera whisper, “Oh shit,” and duck behind a nearby boulder. Sana watched, mortified, as the scene from that morning unfolded before her eyes. The video zoomed in and it was unmistakable that it was her, skin glistening, bucking her hips as she pleasured herself. Then came the finale. Her depraved cries could be heard clear as day as she flopped around in ecstasy on her towel.

She was in shock. A sense of dread washed over her from head to toe, and yet a fiery heat had been building in her pussy. “DELETE IT!” Sana demanded suddenly. She tried to swipe the phone from Yejun, but he quickly raised it above his head and out of her reach.

“Nah ah,” he said, chuckling. “Why would we do that? The boys get horny out here, and with no Internet, this is the best we got to work with. This video is gold.” He leaned in closer, “And if you ask me, this is far superior to porn. It has a certain... personal touch, you know what I mean?”

She took the chance and slapped him across the face. He simply laughed and rubbed his cheek. His arrogance was disgusting, but Sana knew she was powerless. She had to convince them somehow. “Just please delete it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Maybe we could come to some sort of arrangement,” he suggested.

“I know where this is going. I’m not gonna let you fuck me,” Sana answered quickly.

“I figured you’d say that, even though we both know you don’t really mean it. That’s fine though. I was thinking something a little more harmless... and group-oriented,” Yejun stated with a devilish grin.

“Group? Not a single one of you pervs is laying a finger on me!”

“That’s fair. How ‘bout this. Since you’d be depriving us of our prized jerk off material, I think the only logical trade would be a live demonstration, so to speak.”

“I’m not doing that either! You know what, enjoy your dirty video. See if I care!” Sana tried to get the upper hand, motioning that she was leaving.

“Okay, then I’ll just share this with Minkyu. I’m sure he’d be very interested to see what his little girlfriend was up to while he was away,” argued Yejun confidently. He knew he had her backed into a corner.

“God dammit!” Sana shouted in frustration. There was absolutely no way she could allow Minkyu to see this video. It would crush him. It would undoubtedly ruin their relationship beyond repair. Her eyes dropped to the ground in defeat. She knew she had no choice. “Fine...”

“So you’ll do it? You have to strip for us and then pleasure yourself to completion.” Yejun asked eagerly.

“Pleasure myself... right here? In front of everyone?” The task seemed beyond daunting to her.

“That’s right. You just give us a quick little performance, we delete the video, and everyone rests easy tonight. So, do we have a deal?”

“Ugh... I guess so... But NO touching, NO cameras, and you delete ALL records of that video right in front of me.”

“Agreed. You have my word. Hear that boys? We get a show tonight!” Yejun announced, drawing cheers from the men. “Alright... Let’s get you set up over here by the fire,” He said to her, gesturing towards an open space. A couple of guys threw some towels down, while the others moved the chairs so that they were all facing the spot that she was to occupy.

“Got any shots?” Sana asked. She figured if her fate was sealed, she might as well make it easier on herself and get a nice buzz going. The men fetched a plastic shot cup and a bottle of tequila. She took three shots back-to-back in an effort to numb her anxiety.

Sana hesitantly stepped towards her “stage”. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She had never done anything like this before, and the whole situation felt surreal. She reached the towels and turned to face her audience. Her heart raced in her chest as she counted six men; six pairs of eyes eagerly waiting to watch her fully expose herself.

“Show us the goods!” Yelled one of the guys.

“Take your time! Get into it!” Added another.

Sana glared at Yejun, who simply nodded. She felt so incredibly vulnerable, but knew it would be best to just get it over with as soon as possible. “Fuck it...” she pushed herself over the mental hurdle, and pulled her top off in one smooth motion. Her bikini clad tits bounced into the open and the crowd went wild. The alcohol was beginning to kick in, and she felt the pleasant warmth from the drinks spreading throughout her body. She reluctantly peeled her shorts off, earning herself another thunderous applause.

She couldn’t help but grin the slightest bit, if only for a second. She was determined not to enjoy this forced exhibition, but something about how thrilled all these guys were to simply see her body was exciting her. She felt powerful, witnessing them lean in with wide eyes as her hands traveled to the thin straps of her bikini top. The feeling was a welcome one, giving her a sense of control in this otherwise helpless position.

“Don’t be shy! You’re so fucking hot!” Someone shouted.

“I’d give my left nut just to take the rest off myself,” another said.

Sana untied the strap around the back of her neck and the fabric covering her nipples flopped over, much to the delight of her audience. She had never felt so desirable and appreciated. She grabbed her sizable tits and squeezed them together, playing with them seductively for a moment while swaying her hips. The men were out of control, and she could barely make out what they were saying to her and one another over the music.

She had finally gained the courage to look at them more directly, and saw that some were sporting bulges that they couldn’t keep their hands off of. Not wanting to lose the momentum she had built, Sana spun around and made a show of her shapely ass. She slowly pulled her thong down and it dropped to the floor. She was completely naked now, all of her most vulnerable parts on display for this group of strangers she knew almost nothing about.

“Slap your ass!” A voice suggested. She did so without a second thought. The whole ordeal was beginning to feel natural. Everyone cheered. “Bend over and do it again!” She complied. Her inhibitions melted further with each passing moment. She wouldn’t admit it to herself yet, but she was starting to enjoy the attention.

“Get on your knees and pinch your nipples!” Sana obeyed, lowering herself and rolling her stiff nipples in her fingers. She could feel her bare pussy getting wet as she followed the lewd instructions. “Touch your pussy!” Her hand fell between her legs, and she glided her fingers over her slippery lips, sending a bolt of pleasure through her.

“Spread your legs so we can see!”

“Are you wet?”

Sana nodded, and rested her ass on the towel, parting her legs and fully revealing her glistening pussy. She started lightly rubbing her clit, her drooling sex begging for more attention. One by one, she witnessed the men freeing their erections and stroking themselves to her performance. She had never seen more than one cock at a time, let alone six. At least four of them were noticeably bigger than her boyfriend’s, and she felt herself captivated, curiously examining the various shapes and sizes.

“Damn, that pussy looks tight!”

“Oh my, it’s perfect!”

Her eyes found Yejun, who had been surprisingly quiet throughout the ordeal. His cock was shockingly thick and lengthy, just as she had imagined. He gently massaged the spot where the shaft met his swollen mushroom tip, causing it to visibly throb. She briefly wondered if it would even fit inside her.

Sana openly moaned in pleasure as she publicly stimulated herself. When Yejun laid out the details, that she would touch herself to completion, she’d thought the degrading act would end with her faking an orgasm and getting out of there as soon as she could. It was now clear though that her body was responding well beyond her expectations.

“Why is this turning me on so much?” Sana thought to herself. She felt like such a slut, getting herself off while six horny strangers rubbed their hard dicks right in front of her. Sana’s mind was overcome with lust, and increasingly dirty thoughts infiltrated her innocence. She imagined the men losing control and taking her right then and there, using her body to satiate their big cocks. The vision made her shiver with wicked delight.

One guy moaned suddenly, grabbing her attention, and she watched as he began shooting ropes of cum onto the ground between them. The sight of it fueled Sana’s desire even further, and she whimpered with need as the nameless camper drained his balls for her.

“Fuuck... You made me cum so hard, you slut,” he said to her.

The naked Sana nodded slowly at him; her face scrunched in apparent pleasure as she worked her clit with fervor. She was getting close, desperate to achieve the massive release that this unbelievably dirty scene was building in her.

Two more of her audience members soon hit their limits, grunting as they pumped their hardness, and spewing their creamy loads all over the desert sand.

“Ungh, Yes!” Sana squealed. Watching the big cocks explode for her was driving her mad. She had no idea that being the center of attention for a group of horny men would turn her on so much, but she couldn’t get enough. She finally hit her peak, and screamed in pleasure as a powerful orgasm shook to her core. The men cheered for her, but their voices were drowned out as her senses focused on nothing but her overwhelming climax.

Sana lay there twitching wildly for a solid minute before finally opening her eyes. Yejun was standing over her, pumping his fat cock in his fist. “Oh fuck...” She cooed, biting her lip, as he seized up and pointed his pulsing meat at her. A long, sticky rope of semen shot out landed across her torso. Another splattered all over her tits. The next reached as far as her chin, pooling in the crevice below her neck.

Sana, still in the aftermath of her orgasm, watched in amazement as Yejun painted her smooth skin with his warm cum. He had pushed the arrangement further than they had agreed upon, but at that moment, she didn’t mind it. In fact, she was glad he did. Being covered in the copious seed of the dominant stud jabbed at something primal in her. She felt like she might cum again right then from the mere sight of him.

Yejun’s last few dribbles landed directly on her mound, trickling down her tender pussy and mixing with her own juices. “That was quite the show, wouldn’t you say, gorgeous?”

Sana simply nodded, still catching her breath.

“God, you look so fucking beautiful all covered with my cum.”

She moaned lightly. If he had wanted to fuck her right there and then, she would have let him. Her soaking pussy felt insatiable.

“Well, my cum slut, I’d say you definitely earned your right to delete the video,” Yejun said.

“Okay...” She murmured, still panting. She hardly even cared about the video anymore. Things felt different now.

“I’d ask if you enjoyed yourself, but I think we all already know the answer,” he teased. The other men agreed.

“This slut is fucking wild. Are you gonna stay the night with us, sweetie?” One asked.

“Shit,” Sana muttered, a bit of reality coming back to her. “How long has it been? I need to go.”

“Up to you. You have my permission,” Yejun said with authority.

“Oh, thaaanks,” she responded with sarcasm. She was learning to enjoy the way he talked down to her. He offered her his hand, and she took it, rising to her feet. She could feel his cum drizzling down her skin.

“You should wear my cum all the way back to your boyfriend,” he suggested, groping her ass with one of his hands.

“I... can’t do that...” Sana picked up the towel and wiped herself off. As much as the thought of going right to sleep with Yejun’s cream all over her turned her on, she could never be that cruel. Yejun smacked her ass with a loud crack, causing her to yelp. “Hey! No touching!”

“Oh please. You love it. Want another?” He asked, grinning.

“Screw y-AH!” She was interrupted by another firm slap. Sana tried her best to maintain a disapproving look, but she knew he wasn’t buying it.

Much to everyone’s disappointment, the sexy young woman got dressed and said her goodbyes, trotting out of the camp. Her mind was racing. The gravity of what had happened hadn’t fully settled in yet, and the dull pangs of guilt were overshadowed by her incredible lust.

She climbed into her tent to a snoring boyfriend, and immediately got to work on her ravenous pussy. Sana pleasured herself relentlessly, soaking the fabric of her sleeping bag and losing track of how many times she came. She could still smell the faint scent of Yejun’s cum on her, and wished she hadn’t wiped it off. Her hand did not leave her cunt until she eventually passed out.

—

The next morning proved to be troublesome right off the bat. Sana was woken up by Minkyu climbing on top of her. He had opened her sleeping bag and was presumably attempting to stir her in the hopes of having sex.

“Good morning,” he said, kissing her. “Ah, last night was a blur. Apparently I came all over you?”

Sana looked down at her skin and found she was covered in several white streaks of dried semen. Her hasty wipe down had not even come close to actually removing all of Yejun’s enormous load. “Oh... Yeah. I was drunk too, but I do remember us fucking and you wanting to cum on me,” she lied.

Minkyu laughed. “That’s so weird, I never do that. It must’ve been some crazy good sex. That seems like a lot of cum!”

“Oh my god, yeah... It was so much.” She could feel her pussy getting drenched as she recalled the previous night.

“I didn’t accidentally cum inside of you too, did I?” He asked worriedly. Sana’s heart skipped a beat, unsure of why he would think that. He motioned to the large stain in her sleeping bag where her crotch had been. It was surprisingly big, and she could see how it could be mistaken for dried semen. It was cum, for sure, but hers.

“Uh... No. It wasn’t inside me, don’t worry. I just wiped it off my body and onto that spot.” It was a lame explanation, but she hoped it made enough sense. Sana crawled over to the pack of water bottles on one side of the tent and Minkyu gasped.

“Holy shit. Did I spank you too?”

“Huh? Oh! Y-yeah. You did...” She tried to get a look at her ass cheek and could see part of the large, deep red prints. “Damn, Yejun marked me good,” she thought.

“What the hell got into me last night? I’m never rough with you. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry babe. I had an amazing time last night,” Sana reassured him. “Anyway, you really wore me out, so I’m gonna drink this and try to get some more sleep.”

“Aw, I was hoping we could do it, but yeah if I did all that to you then I understand.”

“There’s always later.” Sana kissed him.

“Well, I guess I’ll go for a drive,” Minkyu stated.

“Okay, have fun,” she said, between big gulps of water. Sana waited for the sound of her boyfriend’s car departing to let out a big sigh of relief. That had been way too close for comfort, and she was angry with herself for jeopardizing their relationship. Now that she was sober, the guilt was really starting to weigh on her. As much as she was enjoying her new-found naughtiness, she needed to put a stop to it before things got even more out of hand.

As Sana tried to sleep, her mind was constantly bombarded with visions of her dirty exhibition. She gave in and rubbed her pussy to the thought of Yejun and his huge, juicy cock showering her; claiming her. She wished he had not let her leave and fucked her cum-covered body all night. Maybe if she had just gotten to experience him inside of her, she could finally be released from this spell of perpetual lust she was trapped in.

After a series of quality orgasms, Sana’s arm was tired and needed a break. It hadn’t been enough though; she needed more. “What the fuck is going on with me?” She decided to give her swollen clit a break. She slipped on her tight bikini and lay on her stomach just outside of the tent.

She didn’t realize she had dozed off, and woke groggily to strong hands rubbing her lower back. “Oh, hey babe. How was your drive? Mmm... That feels nice.”

“I couldn’t just stand by and let you burn your perfect skin.”

“Yejun!? Wh- Y-You can’t be here!”

“Shhh... Just relax and let me make you feel good,” Yejun said calmly, pressing his strong thumbs into her and expertly rolling them along her spine.

It did feel great, but she couldn’t risk Minkyu showing up and seeing Yejun with his hands all over her. “Yejun. Seriously. This is wayyy too far.” Sana tried to push up from the towel, but he pressed a palm between her shoulders, firmly holding her in place. “What the fuck! Let me go!”

“Just go with it, slut. I know what your body needs,” He insisted. His oily, free hand roamed down her backside and reached her bare ass.

“Don’t call me that! Last night was a one-time deal, and it never should’ve happened in the first place,” Sana argued.

“Psh. You fucking loved every second of it. Don’t lie.” He squeezed her shiny ass cheek and jiggled it around.

“I didn’t! You took advantage of me!” She held firm, and wasn’t going to let him manipulate her. Yejun swiftly brought his open palm down on her, spanking her exposed flesh. “AH! Stop!” He struck her again. She whimpered and tried to wiggle out from under him. He countered her attempt by sitting on her back and pinning her arms to her sides with his legs. Yejun now had full access and groped her slick cheeks with both hands.

“I’ll make you a deal. If your slutty little pussy isn’t soaking wet, I’ll leave you alone,” he said. Sana squirmed and kicked her legs as he forced her thighs apart. She knew she had no chance with those terms. He slid her tiny thong to the side and ran a finger over her exposed pink lips. “Ha. Beyond soaked. Let’s check inside though, just to make sure.” He pushed two of his thick fingers deep into her cunt. She couldn’t help but moan. “Wow, you couldn’t be more drenched, you horny little thing. Guess that means you DO want this,” he stated.

“No! Ungh... Stop!” Sana continued to protest, but his fingers were feeding the growing fire in her. He worked them carefully, thrusting in and out of her, and curving them in different directions to test her reactions. She tried her hardest to block out the pleasure, but her involuntary moans were increasingly frequent. Her pussy was clenching around him, desperate to be more fully stuffed. The helpless girlfriend’s secret fantasy was becoming a reality, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Despite her best efforts, Sana was about to cum hard.

Yejun sensed a change in her breathing, and tensing of her muscles. He quickly withdrew his fingers, and she groaned in obvious disappointment. “Nooooo,” she whimpered. He plunged back in, thrusted a few times, and pulled out, grazing her clit as he passed it. “Yes-Oh my god-fuck-NOOOOO!” She cried out the words in quick succession as he gave her more, and complained with further desperation when he denied her again.

“I’m getting mixed signals here. What do you want?” He asked, smiling smugly. He continued the torturous pattern, keeping her right on the edge.

“Fuck! Just-Ungh-Do it!”

“Do what?”

“Make me cum!”

“Are you sure?” He rubbed her clit frantically, only to stop after a second.

“UGH! YESSSS!”

“With my cock?”

“PLEASE!” It didn’t even register to Sana what she had agreed to, but it was too late. Yejun immediately jumped behind her, pulled his shorts down, lifted her hips, and pushed his hard cock straight into her dripping pussy. She shrieked as his giant cock invaded further and further into her depths, stretching her to her limits. Sana screamed and moaned wildly as each inch of his thick, veiny cock entered her. Before he was even half-way in, she exploded in orgasm. Her entire body quivered uncontrollably, and her pussy pulsed around his meat as the incredible pleasure rocked her.

Yejun grunted blissfully as he bottomed out in the sexy, young girlfriend. He paused for a moment to savor her tight, gripping hole, and the way her full ass rippled as she shook beneath him. He had finally claimed her; speared her precious cunt at the camp she shared with her boyfriend. He began slowly easing in and out of her as Sana’s screams turned into drawn out moans.

“You loving my big dick, slut?” He asked confidently, smacking her on the ass.

“AHGH! Yes! Ohhmm my fucking God! It’s soooo - Ungh! - huge!” Sana couldn’t believe how fully stuffed she felt, nor how amazing the feeling.

“You’ve been secretly hoping I would force myself on you, haven’t you?”

“Fuck! Yessss... Oh... You made me cum so fucking hard...”

“Do you cum that hard for your boyfriend?”

“Ungh... No... Never,” she felt bad for a brief moment at admitting it, but she was far too caught up in the heat of the moment to care.

“If you ask nicely, I’ll give you another one.”

“Mmmpf... Please... Please make me cum again...”

Yejun, pleased with her submission, grabbed a fistful of her hair and began ramping up his pace.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me, Yejun! Yes!” Just like in her fantasies, he was being rough and dominant with her. It was something she didn’t know for sure she would like until this moment. He pulled her hair back tightly and started ramming into her. The repeated cracks of his skin hitting hers echoed against the rocks looming over them.

Sana clutched the towel in her fists as Yejun forcefully pounded her from behind. He was not holding back, slamming his entire length into her while she moaned loudly in encouragement.

“You love being fucked hard by a real man, don’t you, bitch?” He asked with authority.

“Anngh! YES! It’s so fucking gooood! Ohhhh! I’m gonna! Fucking! CUM!” Sana’s pussy clamped down hard on Yejun’s throbbing cock as he slammed into her one last time and flexed his meat, causing it to swell and stretch her even further. He released her hair and caught her chest, firmly squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. She flailed in ecstasy in his arms as her senses were overwhelmed with pure pleasure.

Before her mind-shattering orgasm had run its course, he aggressively flipped her onto her back and crawled on top of her. Yejun rubbed her clit with his mushroom tip, making her squirm around beneath him. He then pressed into her sopping wet folds and filled her spasming pussy again. He pressed his mouth against hers, and drove his tongue into her welcoming mouth. The two kissed deeply and passionately while he slowly eased in and out of her, moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Oh my fucking God, Yejun...” Sana was at a loss for words. She couldn’t believe how incredible she felt. She hadn’t the slightest idea sex could be this good.

“Mmm...” Yejun was relishing the moment, drinking in the sight of the beautiful woman who was finally under his control. She was clearly captivated by him, her eyes telling the story of a girl who just had a sexual awakening. He pressed his hard body into her soft chest and kissed her again. “You know you’re mine now, right?”

“Ugh... Yes... I’m all yours...” She whispered back, kissing his neck. She didn’t overthink it. Sana just gave into the moment, and at that moment, he owned her.

Still gently working his full length in her, he said, “You’re staying with me tonight.”

“Okay...” She agreed automatically.

“You like sneaking around and being my little cheating slut, don’t you?”

“Yeah...”

“Isn’t it so fucking hot to be used behind your boyfriend’s back?” Yejun started thrusting more forcefully again.

“Mmm... Yes... It is...”

“You want me to use your little body a lot more, don’t you?”

“Ugh... Fuck yes. So much,” Sana admitted.

“Good. Now beg me for my cum like the little cheating whore you are.”

“Mmmpf... Yes. Please cover me with all your hot cum again,” she pleaded.

“Hmm... I was thinking of unloading inside of you this time,” he stated, as if her opinion didn’t really matter.

“But, I’m not on the pill,” she explained quickly, just then realizing that she had been enjoying this raw, uncovered cock that whole time.

“Even better,” he said devilishly. “But ok, we’ll save that for next time.” He shifted gears, and started driving into her more harshly. He brutally fucked her into the ground while grunting more dirty things to her.

“Take that dick, you cheating slut!”

“Yes! Fuck me hard!”

“Who fucks you the best?”

“You! Ungh! You do!”

“Better than your boyfriend?”

“Oh my god! So much - Fuck! - Better!”

“Don’t forget it, bitch!”

“Ahh! I won’t! Hngh! I’m gonna cum again!”

“Do it! Cum on my cock slut!”

On command, Sana’s eyes rolled back as her third explosive climax with Yejun rippled through her. He pulled out of her and jerked his slimy cock over her writhing frame. His first several creamy ropes shot out across the entire length of her body, streaking her from her belly to her hair. The next thick strands flung in different directions, splattering her skin as he aimed his twitching dick in an effort to cover as much of her as possible.

Sana watched in awe as the chiseled stud towering over her coated her in his warm seed. She couldn’t believe how much sticky semen was spurting out of him as he claimed her. It was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed.

Yejun breathed heavily as he admired the freshly glazed woman beneath him. He lazily wiped his oozing cock along her swollen pussy. “Damn... I could get used to seeing you like this.”

Snapping them both out of their orgasmic bliss, the distant sound of a vehicle was suddenly apparent. “Oh shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sana cursed frantically. In her panic, she started rubbing the cum into her skin and wiping the excess onto the towel. Yejun grabbed his shorts and scrambled to the nearest boulder, ducking out of sight.

Minkyu’s car came into view and halted in its usual spot just as she adjusted her bikini back into place. Sana’s heart was racing as she inspected her skin, hastily smearing the patches she had missed. “Hey babe!” Her boyfriend said, stepping out of the car and approaching her.

“H-Hi! I um, was just reapplying,” she stammered, trying desperately to sound calm.

“Cool. You feeling better?” He said, drawing closer.

“Sooo much better...” She said truthfully. Minkyu was getting too close, and she feared he would notice something was off. “Wait!” She jumped to her feet. “Let me wash up really quick, I smell terrible,” she said, scurrying to the water tank.

“Uh, okay. I thought you just put more lotion on though,” Minkyu said suspiciously.

“Oh... yeah. Well, I didn’t know when you’d be back, but I’ve had enough sun for now,” Sana stated through her nervously clenched jaw. She doused herself with a generous amount of body wash and splashed herself with water, trying to erase all the evidence of her steamy sex.

“Hey, neighbors!” Sana’s eyes widened in horror as Yejun emerged, smiling and waving at the couple. “Oops. Am I interrupting shower time?”

Minkyu stepped in front of Sana, who had just been scrubbing the small patches of skin under her bikini. “Uh, yeah. What are you doing here?” He asked, furrowing his brow and trying to conceal his nearly naked girlfriend.

“My bad. I just thought I’d stop by and invite you guys to party with us tonight. I know we haven’t been on the best terms, but it’s our last night here, and I thought it could be like a peace offering or something,” Yejun proposed.

His invite caught them both off guard. To Minkyu, it seemed to come out of nowhere, and Sana was shocked by his boldness. Minkyu replied first, “I dunno, You guys have been kind of a headache since we got here, to be honest.”

“I know, and I am sorry about that. That’s why I wanna bury the hatchet. Free food and drinks on us, and then you guys can have our spot when we head out,” Yejun reasoned.

Sana stepped out from behind her boyfriend and looped her arm into his. “That could be fun, babe. Maybe we should give them a chance to make it up to us.” She shot Yejun a quick grin.

Minkyu recoiled the slightest bit, partly in surprise that his girlfriend was considering the invitation, and also in annoyance that she was now fully visible to the unwanted visitor in her skimpy bikini. The fact that she was hanging on his arm though, put him at ease. “Hmm... We’ll think about it.”

“Alright, well. Come on over as early as you’d like! See you guys,” Yejun said warmly as he turned to walk back towards his camp.

Sana’s pussy tingled, wondering what he was up to. “Aw, I think he actually feels bad. We should go. Get drunk for free, and then enjoy the rest of our week how we intended.”

“I guess you’re right. Something about that dude rubs me the wrong way though. Plus I thought you hated them even more than I did,” Minkyu argued, conflicted.

“C’mon, he doesn’t seem that bad. We can always leave if the party’s lame.” Sana insisted.

Minkyu sighed, but finally agreed, not wanting to disappoint his beautiful girlfriend.

—

As the sun dipped below the distant desert hills, the young couple set off towards the rowdy camp, which unsurprisingly could already be heard loud and clear. Yejun was the first to notice them approach, and jogged over, two beers in hand. “You made it!” He nestled between them and draped his arms over their shoulders, filling their empty hands with the ice-cold bottles. “You guys have some catching up to do,” he said, squeezing Sana’s ass and winking at her.

“This is Sana and Minkyu, boys! Let’s show ‘em a good time,” he announced to his friends. The men shouted their greetings towards the couple. Sana noticed them stealing knowing glances at her, which she had fully anticipated. She wore a tight, white tank top and a short, black skirt. The thought of the big group of hot guys lusting after her again was exciting, but she hoped they understood not to make it obvious that they had met her before.

The gathering quickly proved to be a good time for both Minkyu and Sana, who played a few rounds of board games, and enjoyed tasty burgers one of the men had cooked up. Everyone was becoming quite intoxicated, and a little less sneaky when checking out Sana. Minkyu hadn’t seemed to notice, though, as he was constantly being offered drinks and distracted by various conversations. Every so often, Yejun would grope Sana when her boyfriend wasn’t looking, and she’d smile slyly at him.

At one point, she announced she had to use the bathroom, and Yejun was quick to offer the facilities in his trailer. He gave his friend, who was engaging Minkyu in a detailed discussion about their cars, a nod, and quietly slipped into the large enclosure behind Sana.

As soon as the door swung shut, they were all over each other. They made out hungrily, and had their hands in the other’s clothes within seconds. “Couldn’t wait to sneak off for some of this, eh?” He asked, as she wrapped her fingers around his hard cock.

“I need your fucking cock,” Sana cooed.

Yejun laughed, “You’re such a slut. Get on your knees.”

Sana complied immediately, kneeling at his feet, and pulling his waistband down until his erection sprang out in front of her face. She realized she hadn’t seen it this close before, nor had she felt it in her hand. It was so girthy and warm. Admiring his impressive erection was making her salivate.

Once again, Sana found herself wondering how she had changed so much in a matter of days. She had enjoyed the pleasures of sex for years, but never to this extent. She was becoming obsessed with being dominated by a huge cock like Yejun’s. She felt compelled to worship it.

She rested the massive appendage on her face, savoring the musky aroma and weight of it. She snaked out her tongue, and savored her first taste of it, teasing him with little licks up the length of his shaft. Upon reaching the bulbous, velvety head, she flattened her tongue and massaged the bottom ridge.

Yejun let out a small moan, fixated on her mesmerized face. She swirled her tongue around the circumference before pulling the head into her mouth and sucking on it. He pushed forward slowly, and she accepted more of the thick meat until it hit the back of her throat. Sana tried to pop it out of her mouth, but he placed a hand on the back of her head and held her there. After several seconds, he finally pulled her face off of him by her hair, causing her to cough. A large string of saliva hung between her tongue and the tip of his cock.

“Mmm... I love how your big cock feels in my mouth,” she murmured, stroking his sticky shaft with her slender hand. A clear bead of precum formed at the tip, and she lapped it up with the end of her tongue. “Mmmpf...” Sana slurped him down to the back of her throat again, gagging slightly, and began sliding him in and out of her mouth.

“Ughhh... what a hot cum slut...” Yejun moaned under his breath. “God damn you’re a natural. Better milk that cock like your life depends on it. Minkyu’s gonna be wondering where you are soon,” he warned teasingly, resting his hands on the back of his own head and letting her do the work.

Sana sucked him off with her warm, wet mouth with as much effort as she could muster. Her gargled moans synced up with the squelching of her pumping fist. “Don’t forget to look up at me,” Yejun instructed. “A good cocksucker always shows her eyes.”

She obeyed, and stared up at him with an expression that conveyed, “Please give me your cum.”

He started tensing up and sucking in his breath sharply. “Ungh... Here it comes...”

Sana felt him twitch against her tongue, and soon felt strong blasts of creamy fluid hitting her throat. She tried her best to swallow it fast enough, but the enormous load was overflowing her tiny mouth. Some of his semen spilled out past her lips, and Yejun grabbed her head and rammed his spurting cock straight down her throat.

“Breathe through your nose. Good girl. We don’t want to be making a mess just yet.”

She felt Yejun’s warm cum sliding straight down her throat, and choked through the forceful hold he had on her. Sana was finally able to relax her muscles, and allowed him to drain his balls directly down to her stomach. Her pussy was absolutely drenched, responding to the way he continued to roughly manhandle her. She didn’t understand why she craved the abuse, but was becoming addicted to being used like a toy.

When the last of Yejun’s unbelievably copious load had been swallowed, Sana licked him from balls to tip one last time and pleaded, “Please fuck me Yejun. I’m so wet for you.”

“Later. For now, you need to get back to your little boyfriend,” he answered dismissively.

She pouted, but knew he was right. She had been away for long enough. Sana straightened herself up, fixed her hair, and quietly exited the trailer. She was relieved to find Minkyu hadn’t moved from his chair, and approached him from behind, putting her hands on his shoulders. He reeled around to look at her, and she could tell from his eyes that he had continued getting drunker.

“OH HEYYY! Where did you go?” He inquired through a crooked smile.

“I just had to use the bathroom,” she answered simply.

“Well we just took shots. You want one?” Minkyu asked her, motioning to the bottle of tequila on the table nearby. She agreed, quickly pouring and gulping down her shot. It instantly warmed her belly and was the perfect thing to mask the strong taste of Yejun in her mouth.

She noticed the guy her boyfriend had been talking to was staring at her, grinning. “He probably knows I was in there messing around with his friend,” she thought. To her surprise, it didn’t embarrass her in the slightest. She found it hot that all these random guys knew what a slut she had been recently. Sana noted the alcohol setting in, and it made her even more horny.

“What’s your name?” She asked the attractive man sitting across from Minkyu.

“Brad,” he replied, flashing his exceptionally white teeth.

“Brad’s pretty cool, babe. He has almost the exact same try-”

“Can you toss me that beer Brad?” Sana asked sweetly, interrupting her boyfriend. He threw her the nearby can, which she caught, opened, and tipped into her mouth. She then proceeded to spill a generous amount of the cold liquid all over her top, completely soaking the white fabric through. “Oooops!” She feigned the accident and smiled gleefully at Brad’s open mouth stare. Her large chest and black bikini top were clearly visible under the now transparent garment.

“Babe, how drunk are you?” Minkyu asked, laughing heartily at her clumsiness.

“I guess a little more than I thought,” she lied. “I’ll just have to take this off. At least everything underneath is waterproof.” She had raised her voice for that last comment, peering around from her peripheral to see how many heads she turned.

“Sana, wait!” Minkyu shouted to stop her, but it was too late. His girlfriend pulled her top off and stood near the center of the camp almost completely naked from the waist up. “Avaaaa...”

“Babe, relax. It’s just a bikini. I would wear this at the beach,” she tried to reason with him.

“You’ve never worn anything even close to that small! Your tits are like completely out!” Minkyu’s argument backfired, as his loud comments had drawn everyone’s attention to her. A few of the men exclaimed their approval as Minkyu’s face grew red with anger.

“It’s okay love,” she said as she approached her jealous boyfriend. “Guys are going to look at me sometimes, but I’m all yours. I promise.” She kissed him deeply, feeling his tension melt away as she pressed into him and reassured him of their status. “Now take another shot with me.”

“Okay...” Minkyu finally agreed, sheepishly. The couple downed another dose of the brown poison and everyone cheered at realizing Sana would be nearly topless for the rest of the night.

Yejun reappeared at some point during the commotion and grinned slyly at Sana. “I’ve got a fun idea!” He announced. “Minkyu should do a body shot off his hot little girlfriend!”

“Oooh that would be sexy. Let’s do it babe!” Sana liked where the plan was going.

“I dunno... I think I might’ve hit my limit,” slurred Minkyu, stumbling a bit.

“Okay, someone else’s turn then,” Yejun suggested, still smiling at Sana.

“No, wait, wait, wait... I’ll do it,” Minkyu said.

“Alright, let’s do a titty shot.” Yejun boldly squeezed a lime wedge over her chest, getting it all sticky with the sour juice, and sprinkled some salt on top. He then carefully pressed a full shot cup into her cleavage. Sana helped by squeezing her tits together to secure the drink. “Okay, lover boy. Got her all set up for ya.” He said to Minkyu, staying next to Sana and placing a hand on her lower back.

The drunken boyfriend stepped over to her and straightened himself up. “Lick one, take the shot, and lick the other. No hands,” Yejun instructed. Sana giggled as Minkyu gently tongued her left breast and then struggled to get the shot securely in his mouth. He threw his head back clumsily, spilling most of the alcohol on himself. The onlookers laughed.

“No prob, let’s try it again. Just open your mouth and put it right here between these delicious tits,” Yejun suggested. His hand had slowly wandered down her backside and was now under her skirt. As Minkyu got into position at the base of Sana’s chest, Yejun held the tequila bottle over her and slowly tipped it downwards. A stream of alcohol poured down through her fleshy crevice and straight into Minkyu’s waiting mouth, which quickly filled to maximum capacity.

Minkyu reflexively swallowed the mouthful, choking a little, and stumbling backwards. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna be sick,” he winced, clutching his stomach.

“Go throw up behind the trailer. That’s kinda our spot.” Yejun motioned towards the

large vessel at the edge of camp.

“You alright, babe?” Asked Sana, sweetly. She felt guilty for letting her boyfriend drink so excessively, but he was going to do that anyway, she reasoned.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll be - hich - fine... Jusht gotta...” He staggered into the shadows, mumbling.

“Who’s next?” Asked Yejun, firmly squeezing Sana’s plump ass beneath her skirt.

Brad was first to fill the space in front of her. A tight circle of men had formed around the much smaller girlfriend, her breasts glistened as they rose and fell with her breathing. She was beyond excited, and was flooding her tiny thong in her juices; right next to Yejun’s exploring fingers.

Brad placed his hands on Sana’s bare waist, just above the hem of her skirt. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said admiringly.

“Thanks! Not so bad yourself,” she replied, smiling widely.

Yejun abruptly pulled at the strings around her neck and the small patches of fabric slid up to her collar bone. Sana squealed and bounced a little as the concealed parts of her breasts came into view. Her hard nipples pointed straight at Brad, who was looking at her like she was a meal. Yejun lightly drizzled some tequila over her naked tits and Brad pounced. He noisily slurped at her smooth skin, licking and sucking her chest dry.

Sana softly moaned as the burly man took her stiff nipple into his mouth and rolled his tongue around it. Yejun had begun tracing his finger back and forth along her covered, wet slit. She was beyond horny, sandwiched between the two strong males. One attacked her tits ravenously while the other teased her pussy. She arched her back, sticking her chest out and placing her hands on Yejun’s thighs behind her to steady herself.

Yejun called for the next round, and Brad stepped away disappointed. One by one, the other four men took their turns ridding Sana’s tits of alcohol. They grew bolder over time, roughly squeezing and pinching her fleshy orbs as they sucked at them. A couple guys even licked up her neck and ended up forcing their tongues into her mouth. Her moans intensified as they took more liberties with her. Yejun had slid her thong to the side and was firmly rubbing her slippery clit.

As the last stranger was biting her sensitive nipples and groping her chest in his rough hands, Sana murmured, “Oh my God... I’m gonna cum, you guys...”

Just then, Minkyu could be heard dragging his feet through the dirt. “Sana?”

“Minkyu!” She shouted, her volume influenced by a mix of surprise and her rapidly approaching climax. Luckily, her half-naked form was concealed behind the wall of taller men. “You feel okay, babe?”

“Ugh, I dunno...” He collapsed into a nearby chair. “What are you doing?”

“We’re just tnghh - talking. Be right THERRRE...” Sana lost control of her voice as she orgasmed. Yejun clamped his free hand over her mouth as he massaged her throbbing clit. If not for the men holding onto her, she would have fallen over. The pleasure bolted through her and made her legs quiver. The audience was overwhelmed with lust from the display, and several hands were extended to cop a feel of her curves. Her hips bucked against Yejun’s firm touch as she silently came. She was on cloud nine, countless hands exploring her body while she ground her needy pussy through the pleasure. Someone eventually undid her skirt, which fell to the floor. She rode out the final waves of her orgasm in nothing but her g string thong.

When Sana had control of her body again, she peered through the large frames in front of her and saw that Minkyu was slumped over in the chair, seemingly passed out. She made a move to squeeze through the men and check on him, but they didn’t budge, and Yejun didn’t let go of her hips. “He’ll be fine, gorgeous. Just let him sleep it off while we take care of you.”

“But... I should at least-”

“Nope.” Yejun interrupted Sana by lifting her and draping her over his broad shoulder. “Save your breath, slut. You’re gonna need it.” He carried her towards the trailer, the rest of the group following closely behind. The parade of horny men passed the unconscious boyfriend, and piled into the shelter.

A few of the guys hurriedly rearranged the furniture, collapsing tables, and extending the sofa. Soon there was a large makeshift bed in the middle of the enclosure, surrounded by padded cushions. Yejun threw Sana down in the center of it, and the six red-blooded males closed in on their prey.

The young girlfriend felt completely helpless as strong hands grabbed at her from every angle. Yejun forcefully ripped her stringy thong from her and dove mouth-first into her juicy, swollen cunt. Sana squealed in delight as he tongued her pussy with fervor. She gazed up and witnessed a variety of stiff cocks springing free all around her. She had seen each of them the previous night, but they were distant and non-threatening. This time, however, she was closely surrounded by them, and they all pointed at her aggressively. Sana knew that every single one of their hard dicks was going to have a turn with her, whether she consented or not. It was definitely more than she bargained for, but the feeling of being utterly powerless to do anything to stop them drove her mad with lust.

“Oh fuck... Unghh... You guys are all so big...” The overwhelmed Sana cooed.

“You ever taken multiple cocks before, bitch?” One deep-voiced man asked, shoving his way to her face and stroking her soft cheek.

“N-no... hohhh... it’s so fucking hot...” She admitted shakily as Yejun assaulted her sensitive clit with his tongue. Sana could hardly believe what was happening. She’d been a sweet, faithful girlfriend for years, and within a matter of days had transformed into a cock-loving slut. A cheating whore who was about to let a group of strangers use her body for their pleasure. The depraved thought triggered an orgasm, and she squirmed around on the bed, moaning in ecstasy and squeezing Yejun’s head between her thighs.

The deep voice boomed at her, “Suck my dick, you slut.” He tapped his meaty erection against her lips, and she parted them, allowing him to drive it into her warm mouth. As Sana bathed the thick cock with her tongue, two other throbbing hardons were pressed against her cheeks. The horny men jabbed at her face, trying to get a turn in her wet mouth. She wrapped her fingers around each of them, and started pumping her fists as she focused on pleasuring the velvety skin poking the back of her throat.

Yejun rose to his knees on the bed and started rubbing his purple head along her dripping entrance. “Mmmmpff! Ohmm yes... Give me that big cock Yejun... Glrrmp...” Sana begged, pulling her mouth off of one dick and swallowing another. He grunted as he slipped into her folds and pushed forward as her clenching pussy swallowed him whole.

Sana moaned intensely through the rod in her mouth as Yejun began rhythmically fucking her. She could barely focus on attending to the three slick cocks looming over her as Yejun stretched her tight cunt. Her tits bounced in circles on her chest as he pounded into her again and again.

One man grabbed her jaw and turned her towards him, promptly filling her abused mouth again. He fucked her face harshly, pulling globs of saliva from her as he jerked in and out of her. The men waiting their turn anxiously groped the parts of her within their reach. One guy was rubbing his dick against her bare foot.

Sana closed her eyes and tried to relax, completely submitting and allowing the brutes to do whatever they wanted to her. She felt another strong orgasm building as the fat cocks pumped her mercilessly from both ends. The cheating girlfriend was completely smothered in hot men, their combined musky smells and animalistic grunts overwhelming her senses.

Without warning, the cock sliding in and out of her mouth jerked, and started slathering her taste buds with warm cum. She darted her tongue around, savoring the salty flavor and sensation of the pulsing meat. She gulped the man’s semen down noisily and her face was immediately stuffed with another needy dick.

“Fuuuuuck,” groaned the guy whose cum was still sliding down Sana’s throat. “That tight little mouth is perfect. I couldn’t hold back. Thanks for sharing, Yejun. How’s that little snatch feel?”

“You said it, Dave - perfection. I’m about to bust in her. Start flooding that little unprotected womb,” Yejun answered through heavy breaths. He was slamming into Sana with all his might now, lightly rocking the trailer back and forth.

“Unprotected? Dayum, that’s fucking hot. You ever been creampied, slut?” Dave asked her.

“No!” Sana barely managed to answer between moans. She had never had someone cum inside of her, but the thought of it seemed irresistible now.

“Hohoo... You our breeding bitch now... We’re gonna fill that little pussy up to the brim.”

“Ungh! Fuck yes! Cum wherever you want!” She shouted in encouragement right as Yejun tightly gripped her waist, holding her in place, and pressed himself fully against her, jabbing her cervix as his cock exploded deep within her. Sana could feel his warm semen splashing against her inner walls, and her cunt spasmed wildly. The cock in her mouth popped out as she thrashed around wildly, her pussy tightly milking the seed from Yejun’s dick.

“OHHH MYYYY FUUUUCKKKKK! I CAN FEEL ALL YOUR HOT CUM FILLING ME UP! UNNNGHH YESSSSS!” Sana screamed in pleasure as he released his massive load into her.

“Jesus, this whore is too damn sexy,” muttered one of the guys she had been sucking off. He jerked his dick over her and started shooting ropes onto her face and tits.

“UGH! GOD I FUCKING LOVE CUM!” Sana was beside herself, becoming the crazed slut they were all treating her like. If Minkyu had not been completely unconscious outside, he would have easily heard her depraved confession.

By the time the most recent finisher had coated her in his semen, Yejun was still soaking his softening cock in her completely filled pussy. He finally pulled out of her, and watched with great interest as his cum began dribbling out of her freshly fucked hole.

“I’ve waited long enough. Get on your hands and knees, bitch,” ordered Brad, who impatiently grabbed her thighs and roughly twisted her around. He positioned himself behind her and plunged right into her dripping cunt. Sana screamed in delight as he fucked her relentlessly, his balls loudly slapping against her clit.

Hours passed while the assault on Sana continued. Between the six, horny opportunists, there were no breaks for her, and at any given time she had a hard cock slamming into her pussy, mouth, or both. She was treated like a common whore, tossed around the room, and bent and folded every which way as they pummeled her. Her mind had gone numb, and she’d been reduced to a fuck doll to be used however they saw fit.

The heavy scent of sweat and cum was unmistakable in the cramped trailer, and Sana was covered in both. She lost count of how many creamy loads were shot into and on her, as well as how many times she had orgasmed.

After most of the men had finally passed out or hit their limits, Sana found herself on top of Yejun, lazily grinding his fat cock while they kissed each other.

“I can’t believe you’re still so hard...” she whispered to him.

“I’m honestly shocked you’re still going, too. I think I finally met my match,” he replied.

“Ugh... I just... can’t get enough... tonight has been fucking amaz-” She was interrupted by a series of quick knocks at the door.

“Sana!? Are you in there?” Minkyu had finally woken up.

“Minkyu! I - Yeah. I got really sick and have been in the bathroom,” she explained.

He pulled at the locked door a couple times. “Let me in!”

“Uh, no babe. I’m a disgusting mess right now. I don’t want you to see me like this - Unngh...” She had stopped moving her hips in her panic, so Yejun clutched her ass in his hands and did the work for her.

“Who cares, I’m a mess too. Just let me take care of you.” Her boyfriend was determined to get to her. It was obvious that he was still quite out of it himself.

“I’m gonna - fuuuck - throw up again. Please just go back to camp. Ohh... I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m done.” The cheating girlfriend was having trouble stifling her moans as Yejun steadily increased the intensity.

“Sana, that’s stupid! C’mon...”

Yejun put his hand over her mouth, and called out to the doorway, “Don’t worry dude, she’s better off finishing up in here with a proper bathroom and stuff. I’m taking good care of her.” He punctuated his last sentence with a stern thrust upwards into her pussy. “I’m making sure she gets plenty of fluids. Get some rest man. You don’t sound so great yourself.”

“Just let me in, Yejun.” Minkyu pleaded.

Yejun replied sternly, “Minkyu. People are trying to sleep and you’re becoming a nuisance. Listen to your girlfriend and go back to your tent.”

“Yeah, b-babe. Let me finish up - Ohhh fuck - I’ll be right there. I promise,” Sana insisted, losing control of her moaning, and hoping they would be mistaken for sickly sounds.

“Fucking bull shit...” Minkyu muttered, the sounds of his uneven steps trailing off away from the door.

“Maybe I should go...” Sana whispered, feeling guilty.

Yejun ceased his movements, abruptly pausing the stimulation they had both been enjoying. Instead of answering, he took a moment to look into her eyes, studying her silently. The conflicted Sana pondered, but her instincts took over, and she started grinding into him again.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop,” Yejun said proudly.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” she demanded.

“Slut...” He teased.

“Asshole,” she fired back.

“You got all riled up again. You like almost getting caught, don’t you?”

“Ngh... Maybe...”

“You know, all he’d have to do is take a quick peek around to find the rest of your clothes on the ground out there.” Yejun grinned smugly, still sitting back and watching Sana squirm around on his lap.

“Oh fuck...”

“Even then he’d probably be clueless to the fact that his sweet girlfriend is secretly a big cock slut.”

“Hnngh...”

“Spending the whole night getting passed around like a rag doll and bred by a bunch Just mere feet away from him.”

“Fuck... Yejun...” His words were driving her crazy. She was grinding him as hard as she could, but she needed more.

“God, you’re a needy little bitch,” he laughed, smacking her ass.

“AH! I need you to fuck me so hard! Right now!”

“Like Minkyu never could?”

“Ngh... Please!”

“Say it!”

“YES! You already know you fuck me way better! Now just fucking do it!”

“Admit you’re a cheating slut.”

“I’m a cheating slut! Ughhh!”

“And who do you belon-”

“I belong to you, Yejun! I’m yours! You’re better in every way! Now just please, for the love of God, fuck my slutty, little pussy!” Sana spouted everything she thought he wanted to hear, and it finally satisfied him. Yejun lifted the already impaled woman into the air, and slammed her back into the nearest wall with a crash. She could only hang onto him for dear life as he thrust into her like a caged beast.

The trailer shook back and forth wildly as Yejun gave her everything he had. Sana’s legs flailed helplessly in the air as she was smashed repeatedly against the enclosure. “YES! YES! OHHH FUUUUCK!” She screamed for him over and over, the thoughtless words being pumped out of her with each harsh jab at her cervix. Her body was electrified with immense pleasure, and her cunt was drenching Yejun’s cock with thick cream.

“I’M... GONNA... FUCKING... CUM... SO... HARD!” She squealed as her climax crashed down on her. Yejun didn’t miss a beat, and continued to pound away at her through her mind-numbing orgasm. Her pussy sprayed clear liquid violently, coating his thrusting lower half in her juices. Still, he did not let up, and she continued to cum for longer than she thought was possible. Sana felt as if she might black out, her vision blurring as he overwhelmed her.

With one last mighty thrust, Yejun bottomed out and his cock exploded. He groaned as he flooded her deepest depths with his virile seed. As he emptied the last of his balls into her, his legs began to tremble from his exertion. They both fell backwards onto the bed together, a sweaty, twisted heap of flesh. Beyond exhausted, the pair lay there in a daze, breathing heavily. His semi-hard dick still planted deep within her, they eventually dozed off.

—

Sana’s eyes opened abruptly a few hours later to the sound of aggressive knocking at the trailer door. She cursed under her breath as she regained consciousness in the midst of the depraved aftermath around her. Her naked body was draped over Yejun’s, who was still asleep. She peeled her sticky skin from his, and rose to her feet. The room was an absolute mess, evidence of the brutal gangbang wherever she looked.

“Sana? I know you’re in there. Just come out and talk to me... please,” Minkyu said from outside.

“Give me a minute, babe. I must’ve passed out on the toilet...” She looked around frantically for an idea of how to make herself half-way decent. She heard him sigh heavily as she scrambled to the bathroom, careful to not step on one of the several naked men sprawled out on the floor. Sana felt a surge of relief to find that her clothes were in a neat pile near the sink. She hastily splashed her face with water and pulled her clothes on over her soiled skin. She grabbed a towel and draped it over her shoulders in an attempt to conceal more of her body, before heading towards the door.

Sana slowly opened the door and slipped outside into the bright desert, careful not to reveal a single square-inch of the interior. Minkyu stood at the foot of the steps, looking beyond disappointed.

“I’m so sorry, Minkyu...” She said, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Are you okay? You look horrific,” he asked, clutching her shoulders with extended arms and inspecting her.

“I’m alright now... I don’t remember much, aside from hugging the damn toilet all night,” she lied.

“Aw, me neither... I can’t believe how drunk we both got. I was so out of it.”

“Yeah...” Sana was eager to hear how much detail her boyfriend could recall, before needlessly trying to cover things up.

“I do remember being super pissed that you were locked in there. And that you guys wouldn’t let me in. They could’ve done really bad things to you, you know?”

“You’re right, babe...” Images of the wild orgy flashed through her mind. “That was not safe. I couldn’t think straight, and just wanted to be left alone. Luckily, no one laid a finger one me. I know they can be jerks, but those guys treated me very well and took care of all my needs.”

“Well that’s a relief. I just wish I could’ve been the one to take care of you...” Minkyu seemed convinced already that nothing unsavory had happened.

“I know. I wish you had been there too. I guess we both let a night of free drinks get a little out of control.” Sana felt she was finally in the clear, and could relax a bit.

“Seriously... crazy night. Did I do a body shot from your tits?” He asked, smiling.

She laughed. “I think so, yeah. That was... interesting.”

“I guess we both got to show off a little, then. The guys were probably so jealous that I got to lick your boobs and stuff,” he said proudly.

Sana couldn’t help but laugh again at the irony. “Oh, I’m sure they were. I gotta admit, it was pretty fun being basically topless for everyone. Thanks for being okay with that.” She decided to reveal a small shred of truth about her feelings, as it felt natural in that moment.

“No problem. I suppose I’m learning to be less controlling. Trying anyway. I trust you, and you deserve to cut loose and flaunt your sexy side a bit under the right circumstances.”

“Thanks babe. That’s very mature of you.” Sana could hardly believe how well the exchange was progressing.

The reunited couple turned towards the trailer in unison as the door creaked open. Yejun, shirtless as usual, stepped towards them with a wide smile.

“Hey, big guy! Sorry about last night. I think we all got more toasted than we meant to. Glad Sana’s okay. I stayed up as late as I could to make sure she was still breathing. No hard feelings?” He extended a hand towards Minkyu, who shook it without hesitation.

“No worries, man. My bad for getting all... shitty... towards you. I was just concerned about her. Anyway, thanks for looking out for her.”

“Happy to do it. It was a damn fun night overall. You guys are welcome to party with us any time. We’ll be heading out soon, so feel free to move your stuff and claim the spot for yourselves.”

“Thanks, Yejun,” Minkyu said.

Yejun started back up the steps, and then added, “Oh! Sana, I think you left something of yours in the bathroom.”

“Oh woops. Be right back, babe.” Sana climbed up the steps and hurried inside behind him.

The second they were out of Minkyu’s line of sight, Yejun grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him. He held her tightly in his strong arms as they kissed ferociously. Their hands clawed at each other’s bodies as their tongues swirled together. Sana wrapped a leg around him, and broke the kiss, staring into his blue eyes.

“Will I ever see you again?” She whispered.

“Of course, you will.” He stuffed a small strip of paper into her cleavage, and pecked her with his lips on her soft chest and up the length of her neck. He let go of her finally and patted her ass. “Till next time. Don’t forget what you are.”

“Your slut.” Sana smiled at Yejun one last time, before exiting the trailer and joining her boyfriend.

#sana smut #twice smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

1K notes · View notes

lxvsiick · 9 months ago

Text

YOU CAME TO ME, MY ANGEL | PARK SUNGHOON X READER

SECOND PART TO CALLING ON MY ANGEL (read part one first!)

PAIRING: troublemaker! park sunghoon x good girl! fem! reader

SUMMARY: When the attention on Sunghoon starts to shift because of his smile, Y/n develops a weird feeling in her stomach.

GENRE: imagine, good girl x bad boy, fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint

WORDCOUNT: 4.6k

WARNING: a kissing scene at the end! sunghoon calls y/n "angel"

A/N: ngl, when i was writing this and rereading it over, the want to sleep on a highway was so tempting :D i'm glad you all like CALLING ON MY ANGEL! i was actually surprised by how many people liked it ,, i hope you like the second part! enjoy!

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The afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of the school hallways, casting soft, golden light on Y/n as she walked with a noticeable bounce in her step. A bright smile lit up her face, and in her hand was a small cone of ice cream, which she licked contentedly. She looked like a sweet angel, her joyful energy spreading around her like sunshine.

Beside her, Sunghoon walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes fixed forward, face blank, like he couldn’t care less about anything happening around him. His usual cold, intimidating presence stood in sharp contrast to the warm light she brought with her. The other students in the hall were wary of him, their eyes lowering as they passed, whispers swirling in the air.

“Isn’t that Sunghoon?”

“He looks so scary...”

“What’s Y/n still doing with him?”

The whispers weren’t lost on Y/n. She could hear the murmurs, feel the stares. Her steps faltered slightly, but then she leaned closer to him, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. Her voice was soft, like a secret meant just for him.

"Just ignore them, Hoonie" she said, her smile unwavering despite the growing tension around them. "They don’t know anything about you."

He glanced at her, expression still unreadable, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. A small sigh left his lips as his gaze flicked back to the students.

"I don’t care what they think," he said, his voice low and casual, as if none of it mattered. His eyes briefly caught hers, a quiet warmth under the tough exterior. "As long as you’re next to me, Angel."

At that moment, her heart skipped a beat, the corners of her lips lifting in a shy smile. She always melted a little when he called her that. Angel—his pet name for her—was something so sweet and personal, it never failed to make her feel special.

But the effect of that single word was much bigger than she realized. The students in the hallway, already whispering, suddenly let out audible gasps. Heads turned, and the once-muted whispers escalated.

"He called her Angel?"

"Did you hear that?"

"What is even happening right now?"

The tension in the air was thick, but Y/n wasn’t fazed. She kept her head high, finishing her ice cream with a bright smile, completely unfazed by the reactions of those around them. Beside her, Sunghoon maintained his calm, unfazed by the stir his simple term of endearment had caused.

In that moment, it didn’t matter to either of them what anyone else thought. It was just them, walking together, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

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The sun hung high over the quad as Y/n walked with a couple of her friends, laughter and light conversation filling the space between them. They were chatting about random things—weekend plans, a funny moment from class—when her attention shifted to the other side of the quad.

In the distance, she spotted Sunghoon, his familiar, tall figure walking with his group of friends. As usual, students around them kept their distance, their heads low as they moved out of the way. His group, known for their intimidating presence, had that effect on everyone. The air around them felt thicker, quieter—until she broke it.

Without hesitation, she raised her arm and called out, "Hoonie!" Her voice rang out across the open space, bright and cheerful. She waved at him with a big smile, completely oblivious to the attention she had just drawn.

Her shout cut through the noise of the quad. Heads turned, curious eyes following the direction of her gaze. Sunghoon, hearing her voice, paused mid-conversation. His eyes scanned the crowd before locking onto her. For a moment, his usual cool expression lingered, but then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into a small smile. He raised his hand, giving her a soft wave back.

That single smile—the rare, fleeting expression—seemed to shift the very atmosphere around him. The students, who were accustomed to seeing his stoic, unreadable face, were stunned.

"Did he just… smile?"

"I’ve never seen him smile before…"

"Wait, that’s what he looks like when he smiles?"

Whispers erupted among the crowd as they began to murmur in disbelief. The quad buzzed with low, shocked conversations as people exchanged glances. Some students stood frozen, processing what they'd just seen. For the first time, Sunghoon, the one they'd always viewed as cold and unapproachable, looked human.

"He’s… kind of handsome, isn’t he?" one girl whispered, nudging her friend.

"Yeah, I never noticed before, but with that smile…"

It wasn’t just the smile—it was the way he looked at Y/n, the way his expression softened, just for her. There was something so genuine in that moment, and for many of the students watching, it completely shattered the tough, distant image they had built of him.

The shift in perception was palpable. As Y/n continued walking, her friends giggling beside her, she had no idea that the simple wave and smile had sparked a quiet change. The students who had once feared or misunderstood him were now seeing a different side—a warmer, more human side—thanks to her.

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The next day, the atmosphere around Sunghoon had noticeably changed. Walking side by side, Y/n chattered away about random things as he escorted her to her class. Though her words bounced around with lively energy, his focus never wavered from her, watching her intently, soaking in every detail of her presence.

As they moved through the hallway, something was different. The students, who used to avoid eye contact or shy away when he passed, were behaving… differently. No longer did they lower their heads or shuffle nervously to the side. Instead, some even made brief eye contact and gave short, polite nods of acknowledgment.

"Hey, Sunghoon," a student greeted as they walked by.

He didn’t respond verbally but gave a subtle nod back, his attention still centered on Y/n.

What really caught him off guard was when a couple of girls from another class shyly waved at him as they passed. "Good morning, Sunghoon!" one of them chirped.

Again, he acknowledged them with a small nod but didn't waver from his focus. His priority was always her. The smile he had shared the day before had sparked a shift in how people saw him, but he barely noticed. All he cared about was the angel walking beside him.

Unbothered by the newfound attention, he listened as Y/n talked animatedly about her latest interest. To him, the hallways might as well have been empty, because the only thing that mattered was hearing her voice, seeing her smile.

When they finally reached her classroom, they came to a stop in front of the door. She turned to face him, her eyes bright as she smiled up at him. "Thanks for walking me to class," she said, her tone warm and filled with gratitude.

His lips curled into a rare, soft smile reserved just for her. He raised his hand, gently patting her head in a gesture that had become second nature by now. "No problem, Angel," he said in that low, calm voice of his. "I'll come get you after class so we can go to lunch together."

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the pet name, but she nodded happily. "Sounds good!" she replied with a grin before turning toward the classroom.

As she disappeared through the door, he lingered for a moment, watching her go with a fondness that was impossible to miss. Then, with his usual composed demeanor, he turned and made his way back down the hall, the whispers and greetings of his classmates now background noise to his thoughts of her.

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After Sunghoon left her at the door, Y/n walked to her desk and sat down, pulling out her notebook and pens, preparing for the class ahead. She hummed a little under her breath, replaying the moment he'd patted her head. It was always sweet, the way he had his reserved moments only for her.

The quiet of the classroom was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching her desk. She looked up and saw a group of three girls standing in front of her. Their expressions were friendly, but there was a hint of curiosity glimmering in their eyes. One of them, a girl with short, dark hair, Hana, spoke first.

"Hey, Y/n, right?" she asked, her tone friendly but direct.

She nodded, smiling politely. "Yeah, that's me. What’s up?"

The three exchanged a quick glance before the girl continued, "We were wondering… about Sunghoon. He’s always walking with you. What’s he like?"

Caught off guard by the sudden interest, Y/n blinked, her pen hovering over her notebook. She wasn't used to people asking her about him—most students were too afraid to even mention him in passing. But after yesterday’s smile in the quad, she supposed it was natural for some curiosity to grow.

"Um, he’s…" She hesitated, thinking of how to describe him. "He’s actually really nice once you get to know him. He’s just... quiet around others."

The second girl, with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, Jihye, leaned in a bit closer. "You mean he's not as scary as he looks? I mean, without all the bruises and cuts, he's actually really handsome."

Y/n felt her heart do a little flip at the comment. Handsome? She supposed she’d always known that, but hearing it from someone else felt... strange. "Yeah," she answered, smiling softly. "He’s definitely different when you get to know him."

The third girl, the quietest of the group, Sola, suddenly asked, "So, is he talking to anyone? Or, like... dating someone?" Her eyes widened with curiosity as she leaned forward, clearly eager for the answer.

Y/n froze for a moment, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t dating him, not officially, but the two of them were undeniably close. She could feel the weird sensation bubbling in her chest—a feeling she couldn't quite name. Was it jealousy? But why would she be jealous?

Trying to stay composed, she gave a gentle shrug. "I’m not really sure. We don’t talk about that much."

Jihye sighed in relief. "That’s good. I was hoping he wasn’t seeing anyone because..." She paused and exchanged another glance with her friends. "Would you mind introducing me to him? I’ve been wanting to talk to him, but he’s, well... hard to approach. You seem to know him really well."

The strange feeling in Y/n's stomach tightened into something more distinct—an uneasy knot. She wasn't sure why, but the thought of introducing someone to him, especially a girl who clearly found him attractive, made her chest tighten. Still, she kept her smile soft, trying to hide her discomfort.

"I can try," she said, her voice gentle. "He’s... a bit reserved with new people, but I’ll see what I can do."

The three girls beamed, clearly thrilled by her answer. "Thanks, Y/n! You’re the best," Hana said, before the group finally walked back to their seats.

As they left, Y/n stared down at her notebook, her pen resting idly in her hand. That weird feeling wouldn’t go away, and she didn’t know why. Was she... jealous? She shook her head slightly, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t make sense. But as she sat there, thinking about introducing someone else to him, she couldn’t shake the unease that now lingered in her chest.

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The lunch bell rang, signaling a break in the day. Y/n was still sitting at her desk, lost in thought. The conversation from earlier with the three girls had left her feeling unsettled. She was mulling over their questions about Sunghoon, when a familiar voice broke through her reverie.

"Hey, Angel," Sunghoon called softly from the doorway of her classroom, hands casually in his pockets, his usual blank expression on his face. "You ready for lunch?"

Snapped out of her thoughts, she blinked and smiled up at him, gathering her things before walking over. "Yeah, let’s go."

They walked side by side through the hallways, a familiar rhythm to their steps. But Sunghoon quickly noticed something was off. Y/n wasn’t her usual bubbly self, and her expression was distant, as if she was caught up in her thoughts again.

He glanced down at her, frowning slightly. "What are you thinking about?"

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up at him, blinking. "Huh?"

"You’re quiet today. What’s on your mind?" he asked, his tone soft but curious.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I was just wondering... what do you think about making new friends?"

Sunghoon let out a small, amused snort, his lips quirking into a brief smile. "Don’t care. I’ve got my boys and you. That’s all I need."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt her cheeks flush. She wasn’t sure why, but his simple words—so direct and clear—made her feel warm inside. "Oh," she murmured, feeling slightly flustered. "That’s... sweet."

They continued walking, but the knot in her stomach, the one that had been brewing since this morning, tightened as they approached the cafeteria.

After they grabbed their lunches, they made their way to their usual table, where Sunghoon's friends were already gathered. The atmosphere was comfortable, familiar, but the tension inside her didn’t ease.

As they sat down, though, a voice interrupted the peaceful moment.

"Y/n!" came a call, cheerful and bright.

Jihye, from this morning, the one who had asked her about Sunghoon, appeared beside the table with her lunch tray in hand. She smiled widely, as if they were old friends, and without waiting for an invitation, asked, "Mind if I sit with you guys?"

True to her sweet, angelic nature, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to refuse, even though she felt a surge of that strange emotion bubble up inside her. "Uh, sure," she said, offering a polite smile.

The girl didn’t hesitate and took the empty seat—right next to Sunghoon. His friends exchanged knowing glances, but no one said anything.

As they began to eat, Sunghoon's attention was solely on his lunch, but the girl seemed determined to pull him into conversation.

"So, Sunghoon, do you like any sports?" she asked, her eyes bright with interest.

He barely looked up, responding with a curt, "No."

Unfazed, she tried again. "Do you hang out with your friends often after school?"

"Sometimes," he said, his tone flat.

The girl wasn’t deterred by his short answers. She continued asking him question after question, her tone almost flirty, though Sunghoon didn’t seem the least bit interested. His answers grew shorter, and eventually, he stopped answering altogether, merely shrugging or nodding when necessary.

All the while, Y/n sat quietly in her seat, picking at her lunch. Her usual bright energy was dulled, replaced by that growing, unfamiliar feeling in her chest. She wasn’t sure what to call it—jealousy? Frustration? Whatever it was, it made her stomach twist uncomfortably as she listened to the girl chatter away at Sunghoon.

His friends exchanged amused looks, clearly sensing the awkwardness in the air. Jake nudged Jay with a smirk, and he raised an eyebrow.

Finally, the lunch period was almost over, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. As the bell rang, she quickly stood up, grabbing her tray. "We should head to class," she said softly.

Sunghoon stood as well, ignoring the girl’s lingering presence and focusing solely on Y/n. "Let’s go, Angel," he said, his voice low and calm.

The girl’s face fell slightly, but Y/n hardly noticed. Her mind was too focused on the odd, swirling emotion that had taken root inside her. She couldn’t help but feel like something had changed—and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

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The hum of the engine filled the comfortable silence inside Sunghoon's car. Normally, the drive home from school was filled with the sound of Y/n chatting away about her day, excitedly sharing the details of her classes, her small victories, or even her frustrations. But today was different.

She was quiet—too quiet.

Glancing over at her in the passenger seat, Sunghoon noticed the way she was staring out the window, her eyes distant and lost in thought. Her hands, usually expressive as she spoke, were still in her lap, fingers fidgeting slightly.

His brow furrowed in concern. Something was bothering her, and he could tell.

Instead of driving straight to her house, he took a detour, turning the wheel in the direction of the small park near her home. The moment he pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine, the sudden stillness seemed to snap her out of her thoughts. She blinked and looked around, realizing they weren’t at her house.

"Why are we here?" she asked, her voice soft, almost distant.

Sunghoon turned in his seat to face her, his gaze steady and gentle. "Angel," he began, his tone low and soothing, "what's wrong? You’ve been quiet all day. I know something’s bothering you."

Her lips parted as if to say something, but she hesitated, her eyes dropping to her hands. For a moment, she fidgeted in her seat, unsure of how to put her feelings into words. But Sunghoon waited patiently, his gaze never wavering.

Finally, she sighed and looked back up at him. "It’s... it’s nothing, really. It’s just..." She trailed off again, struggling.

"Angel, you can talk to me," he encouraged, his voice soft.

She bit her lip, then took a deep breath. "Okay. Yesterday, after you walked me to class, some girls came up to me and... they asked me about you."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

"They asked me about what you’re like," she explained, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "And then one of them—she asked me if I could... introduce her to you."

At that, Sunghoon frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. "And?"

"I didn’t know what to say," she admitted. "I couldn’t refuse because, well, I didn’t want to be rude. But... I wanted to refuse. I wanted to say no. And ever since then, I’ve had this weird feeling in my stomach, like..." She trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Like what?" he asked gently, his voice calm and soothing.

She sighed, shaking her head. "I don’t know... like I don’t want anyone else to get close to you. It’s stupid, I know, but it just... bothered me."

For a moment, the car was quiet as her words hung in the air. Then, Sunghoon let out a small, playful chuckle. "Angel," he said, a teasing grin spreading across his face, "are you jealous?"

Y/n’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. "What? No!" she protested, lightly smacking his arm in embarrassment. But her blush betrayed her.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "You don’t have to lie. It’s okay if you’re jealous. It’s kind of cute, actually."

She groaned and covered her face with her hands, her blush growing deeper. "I don’t know what I’m feeling," she mumbled through her fingers. "Maybe I am jealous. I just... I don’t like the idea of other people wanting to get close to you like that."

His playful grin softened into a tender smile as he reached out and gently took her hand in his. The warmth of his touch calmed her slightly, and she peeked out from behind her hands.

"Angel," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand, "no one could ever replace you. I don’t want anyone else but you. I’m yours. Okay?"

Her heart swelled at his words, and she finally dropped her hands from her face, meeting his gaze. His eyes were warm and sincere, full of affection. A small, shy smile tugged at her lips.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

For a moment, they simply sat there, hands intertwined, the weight of her worries slowly lifting. She felt silly for being jealous, but his reassurance made her feel better—like everything was going to be okay.

With a soft squeeze of her hand, Sunghoon smiled again. "Now, are you ready to go home? Or should we stay here a little longer so you can keep being jealous over me?"

She laughed softly, rolling her eyes. "Let’s go home, Hoonie."

With one last squeeze of her hand, he started the car and pulled out of the park, the tension between them melting away as they drove in comfortable silence.

˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚꩜

The hallways were bustling with students as Sunghoon walked alongside his six friends, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. They surrounded him, their voices a mix of laughter and banter as they discussed their morning classes and plans for later. Though he was in the center, Sunghoon wasn’t really engaging, just listening with a relaxed, blank expression.

Suddenly, Jihye stepped into their path, her bright smile directed solely at him. His friends quieted down, their attention shifting to her as she confidently strode up and stopped in front of him.

He came to a halt, the rest of his friends following suit, and looked down at her with an uninterested stare. His posture didn’t change, still nonchalant, but his eyes gave nothing away.

“Hi,” she greeted, her voice sweet and almost too eager. "You know, you’re not as scary as everyone says you are." She grinned wider. "Actually, I think you’re really handsome."

His friends exchanged amused glances, some of them snickering at the bold compliment. Jake elbowed Jay lightly, trying not to laugh out loud, but Sunghoon remained stone-faced, unmoved by her words.

“Thanks," he said flatly, the word carrying no emotion whatsoever.

Encouraged by what she perceived as an opening, the girl stepped a little closer, her confidence growing. "So, I was thinking... maybe we could hang out sometime? Go on a date?"

The air shifted. His friends went quiet, waiting for his response, some of them already stifling laughter, knowing exactly how this was going to go.

Without missing a beat, Sunghoon looked her dead in the eyes, his voice cold and blunt. "I’m not interested," he said simply, his words like a slap in the face. He didn’t even soften the blow. "And I never will be."

His rejection was firm and absolute, and her face fell slightly, the confident smile wavering.

Before she could even recover, he continued, his tone sharp now. "Stop bothering Y/n about me. Leave her alone."

Jihye's expression soured at the mention of Y/n, and her posture stiffened. Clearly offended, she crossed her arms and glared up at him. "Her?" she sneered. "You’d rather be with someone like her? She’s nothing special."

That was it.

The air around Sunghoon changed in an instant, his relaxed stance becoming tense. He took a step closer to her, his towering figure casting a shadow over her. His jaw clenched, and his gaze hardened into a menacing glare.

“Say that again,” he challenged, his voice low and threatening.

Her eyes widened, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. She swallowed hard but held her ground. “I-I’m just saying—”

He cut her off, his voice ice-cold. "Don’t insult her. Not ever again."

The threat was clear, and she realized quickly that she’d crossed a line. His friends stood silently behind him, watching the scene unfold but not interfering, their faces reflecting the same unreadable expressions.

“You think you can just walk up to me and insult someone I care about? You’re not worth my time, and you’re definitely not worth hers." His eyes narrowed, and he leaned down slightly, his words sharp as a knife. "So, get lost."

Stunned and clearly humiliated, the girl stumbled back, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment. She glanced around at his friends, who were watching her with barely concealed amusement, and then back at him. She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it and turned on her heel, storming away in a huff.

As she disappeared down the hallway, Heeseung broke the silence with a low whistle. "Man, she didn’t stand a chance, did she?"

Jay laughed, shaking his head. "I almost feel bad for her. Almost."

But Sunghoon wasn’t interested in the jokes. His expression was still hardened as he stared after her retreating figure, but after a moment, he let out a long breath, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

Jake nudged him playfully. "Guess she knows now not to mess with Y/n."

"She better," he muttered, his gaze softening only slightly as he turned away and resumed walking.

˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚꩜

The sun was starting to set as Sunghoon drove through the familiar streets, the hum of the engine a calming presence. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Y/n was happily chatting away, her voice light as she recounted the events of her day. Her words were full of the small details—her classes, something funny one of her friends said, and the little things she noticed on her walk to school.

She was radiant when she spoke, her face lighting up with every new story, and Sunghoon couldn’t help but watch her as he drove, a soft smile tugging at his lips. The world outside seemed to blur into the background; all that mattered was the sound of her voice and the way her eyes sparkled.

As they approached the park, he turned the steering wheel and pulled into the parking lot, the car coming to a gentle stop under the shade of a large tree. They’d been here before, a quiet place where they could steal a few moments together away from everything else.

“Let’s hang out here for a bit,” he said as he turned off the car.

She looked over at him with a smile, nodding as she continued talking, this time about something one of her classmates did during lunch. He leaned back in his seat, one arm resting on the wheel, the other draped casually across his lap as he listened intently to every word she said.

But after a while, Y/n noticed the way he was staring at her—his eyes warm, focused entirely on her, as if she was the only thing that mattered. Her words faltered for a second, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks as she realized he wasn’t just listening; he was captivated.

“What?” she asked, her voice soft and a little shy.

He didn’t say anything at first, just kept staring, the intensity of his gaze making her heart race. Then, slowly, he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from hers. The quiet rustle of the park’s leaves surrounded them, but in that moment, it felt like the world had stilled.

His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

Her breath hitched, her blush deepening as her eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes. She swallowed, feeling the warmth of his closeness, and after a second, she gave a small, shy nod.

That was all the confirmation Sunghoon needed.

In one smooth, gentle motion, he closed the remaining distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a soft, tender kiss. It was sweet, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt her heart swell, her hands coming up to lightly rest on his arm as they shared the moment, lost in the quiet intimacy of the park.

˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚꩜

PART ONE | CALLING ON MY ANGEL

MASTERLIST

#lxvsiick </3 #kpop #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen #enha #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x y/n

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 1 month ago

Text

ROUTE 666

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC

Summary: it’s the year 1984 and Star goes to a roadside bar off of Devil’s Highway that a friend of hers invited her to. What Star doesn’t know is that someone is waiting for her beyond the velvet drapes.

Warnings: SMUT. Lots of pussy licking. 18+ CONTENT. Mentions of blood, Violence.

Part Three

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore entered Vaisseau just before the sun could peek over the horizon. The windows were already covered with thick, blacked–out curtains. At the bar stood a woman named Ivory. She’s a human, Onyx’s personal blood bank and pussy. Once a small town girl living in a lonely world, she was taken in by a vampire biker gang and passed around for feast and sex.

Ivory was busy shining glasses with a cloth. Her chocolate–brown eyes fell upon Elias as he made his was towards the bar. Ivory placed the glass amongst a row of others she dried off. The faint sound of ‘I Love Rock N Roll’ could be heard from a jukebox. Stack took a seat and tapped the bar for Ivory to attend to him.

“Grab me some O negative out of the fridge, baby.”

“No problem.”

Ivory swept her eyes over Stack before walking away to retrieve a blood bag for him. Stack followed the purposeful sway of her ass in a pair of daisy dukes. She styled the denim cut–offs with sheer black stockings that shimmered and a very cropped T-shirt.

Ivory opened a fridge, chilling smoke wafting her face. She thumbed through the many blood bags and came across what Stack needed. Grabbing it, she went to pour it into a glass tumbler. Ivory made her way back over to Stack, sitting the cup on a folded, black napkin in front of him.

“Drink straw?” Ivory offered with a hospitable smile.

“Nah, no need, darling. Onyx sleeping?”

“Not yet. He’s in the back,” Ivory motioned with her finger painted a vibrant red, “You can go on back there.”

Stack gulped down the O negative blood. He licked the rim and glided his blood–covered tongue over his teeth. It tasted decent, Stack preferring bag blood chilled. He stood up, sucking on his lips to clear the rest of the crimson delight away before disappearing behind a black drapery.

Stack made a left, then a right, until he was standing within the doorway of Onyx’s office. It wasn’t the most decorative, but it was useful to handle the business side of things at the bar. Onyx glanced up at Stack and nodded his head in greeting.

“Alright there, brother?”

“Pretty damn good.”

Stack propped his shoulder against the doorway and lit a blunt with a match.

“How was your porn star pussy?”

“Delicious…and no I don’t plan to share.”

Onyx released a deep laugh.

“You’ve had Ivory.” Onyx countered.

“Did. And that still won’t change my mind.” Stack quipped.

“The way she was eyeing me like she wanted this fat cock…I know a hopper when I see one. And she is a hopper…”

Stack pushed himself up and approached Onyx’s desk. He leaned forward against it, propping himself up on his knuckles. Stack’s eyes glowed menacingly. Onyx simply smirked.

“Don’t. Talk. About her. Like that. Onyx. Or I’ll kill ya’.”

“I’m only fuckin’ with you, Stack. What you want anyway?” Onyx brushed off Stack’s threat, continuing with counting his cash.

“Came to sleep. Can’t afford to burn in a bed when that sun come up. Better safe than sorry.”

“Since when do you sleep in a casket?” Onyx joked.

“Since now, nigga. Star still at the motel.”

A sinister smile crept over Onyx’s lips.

“You ain’t turn her like you said you would?”

Stack flicked his gaze away, taking a hit of his blunt.

“Not yet. Soon.”

“You could just keep her around like I do Ivory.” Onyx suggested, placing a stack of Benjamin’s away in a safe deposit box.

“And watch her age? I want another eternal partner, Onyx. You know how long I’ve been searching since me and Mary split?”

“I know, Stack. Just…tread lightly with it, aight? I got lucky with Ivory. From what Cora says, she’s perfect.”

“Ivory ain’t got shit to lose. Star different.”

Onyx dropped his head with frustration, “Which is why I said be careful. Remember…we didn’t have a choice.”

The glow from Stack’s eyes dimmed to brown. Onyx was right. Once again, he was given that painful reminder. Despite being surrounded by so many others like him, lurking in the shadows, there was still loneliness. Stack walked this immortal life with Mary in the midst because she was the last connection he could hold onto that understood.

His cousin, Sammie Moore, went on to have a successful career as a big, bad, Blues man. Stack was proud of him. Mary fought fang and coffin nail to keep Stack for herself, but he’d had enough. Enough of her possessiveness. Enough of her jealousy. Enough of her lack of remorse whenever Stack would reflect on his twin, Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore.

They got us in museums, Smoke. Mobster Museum…Black History Museum…we icons. Just like I knew we’d be…wish ya’ was here to see it all…

But his mortal life was snatched from beneath his feet.

So to snatch Star’s would be just as wrong.

He would need her consent.

“I’m a head down to the basement…”

Stack left and slow strolled down the hall until he found his way at the top of stairs. He was about to descend into a sleeping quarter with coffins until a familiar, condescending, backwoods country accent caught his ears.

“The fuck you doin’ here?!”

Stack’s fangs popped out violently and he turned carefully with a steady gaze on a woman he hoped he didn’t have to run into.

“Raven.”

“Surprised to see you walking around here freely after the shit you pulled last time.”

Stack released a frustrated sigh, “What? Because I killed a Choctaw?”

“You spilled blood on this end of Route 666 and with that comes trouble. Trouble we ain’t had in a long time until you showed up, nigga.”

Raven’s cynical nature irritated Stack to no end. Always confrontational whenever he touched down in Arizona. Things weren’t always bad between them, hell, things were good as far as he knew. As long as his dick was in her wet pussy she didn’t care. But because he forced his fist through the chest cavity of a Choctaw he’s the bad guy?

“Why you really mad, Raven? Tell me that.” Stack argued.

Raven’s left eye flinched with rage.

“You ain’t shit, Elias. First you let Mary come between us. Then you jeopardize everything because you can’t just swallow your pride. They’ve been watching us because of you, nigga!”

“They been watching us since I turned vampire back in 1932, Raven! Don’t make no difference!” Stack shouted.

Onyx appeared from his office. His eyes fell on Raven and his shoulders slouched.

“Raven, I told you Stack was coming here. He’s one of ours. Been one of ours. Blood Riders united,” Onyx folded his arms across his sculpted chest.

“I’m going to sleep,” Stack adjusted his leather moto vest, “Ain’t got time for this shit, Raven. It’s either you miss me or you don’t. Point FUCKING blank.”

“I got somebody! I’m over you!”

“Don’t look like it,” Onyx chimed in.

Raven’s hissed with her fangs poking out to threaten.

“Fuck you, Onyx! Who side you on anyway?!”

“The side where I can have some peace counting this money.”

Raven sneered before storming off. As she breezed past the black drapes, she caught Ivory looking at her and that’s when her icy core melted to that of flirtatious heat. She winked at Ivory and blew her a kiss.

Stack descended the stairs with inhuman speed.

Clearly, she wasn’t over him. And clearly being with someone else didn’t stop her from flirting with Ivory.

He found a spare coffin open and took off his vest, placing it on a hook. A coffin across from him, a brown one with a carved, ornate style popped opened, revealing golden silk. Inside, tangled within each other’s embrace, fully naked, was Legend and Cora.

Cora sat up first, stretching her arms. She locked eyes with Stack before he settled into his coffin.

“Enjoy my friend, Stack?” Cora questioned with a sultry voice.

“I have you to thank for that. Just like a Collector should. ‘Ppreciate ya’, baby.” Stack winked at Cora.

“Anytime,” Cora exhaled, “I’m hungry. Can’t sleep.”

“Got enough blood left upstairs. Better get it before it ain’t no more good.” Stack revealed.

Cora stepped out of the coffin gracefully. She sauntered over to a chair and grabbed a long, billowing, ivory robe with feathered details.

“You get a chance to fuck her? Or did you put her in a coma with your tongue?”

Stack relaxed back against the inside of the coffin, his head cushioned by the pillow. He stared up at the ceiling of the unfinished basement, spiderwebs and other creepy crawlers showing themselves. A faint smile tickled his full lips.

“Number two.” Stack replied smugly.

“Told ya’ she tastes like heaven on earth.”

“Don’t go makin’ me jealous now, Cora.” Stack replied playfully.

Cora made her way towards the stairs. Legend stirred awake, siting up in search of Cora. His monstrous dick sat up high and imposingly girthy. Enough to split you open. But Cora was a vampire so she could handle it any way she liked.

“Cora?” Legend called out.

“I’ll be back. I’m hungry. Unless you wanna go feed elsewhere? You know the strip is still lively.”

“Nah, it’ll be daytime soon.”

“Suit yourself,” Cora climbed up until she was gone.

Stack shut his casket, happy that it was a soundproof one.

He didn’t need to hear Legend and Cora fucking from dusk till dawn.

Only thoughts of Star and her captivating brown eyes, beautiful smile, sweet moans, and how he felt lost until he met her.

Red, sheer curtains billow beyond open windows on both sides of the hall. Moonlight bathed her path as she walked slowly, wearing nothing but the scent of Hypnotic Poison.

Come to me…

Star, caught up in a dream, followed the sound of that voice until she was face to face with her lover. Naked just like her. fog helped to establish the mood and atmosphere, giving off a dark, dramatic, sensual and even slightly mysterious aura.

Stack…

He picked Star up, pulling her in for a kiss as he guided her to the bed. A bed draped in black silk with an upholstered leather headboard. Stack sat down with Star in his lap. Heads swiveling, tongues delving deep, Star moved a hand to Stack’s dick from behind, more than ready to feel him inside her. Stack licked and sucked on her nipples while she stroked him.

He moaned and groaned.

Star…

She guided him to her sweet center, and Stack inched his way inside with both hands on her ass cheeks to keep her positioned. Deep in her juicy walls he thrusted.

Star gasped.

Juices trickled between her legs. Stack kept a steady pace. He watched her. Never took his eyes off of her. Star threw her head back, moaning with his moans.

“Uhnnn…” Star moans.

“Mmmhhhhh…” Stack moans.

He picked up speed, powerful and intense with each pounding stroke, rhythm far from timid. He knew exactly how to please her, he had no problem handling Star. He lifted Star up and down on his dick.

Deeper…Deeper…

His brown eyes unexpectedly changed from that smooth cognac brown to a blazing rouge. Star locked eyes with him, mesmerized by the fire in them. Suddenly, her body stiffened completely and her arms dropped limply to her sides.

Her heart raced…she couldn’t move. She was putty in his hands as he drilled from underneath. Thick fingers reached up to caress the side of her face with his fingertips, turning her head slightly to the right and placing his lips on her neck.

The blood pumped through her veins against his full lips.

What was supposed to be a sensual nibble evolved into something else…something sinister as he pierced her skin—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Star stirred awake in the bed Stack left her in. The thin, stark white sheets were tangled around her body as she rolled over to silence the alarm clock on an end table. She felt hot all over and her pulse quickened.

Not just the pulse against the right side of her neck, but the pulse between her legs.

She had to catch her breath. Sweaty and sore, Star couldn’t begin to understand why that dream felt so real.

Chocolate is…S.CRUNCH.OUS!

Star jumped, blinked her eyes, wiping them to focus. She squinted at the TV, a Nestle Crunch commercial on. It was so loud she had to scramble out of bed to search for the remote.

The arm chair.

Star froze.

“Stack?” She called out.

Silence echoed back at her. Star unwrapped herself, revealing curves and soft brown skin. Her hair was all over her head and the aftershock of a repeated orgasm left her muscles aching. She found the remote, snatching it before aiming it at the TV. She muted it with a hard press of a button before getting rid of the remote.

Her eyes fell upon the alarm clock.

1:32 pm

“Shit–”

Star rushed, pacing back and forth as she got dressed. She went without her stockings, ripped to shreds because of Stack.

Knock knock knock

Star froze.

“Is Star in there?”

Star tip toes to the door. She peered through the peep hole, staring at a beautiful woman that looked like she could be featured in play magazine. Petite, Jerry curl, hot shorts on.

“Who are you?” Star asked.

“I’m Ivory. I work at Vaisseau…came over to see if you were hungry. Stack’s busy handling things at the bar and he won’t be back til’ sun down.”

Cora.

“Would you happen to know where my friend, Cora is?”

Ivory went quiet for a few seconds.

“Cora is with Legend. Saw them leave last night in his truck.”

Star rolled her eyes.

“Well,” Star threw her hands up, “I guess I’ll grab a bite. Seeing as I can’t leave without my friend.”

“Of course! There’s a diner next door. Food is real tasty! Don’t worry about the bill, Stack’s got it covered.”

“I could use a change of clothes and something to freshen up with while you’re at it,” Star examined her maroon–painted nails, “Please and thank you.” She added for good measure.

“Of course! I’ll have that for you in your room. House keeping will clean up while you’re out.”

Star raised a curious brow.

So, did they also own the motel?

“Great…”

Ivory gave an awkward nod at the door before turning to leave, swaying her hips with each step, perky booty cheeks peeking out from beneath her daisy dukes.

“Fucking, Cora,” Star fussed, “Bitch didn’t even have the decency to let me know.”

Cora eyed the cord phone in the room. She walked over to it, picking it up before slipping a slender finger into the ring of the dial, spinning it to contact the front desk.

It rang three times before it picked up.

“Front desk,” A jaded male voice spoke.

“Hi…was wondering if you knew a Cora Livingston? She’s staying here. Not sure which room…”

“Hold on a sec…”

Star tapped her foot impatiently. Her stomach rumbled.

“Ah! Miss Livingston. She’s staying in 210 but—”

“Thank you!”

Star slammed the phone down on the receiver before zipping up her sexy red boots and grabbing her cheetah printed hand bag. Before she left, she spotted the keys on the table where Stack had left it. Star retrieved them and left the room.

The Arizona heat slapped her in the face the minute she stepped foot outside. Star began walking towards a flight of stairs leading up to the second level. She scanned the parking lot, not recognizing Cora’s black corvette amongst the other vehicles. The corners of her face frowned, Star opened her hand bag to grab a pair of cat eye sunglasses in all black with a rhinestone trim. Grabbing onto the iron railing, Star climbed with a click–clack of her boots.

Room 210 was right before her eyes.

Star walked with a determined strut towards the door, hips switching and ass bouncing beneath her mini, halter dress.

Star raised a fist.

Knock knock knock

No response.

Star raised two fists.

Knock knock knock

“The fuck?”

She bent over to try and peek into the room. She couldn’t see much of anything.

Groaning, Star made her way back to the stairs. As she climbed down, she began to worry about Cora. Sure, she can take care of herself, but Star knows first hand what it’s like to lose friends in a horrific way.

Kidnapping.

Murder.

One of the reasons she left Vegas is because of a serial killer preying on young women, especially street walkers, exotic dancers, and porn stars. They still hadn’t caught the guy.

Star wrung her hands, glancing left and right along Devil’s Highway.

The diner with its welcoming high rise sign and fifty’s retro design was a beacon for her. Star traveled across the parking lot and pushed her way through the revolving doors.

“Hi! Welcome to Suga’s! Just you, honey?”

A black woman a little over sixty years old with short salt and pepper hair greeted her. She held a stack of menus against her thick hip. A pastel pink work dress with buttons in the front hugged her motherly curves and a half apron stretched across her waist, stained with food and condiments.

The diner wasn’t packed, a few patrons here and there. It did smell savory from the grill and sugary from the malt shakes being blended. Star gave the woman—from what it looked like on her name badge goes by Doris—a sweet smile. She took off her sunglasses, the corners of her eyes crinkled from smiling.

“Just me. May I have a booth seat?”

“Absolutely! Follow me.”

Star walked behind Doris to a booth window seat. Star scooted in, accepting her menu with a soft ‘thank you’.

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have a water with lemon…and…fuck it, a chocolate malt with whipped cream and a cherry on top.”

“I’ll put that in for you.”

Doris walked away humming Cheryl Lynn Encore.

Star tapped her almond–shaped nails against the laminated menu.

A western omelette with home fries and bacon sounded delicious.

After five minutes, Doris returned with her drinks. Star placed her order, and after Doris scribbled everything down on a notepad, Star reached out to stop her with a gentle hand.

“Um, the tab is covered, right? I was told by a woman named Ivory that I didn’t have to worry about paying? I got cash if it’s a problem.”

Doris pondered for about three seconds before recognition dawned her eyes.

“Yes! Oh, yes. Ivory mentioned something like that to the boss. No worries, honey.”

“Thank you.”

Star drank her water down quickly before sampling her shake.

It was delicious.

She twirled her straw around, wondering what type of connections a roadside bar would have with a motel and a diner?

Maybe they run an illegal drug trade?

No other explanation. Hard to believe a bunch of black folk can own anything without it being a fight. That’s when Star’s mind finally drifted to Stack.

Her one night stand.

He’s a good friend and partner. When he likes you, he tends to throw money at you. Flashy brother. Slick talk. But he mean business…

Is Stack the brains of the operation? He rides a motorcycle, and Star caught a glimpse of other motorcycles parked along the side of Vaeisseau.

Outlaw motorcycle gangs (OMGs) are considered dangerous due to their involvement in various criminal activities and violent behavior. And a lot of those gangs frequent the Arizona desert. Route 666 in general. Star didn’t want to get mixed up with a criminal. She came to Arizona to make money off of good pussy, big tits, and an ass that can swallow a g-string.

But…that long thick tongue…

The way that dick fit in her mouth…

Star squirmed in her seat at the booth, the flashbacks causing her to blush into her hand.

“Here’s your meal, honey.”

The steam of freshly cooked food warmed Star’s cheeks. Full portions and all of it looked good.

“Thank you, Miss Doris.”

Star picked up her fork to sample some home fries.

Miss Doris lingered with a hesitant gaze. Star looked up at her, both brows raised and disappearing beyond her Farrah Fawcett bangs.

“Everything okay?” Star asked.

“Just–just wanted to mention,” Miss Doris placed a gentle hand against Star’s, “Be careful around here at night, honey. Too much bad stuff goes on. That bar…ain’t no place for you to be,” Miss Doris whispered that last part.

Star’s stomach dropped.

“Thanks for the advice, Miss Doris…”

Miss Doris nodded her head with a wary expression. She finally left Star alone to her thoughts again.

Stack doesn’t owe her any explanation. She probably will never see him again. He did leave her alone in his Motel room.

But Ivory said he’d be back.

No. Cora was going to drive her back into the city when she gets back. Nice knowing you, Stack.

Cora ate her meal, cleaning her plate completely. She excused herself to the restroom before returning to the motel room. Afterwards she left a tip on the table for Miss Doris, a fifty dollar bill. Star put her sunglasses back on and walked out.

She showed up to the motel and rummaged through her hand bag for the keys. Once back inside, Star noticed straight away that the room had been tidied up and on the bed rested a sexy little number with thigh high boots to match.

And was that…

Star walked over to the left side of the bed where she was sleeping and picked up a quad of cash held together by a ruby and diamond bracelet with a tiny ‘S’. She picked it up with alarming eyes.

All one hundred dollar bills.

Star situated herself in front of the dress.

She picked it up before placing herself in front of the mirror. Star pressed the dress against her torso, spreading it out to fit her curves. It was gorgeous.

A sexy halter mini dress with ruched detailing and backless in a foil gold color. The studded thigh high boots that was paired with it was a perfect match. On a table next to the arm chair was some toiletries and stuff for her hair.

Stack hooked her up. Like Star was his woman.

She’d play along for now. Since he likes to spoil you and give you money for just having a pretty face.

The freaks come out at night

Discos don't open 'till after dark

And it ain't 'till twelve 'till the party really starts

And I always had to be home by ten

Right before the fun was about to begin

Crowds of people lined up inside and out

Just one reason, to rock the house

But in the day time the streets was clear

You couldn't find a good freak anywhere, 'cause…

Star lit a cig while sipping from a bottle of wine in her motel room. She spent the rest of the afternoon exploring where she could, she even found a nail salon to get a fresh mani and pedi. Now, she had her nails and toes painted a metallic gold.

She giggled at the aerobic exercise segment on TV. Whoever this white girl thought she was, she sure wasn’t that. Speaking of, Star had a class to attend herself in a couple of days. She was wearing the dress Stack got her and the thigh high boots with a three–inch heel.

Knock knock knock

Star ashes out her cigarette before placing the bottle of red wine on the end table next to her. She got up and rushed over to the door. Peering out, she spotted Cora with her hands on her hips and staring right at her through the peep hole like she knew she would be there.

She was wearing a skin–tight, black leather dress with a bunch of studs, knee–high, black stockings with a lace trim, and black stilettos. A cropped mink coat covered her arms but left her cleavage on display sitting high and oiled up twinkling like she’d been doused in glitter. Her hair was pinned up in a half–Mohawk style and she wore one dangling earring with the other sporting a black diamond stud.

Star’s brown eyes with lids smoky from her eyeshadow rolled heavenward.

She opened the door and jutted her hip out.

“Where the fuck you been at, Cora?”

Cora smiled wide, “Well hello to you too, Star. Missed me?”

“I outta ring your neck! Not a word from you all day! Had me worried sick!” Star argued.

“So, you did miss me? Well, let me on in girl so I can tell you how my night went with legend.”

Star didn’t make a move to let her in. Cora bat her false lashes with a pout of her bottom lip.

“Okay, I’m sorry, girl. I should’ve called you to check in. Legend had me stuck between a bed and him, you know how that is!”

“…fuck it, come in, bitch.”

Star gleamed, “Thank you, kindly, hoe.”

Star shut the door to the motel room.

“Fuck you.” Star shot a death glare at Cora.

Cora laughed, “Oh, you already did that…wine!”

Cora snatched up the bottle, helping herself to some.

“So, let me tell you about legend—”

“When we leaving, Cora?”

Cora sighed with a roll of her eyes, “Tomorrow, girl! Stack wants to see you again.”

“Stack throwing gifts and money my way but had me waiting around like I’m on his time.” Star complained.

Cora flopped down on the bed next to Star. She stroked her friend’s cheek that was covered in pink blush.

“Stack really likes you, Cora. Said he can’t wait to see you again. He real sorry for leaving the way he did. Duty calls, ya’ know?”

Star cut her eyes at Cora, “I don’t actually. What he do for work?”

“He works in entertainment. Mostly down south. A little in New York. That’s all I know.”

“He a drug dealer?” Star cut to the quick.

Cora laughed blissfully. Star shoved her friend away.

“What makes you think that? Star!”

Cora grabbed onto Star’s wrist firm. Star spun back around, poking her hip out with a fold of her arms.

“He got me feeling all giddy and I don’t get like this over a one time fling. We gotta get back in the city before I lose my fucking mind over a big dick and good head.” Star confessed.

“When was the last time you had good dick and head, Star? And porn ain’t nothing but for show! Them white men with big ol’ porn staches and baby dicks don’t do a damn thing for you! Why you think you came to Arizona for girl on girl work? Listen,” Cora stroked Star’s arms, “I know you wanna go to Malibu…but maybe you should consider Georgia…”

Star studied Cora.

“Better opportunities for black folk in the porn industry. I can hook you up!”

“…for real?”

“Yeah!” Cora exclaimed, “You know I’m gonna hook my girl up!”

Star threw a mini temper tantrum.

“I’ll consider. But I go where the money flows, Cora.”

“I hear that,” Cora tilted her head and gave Star a kiss on the cheek, “Let’s have a look around before we head over to Vaisseau!”

Star grabbed her hand bag quickly before Cora could pull her out of the room. They jogged towards her black corvette and they both hopped in.

Whodini Freaks Come Out At Night played from the radio as they made their way towards pleasure paradise. A high concentration of vices and activities that are considered sinful by some.

Star’s thighs and hips were on fire. She shifted in the passenger seat, a cramp shooting up her left leg. Cora noticed, a teasing smile on her lips. She caught the glimmer of Star’s ruby and diamond bracelet that Stack left for her.

“Your bracelet’s real pretty.” Cora says.

Star admired it.

“This probably cost more than my rent.”

“It’s beautiful, Star. Stack wants you real bad.”

Star twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

“He didn’t fuck me last night…he tucked me in…like a gentleman.”

“He wants to savor you. Clearly.” Cora responded.

“What about you and Legend?”

“We go way back,” Cora beamed, “Deep history. The only man I let touch me. Too bad we can’t be together all the time.”

Star grabbed her palm palette, opening it so she could apply some more of her brown, shimmery lipstick. She popped her lips a few times to make sure it was evenly spread before snapping the palm palette closed.

“Why not?” Star asked.

“I travel a lot. He gotta keep an eye on the bar…”

Cora rolled into a parking lot outside of a sex shop.

Let’s go have a look around. I may want to grab something as a souvenir before we leave.”

Leaving the car, they made their way towards the sex shop and Cora opened the door. Star giggled at a cardboard cut–out of herself in the display window.

The 80s became revolutionary for the history of sex toys. This era brought adult stores, where the public could easily enter in to buy whatever delight tickled their fancy. It was colorful library with aisles and shelves filled with all things sex. Videos, dirty magazines, kink, blow up dolls, sexy toys for him and her, and advertisements for new products like performance enhancers for instance.

Star felt right at home. She picked up VHS tapes featuring her, play magazines that she flipped through, posters of her naked body folded between the pages. Cora dragged Star towards the section filled with lingerie. They searched wracks filled with baby dolls, chemise’, thongs, crotchless panties, and lacy bras that made your girls sit up high.

A worker was busy stocking a shelf with Hitachi Magic Wands until he noticed Star. A tall, lanky white male with long, red hair and a freckled face. He wore a Guns and Roses T-shirt with Levi’s jeans. Star gave him a flirty wave and a wink.

He dropped a box on the ground, so infatuated by her being there.

“C–Can I please take a picture?”

“Sure,” Star replied.

He was delighted, pale cheeks rose red from blushing. He pointed towards a Photo Booth and Star followed him inside. He kept his hands planted in his lap. His eyes gawked at her cleavage oiled up like buttery, hot rolls fresh out of the oven. He started the photo booth, placing a dime in the coin slot. Star began posing, pouting her lips or parting them slightly. She gave siren energy with her sleepy eyes and beguiling energy.

The photos dispensed and Star picked them up. She was ready to get out of that booth, the man was breathing hot air towards her direction. Breath smelling like pork skins.

“Got a pen?”

He shoved his hand into his back pocket, a yo–yo, ten dollar bill, and keys resurfacing.

“Shit—sorry, I left it at the front.”

“It’s okay. At least you have proof.”

Star slid out of the Photo Booth and found Cora waiting for her. She had a few things in her hand that she was ready to purchase. Cora held up a hot pink lingerie set that she thought Cora would love.

“Too vibrant. Maybe this one?”

Cora looked it over, tapping her chin. It was the exact same one but an emerald green.

“I love it.”

They made their way towards the front and as they did, Star got the feeling someone was watching her…

And funny enough, Rockwell was playing over the speakers.

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me

And I have no privacy (Oh-oh-oh)

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me

Tell me, is it just a dream?

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me (Hee-hee-hee)

And I have no privacy (Oh-oh-oh-oh)

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me

Who's playing tricks on me? (Who's watching?)

Cora gripped Star’s hand firm. She positioned herself protectively in front of Star, staring ahead, eyes sharp.

“What is it?” Star asked with concern.

“Let’s pay for this shit and head over to Vaisseau.” Cora replied abruptly.

Star scanned the front of the store, eyes sweeping across the windows. She didn’t see anything, but she felt it. And for some reason, a voice in her head told her to be careful.

Not Miss Doris’ voice. A chilling voice of a man.

Star…be safe…watch your surroundings…stick close to Cora…

Someone or something was definitely watching her.

And they were coming to kill.

@eggnox @blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @slut4smokemoore09 @readingaddict1290 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @theethighpriestess @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @girlsneedlovingfanfics @cancerianprincess @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @dashhoney25 @pinkprincessluminary @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #elias stack #stack smut #elias stack moore #stack sinners #elias smokes x black!oc #stack x reader #stack #sinnersfanfiction #sinners smut #sinners 2025 #sinners

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chvoswxtch · 4 months ago

Text

the head of the snake

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt murdock comes home to a stranger in his apartment.

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug & human trafficking

word count: 2.3k

a/n: ahhhh happy born again day to all who celebrate!!! i'm so fucking excited to finally put this out. i'm so excited that so many of y'all are so excited. I hope y'all love this as much as I do. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[next chapter] | [series masterlist]

The unfamiliar heartbeat was calm. The rhythm was steady. The lungs expanded and collapsed in relaxed intervals. The blood was in no rush to pump through the highways of veins and vessels that branched throughout the body. For a split second, Matt almost thought the stranger that was in his apartment sitting on his couch might be asleep, but their heartbeat wasn’t nearly slow enough to be unconscious.

Matt had been standing outside the front door of his loft, which was locked, for several minutes. His head was cocked slightly to the side as he focused his heightened senses on the foreign presence in his home. All Matt could decipher was that it was a woman, and not one he’d ever encountered before. There was nothing about her that sparked recognition in his brain. He had no idea who she was, or how she’d managed to get inside.

Slipping his key into the lock as silently as possible, he twisted it to the left until there was a faint click, and as he turned the knob and pushed the door open, he braced himself for whatever, and whoever, was waiting for him.

His steps were calculated and careful, avoiding the worn wooden floorboards that creaked under even the slightest pressure of weight. He kept his back flat against the half wall that separated the entryway from the kitchen, stopping a few inches before it ended and made his presence visible in the open layout. He had the advantage that his couch faced his bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment, which meant her back was to him.

She hadn’t budged at all, her heart rate remained steady, and she sat comfortably with her legs crossed. Her head was tilted slightly towards the right, presumably looking out the two large paned windows that interrupted the aged rows of rust colored brick.

Keeping his footsteps silent, he slowly stalked towards her like a predator advancing on prey. Just as the toe of his shoe reached the edge of the area rug, she suddenly spoke up.

“You’re home early. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so.”

Matt immediately froze, his right knee slightly bent in a halted half step forward. He hadn’t made a single sound, and he hadn’t picked up on any indication that she even knew he was there.

“Who the hell are you?”

There was a faint twitch at the edges of her lips. Amusement. He could hear it in her voice when she spoke again.

“You know, for a blind man, you’re very perceptive. But then again, you aren’t just any blind man, are you Matthew?”

The way she said his name was almost taunting, emphasizing the fact that she knew it, just like she knew where he lived, and apparently how to break into his apartment. As she subtly turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, he straightened up, squaring his shoulders as he clenched his jaw.

“Answer the question.”

She took her time as she stood up, smoothing her dress down with her hands, casually walking around the edge of the couch to face him. Matt clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his body tense as his heightened senses worked overtime to decipher if this woman was a threat. She stopped a few feet away, and he could feel her eyes on him, looking him up and down. He detected the faintest of a smirk at the edge of her mouth and the quirk of her left brow.

“Are you always this welcoming to your guests?”

Matt wasn’t used to not having the upperhand. It was unfamiliar territory, and he didn’t like it. Trying to tip the power dynamic in his favor, one that he was still figuring out, he took two bold steps towards her.

“Guest implies an invitation.”

There wasn’t a trace of fear, or even apprehension in her body when he advanced towards her. Instead, she let out a deep exhale through her nose and folded her arms over her chest.

“Fine. Since you’re not in the mood for small talk, I’ll skip the bullshit and cut to the chase. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Matt’s defensive stance faltered slightly, puzzlement creasing between his dark brows as he cocked his head to the side subtly.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. We’re a-”

“I know what S.H.I.E.L.D. is.”

Matt countered, cutting her off, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. He knew exactly what the organization was and what they did. What he didn’t know was what the hell that had to do with him.

“Then why did you ask with that stupid look on your face?”

Matt pursed his lips in a firm line at her quick rebuttal. Everytime he tried to seize dominance over this new unfamiliar dynamic, the scales of power shifted in her favor. It was grating on his nerves in a way that had his skin feeling several degrees warmer and his suit jacket suddenly heavy and unbearable.

Beginning to shrug the jacket off his broad shoulders, he carelessly tossed it forward in frustration, landing perfectly over the back of the couch, a movement that did not go unnoticed by her.

“And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. want with me?”

“What, you think we don’t have a department dedicated to you street level people?”

In the midst of rolling his left sleeve up to his forearm, Matt abruptly froze, two of his fingers still tucked under the crisp fabric of his dress shirt and his thumb hovering over the folded fabric. The way she said it was so casual, but there was an undertone of implication, something extremely subtle but consequently unnerving.

She couldn’t possibly know.

Matt decided to do what he normally did in the courtroom when trying to get the other side to reveal their hand; he called her bluff.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She let out a deep exhale of disappointment through her nose, giving him a pointed look.

“I thought we agreed to skip the bullshit.”

Everything about this woman Matt found exceedingly infuriating. Here she was, standing in the middle of his apartment, that she’d broken into, calmly dangling the idea over his head that she seemed to know exactly who he really was. If she did know, which Matt didn’t know how the hell she possibly could, that put the knowledge of his biggest secret in her hands, and it gave her a power over him he wasn’t ready to submit to. There was a feeling in his gut, like a sixth heightened sense, that whatever the reason was that this woman was actually here was about to alter his life in a big way.

Matt continued to roll the fabric up until it reached about an inch below his elbow, and he steeled his expression while he undid the button on the cuff of his right wrist and repeated the action of rolling up his other sleeve.

“What do you know?”

“Just assume I know everything.”

Letting out an aggravated exhale through his nose, Matt placed his hands on his hips and leaned his weight on his left foot, his fingers brushing over the leather of his belt.

“That is frustratingly vague.”

She could hear him growing more and more annoyed by the second, and see it on his face as well as in his body language. One of her brows lifted in amusement as the faintest of a smile graced the edge of her lips, and she tilted her head to the side in a gesture of faux confusion.

“Is it?”

The sound of bone grinding against bone as Matt grit his teeth in growing vexation made him twitch subtly in discomfort, the noise it caused like sharp nails being dragged across a chalkboard in slow motion in his own ears. He reached up to loosen his tie around his neck, yanking on the fabric like he was giving slack to a noose. He unbuttoned the small button of the collar with one hand, and the larger one beneath it, tugging the fabric away from his neck.

His indignation always seemed to turn into physical discomfort that made his clothes feel entirely too restricting and his skin too warm. The sweat that began to seep from his pores was like liquified anger trying to find a way out of his body when he wasn’t able to expel it with action.

“What do you want with me?”

“I don’t want you. They do. You weren’t exactly my first choice.”

The look of offense that flashed across his face almost pulled a genuine laugh out of her, but she kept her expression neutral, even though he could feel the way her lips twitched in amusement again. She turned to retrieve something from her purse and then took a step forward, holding it out towards Matt.

“Here.”

His curiosity piqued, Matt extended his hand, his fingers brushing over the smooth cardstock of a thick file that he grasped in his hand.

“What’s this?”

“A folder.”

Matt shot her a displeased look, his lips pursed as his fingers brushed over what felt like an embossed symbol in the middle.

“I meant what’s inside, smartass.”

“Paper.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Matt muttered under his breath, which did earn a real smile from her as her brows raised in surprise.

“Wow, your file said you were Catholic. Then again, I suppose taking the Lord’s name in vain isn’t the worst thing you do on a daily basis.”

“I’ll add it to the list for confession.”

Matt retorted dryly, cracking open the file as his fingers began to trace back and forth over the documents. Each section had a tab with a label that was also in Braille. If he wasn’t so annoyed, he would’ve been impressed by how meticulously organized the file was, and how accessible. A faint furrow creased the middle of his forehead as he read the contents inside.

It was a detailed file on a local Russian gang here in New York that Matt had been investigating for months now. It wasn’t the mafia that had worked for Fisk. Those brothers were a daydream compared to this new organization he’d been trying to take down. The Russian mafia’s primary focus had been drug trade, but the Krasnaya Pravaya Ruka’s operation was far more sinister.

A few months ago, a new player had seemingly seized control over the other crime organizations almost over night. With Fisk out of the way, the throne had been open for the taking, and while there weren’t many organizations left after The Punisher had wiped out the top three gangs in the city and Matt had disbanded Fisk’s entire operation in one way or another, there were still a few left fighting for power. But in the midst of the chaos, someone had stepped in, and they seemed to cast an even bigger shadow than Fisk ever did.

Matt had been tirelessly working his way through low level thugs dealing on the streets. The leader was smart, and clearly had the resources to operate efficiently enough to move millions of dollars worth of product around and the stealth to do it silently in the shadows. The drug dealers on the corners were just pawns, convenient pieces to move around to distract from the rest of the board. It took four whole months before Matt discovered what the real product was.

People.

The drugs were just a front for the human trafficking ring that had formed right here under his nose in the city. They were smoke and mirrors to distract local law enforcement, leading them down a never ending wild goose chase of one expendable dealer after another that had no real connection to each other. It left the NYPD, and Matt, consistently at dead ends. While they had been following the powder trail, humans were being imported and exported like mere livestock in cargo at the docks.

“Pier Nineteen. Saturday night, eleven-thirty. Bring your little red number.”

As she grabbed her purse and slipped it over her shoulder, turning to head towards the door, Matt’s expression twisted up in puzzlement and irritation. His hand swiftly darted out to grab her wrist, not hard enough to be aggressive, but firm enough to halt her in place.

“Whoa whoa whoa, I’m not going anywhere with you, not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

She’d stiffened when he grabbed her, and he heard her heart rate rise slightly, but not in fear. Her free hand subtly closed in a half clasped fist, a defensive motion that didn’t go unnoticed by Matt.

“If I give you a hint, are you gonna quit pouting?”

Matt’s lips quickly pursed in annoyance as he grit his teeth again. He let go of her wrist and let out another frustrated exhale through his nose.

“I’m not-”

“That trafficking ring you’re trying to single handedly take down? You’ve barely scratched the fucking surface. You want the head of the snake or what?”

tags: @the-swift-escape @lambmurdock @lunakkey @lfdybadgirlsdoitw @devilmurdock64 @moonyinthestars @suits-and-smirks @day-dreaming-goddess @natashasotherhalf @rebel13lion39 @pixelfaery @ebsmind

the devil and the widow soundtrack

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#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock series #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil series #the devil and the widow series #tdatw

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andy-15-07 · 3 days ago

Note

May I ask for some mechanic Joel, old Joel, grumpy, pervert Joel haha, reader is trying to change a tire in the middle of the road, her skirt is so short that she is showing her bare pussy, no panties, and then Joel sees her and he doesn’t even hide his desire, maybe some rough sex, spanks, pussy spanks, pet names, Joel has a tummy, big age gap. Thank you

That Ain’t No Way To Ask for Help, Sweetheart

PAIRING:Mechanic!Joel Miller x Younger!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1213 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist II

Your hands were greasy, your nails chipped, and your patience was hanging by a single frayed thread. You didn’t know what possessed you to wear a skirt this short on a day you’d be driving on a dusty back road out of town , but here you were, crouched over your rear tire, sweat beading on your thighs, lips pursed in frustration. The damn tire iron wouldn’t budge.

And you were alone. Or… you thought you were.

The low purr of a truck engine came up behind you, slow and growling. You didn’t bother to turn , not until it stopped right beside you, and the creak of an old door opened behind the roar of cicadas and your annoyed breathing.

Then: a whistle.

Low. Appreciative. Dirty.

“Well I’ll be damned.”

You turned and met the eyes of a man leaning one hand on the truck door , tan skin, salt-and-pepper curls under a worn cap, lines carved into his face like he’d seen more than one war. He looked at you like he just walked in on a free show. His gaze went straight to your thighs.

Your heart skipped.

Joel Miller. The mechanic from down by the auto yard. You’d seen him a couple times , always covered in oil and sweat, thick hands and a grumble for a voice. Easily old enough to be your dad. Or… older.

“I-I got it,” you stammered, reaching for the iron again.

He didn’t answer. Just rounded the hood of his truck and came to crouch beside you, thick arms resting on his knees.

“Not wearin’ nothin’ under that pretty skirt, huh?” he asked, eyes glued to the spot between your thighs. “Jesus Christ, girl.”

Your breath hitched. You should’ve squeezed your legs shut , but you didn’t. Some twisted part of you liked how he looked at you. Like he could devour you whole.

“Didn’t think I’d be on my knees today,” you muttered.

Joel chuckled low, voice like smoke and whiskey. “Then you sure dressed for attention.”

You felt your skin heat. But you didn’t move.

“Flat tire?” he asked, glancing at the useless jack.

“Yeah. I tried. Can’t get the bolts off.”

Joel stood up with a grunt, his belly shifting under his stained t-shirt. He pulled a rag from his pocket, wiped his hands , and tossed it back with a nod toward your car.

“Get in the truck.”

“What?”

He licked his thumb, wiped a smear of grease from your cheek.

“You heard me. You look like you need a real man’s help.” Then, with a smirk, “And I ain’t changin’ no tire ‘til you’re sittin’ pretty for me, sweetheart.”

Your thighs clenched involuntarily.

You slipped into the passenger side of his truck. The seat was hot from the sun, the interior smelled like sweat, gasoline, and pine. Joel’s scent. He climbed in beside you after a moment, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“So what is this?” you asked, crossing your legs slowly, teasing. “You get off on rescuing dumb girls by the highway?”

He laughed once. “Not dumb. Just naughty.”

He reached over. One large, calloused hand ran up your thigh, rough from years of work. His palm was hot, greedy.

“No panties?” he asked again. “Walked outta the house wantin’ someone to see, didn’t ya?”

You bit your lip. “Maybe.”

Joel exhaled through his nose , like you’d tested the last of his patience.

His hand shot up and cupped your bare pussy, rough fingers dragging through your folds. You gasped, hips lifting.

“Slick already. You like bein’ caught like this, huh?” He leaned in, voice thick. “You’re just a needy little slut.”

You whined when he slapped it , not too hard, but enough to make your skin sting and your legs jerk.

“Ah, Joel.”

“‘Sir.’ That’s what you call me.”

You swallowed. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He did it again. A sharp slap right across your pussy lips. You twitched.

“Good girl.”

Joel leaned in, tongue licking a stripe up your neck. “Bet no boy your age knows how to treat a brat like you.”

You shook your head. He was right.

Joel yanked you across the bench seat. His belly pressed against your hip as he pulled your legs over his lap, his thick jeans rubbing your sensitive skin. He looked massive up close , broad arms, hands like leather, thick thighs, and a soft stomach that jiggled when he moved.

He hiked your skirt higher. You were already soaked.

“Need it rough, don’t you, baby?” he whispered. “Need an old man to knock the brat outta you.”

You didn’t answer. So he spanked your pussy again. Harder.

“Y-Yes!”

“Yeah you do.”

He pushed two fingers inside you , no warning, no teasing , and you cried out as your walls clamped around him.

“Fuck, you’re tight. This little cunt’s fuckin’ beggin’.”

His fingers curled just right, knuckles grinding your clit. You sobbed into his shoulder, clutching his shirt. The soft curve of his belly rocked against your leg with each thrust.

Joel kissed your jaw, then bit your earlobe.

“You gonna come just from my fingers, sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically.

He laughed darkly, pulling out.

“Too bad.”

You whined at the loss.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Face down. Ass up on the seat.”

You obeyed.

The truck door slammed open for air as Joel dropped his jeans , and you barely caught a glimpse of his thick cock before he was pushing the head right between your folds.

“Gonna fuck you so dumb, you’ll forget what a jack looks like.”

And then he was inside , one long, slow thrust that had you arching, your hands scrambling against the vinyl seat for grip.

Joel groaned like a man starved. “Jesus Christ, this pussy.”

He set a brutal rhythm, thick hips slapping against your ass. Each thrust shoved you forward into the seat, making you whimper with every slap of skin. His hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back.

“Who do you belong to now, baby?”

“You, sir!”

He spanked your ass , then your pussy again , then grabbed your hips tight enough to bruise.

“That’s right. Just an old man’s fucktoy now, huh?”

You couldn’t speak. You could barely think. The only thing that existed was his cock stretching you wide, the smack of his belly against your skin, and the heat building between your legs.

Joel grunted, pulling you flush against him.

“Come on this cock, baby. Let daddy feel it.”

You came with a scream , clenching around him, shaking, drooling onto the seat. Joel didn’t stop. He chased his own release with ruthless strokes.

“Fuck. Gonna fill this little pussy,” he growled.

He spilled inside you with a groan, thick spurts of cum painting your walls. You moaned as the heat spread inside.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then Joel smacked your ass gently.

“Still think you don’t need help, darlin’?”

You giggled, voice wrecked. “Guess I should break down more often.”

Joel zipped up, smirked, and climbed out of the truck.

“Gimme five minutes. Tire’ll be fixed. And then I’m takin’ you home.”

“Why?”

He looked over his shoulder.

“So I can fuck you again. On somethin’ softer than a truck seat.”

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secretlyazombi3 · 3 months ago

Text

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer .ᐟ₊˚⊹♡

leon kennedy x afab! reader

๋࣭ ⭑⚝word count: 2.2k ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ NSFW, 2nd person, some fluff obvi ^_^, established relationship, re2r leon, subby leon kinda, unprotected (pls don't do that), riding, oral (m receiving)

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ summary: You stop by to visit your boyfriend in his cop car during one of his nightshift patrols :3

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: uhhh i normally dont write stuff like this bc its not my thing, but oh my god my period has me FERAL man its not funny 😭😭 not proof read im too lazy ! also how do ppl write this without giggling lmao

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” Leon said as he rolled the window down as you patiently stood outside his police car.

“You’re so jumpy.” you replied as Leon glanced around the parking lot anxiously. You knew Leon’s habits, you knew he always stopped at this gas station near your apartment before a night shift. “It’s midnight, forgive me for not expecting someone to knock on my car window.” Leon mumbled as he looked back at you.

You wrapped your hand around the door handle and pulled it open, not caring to ask for an invitation into Leon’s car. He was your boyfriend after all, so why bother asking. “Hey, you can’t just-” Leon stuttered as you entered his car and sat down in the passenger’s seat suddenly.

Leon glanced around the parking lot again. “You-you can’t just jump in my car like that, I’m at work, I’m on duty… It’s unprofessional.” Leon stuttered out.

You looked out the car window and analyzed the gas station parking lot - it was empty, obviously, there was clearly not much demand to get gas at such late hours.

“Nobody saw me get in, you’re fine.” You told Leon as you turned your head back to gaze at him.

“I’m still on duty! I can’t let just anyone come in my car, I.. I need to focus on patrolling.” Leon protested. “Well, I’m not ‘just anyone’, am I?” you replied, batting your eyes at Leon and giving him big puppy eyes you knew he couldn’t resist.

Leon didn’t reply, simply staring at you, hesitating before beginning to drive the car out of the parking lot.

“You’re so stubborn,” Leon mumbled as he drove away from the gas station. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“Only if we get caught. We just won’t get caught.” you replied as you looked out the window.

Leon mumbled something incoherently, he furrowed his eyebrows as he continued to drive down a nearby highway, still pretending to be upset at you for forcefully joining him for a ride.

“I just wanted to bring you some company, must be lonely driving all alone at night for hours.” you said quietly before you placed your hand on Leon’s thigh. Leon stopped mumbling and his expression reluctantly softened. He loved physical affection.

Truthfully, he did get lonely on his shifts. It was painfully boring to just drive around the highway, park on the side of the road and keep an eye out for anything suspicious or any speeding. He didn’t mind you being here with him, he truly needed the company or else he’d go insane one of these nights.

Leon pulled over onto the side of the road and parked where he normally parked when he patrolled this highway specifically. It was dark out and a pretty lifeless side of town, there were barely any cars driving down the road. The streetlight Leon parked under was old and the light flickered every so often.

“You just do this all night? Sit in your car all alone?” You asked Leon, sounding a bit shocked.

Leon shyly nodded and shrugged. “I mean, yeah…”.

“I should really come visit you more often, then. You must be so bored.” you replied.

“I-I can’t just hang out with you on my job.” “It’s not like you’re doing anything urgent. You just sit here all night. Nobody will know.” Your hand went up Leon’s thigh. “I can make your night more interesting, you know…” “Stop..!” Leon said, a twinge of whininess in his voice, clearly embarrassed. “That’s so unprofessional.” Leon added, his face turning a bit redder than normal as he desperately prayed you didn’t notice the twitching in his pants.

“You’re such a rule follower.” You replied as you finally pulled your hand off of Leon’s thigh.

Your gaze shifted from Leon to out the windshield. “The sky’s so pretty tonight.” you said as you looked up at the moon. It was a full moon tonight, the moon was resting in the sky just above where Leon had parked his police car.

“At least you get to look at the sky every night.” you spoke softly, glancing back over at Leon. Leon was gazing up at the stars for a few moments before turning his attention to you.

“It’s not as pretty as you.” he said quietly. You smiled - it was cheesy, but it was cute. Leon’s pink blushing face made it better.

“Shut up,” you replied as you noticed Leon leaning in a bit closer to you with a soft expression.

You sat there for a moment, analyzing Leon’s pretty face, memorizing each mole on him before you allowed yourself to be pulled in by him for a kiss.

You placed your hand on the side of Leon’s face as you kissed and used your other hand to take off your seatbelt so you could lean further into the kiss without being restrained.

Leon pulled away for a second for air and quietly mumbled your name in a breathy voice. His hand rested on your cheek, he gently rubbed his thumb against your skin. “You’re so pretty, so fucking pretty…” he whispered gently to you.

You glanced down and finally noticed the bulge in Leon’s pants. “Oh, Leon..” you whispered.

Leon looked away, seemingly embarrassed that he’d gotten hard over nothing, over a simple kiss. “It’s nothing.” he mumbled.

“No, baby, let me help you.” You insisted as your hand moved to his zipper, slowly unzipping his pants.

Leon was breathing a little harder as he watched you. “I-I shouldn’t be doing this.” he breathed as he felt you slowly slide down the fabric of his boxers, letting his hard cock free.

“It’s okay, baby, nobody’s on the road anyways.” you assured him as you moved your hand to gently rub him raw, which immediately made him tense up. You spat on his dick to lubricate it before continuing to stroke him, feeling him twitch against your palm.

“I guess so,” he replied.

“Is it okay if I…?” you asked as you eyed his cock. Leon bit his lip a little, getting more aroused seeing your pretty face so close to his cock. He nodded. “Mhm, yeah, go ahead.” he replied.

You parted your lips and wrapped them around the tip of his cock, which was glistening under the moonlight after he had begun to leak some precum. His face was flushed, he was embarrassed that he was so easy. One kiss was enough to give him a boner.

“Mph..” you moaned quietly, the sound slightly muffled by Leon’s dick being stuffed in your mouth, as you slowly began to lower your head.

“Ah, fuck..” Leon moaned as he leaned his head back, feeling you begin to take his cock deeper, feeling the tip prod at the back of your throat.

“So good, so good for me…” Leon whispered breathily as he gently brushed his fingers through your hair. He tried to keep himself calm and collected, he tried his hardest to keep himself under control but he just couldn’t.

He gently gripped on your hair and tugged it, pulling you down, forcing your head up and down. Leon grunted as he felt you swirling your tongue around his length as he continued to force you up and down, nearly choking on his dick.

Leon rolled his head back, turning into a whining and whimpering mess as you continued suckling on his dick. He couldn’t help but begin gently thrusting against your face, face fucking you.

He eventually managed to control himself and he stopped the movement of his hips. You rested for a moment, dick fully down your throat, your nose resting on his happy trail. Leon finally calmed himself down, still whimpering as he felt you remove your mouth from his cock.

“Baby, fuck..” Leon whimpered as he felt his cock, now wet from your saliva, touch the cold air of the cop car. You pulled Leon in for another kiss and began to rub him again. You flicked your thumb over his tip, which was dripping precum at this point. Leon could taste his skin on your tongue as you two kissed.

“Let me ride you.” you whispered between kisses as Leon whimpered from the pleasure of your hand around his length.

Leon nodded. “Do whatever you want to me…” he whispered. He leaned back in his seat, reclining it to give you some more room as you straddled him after slipping off your pants and your soaked panties.

“Leon..” You whispered as you rubbed his tip against your entrance. You slowly grind your hips down, you enjoyed watching Leon’s reaction as he slowly entered you. His mouth never closed, his lips stayed parted as he slowly pushed his cock inside you. “Ah- ah..! Fuck, you’re….you’re so fucking tight…” Leon moaned as he watched you begin to slowly move up and down, riding him slowly as he held your hips. Leon’s thighs were trembling at this point, he was overwhelmed with pleasure.

Leon slid his hands up your body, pushing your shirt and bra up so he could see your tits. Leon was completely infatuated with your body, you could tell by the look in his eyes.

He was still whimpering and moaning the entire time you rode him. Leon couldn’t help it, he was really noisy in bed, and he couldn’t help but moan like a whore every time his sensitive dick got the slightest friction.

Leon groped your chest after watching it bounce with each movement for a while, playing with your chest as you continued moving up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, Leon…” you breathed as you felt him rub his thumb against your nipple. You felt the tip of Leon’s dick slam against the spongy spot inside you that filled your body with pleasure. Leon clearly knew he’d found your spot by the way you gasped.

“That feel good there…?” Leon asked, looking up at you through his eyelashes, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to keep them open.

You desperately nodded as you felt Leon begin to thrust his hips upward, repeatedly slamming the head of his cock deep inside you, stimulating that spot. “Good boy…” you breathed before pulling Leon into another kiss. Being called that caused Leon to involuntarily thrust his hips harder into you. He loved being called that.

Your hands traveled up Leon’s shirt, you felt on Leon’s abs as Leon gasped for air between each and every kiss. He was clearly getting closer and closer. Leon glanced up at you once you pulled away from another kiss, watching you bounce on his cock as he rolled his head back again, this time letting his eyes shut as he continued whimpering.

“Baby,” Leon breathed as he continued thrusting his hips upward involuntarily. Leon gripped your hips tightly, digging his nails into your skin as he whimpered.

“..’m gonna come, gonna come…” Leon whined between breaths. “Shh, I got you,” You cooed in response, placing your hand on his cheek as he rested back. Leon moved his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a circular motion without you even needing to tell him.

“Fuck, good boy, such a good boy, Leon…” you breathed. Leon whimpered as he desperately thrusted his hips into you, pounding your pussy as you pulled him in for another kiss. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come…” Leon whined between kisses.

Leon wrapped his arm around you tightly as he came deep inside you, his cock twitching inside you as your walls suffocated him. You slid your tongue past Leon’s lips as you felt yourself reach your orgasm as Leon desperately rubbed your clit. You moaned desperately into the kiss as you came, hugging Leon tightly back.

You pulled away for air after the kiss. Leon was still a whimpering mess after coming. Leon’s eyes were still shut as he rested back, desperately gasping for air as if he’d been underwater for hours.

You slowly pulled yourself off of his lap, your pussy leaking his cum as you scrambled to put your panties back on, not wanting to leak cum all over the inside of his cop car.

Leon was a panting mess, his dick raw and sensitive after cumming. He was leaning back with his eyes clenched shut, his tongue involuntarily hanging out like a dog.

“Good puppy.” you whispered to Leon as you kissed his cheek.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Leon was resting against the window, sleeping peacefully until you poked his cheeks. “Leon.” you said softly, your tone slightly sing-songy as if you were trying to wake a toddler. The sun was beginning to rise in the distance.

“Huh…?” Leon mumbled sleepily, his eyes fluttering open and shut. “Come on officer, your shift ends soon.” you told Leon. Leon rubbed his eyes before glancing around.

“Shit, you’re right.” he replied as he pulled his seatbelt back on. He always got sleepy after cumming, he had been knocked out for hours now. His face was bright red, not only embarrassed that he’d fallen asleep but he was also thinking about what you two had done only a few hours earlier. “Can’t believe you fell asleep on the job Leon, that’s so unprofessional.” you teased him as he slowly drove back onto the highway.

“Shut up…” Leon mumbled shyly, avoiding your gaze.

#resident evil #fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #{¬ºཀ°}¬ z writes ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #fluff #one shot #smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut

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luvnoirs · 2 months ago

Text

WICKED GAMES

paring: paige x black fem!reader synopsis: after being drafted number one pick, paige is under pressure to prove herself and save a failing relationship. then, she sees you. warning(s): cheating (sorta kinda), angst, fingering, edging word count: 5.1k

a/n: i absolutely hate ts im only posting cause i promised my oomfs that i would post this tonight 😭 it’s supposed to be inspired by wicked games by the weeknd but i feel like i started losing the plot… also lets pretend that paige isn’t a lightweight cause i know her ass would be gone off the shots she took in this LMAOOO

PART ONE | PART TWO

paige wasn't quite sure how she ended up downtown in dallas. one second she was staring up at the ceiling in her silent apartment, the next she was behind the wheel driving down the highway. the city lights illuminated the road, blurring past almost as if she was running from something. but maybe she was.

she should've been in the gym, putting up shots until her arms gave out, trying to excuse the mess of a game she had last night. or maybe she should've been at home, working through the silence with her girlfriend— if you could even still call her that. it used to be sweet late-night texts and dinner dates. now it was just unanswered texts and empty kisses.

paige wasn't oblivious. she knew she hasn't been the easiest to love during her transition from college basketball to the league. but being a rookie meant pressure she couldn't explain and expectations that she was dying to reach. she was either too focused or not focused enough. too distant or too clingy.

a text lit up on her car screen as she rolled to a slow stop at the red light.

lys: yooo. you still pulling up?

paige let out a quiet breath, one hand on the wheel, the other raking through her hair. she didn’t even know why she said yes to nalyssa inviting her out tonight. maybe because it was easier than explaining why she didn’t feel like being around anyone.

she turned down a narrow side street and spotted the club her teammate had mentioned. its neon sign was buzzing, half the letters flickering on and off like they couldn’t commit either.

p: yeah im bout to park

she hit send without thinking, backing into one of the last open spots in the lot. the engine cut off and everything got quiet. too quiet.

she sat there for a second, staring out the windshield, watching a group of girls laugh their way out of an uber, heels clicking against the concrete. smiling like they didn't have the weight of a record-breaking season or a deteriorating relationship on their shoulders.

then paige opened the door and stepped out.

she kept her head down and eyes on the cracked pavement. she kept it moving until she reached the bouncer who stood outside the door.

the bouncer nodded his head, signaling for her to go ahead inside. it wasn't too crowded inside, so she was able to spot nalyssa near the back, already with a drink in her hand.

“took you long enough,” nalyssa called over the music, reaching for her hand.

paige shrugged, letting herself be pulled in. she wasn’t here to catch up or make friends.

she needed a drink.

and if she was being honest with herself— she probably needed to get laid.

but she shoved the thought down as she trailed behind nalyssa, weaving through bodies until they reached the section tucked near the back. vip, of course, but not too flashy. just enough to feel separate from the ongoing chaos.

everyone in the section was already settled in laughing, posted up with half-empty glasses, even a joint being passed between a few people. as nalyssa introduced her to the table, paige offered a lazy nod and a half-assed smile but didn’t stop moving until she dropped into the open seat beside the low table.

nalysssa settled next to dijonai, getting back into a previous conversation, but paige tuned them out.

instead, she reached for the closest shot without even knowing what was in it and drank it.

tequila.

she welcomed the burn in her chest.

a second shot followed, much smoother this time. the edges around her thoughts began to blur by the time she took a third one. one of nalyssa's friends, who she had fallen into an easy conversation with since she arrived nudged her hand in her face, offering the half-finished blunt. paige declined with a shake of her head.

"you good?" nalyssa cuts in as dijonai orders more drinks for the table. "over there looking all mean n'shit."

paige cracked a smile, the liquor finally starting to settle in her system. her shoulders were eased and her jaw was unclenched for the first time tonight. she wasn't drunk, just tipsy enough to relax. "i'm chillin'."

nalyssa gave her a look, half amused, half knowing. "didn't you say things were fucked up with you and your girl? i was wondering why you ain't bring her."

she leaned back, her eyes scanning the room instead as she responded passively.

"yeah, i'm not dealing with her bullshit tonight."

and truth was, part of paige did want to work it out with cassidy.

deep, deep down, the part that still lived off of the memories of them cuddled up on the bed watching the white lotus and the late-night sex still kept her hoping for a change.

but the other part? it was tired. tired of the bending and explanations. tired of feeling like she had to choose between being great and being enough for someone else.

cassidy never understood. she said she did, but her actions spoke otherwise. every time paige missed a call, came home late, or chose the gym over a dinner date, it became another argument.

you've changed.

you never make time for me anymore.

but maybe cassidy was the one who changed. she loved the idea of paige but not the reality of what it took to be her.

paige blinked, suddenly aware of the drink in her hand again. nalyssa was rambling on about the tough patch she and dijonai went through, trying to offer some advice. paige nodded here and there, more so focused on her own surroundings than her friend's words.

someone was dancing on the table across the room. another girl was crying in the corner, visibly arguing with a man who was too drunk to care. and as nalyssa made another comment, paige couldn't help but completely drown it out as she laid eyes on another woman who was walking past the table.

paige couldn't see her face. she didn't need to.

she walked with confidence and a sight sway to her hips, immediately captivating the blonde.

she wore a black lace dress that left little to the imagination. it was thin and sheer, clinging to her body like it was made for it. underneath, paige could see the outline of her black thong through the see-through floral lace, every detail intentional.

she walked to the section beside them with her back still facing paige as excitedly hugging a few people who were already seated as if she hadn't seen them in years. her dress fit around her curves deliciously and paige caught herself staring a bit too long at the woman's ass as she bent over.

nalyssa couldn't help but notice the lack of attention from paige at this point and she caught on immediately, following paige's gaze until her own eyes landed on the woman.

nalyssa leaned in, nudging paige's arm. "damn, paige. you all in her shit."

paige rolled her eyes as she reached for her glass again, trying to shake it off.

"shut up." paige took a sip of her drink, swallowing it down hard.

paige always considered herself a loyal person, especially when it came to romantic relationships. she didn’t entertain attention she didn’t plan to return.

but then again…

were she and cassidy even in a relationship anymore?

the last time they spoke face to face, it ended in a slammed door and another argument that started over nothing. cassidy stormed off after mentioning staying with her friends for a while. and that was five days ago. neither of them had called. neither of them had tried.

so what did that say?

but all that blurred the second she laid eyes on her, the woman now sitting just a few feet away like temptation itself dressed in all black lace.

her head tilted back mid-laugh, hand resting effortlessly at her waist, the other flicking a cascade of curls over her shoulder. even from the side, she looked unreal.

that small gesture exposed the curve of her neck, a sharp jawline, and a tattoo that started at the base of her neck and disappeared beneath thin black straps. she could make out some writing and a few flowers with leaves, and lines trailing down into the fabric.

she shifted in her seat, jaw tightening, trying not to stare, but failing miserably. she was definitely the most beautiful woman she's ever seen.

“listen, man,” nalyssa said, setting her drink down and turning to face paige fully. “i’m not tryna be the villain here, but let’s stop pretending. from everything you’ve been tellin’ me these past few weeks… you and cassidy ain’t had nothing going on for a minute.”

paige didn’t say anything. just stared down at the melting ice in her glass.

nalyssa kept going, softer now. “this is exactly why i dragged your stubborn ass out tonight. you need to stop holding on to something that’s not holding you back. cassidy doesn’t get it, and to be honest? i’m not even sure she’s trying to.”

paige sighed through her nose, the weight of it all pressing against her ribs. part of her wanted to argue and defend the pieces of the relationship that still felt familiar. but the words never came.

because nalyssa was right and that realization sat heavy in her chest.

“i just…” paige started. “i don’t know how to let go without feeling guilty.”

“nah,” nalyssa said quickly. “you're staying in something that ain’t feeding you and you need to let that shit go. don't feel guilty for choosing yourself for once."

paige leaned back, her hand rubbing over her face as she took in nalyssa's words, internalizing them.

she peeked over again, searching for the now familiar head of curls. she was still there. talking with another woman who held a phone to her face.

then, finally, the woman glanced over. almost as if something in the air had shifted, like she felt the weight of paige watching her.

her eyes landed on paige instantly and she felt it in her chest. her face was stunning in a way paige couldn't even describe.

her eyes were dark, almond-shaped, framed by baby doll lashes that fluttered softly.

her curls spilled down the sides of her face perfectly like they knew exactly where to fall. it framed her like a portrait in a gallery. like something you weren’t supposed to touch, only admire. the lights hit her just right, casting a warm glow over her skin. rich. soft. paige wondered what that skin would feel like under her fingertips.

paige didn't want to look away, but the woman had broke eye contact first.

she watched as the woman leaned over, saying a few words to the person next to her before she stood up, making her way toward the bar.

paige dragged her fingers across the rim of her glass, still watching.

then she stood up, slowly.

nalyssa raised an eyebrow. “oh shit.”

“i’m just saying hi,” paige said, but the smirk pulling at her lips betrayed her.

nalyssa leaned back with a knowing grin. “uh huh. you better hi the hell outta her.”

paige didn’t look back as she stepped out of their section.

—

“yo,” zoe leaned in and nudged your arm, eyes glinting with curiosity. “that white girl been starin’ at you all night.”

you raised an eyebrow, unfazed but intrigued. “who?”

zoe gave a slight tilt of her head, chin pointed toward the section next to yours.

you turned, eyes scanning the group who were all laughing and drinking, tucked comfortably into their booth. then her eyes locked onto her.

a blonde woman, legs slightly spread, sipping slowly from a glass like she had nowhere to be. she was talking to the light brown-haired girl next to her, nodding along, but her focus wasn’t all the way there. you could tell.

you eyed the white cropped jacket hugging her frame, the black fitted shirt underneath that exposed her abs. her hair was slicked back into a clean, low bun. the studs in her ears caught the glow from the club lights every time she shifted.

you wouldn't deny the fact that she was attractive, or your exact type. but you didn't come here tonight to get laid, so you turned away and towards zoe with a dismissive shrug.

yet, zoe was still squinting her eyes at her. "she don't look familiar to you?"

you shook her head before taking a sip of your drink. "nah, not really. but it's dallas, everybody know everybody here."

zoe clapped her hands together and pointed to you in sudden realization. "dallas! she plays for the dallas wings. that's paige bueckers."

your expression didn't shift. "who?"

zoe rolled her eyes and reached for her phone, opening up instagram and typing in paige's name in the search. she practically shoved the phone in your face. “girl, what? she plays ball. in the league. she's a rookie but been hyped up since high school. she got mad game, i’ll give her that.”

tapping zoe’s screen, your eyes narrowing slightly at the profile pulled up in front of you. paige had it all: blue check, millions of followers, highlight reels, magazine features, the whole deal.

you blinked, a little caught off guard by the level of attention the girl commanded. you expected maybe a couple hundred thousand followers, not a whole fanbase.

"that woman is fine as fuck," zoe said, pulling her phone back down to her side and locking the screen. "if you don't get you some of that... i will."

you knew zoe was joking, but part of you was curious. curious enough to wonder what exactly it was that pulled a basketball star’s attention your way.

you took another slow sip of your drink, then glanced back toward paige, expecting her to still be deep in conversation with her friend.

but she wasn’t.

no thoughts.

just eyes.

locked directly on you.

you froze for half a second, not visibly, but enough to feel it.

zoe was right— paige was insanely gorgeous. her gaze felt like she wasn't just looking, but studying you.

you tried to play it cool, kept your posture relaxed, head slightly tilted like you weren't phased. but with every second paige kept that gaze locked, you felt something shift.

a slow heat settling low in your stomach, crawling up your spine.

you needed another fucking drink.

you turned away from paige's table, nudging zoe, who was deep in conversation with one of your friends, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“imma hit the bar. you want anything?”

zoe shook her head, barely missing a beat. “nah, i’m good.”

you slid out of your seat and excused yourself to the rest of the group before heading toward the bar. you didn’t bother looking back, but you felt paige looking at you still.

you walked a little slower than usual, with just enough sway in your hips to make it worth watching. if paige wanted a show, you were more than happy to give her one.

once you reached the bar, one of the bartenders gave you a quick nod, mouthing 'give me a sec' as he tended to a row of customers.

fine. you had time.

you slipped onto one of the empty stools, crossing your legs, letting your fingers trail along the edge of the bar. you took a slow breath, just settling into the wait.

then, you felt it.

a presence right next to you. you didn’t even have to look to know who occupied the space.

but you did anyway. and you didn't wait for her to speak first.

"you gon' keep staring at me all night or what?"

you turned your head, chin tilted up due to the height difference. there she stood with her mouth curved into an easy smile and one elbow resting on the edge of the bar. you noticed a chain that hung from her neck in the process.

she looked good. as hell.

but you wouldn't verbally admit that. you weren't going to stroke her ego.

“i’m just tryna figure out how to say hi without gettin’ curved.”

your head titled slightly, eyes skating across paige’s face, still deciding if she was worth the time.

“so this is you being shy?”

“nah,” paige said, shaking her head once. “this is me being respectful. you had a whole section, friends, vibe going on. i wasn’t tryna interrupt all that.”

"what changed?"

paige licked her lips, her eyes drifting for a second, just enough time to gather the words. then they locked back onto yours, more focused now.

“i did,” she said simply, offering no explanation.

you didn’t respond right away. just let the silence breathe as you thought to yourself.

you weren't naïve, you knew paige wanted you. had known from the second your eyes met. but what surprised you was how paige wanted you.

there was no flash. no ego. no embarrassing attempt to impress you. she didn’t lead with status or money or weak one liners. she came over with intention and left her pride at the door.

and that made you slightly more interested than you already were.

paige, sensing the silence stretching just a little too long, leaned forward slightly, her voice warm.

“i’m paige, by the way.”

she extended her hand steadily, no pressure behind it. you looked at it for a second, then took it, her fingers cool against your palm.

you introduced yourself, but before either of you could say anything else, the bartender stepped in.

“i apologize about the wait. you ladies need anything?”

you turned slightly, letting your hand fall from paige's loose grip before reaching for your purse. “yeah, i’ll take a paloma.”

your fingers were halfway to your wallet when paige quietly pulled a card from the back of her phone case and handed it over without hesitation.

“i got it,” she said, eyes still on you. her gaze drifted, lingering on the swell of your chest. the way your top exposed just enough to tempt.

she let her eyes trace every curve like she was memorizing it. and when her eyes finally came back up to yours, there was no apology in them.

you swallowed hard, muttering out a 'thank you'.

being this close to paige was fucking with your head. you hadn’t even planned on leaving with anyone tonight, but the way paige looked at you had you feeling something you had been neglected of for a long time.

not just lust, but craved. wanted. seen.

you liked it.

but then reality creeped in. you thought back to your conversation with zoe: paige bueckers, money, wealth, headlines, women.

you had her fair share of one night stands in the past, but never with a celebrity, a basketball star at that.

and that was the problem.

you didn’t want to be a quick fuck in some sweaty club bathroom that got sent off with a quick nod and a 'take care', or worse, plastered on some messy instagram page that lived off exposing celebrity's private shit.

if you were gonna give paige your time— your body, it had to mean something.

paige leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "and don't think i didn't notice that shit you pulled when you walked over here either."

you didn't flinch, but shifted your body toward paige, your knees brushing. the contact sent a spark up your spine.

your lips curled into a knowing smile.

“well... it worked, didn’t it?”

she let a beat of silence pass between the two of you, her eyes never shying away from yours.

"how long you wanna play this game?"

“depends,” you said with a shrug.

“i’m not tryna be just some quick fuck to you,” you said bluntly. “i'm not like these other groupies in dallas, and i’m definitely not easy.”

paige nodded, slow and sure. "good. i don't want easy."

"what? got bored of fucking every girl who threw themselves at you since you got to dallas?" you retorted.

paige didn't say anything, only chuckling in response. she

the bartender placed your drink on the bar with a clink, but it barely registered. your focus stayed locked on paige, who took a step closer. close enough for her body to brush yours, close enough for her scent to trickle into your throat.

her hand moved up without warning, thumb and index finger catching your chin, tilting your head up. not rough, but firm.

your body tensed on instinct, not in fear, but from how fast the atmosphere shifted around you.

“you think i came over here just to fuck you and dip?” she asked. “if that was all i wanted, i’d be long gone by now.”

your breath caught, chest rising slower. everything around you— the people laughing and conversing, the bass thumping through the floor— blurred into noise.

your voice came quieter than intended. “so you’re saying you don’t wanna fuck me?”

paige’s jaw flexed at that. she let out a slow breath, something close to a laugh, but nothing was humorous.

"oh, i definitely want to," paige confessed. her fingers moved just barely. the edge of her thumb brushed along your jaw like she was trying to memorize it. "you've been driving me fucking insane since i saw you and you know that shit."

you did.

and you definitely lied to her earlier. you were easy as fuck... at least when it came to her.

your thighs squeezed together under the bar in a weak attempt to calm the pressure building between them. it was borderline unbearable and you wondered if she could tell. if she knew how deep she had you already with one simple touch.

but before you could speak, she continued on.

"i just don't want to fuck you here. you're worth way more than some back of the club quickie." she said, her eyes flickering down to your plump lips. "besides, if im gonna fuck you, i need you stretched out somewhere clean and comfortable. preferably my bed."

the thought of paige having you stretched out made your mouth go dry. paige didn't move or touch you anywhere else, but it felt like she had you pinned. you absolutely hated it. you couldn't let her get you so easily.

"so what? you think 'cause you got money n'shit that i wanna fuck you too?" you said, gently pushing her hand away from your face.

"you talk a lot of shit, you know?" paige's lips curved into a smirk. "especially for someone who's been clenching their thighs every five seconds."

"oh, please," you scoffed, hating the fact that she was absolutely right. "fuck you."

you turned your body towards the bar and grabbed your drink, taking a much needed sip.

"tell me to leave and i will." paige said, her voice still sending shivers down your spine. "but don't sit here and act like you don't want me, ma."

you stared at the glass in front of you like it had answers. the buzz from the alcohol did nothing to help the burning desire for the woman next to you. you didn't want to give her the satisfaction, but you also didn't want her to leave either.

you turned, "if i didn't want you, you would know. trust."

paige paused. her mouth parted like she had something to say, but nothing came out.

instead, she bit her bottom lip like she needed to keep it together or else she'd end up dragging you out the club right then and there.

“finish your drink,” she said firmly. it looked like she was holding herself together by a thread.

you looked at her for a second, before obliging. you calmly took your glass and knocked it back with one clean sip, setting it back down without breaking eye contact.

"you drive here?" paige asked, pulling her keys from her pocket.

you shook your head.

"good. let's go." she didn't wait for a reply, just turned and started walking like she knew you'd follow.

and you did.

you glanced over to your friend's table to find zoe already looking at you with a knowing smirk. she made a humping gesture and you were quick to flip her off before catching up to the blonde woman in front of you.

it was about midnight now and the air was chillier than it was when you arrived. but you welcomed it, it relieved your flushed skin.

paige finally looked back once you were both out of the building, her eyes looking you over under the glowing neon club sign.

"you good?"

it was like she was asking if you were still in. wondering if you were going to start second guessing.

but you made up your mind.

"yeah," you said. "you?"

she nodded, biting her bottom lip before she started walking. "i'm parked around the corner."

it wasn't long before you two made it to her car. she led you to her passenger side, opening the door for you, and watched as you stepped in.

she then got in herself from the drivers side and started the car, driving off.

the ride was quiet. not in an awkward way, but dangerously quiet. the radio was a whisper and somehow during the first two minutes of the ride, paige's right hand had made its way to your thigh. you wanted to squirm. you knew she was doing it on purpose too.

but you tried to play it off anyway. your eyes stayed glued to the road, trying to distract yourself by reading random billboard signs that passed by. but your body betrayed you. again.

you leaned towards the window, quickly pressed the button down, and let the fresh cool air wash over your hot skin. but it wasn't enough to settle you.

paige glanced over, "you okay?"

"mhm," you hummed, shutting your eyes as your head rested against the door. "it's just really hot."

you could hear paige pause briefly before chuckling. "it's 65 degrees in here."

you didn't respond, just silently prayed for the ride to end before her hand slipped any further between your legs. but of course, paige, sensing your overwhelming discomfort, slipped her hand even further.

her movements were slow, tempting, almost as if she was waiting on you to stop her. but the slit in your dress and your slightly parted thighs gave her access to swipe her finger against your clothed clit.

“paige,” you warned, cracking your eyes open.

she wasn’t looking at you. her eyes locked on the road with her bottom lip caught between her teeth like she was holding back a laugh or a moan, you couldn’t tell which.

“hm?” she murmured lazily. her middle finger dragged along the edge of your thong, toying with the fabric like she had all the time in the world. “no more shit to say?”

and then she pushed it aside.

you were undeniably wet it was nearly humiliating. you had been since the moment she sized you up at the bar like she already had you bent over in her mind. but with the cold air kissing your exposed pussy, there was no more hiding it.

yet still, still, she refused to touch your clit. instead, she rested them on the inside of your thigh calmly. you couldn't help but notice she was driving slow as fuck too— at least ten under, like she wanted you to suffer.

you clenched your fists in frustration. "i'm not the only one who's running their mouth. you say you want me, but you haven't done shit to me all night."

she let out a short laugh, finally glancing over to you for a brief second. "yeah?"

her next move was sudden. before you could even process anything, you felt her slide her fingers inside of you, smooth and deep. your breath hitched as your thighs instantly widened to make more space for her.

a hand instantly flew to the passenger side door with a smack, blindly searching for anything solid to grip onto as she slowly curled her finger against your g-spot.

a sharp, helpless moan left your lips.

"say something else," paige said, her voice laced with grit.

you tried. you really did.

the beginning of a 'fuck you' was on the tip of your tongue, but the words died in your throat the second her middle finger circled your clit with precision, the pressure just right. you choked back a moan.

"drippin' all over my seat and i barely even touched you tonight," she murmured, almost mockingly, like she was pitying you. "look at you, ma."

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the blind spot mirror. the wind picked up, making your curls wildly stick to your face as your chest rose and fell in deep pulls. your lips were parted, legs trembling,

she kept her rhythm painfully slow. each time she pressed her knuckles deep inside you, she pulled back too soon, leaving you clenching around nothing but air. you were soaked. your arousal dripped down your thighs and coated her fingers.

"shhh... you hear that?" paige lowly, almost like she was holding back a moan. she dragged her fingers out slowly, making your pussy squelch shamefully.

you only nodded against the headrest. the feeling of an orgasm brewed deep in your gut as your hips moved on their own, chasing after the high she was refusing you.

"paige..." you gasped, voice cracking as your dragged out the last syllable.

then her palm brushed against your clit and you cried out, sharp and needy.

your hand shot down, fingers wrapping tight around her wrist, forcing her palm back onto your throbbing clit.

and she let you.

"you wanna cum for me, baby?"

you nodded your head, eyes fluttering shut. your legs were trembling against her leather seats as she slightly picked up her speed, curling her long fingers up into you

"shit, paige," your moan was desperate and breathless. "just like that."

your orgasm was right there, sitting heavy in your stomach, just a few seconds away.

until paige suddenly retracted her hand. completely.

your body jerked at the sudden loss, your orgasm snatched right from under you. you snapped open your eyes to catch paige licking the thick coat of slick that was on her fingers like it was left over candy residue.

you groaned in disbelief, reaching over to smack her arm. "are you fucking serious?"

she finished sucking the last of it off before plastering a lazy smile on her face. "deadass."

you stared at her, breath still ragged and your pussy still exposed, clenching around nothing yet again. you closed your legs together, cringing at the discomfort.

paige rolled to a complete stop at a red light before turning over to you, meeting your eyes. her hand found your thigh again, giving it a soft squeeze.

"don't worry, baby. we're almost there."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #wlw #wbb #black reader #idk when part 2 gonna be posted ngl

358 notes · View notes

lanadelspray02 · 1 month ago

Text

HOLD ME ANYWAY: CHAPTER 15

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

Hi guys, you all wanted the chapter so badly, so here it is. Hopefully, it makes sense, as I haven't had a chance to edit it yet. Thanks for showing love :) as always let me know your thoughts

crossposted ao3 here

masterlist here

wc: 9473

--------------------

The early afternoon sun hung bright and stubbornly cheerful, glinting off the sleek silver paint of the team bus parked just beyond the gym doors. Paige squinted against the glare, one hand gripping the handle of her travel bag, the other fiddling with the zipper of Azzi’s hoodie she’d adopted sometime in the last twenty-four hours. The fabric was worn-in, soft, and smelled unmistakably like Azzi, warm, clean, comforting.

She glanced to her side and felt that familiar flutter, the quiet rush of realising Azzi was right there. Azzi stood next to her, bag slung easily over one shoulder, curls pulled loosely back. Her eyes followed the line of teammates filing onto the bus, their laughter and teasing drifting back on the breeze. Paige watched her discreetly, a smile tugging at her lips. She still didn’t understand how she’d gotten lucky enough to be let into this part of Azzi, unguarded, real.

Azzi, sensing the weight of Paige’s stare, turned slightly. Her eyes softened. “You okay?” she asked, voice low enough to slip beneath the surrounding chatter.

Paige nodded, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Yeah. Just realised it’s the first time we’re going away together since… everything.”

Azzi’s mouth twitched, amused. “Everything, huh?”

“You know,” Paige said, ducking her head with a shy smile. “Us.”

Azzi’s heart tightened at the word. Us. So casual now, so inevitable. “It feels different,” she admitted. “But good.”

“Yeah,” Paige echoed quickly. “Really good.”

A familiar voice broke the moment, loud, teasing, and just pointed enough. “You two coming, or are we interrupting something?” KK called from the bus steps, one brow arched dramatically.

Azzi rolled her eyes as a flush crept into her cheeks. Paige just laughed, then reached down and intwined their fingers without hesitation. “Mind your business,” she called, mock-indignant.

Azzi squeezed her hand gently, warmth blooming in her chest at Paige’s quiet boldness.

They boarded the bus together. The familiar scent of leather seats and stale air freshener clung to the aisle as they passed by their teammates. Paige led them toward the back, only letting go of Azzi’s hand to slide into the window seat and guide her down beside her.

Paige leaned back with a quiet sigh, adjusting their hands so they rested over her thigh. She felt Azzi settle in next to her, and a slow warmth traveled up her arm and into her chest.

Around them, the team’s chatter ebbed and flowed. Caroline was loudly arguing about true crime podcasts with Ines. Nika had already slipped in headphones, head tilted back. KK was animatedly explaining something to Ice and Amari using far too many hand gestures. Paige watched them all fondly before turning back to Azzi.

Azzi was staring down at their joined hands, her thumb brushing light circles over Paige’s knuckles. There was something wondering in her expression.

Paige leaned a little closer. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Azzi looked up, lips parting slightly before she spoke. “It’s strange. Just sitting here. With you. Out in the open like this.”

Paige’s heart tugged. “Does it bother you?”

Azzi shook her head, grip tightening. “No. Just different.”

“Good different?” Paige asked softly.

“Definitely good,” Azzi said, eyes brightening as she met Paige’s gaze. “It just still feels like... I’m waiting for someone to tell us we can’t.”

Paige nudged their shoulders together. “No one’s telling us anything,” she said. “Not anymore.”

Azzi smiled and turned, resting her forehead against Paige’s shoulder. She closed her eyes for just a second. Paige didn’t say anything else. She just let her stay there.

The bus lurched forward, merging onto the highway. The hum of the road blended with the soft murmur of conversation, creating a quiet lull around them.

Several minutes passed before KK twisted around from the row ahead, her face lit with mischief. “Are we sure we trust you two rooming together?” she asked loudly. “I mean, we might never see either of you again.”

Azzi groaned into Paige’s shoulder, hiding her face. Paige didn’t miss a beat, she leaned forward, deadpan. “You’ll survive two days without me. Barely, but you’ll manage.”

KK cackled. “We’ll see about that.”

Azzi lifted her head again, cheeks flushed but smiling. “They’re going to give us hell all trip, aren’t they?”

Paige squeezed her hand, smile turning softer. “Probably. But it’s worth it.”

Azzi looked at her for a beat, searching her expression. “You mean that?”

“Every word,” Paige said, no hesitation. She leaned over and pressed a featherlight kiss to Azzi’s temple. Azzi’s stomach flipped, the warmth in her chest rushing outward.

They fell quiet again. The rhythm of the road settled into something peaceful. Paige’s thumb brushed idly across the back of Azzi’s hand. Her eyes drifted closed—not asleep, just settled.

Azzi watched her a moment longer, then allowed herself to lean in, her own eyes fluttering shut.

Her thoughts briefly flicked to Ruby, wondering how she was doing without her but she knew her parents had it handled. Ruby would be okay. And for now, so would she.

The bus rumbled beneath them, the world blurring gently outside the window. Paige’s fingers tightened slightly, as if grounding herself to Azzi’s presence.

For the first time since they started this journey, Paige didn’t just feel hopeful, she felt certain. Certain of where she belonged. Certain of who she belonged to.

And Azzi, curled into Paige’s side, surrounded by teammates who teased but never judged, felt it too.

Safe. Real. The road stretched ahead, quiet and full of promise.

--------------------

The hotel lobby was comfortably busy, murmuring with the quiet bustle of travelers and the distant hum of conversation from the adjoining restaurant. Paige shifted her bag onto her shoulder, eyeing the neatly arranged rows of keys Coach had laid out on a polished table near reception. Teammates gathered around, grabbing their room assignments with subdued chatter, laughter and inside jokes floating lightly through the air.

Azzi stood just behind her, fingers brushing lightly against Paige’s back. The contact was casual, maybe even unconscious, but Paige felt it everywhere. That small, steady touch, protective, present, it warmed her more than she expected.

“You two are in room 312,” Coach said as he passed, tone casual, but his look at Paige carried more than a little amusement. “Don’t be late for shootaround.”

“Yes, Coach,” Paige replied quickly, voice neutral, but eyes shining. Azzi’s hand dropped to her side as Paige grabbed the keys, flipping them once in her palm as they started toward the elevators.

“Don’t forget we have practice later, lovebirds,” KK called after them. “Pace yourselves.”

Azzi laughed, covering her mouth as a light flush crept up her cheeks. Paige glanced back over her shoulder with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Maybe you should worry about your own roommate.”

KK grinned wickedly, yanking Amari into a playful headlock. “She knows how to handle me.”

“They’re ridiculous,” Azzi muttered as the elevator doors closed behind them, her tone fond but exasperated.

Paige pressed the button for their floor, stepping closer without thinking. “We might deserve a little teasing,” she said, eyes dancing. “We weren’t exactly subtle on the bus.”

Azzi tilted her head, mouth curving. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

Paige chuckled and stepped in until they were nearly chest to chest. She tugged at the hem of the hoodie Azzi had once owned and she’d now fully claimed. “Complaining? Nah. I’m just wondering how we’ve been roommates for all of two minutes and you’ve already surrendered all the good hoodies.”

Azzi arched an eyebrow. “That one is mine.”

“Exactly,” Paige whispered, lips brushing her ear. “You really think you’re getting this back?”

The elevator dinged before Azzi could reply, doors sliding open. Paige grinned and stepped out first, tossing a cheeky look over her shoulder. “Coming, roomie?”

Azzi exhaled a small laugh and followed. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

Azzi’s eyes softened immediately. “Yeah. I do.”

Their footsteps padded quietly down the carpeted hallway. Paige unlocked their door, then stepped back with an exaggerated bow. “After you, my lady.”

Azzi nudged her with a smirk as she walked past. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only for you,” Paige said, quieter now, the sincerity underneath catching gently in her voice.

The room was small but cozy, sunlight filtering through sheer curtains in soft gold stripes. Two neatly made beds sat side by side, with a nightstand between them. Paige dropped her bag at the foot of the bed closest to the window without hesitation. Azzi followed, placing hers beside it.

For a moment, the silence settled, not awkward, but full of unspoken thoughts.

Azzi glanced over. “You okay with... this arrangement? I mean, if you’d rather—”

Paige cut her off with a small shake of her head. “There’s nowhere else I’d want to be,” she said, reaching for Azzi’s hand, her thumb tracing lightly over her knuckles. “But only if you feel the same.”

Azzi’s hand closed around hers. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Paige’s smile softened. That simple answer settled something deep in her chest.

They unpacked in a comfortable rhythm, occasionally bumping into each other, laughing quietly when they did. Paige lined up her toiletries beside Azzi’s on the bathroom counter, heart fluttering at how natural it felt. Azzi, still sitting on the edge of the bed, watched her with quiet affection.

“You seem comfortable,” she said softly, leaning back on her elbows.

Paige leaned in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, casual but curious. “Should I not be?”

Azzi shrugged, smiling faintly. “No, it’s just… I’ve never shared a room on a trip with someone I was dating. It’s... new.”

Crossing the room, Paige sat beside her, close but unhurried. Her fingers brushed Azzi’s knee. “It’s new for me too,” she said. “And it feels important. Like we’re building something.”

Azzi felt warmth unfurl in her chest. She nodded. “It does.”

Paige hesitated, then added, quieter now, “I’m glad it’s you. I don’t think I could do this with anyone else.”

Azzi’s breath caught. “Me either.”

Paige pressed her palm lightly to Azzi’s thigh, then leaned in and kissed her temple, slow and reassuring.

When she pulled back, Azzi opened her eyes, visibly moved. “We should probably unpack before practice.”

“Yeah,” Paige said, though she didn’t move right away. Instead, she rested her head lightly on Azzi’s shoulder. Azzi responded instinctively, her fingers brushing through Paige’s hair.

Eventually, they stood again, returning to their suitcases in a quiet rhythm. Paige caught herself glancing at Azzi every few moments, smiling without meaning to. Azzi looked back just as often, savoring how openly Paige admired her, something that had felt impossible not long ago.

When they were finished, Paige stretched out and flopped dramatically across the bed. “We did good.”

Azzi laughed, sitting beside her. “We unpacked a suitcase.”

“Teamwork,” Paige said, eyes sparkling.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Paige said, serious this time.

Azzi’s heart swelled. “Yeah. Mine.”

Paige beamed, satisfied. “And now we’re official roommates.”

“Just until Tuesday,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes.

Paige shrugged. Her voice softened. “But maybe someday for real.”

Azzi stilled, breath catching. She looked at Paige, and something warm and steady unfurled beneath her ribs. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Maybe someday for real.”

They sat in silence then, the hum of the air conditioner the only sound. No rush. No pressure.

Just the quiet weight of a promise, simple, steady, and real.

And for both of them, that promise didn’t feel scary anymore.

It felt like home.

--------------------

The arena was cool, fluorescent lights reflecting sharply off the polished hardwood. Paige took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of waxed floors and leather basketballs. It grounded her, a steady pulse of pregame adrenaline humming beneath her skin.

Azzi jogged beside her, focused and calm, energy simmering just beneath the surface. She rolled a basketball between her fingertips, fluid and effortless, each movement honed by years of repetition. Paige watched her discreetly, admiring the way Azzi moved, all quiet strength and natural grace.

She wasn’t subtle about it. The warmth in her gaze bordered on awe, and for once, she didn’t bother hiding it. It felt freeing to look openly, to let Azzi catch her staring and not turn away.

Azzi noticed immediately, her heart fluttering under Paige’s attention. The intensity wasn’t new, but the ease of it was. This unguarded affection, this rightness, felt thrilling in a way she hadn’t expected. She smiled, shaking her head faintly.

“You gonna stare at me all afternoon or actually warm up?” she teased, bouncing the ball lightly in Paige’s direction.

Paige caught it with ease, grinning. “Can’t help it. You look good when you’re focused.”

Azzi arched an eyebrow and stepped closer, voice low and teasing. “Just focused?”

Paige’s eyes danced. “Well, there might be other adjectives I’d use. But we are technically working.”

Azzi laughed, a warm flush blooming in her chest. “You’re something else, Paige Bueckers.”

“Glad you finally noticed.” Paige nudged her gently with an elbow as she passed.

Around them, the rest of the team moved into warm-up drills. Paige hit a series of smooth jumpers, rhythm sharp and confident. Azzi’s shots were clean, precise. Between reps, they exchanged small glances, wordless check-ins, quiet smiles, that said more than conversation could.

Across the court, KK watched with a smirk. “Hey, lovebirds,” she called, loud enough to carry. “Save the heart eyes for after practice. You’re distracting the freshmen.”

Paige chuckled, cheeks warming. Azzi rolled her eyes. “You’re just jealous.”

KK clutched her chest dramatically. “Devastated, truly.”

Paige tossed the ball back toward her. “Focus on your own shots, Arnold.”

“Rude.” KK turned away, mock-offended, and Paige turned back to Azzi with a grin. “Sorry. I’m not great at subtlety.”

Azzi smiled, soft and sure. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“But it’s okay?” Paige asked, teasing, but genuinely wanting to know.

Azzi nodded. “It’s more than okay. I kind of like it.”

Paige’s chest warmed at that. “Good. Because subtlety has never been my thing.”

They headed to the bench for water, Paige reaching for Azzi’s bottle like it was second nature. She sipped without thinking. Azzi watched, amused.

“Is everything of mine just yours now?”

Paige handed it back, smirking. “Pretty much.”

Azzi shook her head, entirely charmed. “If you keep acting like this, the team’s going to think you actually like me or something.”

Paige leaned in, voice low. “God forbid.”

Azzi laughed softly, her expression filled with quiet affection. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Paige said. “But at least I’m your ridiculous.”

Azzi’s heart fluttered at the simplicity of it. “Yeah,” she murmured. “You definitely are.”

A whistle from Coach pulled them back to the moment. Paige brushed a hand across Azzi’s lower back as they moved, the touch light but grounding. Azzi felt the warmth linger.

Coach’s huddle was short — firm, focused, encouraging. Paige listened with intent, but her eyes flicked toward Azzi often, small nods passing between them, subtle smiles exchanged, just enough to say I'm here.

“Alright,” Coach finished, clapping once. “Stay sharp. See you at tip-off.”

The team dispersed. Paige lingered by the sideline, watching as Azzi packed up her gear with calm precision. She didn’t rush. She didn’t need to. Being near Azzi like this, openly, comfortably, it felt right.

Azzi glanced up and caught her looking. “Ready?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah.”

They walked slowly toward the locker room, teammates drifting ahead and behind. Paige’s heart swelled with a quiet sense of belonging. She hadn’t known how natural it could feel to be with someone like this, in public, without fear.

Azzi noticed the small smile on her face. “What’s that look for?”

Paige shrugged, eyes soft. “Just... happy. It’s nice. Being like this. With you.”

Azzi’s chest tightened. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “It really is.”

Just inside the empty hallway leading to the locker rooms, Paige stopped. She stepped closer, voice lowering to something private. “Promise me something?”

Azzi tilted her head. “What?”

Paige’s gaze was steady. “Promise me that tonight, we won’t overthink anything. No pressure. No second-guessing. Just us.”

Azzi’s breath caught. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

Azzi nodded slowly. “I promise.”

Paige leaned in and kissed her cheek, warm and certain. “Good. Because you mean too much to me for us to keep doubting it.”

Azzi smiled, breathless. “For someone who hates cliches, you really know how to use them.”

Paige laughed. “Only for you.”

Azzi’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Then it’s okay.”

They stood there a moment longer, the promise settling between them like something sacred. Paige reached out, brushing her fingers down Azzi’s arm in a slow, comforting sweep.

Words felt unnecessary now. Paige just smiled, taking the lead toward the locker room door. Azzi followed, steadied by her presence.

Whatever tension she’d still been carrying slipped away. What remained was something quiet and sure.

Tonight wasn’t just about the game. It was about what came after, about everything they’d both been working toward without quite naming it.

And when Paige reached for her hand just before they stepped through the door, Azzi squeezed it back — not just a promise, but a beginning.

--------------------

The locker room buzzed with quiet energy, the familiar hum of pre-game rituals settling comfortably among teammates. Bags rustled, zippers echoed against metal lockers, and shoes squeaked faintly against polished floors. Paige leaned forward on the bench, tightening her laces with practiced ease, her heartbeat steady but quick.

Azzi sat nearby, adjusting the waistband of her shorts, her expression calm, but thoughtful. Her mind lingered on that quiet moment in the hallway, the sincerity in Paige’s voice still warm in her chest. She glanced sideways, catching the peaceful set of Paige’s jaw, the glint of confidence in her eyes. Her stomach fluttered.

Paige caught her gaze, expression softening into a quiet smile. She tilted her head, eyes flicking toward the empty hallway near the showers. Azzi understood instantly, heart skipping as she stood and followed her discreetly into the dim, quiet corridor.

Once around the corner, out of sight, Paige reached gently for Azzi’s waist, tugging her into a small alcove. Their bodies were close, inches apart, Paige’s hands settling naturally on Azzi’s hips, thumbs brushing lightly against her warm-up shorts.

Azzi’s breath caught, shallow and soft. “Paige—”

“Just for a second,” Paige murmured, voice low. “I needed a moment alone with you before the game.”

Azzi’s face softened, affection blooming in her chest. “You’re really not great at subtlety.”

Paige smiled faintly, leaning in to brush her lips against Azzi’s cheekbone — warm, careful, steady. “Not when it comes to you.”

Azzi closed her eyes briefly, breathing deep. She rested her hands on Paige’s shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of her jersey. “You really meant what you said out there?” she asked, voice small but hopeful.

Paige pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Every word. No second-guessing. Just us.”

Azzi’s heart swelled, trust anchoring gently in her chest. She nodded. “Good.”

Paige smiled, brushing Azzi’s hair behind her ear, her voice dropping teasingly. “So... do I get that good-luck kiss now, or should I wait until I hit twenty points?”

Azzi laughed softly, eyes gleaming. “You’ll have to hit thirty if you want that.”

Paige’s grin turned mischievous. “Challenge accepted.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “But I guess twenty gets you something.”

Paige barely had time to smile before Azzi kissed her, soft, lingering, and unmistakably charged. Paige melted into the contact, fingers curling gently at Azzi’s waist, her chest fluttering.

When Azzi pulled back, Paige let out a slow breath, eyes still closed, a quiet smile spreading across her lips. “Wow. What do I get if I hit thirty?”

Azzi leaned in, whispering against her ear. “We’ll talk about that after the game.”

A visible shiver rippled through Paige as Azzi stepped back toward the corridor.

“Now who’s distracting who?” Paige asked, voice a little breathless.

“You started it,” Azzi shot back, her smirk playful.

Paige followed her slowly, heart full. “I’ll gladly take the blame for this one.”

As they reentered the main locker area, a few curious eyes followed them. KK looked up from adjusting her wristband, one brow raised, voice playful. “Strategising, huh?”

Paige grinned easily, shrugging. “You know me. Always planning ahead.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, nudging her lightly with her shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige just laughed, warmth still radiating through her chest. “Again… your ridiculous.”

Azzi smiled to herself, a faint nod the only acknowledgment she gave. She returned to the bench, slipping back into game mode with ease, comforted by Paige’s steady presence beside her.

As the team began to head toward the tunnel, Paige reached for Azzi’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Azzi returned it, warmth spreading through her chest and settling beneath her ribs.

Tonight wasn’t just another game, it felt quietly monumental. Not because they had something to prove, but because something real was waiting after. Something strong. Something entirely theirs.

As the lights of the arena flared ahead, Paige leaned in and whispered, just loud enough for Azzi to hear, “Thirty points. Watch me.”

Azzi smiled, heart fluttering. “I’ll be counting.”

Side by side, they stepped onto the court — ready.

--------------------

The arena lights blazed overhead, the rhythmic drumming of basketballs echoing sharply off polished hardwood. Paige’s heartbeat quickened pleasantly as she took her place at mid-court, eyes skimming the packed stands before settling into focus. Beside her, Azzi stood poised, body tense with anticipation, gaze sharp.

As the whistle blew and the ball tipped into the air, Paige surged forward, energy crackling beneath her skin. She secured possession quickly, eyes immediately finding Azzi sprinting alongside her down the wing. Their chemistry was effortless, automatic, forged through hours of practice and instinct.

Paige hesitated, drawing defenders closer before flicking the ball sideways. Azzi caught it cleanly, feet already set behind the arc. Her release was smooth, and the ball whispered through the net.

The crowd erupted. Paige’s chest filled with a fierce, fast warmth.

“Nice pass,” Azzi called as she jogged by, voice light, eyes dancing.

Paige grinned, adrenaline buzzing. “Nice shot.”

They slipped into rhythm. Paige weaving through defenders with sharp precision, finishing each play with cool efficiency. Azzi moved quietly, strategically, always exactly where she needed to be.

During one fast break, Paige sprinted ahead, feeling Azzi beside her. A glance was all it took. She threaded a pass through traffic. Azzi caught it, hesitated just long enough to draw her defender, then sent it back. Paige drove hard and finished with a layup that kissed the backboard before dropping cleanly through the net.

Cheers erupted again. Paige turned to Azzi, grinning wide, their eyes meeting with quiet triumph.

Azzi smiled back, heart fluttering. Paige always played with her heart wide open, and Azzi felt lucky to see it.

The team fed off their energy. KK played assertively, inspired by Paige’s fire. Nika and Caroline found rhythm beside Azzi’s calm steadiness.

At the end of the third quarter, Coach called a timeout. The team huddled tight. Paige stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Azzi, breathing hard, but bright-eyed.

“We’re in good shape,” Coach said. “Keep pushing. Paige, keep attacking, they can’t stop you. Azzi, keep leading. You’re making everyone better.”

Paige felt Azzi tense slightly beside her. Subtly, she reached down and squeezed Azzi’s wrist. Azzi looked up, meeting Paige’s eyes with silent gratitude.

When the game resumed, Paige was relentless. Every shot seemed to fall. Azzi was always there, shifting defenders, facilitating plays, grounding the tempo.

Late in the fourth, Azzi drove toward the basket, slipped around two defenders, and sent the ball behind her with barely a look. Paige caught it in stride, stepped back, and launched a clean, arcing three.

It swished through the net.

“Thirty!” KK shouted from the bench, laughing. “That’s thirty, Paige!”

Paige blinked, then grinned — remembering. Her eyes snapped to Azzi, whose cheeks had flushed. She looked away, smiling faintly.

“Keep focused, Bueckers,” Azzi called, stepping past her with a smirk.

“You can’t ignore this forever, Azzi.”

“Just finish the game.”

And they did, closing strong, pulling away to a clear win.

As the buzzer echoed, the team surged into celebration. Paige found Azzi quickly, reaching for her elbow, leaning in close.

“You owe me,” she said, voice warm and teasing.

Azzi laughed, leaning closer. “You played like you had something to prove.”

Paige’s grin softened. “Maybe I did.”

Azzi tilted her head, eyes steady. “Point made.”

Warmth bloomed in Paige’s chest. “Because I meant every shot.”

“I know,” Azzi said, voice low.

They lingered in that moment, joy humming around them, but something quieter passing between them.

Paige brushed her fingers across Azzi’s forearm. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Azzi’s smile was soft. “Always.”

Paige nodded, heart full, before the team swept them back into celebration.

Tonight was more than a win. It was a confirmation — of growth, of trust, of something quietly unfolding between them.

For Paige, it meant the world that Azzi had stood beside her, steady, unshakable. For Azzi, it meant everything that Paige had embraced their connection so openly.

The scoreboard declared a victory.

But the real win was shared — soft, silent, and profoundly theirs.

They walked off the court side-by-side, knowing the most meaningful part of the night was still waiting.

--------------------

The hotel restaurant buzzed with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of silverware, a warm comfortable soundtrack following their decisive victory. Paige slid into a booth in the corner, Azzi settling beside her, their shoulders brushing. The soft contact sent a familiar warmth through Paige’s chest, grounding, reassuring in a way she hadn’t known she needed.

Across the table, KK flopped into her seat with a dramatic sigh. “Paige, thirty-four points. That was just disrespectful.”

Paige laughed softly, cheeks faintly flushed. “You guys made it easy. I just got open shots.”

Nika raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, really? And that look you gave Azzi after every basket — just gratitude?”

Paige shrugged, unbothered. “Motivation.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and nudged her under the table. “You’re lucky it worked.”

Paige’s hand brushed Azzi’s knee, quiet and confident. “I knew it would.”

Azzi’s stomach fluttered at the casual intimacy, settling deeper into the booth, comforted by Paige’s nearness.

The server arrived, taking orders quickly as the team settled into relaxed chatter. KK leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “So, roomies. Any exciting plans tonight?”

Paige raised a brow, deadpan. “Sleep. Hydrate. Like responsible athletes.”

KK snorted. “Sure you are.”

Azzi shook her head, amused. “You worry about your own plans, KK.”

The table laughed. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, Netflix, the long trip home, and leftover adrenaline from the game. Paige stayed quiet, Azzi’s presence at her side grounding her more than anything else. It felt good being open, being known.

Paige’s thumb brushed gently against Azzi’s thigh. Azzi glanced sideways, eyes softening. She smiled faintly and leaned into Paige’s shoulder.

From across the table, Caroline smiled. “You two are adorable, you know that?”

Azzi flushed, hiding behind her hand. Paige smiled easily. “We’re aware.”

Caroline grinned. “I never thought I’d see Azzi affectionate in public. Honestly, it’s kind of nice.”

Azzi groaned. “Can we not talk about me like I’m not sitting right here?”

Paige chuckled, squeezing her knee. “She’s just happy for you. Let her have it.”

Azzi sighed, smiling anyway. “You’re impossible.”

“You keep saying that,” Paige murmured, amused.

Azzi met her gaze. “Because it’s true.”

Desserts arrived, chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream passed back and forth. Laughter softened, conversation grew more reflective. Eventually, people started drifting toward their rooms.

“You tired?” Paige asked, voice low.

Azzi shook her head, still leaning against her. “Not yet. You?”

Paige smiled, brushing her fingers over Azzi’s. “No. I like this.”

They sat for a while longer in companionable silence, until Azzi glanced up, voice soft. “You wanna head up?”

Paige nodded, squeezing her hand. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They said goodnight to the few teammates left at the table. KK gave them a knowing smile as they left. Paige just smiled back.

The elevator ride was quiet and close. Paige leaned gently against the wall, watching Azzi’s profile.

“You know,” she murmured, “this is the first away game where I’ve been excited to get back to the room.”

Azzi smiled, cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah.”

The elevator doors opened. Azzi stepped out first, then looked back over her shoulder. “Well, we did promise no overthinking.”

Paige smiled. “Just us.”

Azzi’s heart fluttered. “Exactly.”

At the door, Paige unlocked it and opened it with a playful flourish. Azzi shook her head, fond and warm as she stepped inside.

The room felt different now — intimate, significant. Paige shut the door softly behind them, her gaze lingering on Azzi.

“You okay?” she asked.

Azzi nodded, stepping closer. “I’m more than okay.”

Paige’s chest tightened. She reached up, brushing Azzi’s hair back. “Me too.”

They stood still for a moment, breathing each other in. Paige felt something settle deep inside her, a sense of peace she hadn’t known she was missing.

Azzi leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. “Tonight was special.”

Paige cupped her face gently. “Every night with you is.”

Azzi smiled, eyes shining. “You’re good at this.”

“Only for you,” Paige whispered.

Azzi kissed her — soft, warm, sure. Paige melted into it, hand tightening slightly at Azzi’s waist.

When they parted, Azzi rested her forehead against Paige’s. “Thank you for tonight.”

Paige whispered, “Always.”

They stood like that, quiet, close, breathing in sync.

And when Paige took her hand and led her gently toward the bed, neither of them hesitated.

Because this moment, this felt exactly right.

--------------------

The room had grown quiet, soft shadows stretching across the walls from the single bedside lamp Azzi had switched on, casting everything in a muted, cozy warmth. Paige lay stretched beside her on the bed, nestled into the pillows, a contented warmth spreading beneath her ribs. Azzi leaned against the headboard, legs tucked beneath her, quietly scrolling through her phone.

“You think Ruby’s still up?” Paige asked, her voice soft, tinged with gentle eagerness.

Azzi smiled faintly, glancing at the clock. “If she’s not, she will be when she sees you.”

Paige chuckled, nudging her shoulder. “You make it sound like she’s only excited for me.”

“Trust me,” Azzi murmured, dialing quickly. “You’re definitely the highlight.”

Paige settled closer, her chin resting lightly on Azzi’s shoulder as the screen connected. Her heart fluttered as Ruby’s sleepy, smiling face filled the screen — curls wild, Sparklehorn tucked snug under her chin.

“Hi, Mama! Hi, Paigey!” Ruby chirped brightly, eyes lighting up. “You won!”

“We did,” Paige said, grinning. “Did you watch?”

Ruby nodded excitedly, bouncing in place. “Mama shoot really good. You too!”

Azzi smiled, heart swelling. “Did Grandma and Grandpa watch with you?”

Ruby nodded again, curls bouncing. “Grandpa yell at TV! He say Paigey shoot too many points!”

Paige laughed. “Tell Grandpa I’m very sorry. Next time I’ll let Mama shoot more.”

Ruby shook her head solemnly. “No! You win! Always win.”

Azzi reached out and gently brushed her fingers over Paige’s hand. “Ruby says you’re allowed to keep scoring.”

Paige smiled, giving Azzi’s fingers a soft squeeze. “Glad Ruby approves.”

Ruby shifted, pulling Sparklehorn closer. “Paigey, you tell Sparklehorn bedtime story? She say she no sleep ‘til you tell.”

Paige felt her heart expand. “Of course. Is she tucked in?”

Ruby nodded, tucking Sparklehorn beneath the blanket with great care. “She ready now.”

Paige leaned a little closer to the phone, her voice falling into a soothing rhythm. “Okay. Once upon a time, Sparklehorn traveled far away to the secret Cookie Mountain…”

Ruby’s eyes widened, rapt. Azzi’s heart fluttered as she watched them — Paige’s voice gentle and patient, Ruby’s whole body slowly relaxing. Paige guided them through cookie forests and marshmallow rivers, her tone soft and musical.

By the time she finished “…and Sparklehorn and Ruby lived happily ever after” Ruby’s eyes were barely open.

“Love you, Paigey. Love you, Mama,” she murmured sleepily.

Paige’s breath caught. “Love you too, Roo.”

Azzi smiled softly. “We love you, baby. Goodnight.”

Katie’s face replaced Ruby’s on screen, adjusting the camera gently. “She was waiting all night for that story. Thank you both.”

Paige nodded, cheeks slightly pink. “It’s our pleasure.”

“Congratulations on the win,” Katie said warmly. “You both played beautifully.”

Azzi leaned in. “Thanks, Mum. Everything okay there?”

Katie nodded. “Perfect. You two rest. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

They said their goodnights. As the screen went dark, the room fell back into a quiet, steady calm.

Paige shifted closer, resting her head against Azzi’s shoulder. Her chest felt full, not loud or urgent, but deeply tender.

“She makes everything feel so simple,” she whispered.

Azzi’s fingers threaded gently through Paige’s hair. “That’s what I love most about her. How simple she makes everything.”

Paige’s eyes drifted closed under the softness of Azzi’s touch. “I don’t think I ever understood what family meant until you two.”

Azzi’s heart caught. “You’re our family now, Paige. Completely.”

Paige opened her eyes, looking at her. “I want to be. More than anything.”

Azzi smiled, eyes glowing. “You already are.”

They sat like that, still and quiet. Paige felt a gentle awe settle in her chest, at being let in, at being loved in this way.

Azzi marveled at how easily Paige fit into their lives, how natural her care for Ruby was, how sincere her heart felt. It was all so quiet, but so real.

Paige shifted again, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s waist and resting her head against her shoulder. “I really love you, you know,” she whispered.

Azzi smiled. “I really love you, too.”

They stayed like that — quiet, peaceful, wrapped in something softly profound.

Tonight wasn’t just about love. It was about the life they were beginning to build together.

And in the soft lamplight, with the weight of the day finally settling, both Paige and Azzi knew:

This was it.

Exactly what they’d been looking for.

--------------------

The room had grown still, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Outside, the distant hum of traffic and a faint burst of laughter drifted up from the street below, muffled but familiar. Paige shifted slightly against the pillows, her head nestled against Azzi’s shoulder, the rhythm of Azzi’s breathing slow and steady beneath her cheek.

Azzi sat quietly, her fingers idly brushing through Paige’s hair. There was a calmness in her chest, a warmth she didn’t need to name. Just Paige’s presence, close, quiet, real — was enough.

“You’re quiet,” Paige murmured, lifting her head just enough to meet Azzi’s gaze. “You tired?”

Azzi gave a small smile and shook her head. “No. Just thinking.”

Paige propped herself on one elbow, studying her face. “About?”

Azzi hesitated, her expression thoughtful as her eyes traced Paige’s. “How different everything feels tonight.”

Paige nodded, her gaze warm. “Good different?”

Azzi’s smile deepened. “Very.”

Paige reached out, letting her fingertips drift along Azzi’s jaw. “I feel it too. Like tonight’s important. Bigger than just… a game or a hotel room. It feels like—”

“Like something’s shifting,” Azzi said, finishing the thought softly.

“Yeah,” Paige breathed. “Exactly that.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, quiet understanding suspended between them like something sacred.

Paige’s voice dropped. “Are you nervous?”

Azzi thought for a beat, then nodded gently. “A little. But not in a bad way. It’s the kind of nervous that means it matters. Because you matter.”

Paige’s heart tightened. She reached for Azzi’s hand and wove their fingers together. “You matter more than anything to me. You and Ruby. Everything that comes with you.”

Azzi’s chest filled with warmth. “That’s why tonight feels important. Because it’s not just… you know. It’s us.”

Paige nodded. “It’s always going to be us. No matter what we do tonight, or tomorrow, that doesn’t change.”

Azzi leaned in, her forehead resting lightly against Paige’s. “I trust you, Paige. With everything.”

The words sank into Paige like light into skin, quiet, warm, lasting. She stroked her thumb across Azzi’s knuckles. “I’ll never take that for granted. You and Ruby… you’re everything. I’ll protect that with everything I’ve got.”

Azzi’s eyes closed, the weight of the moment grounding her. “You already do.”

They stayed like that for a while, leaning into the stillness. Paige’s heart felt full, not overwhelming, not chaotic — just full. Like something had finally settled.

Eventually, she pressed a kiss to Azzi’s temple. “I just want you to feel safe. And loved.”

Azzi opened her eyes, gaze steady. “I do. Always, with you.”

Paige cupped her face gently, eyes searching hers. “Then… one more promise?”

Azzi leaned into the touch, nodding. “What’s that?”

“No pressure. No expectations. Tonight, we just love each other. That’s it.”

Azzi’s breath caught. She nodded, voice quiet but firm. “No pressure. Just us.”

Relief flickered through Paige’s chest. She pulled Azzi into a soft embrace, arms wrapping around her waist as Azzi melted into her, resting her head on Paige’s shoulder.

They held each other there, warm, steady, hearts aligned in quiet rhythm.

After a while, Paige shifted, brushing Azzi’s hair back. “Ready for bed?”

Azzi smiled, eyes kind. “With you? Yeah.”

Paige’s heart fluttered. She stood first, offering her hand wordlessly. Azzi took it.

They changed slowly, quietly, the air between them still. When Paige dimmed the lamp to a softer setting, the room glowed in gentle amber. Everything felt a little more intimate, a little more real.

Paige slid beneath the covers and looked up at Azzi, a silent invitation in her eyes. Azzi climbed in beside her, curling naturally into her warmth.

Paige pulled her close, arms circling her waist. Their bodies met easily, like puzzle pieces, the quiet heat of closeness radiating beneath the blankets. Azzi exhaled, relaxing completely.

“You good?” Paige whispered.

Azzi nodded, eyes closed. “Perfect.”

Paige let her hand trace slow lines along Azzi’s spine, light and grounding. Her chest swelled — not with nerves, but with reverence. For this moment. For Azzi. For the soft, steady love she felt building between them.

Azzi breathed in the rhythm of Paige’s touch, the quiet certainty of her presence. She felt adored. Protected. Chosen.

This wasn’t just another night. It was the quiet turning of a page, the beginning of something gently permanent.

When Paige leaned in and kissed her forehead, Azzi knew: this was the love they had waited for. And here, in this room, in this stillness, they had found it.

--------------------

The room felt gentle, quiet, and carefully hushed now, wrapped softly in shadows and warm, muted lamplight. Paige lay quietly, her fingers still tracing soothing circles along Azzi’s spine, their bodies pressed warmly together beneath the covers. Her heart was beating slowly but strongly, each quiet beat resonating softly in her chest, a tender rhythm echoing gently between them.

Azzi shifted slowly, gently tilting her head upward, eyes quietly finding Paige’s in the dim light. Something soft flickered behind her gaze, tender vulnerability, quiet trust, gentle anticipation. Paige felt her chest tighten, moved by the quiet emotion lingering in Azzi’s expression.

“You okay?” Paige whispered, voice warm, deeply sincere.

Azzi nodded, smiling faintly, voice low and breathless. “More than okay.”

Paige brushed a strand of Azzi’s hair behind her ear, studying her face, heart swelling with quiet tenderness. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not sure,” she said softly, her thumb brushing Azzi’s cheek. “I just want you to feel safe.”

Azzi’s heart fluttered. She reached out, fingertips brushing Paige’s collarbone, voice steady. “I feel safe. I want this, Paige. With you. Tonight.”

Paige’s breath hitched, warmth spreading through her. She cupped Azzi’s face, holding her gaze. “I want it too. More than anything. I want you.”

Azzi’s chest tightened, overwhelmed by Paige’s quiet intensity. She smiled and leaned in, pressing her lips to Paige’s.

Paige sighed into the kiss, fingers sliding into Azzi’s hair as she deepened it. Her touch was reverent, careful, exploring the warmth of Azzi’s lips, the rhythm of her breath.

Azzi shifted closer, aligning their bodies beneath the blankets, warmth spreading through her chest. Her hands settled at Paige’s waist, fingers tightening in the fabric of her shirt, her heartbeat picking up.

Paige shifted, gently guiding Azzi onto her back, her movements attentive. She broke the kiss and held Azzi’s gaze, searching for hesitation.

Azzi smiled faintly. “I trust you, Paige.”

Paige felt warmth bloom in her chest. She kissed Azzi’s forehead. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

Azzi nodded, voice low and sincere. “I know you will.”

Slowly, Paige brushed her fingers under the hem of Azzi’s hoodie and lifted it. Azzi’s breath caught, but she raised her arms to let Paige remove it.

Their eyes met, Azzi’s vulnerable and nervous, Paige’s full of awe. “You’re beautiful,” she said, voice tender.

Azzi’s cheeks flushed. Paige traced her bare shoulders, her touch soft and reverent.

Paige leaned forward, pressing kisses along Azzi’s collarbone, her lips exploring, warmth building. Azzi sighed, her body arching toward her.

Paige continued down her neck, fingertips brushing circles along Azzi’s ribs. Azzi’s breathing grew uneven beneath her attentions.

Azzi tugged at Paige’s shirt, the need rising between them. Paige sat up just enough to take it off, then leaned back in.

The feeling of skin-on-skin was electric. Paige kissed along Azzi’s jaw, her movements slow, deliberate, deeply focused.

Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck, heart fluttering beneath her ribs.

She kissed her way down Azzi’s neck, trailing lower until her mouth reached the soft swell of her chest. Azzi’s breath caught as Paige pressed her lips there, reverent and steady. Her hands slid down Azzi’s sides, grounding her, asking permission without words. Azzi’s answer came in a quiet arch of her back, a whispered “yes,” her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair.

Paige took her time, unhooking Azzi’s bra with care, then kissing every bit of newly revealed skin. Azzi gasped when Paige’s mouth closed around her nipple, pleasure hitting her like a wave. She felt bare in the most cherished way, seen, adored, loved.

“Paige,” she whispered, voice cracking.

“I’ve got you,” Paige murmured, moving lower, kissing over her ribs, her stomach, slow and sure, like she was charting a sacred path. Her hand slid to the waistband of Azzi’s shorts, and she paused, eyes flicking up.

Azzi nodded, parting her legs, her pulse quickening.

Paige eased the fabric down, revealing her inch by inch. The way she looked at Azzi like she was the most precious thing in the world made Azzi’s throat ache. There were no tears, though. Only heat. Only want.

Paige settled between her legs, parting her with care, and kissed the inside of her thigh. Azzi squirmed, breath catching, one arm flung over her eyes like she couldn’t bear being seen so fully. But Paige didn’t rush. She pressed her mouth to her, and Azzi cried out, her back arching, one hand diving into Paige’s hair, not to stop her, but to hold on.

Paige moaned softly at the taste, her tongue slow and deliberate, circling, teasing, learning. She listened to every breath, every shiver, and adjusted with precision.

“You taste so good,” Paige whispered into her, voice low and awed. “I could stay here forever.”

Azzi whimpered, hips rising, fingers tangling tighter in Paige’s hair.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Paige said, her voice like a balm. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Azzi was already trembling, heat building fast. “Paige—fuck—Paige—” she gasped, her voice unraveling.

Paige didn’t let up. She wrapped her arm beneath Azzi’s thigh and brought her other hand down between them. Two fingers found Azzi’s entrance, teasing until Azzi’s whole body tensed, waiting. Then Paige slid inside, slow and sure, her fingers curling just right.

Azzi let out a broken sound, her whole body lifting.

“That’s it,” Paige whispered. “Let me make you feel good.”

She worked her fingers in time with her mouth, every movement deliberate. Her free hand cradled Azzi’s hip, keeping her grounded.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” she breathed. “Falling apart for me.”

Azzi sobbed, trembling with intensity.

“I’m right here,” Paige whispered. “Come for me, Azzi.”

And Azzi did.

She arched, every muscle drawing tight before releasing all at once. Her cry cracked through the air, her body trembling as her orgasm washed over her in blinding waves. Paige stayed with her, riding it out, her mouth softening, her fingers slowing until Azzi was boneless and gasping beneath her.

Paige kissed her way back up her body, stopping to murmur praise against her skin.

Azzi lay stunned, breathless, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes, not from pain, but from being held like this. Loved like this.

Paige hovered above her, brushing hair from her forehead. “You okay?” she whispered, voice hoarse with restraint.

Azzi reached up, hand cradling her cheek. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

Paige kissed her, slow and soft, resting their foreheads together. “Do you want—?”

Azzi nodded before she could finish. “I want to touch you. I want to make you feel like that.”

Paige exhaled shakily, letting Azzi roll them over. The shift was slow and intentional, Azzi’s hand steady on her hip. For a moment, they just breathed together, entirely bare.

Azzi kissed her with a hunger that surprised them both. Her nerves were gone, melted in the heat of being wanted. Now she wanted to give it back.

She moved down Paige’s body, kissing across her chest, her stomach, whispering against her skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured. “So fucking good.”

When her mouth replaced her hand between Paige’s legs, Paige gasped, one leg over Azzi’s shoulder, fingers digging into the sheets.

Azzi licked her slowly, rhythmically, learning as she went. Paige’s voice rose in pitch, breath hitching with every stroke of Azzi’s tongue.

“Please—don’t stop, Azzi, please—”

Azzi didn’t. She slid two fingers inside, curling them the way Paige had, building a rhythm. Paige arched off the bed, a sharp cry ripping free as her orgasm hit—fast, raw, overwhelming.

Azzi stayed with her until Paige’s hand found her hair, tugging gently.

They collapsed together, bare skin against bare skin, breath evening out.

Silence stretched around them.

Eventually, Paige reached up and brushed her thumb across Azzi’s bottom lip. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover from that.”

Azzi laughed softly, burying her face in Paige’s neck. “I hope not.”

They held each other long after their breathing slowed, the world settling around them like something sacred had just been unlocked.

--------------------

The room had fallen into a deep, comforting quiet, the gentle glow of lamplight casting soft shadows along the walls. Paige lay still, breathing slow and steady, her fingertips trailing idle circles over Azzi’s shoulder. Azzi rested against her chest, eyes closed, her own breathing calm, content.

Paige’s heart felt full, tender and aching in the best way. She was overwhelmed by the quiet intimacy they had shared, the trust, the closeness, the way every moment had felt like a soft answer to something she hadn’t known she’d been asking. She wrapped her arms around Azzi a little tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, marveling at how this—this warmth, this stillness—felt like everything she’d ever hoped for.

Azzi shifted slightly, her eyes blinking open. She met Paige’s gaze with a soft smile, warmth lingering in the quiet expression on her face. Paige’s chest fluttered. Azzi looked peaceful, like she’d been carved out of moonlight and trust, and Paige didn’t want to look away.

“Hey,” Paige whispered, brushing her thumb across Azzi’s cheek, her voice low and full of something tender and protective. “You okay?”

Azzi nodded, her smile deepening, voice quiet but sure. “Perfect.”

The word hit Paige straight in the chest. She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and leaned in to kiss Azzi’s forehead.

“I was nervous,” she admitted softly. “That maybe I wouldn’t… do right by you.”

Azzi’s eyes softened. “Paige, you were… perfect. Better than perfect. I felt safe. And seen. Like it mattered.”

Paige exhaled again, this time steadier, her whole body relaxing into the words. “It mattered to me,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure you felt loved.”

“You always make me feel that way.” Azzi pressed her hand lightly to Paige’s chest, just over her heart, her fingers resting where it beat steady and strong.

Paige’s throat tightened. She pulled Azzi closer, letting their bodies fit together again in the silence.

“Tonight felt… bigger than I expected,” she said. “Like I didn’t realise how much I needed it. How much I needed you.”

Azzi’s breath caught. The rawness in Paige’s voice wrapped around her like a blanket. “I felt it too,” she whispered. “Like it wasn’t just physical. Like it was something deeper. Like… coming home.”

The words broke something open in Paige. Her fingers resumed tracing down Azzi’s spine, this time slower, more deliberate.

“That’s exactly what it felt like,” Paige said. “Home.”

Azzi tilted her head up and looked at her, eyes full of something close to wonder. “It’s strange,” she said softly. “I always thought home was just Ruby. My family. But now… it’s you, too. All of it. Completely.”

Paige’s throat closed up for a moment, overwhelmed. “I’ve never had a home like this,” she said. “Not one that felt like this. Not with someone who sees me. Not with a little girl who runs to me in pajamas. Not like tonight.”

Azzi touched her cheek gently, thumb brushing along her jaw. “I think you were always meant to find us.”

Paige’s breath caught, her voice breaking into a smile. “I think so too.”

Azzi leaned in then and kissed her. Not hungrily, not urgently, just slow, careful, and full of everything she didn’t have the words for. Paige returned it with equal care, letting it deepen for a moment, letting it say all the things they hadn’t spoken yet.

When they parted, they stayed close, foreheads touching, breaths shared. Azzi traced Paige’s collarbone with the tips of her fingers, her voice playful and warm.

“You know you’re stuck with us now, right?”

Paige let out a breath of laughter, eyes shining. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be stuck.”

Azzi grinned and nestled back down, her head resting on Paige’s chest. “Good.”

Paige combed her fingers gently through Azzi’s hair, slow and rhythmic, until the tension in their bodies had faded into something softer. They lay like that for a while, tangled in each other, suspended in the quiet.

It wasn’t just peace. It was something deeper. Something settled.

The intimacy of the night felt like a promise of more than just passion. It was a promise of presence. Of choosing each other again and again. Of building something from tenderness, from trust, from the way they both had arrived at this night carrying so much and still choosing to stay.

Paige knew then, with a clarity that sat warm and solid in her chest, that this wasn’t just love. It was belonging.

And Azzi, curled against her, knew the same. That something had shifted between them, quiet but irreversible. That what they’d made tonight wasn’t just about now.

It was about everything after.

So they held each other, silent and steady, heartbeats aligned like a quiet rhythm only they could hear.

--------------------

The morning they packed up to leave came quicker than either Paige or Azzi expected. Two days and nights had melted into one another, hours spent wrapped in shared intimacy and laughter, whispers exchanged under the dim glow of lamplight. As they stood in their hotel room zipping up their bags, Paige felt an ache settle low in her chest, reluctant in every quiet movement.

Azzi looked up, catching Paige’s gaze across the room. “You okay?”

Paige gave a faint smile, nodding. “Yeah. Just don’t really wanna leave.”

Azzi’s lips curved, warmth flickering in her expression. “Me either. But Ruby’s waiting.”

At the reminder, Paige’s heart lifted, her smile growing. “Right. That definitely helps.”

Azzi chuckled, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “She’s probably been waiting by the door since breakfast.”

Paige laughed as she stepped beside her. “Think she’s been bugging your parents all morning?”

“Without a doubt.”

Downstairs, the team had already gathered, voices tangled in playful chatter as they waited to board the bus. KK caught sight of them and raised her brows.

“Surprised you two remembered to come down at all,” she said, grinning.

Paige rolled her eyes, bumping KK’s shoulder. “Jealousy’s not a good look on you.”

KK bumped her right back. “Just admit you missed me.”

“Shockingly, I did.”

KK gasped, clutching at her chest. “I knew it.”

Azzi watched the exchange, a smile tugging at her lips. The past few days had softened something in Paige, her edges eased, her guard lowered. That quiet warmth she usually tucked away now sat comfortably on the surface.

The ride home felt shorter than the one there. The bus buzzed with inside jokes and laughter, the kind of energy only a win and shared exhaustion could bring. Paige leaned against Azzi’s shoulder, listening to her tell stories about Ruby’s latest toddler chaos, socks in the fridge, soap in the toilet, paint on the dog. Each story made Paige’s heart flutter, her mind already picturing the reunion.

When the bus pulled to a stop outside the practice gym, Paige pressed her hand to the window, peering out. Azzi’s parents were parked just beyond the curb, and Ruby was bouncing in place between them, Sparklehorn flapping wildly in her hand.

Azzi smiled and grabbed her bag. Paige was close behind, nerves giving way to anticipation.

“Mama!” Ruby shrieked the moment the doors opened, tearing across the pavement and launching herself into Azzi’s arms.

Azzi laughed, scooping her up and kissing her cheeks. “I missed you, baby.”

“Missed you more!” Ruby said, arms wrapped tight around her neck.

Paige watched from a few feet away, chest full. Then Ruby’s eyes landed on her, lighting up instantly. “Paigey!”

She wriggled out of Azzi’s arms and took off again, barreling straight into Paige. Paige crouched just in time, arms wide as Ruby collided with her.

“Hey, little monster,” Paige whispered, hugging her tight and kissing her curls. “Did you behave for Grandma and Grandpa?”

Ruby nodded seriously. “Yes. Sparklehorn too.”

Katie and Tim approached, smiles bright.

“You girls played beautifully,” Katie said, hugging Azzi, then Paige. “Ruby watched every minute.”

Tim chuckled and clapped Paige on the shoulder. “And narrated it.”

Paige laughed. “Did she critique my shot selection?”

Ruby nodded with great conviction. “Grandpa say too many points!”

Tim cleared his throat, eyes twinkling. “Constructive feedback only.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Sure, Dad.”

Around them, teammates began filtering off toward dorms and waiting rides. KK lingered a bit longer, waving at Ruby. “Hey, superstar. Did you keep Sparklehorn in check while Mama was busy scoring buckets?”

Ruby nodded gravely and held up Sparklehorn. “She watch game too.”

KK solemnly shook Sparklehorn’s hoof. “Outstanding work. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

Ruby giggled and wrapped her arms tighter around Paige’s neck. Paige adjusted her grip, holding her a little closer.

Azzi came up beside them, brushing her fingers along the small of Paige’s back. “We should get this monster home.”

“Yeah,” Paige said, heart tugging. She followed Azzi to the car, settling Ruby into her booster seat and clicking the straps into place. Ruby looked up at her with wide eyes.

“You come home too, Paigey?”

Paige’s breath hitched. She brushed Ruby’s cheek with her thumb. “Not tonight, Rubes. But really soon, okay? I promise.”

Ruby blinked, small but serious. “Promise?”

“Always.”

Paige shut the door gently, then turned to Katie and Tim. “Thanks again. For everything. And for letting me steal your granddaughter.”

Katie smiled. “You’re always welcome, Paige.”

Tim nodded. “You’re family now. Get used to us.”

Paige’s throat tightened. “I already have.”

Azzi lingered near the passenger side, watching her. Paige walked over, hesitant to say goodbye.

“You’ll call later?” she asked, voice soft.

Azzi nodded. “Of course.”

Paige stepped closer, leaned in, and kissed her. Not rushed. Not for show. Just a quiet press of meaning against her mouth. Azzi returned it with care, then gave Paige’s hand one final squeeze.

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Azzi slipped into the car, giving one last look over her shoulder before shutting the door.

Paige stood and watched as they pulled away, her heart both heavy and full. Behind her, KK slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Come on, Romeo,” she said. “Sparklehorn’s got your heart, but I need dinner.”

Paige laughed and let herself be guided toward the dorms. As she glanced back once more, a warmth settled in her chest.

This wasn’t an ending.

It was a quiet promise that everything that mattered—Azzi, Ruby, home—wasn’t behind her.

It was waiting just ahead.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconn wbb #wlw

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rainrot4me · 1 year ago

Text

Keep It Rolling

Summary: You and your friend decide to see if you can find ghosts in an abandoned asylum as you record the whole thing. When you run into Hoodie, he thinks it’d be fun to record you instead.

Characters: Hoodie x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Recording sex, bad blowjob, vaginal, threatening with a gun, pussy slapping, size difference, forcing, gagging, stretching, cream pie, size difference

Words: 3.9k

You spent your whole life filming everything.

It didn’t matter what. Eating breakfast, going to the store, hanging with friends, everything was caught on your little camcorder. You had an internet personality to keep up with and feeding your viewers your personal life was a hefty job. But you loved it.

So, of course, when your best friend messaged you about some supposedly haunted mental asylum twenty minutes off the interstate, you had to get it on camera.

The mid-autumn breeze blew through your hair as you and your friend packed your filming equipment into the back of your car, shutting the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat. The asylum wasn’t even an hour away. But as you sped down the interstate, it was like the whole atmosphere had changed. The clouds were dark, the wind blew leaves from the trees, and this ominous darkness loomed around you.

“Where did these rain clouds come from?” Your friend mumbled, scrolling through her phone and checking the weather which didn’t offer many answers. Brushing it off, you turned down an overgrown dirt road off the highway and searched for the building. If it did start raining, there was no way you were getting your camera out of the car. And if there was no camera, there was no reason for you to go inside. But as you drove further, an overgrown sign dangled on the side of the path. ‘State Asylum for the Mentally Insane.’ Charming. It was much farther after that that you could see the run-down building come into view, boarded up windows and patches of wall missing. The decorations of the building had all but disintegrated, but the foundation and skeleton of the building still stood strong minus the crumbling sections of walls. You pulled the car as close to the end of the path as you could before the overgrown plants stopped your path. Shutting the engine off, you sat and stared at the rolling clouds swarming overhead, judging if this was a good idea or not. Obviously, you knew it wasn’t.

“Shit, whole things coming down. Wonder how much longer it's got till it completely crumbles.” Your friends laughed, hopping out of the car and opening the trunk, slinging a bag full of voice recorders over her shoulder. “I hope we don’t find out.” You joked back, sliding to the back and grabbing your camera and backpack full of batteries and hard drives. The wind howled through the building, an eerie whistling noise echoing off the decaying walls that were visible from the outside. If you couldn’t find anything haunted in there, at least you’d get some good aesthetic shots. “I say we make a lap through the building and see if we can find any particular room that feels right to set up in. Y’know, see if it feels haunted.” They laughed, slamming the trunk shut and sauntering towards the entrance, a large dark door with shattered lanterns on either side. You flipped open your camera lens, filming a good shot of your friend shoving the door open and peeking inside. You quickly followed behind, skipping up the steps and peeking inside yourself.

The entrance was dark, furniture and paintings rusted with age and tossed around on the ground. Leaves and cobwebs accented the space, giving just the right amount of old and creepy as you filmed you both entering. The wind howled through the halls as you scanned each room, discovering abandoned medical supplies, facility rooms, and rows and rows of medical beds. All of it was caught on film, the dim lighting giving just the perfect balance with the soft glow of your flashlight. This had to get you views.

When you and your friend finally decided on a spot, a recreation room fit with a stage and tables, you set your audio recorders on the tables, little blinking lights illuminating the room as you pointed the camera. Your friend pulled out their flashlight, laying it on the table and flicking it on. You angled the lens, catching their face in the glow as they began to ask questions, the eerie quietness echoing their voice. “If there are any spirits here who are wishing to make themselves known, please do so now.” Silence. Besides the settling of the old floorboards, there wasn’t a movement or sound to be made. They tried again. “We’re here to do nothing more than talk. Please don’t be afraid to communicate.” Nothing again. You were growing impatient, switching your camera between your friend and the dormant recording devices, no lights signaling activity was being captured. Your friend groaned, holding out for maybe just some noise but ultimately flipping off the flashlight and scooping the recording equipment back into their bag. “Maybe we just picked a bad room. I want to try something though.” You flipped your camera shut, breathing deep and smelling nothing but mould and concrete. “And?”

They shuffled the bag onto their shoulder, shining their flashlight around the disheveled room. “I saw on some ghost channel they split up and went to opposite ends of their hospital and got a lot of activity. Apparently, ghosts like it when you’re alone.” They smiled, shuffling back to the hallway. “Sounds good to me,” It didn’t, but who were you to say no to some good content? “Walk to opposite ends of the building and meet back in thirty minutes?” You both nodded, turning away from each other as you trudged your way to the farthest end of the asylum.

You felt like you had walked forever, stepping down two flights of stairs until you ended up in what you assumed to be the basement. Random trash and unorganized medical equipment littered the floor but it was charming in a way, like the place was a relic of what it used to be. The damp air surrounded you, every step echoing off the concrete walls and recording beautifully as you flipped on your camera. Cobwebs hung in every corner, more afraid of running into one than running into an actual ghost, but content was content.

You set your camera on the ground, shining your flashlight at your face as you crisscrossed in front of the lens. The hall was silent, the dark corners sending chills up your spine as you couldn’t see past where your flashlight glow went. You settled yourself, breathing deeply before calling into the darkness. “If there are any spirits here who would like to communicate, please make yourself known.” Silence. The rhythmic dripping of water from the pipes offered some relief as you listened closely, but ultimately heard nothing. You sighed, trying again. “I am only here to talk. Please make yourself known.” Nothing still. It was relieving, sort of, praying internally that you’d find nothing as you stared into the camera’s lens. Shaking your head, you gave it one final attempt before you’d decide to head back upstairs. “If any spirits wa-”

That was when you heard it. The loud thud echoed from down the dark hallway. Fear shot through you, quickly aiming your flashlight but seeing nothing that could have made the noise. “Hello..?” You called, picking your camera up and directing it the same way. There was no response. But as you went to stand, a very clear sound of someone clearing their throat echoed. You scrambled to your feet, realizing this wasn’t going to be paranormal, but some squatter you’d accidentally run up on. Your hands were shaking but relentlessly keeping the camera trained on the hall, staring intently for any sign of motion. Deciding not to press your luck further, you quietly stepped towards the stairs, barely reaching the railing before you saw it. The tall figure of a man resting his shoulder on the wall beside you and staring straight at you.

A scream bubbled in your throat, panic building before he was on you in a second, his large hands shoving his over your mouth and holding your head still. You gripped your equipment tightly, panicking desperately as you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. That all stopped as soon as you felt the gunhead press against your ribs, nudging you to be compliant. “One word and I shoot.” He huffed, his deep voice reverberating against the walls. That’s when you could see him in the glow of your flashlight. He wore a ski mask that covered every feature of his face, but had a weird face drawn on. Tears rolled down your cheeks, realizing what a heap of trouble you were in. Whining, the man released your mouth but nudged the gun deeper into your rib, forcing you to the wall behind you. His gruff demeanor shakes you. “Explain yourself. Now.” He commanded, shoving the hilt further up. You panicked, quickly answering. “Uh- My f-friend and I came to see if we c- could find ghosts. I was making, uh, a video.” You cringed, holding the camera up as it was still rolling, capturing everything that had happened so far. The man jerked the camera out of your hand, examining it before tossing it to the floor, a whine escaping you as you watched it skid against the concrete. He leaned in close to your face, his breathing mumbled by the mask. “No ghosts, huh?” He towered over you, his large frame encapsulating you easily. You shook your head awkwardly, gulping as he pulled the gun from your side but quickly repositioned it under your chin, nudging it forcefully. “Sorry sweetheart, but I’m afraid this is as far as you’ll get.” He cocked the trigger, the noise sending a full-blown panic through you as you gripped his arm. “Please! Please- oh, God, I’ll do anything,” You huffed, tears pouring heavily. “Anything you want. Money, your dick sucked, food, anything!” You pleaded, face growing red as you shook with fear.

The man leaned back, pulling his finger off the trigger as he chuckled. “What was that second thing?” He smirked, resting his hand on his hip but not letting that gunhead leave your chin. You blushed roughly, your words betraying you as you just word-vomited something to save yourself. “I said anything.” You huffed, gritting your teeth as you felt the cold metal leave your skin, sighing deeply.

The man holstered his gun in the back of his jeans, sauntering over to your camera on the ground and scooping it up. He wiped it off, flipping the screen open before pointing it at you. You blushed, feeling awkward on the other side of the lens for once. He chuckled, stepping closer to you as he moved the camera to the side, staring at you directly. “Well?” He grinned, focusing his gaze back on the camera screen that captured your red face, the flash accentuating your features. His mask concealed his expression making you unsure if he was being serious or not, but you didn’t want to test those waters knowing full well he had a gun.

You awkwardly knelt in front of him, the concrete wall behind you cramping you. The truth was, you had no clue what you were doing. No boyfriends made their way around to lay you, so whatever you were about to pull out of your ass: your life literally depended on it.

You fiddled with his belt, sliding it open before nervously pulling the zipper of his jeans down. He wasn’t even half-hard in his boxers. You palmed at the bulge awkwardly, glancing up as the camera stared at you, his face peeking behind and watching you closely. Growing in your hand, you tucked your fingers under his boxers and tugged them down, his large cock barely bobbing out. It was awkward, but you took the length in your hands and slowly began to stroke, feeling it harden slowly. This was good. Nervousness pricked at your stomach as you licked at the tip. You slowly pressed the now hard length into your mouth, getting as deep as you could before pulling back. Slobber coated the length, gleaming in the flash of the camera. You leaned back in, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and taking the rest of what you could in your mouth. It wasn’t good and you knew it. Your teeth constantly scraped against his length. Not to mention any time the tip passed your tongue you were gagging back off of it.

He was growing impatient, the half-assed attempt at head making his head hurt. You felt his hand slink up the back of your head and grip a handful of your hair, slowly guiding your head back onto his cock. “Open wide.” He commanded, holding the camera lower to get a good shot. You hung your jaw lower, gripping his jeans quickly as you felt him press into your mouth further than you knew you could take. You gagged, straining to pull your head back but he wouldn’t let you, he just kept pushing your head further. You slammed your eyes shut, tears pricking as you wrapped your lips around the thick cock deep in your mouth. He finally pulled your head back, giving you a second to breathe before you snapped his hips back into your mouth quickly. You whined, throat choking as he thrust your head on his cock quickly. He held your hair tightly as he forced himself down your throat, practically face-fucking you and not giving you a second to adjust.

“Damn, you got a mouth on you, huh?” He huffed, shoving the camera closer to your mouth wrapping around him tightly. You groaned, eyes rolling as you gagged each time his cock pressed against the back of your throat. It was loud and vulgar, the wet sounds echoing off the walls. He refused to let up though, groaning as he held your head back. “There you go. Keep that throat open, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, pressing your head flush against him but not pulling away. You began to panic, gripping at his jeans as you choked, no air reaching you. He chuckled, cock throbbing in your mouth at the sound of drool gurgling in your throat. He finally pulled you off his length, a loud gasp escaping you as air filled your lungs. He pulled your hair back making you stare at the camera, your flushed face and slobber-covered lips shining brightly against the flash. “God…” He let go of your hair, pumping his cock into his hand before kneeling at your level. “Yeah, I’m not done with you.” He grinned, gripping your legs pulling them out from under you and landing you on your back. He crawled over you, nudging himself between your legs as he tugged at your shirt until it bunched above your bra. He hooked his fingers under the cups, pushing them up and exposing your tits. Hands were on them in a second, massaging and pulling at the mounds.

Your whines echoed as he pinched your nipples, pulling them roughly and kneading the buds in between his fingers. “You’ve got such a nice body sweetheart. I can’t wait to ruin it.” He scaled the camera across your body and shot your curves well. It was incredibly embarrassing.

He pulled his hands off your nipples, leaning back to set the camera on the ground and angle it between your legs, getting a good shot of your crotch. If anything, you were impressed with his familiarity with a camera. But the other half of you cringed as he unbuttoned your pants and slid them off your legs, giving the camera a clear shot of your damp panties. His fingers rubbed at the spot, his thumb pressing roughly against your clit and making you squirm. You reached down quickly, grabbing his wrist. That wasn’t going to happen. He immediately grabbed your wrists in return, pinning your hands above your head and relishing the way your body arched in defiance. “Calm down, huh? Relax…” He grinned, sliding your panties off your hips with his right hand and sliding his fingers up your folds, collecting your arousal. Pressing your legs open, he spread your folds the same, the cold air making your clit twitch. “Such a pretty cunt…” He groaned, spreading your lips and spitting against your hole, making you squirm.

He rubbed his fingers against your entrance, circling the area as you arched your back, silently begging for him to slide them in. That was when you saw his hand reach back and quickly slap down on your cunt, a sharp sting hitting you. You gasped, his hand slapping you again before you could even say anything. His palm continued to connect with your cunt, rubbing the area roughly before bringing his hand back to slap down again. You were a whining mess, every sting and slap making you so much wetter. The squelching sounds your cunt made every time his palm reached was embarrassing, your moans mixing and creating an insanely lewd noise. “God! Please…” You whined, squeezing your knees closer and trapping his hand against your cunt. He chuckled, giving in and pressing his fingers into your soaked entrance, a loud squelch echoing. You groaned, his fingers reaching deeply inside of you and curling just the right way. When he began to pump his fingers, it was all you could do not to scream your pleasure. Your throbbing clit ached as his fingers curled against your walls, each curl causing them to clench down. His thick fingers worked you open, your squirming body being easily held down by his muscled arms. Your orgasm came incredibly fast, your walls tightening around his fingers as they stretched your entrance wide and became soaked with your ecstasy.

He pulled his fingers out sharply and brought them to the hem of his mask as he slid it up just above his nose. He licked his fingers of your arousal, smiling at you as he took them down to the knuckle. Your eyes frantically glanced at the camera lens, the flash blinding you as you begged the battery would magically die and none of this would be recorded. No luck. “Damn sweetheart, you think that cunt’s ready for me yet?” He grinned, pulling his mask back down and wrapping his hands around your ankles, pulling you quickly to rest your thighs on top of his. His cock was twitching and angry, the head pulsing as he pumped it in his hands. He let it rest on your tummy. You glance down, head spinning as you realize just how big he is. “Oh, I’m gonna be in there.” He chuckled, releasing your wrists to scoop his hands under your hips and angle them up. He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance, leaning down to meet his face with your as he breathed deeply. “Try to not scream, yeah?”

Before you could question why, he slammed your hips down onto his length. The rough stretch and sting of him entering you so abruptly made you cry out, tears leaking down your cheeks. He didn’t wait. Either because he couldn’t or because he didn’t care. His hips snapped into you quickly, fingers digging into your bare hips as he forced your hips to connect with his. “Shit-” He was grunting with every thrust, heavily breathing behind the mask. Your moans and cries matched his, every nudge of his cock against your walls making your back arch and jaw hang open. It was dizzying. He was perched on his knees, holding your hips off the ground and fucking into you like some fleshlight.

Every tug at his hands and pull at his jacket went unnoticed as you clawed against him, trying your hardest to find some stability as your body was being rammed against. Your cunt throbbed with every squelch and slap, your walls constricting around the thick length invading inside of you. The camera caught it all, angled perfectly to see every inch of his cock sink into your cunt as he thrust quickly. It caught every lewd moan, every slap of skin. The tears were rolling down your cheeks, the sting and stretch of him mixing with the absolute pleasure slamming into you. “Fuck, so tight. Gonna milk me dry, sweetheart.” He huffed, repositioning for a split second before angling his hips up to ram into your g-spot. You screamed out, hand reaching for your clit as you rubbed in pace with his thrusts up into you.

That’s when he grabbed the camera, angling it down directly at your cunt as he sunk into you quickly. “Cum on my cock. Yeah, let me see it.” He moaned, shoving your hand out of the way to press his own fingers against your clit, rubbing quick and rough. You slapped your hands over your face, eyes rolling as you felt your orgasm rushing against you. The masked man was moaning louder, little whines escaping his lips as his own pace became sloppy. “Cum all over me, sweetheart.” He groaned. It sent you over, waves of pleasure crashing into you quickly as he refused to let off of your clit. You screamed out, arching your back against his fingers as he rubbed your orgasm out. Walls around his cock constricted, milking him as he held the camera close, the flash catching every drop of sweat and arousal that mixed on you. He bottomed out against you, moaning loudly as he released deep into your cunt.

The room went quiet apart from your panting. The camera caught it all, each pulse of his cock as he filled you full, your hands gripping tightly against his wrist as he held his thumb over your clit. He slowly pulled out, hissing as you felt the stretch of him. When his head popped out, he moved the camera down, catching every second as his seed leaked out of you. “Did so good sweetheart. Took me so good.” He huffed, sliding his fingers through your folds and spreading his release across your cunt, making you squirm. He pressed his fingers into your swallowed entrance, pressing his seed back in. When he pulled them out, he flipped the camera shut, turning the flash off and setting it back on the ground.

Finding your panties, he slid them back on you and relished as he watched them soak darker. He helped you button your pants back, pulling your shirt down and helping you stand. Handing you the camera, he laughed at your hazy expression, your heavy eyes and swollen cheeks evident of your fucked out cunt. “Thanks, sweetheart, now run along before I change my mind.” He huffed, turning back to the dark hallway and waving you off. “Good luck with your ghosts.” You nodded, frantically turning back to the steps and rushing up to the fresh air. It hadn’t been long, but as you listened closely and heard the sound of heavy rain, you trudged to the other side of the asylum and found your friend just as hopeless as you left them.

“Did you find anything? I had a whole lot of nothing.” They sighed, leading you to the entrance and out to the car as you tried to hide your equipment from the rain. “Nah. Nothing interesting.” You sighed, climbing into the driver's seat and speeding off back down the dirt path.

When you eventually made it home, you sprinted to your laptop and shoved the SD card in, loading up the video. Your hand covered your mouth as you watched the scene unfold, arousal growing in your pants again as you felt the leak of the masked man’s seed against your folds.

The video played through, every squelch and moan sending shivers through you as your hand slid down between your legs, rubbing lazily as you rewatched his cock sink inside of you.

You’d have to go ghost hunting more often.

Comments are reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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