#I’m not sure if there was a dream before that but if there was it might have stressed me out so bad I woke up.
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ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣’𝕤 ℝ𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟’ 𝔼𝕧𝕖 - ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕟 𝕆𝕟𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕥
+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘
𝙱𝚘𝚍𝚢𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
warnings: pet names, swearing, angst, fighting, rough touch, kissing, degradation, name calling, possessive!rafe, jealous!reader, protective!rafe, rough oral male receiving, gunplay, spanking, overstim, cum licking (floor), choking, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, teasing, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie, ownership kink, brat taming, no safe words
from this au if you want to read about the night they got together 🌹
📖 the reader has been secretly dating her bodyguard. During her NYE performance, she learned she’s not the only one he crossed the line with.
⭐ unedited ⭐
Reader's POV:
The backstage area is a whirlwind of costumes, stagehands, producers, and backup dancers. You eye yourself in the mirror, body hugged in a glittering black bodysuit with thousands of sequins that catch every stray light beam.
You should be basking in the excitement of a childhood dream come true—after all, millions of viewers are about to watch you perform a duet on New Year's Rockin’ Eve. But the second she walked inside, any excitement you might have felt went out the window.
Bella Dean.
She's the diva you're supposed to share the big closing number with: petite, curvy, absolutely stunning. Her talent is almost as big as her ego.
Bella’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “Look at you, baby,” she coos, sashaying up to you, flashing a smile that makes your stomach flip. “You okay? You look a little sick?” She asks, pouting her lip, her tone almost demeaning; clearly commenting on your appearance and not the state of your health–just being a fuckin’ bitch.
You fake a smile as your pulse spikes. “Sick?” You ask through a breathy laugh as you raise an eyebrow at her.
“Ill? Not feeling well? Under the weather? You don’t know what sick is?” She asks, returning a nasty laugh.
“I feel just fine. Thanks for your concern,” you reply, your face twisting slightly.
"Of course," she purrs. "I think my makeup girl’s around here somewhere… Maybe it’s just because you look a little dull. I’m sure she has some highlighter or something to add a little sparkle,” she adds a little extra sweetness to her voice at the end, her cruelty making you feel like you could lose your mind as you try to remain professional. Your fingers tighten around your microphone as you try to focus on what’s coming next instead of the 5’2” nightmare beside you.
She steps out just before your cue, hitting the stage first, looking back at you with a wink and a smug smile you wish you could hurl your mic at her face.
You take a calming breath, reminding yourself that this will be a few minutes. You have a whole night ahead of you to look forward to. A night with him… Rafe stands off to the side, looking devilishly handsome in his all-black suit. He folds his arms over his broad chest, looking into the crowd, eyes trailing the space as usual.
You turn back to Bella, your eyes finding hers, her ruby-red lips curling into a wicked smile, making a knot of unease tighten in your belly. She quirks her eyebrow, stepping closer; too close for your liking. “That bodyguard of yours…” she says, tipping her head toward Rafe, making her platinum blonde curls bounce. “I haven’t seen him in a minute.”
You fiddle with your microphone, trying to seem as unbothered as possible, but she sees right through you.
“Rafe?” She chirps, making your eyebrows shoot up as his name leaves her lips effortlessly. “Mhmm… Rafey. Ugh, don’t tell me he didn’t mention me,” she tosses her hair to the side. “I’m sure he had an interview. That wasn’t brought up?”
You purse your lips, look out toward the crowd, and try to distract yourself.
“Don’t tell anyone, but we did get a little cozy on my last tour,” she leans in, giddily gossiping like she’s talking to a friend, but we both know what she’s doing. How unprofessional of me, right?” she chides as she smiles out to the crowd, giving them her million-dollar smile before blowing them a kiss.
You feel your body tremble as the adrenaline of the night and this admittance courses through your veins. Rafe did mention he’d once made a mistake by getting involved with a past client, but he never mentioned a name–her name. You swallow hard, clearing the lump in your throat as your mind starts spinning out, thinking of what the two must have done behind closed doors.
“That doesn’t sound like Rafe,” you assure.
“So you didn’t know. Ouch.” She flicks her gaze toward him again. “Doesn’t sound like you’re working the man to his full potential.”
You bite your cheek, lips tightening as you try to hold back your outburst. “Well, if you are and you don’t kiss and tell, just know he has a habit of getting too close. I just want you to be careful,” she pouts again, her voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard as the band starts to play around you.
And with that, she glides away, leaving you breathless and seething as she walks to the front of the stage. Your cheeks burn as you glance at Rafe from the wings. He catches your eyes with a concerned expression–the man no doubt reading your emotion like a book. Even though he has no idea what the fuck just happened, he knows something’s off with you. His eyebrows pinch together, beautiful features hardening.
Bella and Rafe? I can’t fuckin’ handle this right now.
The crowd roars excitedly as Bella’s voice pours out of the speakers. Your heart bangs with the opening beats of the song. You look toward the camera as it pans to you, forcing a smile. Your voice wavers as your anxiety gets the better of you–Bella looking toward the wings at Rafe as well, painting a picture of what their exchanges might have looked like in the past, her stealing little glances at him from center stage instead of you.
The lights sweep over you, and the first note leaves your lips. Your muscles tighten as the pitch wavers, just a hair off, but it’s enough for Bella to shoot a look back at you. Your stomach aches, heartbreaking, as you feel yourself starting to fumble while Bella shines. You push harder–the melodies leaving your lips sounding anything but natural.
Bella steps forward, delivering her verse perfectly, making the crowd scream. Her eyes twinkle as she passes you, making your blood boil. You lose track of the music for a split second, coming in a beat too late, making the blonde smirk in your peripheral vision. Fucking cunt.
You take a deep breath with the guitar break, straining to gather your emotions, trying to remind yourself of the night and how you’ll hate yourself if you let her ruin it for you. You turn toward her, melting your voices together in perfect harmony. The tension between you is thick, but it doesn’t read that way–the crowd, eating up every second of the duet.
The music cuts and the crowd goes wild. Bella moves toward you for the planned hug, but you step away and wave to the crowd. As she waves, you feel her arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in for a half-hug. Bella leans in, looking up at you, feigning concern. “You were a bit shaky. Are you okay?”
“Fuck off,” you hiss through a gritted smile to the crowd.
She gasps surprisedly before resting her head on your shoulder. “Don’t be upset, babes. Let me know if you are ever in the market for a new bodyguard. I always find the best ones,” she winks. “Have a happy New Year.”
You resist the urge to run, walking off the stage gracefully before storming toward your manager, taking your purse off her hands before snapping your focus to Rafe. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was Bella you messed around with, huh?” You hiss, quiet enough to meet his ears only as you glare at him.
“This isn’t the right place,” he warns as he looks through you even still, eyes scanning the crowd.
“No, Rafe,” you snap. “This is the perfect fucking place. I just found out about your little fling from Bella. Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Rafe steps closer, looking you in the eyes, making you draw a little breath. “Not now.”
“Forget it,” you scoff, and before he can stop you, you flee the scene, disappearing into the thick crowd of backstage traffic. You walk through the double doors, looking to the left at the long line of dressing rooms before taking a risk, pushing through the side door.
The winter wind whips as you walk through the tight, dark alley, heels clicking against the asphalt with each step as you head toward the main street. Fans and paparazzi push in around you, yelling your name, but you keep your head down, pushing ahead.
You look down the block, knowing your hotel is close, but how close? You shove through the thick crowd, still waiting to get into the venue. The middle of the road is packed, too, with a barrage of people gathered, waiting for the ball to drop. You lift your eyes for a moment. Halfway there… You cross your arms tighter around your waist, trying to keep warm while holding yourself back from answering the phone vibrating like crazy in your purse.
Silence.
You sigh in relief as you walk into the swanky downtown hotel. The noise behind you falls away. The lobby's hush and glamor starkly contrast what’s happening on the other side of the revolving door—velvet chairs, marble floors, and the soft golden glow of chandeliers hanging overhead.
You draw a deep breath and blow it out slowly, looking to your left. Your head hangs with mental exhaustion as you step toward the hotel bar, pushing through the door before heading toward the rail.
You order your drink, asking for a double, hearing your voice tremble with anger and stress. You stare at your reflection in the barback's mirror, your makeup perfectly done, stage outfit on; your hairstyle to perfection, but that was just a facade. You felt far from perfect underneath–completely broken.
Rafe seems so poised and professional. It was so hard to break his icy exterior…
As childish as it sounds, you felt special. He seemed so untouchable that when you were able to break through, you felt like maybe there was something different about you.
He didn’t seem like someone who would sleep with his clients, and now you can’t help but think just how many people he had took care of like he was taking care of you.
Bella… What if it wasn’t special, though? What if it was just a one-time thing–a fling, and Bella was trying to get in your head? You grab your drink, lifting it to your lips, downing half of it fast, letting it sear your throat, trying to numb your thoughts.
She wanted this to happen. You hated yourself for letting her affect you the way she did. The truth is, she saw you fall apart in front of her, catching every missed step and note; each misstep was a win for her.
The bar is quiet, the low roar of the New Year’s celebration humming outside. The soft jazz piano swells in the background, paired with the soft conversations of the guests dressed to the nines. No one bats an eye at your arrival; no one asks for anything from you, letting you sit for a moment and breathe.
“Sir!” You hear the shrill call of someone from the lobby. A sudden commotion on the other side of the door pulls you out of your peace as Rafe storms in. He looks down at his phone, eyes scanning from left to right. Your heart falls as he zeros in on you, his nostrils flaring with anger, contrasting with the look of relief in his striking blue eyes.
He sucks his teeth, holding himself back from cursing you out on sight. His Gucci suit jacket is half undone, his toffee-colored hair mussed, and his sharp jaw is set in a straight line. He looks fuckin’ angry, completely winded, like he's been fighting through thick crowds, going to Hell and back to get to you. Good. Let him be angry. Why should I have to suffer alone?
Rafe makes a beeline for you, his long legs crossing the room in a few strides. The bartender walks over, asking how he can serve him, his voice quickly fading as he sees the look in Rafe’s eyes. Your bodyguard thumbs through his wallet, slapping $100 on the counter before grabbing your arm.
“We’re leaving,” he hisses, tugging you off the barstool. You gasp, your unfinished drink sloshing onto the floor as he steers you back toward the exit.
You yank your arm back, disregarding the curious glances around you, shooting daggers at your brooding bodyguard. “You don’t get to boss me around right now,” you hiss as you fight him off, but it only makes his fingers twist a little tighter around your arm.
“Once wasn’t enough?” He snarls.
“Spare me the lecture,” you sass. “M’not in the mood for you —fuckin’ drama queen.”
Rafe leans in, his warm breath hitting your skin as he pulls you toward the elevator. “Do you have any fucking idea how reckless that was? Runnin’ out there alone on the busiest night of the year? In the busiest city? Are you insane? And you’re alone-”
“Did I look alone?” You snap as you lift what’s left of your drink. “Didn’t pour this shit myself,” you laugh tauntingly before shooting it back.
He scoffs annoyedly as his grip on you tightens even more. “So you’d rather run away and have somethin’ awful happen to you, risk my whole fuckin’ career than talk to me about what you found out?”
“Correct,” you clip. “Now, let go of me.”
“Let’s make a deal, tough girl. You can get outta my fuckin’ grip, then you can go. I happen to like you... I’m not some insane stalker who wants to wear your fuckin’ skin. Aight? It ain’t safe out there for you, and for some reason, you think that your best option is to run,” he hisses as he bangs his fist against the up button.
The elevator door glides shut, leaving the two of you alone. You both stand next to each other, seething for different reasons. Rafe tosses your arm away when you fight against him one last time, making you push out an exaggerated breath.
Elevator music fills the space around you, so light and cheery it’s almost satirical at the moment. You stand side to side with your bodyguard, arms crossed over your chests, both of you waiting for the other to break.
“You have no right-”
“Run off again, and I swear to fuckin’ Christ,” he cuts you off.
“You wouldn't be mad? Really?”
“‘Course I would be. I'd be fuckin’ irritate, but I’d wait ‘til I got back to the hotel to say somethin’ like a fuckin’ adult. Not run away like a goddamn child-”
“I’m not-”
“A child,” he cuts you short, finishing your sentence as he turns toward you, his voice low and lethal. “You’re not a fuckin’ kid. Aight? You’re a grown-ass woman. Start actin’ like it before you get yourself hurt.”
You turn toward his chest, too, and look up into his eyes, not backing down. “You told me you once crossed a line with a client but never said it was her. She wasn't even mentioned on your resume, Rafe. Why was that?” You ask breathily, letting your defiance and disgust bleed through.
“That shit doesn't change the fact that that was a bad decision, princess,” he returns your same tone, that term of endearment he loves to use coming out as anything but endearing.
“Let’s talk about good decisions, Rafe. Her? I'm questioning you and your fuckin’ taste level. Bella is a cunt. It would have been nice to know this before sharing the stage with her so I could have been prepared for her bullshit instead of being blindsided and ruining that moment for myself.”
“Ruining your moment? What the hell are you talking about?” He asks in disbelief. “Your performance was perfect.”
“The fuck it was, Rafe,” you scoff as you step out of the elevator without him. “Your performance was perfect,” you mock him. “Bella’s performance was perfect, Rafe… And tomorrow, when there’s a review on Rolling Stone, maybe you’ll get it through your thick fuckin’ head.”
Rafe runs his fingers through his hair; frustration etched into every line on his handsome face. “Baby,” he mumbles as he softens his tone and closes the space between you and him. “I screwed up by not tellin’ you before tonight. M’sorry. But you can’t keep runnin’ off when you’re mad. I’m your bodyguard; I have to protect you whether you like me or not.”
You wave your keycard in front of the door handle, rolling your eyes at his apology, if you could even call it that. “Well, Rafe… Maybe you should be better at protecting your secrets,” you grumble, going to shut the door behind you, but Rafe clutches it tight, pushing against you with minimal effort, making you growl in frustration. You toss your clutch onto the sofa, kick off your heels in protest, and rip off your earrings for dramatic effect.
"You lied by omission, Rafe. You said you 'made a mistake' once with a client but never told me it was Bella. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?”
He sighs as he strips himself of his jacket, tossing it off before loosening his tie. “Jesus Christ, baby. I was gonna tell you. Just not right before you had to perform with her."
"How considerate,” you breathe, your sarcasm palpable, making his cheeks flush with anger.
“Bella is toxic-”
“No shit,” you laugh.
“She'll do anythin’ to get under your skin-” he starts.
“Jesus, Rafe! Tell me something I don’t fuckin’ know!”
“I screwed up with her, yes… But do you know how long ago that was? That was at the start of my career. I was still tryin’ to figure shit out. I was young-”
“So, is this a serial thing for you, Cameron? Or am I an exception?” You ask, with a lifted brow as you pop open a bottle of De Venoge Louis, eyes shifting over to him. “Just another one of your favorite pop stars?”
“Enough,” he groans tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he paces the room. “You know that's not how I see you… You gotta stop.”
“And how do you see me?” You ask. “I know how I see you…” You mutter, foregoing the glasses altogether, lifting the bottle to your lips instead.
“Not gonna tell you how I feel right now.”
“What the hell does that mean,” you laugh, dribbling champagne on your chin as you look up at him, fluttering your lashes in confusion.
“Because you’re actin’ irrational. This is not the time.”
“Stop telling me that it’s not the time, Rafe. Oh my god,” you whine, voice brimming with frustration.
“I get that you’re upset,” he scolds. “But runnin’ off into the city alone after a show and putting yourself at risk like that over Bella Dean was fuckin’ stupid, regardless, and you know that. Come back here… And lose your shit. Hell, you’re yellin’ at me right fuckin’ now. Only difference is you’re safe.”
“Sorry for makin’ you do your job, Rafe.”
He nods his head, a look in his eyes like he’s going absolutely insane. He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps flexed, looking like it could tear the fabric apart. “N’to be clear. Chasin’ you is my job?”
“Dunno. Wasn’t at the job interview… Not quite sure what your scope of work was, but I assume the details of your job didn’t include sleepin’ with me either-”
“You’re begging for trouble, you know that?” He shouts, his loud voice hitting your chest hard, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.
“M’Terrified,” you giggle, trying to hide your nervousness as your heart rate starts to climb. His eyes narrow on yours–a mix of anger and something darker.
He walks over, looking down at you perched on the velvet lounge chair. You gasp as his hand comes around your throat, his grip tightening and tightening. He lifts you to your feet, pulling you chest to chest. “Keep talkin’ back and see what the fuck happens.”
You look at him with dead eyes, seemingly unimpressed by his threats, letting your eyes roll in the back of your head. Rafe tightens his grip a little more, making you sputter out a breath.
“Keep rollin’ those eyes at me, too, while we’re at it,” he growls. “You think I won’t give you a lesson?”
Adam's apple bobs in his throat, lip snarling as you refuse to submit. Rafe yanks you forward, crushing his lips against yours in a deep, desperate kiss. You go to shove him away, but his fingers find your hair, twisting into the strands, tugging you closer, forcing you in place. The air leaves your lungs as he shoves you into the wall, never breaking your kiss.
When he finally tears his lips away, you’re both breathless, chests heaving, longing for more.
“You’re fuckin’ impossible,” he rasps, blue eyes blazing with lust, his rasp voice taut and hoarse. “Run off, you don’t fuckin’ listen, and then you come back here and pick stupid fuckin’ fights, spoutin’ off shit we both know ain’t true.”
“Maybe you deserve it, Rafe. Did you ever think about that-” Rafe silences you with another kiss–more longing and possessive than the last. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him into your lips.
Rafe breaks away again, leaving you chasing his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you panting into each other, desperate for more.
“I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” he whispers, voice vibrating with tension. “Next time you try this shit, just know I’ll chase you down. Next time you roll your fuckin’ eyes at me, I’ll pin you where you stand. You can’t keep doin’ this shit without consequences.”
Your heart pounds in your ears, pussy pulsing as you listen to all of his threats– his words honestly having the opposite effect. Looks like he’s the one begging for trouble.
“Fuckin’ do it, Rafe,” you dare him, smiling against his lips, “you think I'm scared of you?"
“Think you're braver than you should be, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, Rafey? You gonna punish me?” You ask.
“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” he says, firm and cold, making goosebumps spread across your body. He leans in, pinning you against the wall, pressing his big body into you. Rafe kisses along your neck, teeth scraping your ear. “Don’t even think we have a safe word. Do you?” He asks, and you can hear that crooked smile in his voice.
“N-No,” you whisper, trying to recall, but you honestly don’t think you could at this moment, the way his body surrounds you, his rich cologne clouding your senses completely.
“Shit, baby… Guess you’re outta luck.” You gasp as he picks you up off your feet, slinging your body over his shoulder. “Maybe if you start behaving-” Crack! He slaps your upper thigh harshly, making you scream. “Maybe we can think of one together, hmm?”
Rafe throws you down on the bed, making the last bit of air in your lungs escape. He strips himself out of his button-down shirt, quickly working himself out of his pants before tossing his belt and gun onto the bed.
“Wh-What are you gonna do with those?” You ask, hearing your voice tremble.
Rafe clears the space between you, lowering his hands on the mattress as you look wide-eyed at him.
“Aww, princess… You know me. I love leavin’ out little details,” he smiles wickedly.
Rafe grabs the front of your bodysuit, tearing the delicate material open effortlessly, sending rhinestones and beads flying onto the bed and the hardwood floor as he tears away the custom piece without batting an eye. He pulls the material down your thighs, tossing it to the floor before grabbing your hips, manhandling you to your belly on the bed, your ass in the air, and your feet on the floor.
“FUCK!” You scream as his big hand comes down, slapping your bare ass, leaving behind a tingling sensation. Before you can even react, he does it a second time, then a third, making tears pool in your eyes and wetting the mattress. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“The fuck was that, tough girl?” He asks through a breathless laugh.
“I-I… Fuck you,” you whimper, trying to stand strong. Rafe grabs a fistful of hair, yanking you back, his head lowered to match your eyes.
“Fuck me? You told me to do this shit, baby girl… You’re the boss. I’m just doin’ my job.” Rafe uses his hold on your hair to push your face into the mattress, pushing two thick fingers into your soaked core. “Listen up, princess,” Rafe huffs. “You deserve this. I’m not gonna put up with this shit, aight? You’re lucky I’m even fuckin’ touchin’ you.” Rafe pumps his fingers in your pussy, finger-fucking you mercilessly as you try your best to wiggle away. “Stop squirmin’,” he chides. “Hands behind your fuckin’ back.”
The second you do, Rafe grips the against your lower back, the palm of his hand clapping against your ass as he fingers stroke your G-spot. Your thighs start to tremble, pussy tightening around his big fingers. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moan.
“Yeah? You wanna cum?” He taunts.
“Please,” you whisper.
“Think it’ll fix that little attitude of yours?”
“Yes, fuck!” You cry.
“I’m not sure it will…” Rafe sighs sadly. “I’ll let you cum tonight. But I swear if this shit happens again. M’not… Not until you’re at my hotel door beggin’ and cryin’ for my dick like a whore.” Rafe pulls his hands out of your soaked cunt, slapping your pussy fast and tough, making you cum hard, sobbing as your pussy flutters around nothing, your hands still pinned tightly against your back. Rafe fucks his fingers into your cunt, darting them inside you at an insane pace, and seconds later, you’re coming again, pussy gushing around his hand, landing on the floor with a little splash.
And even then, he doesn’t stop, his fingers just sopping through the mess as you fight against him, crying in overstimulation and pleasure. “Rafe, please. Please. Please.”
“What?” He spits.
“I-I… Mphff… Safe… Safeword,” you hiccup.
He booms out a laugh. Drawing both his hands back in surrender. Completely mocking you and the mess he made of his favorite girl. “You’re kiddin’ me?” He teases as he rests his hands on the bed, lowering himself to your ear, his chest brushing against your bare back. “Safeword?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you pant. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Jeopardizing my job, your life, our fuckin’ relationship over a bitch then means nothin’ to me. That’s the least you should be,” Rafe scolds as he grabs your hips, rolling you to your back.
You look between your thighs, eyes following Rafe as he reaches for his gun. He lifts it, making a show of it, eyeing the weapon in his hand. Your eyes fall down his body, watching his muscular chest rise and fall with his rapid breathing, his gold chain glinting in the dim. The ridges of his abs deepen with every level breath, his hard cock tenting out the fabric of his white Calvins, leaving you craving him even more.
He clicks on the safety, lifting the gun, pointing it at your pussy, slapping the piece against your inner thighs. “Spread your shit,” he mumbles. You widen your thighs on the mattress, your glossy cunt dripping with your arousal. Rafe presses the cool muzzle against your pulsing clit, making your muscles jump and your thighs drawn in. “I said ‘spread your shit,’” he shouts, making you flinch. “What’s it gonna take for you to listen? Huh?”
“I’m sorry, baby. I-”
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Daddy,” he mocks your fucked-out voice again. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” Rafe repeats your words from the fight as he starts to rub little figure eights on your clit. Your body trembles with adrenaline as he continues to work you over with his handgun. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak. “You gonna cum… off a gun? You that big of a slut, princess? You don’t even need a dick?” Rafe mumbles, and right when you’re about to fall apart below him, he pulls it away, leaving you whimpering and fussing for more, your bottom lip wobbling as you look up into your boyfriend’s beautiful, cruel eyes.
“Rafe, you’re being mean…” You whisper, your voice barely above a hush. “I said, ‘I was sorry’.”
“And, I told you not to run away again… N’look what happened. Get on your knees.”
You climb off the bed, stumbling slightly from your weak knees. You land on the floor, crawling the rest of the way to Rafe, glassy-eyed and pouty-lipped. You kneel before him, watching as Rafe lifts the gun slightly, mirroring his dick, the tip of it coated with your slick.
“Suck it.”
Your heart starts to race as you look down the barrel of the gun. You look up at Rafe as you wrap your lips around the end of it, feeling your heart bang in your chest.
You take the cold metal to the back of your throat, taking as much as you can get, gagging around his weapon, sucking it clean, bobbing back and forth with your eyes on him. Rafe looks down at you hungrily, desperately wanting your lips on him and giving him the same service.
“Take ‘em off,” Rafe mumbles, and you slide your wet lips off the gun, racing to pull down his boxers fast. And without warning, he shoves himself in your mouth, pushing as far as his dick would go making you sputter and gag. You reach out, grabbing his tights, squeezing tightly, losing all vision as your eyes fill with tears.
You blink your tears away as he slides in and out of your swollen lips, grunting and moaning, using your mouth like a toy. The sounds around you were downright pornographic, making your pussy weep down your thighs. Your mouth leaked as well, saliva and precum dripping out of the seam.
Rafe finally pulls you off his cock, leaving you gasping for a breath. Before he can give you a command, you wrap your lips around him again in a desperate attempt for mercy, swirling and sucking him off just like he loves. You cradle his heavy balls in your hand, and he throats his hand back to the ceiling, a broad smile spreading on his perfect lips. “Atta girl… Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he praises.
You bob your head back and forth, stroking where your mouth won’t reach, trying desperately to please him. You can feel his cock throb and swell on your tongue, his breathing quickening by the second.
“Better swallow it all, princess, or we’re gonna be back at square one,” he mumbles, only half-kidding. He looks down at you, watching you throat him with all you have, his plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
Rafe pulls out of your mouth, jerking his cock in your face as you lay out your tongue. His warm cum shoots out of his tip, coating your lips and tongue. Your eyes flutter open as you swallow it all, licking your lips to clean up the rest of the mess as you look up at him.
He clicks his tongue, letting his gaze fall, eyeing a few loose pearls of cum decorating the floor. You rest your hands on the hardwood, lowering yourself to lick it up.
“Fuck, princess,” he moans as he looks down at you in lust and adoration. Rafe reaches for you, pulling you off the floor and into his strong arms. You wrap yourself in his, dressing your arms around his neck as his lips press against yours for a tender kiss.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper.
“I’m sorry, princess,” he soothes. “No more punishments. Alright? You took that shit like a good girl. Let me take care of you, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me… This right here—this is what I’ve been wantin’ to do all night.”
“Yeah?” You ask breathily, pecking at his lips.
“You kiddin’ me?” He chuckles as he lays you down on the bed, burying himself in his neck before kissing his way up to your ear. “Just wanted to take care of you. Make you feel good. Hard to think about much else when I see you up there. Can barely focus on keepin’ you safe when I’m just thinkin’ about fuckin’ this perfect pussy,” he mumbles as he slaps his tip against your clit.
Rafe slides his cock between your drenched folds, swirling his head around your hole before sinking in deep, bottoming you out with his long, thick dick. You grab two fistfuls of sheets as he grabs your hips in his big ringed hands, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in.
“So good, baby… Fuck. Damn, you look so good takin’ my cock,” he moans as he starts rutting in and out. You couldn’t even get a word out with the way his dick was slamming in and out of your pussy.
Your eyes roll back in your head, boobs bouncing with each thrust of his hips as you go absolutely dumb on his dick. Rafe speeds up the pace, making your body tremble uncontrollably. Tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks, wetting the pillow below. Rafe reaches down, brushing them away with his thumbs, slipping one between your lips to let you suck yourself numb as he drills into you.
“Come on, princess,” Rafe hums as he feels your body start to tighten around him. “Cream all over my cock. Show me what a good girl does, huh? Let me fill you up. Been so good for me,” he groans as he reaches down, rubbing circles on your throbbing clit as the coil in your belly gets tighter and tighter.
You scream his name, cumming all over his big cock as he fucks you through your orgasm. Rafe gives you a few more rough thrusts, emptying his load deep inside as his hungry lips devour yours, swallowing your whimpers and cries.
“You okay, baby?” He asks sweetly against your lips.
“M’perfect, Rafe,” you coo.
“You are,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “You mad at me still?” Rafe asks as he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.
“No,” you whisper. “Can’t stay mad at you, baby.”
“Mhmm… I know the feelin’,” he laughs. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. You snag your phone out of your nightstand, pulling out your phone, seeing back-to-back messages from your manager.
Claire Baby: Rafe said you were ok. Stop running away. Thnx.
Claire Baby: Rafe mentioned that there was a history between him and Bella
Claire Baby: I told him to save it til after the show so it didn’t fuck with your chemistry
Claire Baby: I had no idea she was such a bitch. I’m sorry. Pls Forgive me.
“Rafe Cameron,” you sigh.
“Mhmm…” He asks as he pulls out of your pussy nice and slow, watching his warm cum leak out of your puffy hole, swirling his fingers around before stuffing it back inside.
“Rafe…”
“What?” He asks as he tilts his head slightly, lifting his fingers for you to suck them clean. You wrap your lips around his fingers, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you tried to say something?” You ask softly as you look back up at him.
“‘Cause I deserved it… Shoulda told you from the start,” he answers. “No more secrets…”
“No more running,” you whisper.
You roll your head to the side, catching the time on the clock. 11:58 PM… Rafe kisses your cheek lovingly, wrapping his big body in yours. “How do you see me, Rafe,” you ask softly, pulling his focus back to your eyes. He brushes your hair off your face, cupping your cheek in his hand.
“Well, when I see you, I see the future. I see my dream girl. I see the only thing I want to see.”
You bite your lips, fluttering your lashes, the night's emotions getting the better of you.
“I see the woman that I love, princess.”
“You love me?” You whisper, voice laced with tears.
Rafe pulls you into his lips as the world outside the window roars with the new year, the clock striking midnight as your lips meet, your bodies tangled in sheets.
“Of course I love you, baby,” he mumbles.
“I love you too.”
tags: @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @nemesyaaa @littlelamy @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush @bloodibambiidoll @laniirackssss @jkrafe @wtfdudesblog @alejstarkey @rafe-cameronswife @rafedaddy01 @st8rkey
#rafe cameron#rafe#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafecore#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader smut#rafe fanfiction#bodyguard!rafe#bodyguard rafe#older rafe cameron#older!rafe#older!rafe cameron#rafe x female reader#rafe x me
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 8] Bargain
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
*happy new year🫶
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky
There’s been a mood shift in the room. You weren’t cheery before per say, but you definitely weren’t like this. It feels as if the place has shifted from a warm orange hue to cold blue.
Perhaps it was always like this and he didn’t notice. He’s come to see you in a different light after you announced that you didn’t care for the babies. He shouldn’t care if you want the babies or not, as long as you nurture them when they’re born– Yet, he can’t help but dwell on the thought.
“Are they kicking?” Sukuna asks, watching as you slowly eat the food that’s in front of you. Maybe things look more drastically different since his perspective of you has changed, but some things are absolutely different. You’re barely talking.
Sukuna is trying to make conversation with a woman for fuck’s sake. A woman is only good for having sex in his eyes, he shouldn’t be trying to make conversation.
“No.” You answer as you continue to quietly eat your dinner.
“You’re going to give birth soon, no?” He questions and you shrug. You’ve lost track of time. Winter has just begun… Or is it ending soon? Days all seem the same that you’ve lost track of time. You’re due sometime in the spring, that much you know. “Will you use your words?”
“How do you want me to respond? I don’t know, my dear king?” You respond and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t like the hint of attitude that comes with your words. But there’s something Sukuna knows: beggars can’t be choosers, therefore he won’t reprimand you for speaking to him like that.
“The servants are working on clothes for them.” Sukuna announces, and you don’t react in any way. It’s fine, he didn’t expect you to. Though he won’t lie and say that he isn’t looking at your face to see some sort of excitement at the mention of the babies. He doesn’t know why, but he wants you to get excited about them.
“I’m finished. May I go to sleep?” You question, as you try to get up from your seat– A true struggle lately considering your belly is huge.
“Since when do you care to ask for permission?” He replies, and he’s met with a cold glare.
“I’m your prisoner, am I not?” You respond, and Sukuna realizes that your recent behavior is all tied back to that.
You’ve been having nightmares lately, and it becomes hard for Sukuna to ignore. It’s every night, and he isn’t sure what to do. At first he would simply watch you as you helplessly tossed and turned, but lately they’ve gotten more intense. Sukuna can’t stand and watch.
He’s growing soft, he knows he is. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be holding you to his chest, hand caressing your back. He needs you to rest enough, and that’s not possible if your nightmares get the best of you. If you’re tossing and turning, calling out for help then you’re not resting.
He wants to know the root of the bad dreams, but he doesn’t care enough to look into the issue. He doesn’t mind this position though, holding you is like holding a little warm ball. He’d never say it outloud, but he’s cold; he won’t shiver or tremble, but he’s still cold.
“Sukuna.” He’s falling asleep, but your soft voice wakes him up. “What are you doing?”
“You have nightmares.” He informs you, as if you were unaware of your own dreams. Is this why you haven’t been waking lately? Has he been comforting you?
“I’m sorry.” You feel the odd need to apologize, something that irritates Sukuna’s ears. It ends up with him scolding you,
“You don’t ever apologize.” Which is quickly followed by another apology from you. He can’t win with you, and it’s fine. He won’t scold you again. Sukuna can’t help but ask, “What have you been dreaming about anyway?”
“Nothing.” You answer, which makes Sukuna put you back down on the futon. Of course you won’t open up so easily, but it frustrates him. His behavior is what dug him into this hole, he shouldn’t care.
“Do the babies cause you discomfort?” Sukuna questions, and you chuckle.
“When do they not?” You respond. “Falling asleep is a struggle, it’s no surprise I’m having nightmares.”
“Are you having nightmares related to them?” Sukuna questions, and you remain silent. While Sukuna would take that answer as a yes, he isn’t sure this time around. He isn’t great at picking up social cues, but he’s pretty damn sure that he’s on the receiving end of the silent treatment.
Sukuna takes a long time to think about this weird situation. He asked Uraume about this, but they didn’t have a good answer– Then he asked Hina, an answer that he quickly dismissed. He tries to recall what that answer was.
Then it dawns on him, “A woman dropped off a baby.”
“Your next meal, huh? Enjoy.” You respond, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. You’ve gotten bold, he’ll give you that.
“I don’t eat babies.” He answers. “Babies that are dropped off are raised as servants.”
No answer.
“You can ask Uraume if you want to visit him tomorrow.” Sukuna adds, and your interest is piqued.
“Him? It’s a boy?” You question, and Sukuna hums in response. You furrow your eyebrows, realizing that Sukuna is doing this for a reason. He wants you to look at a baby and think of the children that you grow inside of you. It’s not going to work though, there’s no way in hell that you’ll end up caring for his kids.
“Do you want to meet him or not?” Sukuna presses for an answer, wondering if Hina’s advice is any good. He might just kill her tomorrow if you refuse. Though, you adore Hina and he has to get on your good side so he might just spare her.
“Sure.”
“Uraume, why are you here?” You question when Sukuna's dear servant comes into your room. You rarely see them unless Sukuna is around. Sukuna is tending other business which means that you’re alone– Alone in the sense that he isn’t breathing down your neck, you’re still being watched by everyone else.
“King Sukuna told me you were meeting the baby. He wants me to take you there.” Uraume answers, and you sigh. He’s set on you meeting that baby, he so desperately wants you to change your mind. You can’t help but find it odd, he wants you to love the babies that you grow inside of you.
“Let’s go.” You respond. Uraume gives you a subtle nod before they turn around and leave the room. You follow behind, mentally preparing yourself to not fall for Sukuna’s dumb trick. Perhaps you should’ve turned him down last night, you're not the strongest when it comes to children.
You get to see a side of the palace that you’ve never come across. As you walk past everyone, you’re reminded that you hold some sort of power; a power that you forgot you held since Sukuna is constantly next to you. They bow down to you as you simply walk past them, as if you would actually do something to them.
Uraume leads you to the kitchen, where two women try to calm down the crying baby. Uraume is about to speak, but you shush them before they can say anything. You can read their next move, you don’t want the woman to stop simply to bow down to you.
“Let me hold him.” You tell the women, who have yet to realize who you are. They hand him over to you, desperate for a solution. The sound of a crying baby is absolutely not pleasant.
“Oh, look at you.” You gush at the boy who wails. He’s hungry with no way of feeding. “He’s too young for anything solid, huh?”
“Yes–” One of them speaks, until she realizes who you are. She bows down, and her colleague quickly follows suit. You nearly roll your eyes at the action, as if this wasn’t what you wanted when you asked Sukuna to marry you.
“Stand up.” You order, and they’re hesitant, but they do as you tell them. “What were you saying?”
The women look at each other, afraid of how to proceed. Regardless, they have to answer. “Yes, he’s too young for solids. We’ve never had a baby this young in our quarters, and we’re not sure how to proceed. We need a wet nurse but none of our servants are currently–”
“I’ll do it.” You cut her off as you stare down at the hungry baby. Oh, he looks so much like your Haru, you’d never forgive yourself if the baby died of hunger.
“My queen, that’s not appropriate. King Sukuna would be livid.” Uraume chimes in, though their words fall on deaf ears.
“Uraume, I’m going back to my room. I’ll tell Hina to give the baby back.” You tell them, bouncing the baby, hoping that the cries die down; you know it’s helpless, the baby won’t stop until he’s fed.
“My queen–” Uraume begins, but you begin to walk away. You’re smiling at the baby as he cries. Even when he’s crying, he looks so darn cute.
“Oh, how could someone abandon you? You’re so cute.” You tell him, as if you didn’t feel the same way about your babies– And you try not to think about it, but maybe Sukuna’s plan is working. There’s a twinge of guilt as you think about your refusal of loving your babies.
Maybe the stupid monster has a brain after all.
You lied, you were planning to hand back the baby boy as soon as you fed him, but he’s still in your arms. He looks at you with his beautiful brown wide eyes, and a smile on his face. You can’t let him go. You don’t doubt that he’ll be treated well, but he can have anything he needs right beside your side. Additionally, he makes great company.
“Oh, that stupid monster’s plan is working.” You mention as the baby yawns in your arms. You can’t fathom the thought of someone leaving this precious baby behind. Except, Sukuna’s sons will be nothing like this calm baby.
“Hina!” You call out, and the woman is in your room within seconds. She bows down her head, and waits for your order. You smile down at the baby in your arms as you tell her, “Get him a warm blanket.”
“King Sukuna–” She begins, but you cut her off before she can finish her sentence.
“Did I ask about Sukuna?” You question, and she shakes her head. “Then you’ll do as I say. Get him a blanket.”
“Of course.” She responds, nodding her head before walking away. It’s a risk she’s willing to take, even though there’s the possibility that Sukuna won’t be too happy. You were supposed to simply meet the baby, not get attached. There’s nothing she can do now, the matter is out of her hands.
“I hope his babies are as cute as you are.” You murmur as you bounce the baby in your arms. His little eyes are shutting on their own, and you stick out your bottom lip as your little pal begins to drift to sleep.
Hina comes back with a blanket, and you almost snatch it from her hands to cover him.
“When is the monster coming back?” You ask, knowing that Sukuna is going to force you to give him back. Sure, he suggested the idea but he won’t want you to keep the baby by your side. “Who’s going to feed him if Sukuna takes him from me?”
“I’ve ordered some servants to find a wet nurse, he’ll be fine.” Hina answers but you don’t like that answer. You’re not sure why though, it’s for his own good.
“Can I keep him with me forever?” You’re perhaps a little drastic. You’ve grown attached rather fast– Well, it’s not necessarily hard to grow attached when you’re lonely.
“My queen, you know that King Sukuna would never allow it.” Hina reminds you, and you can’t help but sigh. She’s not wrong. “Plus, you’re expecting two wonderful babies.”
“They’re not going to be like this…” You comment, and Hina can’t help but chuckle. Babies are babies, whether they’re Sukuna’s kids or not.
“My queen, you do realize that they’re going to be babies.” She responds as your eyes linger on the sleeping baby.
“They’ll pop out with four arms and a tummy mouth—“ You begin, wondering how his babies will end up looking. How much different will they look compared to the rest?
“My queen, you do realize that they’re half of you as well?” She reminds you, and you furrow your eyebrows. They’re also your babies… They will carry your blood whether you accept it or not. “They’re not just King Sukuna’s babies, but yours as well.”
“Of course.” You nod, staring down at the baby. She’s right, even if they come out with four arms and a tummy mouth, they’re still your own blood. Whether you love them or not, won’t change anything.
“He’s here.” Hina informs you as she hears the loud footsteps from far away. For some odd reason, you feel your breath get caught up in your chest, knowing that he’s approaching.
Hina bows down the moment the door to your room opens, only to not be acknowledged in any way by him. Sukuna’s eyes directly land on you, quickly going to the boy that you hold in your arms. He’s wrapped in a blanket that was made for your sons.
“Get out.” Sukuna says, and Hina stands up to do as he says. Though it’s not quick enough for him, because he proceeds to yell, “Get out!”
“Oh, you’ve woken him up.” You’re annoyed as you hear the crying baby. Just when he’s finally resting, he’s woken up by a screaming monster.
“Why were you feeding that baby?” Sukuna tries not to yell, knowing that he’ll just make matters worse by raising his voice. You’re shushing and bouncing the baby, trying to calm him down. Sukuna won’t be so accepting unless you tell him what he wants to hear.
You’ll tell him whatever he wants to hear.
“Your plan worked.” You tell him, standing up from your seat. The anger from Sukuna fades away, as curiosity overtakes him. “I’ll love your babies.”
His eyes widen, and he feels… Joyous? He’s happy. He likes the fact that his plan worked. Though he doubts that it’s going to be easy. You’re holding a baby in your arms, you must want something more.
“As long as you treat him like your own, I’ll love them.” You respond as you hand the baby to Sukuna. He glares down at the screaming child, wondering how the hell you’ve become so attached to this little human in a matter of hours.
“What?” Sukuna questions, refusing to hold the baby in his arms. You have to repeat yourself,
“Treat him as your own son, and I’ll be the mother you want me to be.”
#[bonds of fruition]#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna x you#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x y/n#jujutsu sukuna#jujutsu kaisen sukuna
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MORNING AFTER
Jinx x f!reader
Synopsis: After a night of a different type of fun with Jinx, you experienced a chaotic morning filled with reminders of the aftermath. Jinx made sure to make it worth the while for a day starter.
A/N: Just wanted to say that this does bring up some sexual content, but doesn’t go much further than that.
The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the weight of an arm slung across your waist. The next thing was the mop of blue hair splayed across the pillow next to you, messy and wild, and impossibly vibrant in the dim morning light filtering through the cracked blinds.
Jinx was still asleep, her face relaxed and peaceful, a stark contrast to the manic energy she usually carried around like a storm cloud. Her lips were slightly parted, a faint snore escaping every few breaths. You let yourself take her in, from the freckles scattered across her nose to the way her lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks.
God, she was beautiful.
Last night had been a lot, but the best way. You weren’t sure whether you should be more surprised by how utterly chaotic she was or how gentle she could be when she wanted to. That duality was Jinx in a nutshell—always unpredictable, always keeping you on your toes.
Your movement must have disturbed her, because she let out a low groan, her pink eyes fluttering open. A lazy grin spread across her face when she saw you staring.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled, her voice raspy with sleep. “If it isn’t my favorite little snuggle buddy. Morning, sugarbomb.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at her ridiculous nickname. “Morning, baby.”
She stretched like a cat, her body pressing against yours as she yawned dramatically. “So, was it everything you dreamed of?” she teased, waggling her eyebrows. “And more?”
You rolled your eyes, even as your cheeks burned. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s a big word for someone who was screaming my name a few hours ago.”
“Jinx!”
Her laughter was loud and unabashed as she flopped onto her back, one hand resting behind her head while the other reached for yours. She laced her fingers with yours, squeezing gently. Despite her teasing, there was a softness in her gaze that made your heart ache in the best way.
“I’m serious, though,” she said after a moment, her tone quieter. “You good? I didn’t, you know, go too far or anything?”
You squeezed her hand in return, touched by her concern. “I’m more than good, Jinx. Last night was amazing.”
Her grin returned, this time a little smug. “Damn right it was.”
You rolled your eyes again, but there was no hiding your smile.
She sat up suddenly, the sheets pooling around her waist, and turned to look at you with that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes. “You hungry? I’m starving. I could totally make us some breakfast.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Can you even cook?”
She gasped, clutching her chest like you’d mortally wounded her. “Excuse you, I’ll have you know I make a mean pancake. Probably. How hard can it be?”
“Oh no,” you groaned, but you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up. “We’re going to burn the apartment down, aren’t we?”
“Only one way to find out!”
Before you could protest, Jinx was out of bed, stark naked and completely unbothered as she darted toward the kitchen. You buried your face in your hands, half-exasperated and half in awe of her sheer audacity.
A few minutes later, you followed her, wrapping yourself in one of the oversized shirts she’d stolen from some poor shopkeeper in the Undercity’s market. You found her rummaging through the cabinets, her hair somehow even messier than before, muttering to herself about flour and syrup.
“What’s the plan, Chef Jinx?” you asked, leaning against the counter with a smirk.
She turned to you with a proud smile, holding up a box of pancake mix like it was some kind of trophy. “We’re making breakfast! You handle the boring stuff like measuring, and I’ll do the fun part, aka flipping!”
“Uh-huh. And who’s cleaning up the mess?”
She winked at you. “That’s future Jinx’s problem.”
You couldn’t argue with that logic.
The next half hour was pure chaos, as expected. Jinx got flour everywhere, from the counters, to in her hair, and somehow even on the ceiling. She insisted on using way too much food coloring, so the pancakes ended up an alarming shade of neon pink. But they were edible, surprisingly, and the two of you ate on the floor of the kitchen, laughing and stealing bites from each other’s plates.
After breakfast, Jinx pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you as she nuzzled into your neck. “You know,” she murmured, her voice soft and almost shy, “I like this whole thing, being able to wake up with you. Feels nice.”
You leaned back against her, your fingers tracing absent patterns on her arm. “I like it too.”
She was quiet for a moment, her grip on you tightening just slightly. Then, in true Jinx fashion, she broke the silence with a cheeky grin. “So, round two in the shower?”
You groaned, laughing despite yourself. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it.”
She wasn’t wrong. She never really could be when it comes to you loving her.
A/N: I absolutely love jinx and her chaotic energy (I just hope I captured it well in this fanfic).
#jinx x you#jinx x reader#jinx fanfic#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#jinx#arcane fanfic#arcane#lesbian fanfic#lesbian#sweet and spicy fanfic#sweet and spicy#sweet fanfic#sweet#fluffy fanfic#fluff#light spice#fanfic#fanfic writing
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𝐰𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥
part one | chapter list
new visitors in Jackson inspire strong feelings, in both you and Joel.
cw: super protective joel, all cards on the table slow burn, complicated everything, eventual scary joel, more cw to be added later
જ⁀➴
The Tipsy Bison is intimate in its capacity. It’s not unlikely to let yourself in and be able to greet each person inside with familiarity —there’s Jesse at the bar talking to Astrid; there’s Eugene at the back with a battered old book; there’s Joel Miller and his rambunctious, not-so-little charge sharing a sandwich. You’re used to it. You’ve come to expect to see your community and nobody else, even the vaguely less familiar.
S’why tonight sucks.
“Is this really… you know, is this a good idea?”
Jesse is younger than you, but he’s nice enough. He can see you’re not comfortable in the crowd and he’s cordoned you off. “Apparently. Maria trusts him.”
‘Him’ being Jonathan, a travelling tradesman from a small community of only twelve people. Five men, four women, three children. Maria knew the leader from a time before Jackson, and she trusts him enough to give him the secret of Jackson, which is a big deal.
The idea of losing what you have here makes you feel nauseous. You have to trust Maria, is all, because she wouldn’t wanna lose it either.
“Do we…” You squeeze your hands nervously without finishing Joel’s sentence.
Jesse frowns at you. “Why don’t you go sit with Mr. Miller, if you’re so freaked?”
Mr. Miller is his teasing. Somehow, someway, one of the kids (who don’t seem to be kids anymore) figured you out. It’s not a big deal, you’re not sure you’d even go so far as to call it a crush. It’s an appreciation. You like Joel. Like his nose, his brown eyes, his hands. You like how he stands against doorways and how sometimes, late at night, you’ll walk home and see him sitting on the porch with a candle at his feet. Ellie with him, alone, but always with a dinky acoustic guitar, strumming away quietly, picking at strings. He must learn by ear. You like the way he speaks to people.
Don’t worry, he says, a smidge pissed. Or, genuine, Could you move, honey?
That’s how you got caught. Joel called you ‘honey’ without meaning anything by it and you must’ve looked a shade too close to pleased. By the next day, Ellie herself was sidling up to you outside the stables to ask about your lil ole crush. “I can make myself scarce,” she’d said, rolling the words around in a way that hinted at their pre-rehearsal, even as she laughed. “Just tell me when.”
You look down at your glass of gin. “What business do I have sitting with Joel Miller?” you ask lightly.
You’re not trying to convince Jesse —again, the kids know. You don’t care, so long as they keep it to themselves. Troubling Joel is the last thing you wanna do. He looks tired tonight. Long trip out with Tommy, maybe, or on pins like everybody else now that the bar is full of strangers.
Said strangers give a raucous bubble of laughter. The electricity is a marvel, the booze a delight, and they sit entranced by the small roller TV, warmed by old malt whisky and the space heater under their table. A fire rips in the kitchen, crackling, and it’s enough to make you flinch.
“I think I’m gonna head home,” you tell Jesse, not loving the sympathy lining his eyes and brows.
“Don’t be a coward.” He’s joking, and he softens as he adds, “If that’ll make you feel better, sure. Go home.”
“What’s that mean?”
He shrugs. “Seriously. If you can’t handle it, don’t suffer.”
It’s not your dream to spend the evening with the young ones, anyhow. You’d hoped Tommy would be sitting with Joel, ‘cos Tommy tries to set Joel up every now and then with the available ladies of the commune. And you, pretending it’s a joke you’re in on and not a real reason to sit, always laugh and sit and try your best to flirt, just a little. Joel was frosty to begin with, kinder now. Whenever he sees Tommy beckoning you over, you can’t help thinking that he’s relieved it’s you sitting down. His shoulders relax.
You give him a last look, not longing but getting there. He’s nursing a dark glass sitting beside the sandy-haired man in charge of the laundromat. Keith, maybe. They’re not talking, frowning in sync as the table of tradesmen once again reaches a fever pitch.
He turns to you, sensing your gaze. You offer an uneasy smile. Hadn’t meant to. The group of outsiders is making you feel sick.
His frown stays in place, but his eyes change. They don’t soften, but they shift. His hand uncurls from his glass.
“Hi.”
You feel your eyes move of their own accord as a man steps in front of your view. The lightbulb by the door flickers. You blink at this new stranger.
He’s handsome, almost Clooney-like, Thin Red Line but gruff. He has a few strands of salt in his beard, but he’s not much older than you are, you’d wager.
“Hey,” you say, a question mark suggested at the end.
“I’m Jamie.”
“Hi, Jamie.”
He smiles lightly. “This is usually where you give your own name.”
You think about turning then and there, a thread of you that knows you don’t have to go through anything that makes you uncomfortable, but just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. You give him your name against your wants, and he asks if he can buy you a drink.
“It’s a commune,” you say, not sure if he’s kidding. “Drinks are free, so long as you don’t jerk Seth around.”
“Right, of course they are. It’s a shame, I wouldn’t have minded.”
You know this is where you’re supposed to say something obligingly forgiving: It’s okay, do you wanna sit down? But you’d rather not.
It’s not like he really likes you. Clean intimacy is hard to come by.
“Have you lived here long?” he asks.
“Uh, couple years. Great years.” Should you try to sell it? You could spin a lie. Jackson is the worst and nobody should ever want to raid it. “Living in a commune is the hard part, there’s not much time to rest.”
“Seems alright now.”
He’s right. The evening’s are often your own to do as you like. “Not too bad,” you agree quietly.
Jamie has cloudy blue eyes, light in the light and dark in the dark. He turns his head and seems fiercer than you’d expected him to be. Your mind is playing childish tricks. You’re too old for monsters, but he seems off, then.
“I’m going home now. Nice to meet you,” you say.
He frowns. It’s nothing like Joel’s. “Okay, yeah. Have a good night, sweetheart.”
You rush out of the double doors of the Bison and skirt around the wall until you’re hidden. Jackson’s hardly ever dark, but there are shadows to retreat to when you’re not feeling right. You press yourself into an alcove, feel the chill of the stone behind you seeping into your back like water, frozen air kissing your cheeks. The cold isn’t in the wind, it’s everywhere, and after half a minute your nose feels like it’s hurting. A couple seconds later and the door is whipping open.
Joel cuts right down the path toward your shared street.
You rush after him, your shoes packing snow, alerting him to another presence.
“Oh,” he says, whipping his head to yours. “What’re you doing standing out here?”
“Nothing– wanted some air. You going home?” You wipe your cheek. “Can I walk with you?”
“Hey, are you okay?”
You sniffle. The change in temperature does it to you every time. Any transition from warm to cold makes your nose run like a faucet. “I’m tired.”
Joel’s eyes dart inside. “What did that jackass want?”
“Nothing. Asking me for a drink or something, I don’t know. I told him Seth and Cory make them.” You sniffle again, self-conscious as you rub your wet nose.
“He upset you?”
“No, no, it’s real cold, that’s all,” you rush out, trekking a bump of snow to stand beside him, the reality of his face closer and finer. You can feel the scratch of his scruff under your fingers without touching it. He has a scar on the left side of his cheek still red with newness. “How’d you get that?” You point to your own.
“Pulled a nail out of a doorframe, I was standing too close.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Did it hurt?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“No, it’s hardly a scratch. What about you? He hurt you?”
“Jamie?”
“I don’t know his name. Did he?”
You shake your head. Joel’s like this. He doesn’t smile for nothing, but he’s the first one to offer you a hand if you fall on your ass. ”Didn’t so much as touch me.”
“So why’re you crying?” he asks.
You’re lost.
“If he touched you, said something to you, anything, I’ll take care of it,” he says firmly. “They aren’t here to do whatever they want, nobody gets to upset you, not here.”
You wipe your eyes again. The cold, you think, is making you glossy-eyed and sad. Joel must’ve caught you looking earlier and figured you were asking for help. “You came out here looking for me?” you ask.
“You didn’t look happy.”
“I’m not. I don’t like new people. Don’t like what might happen if they won’t keep Jackson a secret.”
“Nobody’s gonna get you in here, honey.” He ducks his head, his hand judging your arm. “Alright?” Less sure of himself, he clasps your elbow. “Alright?” he asks again.
“I’m okay. It’s just cold.”
“Warm ya’ up,” he mumbles, letting his hand slide behind your back. “Head home and stoke a fire, that’s what we’re gonna do.”
“You don’t have to, Joel. I’m really fine, I am, it’s the sniffles–”
“‘M gonna take you home,” he says surely. “I’ll feel better if I can keep an eye on you now, ‘til you’re feeling alright.”
You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything at all as he leads you down the snow-packed road from the Tipsy Bison to the neighbourhood street. In five minutes you’re at his door, he’s pushing it open, shouting down into the garage to see if Ellie’s home. He’s taking off his coat and tossing it over the bannister, hands open, expecting you to do the same.
You shrug out of it and pass it over. He puts it with a hell of a lot more care beside his own.
“C’mon,” he says quietly, “this way.”
He stokes the embers in the fireplace. Throws a couple of logs in when they start to glow. Adds some scrap paper, a conservative splash of fire starter. The heat starts to nip your fingers, like a painful pinging you can’t shake.
“What?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at your shaking hands.
“Just hurting.”
“Your hands?” He takes your wrists into his hands and holds the bottoms of your hands to his chest. “You gotta be careful. Frostbite don’t take long to set in.”
“I don’t have frostbite, it’s ’cos it’s warm now, it’s– it’s like getting in the bath too soon.”
Joel’s hardened, sure. But there isn’t one person living in Jackson now who doesn’t have at least one good thing to say about him. Joel fixed my front door, found my bike a new tire, took my kid for an hour when I felt like I was gonna explode.Youve heard the bad with the good, whispers of what he did before he got to Jackson, and the rumour of what he did after. Thing is, you can see past it. You’ve done cruel shit too.
He doesn’t feel cruel as he rubs your fingers back to life. “What do you mean? Getting in the bath too soon?” he asks quietly.
“When it’s cold, and it’s always cold here, and I get into the bathtub as soon as I get home from the stables, it makes my hands do what they’re doing now…” You shudder as he presses them flat to his chest and covers them. “You’re gonna make it worse,” you murmur, tepid teasing.
“The quicker you warm up, the quicker it goes away,” he says. He’s smiling, and his voice is all full of something sweet, like it’s rolling around in his mouth before he uses it.
“I really don’t like these new people.”
“Yeah, me neither. They won’t be here long, couple more days.”
“That Jamie guy… I don’t know, guess I wasn’t as nice to him as I should’ve been, he didn’t want anything. Well–”
“He wanted something.”
“I know that, but– it’s not a crime, is it? Doesn’t everybody want that?”
“He’d be blind if he didn’t want it with you, honey,” Joel says.
There’s that word again, tacked at the end of an implication that makes you go white hot.
For once, he notices your reaction. “Shit,” he says, “sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t mean it like that. You’re beautiful.” He shakes his head. “Shit,” he says under his breath.
“…Thank you, Joel.” He’s holding you awfully tight, really, saying this stuff. You’re grown. You know what it means; can’t pretend it away, can’t will or while it into an insecure maybe. He can’t want me, I’m me. But Joel wouldn’t do this to you if he didn’t feel something for you, even if all that something is is just thinking you’re beautiful. “I think you’re handsome, too, you know.”
He transfers both of your hands to one of his, the other coming up behind his neck in a show of bashfulness you aren’t sure is real or not. “Ellie mighta let something slip about that.”
“What sort of something?”
“Said you might like me. You know.”
What were you thinking, back at the Bison? It’s not a crush, it’s worse, you’re totally fucked because he’s looking at you like he wants to lean in and kiss you, and he’s solid enough to do it, to take you by the shoulders and tip your head to the side with a nudge of his nicely shaped nose, he could kiss you sick.
Joel Miller, you think, frowning at him softly, please don’t mess me up.
“Took you long enough to find out,” you say.
“You think I didn’t notice? I was waiting on you to come clean.”
“And this has nothing to do with Jamie?” you ask, heart popping under your ribs in a panic that you might actually like feeling.
“Of course it has to do with Jamie, j’s not all of it.” He ducks his gaze. “I don’t like seeing you like that, all antsy, and I really don’t like seeing you crying.”
“I wasn’t crying,” you say with a soft laugh, sure you’re about to be kissed, “I was cold.”
He lets go of your hand and begins rubbing twin lines up and down your arms. “Shit,” he says, potty mouth, “I was doing something about that. Let me get you a blanket. I got a huge one up in the bedroom, you stay here.”
Leaving you blinking next to the crackling fire. Unkissed, and without an invitation.
“You want a cup of coffee?” he calls from the stairs, looking down at you, wearing an expression you can’t decipher. “You go on and help yourself, honey.”
You nod at him until he carries on upstairs. Coffee is the last thing on your mind, but you find your way into Joel’s shining kitchen and warm the coffee pot, pouring a brew in a ceramic mug, the scratch-owl drawn on its side bumpy to the touch.
You get to thinking. You’d wanted to be kissed, but what if Joel actually kisses you, big hands on your face, weight between your legs? He’s bringing down that big blanket to cover you up, both of you, ‘cos even with the fire it’s too cold to get undressed without one–
“You alright?” Joel asks when he returns, a throw blanket slung over his shoulder. “You look jittery.”
You swallow roughly and wave a shy hand. Just the coffee, you explain.
#joel miller#joel miller hbo#joel miller x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x female reader#the last of us hbo#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction
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Is It New Year, Yet? | Y.Jh
Pairing: Jeonghan x reader
Genre: fluff, parents au
Summary: Every year, twins will make a new year list contained with everything they want to do.
Author note: hello everyone🧚♀️🧚♀️ How's your 2024 so far? I hope you have a very warm heart this year and let's close the year with fluffy Jeonghan🙈🙈 (bcs i miss him sm???) However, i'll be back in 2025, stronger, wilder, angstier(?). Anyway, happy new year everyone!🎉🎊🎇
It was the day after Christmas, and Jeonghan was savoring the last moments of his holiday before the whirlwind of another tour swept him away to a different country the next day. He lounged on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through video apps and occasionally sending funny clips to Seungkwan. His twin daughters, Nabi and Nabin, were sprawled on the floor, completely absorbed in their drawings. Every so often, Jeonghan glanced at their work, smiling softly and murmuring words of encouragement at their earnest efforts.
"Appa, look!" Nabin exclaimed, holding up her masterpiece—a family portrait with a brightly decorated Christmas tree in the background. Beside her, Nabi proudly showed off her drawing of a vibrant fireworks display.
"Appa, is it New Year's yet?" Nabin asked curiously, her big eyes filled with anticipation as she remembered how close it was to the end of the year.
"Let’s check our New Year list, Nabin!" Nabi suggested, her excitement bubbling over as she scrambled to their room to grab their special book.
Jeonghan’s smile widened as he listened to their conversation. Sitting up from the couch, he watched the twins return with their "New Year Book List" clutched tightly in their small hands. The tradition had been his idea—a way to encourage the girls to dream big and set goals. Since they learned to write, he had urged them to jot down all the things they wanted to do in the coming year and reflect on them at the end of it. Over time, this simple activity had become a cherished family routine.
"We didn’t go to the zoo with Dad this year!" Nabi’s voice broke through the quiet, tinged with disappointment. Her little face was scrunched up in a pout as she flipped through the pages of the book.
Jeonghan’s chest tightened with guilt. “I know, sweetie. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice warm but tinged with regret. “I really wanted to take you, but things got so busy.”
"Promise us we'll go to the zoo next year," the twins demanded in unison, standing before him with their arms crossed, their tiny frames exuding an almost comical seriousness.
Jeonghan chuckled softly, brushing their hair lovingly with his hands. “I can’t promise for sure, but I’ll do my best, okay?”
Though his tone was light, the weight of his words pressed heavily on him. The truth was, his packed schedule often robbed him of precious moments with his daughters. He loved them deeply—they were his entire world—but between concerts, tours, and promotional events, it was you who attended their school programs, ballet recitals, and parent-teacher events. Every missed moment gnawed at his heart, a constant reminder of what he was sacrificing.
But the New Year list was different. It was their request, a tangible hope etched in crayon and ink. This year, he hadn’t managed to take them to the zoo despite their enthusiasm for animals. Urgent commitments had forced him to reschedule, and the thought of letting them down again made his chest ache.
“I’ll work on it, I promise,” Jeonghan said earnestly, pulling the twins into a gentle hug. They giggled, their earlier disappointment melting away as they leaned into their father’s embrace.
"Next year, Appa will definitely come with us!" Nabin declared confidently, as if her words alone could make it happen.
Jeonghan smiled, a mix of hope and determination flickering in his eyes. He might not always be able to keep his promises, but for his daughters, he would always try.
"I wrote about having a brother this year," Nabi said, her tiny finger tracing over her list.
Jeonghan’s ears perked up. "Huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
Nabin leaned over to peek at her sister’s list. "Oh, right! We talked about that. Yes, Dad! We want a brother!"
Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Having a brother isn’t as simple as writing it down on a list, sweeties. It’s a big responsibility.”
The twins pouted, clearly not satisfied with his response.
"And also," Jeonghan continued, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor with them, "it’s up to Mom. She’d be the one carrying him for nine months, you know."
Nabin’s eyes narrowed in confusion, her little hands on her hips. “Why not you, appa?”
"Yeah!" Nabi immediately echoed, mimicking her twin’s expression.
Jeonghan let out a hearty laugh, patting their heads. “We’ve talked about this before, remember? Only girls can carry babies.”
Nabin scratched her head, looking sheepish. “Oh, yeah… I forgot. Hehe.”
Nabi, however, climbed onto Jeonghan’s lap, her determination unwavering. “But don’t you do something about it, appa? I really want a brother.”
Jeonghan grinned and pulled Nabin onto his lap as well, wrapping his arms around both of them. “Hmm... I’ll talk to Mom about it, okay? But there’s a lot of other exciting things to do next year besides having a brother.”
The twins groaned in unison, clearly unimpressed with his answer. “But we want a brother!”
Jeonghan was about to respond when he heard the familiar sound of the door’s passcode being entered. Relief flooded him as he realized you were home. The twins immediately scrambled off his lap and ran to the door, their excitement bubbling over as they greeted you.
You stepped inside, a little pale but smiling warmly at your children. You’d been feeling under the weather since yesterday, likely from something you’d eaten during a Christmas gathering at a friend’s house. Still, seeing your family instantly lifted your spirits.
“Hi, babies! How was your day with Dad?” you asked, crouching down to let their little fingers curl around yours as they clamored to show you their New Year list.
“Mommy, look! Look at our lists! We had so much fun this year!” Nabi exclaimed, holding the book up to you.
"Did you?" you replied with a soft laugh, glancing at Jeonghan as you walked into the living room. “How’s the New Year list looking this year? We had a lot of fun this year, didn’t we?”
You sat beside Jeonghan, leaning into him slightly as he gently touched your forehead to check your temperature. “How are you feeling? Did the doctor say anything new?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.
“I’m fine,” you reassured him, though your voice was a bit weak. “Just some food poisoning, probably. I’ll be good as new tomorrow.”
"But it would’ve been more fun with Dad!" Nabin piped up suddenly, standing in front of you with her hands on her hips. “Daddy is a fun man!”
Both you and Jeonghan burst out laughing at her declaration. Nabin always had a knack for turning serious moments into comedic gold.
“Fun guy?” Nabi asked, tilting her head curiously.
“No,” Nabin corrected with a huff. “Fun man! Daddy is a man, not a guy or a boy!”
Jeonghan nodded in agreement, his chest puffing out playfully. “That’s right, baby. Daddy’s a man.”
You stood from your seat and made your way to the kitchen, brushing off the fatigue that still lingered. “What do you guys want for dinner?” you asked, your voice light and cheerful.
Nabi and Nabin immediately chimed in with their favorite meals, their excitement filling the air. Jeonghan, however, frowned slightly, his protective nature kicking in. “We can always order takeout, love,” he suggested, concern evident in his tone.
You shook your head, offering him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. The doctor gave me a shot, and I feel much better now.”
As the four of you gathered around the dining table, Jeonghan took it upon himself to help by setting up the twins’ plates while you prepped dinner for the two of you. It was a simple routine, but moments like these felt special—a reminder of the quiet joys of family life.
"Jihyun talked about Santa this morning,” Nabi began, her voice thoughtful. “I don’t believe in Santa. It was her mom who gave her the present, right, Mom?”
Jeonghan stifled a laugh. “Did you tell Jihyun that?” he asked, glancing at his daughter with amusement.
Nabi shook her head firmly. “Nope, I kept it in my head. But Mom said it, didn’t you, Mom?”
You let out a soft chuckle, nodding. “I did. But it’s okay if someone believes in Santa. It’s part of the fun.”
Nabin tapped her chin with a finger, clearly deep in thought. “Hmm... I think Mom told us that because she didn’t want to give us Christmas gifts.”
Jeonghan burst into laughter at Nabin’s clever deduction, while you quickly defended yourself. “Hey! I got you two the plushies you wanted last week, remember?”
The twins giggled as the memory resurfaced, but Nabin wasn’t done yet. “But why does Santa give free gifts?”
Jeonghan set the twins’ plates down in front of them—Japanese curry tonight, a meal they loved. “Because Mom’s cooking tonight, we’re eating whatever she wants. That’s the rule,” he joked, winking at you.
Nabi, still fixated on the Santa topic, tilted her head. “Is Santa a god or something, Mom?”
Jeonghan shot you a look, his lips twitching in amusement. “Wow, babe, you’re raising a philosopher,” he murmured under his breath.
You laughed softly and addressed your daughter. “No, sweetie, he’s not a god. Santa���s just a figure—someone who gives gifts to kids who’ve been good all year. That’s why your Santa could be me, your dad, or even your friend’s mom.”
Nabi let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I can’t imagine you with a beard and a red suit, Mom.”
You burst out laughing, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I think we’re all glad I’m not Santa.”
Later that night, after tucking Nabi and Nabin into bed, you quietly slipped into the master bedroom. Jeonghan was sitting on the floor, surrounded by neatly folded clothes and travel essentials as he packed for his upcoming tour.
“I don’t want to go,” he muttered, his voice heavy with reluctance as he opened his arms to pull you into his embrace.
You nestled against him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I know, baby,” you whispered, your hand gently stroking his back.
“The twins mentioned how many events I missed this year,” he confessed, his voice tinged with guilt. “It hurts. My heart aches every time I think about it.”
You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, offering him the comfort he needed. “Don’t let it weigh you down. They were sad at the time, sure, but they also know how hard you work to give them the life they have. They’re proud of you, Jeonghan, even if they don’t say it.”
For a moment, silence enveloped the room, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Then Jeonghan spoke again, his tone quieter this time. “They said they want a brother next year.”
You hummed, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “They’ve been talking about that all year, actually.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? I thought today was the first time they ever brought it up. I told them it was up to you.”
You let out a slow sigh, your gaze distant. “I don’t know if I’ll be ready. The twins are growing up so fast, and it’s already a challenge to keep up with them. I know you’re here to help, but… I’m scared, Jeonghan.”
He immediately tightened his hold on you, sensing the vulnerability in your voice. “Hey,” he murmured softly, “it’s okay to feel that way. We all get scared sometimes. I do, too. But we’ve got each other, right?”
You nodded, but the words still caught in your throat. “I know, but… you’ll leave again. Like before. And I’ll be alone.”
The whispered admission broke something inside him. He hadn’t realized how deeply his absences had affected you, not just as a mother but as his partner.
“I’m sorry, love,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Should I take a leave? A hiatus? I’d do it for you and the twins in a heartbeat.”
You shook your head quickly, your hands clutching his shirt. “No. I can’t ask you to do that. What about the band?”
Jeonghan chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “There are thirteen of us, love. Missing one person for a little while won’t hurt anyone.”
You let out a small huff, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do that. I think I’m just being a little too sensitive tonight.”
He kissed the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Don’t apologize, love. It’s okay to feel this way. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”
*
Right before the concert started, Jeonghan decided to squeeze in a quick video call with his daughters. As soon as the screen lit up with their familiar faces, everyone in the room perked up, eagerly crowding around Jeonghan to wave at the twins.
“Hi, Nabi! Hi, Nabin!” came a chorus of greetings from the members.
The twins squealed in delight, and their eyes lit up when they spotted Seungcheol. They had a soft spot for him—unsurprising, given his habit of spoiling them with everything from Lego sets and plushies to clothes and candy.
“Uncle Seungcheol! Hi!” Nabin called out, her voice full of excitement.
Seungcheol grinned and waved back. “Hi, my favorite little humans! How are my girls?”
Before Nabin could answer, she turned to you, her voice suddenly secretive. “Mom, can we tell Uncle Seungcheol?”
The room erupted in laughter at her cheerful yet mischievous tone.
“What do you want to tell me?” Seungcheol asked curiously, leaning closer to the screen.
But the twins immediately shook their heads in unison, giggling. “Oh no, Mom said it’s a secret!”
“Tell me instead, baby,” Jeonghan coaxed, his voice playful as he tried to get in on the secret.
But Nabin was quick to deny him, shaking her head furiously. “No! It’s a secret to you too!”
Jeonghan gasped in mock betrayal, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “We promised there wouldn’t be secrets between us!”
The twins giggled harder, clearly enjoying his reaction. The room was filled with laughter, as the members, seated around Jeonghan on the couch, watched the interaction with amused expressions.
“Cute,” Wonwoo mumbled, glancing over at the screen. His quiet comment caught the twins' attention immediately.
“Uncle Wonwoo!” Nabi and Nabin exclaimed in unison, their excitement palpable.
Wonwoo chuckled, waving at the camera. “Happy New Year, Nabi and Nabin! What are you two up to today?”
“We’re going to bake!” Nabin said enthusiastically. But then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she turned to you. “Mom, can our brother look like Uncle Wonwoo?”
The room went silent for a beat, and Wonwoo blinked in confusion. “What? A brother? Are you… going to have a son, hyung?” he asked, turning to Jeonghan with wide eyes.
Jeonghan froze, his face a mixture of shock and panic as the other members whipped their heads toward him in curiosity. He immediately shook his head, his hands waving frantically in denial.
“No, no, no! That’s not it—” he stammered, but before he could explain, Nabi turned to you with an innocent question. “Mom, how does Uncle Wonwoo know? Did you tell him about our brother?”
Jeonghan’s jaw dropped, and his phone nearly slipped from his grasp. Seungcheol, quick on reflexes, caught it before it could hit the floor.
“What is going on?” Seungcheol asked, his eyes wide as he processed the conversation. He turned to Jeonghan, his expression one of barely-contained amusement. “Are you hiding something?”
The rest of the members, sensing the commotion, crowded closer, their curiosity piqued.
“What’s happening?”
“Jeonghan hyung, do we need to congratulate you?”
Jeonghan’s ears turned red as he scrambled to retrieve his phone from Seungcheol. “Nothing is happening! Stop making things up!” he exclaimed, flustered.
Without waiting for more teasing, he hastily stepped out of the room, putting the call on a private line. The laughter and teasing from the other members echoed behind him as he closed the door.
“Hello?” you answered, your tone light, though you sounded curious about the sudden call.
“Love,” Jeonghan began, his voice low and urgent. “Why do the twins think they’re getting a brother? And why do they want him to look like Wonwoo?”
You couldn’t hold back your laughter, the sound making his heart soften despite his panic. “Oh, they’ve been on about this for weeks. I thought they’d mentioned it to you already. As for Wonwoo… well, I guess they just think he’s handsome!”
Jeonghan groaned, leaning against the wall as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’ve got the entire group thinking we’re planning something, love.”
You chuckled again, clearly amused by his predicament. “Relax, Jeonghan. Just tell them the truth. Or… you could let them squirm a little.”
Jeonghan sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re too calm about this,” he muttered, though the warmth in his tone betrayed his affection.
“Because it’s funny,” you replied, your laughter ringing in his ears again.
And just like that, Jeonghan found himself smiling despite the chaos. You always had a way of putting him at ease.
At home, you sat on the couch, trying your best to look stern while the twins stood in front of the wall with their little arms raised in the air. Their small figures looked so comically guilty that you had to fight hard to suppress your smile.
“Not done yet?” Nabin asked, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and curiosity.
“Not even two minutes,” you replied with a hum, glancing at the timer on your phone.
“We’re sorry…” Nabin mumbled, her pout making her look even more adorable.
You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure. “What did I tell you about secrets? It was supposed to stay a secret until Daddy’s home.”
“We were just excited!” Nabi exclaimed in defense, her hands starting to drop. But the moment you let out a soft warning sound, she quickly pushed them back up with a small huff.
The timer finally beeped, signaling the end of their two-minute punishment. The twins immediately lowered their arms and turned to face you, heads bowed like little penitents.
“Mommy, we’re sorry,” Nabi said earnestly, her small hands clasped together. “We promise we won’t say anything about the secret until Daddy’s home.”
You let out a small chuckle, unable to stay stern anymore. Opening your arms, you pulled them into a warm hug. “Thank you for apologizing, sweeties. I forgive you. But remember, no more talking about this, okay? It’s just between us until Dad comes home.”
The twins nodded solemnly, their little faces glowing with relief. But just as the moment of seriousness seemed to pass, Nabi piped up in her usual curious tone, “I just want my brother to look like Uncle Wonwoo…”
Her words caught you off guard, and you laughed softly, brushing her hair back. “Is that so?”
Nabin chimed in, nodding eagerly. “Yeah! Is it possible, Mom?”
You crouched down to meet their eyes, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s see in seven months, okay?”
Their eyes widened, and Nabi’s little mouth fell open in surprise. “Seven months? Really?”
You smiled mysteriously, tapping your finger gently on her nose. “We’ll see.”
The twins squealed in excitement before bursting into giggles, their earlier punishment already forgotten as they began whispering about their potential “brother.” You watched them with a fond smile, marveling at how their innocent enthusiasm could brighten even the quietest days.
A week later, when Jeonghan finally stepped through the door after his long trip, the twins wasted no time. The moment they spotted him, they ran at full speed, their excited voices echoing through the house.
“Dad! We’re having a brother!” they announced in unison, their high-pitched voices practically bouncing off the walls.
Jeonghan froze mid-step, his suitcase still in hand, not even given a second to rest. He blinked at the two beaming faces before him, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “A... brother?” he asked, his tone filled with a mix of surprise and confusion.
“Yes! Mom said so!” Nabin chimed in, her hands on her hips as if to emphasize the gravity of the news.
“We’re so excited, Daddy!”
The end. See you in 2025!
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen fic#jeonghan fanfiction#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan oneshot#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan fic#svt dad!au#seventeen dad au#jeonghan drabbles#jeonghan dad au
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I can’t request from my Lu account for some reason, so I’ll just go anon but you know who I am 💚
him wanting curvy!female reader to sit on his face, but she’s apprehensive and hesitant that she might “hurt” him but she has no idea what kind of wild ride she’s in for—literally
♡ WARNINGS - Smut! Oral (fem)
♡ A/N - I just know he loves plus-size girls. His face is just so rideable. Ugh he would love to show off how strong he is by manhandling you. He’d lift you with such ease, and he’d love your stretch marks and your body’s softness. He’d love the way your thick thighs feel wrapped around his head. Fuck I’m definitely writing more Lu with plus-size readers soon <3
Luigi reclined against the pillows, his broad shoulders relaxed but his gaze burning with intensity. He tugged at your hand, urging you closer as you hesitated by the edge of the bed.
“C’mon, amore,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve been dreaming about this.”
Your cheeks flushed as you looked at him, biting your lip nervously. “Luigi, I… I’m not sure. What if… what if I hurt you?”
He let out a low chuckle, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you to stand between his legs. “Hurt me? Mi Amore, you have no idea what you’re doing to me just by standing there.” His voice dropped to a low husky murmer, sending a shiver down your spine. “Trust me. I want you on me. Now.”
Your heart pounded in your chest as he guided you onto the bed. You kneeled hesitantly, hovering above him, your hands braced on the headboard for balance. His hands slid up your thighs, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as his eyes roamed over you with unrestrained hunger.
“Thats a good girl,” he said, his voice reverent as his hands trailed to your hips, tugging you closer. “You’re so fucking pretty”
Still uncertain, you tried to keep some of your weight off him as you positioned yourself above his face. Luigi’s hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he tilted his head back to look up at you. His brown eyes consoled you the moment they met yours. He was smiling up at you like you were a holy object.
“Stop worrying, amore,” he said, his tone commanding yet gentle, a deep promise in his words. “I’m not fragile. Let me have all of you.”
Before you could respond, Luigi pulled you down, his lips and tongue immediately setting to work. Your gasp quickly turned into a broken moan as he devoured you with a hunger that made your head spin. His tongue traced and circled, each movement deliberate, as he expertly explored every inch of you. His grip on your thighs tightened, locking you in place as he dove deeper, his nose brushing against your sensitive clit with every deliberate stroke.
"Lu…" you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his curly hair, the rough scruff on his face brushing against your inner thighs. The sensation of it added to the heat flooding your body, the contrast of his roughness and the tenderness of his touch making you shiver. Your legs trembled, threatening to clamp around his head as he groaned against you, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body.
He pulled back for a brief moment, his lips glistening, a wicked smirk curling on his wet face as he looked up at you. His voice was thick with desire. “Told you I could handle it, didn’t I? You taste so fucking good, baby..”
Before you could respond, he dove back in, his movements more urgent now, more intense. His tongue swirled and flicked, his lips sucking gently, then harshly, as he worked to make you unravel. Your hips moved instinctively, pressing into him, trying to chase the pleasure he was giving you, but Luigi held you in place.
“You’re so fucking perfect, amore,” he muttered against you, his voice dripping with praise. “Look at you, can’t stop shaking—does it feel good? Feels good to know I’m the one who makes you feel like this, hm?”
His words only made the heat inside you intensify. Your breath came in gasps, your body rocking slightly in response to the rhythm of his tongue. He continued to feast on you, his groans muffled by your skin, sending an electric shock through you with every movement. You could feel the pressure building, your release so close, but Luigi wasn’t going to let up. He wanted to push you further, wanted to make you beg for it.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it almost hurt, his nails digging in as he held you still. “All fucking mine. So soft, so perfect”
Your back arched, and you gasped at the overwhelming sensation of his lips, his tongue working in ways that had your thoughts scattered, reduced to nothing but raw need. His moans vibrated against your core as he licked and sucked with relentless fervor, his grip on you tightening as though he wanted to pull you even closer.
“Tell me how much you want it,” he demanded, his voice rough and low. “Tell me you need me. Tell me you need me to make you come.”
The words sent another wave of heat flooding through your body, and your hips bucked involuntarily as the pressure in your core tightened. You couldn’t think anymore, only feel, and what you felt was him—his mouth, his hands, his entire presence consuming you.
“I—I need you, Luigi,” you gasped, your fingers pulling at his hair, urging him to keep going. “Please, don’t stop.”
He moaned into you, the sound almost animalistic, and the vibrations sent you spiraling further, your body trembling with the effort to hold onto your control. But he wasn’t about to let you keep it. With a final flick of his tongue, he pushed you over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you, your body shaking uncontrollably as your cries filled the room. Luigi held you in place, his grip unyielding, never stopping, never slowing, until every tremor had passed.
When you finally came down, your body still trembling from the force of it, Luigi eased you off him, his hands gentle now, guiding you to lie beside him. His lips and chin were glistening, and he looked up at you with a satisfied grin, his eyes dark with pleasure.
“You were fucking perfect,” he whispered, breathless, his voice thick with pride. “Did you feel how hard I was for you? How much I wanted to make you come?”
You couldn’t find the words, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the experience. He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his lips pressing against your forehead. His hands found your hips, pulling you closer to him. He ran his hands around your soft stomach, admiring every curve and dip.
“You’re mine, amore. You could never hurt me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He gave you another slow, tender kiss, the kind that made your heart flutter even as your body still hummed with the aftereffects of what he'd just done to you.
You let out a breathless laugh, a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re crazy lu,” you whispered, your body still recovering from the bliss he'd just given you.
He grinned wickedly, the glint of mischief still dancing in his eyes. “Crazy about you,” he replied, and without warning, his hands were back on your hips, pulling you closer, his lips finding your neck as he pressed his body against yours. “And I’ll keep showing you just how much.”
#luigi mangione#luigi mangione smut#luigi mangione x reader#luigi x reader#luigi mangione x reader smut
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With Strings Attached
Isagi Yoichi x Reader , 2.4k words , genre: smut
You and Isagi have been best friends for years, but your relationship has always been more like a couple's— cuddling, teasing, and sharing intimate moments. One night, while you're both curled up together, the lines between friendship and something more blur, leading to an unexpected twist in your relationship.
Isagi Yoichi didn’t know when his feelings for you shifted, but he knew they were no longer simple.
You were his best friend—his anchor. From the moment you walked into his life, you’d been by his side through every win and loss, every dream and doubt. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.
He noticed it in the little things. The way his heartbeat sped up when your fingers brushed against his. The way his mind replayed your laugh like a favorite song. The way he leaned into your hugs, hoping you wouldn’t pull away too soon.
Isagi wasn’t blind to how you two looked to others. He heard the teasing from his teammates, the whispers when you’d show up at his games and run to him first, arms wide open. They’d laugh and call him lucky, and he’d grin, pretending it didn’t get to him. But it did. Not because he minded their jokes—but because he wished he had the courage to admit that maybe they were right.
The cuddling, the hand-holding, the cheek kisses—those weren’t things best friends typically did, were they? But you never seemed to question it, so he didn’t either.
Isagi Yoichi didn’t know how he ended up like this—your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as the two of you lounged on the couch. You were focused on the movie playing on the screen, while Isagi couldn’t concentrate on anything except how close you were.
Your scent—something soft and familiar—filled his senses, making his thoughts scatter. He tried to calm himself, but his heart was racing. Every small movement you made, every shift of your weight against him, sent a jolt through him.
This was normal, he told himself. Best friends could cuddle like this, right? Except, nothing about this felt normal to him. It felt far too intimate, too perfect.
Then, out of nowhere, you turned.
The sudden movement caught Isagi off guard as you shifted to face him. Your arms slipped around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He froze. Completely. His body stiffened as if his brain had short-circuited.
You didn’t seem to notice. Your head rested against his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck. “This is nice,” you murmured, your voice soft and content.
Isagi felt like he was malfunctioning. His face burned, his hands hovered awkwardly in the air as he debated where to place them. Should he hug you back? Should he say something? His thoughts were spiraling, and he was acutely aware of how close your lips were to his cheek.
“Y-Yeah,” he managed to stutter, his voice embarrassingly shaky. He finally let his hands settle lightly on your back, but his muscles were still tense.
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your face mere inches from his. “Are you okay?” you asked, tilting your head in concern.
“Y-Yeah! Totally fine!” he blurted, his blush intensifying. He was lying through his teeth. His heart felt like it was about to explode, and he was certain you could hear it.
You blinked at him, studying his face for a moment, before a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re blushing, Yoichi.”
“I—I’m not!” he protested, turning his face away, though he knew it was futile.
You chuckled softly, the sound sending butterflies through his chest. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”
Isagi thought he might actually die right there on the couch. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would give out. You, however, didn’t seem to realize the chaos you were causing inside him.
You leaned back into his chest, settling comfortably in his arms again, as if nothing had happened. Isagi let out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself.
Best friends, he reminded himself. Best friends.
But as he held you, feeling your warmth against him, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could keep pretending that was all you were.
Isagi was absolutely losing it.
You had just turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace that felt way too intimate for his already scattered thoughts. As if that wasn’t enough, you pressed yourself closer, resting your head against his chest. That small, innocent gesture sent his heart racing so fast it felt like it might break out of his chest.
And then… it happened.
He felt it—down there, shit he got hard. Heat rushed through his body, and he froze in sheer panic as he realized what was happening. The weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your body pressed so snugly against his—it was too much for him to handle.
Oh shit. This can’t be happening, he thought, his face going scarlet.
His hands hovered awkwardly for a moment before settling stiffly on your back, but that did nothing to help the situation. Every shift you made as you adjusted yourself only heightened his awareness of his… problem.
She’s going to feel it. Oh god, she’s going to feel it, his mind screamed.
You shifted again, completely unaware of the chaos you were causing, and Isagi’s breath hitched. He was as tense as a coiled spring, his entire body screaming at him to do something, anything, to make this less awkward.
“Yoichi?” you asked softly, pulling back slightly to look up at him. Your brows furrowed in concern. “You’re so stiff. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” he yelped, a little too loudly, his voice cracking embarrassingly.
You blinked at him, your concern deepening. “You don’t seem fine. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
He scrambled for an excuse, his mind racing. “It’s—uh—my leg! Yeah, my leg’s cramping from training earlier. That’s all!”
Your eyes widened, and you immediately tried to pull away. “Oh no! Do you need me to move? Should I get you water or something?”
“No!” he blurted, his hands instinctively tightening on your waist before he quickly loosened them. “I mean—no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just… stay.”
You tilted your head at him, clearly skeptical, but you eventually nodded and leaned back into him. “Alright… but tell me if it gets worse, okay?”
“Y-Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as his face burned.
As you settled against him again, Isagi tried to focus on anything else—the movie, the rain outside, literally anything. But all he could feel was you, pressed so perfectly against him, and the humiliating reminder of his very obvious reaction.
This is a nightmare, he thought, gritting his teeth. She’s definitely going to notice.
And yet, even through his panic, a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered what he’d been trying to ignore for so long. That this wasn’t just a physical reaction—it was you. It was always you. You were the reason his heart raced, the reason his thoughts spiraled, the reason he wanted so much more than just being your best friend.
But right now? He’d settle for surviving this without you noticing his very inconvenient problem.
Isagi thought he was barely holding it together.
After your hug, you leaned back against him again, your body pressed close, warm, and perfectly relaxed, while he was anything but. His face was still burning, his heart pounding, and his problem wasn’t going away.
Just stay calm, he told himself, trying desperately to focus on the movie playing in front of you. But then, you shifted
It wasn’t intentional—you were just readjusting yourself to get comfortable—but as you did, your hips pressed firmly against his crotch. Specifically, against him.
Isagi froze. Completely. His breath caught in his throat as every nerve in his body went haywire.
Oh god. Oh no. She’s right there. She’s going to notice my fucking boner.
He wanted to move, to say something, to do anything to fix this, but it was impossible. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before clenching into fists at his sides. He couldn’t risk touching you and making it worse.
You, blissfully unaware of the chaos you were causing, sighed contentedly and settled deeper into his arms, pressing yourself even closer. Isagi’s jaw tightened, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared straight ahead at the TV, pretending to care about the movie.
But he didn’t hear a single word of it.
His entire focus was on you and the way your body was perfectly fitted against his, and the very obvious reaction he was failing miserably to suppress. He was sure you could feel it now—there was no way you couldn’t—and the thought made his face burn hotter than ever.
“Yoichi,” you mumbled, your voice soft and casual, “why are you so stiff? Relax a little.”
Relax? Relax? He almost laughed, but it came out as a choked noise instead.
“I’m—uh—just cold!” he lied, his voice embarrassingly shaky. “Yeah, cold. That’s all.”
You tilted your head slightly, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “Cold? But it’s so warm in here. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Y-Yeah! Totally fine!” he blurted, his hands gripping the couch cushions to stop them from trembling.
You gave him a small, concerned smile before turning your attention back to the screen. But as you shifted again, pressing even closer to his crotch, Isagi let out a quiet, involuntary groan that he immediately tried to cover up with a cough.
She didn’t hear that. She didn’t notice. She didn’t notice, he chanted desperately in his head, though the heat in his face and the tension in his body were telling a very different story.
This was torture. Absolute torture. And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop.
You turned to face him, your eyes locking together in an unspoken moment. Without warning, Isagi couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned in and kissed you softly, and you kissed him back, the connection feeling electrifying. This was the first time your lips had met, and though you two had shared countless intimate moments as friends, this kiss felt different—more significant, more vulnerable.
Isagi then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently brushing against yours.
It was the first time either of you had crossed that line, and it took you by surprise. For a moment, you hesitated, but then, unable to resist, you kissed him back with equal fervor.
The kiss grew more passionate, the connection between you both intensifying with each movement.
Isagi suddenly grabs your thighs, pulling you closer until you're flush against him. You can feel his obvious arousal pressing against your core through his pants. A soft, needy whimper escapes your lips as you instinctively grind against him, seeking more friction. “I-Isagi..”
You bit your lower lip as you slowly unbuckled Isagi's belt, his eyes locked onto yours with unspoken permission. As his boxers become the only barrier between you and his obvious arousal, you can see the massive bulge straining against the thin fabric.
You hesitantly pull down Isagi's boxers, revealing his throbbing, massive member. You wrap your small hand around it, stroking slowly as he whimpers and bucks his hips. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion. Fuck... I need to be inside you.
Isagi swiftly lifts you up and pins you beneath him, flipping your skirt up in the process. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them aside to expose your glistening folds. Look how fucking wet you are for me already...
His fingers trail up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before circling your clit. You arch your back, desperate for more contact as he teases you. You're so ready for me, aren't you, baby? Look at how you're dripping...
He wraps his fingers around his thick, throbbing length and positions the plump, pinkish head at your slick, trembling opening. He rubs himself against you, teasing your entrance without pushing in, making you whimper and beg. "Please, please, please, yoichi put it in"
Unable to resist your desperate pleas any longer, Isagi surges forward, sinking his hard cock deep into your tight, welcoming heat in one powerful thrust. A low groan tears from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clutching him. “Fuuuck yes, take my cock”
He begins to piston his hips, driving his massive length in and out of your soaked pussy with brutal intensity. Your moans echo through the room as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air. “Ahhh fuck, you’re so tight.”
He hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts your legs over his shoulders, changing the angle and allowing him to plunge even deeper inside you. He pounds into you mercilessly, hitting spots inside you that make you scream and writhe beneath him. “Yo-ichi feels so good! M’so close ichi” you say.
His breathing grows heavier, his movements becoming slightly more frantic "Fuck, I'm close too... You feel so good, baby." He leans in, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone, a stark contrast to his rough thrusts "Cum with me, okay?"
He buries his face in your neck, his moans and heavy breaths warming your skin. His thrusts become more erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he nears the edge. "Fuck, I can't hold back... Come on, baby, squeeze me just like that..."
You let out a breathy cry "Ichi, I'm gonna—" Your body convulses around him, your inner walls clutching desperately at his cock as you climax. The sensation of your orgasm pushes him over the edge "Fuck, baby—"
He throws his head back, his body stiffening as he finds his release, pulsing hot and thick inside you. He stays like that for a moment, their bodies entwined and breathing heavily, before slowly collapsing on top of you, his face buried in your neck. "Damn..."
He lies there for a while, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he tries to catch his breath. Slowly, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes soft and satisfied. "You okay, baby?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair out of your face gently.
Isagi rolls off of you, pulling you close to his sweat-slicked chest. He chuckles softly, his voice warm and tinged with affection. "I guess that confession was more...physical than I intended. But hey, actions speak louder than words, right?"
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock smut#blue lock isagi#isagi yoichi#bllk isagi#isagi x reader#isagi x you#isagi x y/n#isagi smut#isagi fluff#isagi yoichi smut#blue lock fluff#micheal kaiser#itoshi sae#itoshi rin#bachira meguru#reo mikage#itoshi rin fluff#blue lock angst#michael kaiser#rin itoshi#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock x female reader#yoichi isagi
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Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Orginal Character Erotic Series.
18+ Minors DNI
Chapter 2
Tori adored teaching dance almost as much as she loved performing, but a last-minute call from another of the instructors meant she’d been tasked with taking the class instead, completely throwing off her dinner plans with Jude.
Rather than having him collect her from her apartment, they decided that Jude would swing by the dance studio to pick Tori up before they made their way to his place, where his chef was set to prepare dinner for the two of them.
“Beautiful girls! One more run-through and we are done for the day.” Tori exclaimed to her class of preteens as she pressed play starting the piece of music they were dancing to over.
The energy in the studio was electric as the music filled the air, a vibrant mix of rhythm and melody. Tori clapped her hands together, energizing her students, their eager faces lighting up with excitement. She loved moments like this, watching the girls, full of enthusiasm, moving in sync with the beat, their innocence reminding her of her childhood passion for dance.
As the music started, Tori took a step back, her eyes roaming over the eager faces, filled with determination as they followed her instructions. She couldn’t help but smile, swept away by their spirit. Each pirouette, every leap they executed, ignited the love she had for her craft—teaching them not only the moves but also the joy and confidence that dance could bring into their lives.
“Let’s focus on those transitions, girls! Remember to keep your arms fluid and your movements sharp!” she encouraged, her words ringing above the music, infusing her students with motivation.
Despite her excitement, Tori felt a longing in her chest. She had been looking forward to dinner with Jude, the thought of their intimate evening together floating in her mind like a sweet dream. But all of that anticipation had now transformed into a fleeting thought as she poured herself into the class.
“Five, six, seven, eight! And one, two, three… spin!” Tori counted, her body moving lightly along with the girls, demonstrating the moves with a grace she had honed over countless performances. The music surged, and she felt her energy rising, moving through the routine seamlessly.
As the final notes of the song echoed through the studio, Tori turned down the music and clapped her hands together, signalling an end to class. “Great job today, everyone! You’ve all worked so hard! I’m so proud of you!”
The girls erupted in cheers, giddy and full of laughter as they chatted and gathered their belongings. Tori smiled and waved them off, feeling the familiar warmth of pride fill her chest.
Just as she was packing her bag, her gaze flickered to the clock on the wall. She hoped Jude had arrived by now. There was a flutter of anticipation in her belly at the thought of seeing him.
As she gathered her belongings and cleared what little mess the girls had left behind, Tori’s phone began to ring in her bag.
She fished it out, her heart racing as she saw Jude's name flash across the screen. A smile broke across her face, and she quickly answered, eager to hear his voice.
“Hi!” she said, trying to keep her tone light despite the rush of excitement.
“Hey, beautiful! I’m outside the studio. Are you almost done?” Jude’s voice was warm and inviting, sending a thrill through her.
“Just wrapping up! I’ll be right out,” Tori replied, her heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him. She quickly finished packing her bag, her mind racing with thoughts of the kiss they shared the evening prior.
“I can’t wait to see you,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Me too! I’m sorry about the change of plans,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jude reassured her, his tone light. “I’m just happy I get to see you. Plus, I’m sure your students needed you.”
Tori felt a rush of warmth at his words. “Thanks! They were amazing today. I love teaching them,” she said, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.
“Sounds like you had a good time. I’m looking forward to seeing you,” he replied, and she could sense the readiness in his voice.
“Definitely! I’m leaving the studio now. I'll see you in a second.” Tori said before handing up the phone so she could pull her sweats over the leotard she wore, before putting on her coat and sneakers so she could head out to meet Jude.
The street outside of the studio was rather empty, barring a sleek black Mercedes parked at the curb, the low smooth rumble of the engine humming from the car before the driver door pushed open and Jude stepped out of it dressed casually in a black sweatsuit.
Tori’s heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, his attire so much more relaxed than the tuxedo he wore the day before, but just as handsome.
“Hi,” Tori greeted, her voice softening as she took in the sight of him. The way he stood there, exuding confidence and warmth, made her feel a rush of affection.
“Hi,” Jude repeated, his smile wide and genuine. He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace and Tori couldn't help but inhale his musky scent. She melted into him, as his arms tightened before he released her from his hold.
“Can I take this?” Jude asked, his voice calm and warm as he reached out, his fingers gently grazing Tori’s as he moved to lift her gym bag from her side.
“Thank you!” Tori responded, a smile illuminating her face as she surrendered the bag to him. She observed with appreciation as Jude effortlessly hoisted the bag into the trunk of his car, his movements smooth and confident.
Gently closing the trunk with a soft thud, Jude walked around the car, he reached the passenger side and pulled the door open, a warm smile on his face as he gestured for Tori to climb inside. The late afternoon winter sun casting a golden glow over the city.
Still dressed in her ballet clothes and feeling rather sweaty, she anticipated arriving at Jude's house so she could use his shower. The entire arrangement was slightly bizarre for the first time two people were hanging out.
Their conversation was light and flowing as Jude drove to his house, the traffic not as heavy as expected for a Saturday afternoon much to his delight.
Tori was in slight awe as she watched the cityscape gradually give way to the suburbs, each house they passed seemingly bigger than the last as they neared Jude’s neighbourhood.
After an Instagram search of Jude when she got in the night before, it became apparent to Tori that he was a big deal. He had millions of followers across social media and frequent endorsements with massive brands. The realization made her heart race with anxiety.
She hated to make assumptions, but it was seldom that men like Jude came without a flurry of women behind them, regardless of their relationship status.
Victoria had learned that she was two years older than him, he hailed from the West Midlands and before moving to Madrid he had lived out in Germany where he also played soccer.
Tori’s mind was racing with thoughts. What if Jude was just another entitled man who enjoyed the thrill of the chase? Dispelling the nagging doubt in her mind she focused on the moment. He had been nothing but genuine with her so far, and their connection felt real.
“So, what’s your chef cooking for us tonight?” Tori smirked, shifting the conversation into safer, more playful territory as the suburban landscape unfolded like a movie set outside the window.
Jude chuckled, glancing over at her with a playful grin. “Whatever you like, that's the beauty of it.”
Tori raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh really?”
He nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. “Absolutely. But I have a few suggestions if you don’t know what you want.”
“What's your favourite meal?” she asked, leaning back slightly in her seat, eager for his input.
“It’s pretty basic but I'm a sucker for a steak,” Jude admitted, a hint of mischief in his voice. “But I think homemade pasta is also a solid backup.”
“I’m not sure if you mean to, but you sound obnoxiously rich right now,” Tori said teasingly, making Jude laugh as he turned the steering wheel, rounding onto another street, showcasing homes that looked as though they could grace the covers of Architectural Digest.
Jude chuckled, shooting her a sidelong glance. “Well, I assure you, I’m really not. I just happen to enjoy good food and have a great chef who makes it all happen. It does make things a lot more enjoyable, though.”
Tori smiled, feeling more at ease with the playful banter. “If that’s the case, I’m looking forward to dinner.” She paused for a moment, a flicker of curiosity crossing her mind. “What else does your chef cook? Besides the pasta and steak, of course.”
He thought for a moment, a grin spreading across his face, clearly enjoying the conversation. “I try to avoid sugary foods during the season, but he’s a fucking fantastic baker.”
Tori couldn't help but laugh as she listened to Jude go on about his chef, it was evident that he didn't lead the normal life of a twenty-one-year-old man, but he still seemed extremely down to earth.
“This is me,” Jude said as he tilted his head towards a tall black gate, before turning into its driveway.
Reaching for a small fob in the middle compartment of his car, he pressed it and the gate slowly rolled open.
As the car moved slowly up the gravel driveway, Tori gazed at Jude’s house, a stunning masterpiece of modern architecture. Its sleek lines and minimalist design exuded sophistication, with large glass windows reflecting the soft glow of the setting winter sun. The structure was both imposing and inviting, with a sense of warmth despite its grandness.
The entrance was decorated with two elegant sculptures, and the subtle outdoor lighting highlighted the clean lines of the building, creating an atmosphere of serene luxury.
“Wow, Jude, your house is beautiful,” Tori gushed, her eyes wide with admiration.
Jude parked the car smoothly and turned to her, a proud but modest smile on his face. “Thanks. I wanted it to feel open and welcoming. It’s a bit different from what I grew up in, but I love it.”
As they stepped out of the car, the crunch of gravel under their feet echoed softly in the quiet evening. Jude guided her towards the front door, using his key to open it before allowing her to enter first.
“I can give you a tour later, but for now would you like anything to drink?” Jude asked as he kicked off his sneakers.
“Water is fine,” Tori replied, feeling a little flustered but excited. She took in her surroundings, the spacious foyer adorned with modern art pieces and a stylish chandelier that cast a warm glow over everything.
Following Jude into the kitchen she watched as he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before he turned and handed it to Tori.
Gracefully accepting the water, Tori trailed behind Jude as he guided her into his living room. The space was warmly lit, and filled with inviting furniture that highlighted a blend of comfort and style. She settled into a soft armchair, the fabric plush against her skin, while Jude took a seat across from her, his demeanour relaxed yet attentive.
Despite the plush comfort of her cushioned seat, Tori couldn't shake the clammy sensation clinging to her skin after a long day of dancing. The remnants of perspiration lingered, making her feel uncomfortable. She turned to Jude, a hint of shyness in her voice, and asked, “Do you mind if I take a shower now?”
“Of course. The guest bathroom is just down the hall,” Jude replied, his smile warm and inviting.
Tori felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Thanks! I won’t be long,” she promised, standing up and making her way toward the hallway. She could feel Jude’s gaze on her as she walked away, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in her chest at the thought of their evening together.
As she stepped into the bathroom, Tori quickly shed her dance clothes, grateful for the opportunity to wash away the day’s exertions. The warm water cascaded over her, soothing her muscles and letting her mind wander. She couldn’t help but think about Jude and how comfortable he made her feel, despite the initial anxiety she had about their relationship.
After a refreshing shower, Tori dried herself off and went to retrieve her clothes from her bag only to realize she’d left them in the living room with Jude.
Opening the bathroom door, Victoria stepped into the bedroom feeling herself becoming slightly panicked.
Walking over to the bedroom door, she pulled it open and let out a sigh of distress. Tori stood looking out into the dimly lit hallway, feeling utterly exposed and at a loss for what to do. The soft fabric of the towel clung to her damp skin, offering little comfort as she weighed her options. She glanced nervously around Jude's house, its unfamiliar outlines and shadows amplifying her discomfort. Retrieving her bag and clothes from the living room seemed like an impossible task. The thought of wandering through the house, dressed only in a towel, sent a wave of embarrassment crashing over her. She knew she had to muster the courage to make the trek, but the vulnerability of the moment paralyzed her.
“Fuck,” she huffed as she crossed the threshold of Jude’s guest room into the long hallway, goosebumps covering the surface of her skin as she quickly made her way down it, attempting to keep quiet as she went.
Making her way into Jude’s living room where she left her bag, Tori refused to lift her head as the murmur of the television and the soft glow of the screen filled the room. She could hear Jude’s voice, low and relaxed, as he chatted with someone on the phone. The sound made her heart race, a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling within her.
Tori took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She could see her bag just a few feet away, but the thought of Jude catching a glimpse of her in just a towel sent her pulse racing. She hesitated, her mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous she must look, how vulnerable she felt.
“Okay, just grab the bag and get out of here,” she whispered to herself, steeling her resolve.
With a glance toward the sectional where Jude sat, she darted forward, her bare feet silent against the cool floor. She reached her bag and fumbled with the straps, her fingers trembling slightly as she pulled it into her grasp. Just as she was about to retrieve her clothes, she heard Jude’s voice grow louder, and her heart dropped.
“Yeah, I’ll call you back in a minute,” he said, and Tori froze, her breath caught in her throat. She could hear him moving around, and she knew she had to act fast.
In a panic, she stood up and quickly turned to head back toward the hallway, but as she did, she bumped into the edge of the coffee table, sending a small decorative item clattering to the floor.
“Shit!” she whispered, her heart racing as she turned to see Jude’s head snap in her direction.
“Tori is everything okay?” Jude asked sitting up, reaching for the television remote so he could mute it as he gave her his undivided attention.
Tori felt her cheeks flush as she stood there, clutching her bag to her chest like a shield. The towel felt even more inadequate under his gaze, and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears.
“Everything’s fine!” she stammered, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I left my bag down here.”
Tori wanted the floor to open up and swallow her, it was only the second time of ever been in Jude's presence and she stood in front of him in nothing but a towel. The vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, and she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.
Jude’s expression softened a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You know, you could have just called me,” he smirked unable to keep a straight face.
“My phone is in here, too,” she explained clutching the bag a little tighter.
“Then you could’ve shouted my name,” he teased, his tone light and playful. “I would have come running.”
Tori couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. “Yeah, right. I’d rather not have you see me like this,” she said, gesturing to the towel that felt like it was shrinking by the second.
“Honestly, you look fine,” Jude replied, his gaze steady and reassuring, although internally he willed himself not to make his gaze slip to her body. “But if you’re uncomfortable, I can cover my eyes until you leave the room.”
Tori's laughter faded, replaced by a mix of embarrassment and relief. Jude's playful demeanour helped to ease the tension, but the heat in her cheeks remained. She could feel the weight of his gaze, and it sent a shiver down her spine, both thrilling and terrifying.
“Very funny,” she replied, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “Although, I think it's a little late to cover your eyes.”
Jude chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair point. But I promise I’m not going to take a mental picture or anything,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to be polite.”
Tori felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach, but there was something about Jude’s easygoing nature that made her feel a little less exposed. “Thanks,” she said, her voice softening. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be naked in front of you the first time we’re hanging out.”
“What about the second?” Jude teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
Tori laughed, shaking her head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I think I’ll stick to clothes for the foreseeable future.”
“You’re beautiful in and out of them,” Jude replied, his tone sincere, and Tori felt her heart skip a beat at the compliment.
“Wow, smooth talker, huh?” she said, trying to keep her tone light despite the warmth flooding her cheeks and stomach. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Honestly, I’m just speaking the truth,” Jude said, his brow furrowed in sincerity as he looked directly at her. “But really, there’s no need to feel uncomfortable. It’s just a towel, after all. We’re all human, and these moments happen.” His tone was steady, aimed at easing the tension in the room.
Offering Jude a shy smile, Tori turned on her heels and left Jude’s living room so she could head back to the guest room to finally get dressed.
When she returned she found that Jude was no longer lounging in his living room, making her way into the kitchen Tori couldn't help but smile as she walked into the room to find Jude enthusiastically talking to a greying olive-skinned man.
“Tori, this is Chef Ruben,” he smiled as he turned to look at her before turning back to him.
“Nice to meet you,” Tori said, her voice friendly as she extended her hand toward the chef.
“Pleasure’s all mine, Tori,” Ruben replied, shaking her hand warmly. His eyes sparkled with kindness, and Tori felt instantly at ease. “Jude was telling me you were curious about what was on the menu tonight?”
“Yes, I’m curious! I’ve heard a lot about your cooking,” Tori replied, her enthusiasm genuine. She couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of enjoying a meal prepared by someone who seemed to have such a passion for food.
Ruben chuckled, a warm, welcoming smile spreading across his face. “Well, you’re in for a treat! I’m making a herb-crusted rack of lamb with roasted vegetables and a side of creamy mashed potatoes. If you have room for dessert, I prepared a homemade salted caramel ice cream.”
Tori’s eyes widened, and she felt her stomach rumble at the mention of the meal. “That sounds incredible! You’re making me hungry just talking about it,” she said, laughing lightly.
Jude leaned against the counter, crossing his arms with a smirk. “I told you,” he said, looking at Tori with a playful glint in his eyes. “Ruben’s cooking is legendary. You’ll never want to eat anywhere else after this.”
Tori chuckled, her excitement palpable. “I can believe it! You’re lucky to have such a talented chef at your disposal.”
Ruben waved a hand dismissively, his face lighting up with a grin as he turned back to the vegetables he'd been preparing.
“Come with me,” Jude smirked as he held out his hand for Tori to take, leading her back into his living room to allow Ruben his space and give them more privacy.
Although they had communicated a few times throughout the day, they had yet to bring up the kiss they'd shared the night before after meeting at Tori’s company's gala.
As they stepped into the living room, Tori felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The atmosphere was cozy, and the faint aroma of herbs and spices wafted in from the kitchen, making her stomach growl with anticipation.
“So, what do you think of my humble abode?” Jude asked, gesturing around the room with a playful flourish.
Tori looked around, taking in the elegant décor and modern furnishings. “It’s beautiful. Very… you,” she replied, smiling as she settled onto the plush couch. “I love how open and airy it feels.”
Jude chuckled softly as he sat down beside her, their knees nearly touching. “I wanted it to be a space where people feel comfortable. You know, a place where we can hang out, eat good food, and just enjoy each other’s company.”
The way he spoke sent a flutter through her chest. “I can definitely see that,” Tori said, her voice softening. “It feels welcoming.”
Jude leaned back against the couch, his gaze steady on her. “I’m really glad you could come tonight. I know our plans got a bit jumbled, but I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Me too,” Tori replied, her heart racing slightly as she met his gaze. The air between them felt charged, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I was a bit worried I’d messed things up.”
“Not at all,” Jude reassured her, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch sent shivers down her spine, and Tori felt herself lean into him instinctively. “I think it worked out perfectly. We get to enjoy a great meal and each other’s company.”
Tori felt her cheeks flush at the intimacy of the moment. “You’re right,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m really glad I get to spend time with you.”
“Me too,” Jude replied, his voice low and sincere. He hesitated for a moment, then added, “About last night… I just wanted to say that I enjoyed the kiss. I didn’t expect it, but it felt right.”
Tori’s heart raced at his words. “I felt the same way,” she admitted, her cheeks heating up as she remembered the warmth of his lips against hers. “It surprised me, but it was nice.”
Jude's expression softened, and he leaned slightly closer, closing the distance between them. “I’d like to explore that more if you’re open to it.”
Tori’s breath caught in her throat. She had been thinking about it since they parted ways the previous evening. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice steady despite her racing heart.
Leaning into her lips, Jude’s eyes met with Tori’s as they slowly moved closer, their breaths mingling in the space between them. The anticipation hung thick in the air, electrifying and intoxicating. When their lips finally connected, it was gentle at first, a soft brush that ignited a fire within both of them.
Jude's hand travelled to the back of Tori's neck, pulling her in deeper as their kiss intensified. Tori instinctively leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop her. The kiss spoke volumes, conveying unspoken desires and promises that lingered just beneath the surface.
As they pulled away, both breathless, Tori couldn’t help but smile at Jude, her heart fluttering like a butterfly in her chest. She could see the hunger in his eyes mirroring her own, and it made her pulse quicken.
“So…” Tori started, her voice playful, trying to lighten the mood. “Is this part of your plan to keep me entertained while Chef Ruben conjures up magic in the kitchen?”
Jude chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. “Maybe. But honestly, I just wanted a reason to kiss you again,” he admitted, his gaze piercing yet inviting.
“I think I can get on board with that plan,” Tori replied, her playful demeanour having returned, strengthened by the immediate chemistry they had.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching from the kitchen broke the moment. Chef Ruben emerged, wiping his hands on a towel. “Dinner is almost ready.” He peered at them with an amused smile, as if he knew exactly what moment he had interrupted.
Tori felt her cheeks flush as she and Jude quickly pulled apart, both of them trying to regain their composure. The playful atmosphere shifted slightly, but the warmth of the moment lingered in the air.
“Perfect timing, Chef,” Jude said, a hint of laughter in his voice as he leaned back against the couch, trying to appear casual as Ruben turned and left the room.
Victoria chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement, turning to look at Jude as he stood to his feet holding out his hand for her guiding her into the dining room where Ruben had set two places at the table for them.
Pulling out Tori’s chair for her, Jude gestured for her to sit down before taking his seat. A knowing smile on his face as he awaited their dinner being served.
“Is this an everyday thing for you?” Tori asked as she took in the dining room before his eyes landed back on Jude. “Candle-lit dinners and gourmet meals.”
“No, most of the time my mum will cook for me or Ruben will just leave my dinner in the microwave for whenever I get around to eating it,” Jude explained.
He understood how glamorous his life may have appeared from the outside looking in, and despite all he had, he still maintained as humble a lifestyle as a man in his position would.
Time flew by as Tori and Jude sat in his dining room, the evening passing as giving way to the nighttime as they spoke about any and everything.
Ruben had left around two hours prior after cleaning up the mess he made while cooking, before leaving their dessert in the refrigerator for them.
It wasn't until Jude's phone rang in his pocket that Tori remembered her own, and when she pulled it out she was surprised to see it was nearing the hour of midnight.
“Wow, time flew by,” Tori said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I didn’t realize it was so late!”
Jude chuckled, a hint of surprise in his voice as he checked his watch. “Yeah, it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re having fun. I guess we got a little carried away with our conversation.”
Tori smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her at the thought of their evening together. “I enjoyed it. You’re easy to talk to.”
“Same here,” Jude replied, leaning back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “I enjoy your company.”
Tori felt her heart flutter at his words. “Thank you, I've been told the very opposite before.”
Just then, Jude’s phone buzzed again, interrupting the moment. He glanced at the screen and frowned slightly. “It’s my manager. I should probably take this,” he said, standing up and moving a few steps away to answer the call.
Tori watched him, her heart racing slightly as she thought about how different their lives were. Jude was a rising star, and she was just a dancer trying to make a name for herself. She couldn’t help but wonder how or why their lives truly came to align.
As Jude spoke on the phone, Tori took a moment to gather her thoughts before standing to her feet so she could prepare to leave. The evening had been fun, but she didn't want to overstay her welcome.
Grabbing the plates they ate from, Tori brought them to the kitchen so she could place them into the sink before going in search of her belongings.
When Jude’s phone conversation came to an end, he returned to the kitchen, a slight frown still lingering on his face. “Sorry about that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Business never sleeps, I guess.”
Tori smiled, trying to ease the tension. “No worries, I was just cleaning up a bit. I didn’t want to leave a mess behind.”
Jude chuckled softly, leaning against the counter. “You didn’t have to do that. But I appreciate it.”
“I just figured it was the least I could do after such an amazing dinner,” Tori replied, feeling a sense of warmth at the compliment. “Seriously, the food was incredible. I‘m lucky to have experienced that. But it's super late and I should probably get going.”
“You don't have to,” Jude said, his tone shifting slightly as he stepped closer to her. “I mean, if you want to stay a bit longer, I’d love you to.”
Tori felt her heart flutter at his invitation. The thought of leaving felt premature, especially after such a lovely evening. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice softening. “But I don’t want to impose on you, I've known you twenty-four hours and you've already dropped me home and given me dinner.”
“You’re not imposing at all,” Jude reassured her, his eyes warm and sincere. “I genuinely want you to stay. Plus, it’s late, and I’d feel better knowing you’re safe here.”
Tori felt a rush of warmth at his words, her heart swelling with affection. “Okay, I’ll stay a little longer,” she said, a smile breaking across her face.
“Great,” Jude replied, his expression brightening. “How about we watch a movie or something? I have a few good ones lined up.”
“Sounds good,” Tori agreed, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her. She loved the idea of curling up on the couch with him, enjoying the warmth of his presence.
Jude led her back to the living room, where he grabbed the remote and settled onto the couch, gesturing for her to join him. Tori nestled in beside him, feeling the heat radiating from his body as they sank into the cushions.
As the opening credits rolled, Tori found herself stealing glances at Jude, who was focused on the screen. She couldn’t help but admire the way the soft light illuminated his features, the way his lips curved into a smile at the funny moments in the film.
Halfway through the movie, Tori felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. She leaned her head against Jude’s shoulder, feeling safe and content. Jude glanced down at her, a soft smile playing on his lips as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.
“Very,” Tori replied, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She felt a sense of peace envelope her, the stresses of the day fading away as she relaxed against him.
As the movie continued, Tori felt Jude’s fingers gently brushing through her hair, a tender gesture that sent shivers down her spine. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and in that moment, the air between them shifted.
Jude’s eyes darkened with desire, and Tori felt her heart race as he leaned in closer. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” Tori breathed, her heart pounding in her chest.
Their lips met softly at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened as the kiss ignited a fire within them both. Tori melted against him, her hands finding their way to his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
Jude responded eagerly, his hands roaming down her back, pulling her against him as the kiss grew more passionate. Tori felt a rush of heat flood her body, her senses heightened as they lost themselves in each other.
Pulling Tori into her lap so she straddled him, Jude wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close as their kiss deepened. Tori could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and it sent a thrill through her. She couldn't recall the last time she felt so desired, so wanted, and it both exhilarated and terrified her.
As they kissed, Tori felt the world around them fade away. The flickering light from the television was just a backdrop to the intensity of the moment, and all that mattered was the connection they were sharing. Jude’s hands slid up her back, his fingers going beneath her top as he groaned into her mouth at the realization she wasn't wearing a bra.
Tori gasped softly at the sensation, her body responding instinctively to his touch. The warmth of his hands against her skin sent shivers down her spine, igniting a spark of desire that coursed through her. She felt emboldened, the initial nerves washing away as the kiss deepened and grew more passionate.
Jude pulled her closer, his hands exploring the contours of her back with a tenderness that made her heart race. Tori’s fingers tangled in his hair, and she felt a rush of exhilaration as they lost themselves in the moment, completely consumed by the chemistry crackling between them.
But as the kiss intensified, a small voice in the back of Tori’s mind reminded her of the speed at which things were moving. She reluctantly pulled back, breathless, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched Jude’s eyes for reassurance.
“I should go,” she breathed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and desire, unsure of where the night would head if she remained in his presence.
“Stay,” Jude murmured, a frown on his browline as he looked into Tori’s eyes willing her to heed him. “Please,” he added softly, his voice laced with sincerity.
Leaning down Tori pressed her lips against his once more, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he stood to his feet with her in his arms.
He moved as of she was weightless as he moved from the living room and upstairs to the upper level of his house.
Pushing open his bedroom door without parting lips with Tori, Jude used his foot to close it behind himself, locking them away from the rest of their world.
All rationale had left Tori’s mind and she and Jude indulged in each other, giving in to impulse and desire as they stripped one another until they lay tangled between the sheets.
Jude feasted on her until she was a trembling mess in the middle of his bed. He used his mouth and tongue to render her speechless—he lost himself in the act, tasting and torturing her with his skilled mouth.
“Jude,” Victoria moaned into his ear, her legs wrapping around his waist as he sank into her inch by delicious inch, his hands splayed either side of her head as their eyes met.
“You're so fucking tight,” Jude groaned in awe of the way she felt around him, the heat and sensation almost overwhelming. Victoria's body responded to him, clenching and releasing like she was designed to fit him perfectly.
Her back arched as he filled her completely, sending waves of pleasure coursing through them both. “Yes, just like that,” she encouraged her voice a sultry whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.
He took a moment to drink her in— the way her hair fanned out on the pillow, the flush of her cheeks, and the way her lips parted slightly as she struggled to find words between gasps. Every detail contributed to fueling a fire in him, compelling him to go deeper, to claim her in a way that left no doubt of his desire.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathed, starting a slow, deliberate rhythm. Pulling almost all the way out of Tori before easing back in, moving his hand from beside her head to pin her right leg to the bed, his grip firm on the back of her thigh.
The shift in position conjured a dull ache that felt sinfully good in tandem with the pleasure coursing through her body. His girth and length surpassing any expectation she may have had.
As he pulled almost entirely out before sinking back in, Victoria let out an unrefined moan, her grip on Jude's shoulders tightening as if she might fall off the bed otherwise. "Oh, fuck, yes...just like that," she whined into his ear, her hips bucking slightly to meet his thrusts, the ache growing with every inch that slid back into her.
Her fingers dug into his hair, not pulling but coaxing him closer, her lips finding his neck in search of contact. "You feel so good," she gasped, her teeth drawing along his skin. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"
The pleasure was almost too much, her body trembling with the force of it, but she didn't want it to end, didn't want him to pull back just yet. Tori rolled her hips again, matching his rhythm with a desperate eagerness, urging him deeper, chasing that delicious friction that was fast turning into an inexorable need.
Jude snarled lustfully as he watched his length slip from her, her arousal coating his cock in a glistening sheen.
Turning Tori over onto her stomach in one swift motion, he reached for a pillow at the head of his bed forcing it beneath her to create a deep, perfect arch in her spine that made her hips raise.
Jude couldn't help himself, taking hold of his cock he used the tip to circle her slick entrance.
“Shit,” Victoria cried out, her whole body tingling with suspense as Jude's thick cockhead circled her entrance, teasing her. She wiggled her hips instinctively, trying to urge him inside.
Jude wasted no more time, pressing the head of his cock against her pussy, pushing just enough to feel that gentle resistance, before easing in ballsdeep.
Victoria let out a throaty moan as Jude thrust into her with a force that made the bed tremor beneath the weight of bodies. She arched her back, pushing her hips against him as he began to move, his pace relentless and demanding.
Each deep, powerful stroke of his cock hit a spot inside her that made her eyelids roll shut. Tori's mind emptied of all thought, reduced to only sensations—the feeling of Jude's thick length thrusting into her, the sound of their harsh breaths and slick skin colliding, the way his hands gripped her hips and held her in place.
She wrapped her arms around the pillow, using it to steady herself as Jude fucked her with an intensity that left her breathless and overwhelmed.
His thrusts picked up speed, becoming almost brutal in their execution, and Victoria met each one with an answering roll of her hips, lost to the pleasure that threatened to consume her.
When she felt Jude’s fingers come to grip the hair at the back of her head, all bets were off. Tori let out a cry of pleasure as her eyes rolled shut, the arch in her back deepening as her thighs began to tremble.
Panting heavily, Jude gripped the back of Tori's head, tilting it to the side as he continued his merciless exploration of her depths. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, the force of his thrusts hitting the spongy flesh of her cervix and sending shivers of pure bliss coursing through her. Her moans of ecstasy echoed through the room, fueling his own growing need.
As Jude's grip tightened, Tori's entire body went stiff, her cries becoming choked whimpers of pleasure. She'd never experienced anything like this before, Jude's size and strength pushing her to the very edge of what she could take.
“Cum for me, Tori,” Jude groaned, his pace slowing as he watched himself disappear inside of her, completely under her spell.
"Tori," he groaned into her ear, his voice guttural and primal. The sound of his arousal hung heavily in the air as he pounded into her, her body moving in rhythmic time with his.
Victoria's mind shattered as Jude continued to take her, his relentless thrusts driving her to the brink. She felt so full, so completely filled and claimed by him.
"Yes, yes, y-yes..." she chanted brokenly, her words dissolving into helpless cries of ecstasy.
Jude's fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, gripping her as he laid into her, each stroke easing her closer to the edge. He could feel her walls spasming around him, her pleasure knotting tighter and tighter until it threatened to come undone.
She was going to come undone beneath him, and Jude was determined to be the one to send her over. He wanted to hold her in his arms as she committed herself to the pinnacle of pleasure.
Despite the silent cry that fell from her mouth, Jude felt it as she came on him. Her arousal dripped down the innards of her thighs as she gripped the pillow beneath the sated body.
Pulling out of Tori, Jude held his length in his hand as he eyed her sweaty body, between her legs flushed and slightly swollen. He watched as she turned over onto her back, a playful glint in her eyes. Victoria's lips curved into a sultry smile as she beckoned him closer with a gesture of her finger.
“Not yet,” Tori purred, her voice laced with mischief. She pushed herself up onto her knees, an inviting shine in her gaze as her tongue swiped across her lips. Jude's breath hitched in his throat, anticipation pooling in his stomach as he watched her.
With an intentional slowness to her movements, Tori leaned forward, her shiny raven hair cascading over her shoulders in a soft curtain that framed her face. She took her time, savouring the moment as she moved closer to his cock, barely an inch away. Her breath washed over him, warm and tantalizing, and she couldn't help but smirk at the way he tensed up.
“I want to taste you,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. She opened her mouth wide, taking him in slowly, her tongue swirling around the tip before she sank deeper, relishing the sensation of him filling her mouth.
“Fuck, Tori,” he groaned, his hands instinctively tangling in her hair as she began to bob her head up and down, her mouth perfect seal as she showcased her talent. Her lips and chin glistened with drool, slicking his shaft as she pulled back, only to thrust forward again, taking him as deep as she could manage.
Tori could feel him throbbing against her tongue, the heat of him igniting a fire inside her. She revelled in the taste of him, the way he filled her mouth, an offering of pleasure she was more than happy to accept. Each thrust of her mouth was accompanied by soft, breathy moans that vibrated against his length, driving him wild.
Jude's fingers gripped her hair tightly, guiding her rhythm as he watched the bliss dance across her face. “Just like that, Tori,” he encouraged, his voice thick and deep with arousal. “You’re so fucking good at this.”
She picked up the pace, swirling her tongue around his shaft as she took him deeper, pressing down to the base. The sound of her wetness filled the air, a stimulating melody that only stoked the flames of his desire. Victoria loved watching Jude lose himself in the moment, the way his brow furrowed in pleasure and his jaw slackened, his breath coming in quick, erratic gasps.
She could feel his tension riding, his breaths growing more shallow as she wrapped her lips tighter around him, sucking hard while pumping the rest of him with her small, dexterous hands. His hand found her cheek, urging her to take him even deeper.
“Breathe through it, Tori,” he murmured, his voice throaty. “Give me your fucking throat.”
Just as he was about to lose his grip on control, she pulled back, her mouth popping off with a soft, erotic sound. Tori looked up at him with lust-filled eyes and licked her lips in a slow, deliberate motion.
Without a word, she parted her lips and tilted her head back offering herself to him.
Jude's heart raced at the sight of her, so willingly surrendering to him, and he couldn't resist the urge to claim her once more. He moved closer, his length glistening as he approached her inviting mouth. The hunger in his gaze mirrored her desire, pooling in the air between them.
“God, Tori,” he growled, his voice low and rough. He took a step closer and positioned himself at her lips. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
With a firm yet gentle grip on her hair, he leaned forward, his cock pressing against her mouth. Without hesitating, she opened wider, welcoming him back inside. Feeling him slide into her mouth felt addictive, and she immediately went to work, sucking him in deep while her tongue expertly traced every ridge and vein.
“Fuck,” he breathed, the sensation exhilarating. “You drive me crazy.”
She made soft, sensual sounds, each one vibrating around him, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through his body. Jude began to rock his hips slowly, thrusting in rhythm with her perfect mouth, going deeper with each deliberate motion. The sight of her swallowing him, her eyes shining with intensity, only heightened his arousal.
“Just like that,” he groaned, losing himself in the rhythm of her mouth as she layered her movements with a tantalizing mix of speed and pressure.
Victoria let him take control, relishing in the way he filled her mouth, the heat and weight of him overwhelming her senses. She could feel him reaching the precipice, his every breath quickening, the muscles in his thighs tightening.
As the tension mounted, she could sense his rising need. Just when he thought he would lose it, she pulled back again, teasingly bringing her tongue over the sensitive tip before letting him slip from her lips entirely.
“Please, Jude,” she pleaded, her breath coming in bursts. “I want you to cum on my face.”
Jude's eyes darkened with desire, the raw urgency in her voice igniting something primal within him. “Come here,” he growled, his fingers curling into her hair, guiding her back down on him.
With a decisive thrust, Jude eased into her mouth once more, and Tori’s eyes widened in delight as he filled her instantly. She loved the way he took charge, how he lost himself in the pleasure. With each deep stroke, he seemed to pull her deeper into his world, a place where only he and she existed.
The heat of him was intoxicating, and her own desire soaring in response, each of his thrusts awakening a raw need inside her. She met him with soft, enthusiastic sounds, her moans sending vibrations through his hard cock, heightening the intoxicating pull between them. Jude looked down at her, his chest rising and falling with each heated breath, the way her face glistened with saliva driving him wild.
“Just like that, baby,” he growled, his control wavering. He moved faster now, a rhythm between domination and desire with every thrust. He watched as his cock disappeared past her luscious lips, the sight pure ecstasy. “You’re so fucking perfect like this.”
Victoria's desire erupted higher at his words. She pushed herself to take him even deeper, her throat working to accommodate him as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure of the moment. Each time he hit the back of her throat, she felt herself flutter with excitement, her body yearning for more.
Feeling a familiar tightness in his core, Jude knew he wouldn’t last long. Her compliance was like a drug, and the sight of her completely lost in the act—her eyes glazed over with pleasure—drove him wild. He groaned, his breaths rough and uneven, “I’m going to cum, Tori...”
“Please,” she urged with a sultry whisper around his pulsating length, her voice thick with desire. “I want it.”
That single command sent Jude spiralling over the edge. He gritted his teeth as he thrust one last time, burying himself deep within her warm mouth, his body quaking with release. “Tori!” he roared, surrendering to the pleasure that consumed him, his thick seed spilling as he held himself against the back of her throat.
Victoria welcomed the warmth, her eyes shimmering with delight as she felt the salty essence hit her tongue, a warm splash of gratification that sent shivers through her body. She let out a soft, hungry moan as she savoured every drop, the taste of him only intensifying her desire.
“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Jude panted, watching the way she licked her lips, ensuring she hadn’t wasted a single drop. The sight of her basking in his essence only fueled his need for her more, driving him wild.
Tori leaned back, her lips still glistening, an alluring invitation in her eyes. “I’m not,” she smiled shyly.
Taking her hand into his, Jude pulled her body against his once more, the warmth between them igniting again. "I think you are," he murmured, his voice a sultry growl that sent currents of anticipation racing through her.
He manoeuvred them both back onto the bed, their bodies colliding with a thud, as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“When are you heading back to the States for the holidays?” Jude asked, his fingers softly tracing the skin of her back.
“I’m not,” Tori revealed, her heart dropping as she thought about her family back home, or rather the current chasm between her and them.
“What?!” Jude asked as if he'd just been told she wasn't human.
“I’m staying in Madrid, I’m contemplating a last-minute New Year's trip with a few of the girls I dance with,” Tori explained, ignoring the dull ache in her chest as she offered him a soft reassuring smile.
“What about you?” she asked intent on shifting the attention away from her.
“I have my last football match of the year and then I’m heading back home to England to be with my family.” Jude revealed feeling bad about his plans to enjoy some time off with his family.
However, an intriguing notion, though slightly unconventional, suddenly blossomed in his mind.
“After Christmas, I'm heading to Dubai with a few of my teammates for an awards ceremony, but I plan on celebrating New Year's there too,” Jude explained.
“If you’d like, I’d be happy for you to join me.” he continued, feeling rather nervous as he proposed the idea to her.
Victoria's heart raced at his offer, the thought of joining him igniting a spark of excitement within her. “Are you being serious?” she asked cautiously.
“Why wouldn't I be serious?” Jude asked with a pout.
“I know we are just getting to know one another and I’m already in your bed, but why?” Tori asked, her brow furrowing slightly. She wanted to be sure about his intentions but couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that coursed through her at the prospect of spending more time with him.
“Because,” he began, searching her gaze for the right words, “I want to continue to get to know you, whether it be in Dubai or Madrid.”
Tori had already let it slip that she was thinking about travelling for the new year, but the thought of going to Dubai with Jude was incredibly enticing. The atmosphere of a new city, especially one known for its opulence and vibrant nightlife, combined with the thrill of exploring more of their connection sent a rush of adrenaline through her.
“I’m intrigued,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But what's the catch? This feels… too good to be true.”
Jude smiled, a mixture of confidence and assurity in his demeanour. “No catch. If at any point you want to leave you can, I don't expect anything from you, but I would like for you to join me.”
Tori hadn’t known Jude for any stretch of time, but from their first encounter, she’d found herself drawn to him. “If I say yes, you have to promise me I won't end up regretting it,” she said, her eyes searching his for sincerity.
Jude leaned closer, brushing his lips softly against hers. “I promise to make it a trip you won’t forget,”
#jude bellingham smut#fanfic#jude bellingham#chick lit#real madrid#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fanfic#jobe bellingham#smut#camavinga smut#mbappe smut#real madrid cf#bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagines#jude bellingham one shot
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Rockstar | Na Jaemin
Summary: It's not easy being the secret girlfriend of playboy idol Jaemin. But it's sure as hell worth it.
Genre: Suggestive, Idol!Jaemin, Angst
Word count: >1k
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jaemin asked, as you stepped out of his dark van a few streets away from the house.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pressed your lips quickly to his. “Yes. I’ll get to meet all your friends…”
”But as a waitress? Won’t that be weird?” he said.
“Would you prefer to tell everyone that NCT Dream’s Jaemin has a secret girlfriend?” you said.
Jaemin stole another kiss, lingering near you, breathing you in deeply. “Who cares about the media? Let’s tell everyone. Let’s tell them right now.”
You laughed and pushed him off. “This is best way, okay? Now go.”
Despite all your teasing, you quivered inside. It would not be easy seeing Jaemin wander around the room, dazzling everyone, and not be able to even hold his hand.
As soon as you entered the huge ballroom, your wrist straining under a plate of canapes, you tried to keep track of where Jaemin was - but you soon got distracted.
“Didn’t you hear? He’s got some bimbo hidden away in Seoul,” a man, possibly an idol, whispered.
Jeno was standing next to him. “That’s just gossip. Jaemin’s nothing like that.”
You froze at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. You hadn’t even realised they were talking about you.
“I heard she’s a normal person. Wow, there must be a line of groupies just begging to sleep with him.” the man continued.
Another man chimed in, winking, and said “I wonder what special skills got her the job.”
They all laughed.
Chenle rolled his eyes. “You guys should work for a newspaper.”
They turned to look at you, and you realised you were standing next to them, frozen.
“C- canapes?” you said, your voice hoarse. They turned away without saying anything.
You rushed away, bumping into someone as you went, desperate to get as far away from that man as possible. But it seemed like the same conversation was happening across the room. You spotted Jaemin, and moved quickly towards him.
“You have to tell us who she is!” an company executive was saying, clapping Jaemin on the back. Jaemin wore a slight smile, but you could tell from his dark cheeks that he was embarassed.
“I’m not going to tell you a thing,” Jaemin answered.
“So there is a girl!” the man said. “Look, Jaemin” he said, dangling a set of keys in his hand. “You can use my Ferrari anytime. Now what do you have to say in return?”
Jaemin shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. I… love her.”
The tray of canapes fell from your hands and bounced over the floor.
”Oh, for god’s sake!” the man said, looking at you.
You crouched down to pick them up. Jaemin bent down, too, to the amazement of the other people in the group.
Jaemin sighed. “I’m so sorry about my friends, I’ll kick them all out, I’ll get new friends!”
You placed a finger on his lips, then quickly drew it away.
“You love me?” you said quietly. “That's what you said, isn't it?”
Jaemin smiled. “Of course. I didn’t mean to pressure you, and you don’t have to say it back-”
“I love you too,” you said, and Jaemin’s mouth fell open.
You barely made it into Jaemin’s apartment before his lips were on yours, his hands racing over your back as if he couldn’t believe you were real.
“We’re never talking to those people again,” Jaemin moaned.
You smiled. “What? Don’t you like being the rockstar playboy?”
He rolled his eyes.
You couldn’t fight a laugh. “Maybe I should go, so you can move on to the next girl in your long line of groupies.”
Jaemin groaned, “Y/n-”
“Just shut up and kiss me, Mr. Bachelor,” you said, grinning.
—
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
#jaemin#na jaemin#nct dream#jaemin smut#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct 00 line smut#nct hard hours#jaemin fluff#jaemin angst#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct x reader#lee jeno#na jaemin smut#na jaemin fluff#na jaemin angst#nct reactions
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SEVEN [POGUELANDIA] - FEVER DREAM
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[3.7k] It's been a week since you and your friends were dropped into the middle of nowhere. But the self-proclaimed 'Poguelandia' has served as a break for you all from the drama and chaos back home, but it may also present chances for growth and changes, good and bad...
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, kie x reader drama (again), omission, mentions of self-doubt, allusions to suicidal thoughts (if you squint), mentions of injuries
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ I think I finally found my motivation again so here's chapter 1/3 of Poguelandie before we get into season 3 of SVN, also, taglist ppl, ik it's been acting funky for a minute so I'll see if it works better in the comments, also new taglist people, please use the taglist form in my pinned post to be added, it makes it a lot easier to keep track of new people who want to be added so i don't have to go through my replies and mentions and blah blah blah
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
THE SALTY OCEAN BREEZE WHIPPED THROUGH YOUR HAIR AS YOU SURVEYED THE VAST EXPANSE OF THE DESERTED ISLAND, Poguelandia as you’d all claimed it.
It’d been a week since you and your friends washed up on the shore of the unclaimed piece of land — carving your symbol into a tree and crafting a flag that swayed in the wind. Sure, a chicken in a coconut bra, smoking a J in Crocs wasn’t the most intimidating “stay off of our land” flag but it was something.
You were planted in the sand, next to your dwindling bonfire, watching your friends surf in the water using the poorly constructed boards the guys had made — unreliable pieces of driftwood and lots of twine apparently made an oddly useful flotation device.
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to join in on the festivities. Your personal island nurse, Cleo, basically forbade you from entering the water, claiming the salt water would only soften the scar tissue she’d burned into your leg with a heated knife she’d held over a raging bonfire. The smell of burning flesh and the pain of the scorching metal against your thigh only served as a distant nightmare, making you cringe at the memory.
“Hey,” A voice appeared next to you, looking up to find Kiara’s bikini clad frame looking down at you, brown curls dripping with sea water. “How’re you doing?” Over the last week, you two had found some common ground. You didn’t expect things to be normal right away, or possibly ever again. But you were glad you could still talk to her. “Need some company?”
You shrugged, a longing smile on your face as you glanced at the rest of your peers fooling around in the water before turning back to her. “I’m doin’ okay, but feel free to join me. …Or did my nurse send you over here to make sure I don’t sneak into the water?” You asked, playfully squinting your eyes as Kie took a seat next to you, digging her feet into the sand.
The girl laughed lightly, head dipping down as the lowering sun illuminated the highlights in her hair while casting an orange hue over the deserted island. “No Nurse Cleo supervision here. Promise.” But the humor in her words didn’t seem genuine, almost like she had something to say. As if something else was on the tip of her tongue. “...How do you feel about her, by the way?” Kiara asked quietly, avoiding your eyes as she played with the grains of sand — letting the materials slip through her fingers.
“Who? Cleo?” You asked, a lopsided smile on your face.
“Yeah, like…do you trust her?” Kie asked, finally meeting your eyes. “Do you think she even really trusts us? I mean, she said it herself — we’re just her better option.”
You simply shrugged, making a face of uncertainty. “I don’t know…I don’t think she meant it like that.” You defended the girl. “I wouldn’t say I fully trust her just yet, but I do think she’s genuinely on our side.” You told your friend, watching as she drew her lips into a thin line, nodding almost as if she expected your answer but still wasn’t satisfied with it.
“...And you don’t find it weird that she just decided to up and run off with six strangers?” Kiara prodded, tone growing increasingly more confused, bordering annoyance. “And then saying she wants a cut of the gold? Like, come on...”
You couldn’t help but chuckle out of mild disbelief. “You don’t find half of the things we’ve done weird? Running from the cops even though we’re innocent? And, like, one-hundred other things that don’t make sense?” You countered, shaking your head. “And her wanting a cut of the gold isn’t crazy, in my opinion.” You shrugged, leaning back on your arms, fiddling with a leaf between your fingers. “I mean, she saved half of our lives. And she’s the main reason we made it off that ship. Without her help, who knows what could’ve happened…”
“I think you’re giving her too much credit.” Kie scoffed, standing from her spot and brushing herself off. You couldn’t help but make a face of offense at words, hearing the clear disagreement and disdain in her tone.
“...I’d probably be dead without her, Kie.” You spoke slowly, eyeing the girl as she paced smally on her feet, rolling her eyes as you continued speaking. “If anything, she deserves more credit than we’ve given her.”
“Look, all I’m saying is that we can’t trust everyone just because they help us. And I think being on this island is making everyone forget the fact that she could still be a threat to us-”
“But she isn’t. She’s stuck here, too-”
“She chose to be.”
“Exactly.” You quipped, tone short. “She chose to come with us and be stranded here. We all did.” You put it simply. “Look, I know we should be weary of who we let around us, but you’re not even giving her a chance.”
At your words, Kiara fell silent, running a tense hand through her mess of wet curls. “None of you get it.” She sighed under her breath, shaking her head side to side. “When she screws us over, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Was the last thing she offered in response to you before walking off into the trees, disappearing.
You simply shook your head — what could Cleo have done for Kie of all people to have such a disdain for her? Distrust was one thing and that was reasonable. But it was clear that the island girl put a sour taste in Kiara’s mouth. Just days ago, Kiara brought up how much you’d been hanging out with the girl in question, making a joke about being replaced. But maybe there wasn’t as much humor there as you’d initially thought…
“Hey, where’d you go?” Kiara asked, looking up at you from where she was digging holes near the shore, looking for turtle hatches.
“Banana Leaf hunting. Cleo says they're good for healing and she was gonna try to make a bandage for my leg.” You replied, shielding your eyes from the sun as you limped closer to her.
“Well, when you find one, make sure it’s big enough for both of you.”
“...What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing. I just figured it’d be easier if it was bigger considering you and her are like attached at the hip now.” She muttered, side-eyeing you with a slight smile that let you know her words were lighthearted.
“Oh, whatever. Don’t be like that. I just don’t want her to feel like an outcast.” You scoffed with a playful smile.
“Yeah, yeah. Just know you can’t replace me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
…Did Kiara feel that Cleo was a threat to the group…or to her? Caution or jealousy? And if it was the latter, was it platonic or something deeper? You guessed that would always be the question now…
“CAN YOU FEEL IT NOW?” JJ asked for the fifth time as his index and middle finger pressed into the skin below your knee — wide, blue eyes boring into your own. The boy was still slightly damp from surfing as the two of you sat under the shade of a palm tree — your other five friends some feet away, laughing around a bonfire as the sun finally set.
“Yes, I can feel it, JJ.” You reassured the boy once more, rolling your eyes in playful annoyance. “I’m not going to lose my leg, you know.”
“Cleo said to make sure that your leg isn’t cold or discolored and to make sure you still had feeling. I’m just following the doctor’s orders.” He told you, continuing to press his fingers up the length of your leg. “Especially when the doctor has a machete and an attitude problem…” He muttered.
At this, you sighed, throwing your head back. “Ughhh. You too?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as JJ made a face of confusion —sitting up straighter.
“What do you mean “me too”?”
“Why is everyone giving her such a hard time?” You asked, tilting your head.
“Who? Cleo?” JJ inquired, sitting down across from you and dusting the sand off of his hands.
“Yes.” You answered. “I mean, she saved our asses when she didn’t have to. And she hasn’t given us any reason to not at least try to trust her. We’ve been stranded for a week. If she had some trick up her sleeve, I’m sure she would’ve used it by now. We don’t really know her and she doesn’t really know us. She’s not as rude as she may come off once you get to know her. But you guys won’t talk to her.” You defended.
“...Well, I was just joking, Princess. Cleo’s good in my book, she even taught me some knife tricks.” JJ chuckled, surprised at how you jumped to the girl’s defense. “And I’m not sure what you mean.” He continued, face contorting in confusion. “John B and Sarah seem pretty cool with her and I’m pretty sure Pope has a thing for her, even if he doesn’t know it. And Kie… hasn’t said much to her, I don’t think.” He pondered, seeming to connect the dots. “Did Kie say somethin’? Is that it?”
“I don’t know…” You started, twiddling with your fingers. “She’s suspicious of her, I guess. She thinks Cleo’s only with us because we’re her best bet and because she’s still holding out on the hope that we’ll get the gold and she basically thinks we’re all being blind to the possibility of Cleo being a threat. And she came at me so… aggressive about it. It was weird…”
“...Are you sure Kie doesn’t have another issue with you?” JJ asked, squinting his eyes from the emerging moonlight as he looked at you. “I know girl drama is usually lowkey.”
You met his eyes as his words registered in your mind. It was at this moment that you realized JJ still had no idea of the real reason for the crumbling of your life-long friendship with Kiara. Or rather the reason for it. And you were questioning whether to speak now or forever hold your peace…
“I noticed you guys kind of seemed off for a while. But I figured it was just something small.”
“Uh, yeah…” You trailed off, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes. “Something like that.” You shrugged, jutting your bottom lip out.
“I’m sure you guys will work it out.” He shrugged mindlessly, rubbing a hand up and down your calf. “You always do.”
“...I don’t know, I think it’s a bit different this time…” You said solemnly. It was the first real wave of emotions that you’d felt about the situation. Kiara was in love with you. And your friendship with her would never be the same. It was a strange, unwelcomed thought. Kiara was like a sister to you. To experience the fall of your relationship with her had a particularly rough sting to it.
“What makes you say that?” JJ asked, pinching his eyebrows together. You didn’t respond immediately, eyes flicking up to his then back down to where they were focused on his fingers rubbing circles into your leg. “Hey,” JJ called to gain your attention, your eyes finally locking with his own. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”
You shook your head with vigor, pinching your lips together before speaking. “No, no, I can’t. Not this time.”
“Baby-”
“JJ, I can’t.” You said exhaustedly. You wanted to tell him so bad, to get the weight and confusion off of your shoulders. But it wasn’t your place. “It’s Kie’s business. It’s not my place-”
“It is.” He tried, clearly growing frustrated. “Whatever happened is clearly affecting you both. That makes it your place and I’m sure Kie will get over you telling me-”
“It’s not that simple.” You snapped, expression softening when you realized how aggressively low your tone had dropped. Sighing, you continued. “I’m sorry, okay? But it really isn’t that easy, J. It’s really…weird and complicated and-” You stopped your ranting when JJ leaned forward, moving the hand that was on your leg to cradle your cheek.
“It’s okay.” He assured you, offering a light smile before pecking you softly on the lips --- the taste of sea salt lingering faintly. “I don’t want to make things worse between you two, okay? I get it.” He told you, but you could see that he was still, if not more, curious about it now. You realized you may have put yourself into a tighter space than you were sitting in before. Which would only make it harder to get out of.
NIGHT HAD COMPLETELY FALLEN BY NOW. It was so weird how the days seemed to go by much faster. It was like there was never enough time in the day now to do anything. Where it seemed like the sun never went down when you were being shot at, chased, and kidnapped — it seemed like there was nothing but the moon and stars now.
The boys were starting another fire, since yours had gone out, while you and the other girls lounged around — watching them twirl sticks and blow into the smoke. Eventually, John B sighed, side-eyeing the four of you. “Since none of you want to help, can you at least go and find more firewood? Or something to eat? These fish are only gonna last us tonight.”
“The sun’s gone down.” Sarah quipped, a quizzical brow raised. “Can’t exactly fish in the dark.”
“No, but you can hunt.” JJ retorted, shooting the girl a grimace from his place in front of the growing fire.
“Do we look like hunters to you?” Cleo shot back, twirling her knife around her fingers. “Plus, I thought we agreed the woods were off limits. Tigers, bears, and all that?”
“And there’s no reason to go right now.” You added, adjusting your legs where you were sitting in the sand to be more comfortable. “We have tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…”
“Normally, I’d agree.” Pope sighed, looking up at the sky where the clouds that did still remain, there but faint, loomed. “But I’m eighty-percent sure there’s a storm coming. All the birds and whatever else will eat all the plants and fruits and they’ll be less fish because of the falling tide. And who knows how long it’s going to last…”
“...Do you guys think we should start looking for ways to call for help?” Kie offered meekly. "It's been a week and I don't think anyone's looking for us..."
“And how would we do that?” JJ asked.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, sitting up straighter. “This can’t be all there is to this island. There has to be something — a house, an abandoned shack — anything. But…we can’t stay here forever.”
“It’s only been a week, Kie.” JJ dismissed, tending to the fire. He didn’t seem to be fond of the topic of conversation, almost avoidant of it. “I’m sure someone will come soon enough for you.”
“...Why are you acting like that?” She asked, an expression of offense on her face.
“Like what?” He sighed, finally looking at the girl.
“Like you don’t want to leave.”
...A silence fell over the group, looks exchanged between one another as JJ stared tensely at the fire, jaw clenched. It was an unspoken topic among you all — whether you were going to be rescued at some point. Whether you wanted to be. Some people had been taking more kindly to the newfound freedom of island life — you, JJ, Cleo…
The others…it seemed like they couldn’t wait until someone came to swoop you all up. It was reasonable, you understood. But going to Kildare would be like getting thrown back to hell after getting a backstage pass to heaven.
“Why don’t we go see if the trees have started producin’ again? Hm?” Cleo broke the ice, standing up and looking at you, Kiara, and Sarah. “Pope’s right. If a storm’s comin’, best to stock up. A little wander in the dark neva hurt nobody. Come on.” She urged, outstretching a hand to you to help you up that you went to take.
“Hey, no,” JJ protested, eyes fleeting between you and Cleo. “Your leg-”
“I’m fine, J.” You dismissed, using Cleo’s assistance to stand up, mindful to keep your leg off the ground. “I can’t just sit around until someone shows up to save us.”
“I know, it’s just-” He struggled to find words. “Can’t you wait until you’ve healed?” He asked, eyes pleading.
“JJ,” You started, leaning on Cleo for support to keep yourself up. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen out here. We don’t have any first aid or medical supplies. The best thing I can do is let my body try and heal itself. And the best way to do that is to stop laying around like a starfish.” You explained the words Cleo had given you when she patched you up on the first day. “And I’ll have Cleo with me.” You smiled at the girl.
JJ’s blue eyes went between you and the dark-skinned girl, sighing in defeat. “Alright, fine. But take this with you.” He demanded, tossing his Swiss Army knife in your direction, you managing to catch it with one hand.
“We’ll be back.” You smiled, turning to walk away with your girls. “Fire up the grill for us, boys!” You shouted over your shoulder.
“THAT BOY REALLY CARES ABOUT YOU, Y’KNOW?” Cleo spoke, holding a branch out of your way to duck under, guiding you with a hand on your back. The four of you had split in half — Kie and Sarah taking one side of the forest while you and Cleo foraged the other.
“Yeah, I know.” You acknowledged, getting further into the trees. “I just wish everyone would stop treating me like I’m…broken, or something.”
“Well, your leg is pretty banged up, girl-”
“No, I know.” You cut her off. “But…it’s not just that.” You sighed, stopping in front of a bush to pluck off the berries, handing them to Cleo for her to put into the basket she made of twine and sticks. “...Some stuff happened back at home and I think they’ve been trying to be subtle about it, but I can see the way everyone keeps me in the corner of their eyes. I can feel it. It’s like they’re tip toeing on eggshells but they’re still cracking underneath their shoes. And they have their reasons to be worried, I know that and I appreciate it. But I feel like they’re always helping me or saving me. I don’t wanna be the weak link.” You explained, brows furrowed as you threw the last of the berries into the basket, limping further into the mess of trees with Cleo following closely behind. “I hate feeling like I can’t help myself. And my leg isn’t exactly helping the problem…”
“Weakness is deception.” Cleo said, matter of factly. “I learned that from a close friend.” She told you, looking at you briefly. “It’s usually hidin’ a strength you haven’t discovered yet.” She said simply, stopping in front of the fruit tree as she handed the basket to you and began to climb.
“Well, how am I supposed to find this ‘strength’?” You asked, eyeing the girl as she climbed the bark effortlessly.
“You learn to overcome the weakness.” She said, snatching one of ripe fruits off the vine. “Everybody is weak. It’s just that some are stronger than others. When you’re stronger than everyone around you, of course you’re not going to look weak — brighter lights cast deeper shadows. But the truth is, everyone is a weak link in some way. Strength isn’t about never fallin’, it’s about gettin’ back up every time you do.”
“But what if I don’t know how to do that?” You asked, brows furrowed as you got lost in your thoughts, watching as Cleo dropped the fruit into the basket from the top of the tree. “What if all I know how to do when I fall…is keep falling?”
“...Why would you do that?” She asked, voice softer than you'd ever heard it.
“...Because it’s easier than getting back up just to fall again.”
“But you can’t fall forever.” Cleo asserted. “You’ll hit rock bottom eventually. And when you hit rock bottom, there’s nothin'. And you can’t live with nothin', so you have to make your way back to the top eventually. You can never let yourself fall that far.” She spoke, climbing down from the tree. “It’s easier to swim to the surface from five–feet down than it is from fifty.” You pondered on her words, finding a good amount of wisdom in them. The girl stopped in front of you, taking the basket off of your hands. “And you’re lucky.” She added after a moment's pause. “You have a good group of people to help you up. Don’t see their help as weakness. Them people out there are your family. I don’t have that.”
“They could be that for you.” You told Cleo as the two of you began walking back the way you came, using the moonlight for guidance. "We could be that for you."
“Nah.” She shook her head, eyes looking at her feet. “They don’t trust me.”
“Not yet.” You emphasized. “We don’t trust people easily. You can probably imagine why…” You trailed off, Cleo nodding in response. “But they’re actually taking to you pretty well. Most of them, anyway.” You mentally rolled your eyes, remembering you and Kiara’s previous conversation. “Like Pope?” You continued, moving branches and leaves out of the way. “He’s usually the first to be skeptical. But he seems open to you.”
“Hm...” She hummed under her breath — her lack of response prompting you to look at the girl, the moonlight illuminating the faint redness of her cheeks. You couldn’t help but gasp.
“Oh my God, do you like Pope?” You nearly shouted to which Cleo vehemently shushed you, looking around herself.
“Shut up, loud mouth!” She whisper-shouted lightheartedly. “...And no, I don’t. Boys are stupid. And useless.” She said, although you didn’t believe her.
“Uh-huh…” You said, squinting your eyes with a sly smile. “...Well, he’s on the market, just FYI.”
“Ughhh.” Cleo groaned, throwing her head back and walking far ahead. “Shut up!”
“I’m just saying!” You shouted behind her, attempting to catch up.
“That’s ya problem!” She called over her shoulder. “Less talkin’, more walkin’, slowpoke!”
“Hey! I can’t help it!” You argued, still trying your best to catch back up to the girl. “JJ will kill you if you abandon me out here!” You joked to which you were met with a playful scoff that reverberated through the trees.
“I’ll put ya lanky, blonde boyfriend on his behind before he can shout for help!” She quipped, a smile thrown over her shoulder. “Come on!”
next chapter >
feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.
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✨Happy New Year ✨ to all of you, but most especially my darling friend @isabellehemlock. I’m so glad we got to meet each other in this fandom, and so very happy to share a wonderful, supportive space with you online. May 2025 bring you all the joy, peace and happiness. ❤️
You asked for romantic vibes of any kind — new, established, domestic, fluffy. And my brain came up with this moment of Joe and Nicky’s relationship. A moment when their love is established, but still feels new and wondrous. A moment of new beginnings.
By the time they had decided to go looking for the women showing up in their dreams, it had been decades. In their defense, they had been somewhat preoccupied. They had traveled, first the Levante and then the Byzantine Empire, further west to Tunis and then back along the Northern coastal cities, only avoiding Genoa. For a few beautiful years they settled down in Malta. And yet the true journey — just as winding, and filled with as many challenges and surprising turns — has been the one towards finding each other. It’s hard to say what came first in their relationship — trust, affection, lust. They started out killing each other, and then became traveling companions before they had outgrown that habit. The last time Yusuf killed him, was after he had kissed him. And yet it would be years after trusting Nicolò to have his back in a battle before he allowed him to strip Yusuf bare, and allowed himself to come undone beneath him. Now that they’ve found the women, there is a new journey waiting, and Nicolò isn’t sure where it will lead yet. The first night they make camp together, he doesn’t sleep. He’s not worried about his own safety — there’s little anyone can do to him that Nicolò would fear — but he’s not going to leave Yusuf defenseless. He’s not going to let anyone come between them or separate them. Yusuf, ever perceptive, smiles at him knowingly before he presses a soft kiss against Nicolò’s lips, right there in front of their new acquaintances, and then settles himself against Nicolò’s chest, allowing Nicolò to wrap his arms around him and hold him close. The warm weight of him is a comfort; the steady heartbeat echoing between them grounding. He pulls a blanket up around them, and when he lifts his gaze, he sees that he’s being watched from across the campfire. Dark eyes study him for a long moment, then the Eastern woman starts to smile, and she closes her eyes and curls up against her companion. “I trust you will be keeping watch,” she says, just loud enough for Nicolò to hear the underlying amusement in her voice. “If only for his sake.” Nicolò doesn’t answer, but as the night proceeds, he contemplates the notion of trust, and how he has earned hers so quickly. It will not take long for Quynh and Andromache to take root in his heart, and he will do anything for them for their own sake. But it won’t be for many decades, to Andromache’s endless exasperation and Quynh’s quiet amusement, that he’ll be willing to trust them with the safety of his heart — or rather the man who firmly holds it in his possession.
Find this on AO3
#the old guard#tog fanart#tog ficlet#immortal husbands#kaysanova#yusuf al kaysani#nicolo di genova#quynh the old guard#immortal wives#immortal family#andromache x quynh#yusuf x nicolo#my art#fandom exchange#happy new year
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𝟕 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄
bf!jake x fem!reader
in which The night feels cozy. With your boyfriend's hands wrapped around you as you watch your favorite movie, you think there isn't a better way to spend your night. Until your boyfriend gets a different idea, deciding to make the last seven minutes of the year worth it.
wc 0.8k
warnings oral (f. receiving), fingering
↪ izzy adds... munch jake confirmed once again
event m.list
Jake pats his lap, his boba eyes on you, carefully watching your every move. You smile, settling yourself between his legs on the couch, his arms wrapping around you immediately to keep you close. You pull a blanket over the two of you, snuggling into his warm embrace as you look up to see him. “I love you,” you mumble. Your boyfriend presses a kiss to your lips with a smile. “I love you too, my pretty girl.” You giggle at the nickname, resting your hands on his.
The cuddles you share feel like a dream. Your boyfriend feels like a dream. Ever since the two of you started dating he has been nothing but great to you, and you never regretted being with him for a split second. He always knew what you needed, how to take care of you, what to say and when it was best to stay silent. Sometimes, it almost felt like he studied you.
And as you watch your favorite movie, cuddled up with him on your couch, in the matching set of pajamas he got you for Christmas, you find yourself falling in love with him all the more. If that was even possible.
Your eyes fall on the clock on your wall, ten minutes until midnight. “I’ll go make us something to drink, yeah? What do you want?” You ask, moving just slightly enough so you can see his face. “Whatever you want to make for yourself,” he answers, rubbing small circles on your stomach with his thumb. You shake your head at him. “You’ll have to let me go for that, though,” you remind him, but he only mumbles some incoherent complaints before he raises his hands so you can get up.
Jake stays sitting, forgetting all about the movie as he watches you instead, his eyes following your body as you move around in the kitchen, preparing two cups of tea. He can’t help but smile whenever he sees you. He just wants to bite your cheek.
His eyes shift to the clock when you get back. 23:53. 7 minutes until midnight. He can make you cum in 7 minutes.
“Baby,” he speaks up softly, and you immediately wonder what he needs with your eyes. “Come here,” he pats his lap again, but this time it feels more suggestive. You bat your eyes at him confusedly, but do as he says, settling yourself on his lap. “Can I eat you out, please?”
You blink a few times to assure yourself you’ve heard him right before your lips curl up into a smile. “You want to, baby?” He nods immediately. “So bad.”
So you end up lying on the couch while your boyfriend positions himself between your thighs, slowly licking your clit. It always feels like he is eating you out for the first time and you get drunk on the feeling. His nose pressed against your clit, while he tongue-fucks your needy pussy, or his fingers hitting your g-spot while he sucks on your sensitive bud, it always feels incredible.
“Don’t hesitate getting louder with me, baby,” he mumbles, pulling his fingers out of your hole, sucking on them before he dives in again, eating you out as if he starved himself days before. It’s like a spell. The moment those words leave his lips, and his mouth goes back to doing something other than speaking, your moans fill the room. His name leaves your lips over and over again, your fingers finding their way to his hair and tugging on his dark locks “Hm?” He hums, quickly looking up to see you. “I’m gonna– gonna–” — “I know, baby,” he smiles, sucking on your clit again. “Just a minute and you can.”
The minute until midnight feels like hell. Jake is going awfully slow to make sure you won’t finish before the clock hits twelve. “Please, Jake,” you beg him, and you swear you can feel him smirk against your pussy when you do so.
After what feels like an eternity, you hear the fireworks outside going off, announcing the start of a new year. Your boyfriend takes the sign and before you know it, you are finishing on his tongue. “Happy new year, baby,” Jake mumbles, placing a kiss on your clit as he licks your slick one last time. Your breath feels happy as you repeat his words, wishing him a happy new year. He moves up to face you, pressing his lips on yours, and you don’t even care you can taste yourself in the kiss. “I love you,” you mumble, gasping when he pushes his fingers inside you again. “I love you too.”
✧˖°. izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @nxzz-skz @bamgeutsz @hmusunoo ✧˖°. want to get notified? join taglist here!
#enhypen#✧˖°. jakedustry ✧˖°.#enha#jakedustry#✧˖°. enha industry ✧˖°.#enhypen jake#jake sim#sim jake#jake#enhypen jake smut#smut#jake sim smut#sim jake smut#jake sim x reader#sim jake x reader#enhypen jake x reader#enhypen jake x you#✧˖°. izzy's event ✧˖°.
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once upon a dream
— yukimiya’s been dreaming about a mysterious girl for a week and a half now. and, you haven’t been able to sleep. what happens when you finally talk? love at first sight.
stp i wrote this insane in like 7 hours icb this is 3.4k words!!! wtf i dont even like yukki that much 😭 this is j word vomit bro AHHAA
you were familiar with the mortal god known as kenyu yukimiya. he was everything your friends wanted in a boyfriend. he was kind, charismatic, gentlemanly, not to mention extremely handsome.
his status as a teenage model and athlete didn’t help his popularity either. girls were always asking him to hang out (hint: ‘hang out’ means ‘date’), to which he always agreed, even offering to pay for them.
that’s just how he was.
and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen under his siren spell too. not when his charming smile kept luring you closer to your death.
but, you could never pull him! not in a million years. with the status quo as it is, you two are in two different worlds.
at least, that’s what you think.
to yukimiya, you were familiar, perhaps even special. he saw you once in passing while you were leaving your classroom, and he suddenly had a sense of deja vu; it was as if he’s already lived this before. it could always just be nothing. it could just be stress since nationals is coming up soon.
but even so, you still catch his eye. he’s always wanted to talk to you, but he’s had the secret anxiety that you wouldn’t be too interested in talking to him. so, he enjoys the short times he see you pass him in the hallway, or coincidentally pick the lunch table beside his in the cafeteria.
but, he still feels as if there’s more to it than just a friend crush. the way you carry yourself, and the tone of your voice— it all makes him feel a familiar way.
his dreams as of late have revolved around a faceless girl. he can never recall her face after he wakes, but he always awakens with a sense that a part of him is missing.
it’s late in the day, 20 minutes before 6 PM. and, training has just finished. yukimiya catches his breath as he takes off his goggles, switching them out for his everyday glasses.
“…see you, guys!” he bids to the rest of his team, taking his leave with his school bag and training gear in hand.
the walk home is silent. before black spots begin to appear in his vision. ‘damn it…’ he thinks, ‘right now of all times..?’. he internally groans before hurrying his pace, quickly making it home.
he takes off his shoes and calls, “mom! i’m home!”.
his mother hums in acknowledgment and responds, “kenyu, we’re having katsu curry for dinner!” ah, that sounds delicious…
“alright..! i’m gonna go lie down for a bit though. my vision is a bit blurry again…” he comes into the kitchen, greeted with the salivating smell of his mother’s homemade curry.
“dear, if that’s the case, go rest for a while. i’ll save you a portion, alright?” his mother smiles. yukimiya frowns a bit but he nonetheless, obeys. “alright, mom. i’ll just take a nap.”
he sighs as he climbs the stairs up to his bedroom, and flops onto his bed. today was exhausting, he almost immediately falls asleep.
he looks around— he’s back at school. the sun outside looks as if it’s about to set, so classes must be over. but, he’s still in a classroom.
he leans on a desk, while the familiar faceless girl sits on one of the chairs. “…hm… so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?” she hums. he’s not quite sure what got him in this moment, but he nods. “that’s right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.”
something about her was ethereal, have it be the delicate way she presents herself, or the way her hair gracefully frames her blurred face. whatever it was, the only thing that could come to mind when he saw her painted orange and pink by the setting sun was, ‘divine’.
“hah, maybe you’d benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.” she snickers.
“ahah, i wouldn’t hate that too much… why not?” he shrugs, laughing as well. there’s a scary tension in his shoulders, he feels pretty stiff. he feels pretty nervous— it feels like dread, but at the same time as if he has swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies, fluttering their way into his heart.
“really? maybe i’ll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentines’ day then!” she innocuously proclaims this, unknown to the fact that yukimiya’s heart gets caught in his throat.
“i..is that so? i guess that just means i’ll have to return the favor on white day.” he hums, retrieving his school bag and training gear which had been thrown carelessly on a random desk.
his body was moving, but not to his mind’s command. why was he leaving?
he turned his back to face the mysterious girl again. a lithe hand moves to cover her mouth as she yawns, small pearlescent tears forming atop her lower eyelid.
her speech gets slurred. and his dream fades to black.
when yukimiya awakens, it’s 1:14 AM. talk about an after-school nap…
he scowls. his dream ended so suddenly, he has the desire for closure to give rest to the many ‘what if’ scenarios for what she could have said. ‘what was she going to say? was she asking why i was leaving?’ he wonders.
putting his disappointment aside, yukimiya decides to go and shower first. he leaves his room and goes into the bathroom beside the stairs to shower. all before changing into some clean clothes.
putting on a clean t-shirt, yukimiya sighs. clean clothes felt good. his stomach gurgles, and he groans at the sound. he did sleep for 7 hours. he shouldn’t be too shocked that he’s starved.
making his way down the stairway, he goes into the kitchen and finds a plate of katsu curry and rice being covered by one of his mother’s large baking bowls. there’s condensation of steam dripping from the metallic bowl from when the dish had been warm. the katsu by now has lost its’ crunch after absorbing the curry, and the rice isn’t quite as sticky anymore.
it’s not ideal, but yukimiya doesn’t have it in himself to complain. he can’t do anything about it anyways.
he throws the plate into the microwave to heat for two minutes. and as the dish spins on the microwave’s glass plate, his mind wanders back to his dream. now, he could only vaguely recall details, but he knew that it felt real. the sensation of his school bag’s rough fabric, and the sound of her melodic voice pouring into his ears— it all felt real.
the microwave beeps, and his train of thought is quickly stopped as he takes his food out of the microwave, and sits lonely at the dining table.
‘geez, this is depressing…’ he internally sighs. he might as well stay up until he has to get ready for school.
in another home however, you’ve only fallen asleep. you’d been closing your eyes, as well as tossing and turning in your bed for about 3 hours now, unable to fall asleep. you’ve tried everything— sleep ASMRs, melatonin candies… but, none of them have been able to help you sleep earlier.
it’s been like this for a week and a half now. you’ve noticed the dark circles under your eyes are much more pronounced now, making you resemble an undead creature, rather than a high school student.
your friends have been teasing you with a corny, deluded saying— “if you can’t sleep, then it’s probably because there’s someone dreaming about you.”, they say. what nonsense! it was more likely that it’s the stress of your projects, than someone dreaming about you.
nonetheless, you simply relish in the fact that you’re now asleep. not dreaming about anything in particular, just having a sort of good night’s sleep.
you groan when your alarm on your phone goes off. it sounds like an emergency alert system alarm. your father suggested after the first two times you were late last week due to oversleeping. your hand mindlessly moves, looking to turn off the irritating noise.
when it’s finally off, you lie in your bed for an extra minute or two. your body feels so stiff, everything hurts…
your heavy eyes open once again, and you turn your head far enough to see your phone and check the time. 6:18, did you oversleep for 20 minutes? you should get ready soon…
you reluctantly get out from your comfortable bed and stretch, cracking all the stiff bones in your body. you go about your daily routine and go on your way to school. you walk hurriedly, in hopes of taking a quick cat nap before classes start.
that hope is sadly not reached, as you only arrive just about a minute or two before the bell rings.
you manage to soldier through the day, staying up and diligently taking notes, as well as taking a very well-deserved nap during lunch. it really is a feat— for you, at least.
the day goes by horrifyingly slow, and having to stay late for club these days is a nightmare. as much as you want to say you’ve been putting all your effort into club activities, you really have been idling through until the time runs out.
sitting in one of the desks, you’re chatting with one of your club mates as your club president approaches you, “ah, sorry to bother you, but there’s a box on my desk in classroom 3-6, could you get it for me please..? i’m a bit busy to do it myself..” she explains.
“hm..? ah, sure. don’t worry.” you nod in response. she sighs, relieved that you aren’t too annoyed. “yay! thank you!” she hums, and you set on your way to classroom 3-6.
you climb your way up to the third floor, and let yourself inside the classroom. you quickly identify your president’s desk by the large box filled with goodies. “oh?” an airy yet warm voice hums. “what are you doing here?”
you turn your back and see yukimiya; bags in hand and everything..! “ah, hey..!” you awkwardly greet him. you’re not quite sure what you should say. “just… doing a favor. what about you?”
“i just forgot my lunchbox before i went down for training.” he hums, quickly grabbing his aforementioned lunchbox. at the mention of a lunchbox, you perk up. you hadn’t eaten at lunch, so you were awfully hungry. “ah..! you looked at me the second i mentioned my lunchbox!” he chuckled. “are you hungry? all i have is some packaged snacks.” he warns. he carelessly drops his school bag and training gear on another desk, and starts to move in your direction. all whilst opening the lunchbox, looking for something that you could to snack on.
you awkwardly laugh, embarrassed that he caught you. “honestly, i’ll take anything… thanks, yukimiya.” you graciously take the packaged rice cracker snack from his hands. yukimiya hums, “call me yukki; my friends call me that, and it’s much less formal too.”
your eyes go down, downcast to avoid eye contact.
a popular boy just told you to call him a nickname his friends call him..! is this what it’s like to have a love life..?!
as your eyes remain low, you catch a glimpse of a stained container, it looks as if barney the dinosaur had died in it. “what did you have for your recess? it looks messy…” you bluntly ask, not even thinking that it was probably a bit weird to ask.
“oh? i just had some blueberries. they were pretty lukewarm by the time break time came, though..! some of them got crushed. hence, the mess…” he laughs.
“blueberries? …i’ve never really liked the taste. or… it’s more like the lack of taste…” you place the box on a random desk and sit on a chair. you could kill some time, club was technically over anyways. he raises an eyebrow at your words, “really? i think they’re pretty good. plus, they help with my eyesight.”
“your eyesight? is it that bad? i feel like i only started seeing you wear glasses about two months ago.” yukimiya looks hesitant to answer, you probably crossed some sensitive territory…
“ah… not exactly… i guess, i just want to maintain my vision as it is. so it won’t get worse, is all.” he explains, and you nod. “ah, that makes sense.”
there’s an awkward moment of silence. where do you go from this..?
“…hm… so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?” you clarify, hoping that he’d go into further detail. he pauses for a second. his muscles grow tense, as if he has realized something. but, he nods. “that’s right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.”
he’s lived this before. his nails claw on the desk, itching to ground himself to reality.
this isn’t a dream.
this is real life.
and, he’s finally talking to the faceless girl.
like in his dream, he turns his head, and sees you painted orange and pink by the fading sunset. you look even more exquisite now that he can see and recognize your face. your eyes shine in contrast to the setting sun, and your lips quiver, as you try to think of something to say.
your hair is a bit more messier than in his dream. and your posture is quite stiff— no, awkward is a better word. your frame is awkward and anxious, he thinks. but, you still look just as divine as he dreamed you to be.
“hah, maybe you’d benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.” you laugh.
“ahah, i wouldn’t hate that too much… so, why not?” he shrugs. again, that pesky nervousness in his shoulders is back. seeing the girl he has, quite literally, dreamed of for a week and a half now is something he’s wanted for a while now. his rose-tinted view of the mysterious girl is makes him feel nervous now that he’s met you.
“ah..!” you audibly gasp, “really? maybe i’ll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentines’ day then!” you joke.
he’s heard those exact words before already, but it still flustered him.
i..is that so? heh, i guess that just means i’ll have to return the favor on white day.” he laughs. it’s getting late. the teachers are gonna lock the classroom doors soon, so the two of you should probably leave. he grabs his school bag and training gear, as well as his lunchbox.
you seem to get the hint, and stand up as well. you yawn, covering your mouth to save yourself some dignity, and small tears form in your eyes. “ahh… anyway, i have to take this down to my club room… i’ll see you, yukki.” you bid goodbye, trying on the new nickname for size.
but, yukimiya’s not ready to say goodbye just yet.
“ahh.. do you want me to carry that for you..? you seem pretty tired, so…” he wanders off, “are you okay?”
you reluctantly let him carry the box, and the two of you begin to walk down the stairs to your clubroom. “yeah, i’m alright… i just haven’t been sleeping well.” you hum, “i’ve tried basically everything… but, i can’t seem to sleep.”, you sigh.
“ah, seems annoying… but, i can’t do much to fix that. sorry…” he responds. his response seems a bit absent-minded though, as if he wasn’t focusing on what he said.
that was because his attention was directed to the lack of distance between the two of you. he’s been this close to other girls before… but, being close to you seems to make his heart pound right outside of his chest.
“eh, it’s not your fault. don’t worry to much about it.” you wave it off, as if it was a minor inconvenience.
the rest of the walk was uncomfortably silent but soon enough, you’re at your club room. you graciously open the door for yukimiya, which lets him get inside easily and place the box on a nearby table.
“heh… thanks, superman.” you smile. and yukimiya’s eyes move to avoid contact, embarrassed by the nickname. “oh, uhh… it really wasn’t a problem, so don’t worry about it.” he awkwardly laughs.
“i didn’t keep you too long, did i?” you ask. he’s not too sure what else he could’ve been busy with, but he’s touched by your concern. “nope, don’t worry too much.” he chides.
“just a habit, hehe…” you explain yourself as you move to grab your own school bag. “a—anyways, i’ll see you, yukki..!” you bid him goodbye for the second time today, waving your hand goodbye.
but again, yukimiya still isn’t quite ready to say goodbye.
“oh— do you want me to walk you home..?” he offers, quite forwardly, at that.
your face scrunches at his offer, anxious to be taking up so much of his time today, “n..no, that’s asking too much now… it’s fine, don’t worry too, okay?” you laugh, throwing back his own advice.
yukimiya scoffs, recognizing his own hypocrisy. he’s a bit saddened by the fact that you rejected his offer, but he has to respect your decision. “alright… then, maybe you wanna… hang out sometime..?” he sounds nervous. he’s never had to be the one asking someone out, so he doesn’t know how to ask someone to ‘hang out’.
“i..i can pay too if money’s a concern. i’m the one who’s asking you out after all, it’s only fair.” he rationalized. you mull it over for a quick minute, and you finally respond, “sure, but you really don’t have to do all that..! it’s not like this would be a date…” you reassure him.
for some reason, that last part hurt. he wishes that it was a date. his shoulders visually slum down in disappointment, but there’s still a sense of hope to his expression.
he’s willing to put time into this. he wants to know more about you; know why you’re appearing in his dreams. he nods, “yeah, that’s fair enough… are you free this saturday? we can just go around the city.”
“mhm. sounds like a plan.” you nod.
he grins, “great. i’ll see you—,” he pauses. he never asked about your name..! here he was disappointed about dates, and wanting to know more about you, but he doesn’t even know what your name is..! he should probably just disappear, this is too embarrassing. there’s no recovering from this—
“s/o.”
what?
“my name is s/o.” you inform him.
yukimiya snaps out of his humiliated state long enough to respond, “ah, i see..! my mistake for not ever asking for your name. heh, i guess i just got a bit too comfortable.” you laugh at his scatterbrainedness, and wave it off. “it’s fine, i got a bit comfortable too, so i forgot to tell you my name.”
he’s glad that you also felt comfortable with him, but he has a feeling that you have a different meaning for comfortable…
he felt as if he’s already known you. but, you simply thought of him as a schoolmate that you’re familiar with. it was his mistake for thinking of you as the faceless girl from his dreams, rather than the much more lifelike girl that stood before him.
“right… well, i’ll see you, s/o.” he smiles as he waves goodbye, his smile much wider than it had been before he met you in that classroom. you nod, waving goodbye as well. “yeah! bye, yukki!”
the two of you walk toward the school exit together before finally parting ways, leaving yukimiya feeling as if he’s separated with a part of him.
it was odd that he’s already this attached to you. but, maybe that was just because of the fact that the two of you just naturally clicked. or, the fact that he’s seen and talked with your faceless self in ephemeral periods when time stood still— all of it in romantic, rose-tinted glasses.
the moment he came home, he has just been a ticking time bomb, waiting for the moment he can see you again. he’s never felt quite as nervous as he does right now.
his heart feels like a heavy weight in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. he can’t have a crush on you already… can he?
it’s a question that haunts yukimiya as he lies in bed, anxious and unable to sleep.
and for the first time in a while, you have a good night’s rest.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk fluff#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock yukimiya#bllk yukimiya#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya x reader#yukimiya fluff#kenyu yukimiya x reader#blue lock yuki
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"Wrapped in Wicked Romance" Story Event: Epilogue
Ring Schwartz
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
Ring: I’m asking you out on a date!
His date proposal that sounded more like a request to duel left me standing there wide-eyed in shock.
Nica: … Ring. You’re not challenging her to a fight. Can you try again, but be more relaxed this time?
Nica shrugged in exasperation, thinking the same thing I was.
Nica: Also, you didn't explain yourself well.
Ring: Oh, uhh… right. My bad.
Ring: We couldn’t have a proper date with all that happened the other day, so…
Ring: I want to take you out on a date again. Can… can I?
His voice was shaking as he nervously asked for my response.
I couldn't bear to reject him, seeing that he was trying his best.
Besides… I realised after our last date that I wanted to get to know him better, so there was no reason for me to refuse.
Kate: I’d love to.
Ring: R-really!? I’m not dreaming… right? YES…!
Nica: This is reality. Good grief… look at you getting so excited as if you two are really in a relationship.
Darius: Isn’t that great, Ring?
…
The next day, Ring and I went for our date right away.
While waiting outside Crown’s castle, I saw Ring sprinting towards me from a distance at full speed.
Ring: … S-sorry! I’m late…!
Kate: No, you’re right on time. I’m the one who came early.
Kate: You arrived first and waited for me the last time, so… I thought I’d be the one to wait this time.
Ring: I-is that so? Then, next time I’ll come early t—
Ring: Ah… no, nevermind.
Ring’s words cut off mid-sentence, realising there might not be a next date.
That kind of made me feel lonely.)
(... I never realised how badly I wanted to spend more time with him.)
Whether it was his endearing shyness due to being unaccustomed to interacting with women that made me want to tease him a little, or his kindness for thinking about others, or even the evil side of him that could mercilessly kill under Darius’ orders… I wanted to know even more about him.
I felt that one date wouldn't be enough, and so…
Kate: Next date, it’ll be your turn to come early.
I picked up where Ring cut himself off, so that we would entirely erase the possibility of future dates happening.
Ring: Y-yeah… that's right!
Ring: Even though I can’t fall asleep the night before our dates… I’ll do my best to wake up early.
Ring nodded so vigorously that I was worried his head might fall.
I felt relieved and at the same time, my chest was filled with a tingling warm feeling .
Ring: But first of all, let’s make sure today’s date goes smoothly.
Ring: Y-your outfit today… It reminds me of the colour of Bluebells. It looks beautiful.
Ring: A-and your hairstyle… it’s amazing. It’s braided like chains…
Ring: … I think it suits you and… you look lovely.
Kate: I discussed with the maids at Crown’s castle before deciding on my clothes and hairstyle! Thank you for the compliments.
Ring: I see… alright, I’ve done the compliments part…
Ring: Next is… uhh… you can hold my arm.
Ring said and thrust his right arm out at me.
(The last time, he made an excuse saying he was “warming up”.)
The slight improvement made me smile tenderly, and I gently placed my hand on his arm.
Kate: Thank you. Well then, let’s get going!
…
And so, we went to The Scala, which we couldn't do the last time, and watched a play.
Afterwards, we explored the city while shopping, and I introduced him to a restaurant that was both affordable and served delicious food.
We spent our time to the fullest, enjoying everything London had to offer.
…
Ring: … Everything felt so new to me.
Ring: Thank you for the enjoyable date, Robin.
Kate: I’m glad you had fun! By the way, what was the most impressive experience for you?
Ring: … Definitely Liam’s acting.
Ring: He’s usually all sparkly and pink, but when he went on stage today, he was more of a glaring black colour.
It was a unique description, but it was clear as day how moved he was by Liam’s performance.
Kate: Fufu, I’ll make sure to tell Liam that you enjoyed his performance!
Kate: Also… can I ask you another question?
Ring: What is it?
Kate: … Was today’s date also Darius’ order?
Ring: …
Ring: … Looks like you’ve seen right through me.
Seemingly having accepted the situation, Ring began explaining.
Apparently, Darius suggested the idea of going on a date today because Ring and I weren’t able to interact properly the last time.
Kate: I see…
Ring: … Robin?
Kate: I had a hunch this was all Darius’ idea, but…
Kate: I also kind of hoped that you asked me out because you wanted to… so I feel a little lonely.
Ring: ah…
(I guess I was just selfish for wanting to know the truth… now I feel somewhat embarrassed.)
Kate: Sorry for making it awkward! Let’s head back.
Ring: W-wait! It’s true that it was Dari’s idea this time…
Ring: But even if he didn't make the suggestion, I think I would’ve still invited you on a date myself.
Ring: You’re a dangerous person… with a curse that makes my heart race every time.
Ring: I think… I need to get to know more about you and come up with a strategy to counter it.
Ring: So… I want to spend more time with you.
(A curse that makes his heart race…?)
Of course, I wasn't a Cursed One. The reason why Ring’s heart was racing was likely because he isn’t used to being around women.
(But… regardless of the reason, I’m glad to know he wants to get to know me better.)
Kate: I want to have more time to get to know you too. So… I’ll look forward to that from now on.
Kate: By all means, find out a lot of things about me and figure out your strategy.
Ring: Y-yeah… bring it on!
We’ve only just met not too long ago, so there were still many things about each other that were unknown to us.
Even so, one thing was certain— we both wanted to know more about each other.
I don't know what kind of relationship we’ll build in the future as I grow more familiar with Ring…
But, right now, I’m just happy that we share the same feelings.
#ikemen villains#ikemen series#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#ikevil translations#otome#ikevil story event#ring schwartz
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LOVE UR WORK!
I was wondering if you could write a fluff about the prema team makes a video of all the drivers doing dares and kimi’s dare is to kiss who ever walks in the room next and its the reader!
He gets all flustered and his ears turn red but he kisses u 😍
Ask Me Again (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Prema! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 1
Requested: Clearly (I had too much fun with this lol) (Also, happy New Year yall!)
Warnings: None
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 1337
Summary: As part of Kimi and Ollie's final Prema media day, they may have pushed the boundaries a bit, but Kimi wins.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
~~(^Pinterest)
“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You said as soon as you walked into the studio where you were meant to assist in filming your first video with Prema. Of course, everything had to go wrong on the one day you needed to make a good impression on the team.
You rushed around the room, dropping your bag to the side and going up to the nearest crew when you noticed that everyone was quiet. Everyone was looking at you, not saying a word. Heck, you weren’t even sure if they were breathing. All you know is that you were very confused.
~30 minutes earlier~
“Alright, here’s the plan, boys,” Angelina started as soon as Ollie and Kimi sat down for their final media shoot for Prema. “It’s truth or dare, but we let you guys include some of the dares. I hope you two stayed PG with it.”
“I may have pushed it a little, but I’m just gonna hope I don’t get one of the dares I put,” Ollie chuckled as he put his hands up.
“I hate you sometimes,” Kimi groaned as he leaned back on the couch before looking over at Angelina. “Is it too late to back out?”
“Technically, no because the new camera operator isn't here yet, but we’re getting started anyway. If they show up, they show up, but we’ve got a tight schedule to uphold,” She explained before going behind the cameras and gesturing to start recording. “You boys ready?”
“I guess?” Kimi replied, but it sounded more like a question while Ollie just nodded enthusiastically.
“Today, for your last Prema video, you two will be playing truth or dare. Whoever refuses to answer a question or do a dare first will be penalized. Ollie, you’ll choose first since you’re older.”
“Dang, that’s age-ist of you to say,” Ollie joked lightly as he inspected the two piles of cards. “Let’s start easy and go with truth.”
“Wimp,” Kimi scoffed as he grabbed the top card. “What did you love most about Prema?”
“Probably, the different challenges we did,” Ollie chuckled as he looked straight at the camera. “Your turn.”
“Truth, I guess,” Kimi shrugged.
“Who is your dream teammate? And I’m adding this: you can’t say me or George!” Ollie read off before throwing the card down.
“I think I’d have to say Lewis,” Kimi said pretty quickly.
“Everyone wants to be teammates with Lewis,” Ollie sighed, “Come on! Pick someone random!”
“Fine,” Kimi rolled his eyes, “I think It would be fun to be teammates with Kimi Raikkonen or Pierre Gasly.”
“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Ollie clapped as they rapid-fired truths back and forth. They unspokenly decided it would be better to get all of the truths out of the way before getting into the dares. “Alright, Kimi, here’s your dare. You have to kiss the next person who comes in the room! I’m so glad I didn’t get that one.”
“You’re kidding me,” Kimi groaned as he hid his face in his hands, laughing. “Knowing my luck, I’ll have to kiss Rene!”
“That’s why I’m glad it’s not me,” Ollie teased. “We’ll have to wait for the next person, so hit me with the next one.”
“You have to post the oldest selfie on your Instagram story,” Kimi smirked, knowing exactly which selfie it was. Ollie had shown it to him once on a drunk night out, but it was highly embarrassing. Ollie immediately grew red as he remembered the picture as well. “Ah, not so funny now, is it?”
“What if we cancel the two out?” Ollie chuckled nervously. “We could both redraw and do those instead.”
“Depends on the other options,” Kimi said as he picked up the next card, “Your redraw is to have the team call your dad and say you got in a bad accident.”
“Absolutely not,” Ollie responded immediately with a sigh, “I can’t give him a heart attack like that.”
“So I guess you need to post a picture,” Kimi pressed. “You have to leave it up for the full 24 hours too.”
“No one reposts it, or I’m coming for you-” Ollie started lecturing before the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Then, his attention snapped to Kimi as an unfamiliar person came into view. Ollie started jabbing Kimi in his ribs as Kimi’s face grew red, knowing what was going to happen. Ollie then whispered, “I already posted it, so it's your turn.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You ranted as you tried to get acquainted with everything quickly when you suddenly froze, looking around at everyone staring at you. “Uh, what’s going on?”
“What’s your name?” Ollie spoke up first. Kimi was still partially hiding behind Ollie, red as ever, but he knew he would have to fulfill his dare before the team clocked him on it.
Without waiting for your answer to Ollie, you were too distracted looking around at the team to have heard the question anyway, Kimi stood up and walked up to you. He stopped in front of you briefly before cupping your face and whispering, “Mi dispiace (I’m sorry),” and planting his lips on yours.
It took you a second to realize what was happening, but by the time you did, he was already pulling away. He only pulled back enough to meet your eyes, his breath fanning across your lips. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, struggling to find the words for what you were thinking.
“I’m Kimi,” He whispered, answering one of your questions. “I’m one of the drivers, but this is our last media day before we both go to Formula 1. I was dared to kiss the next person who walked in, and that was you.”
“That’s…” You trailed off before hearing another voice.
“No offense, but how is that fair?” The person behind Kimi said. “I have to post an incredibly embarrassing selfie, and you get to kiss a hottie? That’s not fair.”
“Ollie, you wrote the dare, so shut up,” Kimi scoffed, “Plus, you wanted me to kiss Rene!”
“I didn’t want you to kiss Rene. I hoped you would kiss Rene,” The other guy - Ollie - clarified, “There’s a difference.”
“Okay, boys,” You interrupted, gently removing Kimi’s hands from your face and taking a step back. “Let me introduce myself. Hi, I’m Y/n, the new camera operator. Now, I’m sure we’re running on a timeframe,” you said as you looked over to Angelina, who interviewed you and nodded your way. “Let’s get back to work. The faster we get this done, the sooner you guys can be freed.”
“Before we get back to the dares,” Kimi brought up as he walked back in front of the cameras again and sat next to Ollie on the couch, “Can I maybe get your number after this?”
“Get some, Kimi!” Ollie cheered, pushing against Kimi’s arm and hyping him up.
You looked over at Angelina again, who was laughing and shaking her head in disbelief. You made eye contact with her. Then she leaned closer to you and whispered, “If you want to, you can, but after we finish filming. He’s still one of our drivers now, so it’s against company policy. Since this is the last thing for them, they won’t be under contact anymore.”
“Ask me again after filming,” You replied with a wink, causing Kimi’s eyes to go wide and his face to blush once again. “Now, let’s wrap this up!”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#andrea kimi antonelli x reader#andrea kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli#kimi x reader#prema team#mercedes amg petronas#formula 1 x reader#formula 2 x reader#formula 2#formula 1#formula 2 imagine#formula 1 imagine#f1#f2#f1 x reader#f2 x reader#f2 x you#f2 imagine#f2 fanfic#bad268#ship268#thing268#bad268 clingy antonelli universe
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-dancing with you in our dream kitchen-
summary : you and carlos dance in your own kitchen...
PAIRINGS : carlos sainz x fem!reader
WARNINGS : none
note : I love you guys!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The soft hum of the evening filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of dinner cooking in the oven. You stood in the middle of your kitchen, surrounded by sleek countertops, polished cabinets, and all the little touches that made it feel like home. It wasn’t just a kitchen—it was the dream kitchen you and Carlos had envisioned together. Every detail, from the marble backsplash to the brass handles on the drawers, had been chosen with care. It was a space you both loved, where every meal shared, every conversation, felt meaningful.
Carlos was at the stove, flipping something in the pan, his focused expression softening with a smile as he glanced over at you. He looked so at home here, just as much as you did. You caught his eye, and without a word, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” he asked, turning down the heat on the stove and walking over to you, his curiosity piqued.
“You just... look so good in this kitchen,” you said, still smiling. “I can’t believe we actually did this. Our dream kitchen.”
Carlos grinned, pulling you closer with a gentle tug. “Well, we both know we’ve put in the work for it. And now we get to enjoy it. So, what are we waiting for?”
Before you could respond, Carlos placed his hands on your waist, and without hesitation, he pulled you into him. The song that had been playing softly in the background caught your attention—a sweet, slow melody that seemed to fill the air with an undeniable warmth.
“Carlos,” you began, laughing softly as his hands rested against your back. “We’re in the kitchen. I’m not sure if this is exactly the place to—”
“Who says you can’t dance in the kitchen?” Carlos interrupted, his voice low, teasing. “It’s just us here. Let’s make the most of it.”
And just like that, you found yourself in his arms, moving gently with the music. At first, it was awkward—your feet shifting a little unsurely on the smooth tile floor—but Carlos’ steady presence calmed you. He pulled you closer, and the awkwardness melted away as the two of you swayed together, your movements more natural now.
“See?” Carlos murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head as he held you. “This is perfect.”
You couldn’t help but agree. There was something magical about dancing together in this space you had both worked so hard for. The kitchen wasn’t just a room anymore—it was where memories were being made, where laughter and love bloomed in the little moments. This, right here, was your dream. No fancy ballroom, no grand venue—just the two of you, lost in the rhythm of the music, in the comfort of your shared life.
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as you continued to sway, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “This feels... right.”
Carlos grinned down at you, his expression tender. “It feels perfect. Just like everything we’ve built together.”
As the song played on, you felt your heart swell with love for him. The world outside didn’t matter. Not at this moment. It was just the two of you, the kitchen, and a song that somehow captured the essence of everything you both had. Simple. Genuine. Beautiful.
Carlos gave you a little spin, and you laughed, delighted by the playful move. When he pulled you back into him, his face softened, and you could see the affection in his eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever built,” Carlos said softly, his voice full of sincerity.
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. There were moments in life when you knew, deep in your bones, that you had everything you ever needed. This was one of those moments. In your dream kitchen, with the man you loved, everything felt complete.
“Dancing with you is my favorite part of our dream,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his chest.
Carlos chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing through your hair. “Then let’s keep dancing,” he murmured. “We’re just getting started.”
And so, in the heart of your kitchen, with the evening light soft around you both, you danced. No need for anything more. Just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the music and the quiet joy of sharing a dream together.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#masterlist#christmas#f1 imagine#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz f1#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz junior#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x female reader#Spotify
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