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brokenmenswhore · 11 months ago

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release | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: jace is on the brink of snapping and lashing out toward his mother and her council for their lack of action against the greens, so you give him another outlet for his frustration

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, jace is a lil rough & feral in this one, threats (reader consents but may appear as dubcon)

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“And what of those who sent him?” Jacaerys snapped, questioning his mother as they buried yet another body.

He was angry. He couldn’t help but lose people. Everyone around him kept fleeing or dying, and he tried desperately to hold his tongue, but his patience was slipping. War was inevitable, and he was frustrated at his mother’s lack of action toward the opposing force. He wanted revenge, retaliation, and most of all, he wanted to be the one to give it.

As the eldest son, however, he tried not to cause a scene, knowing he played an important role in this war, and hoping that his silence and unwavering support of his mother’s decisions would breed the proper trust that was needed to allow him more involvement and access in the war.

He was evidently tense at council meetings. His tongue was becoming sharper with each sentence related to the war. He couldn’t help it. He pushed through the doors to your chambers, angry and frustrated from the events of the day.

He stopped short when he saw you turn in your chair to face him. Taking a deep breath, the tension in his body dropped. “I need a hug.”

You smiled, standing and approaching him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You remained a step lower than him in the entrance. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I just don’t understand why she won’t do anything,” he began, “I know she doesn’t want this war. I don’t want this war, but it’s happening. We have all lost so much, and it will not stop. Why won’t she do something?”

“Perhaps she believes it can still be avoided,” you responded.

“How much blood from my family must be split before she realizes it can’t?”

Your heart ached for him. You wanted to hold him in the hug forever, curing all his pain and never letting him out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Jacaerys.”

“It is not a fault of yours,” he replied, “it is just exhausting. I wish for a break from all of this, even if just momentary. I feel as if any moment, I may break, and I do not wish to take these frustrations out on my mother or her council. It would only cause the situation to worsen.”

You looked up at him, “then take it out on me.”

“What?”

“Take your frustrations out on me, Jace.”

“You do not deserve such treatment.”

You sighed, “but I am asking for it. Allow yourself to have an outlet. Why else am I here?”

Jacaerys was bewildered, “you are not here for me to take my anger out on. I would not do such a thing.”

“I wish for you to relax. I would not speak the offer if I did not mean it. Please, Jace.”

Jace leaned down to kiss you, initiating a sweet, intimate kiss before his frustrations took over and he deepened the kiss, gripping your thighs, causing you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He continued to kiss you as you clung to his shoulders, his steps towards the bed shaking you and causing you to nearly fall.

The Velaryon prince was usually quite nice to you, making sure to take things slow and constantly checking in on your comfort and pleasure. He would typically slowly drop your back onto the mattress, but tonight, he quite literally pushed you down, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you into the mattress.

You moaned at the eagerness of it all, Jace’s hands running up and down your side, gripping your waist and pushing your hips down, until your legs were no longer wrapped around his body. Never breaking the kiss, he lifted up your nightdress, his fingers finding their way under your small clothes, not giving you time to ease into it as he began roughly rubbing circles on your clit.

You squealed into the kiss. Jace moved to begin sucking bruises into your neck, his hair falling in front of his face, as he continued to rub you. You couldn’t help but moan, trying your hardest to remain as quiet as possible, since his little brother’s chambers were just a wall away.

“He’s not here,” Jace groaned.

You could barely speak. “What?”

“He’s not in his chambers. He’s out with Arrax. Stop holding back,” Jace demanded, “wanna hear what I’m doing to you.”

This controlling nature was a change, but you didn’t mind it at all. You stopped trying to quiet yourself, a moan of his name leaving your lips as he pushed a finger into you.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “you sound so pretty.”

“T-thank you,” you responded.

Jacaerys didn’t stop curling his finger inside of you, but giggled, “did you just thank me?”

“Mhm,” you moaned.

“You’re too cute,” he said, breaking his frustrated and controlling demeanor for a second, the compliment making your heart swell as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

He felt you start to squeeze, and he immediately pulled his hand away from you. You sighed in disappointment.

He lifted you from under your arms, shifting you so you were sitting up, as he began to undo his breeches.

“I just wish I could go to King’s Landing,” he started, pushing his small clothes down and allowing his cock to be free, “I’d kill every last one of them.”

He gripped your hair, pushing your face down until it was level with his cock. “Open.”

You did as he told you, opening your mouth as he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately hitting the back of your throat. He was big, too big to fit completely in your mouth, but you were getting better and better at breathing through your nose to avoid gagging around his cock.

“Not today,” he sighed, “stop holding back or I’ll fuck it out of your throat.”

You listened to him, forgetting everything you know about avoiding gagging, and allowing him to direct your head up and down, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every single thrust. You gagged and choked around him, but he didn’t let up.

“They think they’re so big and bad,” he said, breathy from the pleasure of your mouth around him, “if only they were around me. I could take all of them. I could end their whole fucking line.”

He began to thrust his hips at a vicious pace. You had no choice but to take it, trying your best to continue sucking and swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he fucked your mouth mercilessly.

“I’d end their whole. fucking. line,” he said again, speaking through each thrust and throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, get up, I’m not done with you yet,” he commanded, pulling you off of him to stop himself from coming before he wanted to.

You didn’t dare adjust your position without his say so. You sat there waiting for him to put you where he wanted you. He flipped your body over, pressing your face into the pillow as he pulled your hips up to meet his. He took both of your wrists in one hand, locking them behind your back as his other hand guided his cock into your entrance and then moved to your waist as he started rocking into you, pushing you further and further into the mattress.

Your body folded and became weak, as much of you falling into the bed as was possible, the only thing keeping your hips upward was the rough grip Jacaerys had on them. You whined and moaned, your entire body rocking forward with each snap of his hips.

“Seven hells,” he breathed out, his pace never relenting, “are you still okay?”

“Mhm,” you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Shit, I hate not being able to hear you,” he said, pulling out of you and flipping your body so you were flat on the mattress, facing him. “That’s better,” he smiled, immediately fucking back into you with no warning.

You cried out, grabbing his face and kissing him through the intensity. He grunted into the kiss, having never fucked you, or anyone for that matter, this hard before. All of his pent up rage and frustration was being taken out on your cunt.

Your back arched off the mattress, Jace taking the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you even closer to him.

He spoke with every thrust, “I. Want. Revenge.”

“I k-know,” you moaned out.

“I. Want. Fucking. Revenge.”

It was overwhelming, and the intensity with which he was fucking you started to make your head cloudy. “J- Jace, it’s too m-“

Jacaerys cut you off by kissing you, doing everything he can to stop your words. “You can take it, baby.”

“I c-“ the pressure was so intense. You could feel your walls start to squeeze around his cock, and his pace was relentless.

“You can,” he said, looking directly into your eyes, “and you will.”

You nodded and let him continue splitting you open on his cock, dropping your waist down to the mattress again as he fucked into you, hands rough on your waist as they pushed you down.

Your eyes filled with tears. Jacaerys had never seen you like this, crying from the intensity, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead as you writhed under him. He didn’t know he was capable of making you feel like this, and he didn’t know you would look so fucking pretty as a result.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, “I’m close.”

You couldn’t even respond, you just continued to whine and moan under him, watching his face contort as he released inside of you. The final few thrusts of his hips were cruel, his large length hitting that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. Through his high, he could feel you close, and he forced himself to continue pushing in and out of you until you met your climax.

Your legs shook as a wave of pleasure washed over you, your entire body eventually melting into the bed with weakness. Jace waited a moment before pulling out of you, kissing you as he did so.

You tried hard to catch your breath, but it took you longer than you anticipated. Jace, ever so attentive, looked down at you and asked, “you okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I should start making you mad.”

#jacaerys valeryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon one shot #jacaerys velaryon drabble #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon imagines #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon #house of the dragon

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goldfades · 7 months ago

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TROUBLE ─── RAFE CAMERON

request for blurb night! : "ev, hear me out—reader is sarah’s best friend who used to babysit wheezie. she's always thought rafe was just some spoiled rich kid until one night he helps her out of a dangerous situation, and she see a different side of him"

The sound of cicadas swells in the sticky summer air as you maneuver your car into the Camerons’ circular driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The house stands before you, grand and overbearing, like something pulled straight from a Southern Gothic novel. Even after all these years, it still has a way of making you feel out of place, like you’re trespassing on a life far removed from your own.

You killed the engine and take a deep breath, your hands lingering on the steering wheel. Coming here used to feel second nature—a daily part of your routine back when you were just Sarah’s friend who needed extra cash and Wheezie was a chatty eight-year-old who never seemed to run out of energy.

Now, it feels complicated. It’s not like you’re unwelcome here—Rose is always polite in her distant, Stepford kind of way, and Wheezie practically lights up whenever she sees you. Sarah treats you like family, but there’s always been one Cameron who makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

Rafe.

Spoiled, sharp-tongued, entitled Rafe, whose condescending smirk had been a permanent fixture of your teenage years. The golden boy with a black hole of a temper, a trust fund, and an ego that stretched for miles. You’d never understood him, and frankly, you’d never wanted to. He was a hurricane you learned to avoid at all costs, never lingering too long in his orbit.

But life has a funny way of pulling you into places you swore you’d never go.

You grab your bag from the passenger seat and step out into the muggy heat, your sandals crunching against the gravel. Somewhere inside the house, you hear the faint echo of laughter—Wheezie, probably, shouting at Sarah over a card game or some other nonsense. The sound makes you smile despite yourself.

You weren’t always someone the Camerons—or anyone from Figure Eight, for that matter—gave the time of day. Growing up, you were just another Pogue, another kid from the Cut with hand-me-down clothes and a chip on your shoulder. The people from Sarah’s world weren’t interested in you back then. Why would they be? You had nothing they wanted—no yacht, no country club membership, no sprawling waterfront property. You didn’t mind much. You had your own circle, your own rhythm, and you learned to brush off the condescending stares whenever you ventured into their territory.

But everything changed when your dad’s business took off. What started as a small, bare-bones construction company turned into one of the most in-demand firms in the Outer Banks almost overnight. Suddenly, the same people who used to look through you like you were invisible started remembering your name. Invitations to parties you’d never have been considered for started showing up in your mailbox. They weren’t just tolerating you—they wanted you there.

Sarah was one of the first to genuinely befriend you during that whirlwind of change. She wasn’t like the others, who only smiled at you because their parents said it was polite or because they wanted a favor from your dad. She liked you for you—your sarcasm, your groundedness, your tendency to keep it real in a place where everyone else seemed to be faking something. And through Sarah, you met Wheezie.

Wheezie was eight at the time, still caught between childhood and whatever it is that happens when you grow up as a Cameron. She adored you from the start, trailing behind you whenever you came over like a little shadow. You didn’t mind. She was funny, curious, and refreshingly unfiltered—a lot more like the kids from the Cut than anyone wanted to admit.

When Rose offhandedly mentioned they needed someone to look after Wheezie while she was busy managing the house (or hosting one of her endless charity luncheons), Sarah volunteered you without hesitation. “She’s perfect,” Sarah had said with that trademark confidence of hers, as though your schedule had already been cleared.

To your surprise, it worked out. Wheezie loved you, probably because you didn’t treat her like a chore or talk down to her like so many others did. You indulged her weird little interests, let her ramble on about books and whatever new drama she overheard in the house. You made her laugh.

And if the Camerons noticed you weren’t exactly one of their own, they didn’t seem to mind much anymore. After all, in their world, proximity to success was enough to erase just about anything.

Even after a couple years had passed, it’s a little funny how much has stayed the same. Every time you pull into the Camerons’ driveway, you still get the same sinking feeling, like you’re stepping onto foreign soil without a passport. Except now, it’s become a routine. Cameron game nights.

It started as an extension of the babysitting gig—a casual invite from Sarah, insisting you stay for dinner one night after watching Wheezie. Dinner turned into a board game that Sarah claimed was “super quick,” which turned into three hours of family chaos. It was ridiculous, overly competitive, and a little awkward with Rose monitoring everything like a referee, but Wheezie loved having you there, and Sarah was relentless in making sure you felt included.

At some point, it just became normal. Even after Wheezie grew out of needing a babysitter, the tradition stuck. Every week or two, Sarah would text you about game night, and somehow, you always said yes.

“You’re like an honorary Cameron,” Sarah had joked once, and you’d laughed because the idea of that felt ridiculous. But there were moments, like now, when you almost believed her.

Wheezie’s voice echoes from the living room the second you step through the door. “You’re late!”

“I’m literally on time,” you call back, closing the door behind you. The smell of freshly baked something wafts through the air, probably cookies Wheezie convinced Rose to make under the guise of a family bonding activity.

“Technically, Rafe’s late,” Sarah says, popping her head around the corner, already grinning. “You’re just cutting it close. Come on, Wheezie’s already plotting your downfall.”

You laugh and follow her into the living room, where the familiar chaos is already brewing. Wheezie’s sprawled across the couch, a pile of board game pieces spread out in front of her, while Ward sits in his chair, sipping a scotch like it’s all beneath him but still keeping a hawk’s eye on the rules. Rose flits between the kitchen and the table, not-so-casually reminding everyone to keep the snacks on coasters.

And then there’s Rafe.

He’s leaning back in one of the armchairs, his legs stretched out like he owns the place—which, technically, he does. A half-smirk tugs at his lips as he spins a stray game token between his fingers. He barely glances at you when you walk in, but you catch the faintest flicker of recognition.

It’s been years, but Rafe is still Rafe: cocky, restless, and way too pretty for his own good. He’s toned down some of the more obvious brattiness since the early days, but the edge is still there, sharp enough to cut if you’re not careful.

And, as always, you do your best to steer clear.

The quiet hum of the boutique fades behind you as you pull the glass door shut, twisting the key to lock it. The click echoes in the empty street, a sharp sound against the stillness of downtown this late at night. The once-bustling sidewalks are deserted now, the streetlights casting uneven pools of orange on the pavement. Most of the shops had closed hours ago, their dark windows reflecting the faint shimmer of the moon.

You adjust the strap of your bag over your shoulder and glance at your phone. 11:43 p.m. Later than you’d intended. It wasn’t your shift to close, but your coworker had begged you to cover for her last minute, and you couldn’t say no. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You’ve done this before. Downtown isn’t that bad, and your car is parked just a block away. Still, there’s something unnerving about the silence, the way the shadows stretch a little too far when you’re alone.

Reaching your car—a trusty but aging sedan that you inherited from your dad—you fumble with the keys before sliding into the driver’s seat. The interior smells faintly of the vanilla air freshener you keep on the rearview mirror, a comforting contrast to the chilly night air outside. You toss your bag onto the passenger seat, then grip the steering wheel as you turn the key in the ignition.

Nothing.

You pause, frowning. That’s… odd. Your car’s old, sure, but it’s never been completely unresponsive. You twist the key again, harder this time, willing it to come to life.

Still nothing.

A low groan escapes your throat as you lean back against the seat. This can’t be happening. Not tonight. Not here.

You pull out your phone, half-tempted to call Sarah or even your dad, but you hesitate. Sarah’s probably asleep by now, and your dad’s a good thirty minutes away—not to mention, he’d definitely give you a lecture about not keeping up with the car’s maintenance. Sighing, you pop the hood and step out into the cool night air, shivering slightly as a gust of wind cuts through your jacket.

The street around you is unnervingly quiet. A stray cat darts across the road, its shadow flickering under the streetlights. You glance around, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. It’s just your imagination, you tell yourself. No one’s here.

With a deep breath, you lift the hood and stare down at the engine like it might magically fix itself. You know a grand total of nothing about cars, but you wiggle a few cables anyway, hoping for a miracle. When you try the ignition again, the result is the same—silence, save for the faint hum of a streetlamp overhead.

Panic starts to creep in now, slow and steady. Your phone’s battery is hovering at 10%, and downtown—normally picturesque and charming by day—feels like a completely different place at night. The empty windows of the closed shops look less quaint and more sinister, their dark interiors like gaping mouths.

You lean back against the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as you weigh your options. Call someone? Walk to the gas station a few blocks down? Stay here and wait it out? None of them sound appealing, especially with the growing sensation that you’re being watched. You tell yourself it’s just nerves, but your skin prickles anyway, and you can’t help but glance over your shoulder every few seconds.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath. “This is how horror movies start.”

You huff out a shaky breath and decide to at least look under the hood. Not that you know what you’re doing, but it’s better than standing here like a sitting duck. Popping the latch, you step out into the cool night air again, every sound amplified in the unsettling quiet. Your shoes scrape against the pavement as you walk to the front of the car, lifting the hood and leaning over the engine.

The faint metallic scent of oil hits your nose as you peer into the mess of cables and parts. It all looks like a foreign language to you, but you fiddle with a few wires anyway, hoping for some kind of miracle.

That’s when you hear it—footsteps.

At first, you think maybe it’s nothing, just your imagination running wild, but then you hear them again, deliberate and getting closer. Your stomach clenches, and you straighten up, instinctively glancing over your shoulder.

Two figures are walking toward you from the opposite side of the street, their strides slow and unhurried. The dim streetlights reveal faces you vaguely recognize—Kooks, no doubt, probably from the same parties Sarah used to drag you to back in high school. Their names escape you, but the looks on their faces don’t—grins too wide, eyes too sharp, the kind of predatory energy that sets every nerve in your body on edge.

“Car trouble?” the taller one calls out, his voice carrying an edge of amusement as they stop a few feet away.

You force a tight smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah, I’ve got it handled. Thanks.”

The shorter one, stockier and wearing a backward baseball cap, steps closer, tilting his head like he doesn’t believe you. “Doesn’t look like it,” he says. His tone is casual, but the way his eyes flick over you makes your skin crawl.

“I’m fine,” you insist, taking a small step back toward the car. Your heart is pounding now, a sick thrum in your chest, but you keep your expression as neutral as possible.

“Hey, we’re just trying to help,” the taller one says, holding up his hands like he’s harmless, but there’s something almost mocking in his tone. “No need to be rude.”

The stocky one smirks, moving to your other side, effectively boxing you in against the car. “Yeah, we’re just being friendly.”

The air feels heavy, oppressive, and the space between you and them feels like it’s shrinking by the second. You can feel the tension in their postures, the way they’re both leaning in slightly, testing how far they can push.

Your throat tightens as you glance around, desperate for someone, anyone to come walking down the street. But there’s no one—just you and these two strangers who clearly don’t care that you’re uncomfortable.

“Look,” you say, trying to sound firm but calm, “I appreciate it, but I’m good. You don’t need to stick around.”

The taller one laughs, a low, unpleasant sound that makes your stomach churn. “Aw, come on. You’re out here all alone. What kind of gentlemen would we be if we just left you like this?”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the hood, your mind racing for a way out. You consider making a run for it, but they’re too close now, their presence suffocating.

Just as the stockier one steps even closer, his grin widening, a voice cuts through the tension, sharp and commanding.

“What’s going on here?”

The relief is instant and overwhelming, like a lifeline being thrown to you in a raging sea. You turn toward the sound, and there he is—Rafe Cameron, standing just a few feet away, his hands shoved casually into his pockets but his posture rigid, his eyes hard as they lock onto the two guys.

The taller one straightens up immediately, his smirk faltering. “Rafe,” he says, a weak attempt at sounding friendly.

Rafe doesn’t respond, his gaze shifting to you for the briefest moment before snapping back to them. “Didn’t realize we were having a party,” he says, his voice calm but laced with something dangerous. “You two invited?”

The stockier guy takes a step back, muttering something under his breath. “We were just leaving,” he says quickly, his bravado crumbling under Rafe’s glare.

“Yeah, you are,” Rafe says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The two exchange uneasy glances before slinking away, their footsteps echoing down the street until they disappear around the corner.

For a moment, all you can hear is the pounding of your heartbeat and the faint hum of Rafe’s truck idling in the distance.

“You good?” Rafe asks, his voice softer now but still steady, grounding.

You nod, your throat dry as you manage to croak out, “Yeah… I am now.”

Rafe watches the shadows where the two guys disappeared, his expression unreadable, his jaw tight. You half expect him to say something cutting, maybe some sarcastic remark about how you can’t take care of yourself, but when he finally looks at you, there’s no smugness. Only something... softer, almost hesitant.

“You’re lucky I saw you,” he says, his voice low. “That could’ve gone bad. Fast.”

You nod, your throat still tight from the tension of the moment. He’s right. You don’t even want to think about how that could’ve ended if he hadn’t shown up. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe’s brow furrows like he’s surprised you said it. He leans back slightly, glancing at the car hood still propped open. “What’s wrong with this thing?”

“Won’t start,” you reply, gesturing vaguely at the engine. “Not that I’d know what to look for.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up just slightly. “Yeah, I wouldn’t expect you to.” His tone lacks the usual edge, though—it’s not a dig, just a statement.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there in the quiet. The night air feels less suffocating now, the earlier tension replaced by a strange calm. Despite everything you know—or think you know—about Rafe Cameron, there’s something about his presence right now that makes you feel… safe. It’s unsettling, in its own way.

“You should be more careful,” Rafe says, breaking the silence. His gaze is steady, not mocking or judgmental, just serious. “Downtown this late? Alone? That’s asking for trouble.”

You bristle slightly, your instinct to defend yourself flaring up. “I didn’t exactly plan for my car to break down.”

He raises an eyebrow, but instead of snapping back, he just nods. “Fair.”

The quiet stretches between you again, but this time, it’s not uncomfortable. Rafe steps closer, peering under the hood with a practiced air, and you’re struck by how uncharacteristically gentle he seems. No biting remarks, no smug superiority—just calm focus.

He taps a cable lightly, muttering something under his breath, then steps back, closing the hood with a decisive thud. “Battery’s probably dead,” he says, glancing at you. “You need a jump.”

You nod, your nerves finally starting to settle. “I guess I’ll call someone.”

“Don’t bother,” he says, already walking toward his truck. “I’ve got cables.”

You blink, caught off guard by his matter-of-fact tone. He’s not offering—he’s telling you he’s going to help. And for some reason, you don’t argue.

A few minutes later, Rafe has his truck pulled up nose-to-nose with your car, the cables stretched taut between them. He works in silence, his movements efficient, and you watch from the sidelines, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“You should get in,” he says, nodding toward the driver’s seat.

You do as he says, sliding back into the familiar confines of your car. The moment feels oddly intimate—just the two of you on this empty street, the hum of his truck filling the air.

“Try it now,” he calls out, stepping back.

You turn the key, but instead of the engine sputtering to life, it lets out a defeated whine and falls silent again. You try one more time, your chest tightening with frustration and dread, but it’s no use. The car isn’t going anywhere tonight.

You let your forehead drop against the steering wheel with a groan. Of course. Just your luck.

Rafe’s voice cuts through the night air, low and steady. “It’s not gonna work. Battery’s dead for real.”

You sit up, pressing your lips together as he leans against the open driver’s side door, his arms crossed. His expression is unreadable, somewhere between amusement and mild concern.

“Great,” you mutter. “So, what now? I call a tow truck and wait here till dawn?”

Rafe tilts his head, his gaze flicking over you briefly before landing on your car again. “Or,” he says, “I could just drive you home.”

The offer catches you off guard, and you hesitate, your immediate instinct to say no. Riding home with Rafe Cameron? That’s about as far outside your comfort zone as you can imagine.

But then you glance down at your nearly dead phone, the empty street around you, and the sheer impossibility of getting a tow out here tonight. What other choice do you have?

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Rafe shrugs, the motion easy, like it’s no big deal. “You got a better plan?”

You don’t.

“Fine,” you say finally, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat and climbing out of the car. The night air feels colder now, pressing against your skin as you walk toward his truck.

Rafe opens the passenger door for you without a word, and you slide in, the faint scent of leather and cologne filling the cab. It’s clean but lived-in—practical, not flashy, which surprises you.

He climbs in on the driver’s side, pulling the door shut and starting the engine with a smooth turn of the key. The sound is steady, reliable, and for a moment, you envy how effortlessly everything in his life seems to work.

The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, the only sound the low hum of the truck and the occasional creak of the suspension as it rolls over uneven pavement. You glance out the window, watching the darkened storefronts blur past, trying to ignore the strange tension sitting between you.

“You gonna sit there and sulk the whole way?” Rafe asks, his voice breaking the silence.

“I’m not sulking,” you shoot back, turning to glare at him.

He smirks, his eyes still on the road. “Sure you’re not.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just… processing the fact that my car officially hates me. And that I had to be rescued by you of all people.”

His smirk softens into something closer to a smile, and for once, it doesn’t look mocking. “Yeah, well, it’s your lucky night, I guess.”

You roll your eyes but don’t respond, and the quiet settles over the truck again. It’s not entirely uncomfortable this time—just strange, like you’re both trying to figure out how to navigate this unexpected moment.

After a while, Rafe glances over at you, his expression more serious now. “You really shouldn’t be out here alone like that,” he says quietly.

You shift in your seat, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “I didn’t exactly plan for my car to break down,” you mumble.

“Still,” he says, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. “Things could’ve gone bad. You know that, right?”

You do. The memory of those guys, their leering smiles and the way they cornered you, is still fresh in your mind. A shiver runs through you, and you glance at Rafe, his profile sharp in the dim light from the dashboard.

“Thanks,” you say, softer this time. “For stepping in.”

His jaw tenses for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

The rest of the drive passes in a blur of streetlights and quiet conversation. When he finally pulls up outside your house, you feel an odd sense of disappointment, like the night is ending too soon.

Rafe cuts the engine and looks over at you, his expression unreadable again. “You good?”

You nod, your fingers curling around the strap of your bag. “Yeah. Thanks for the ride.”

He hesitates, his eyes searching yours for a moment, and you swear you see something uncharacteristically soft in his gaze. “Anytime,” he says, his voice low.

You climb out of the truck, turning back as you reach your front door. Rafe is still there, leaning slightly out of the window, watching you with an intensity that sends a strange flutter through your chest.

“Night, Rafe,” you call out, your voice steadier than you feel.

He nods once, his smirk returning, but there’s a warmth to it now that wasn’t there before. “Night.”

You watch as he drives off, the tail lights disappearing down the street, and you can’t shake the feeling that tonight, something shifted. Something you didn’t see coming.

The living room is alive with laughter and the sugary smell of freshly microwaved popcorn. Wheezie is sprawled across the couch, her legs tangled in a blanket as she debates the finer points of the movie you’ve just paused, while Sarah snorts beside her, throwing a handful of popcorn in her sister’s direction.

You sit cross-legged on the floor, sipping from your drink and soaking in the warmth of the moment. It feels good to let your guard down like this—to laugh and tease and forget for a little while.

“Okay, but how does she not realize he’s the bad guy?” Wheezie demands, gesturing dramatically at the screen.

“Because she’s blinded by love,” Sarah says, grinning. “Or maybe she’s just as dumb as you are.”

“Excuse me?” Wheezie gasps, clutching her chest in mock offense.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I feel like if someone was being that obvious about being evil, I’d notice.”

“Would you, though?” Sarah teases, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey!” you protest, chucking a stray pillow at her.

The playful banter continues, the night stretching on in a haze of easy conversation and snack-fueled chaos. You’re halfway through arguing over which movie to watch next when the sound of the front door opening pulls your attention.

You glance toward the entryway just as Rafe steps inside, his hair slightly mussed, his keys jingling in his hand. He pauses when he sees you all, his expression flickering from mild surprise to something unreadable.

“What’s this?” he asks, his voice carrying that familiar mix of curiosity and amusement. “A girls’ night?”

“Yeah,” Sarah says, throwing a popcorn kernel at him. “And you’re not invited.”

“Tragic,” Rafe deadpans, stepping fully into the room. His eyes flick to you for a split second, and your stomach does an unexpected flip.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just residual nerves from the other night. Nothing to do with the way his presence seems to fill the space or the way his gaze lingers just long enough to make your cheeks heat.

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t worry, I’m not staying.”

“Good,” Sarah says. “Bye.”

He ignores her, pushing off the frame and heading toward the kitchen instead.

“I’m getting more popcorn,” you announce quickly, needing a reason to escape the sudden heat prickling at your skin. You grab the empty bowl and dart toward the kitchen before anyone can respond.

The kitchen is cooler, quieter, and you exhale a sigh of relief as you cross to the counter. You’re halfway through scooping kernels into a bowl when you hear the low hum of Rafe’s voice behind you.

“Didn’t know you were here tonight.”

You jump slightly, glancing over your shoulder to find him leaning casually against the counter, his arms crossed and that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah, well,” you say, turning back to the task at hand, “I’m kind of a regular around here.”

“I’ve noticed,” he says, his tone light but edged with something that makes your stomach flutter.

You keep your focus on the popcorn, refusing to let him get to you. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

“Only when they’re interesting,” he shoots back smoothly.

You roll your eyes, but the flush creeping up your neck betrays you. “Interesting? That’s a stretch.”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm. “I don’t think so.”

His voice is closer now, and you glance up to find him standing beside you, his gaze fixed on your face. You freeze, your fingers tightening slightly around the bowl as you try to think of something—anything—to say.

“Relax,” he says, his lips quirking up into a grin. “You look like you’re about to run out of here.”

“I’m not,” you insist, though your voice comes out shakier than you’d like.

He leans in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I was starting to think I might scare you.”

“You don’t scare me,” you say quickly, your voice a touch too defensive.

“Hmm.” His smirk deepens, and he leans back, giving you just enough space to breathe again. “If you say so.”

With that, he grabs a water bottle from the fridge and steps away, throwing one last glance over his shoulder as he heads toward the stairs.

“Goodnight, trouble,” he calls out, his tone teasing but soft enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You stand there for a moment, staring after him, your heart racing and your face burning.

By the time you return to the living room with the popcorn, Wheezie and Sarah are too busy laughing at some inside joke to notice how flustered you are. You settle back into your spot on the floor, your mind still replaying the way Rafe’s voice sounded when he called you trouble.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months ago

Text

Last Day to Live

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You take a shot meant for someone else, and your boyfriend Tim Bradford has conflicting thoughts about your actions.

Warnings: brief angst, r is shot, Tim yells a lot, fluff at the end, canon typical warnings (suicide by cop attempt, domestic violence call)

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: I chose to make r a member of 20-David Squad (29-David) and envisioned this being the same reader/Tim dynamic as People Like Us, but it can be read alone!

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“There is absolutely no way that’s true,” Street states, shaking his head. “Tell the truth or I’m telling Deacon.”

“Telling Deacon what?” you question with a smile. “That I hurt your feelings?”

“Don’t make me separate you two again,” Deacon says as he enters the situation room.

“She started it,” Street grumbles.

“Sure she did,” Deacon replies, glancing at you.

“29-David!” Hondo calls. “Mid-Wilshire is requesting assistance in your neighborhood. Domestic call went sideways and the husband barricaded himself and his wife in the house. Want to go?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer. “All hands?”

Hondo shakes his head, and Deacon offers, “I’ll go with.”

“Wait- if I go, will you buy me lunch?” Street interjects.

You stop at the door, then say, “Thanks, Deac. I’ll drive.”

“What’s going on?” you ask as you approach a patrol car.

“Neighbor called to report a domestic dispute,” Officer John Nolan explains. “Couple was in the yard when we arrived. Husband opened fire on us, then led his wife back into the house and barricaded the door.”

“Anybody made contact?” Deacon inquires.

“No, sir.”

“Where’s your backup?” you ask.

“Chen and Bradford are trying to find a way in,” Nolan’s rookie Celina answers. “The neighbor said one of their windows was broken and accessible from the ground.”

You look over the top of the patrol car to survey the house. Deacon nods beside you, then tells you to stay with him as he approaches the door. With your helmets on, you move carefully along the fence to reach the front porch.

“Psst,” someone hisses.

Deacon raises his fist over his shoulder, then gestures forward twice. You step to the side and see two familiar LAPD officers ducked beneath a window.

“The wife’s in this room,” Tim whispers. “Interior door’s closed.”

“Eyes on the husband?” Deacon asks.

Lucy shakes her head, and Deacon points you toward the window. You circle Deacon and kneel beside Tim before sending Deacon a thumbs up. He nods, then moves toward the door.

“Can I get a hand up?” you ask Tim.

He moves onto one knee before lowering his hands. You lift your foot onto his thigh and secure your gun on your back before reaching for the windowsill.

Deacon knocks loudly and calls, “LAPD SWAT! Come to the door and open it slowly with both hands visible!”

With his cue, you push off Tim’s leg and pull yourself up as he lifts your leg to help you inside.

“Shh,” you direct when the injured woman looks up. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“He’s coming back,” she warns you.

Looking between her and the door, you raise your hand to your radio to communicate, “Three.”

If her husband is at the door by Deacon, he shouldn’t know what your alert means: that you're taking his wife out the three-side of the house. You help the woman up and move her to the window quietly. She stops when she sees Tim outside, so you say, “He’s going to help you. I promise. I trust him, and you can too.”

She nods, then lets you lift her up into the opening before taking Tim’s hands and holding onto him as he lowers her gently to the ground. You turn away from the window after you're sure she's okay and move toward the bedroom door.

“Rabbit! He’s heading toward the back door,” Deacon radios.

You attempt to calculate his steps, then kick the door open and step into the hallway with your gun raised. Your timing is good enough that the suspect nearly runs into you.

“LAPD SWAT,” you introduce. “Drop your weapon. You don’t want to piss me off any more, I guarantee that.”

Deacon enters the hallway from the other end, and the man tenses his jaw in a silent admission of defeat before dropping his gun and lifting his hands above his head.

“Not bad,” you muse as you approach Tim’s shop.

“Say thanks, Tim,” Lucy urges.

“Thanks for the assist,” Tim says.

“If you think you can handle it from here, I’ll see you tonight.”

Tim nods, and you smile at him before you return to Deacon’s side. Lucy watches you get in the grey Charger before she asks Tim, “Why weren’t you nicer? Showing affection isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

“This is work, Chen,” Tim reminds her. “When it’s not, I’ll act like it’s not.”

A week later, you sit in Black Betty as Luca rushes toward a Code 99 call from Mid-Wilshire. You know an officer is in grave danger, but you don’t know who. Taking deep, measured breaths, you focus on doing your job.

“Hicks texted,” Hondo says. You open your eyes to see he’s looking directly at you before he says, “It’s not Bradford.”

“Who is it?” you ask.

“He didn’t say. Just that half their division is there and they haven’t had any communication with the officer since he sent out the call for help. Can you do this?”

“Yes,” you reply. “It’s a police officer in danger. Regardless of who it is, I’m here, Hondo.”

“I’m here too,” Street interjects. “If you were curious.”

"We weren't," Tan assures him.

“15 seconds,” Luca alerts.

“Sergeant Grey’s waiting for us at mobile command,” Deacon says. “A cop’s life is at stake. Let’s do this right.”

You feel Street’s hand against your shoulder before you tap Deacon. He moves around the corner and leads you into the backyard of the suspect’s home. The homeowner called 911 and begged for help, then, when the responding officer arrived, he lured him inside and shot an innumerable amount of AR-15 rounds into his shop. The officer radioed a Code 99 nearly twenty minutes ago but hasn’t been heard from since, Wade explained before you moved onto the property.

“Any sign of our caller or brother in blue?” Hondo asks in your earpiece.

“Back door is wide open,” Deacon replies lowly. “No sound or movement from the three side.”

“Limited penetration entry?” you ask.

“Back door is open,” Deacon repeats. “Hondo, should we flash bang and move in?”

“Negative,” Hondo replies. “He’s heavily armed and has an officer hostage. Let’s not scare him.”

“We have to do something,” Street interjects.

“Who’s out there?” someone yells from inside.

You look at Deacon and raise your brows. Street moves to your side and holds his gun on the door.

“LAPD SWAT!” Deacon replies. “C’mon out and we can end this before it gets worse.”

“Worse?” the man repeats before laughing. “This is worse.”

“Keep him talking,” Luca requests. “We’ve got a way in.”

Deacon takes a measured step forward, but before he continues speaking, the police officer stumbles out of the door and sprawls out in the grass, unmoving. You jerk your hand forward to stop Street as the shooter exits the door with an AR-15 in one hand and a .357 Magnum on his hip.

“Go ahead,” he says, spreading his arms as he moves toward you. “Shoot me.”

“Sir, drop the weapon,” Deacon demands.

He smiles and lowers the AR as he takes another step. Deacon moves his elbow toward the injured officer, and you cover Street as he prepares to render first aid.

“I said shoot me,” the man repeats. “You know you want to.”

“I want you to drop the gun and put your hands up,” Deacon says. “This doesn’t have to end with you in a body bag.”

The man clicks his tongue, then raises the .357, flipping it in his hand as he looks at it. “Everybody dies.”

“20 squad,” Wade radios. “Bradford, Chen, and Nolan are heading toward you.”

“Drop the gun!” Luca demands as he enters the backyard from the other side of the house.

You watch the armed suspect closely, keeping an eye on which direction his shoulders are moving. Street whispers behind you, urging the officer to hold on, and you're going to make sure he gets a chance to do just that.

“What do you want me to do?” the man asks. “Let you get this officer some help? The way you helped my brother, when you put him in prison and he was killed?”

“Sir, you don’t have to go out like he did,” Hondo points out. “There’s a better way to make a difference.”

“There sure is.”

The man glances toward the injured officer, and he moves slightly, twisting his shoulders in your direction - in Street's direction. You don’t hesitate to drop your gun and shove Street flat onto the grass. A single, crisp firing sound fills your ears as you fall toward him.

You hear Tim yell as a scuffle ensues behind you. Handcuffs clip less than twenty seconds later, and you groan in response.

Two sets of hands land on you, one on your legs and the other on your shoulders. A familiar palm presses against the side of your neck in a desperate search for your pulse.

You cough as your eyes open, your chest tight and burning. Above you, Tim’s shoulders drop in relief, and he shifts to sit flat beside you.

“Don’t ever shove me out of the way like that again,” Street demands, pushing your legs and then looking at your face to ensure you’re okay.

Tim’s expression shifts from concern to something like disappointment. He removes his hand from you as Deacon calls for a medic.

“I’m okay,” you assure as you fail to sit up.

Your team smiles in collective relief, but you can’t crack a joke before Tim’s mood shifts again. This time to anger.

“What is it about this job that makes you so willing to treat each day like it’s the last day to live?” he demands, standing as his chest heaves.

“Tim, I-“

“No!” he snaps. “You put yourself in danger constantly. I understand that this job isn’t easy, that there are risks, but you don’t care. You rush toward moments like this, move into the line of fire on purpose knowing that people care about you! I need you to come home!”

“I’m trying to get everyone home,” you defend weakly, looking up at him as you clutch your side.

“By sacrificing yourself?” he yells.

You look at Street, who is still sitting beside you, then at the rest of your team. They neither argue nor agree with him.

“I didn’t think I’d have to spell this out for you,” Tim continues loudly. “But I hate when you do this. I’m sick of expecting a call telling me you aren’t coming back.”

“It scares me too,” you point out. “Of course I want to come home to you.”

“You don’t act like it!”

Tim looks away from you, his mind racing. “You could have died not knowing how much you mean to me - how much I love you! I can’t go home alone and see my sock drawer, why can’t you understand that?” He doesn’t mean to mention the drawer where the velvet ring box is hidden, but he’s scared and angry and wishes you understood why it kills him to see you rush into danger as you do.

“Tim,” you call softly.

He looks at you, slumped in the grass with your hand pressed to your side and your teammate unharmed beside you.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, pushing your hands against the ground as you fold one leg beneath yourself.

“Stop,” he murmurs, moving to kneel beside you. “The medic’s here. Just- just wait.”

You nod and apologize again as he lays his hand over yours.

“I’m really sorry,” you apologize, resting on Tim’s couch with Kojo’s head in your lap. “I get where you were coming from earlier. I want to come back to you, always. But they’re my family, and I want to keep them safe, too. Losing them scares me.”

“I get it,” Tim assures, rubbing circles on your shoulder where his hand rests, far from the painful, darkening bruise against your ribs. “Could you - maybe, from now on - try to think a little more about the outcome before you act?”

“I promise,” you agree before you kiss Tim’s hand. “I guess I could have just body slammed Street into the dirt and we both would’ve been okay.”

“See? Much better plan.”

“You just want me to mess with Street.”

“Maybe.”

Tim smiles and pulls you closer carefully, glad to have you home and on the mend. You weren’t gravely injured, but he didn’t know, and that was worse, he thinks.

“Hey, why’d you mention your sock drawer earlier?” you ask. “Afraid you’ll have to do your own laundry again if I’m gone?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

You purse your lips and wait for his attention to ask, “What does that mean?”

Tim kisses you rather than answering, knowing your promise is meant. You’ll always return to him, even if you have to crawl.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford oneshot #the rookie x reader #tim bradford fluff #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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kaiyunsim · 4 months ago

Text

just a boy —

pairing : fuckboy!jay x gn!reader

summary : you meet jay at a party where you reject him after making a move… he likes it when they play hard to get.

warnings : angst, fluff, more angst than fluff tbh, uni au, reader is a freshman, jay is older, featuring heeseung + jake, jisung from nct, and minju from illit

a/n : omg fun to write is actually an understatement. i hope it turned out fun to read :) also for my pookie @writhyv

queueing : just a boy - alaina castillo,

— wc : 6.6 — not proof read —

you don't really care about parties. they're loud, crowded, and always filled with people trying too hard. but minju drags you along anyway, insisting that you need to "experience the university nightlife" at least once.

"come on, it'll be fun," she says, looping her arm through yours. "plus, jisung bailed on me, and i am not third-wheeling jake and his situationship all night."

so now you're here, standing awkwardly in the corner of a frat house, gripping a red solo cup filled with something that smells suspiciously like gasoline. minju is already off somewhere, talking to a girl from her english class, and you're left to watch as people dance, drink, and make questionable decisions.

"you look miserable," a voice says from beside you.

you turn and come face to face with park jongseong, jay, as everyone calls him. you know his name, even if you've never spoken before. he's older, popular, and has a reputation that follows him everywhere he goes.

flirt. player. fuckboy.

minju has warned you about him. "he's hot, yeah, but he's the kind of guy who doesn't do relationships. he flirts, hooks up, and moves on. trust me, i've seen it happen."

but none of that matters, because you have no plans to entertain him.

jay grins at you, leaning against the wall like he owns the place. he's got that easy confidence, the kind that comes with knowing he's attractive and that people want him.

"not a fan of parties?" he asks, tilting his head.

you shrug. "not really."

he chuckles. "then why are you here?"

"minju."

his eyebrows raise slightly. "you know minju?"

"from high school." you say, keeping your answers short.

"interesting," he muses, eyes scanning your face like he's trying to place you somewhere in his memory. he doesn't seem to recognize you, though, which isn't surprising. you've never exactly run in the same circles.

"so," he says, shifting closer. "wanna dance?"

it's not a question, not really. it's the kind of offer people don't usually refuse, not when it comes from him. jay park doesn't get turned down.

but you just blink at him and say, "no, thanks."

his smile falters, just for a second, before he recovers. "really? you sure? i promise i'm a good dancer."

"i'm sure." you say with a fake smile, giving off the vibe that you’re annoyed

he lets out a soft laugh, like he can't believe you're actually rejecting him. his ego must be bruised, but he hides it well, still looking at you with interest.

"alright," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "then how about a drink? i can get you something better than… whatever that is." he nods at your cup.

"i'm good."

"wow," he murmurs, shaking his head in amusement. "you're really not making this easy for me, huh?"

"should i?"

he grins, running a hand through his dark hair. "most people do."

"well, i'm not most people."

jay studies you for a moment, like he's trying to figure out why you're different. why you're not reacting the way everyone else does. you don't bat your lashes at him, don't giggle or play into his flirting. and for some reason, instead of turning him away, it only seems to intrigue him more.

"i like you," he says suddenly.

you roll your eyes. "you don't even know me."

"not yet," he agrees, "but i’d like to."

there's something almost playful in his voice, but you know better. jay isn’t interested in getting to know people. he's interested in chasing, in winning. and right now, you’re just another game to him.

"keep liking me from a distance," you say, brushing past him.

you don’t look back, but you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

for the first time in his life, park jongseong has been rejected. and somehow, you think that only makes him more determined.

—

you don't think much about your encounter with jay. to you, it was just another conversation at a party, one you barely wanted to be at in the first place.

but apparently, jay thinks otherwise.

it starts with small things.

you see him at the campus café, where he just so happens to show up right behind you in line.

"oh, hey," he says casually, as if running into you is pure coincidence.

you glance at him, unimpressed. "hey."

"what are you getting?"

you turn back to the menu. "haven't decided."

"let me guess," he hums, tapping a finger against his chin like he's solving some great mystery. "you seem like a caramel macchiato kind of person."

you raise a brow. "what does that even mean?"

jay grins, leaning in slightly. "sweet, but a little bitter if you get on their bad side."

"so basically, you're guessing."

"i call it an educated guess," he says, nodding at the cashier. "get one. my treat."

"no, thanks."

he lets out a dramatic sigh. "you really don't like accepting things from me, huh?"

"nope."

instead of looking discouraged, jay just watches as you place your order, an iced americano, completely different from what he guessed.

he chuckles. "so i was way off."

"yup."

you take your drink and leave without another word. jay doesn’t follow, but you swear you feel his stare on your back as you walk away.

it keeps happening.

and then, one afternoon, you’re sitting under a tree, trying to get through an assignment, when someone drops into the grass beside you.

"you always look so serious," jay muses.

you don’t even glance up. "because i'm trying to focus."

"right, right." he leans back on his hands. "but don't you ever take a break?"

"nope."

"come on," he nudges your knee with his. "five minutes won't kill you."

you sigh, finally looking at him. "do you need something?"

jay flashes you that same easy grin, the one that probably gets him whatever he wants. "just your company."

"i think you’ll survive without it."

he clutches his chest dramatically. "ouch. you wound me."

"you’ll live."

jay just laughs, shaking his head. "you know, you’re making this really difficult."

"making what difficult?"

"getting to know you."

"who said i wanted you to?"

he stares at you for a moment, eyes glinting with something unreadable. then, instead of answering, he stands up and dusts himself off.

"alright," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "guess i’ll try again tomorrow."

before you can process his words, he's already walking away.

"okay, what is going on?" minju asks a few days later, sliding into the seat across from you in the dining hall.

"what do you mean?"

she gestures dramatically. "you and jay. he keeps staring at you. he keeps showing up wherever you are."

"it's just a coincidence."

"coincidence my ass," she huffs. "he’s interested."

"interested in what? flirting with someone who doesn’t want to flirt back?"

"exactly!" minju exclaims. "he's never been rejected before! you’re like. like. his first loss."

"not a loss," you correct. "just… not a win."

"same thing in his mind." she leans in, eyes narrowing. "be honest. do you like him?"

you snort. "no."

"not even a little?"

"minju, he flirts with anything that breathes."

"true," she concedes, stabbing a piece of her salad. "but he’s never tried this hard before."

you roll your eyes. "and that’s exactly why i’m not interested. he only wants what he can’t have."

"so you think if you gave in, he’d lose interest?"

"obviously. but it’s not like i want him to be interested in the first place,”

but what you don’t see is jay, sitting at another table with jake and heeseung, watching you from across the room.

"so," heeseung says, "still trying?"

jay sips his drink, not looking away. "yup."

jake shakes his head, laughing. "dude, you're obsessed."

"i'm not obsessed," jay scoffs. "i'm just… interested."

heeseung raises a brow. "in what? winning?"

jay pauses. that should be the answer. that’s how it always is. he flirts, he wins, he moves on. but this time, it feels different.

"i dunno," he mutters, eyes still locked on you. "but i wanna find out."

and just like that, park jongseong makes it his mission to make you fall for him.

whether you want to or not.

—

you’re starting to think the universe has a cruel sense of humor.

there’s no other explanation for why jay park keeps showing up everywhere you go.

first, it’s the café… again. you stop by for your usual iced americano, and there he is, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. when he sees you, his lips curl into a smirk.

"you stalking me now?" he teases.

you blink at him. "this is literally my usual spot."

"yeah?" he muses, stepping aside so you can order. "funny. seems like it’s mine now too."

you ignore him and pay for your drink, but as you turn to leave, he suddenly holds out a muffin. "here."

you frown. "what is this?"

"peace offering," he says. "for annoying you so much."

"i don't want it."

jay tuts, shaking his head. "harsh. you don’t like sweets?"

"i don’t like you."

he laughs, completely unbothered. "that’s not true. you just won’t admit you think i’m funny."

you roll your eyes and walk past him, but not before he calls out, "see you around!"

unfortunately, he’s right.

the second time, it’s the library.

you’re sitting at a table, halfway through an essay, when someone slides into the seat across from you.

you don’t need to look up. "seriously?"

jay rests his chin on his palm, grinning. "seriously."

"do you even study?"

"i do now." he gestures to his laptop, which, sure enough, is open.

you sigh and turn back to your work, ignoring him completely. for the first ten minutes, he’s quiet, and you start to think maybe—just maybe—he’s actually here to study.

but then he leans forward. "you always this focused?"

"yes."

"cute," he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

you finally look at him, unimpressed. "why are you here?"

"what, a guy can’t expand his knowledge?"

"you haven’t typed a single word."

jay glances at his screen, where his essay is blank. he shrugs. "i’m thinking."

"about what?"

"about how long it’s gonna take for you to admit you like having me around."

you let out a slow breath, standing up and gathering your things. "good luck with that."

"where you going?"

"somewhere quiet."

jay watches you leave, the smirk never leaving his face.

you think that’s the end of it.

until your professor assigns a group project.

"you’ll be working in pairs," she says. "check the list for your partner."

you scan the names, looking for yours, and freeze.

park jongseong.

"you’ve got to be kidding me," you mutter.

"what?" minju asks, peering over your shoulder. then she snorts. "oh. wow. the universe really has it out for you."

you groan, dropping your head onto the desk.

"who’d you get?"

you glance up to see jisung standing beside you, holding his own paper.

"jay," minju answers for you.

jisung grimaces. "yikes."

"yep."

before you can say anything else, someone taps your shoulder.

"guess we’re partners," jay says, voice far too amused.

you sigh. "don’t remind me.”

—

working with jay is… not as painful as you expected.

you still don’t like him. obviously. but he’s not completely useless.

turns out, he’s actually smart. and organized. he doesn’t slack off or make you do all the work. and—annoyingly—he’s kind of funny.

you realize this when you’re both at the library, bouncing ideas off each other.

"okay, so we could go with this topic," you say, scrolling through the research.

jay hums. "or we could pick something that won’t make me want to throw myself off a building."

you bite back a smile. "dramatic much?"

"you’re underestimating my ability to get bored."

"i think that’s just your problem."

jay gasps, placing a hand over his chest. "ouch. i thought we were bonding."

"we’re working."

"same thing."

you shake your head, but you don’t argue.

slowly, things shift.

you still tell yourself that jay is just playing a game. but sometimes, you catch him looking at you—really looking—and for a moment, it doesn’t feel like one.

like when you’re at the library, and you yawn without thinking.

"tired?" he asks.

"obviously."

without a word, he slides his drink toward you.

you blink. "what—"

"it’s an americano," he says simply.

you hesitate, then take a sip. "it’s sweet."

jay shrugs. "i like sugar."

you give him a look. "so you were way off when you guessed my order last time."

he grins. "guess so."

you shake your head, but you don’t push the drink back.

—

"okay, so he’s not the worst person alive," you admit later.

minju stares at you. "who are you and what have you done with my friend?"

"i’m serious," you say. "he’s… fine. actually kind of helpful."

minju sighs. "that’s how it starts."

"how what starts?"

"you start thinking he’s not that bad. then, before you know it, you’re catching feelings."

"i’m not catching anything."

she gives you a look. "just be careful, okay? he’s only this persistent because you’re the first person to say no."

you nod, but her words stick in your head.

you tell yourself you don’t care.

but then one night, you’re leaving the library, and jay is waiting outside.

"walking alone at this hour?" he muses. "dangerous."

you raise an eyebrow. "and you’re what? my bodyguard?"

jay smirks. "i could be."

"no thanks."

"still," he says, falling into step beside you. "i’ll walk you back."

"you don’t have to."

"i know."

you sigh, but you let him.

the walk is quiet, save for the sound of your footsteps. when you reach your building, you stop.

"this is me," you say.

jay nods. "guess i’ll see you tomorrow."

"guess so."

he hesitates, then lifts a hand, ruffling your hair before you can react.

you blink. "what the—"

he just grins. "goodnight."

then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, heart doing something it definitely shouldn’t be doing.

this is bad.

really bad.

—

the next party is loud, too loud. music shakes the floor, conversations overlap, and the air is thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. you don’t even know why you’re here.

well. you do.

minju dragged you out, saying you’ve been too cooped up with schoolwork and your stupid group project (which, unfortunately, includes jay park). jisung backed her up, insisting you needed to “socialize like a normal human being.”

so now you’re here, standing in the corner of someone’s crowded apartment, gripping a half-empty cup of soda because you don’t drink, and pretending you’re interested in whatever minju is talking about.

until you see him.

jay.

you tell yourself you shouldn’t be surprised. parties are his thing, after all. loud music, dim lighting, a sea of people who’d fall into his arms without hesitation.

he fits right in.

too well.

you spot him across the room, leaning against the wall, that lazy smirk on his lips. there’s a girl beside him, standing too close, laughing at something he just said. she tilts her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. jay doesn’t move away.

he says something else, something that makes her giggle, and then he leans in,,, just a little.

your stomach twists.

it’s stupid. so, so stupid.

this is what he does. this is who he is. he flirts with everyone. you’ve seen it before. you knew this about him before he even knew your name.

but tonight, it bothers you.

you don’t know why, and you don’t want to think about it.

"you okay?" minju asks, nudging your arm.

"yeah," you say too quickly. "just… tired."

she eyes you but doesn’t press. "wanna leave soon?"

you nod. "yeah."

but before you can say anything else, you feel a presence beside you.

"hey," a familiar voice says.

you turn, and there he is.

jay.

his smirk is gone.

"what do you want?" you ask, not in the mood for whatever game he’s playing tonight.

he hesitates, glancing at minju, then back at you. "can we talk?"

"no."

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "please?"

minju looks between the two of you, then slowly backs away. "i’ll be over there," she says, pointing to jisung.

you cross your arms. "what?"

jay doesn’t answer right away. instead, he exhales, then jerks his head toward the door. "outside?"

you should say no. you should walk away. but there’s something in his eyes, something that makes your chest feel too tight, so you follow him out.

the cool night air is a relief against your heated skin. outside, the noise is muffled, distant, like the party belongs to a different world.

you stop a few steps away from the door, crossing your arms. "well?"

jay shoves his hands into his pockets. "you looked upset."

you scoff. "why do you care?"

"because," he says, stepping closer, "i do."

you laugh, but it’s humorless. "you flirt with someone else, then come running after me? what is this, jay?"

his jaw tightens. "it’s not like that."

"really? because it sure as hell looked like it."

"you think i do this with everyone?" his voice is sharper now, frustration leaking through. "yeah, i flirt, but this,whatever this is, is different, and you know it."

your breath catches.

different.

he said it first.

but that doesn’t change anything.

"do i?" you challenge. "because it looks exactly the same to me."

jay groans, running a hand through his hair. "i didn’t even realize what i was doing."

"that’s not making this better."

"i know!" he snaps. "i just—fuck."

he exhales, tilting his head back like he’s trying to find the right words in the sky. then, softer, he says, "it’s a habit, okay? flirting, keeping things surface-level. that’s just how i’ve always been."

you swallow, suddenly unsure. "then why are you here?"

jay takes another step forward, close enough that you can see the tension in his shoulders, the crease in his brows.

"because i don’t want this to be surface-level," he admits. "not with you."

the words knock the air out of your lungs.

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then you say, "so what? you want me to believe that you’re suddenly different?"

"i don’t know," he admits. "but i know i don’t want to fuck this up."

you stare at him, at the raw honesty in his expression.

this is dangerous territory.

you should walk away.

you don’t.

but then you think about that girl inside, the way he leaned in so easily, the way it took him this long to come after you.

"you say that," you murmur, voice quieter now, "but you still went back to your usual thing the second i wasn’t around."

jay flinches.

"it didn’t mean anything," he says, quickly, desperately. "i wasn’t even thinking about her."

"exactly," you say bitterly. "you weren’t thinking at all."

jay opens his mouth, then closes it.

"you don’t even realize what you’re doing," you continue, voice tight. "you don’t realize how easily you slip into old habits. you say this is different, but are you sure?"

"yes," jay says, without hesitation.

you laugh, but it’s broken. "then why do i feel like i’m just setting myself up to get hurt?"

he doesn’t have an answer for that.

silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating.

jay looks like he wants to say something, to fix this somehow, but what is there to fix? he’s still the same jay park who flirts with everyone, who doesn’t think before he acts, who only realizes too late that he might actually care.

"you’re not ready for this," you whisper.

"i am," he insists, but there’s something fragile in his voice, something that tells you even he isn’t sure if he’s telling the truth.

you shake your head. "i don’t think you are."

jay reaches out, just a little, like he wants to touch you, like he wants you to stay.

but you step back.

his hand drops.

and with that, you turn around and walk away.

jay doesn’t call after you.

he doesn’t chase you this time.

and maybe that tells you everything you need to know.

—

you avoid him.

it’s not hard at first. you’re in different years, different circles. you stop going to the café where you know he likes to hang out between classes, ignore the parties minju tries to drag you to, and duck your head whenever you spot him on campus.

the only problem is that jay notices.

you’re not sure when it happens, but at some point, jay park—fuckboy, campus heartbreaker, the guy who shouldn’t care—is suddenly watching you.

you feel it in the way his eyes linger too long when you pass by in the hallway, in the way his conversations falter when you’re around, in the way his whole demeanor shifts whenever you deliberately turn away.

he doesn’t chase after you.

but he’s not ignoring it, either.

and that’s what makes it worse.

it would be easier if he didn’t care, if he went right back to flirting with someone else like nothing ever happened. but he doesn’t.

and that terrifies you.

so you run faster.

"okay, what is wrong with you?"

jay exhales sharply, gripping the pool cue tighter. "nothing."

"bullshit."

heeseung snatches the stick out of his hands before he can even attempt a shot. jay scowls, reaching for it, but heeseung just leans away.

"bro, you’ve been in the worst mood for, like, a week," jake says, spinning an unmarked beer bottle between his fingers. "just admit it."

jay glares. "admit what?"

heeseung rolls his eyes. "that you’re being a little bitch about this whole thing."

jay scoffs. "about what?"

"oh my god," jake groans. "are you in denial, or just stupid?"

jay clenches his jaw. "neither."

heeseung and jake share a look, and jay hates that they’re silently communicating in that annoying, knowing way that only best friends do.

"listen," heeseung starts, "you don’t do feelings. we get it. but this? whatever’s happening between you and—"

"don’t say their name," jay mutters, looking away.

heeseung smirks. "oh, so you do care?"

jay exhales, tilting his head back against the worn leather of the booth.

fuck.

he doesn’t know what this is.

he just knows that it sucks.

he didn’t think avoiding them would be a big deal. people walk away from him all the time, sometimes before he can even do it first.

but this?

this feels different.

it feels like something is missing. like something is slipping through his fingers and he’s too fucking slow to catch it.

"you don’t even like people," jake points out.

jay sighs. "i like you guys."

"yeah, but we don’t count," heeseung snorts. "we’re basically required to deal with your bullshit."

jay scoffs, shoving his shoulder, but heeseung just grins.

then, quieter, he says, "this is the first time you’ve actually looked miserable over someone."

jay doesn’t answer.

"so what are you gonna do about it?" jake asks.

jay exhales, drumming his fingers against the table.

he doesn’t know.

but he knows he can’t keep pretending this is nothing.

not anymore.

—

you don’t know why you look.

it’s just a normal afternoon. you’re heading toward the library, minju walking beside you, talking about something jisung said earlier.

and then you see him.

jay is standing near the campus courtyard, golden light catching the sharp edges of his jawline. he’s not alone.

there’s a girl with him. she’s standing close—too close. her hand is on his arm, fingers curling lightly around the sleeve of his jacket. she laughs at something he says, head tilting, eyes locked on his.

and jay?

jay just smiles.

it’s the same smile you’ve seen before, the same effortless charm, the same easy confidence that has made him a campus legend. he leans in slightly, talking low, his posture relaxed like he’s done this a thousand times.

because he has.

your chest tightens.

"hey, you okay?" minju asks beside you, nudging your arm.

you snap your gaze away, pulse quickening. you shouldn’t care. you knew what he was like before you even met him. you knew he flirted with anyone he found attractive, that he never had to try, that he never faced rejection.

you knew he was never meant to be serious.

so why does it feel like something inside you is caving in?

"yeah," you mumble. "just remembered something i have to do."

minju frowns, but you don’t give her a chance to question it. before she can say anything, you turn and walk the other way, ignoring the burning feeling in your chest.

you don’t look back.

and jay doesn’t notice you leaving.

yet, jay can tell something’s wrong.

he doesn’t know what it is, but he can feel it.

it’s in the way you won’t look at him, the way you walk past him like he’s just another face in the crowd.

at first, he thinks he’s imagining it. you were never friends to begin with—maybe you were just busy, maybe this is normal.

but the shift is undeniable.

before, you’d at least acknowledge him. you’d give him a polite nod, a passing glance, sometimes even a subtle eyeroll when you caught him flirting.

now?

nothing.

he sees you on campus, and you don’t even flinch.

he walks past your usual café, and you’re not there.

he catches you in the library and for a second. just a second. he swears you meet his gaze.

but then you turn away.

like he’s not even there.

he doesn’t plan to confront you.

but after a week of this, of whatever this is, he finds himself standing outside your dorm, hands shoved in his pockets, frustration bubbling under his skin.

he doesn’t even know why he’s here.

it’s not like you owe him anything.

but still, he knocks.

no answer.

he exhales sharply, rocking back on his heels, debating whether to try again.

then, he hears footsteps.

"what are you doing here?"

jay turns, finding jisung standing a few feet away, arms crossed.

"looking for y/n," jay says. "they’ve been… acting weird."

jisung raises an eyebrow. "and you just noticed?"

jay frowns. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

jisung exhales, shaking his head. "they saw you," he says simply.

jay’s stomach tightens. "...what?"

"the other day. in the courtyard. with that girl."

jay blinks, the memory slotting into place. shit.

"they saw you smiling at her," jisung continues, his voice even but firm. "letting her touch you. looking at her the way they thought—" he stops himself, sighing. "never mind."

jay’s pulse kicks up. "you think they—"

"they think they were stupid for believing you might actually be different with them," jisung cuts in, sharper now. "they think they almost fell for the same bullshit you pull on everyone else."

jay clenches his jaw.

fuck.

he wasn’t thinking. he didn’t even realize.

but now, remembering the moment, the way the girl had laughed, the way she had leaned in, the way he hadn’t pulled away—

he understands.

and it feels like he just lost something important without even knowing he had it.

"if you’re gonna say something, make it worth their time," jisung says. "because right now? they don’t want anything to do with you."

jay doesn’t answer.

because for the first time in his life, he’s the one who got it wrong.

he’s the one who let something real slip through his fingers.

and he has no idea how to fix it.

but he knows one thing—

he has to try.

—

you don’t expect him to be waiting for you.

it’s late. you just finished a study session with minju, and all you want is to go back to your dorm, crawl under the covers, and forget about everything—forget about him.

but as soon as you step into the dimly lit hallway leading to your room, you see him.

jay.

leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, eyes dark with something unreadable.

your heart stutters.

you hesitate, debating whether to turn around, pretend you didn’t see him. but then he looks up—really looks at you—and you know there’s no escape.

"we need to talk," he says, pushing off the wall.

fuck jisung for letting him in.

"i don’t think we do," you mutter, stepping past him, reaching for your door.

but before you can, jay moves, his hand catching your wrist—gently, cautiously, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

"please," he says.

you freeze.

he’s never said please before. at least, not like this. not as desperate as this.

slowly, you turn to face him, sighing. "jay—"

"just let me say this," he cuts in, eyes burning with something raw, something you’ve never seen on him before. desperation.

you press your lips together but nod.

jay exhales, running a hand through his hair. "i—fuck, i don’t know how to do this," he mutters, shaking his head. "i’m not good at this."

"then don’t," you say, voice sharper than you intended. "don’t stand here and feed me some excuse about how you 'don’t do relationships' or 'didn’t mean to hurt me.' i don’t want to hear it."

jay flinches. "that’s not what i was gonna say."

you cross your arms. "then what?"

he swallows hard, eyes flickering to the floor before meeting yours again. "i—i don’t know how to do this, because i’ve never felt like this before."

your breath catches.

"i didn’t even realize what i was doing," jay continues, voice quieter now. "i didn’t think. i’ve never had to. flirting, messing around—it’s just… easy. but you—" he exhales sharply. "you make things different."

you shake your head. "jay—"

"i don’t want anyone else," he interrupts, stepping closer, voice steady. "just you."

your chest tightens.

"and when you get bored?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. "when someone new comes along?"

jay shakes his head immediately. "i don’t think i could ever get bored of you."

it’s too much.

too much to believe, too much to trust, too much to risk.

"how am i supposed to believe that?" you ask, eyes searching his face. "how am i supposed to believe you won’t wake up one day and decide i was just another name on your list?"

jay exhales, stepping even closer, until there’s barely any space between you. "because no one’s ever made me feel like this before."

your pulse is loud in your ears.

"i don’t know how to do relationships," he admits, voice low, honest. "i don’t know how to be what you deserve. but i want to try. i want to figure it out—with you."

he’s so close now. close enough that you can smell the faint scent of his cologne, close enough that you can see the hesitation in his eyes, the fear of being rejected, of losing you.

you shouldn’t.

you should walk away.

you should protect yourself, guard your heart, not fall for the one person who could break you the easiest.

but then jay reaches up, fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch hesitant, almost trembling.

"please," he murmurs, his voice almost breaking.

jay park—unshakable, confident, the fuckboy—is breaking in front of you.

and against all logic, all reason—you fall.

before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you close the space between you.

his breath catches, just for a second, before his lips press against yours, warm and desperate.

jay kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, like he’s trying to prove every word he just said. his hands cup your face, pulling you closer, holding you like you’re something fragile—something precious.

and when you kiss him back, letting yourself believe—just for this moment—that maybe, just maybe, this could be real, he sighs against your lips, like he’s just found something he’s been searching for all along.

—

your relationship with jay park is different.

you knew it wouldn’t be easy, falling for someone who never had to try, who never had to work for love. but you never expected this.

never expected him to try so hard.

at first, it’s awkward. jay doesn’t know what he’s doing. he’s used to effortless flirting, meaningless hookups, relationships that start and end in the span of a night.

but with you?

he wants to be better. he wants to be different.

so he does things he’s never done before.

he waits for you after class, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, eyes lighting up when he sees you.

"did you eat?" he asks one day, falling into step beside you.

you blink. "uh… yeah?"

jay nods, looking relieved. "okay. cool. just—yeah. cool."

he’s awkward. jay park, campus fuckboy, the smooth talker who never falters, is awkward.

you bite back a smile. "did you eat?"

he hesitates.

you raise an eyebrow. "jay."

he clears his throat. "…no."

you sigh, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him toward the campus café. he lets you, grinning like you just gave him the world.

the first time he reaches for your hand, it’s so casual that you almost miss it.

you’re sitting next to each other, watching a movie in the dorm common room. your hand rests between you, fingers brushing against his.

then, slowly, hesitantly, jay links his pinky with yours.

your heart stutters.

you glance at him, but he’s staring straight at the screen, his jaw tight, his ears slightly red.

you bite your lip.

then, without a word, you let your fingers slip fully into his.

jay stiffens for half a second. then, his grip tightens, and he exhales, shoulders relaxing.

he doesn’t let go for the rest of the movie.

he’s not used to jealousy.

or rather, he’s not used to his own jealousy.

he’s seen people get possessive over him before, watched girls glare when he flirted with someone new, felt the heat of their disappointment when they realized he wasn’t theirs.

but now?

now he understands.

he understands because he’s standing in the middle of campus, watching some guy—some random guy—smile at you like he has a chance.

and jay hates it.

he crosses the distance before he can think, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

"hey, baby," he murmurs, voice low, casual, possessive.

your eyes widen. "jay?"

"who’s this?" jay asks, looking at the guy.

the guy blinks, glancing between the two of you. "uh, just—just a classmate."

jay smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "cool. yeah. we gotta go, though."

you barely have time to say goodbye before jay is leading you away, his grip firm but gentle.

once you’re out of earshot, you elbow him. "what was that?"

jay shrugs. "didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

you roll your eyes. "you can’t just—"

he stops walking, turning to face you, eyes serious. "i know i don’t have the right," he admits. "but i don’t like it. i don’t like the idea of someone else thinking they can have you."

your breath catches.

"you’re mine," jay says, voice softer now. "right?"

you stare at him for a moment.

then, finally, you sigh, reaching up to flick his forehead.

"yeah," you mutter. "i’m yours."

jay grins, rubbing his forehead. "damn right."

heeseung and jake pretend to be disgusted.

"you’re whipped," jake says, shaking his head.

"nah, man, this is worse than we thought," heeseung adds. "he’s holding hands in public."

jay glares at them from across the table, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

"you guys are just mad i have a functional love life," he says.

jake snorts. "yeah, sure. functional."

"bet he calls them ‘baby’ over text," heeseung whispers loudly.

jake gasps. "you think he—"

"shut up," jay groans.

you’re trying not to laugh. "do you?"

jay glares at you, but his ears are red. "i hate you."

you grin. "you love me."

jay rolls his eyes.

but then, under the table, he gives your hand a squeeze.

and you know—

even if he’ll never admit it out loud—

he really does.

—

you constantly look back and don’t know when you started believing him.

maybe it was the first time he held your hand without thinking, his fingers curling around yours so naturally, like he didn’t need to pretend anymore.

or maybe it was when he let you steal his hoodie, even though you were sure he’d never let anyone do that before.

or maybe—just maybe—it was when you saw the way he looked at you.

because it’s different now.

jay park, the guy who used to flirt with anyone just for fun, the guy who never stuck around, only looks at you.

"okay, but seriously," jake says, pointing a fry at jay. "how the hell did this happen?"

you’re sitting in the corner booth of a diner near campus, squeezed between jay and the wall. heeseung and jake are across from you, both staring like you’re some kind of unsolvable mystery.

jay takes a slow sip of his drink. "what do you mean?"

"you!" heeseung gestures wildly. "relationship jay. committed jay. ‘not flirting with every breathing human’ jay."

"it’s called growth," jay deadpans.

"it’s called ‘i fell first, and i fell hard,’" jake teases, smirking.

jay huffs. "whatever, man."

but he doesn’t deny it.

heeseung leans forward, grinning. "okay, but who confessed first?"

jay opens his mouth—

"me, obviously," you interrupt.

jay’s head snaps toward you. "what?"

you shrug. "you’re a coward. took you forever to admit you liked me."

jake laughs. "ohhh, he got you there."

jay glares at you, but you just smile, nudging his foot under the table.

you laugh, “joking, it’s complicated.”

heeseung rests his chin in his palm. "man, i never thought i’d see the day."

"what day?" you ask, amused.

"the day jay park became a simp."

jay groans, burying his face in his hands. "i hate all of you."

you pat his arm. "no, you don’t."

he exhales, tilting his head to look at you. his eyes soften.

"yeah," he murmurs. "i don’t."

—

later that night, after jay walks you back to your dorm, you linger outside the door.

he doesn’t leave right away.

instead, he leans against the wall, hands in his pockets, just looking at you.

you tilt your head. "what?"

jay hesitates, then exhales sharply.

"it’s weird," he mutters. "this whole time, i thought i had everything figured out. i thought i knew what i wanted. but then you came along, and suddenly, nothing made sense anymore."

your chest tightens.

"i didn’t get it at first," jay continues, eyes flickering to the ground. "why i got so annoyed when you ignored me. why i kept looking for you in every room. why i couldn’t flirt with anyone else without feeling like it was wrong."

he finally meets your gaze.

"but now i do."

your fingers tighten around the door handle, heartbeat loud in your ears.

"i don’t want to be the guy i was before," he murmurs. "not with you."

you swallow. "jay—"

"i know i’m not good at this," he cuts in. "i know i’m gonna mess up. i know i don’t deserve you."

his voice drops lower, almost hesitant. almost afraid.

"but i want to try. and i want you to let me."

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then, finally—

you sigh, shaking your head. "god, you’re such an idiot."

jay blinks. "huh?"

you step forward, grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him down until your foreheads touch.

"you’ve had me this whole time," you murmur.

jay’s breath stutters.

then, slowly—hesitantly—his arms wrap around you, holding you against him, warm and real.

"yeah?" he whispers.

you nod. "yeah."

jay exhales a shaky laugh, squeezing you tighter.

"thank god," he mutters. "i don’t think i could’ve handled losing you."

you smile against his shoulder.

neither could you.

726 notes · View notes

rafeslittlepup · 29 days ago

Note

How did sexist!rafe and reader meet?

AHHHH i love this ask because i have a whole timeline for them in my head!! <33

rafe and !reader have known each other since reader was 4-5 and rafe 7-8, both of their families are very wealthy and move in the same figure eight circles. think yacht club barbecues, charity events, garden parties. reader adores rafe from the moment she sees him. little reader in her smocked dresses and tiny sandals chasing him around at family barbecues like "wafe! wafe!” with sticky fingers and a cupcake in hand :( rafe thinks she’s annoying but in the way boys his age think. there’s a running joke at parties, “careful rafe, she’s gonna marry you one day!”

when rafe turns 15-16 and reader is 11-13, they drift apart a bit. rafe’s getting into teen boy stuff (starting to become a menace) while she’s still just a tiny pink bow with no clue. at family events, he starts getting weirdly protective over her for no reason??? but she’s still obsessed with ponies and hello kitty.

rafe aged 18-20 is fully spiraling into drugs, anger issues territory… meanwhile reader aged 15-17 is growing up into the exact kind of girl rafe cannot handle seeing other guys look at. pink skirts, lip gloss, always batting her lashes.

she’s at the yacht club pool parties now, wearing those frilly bikinis, and rafe is noticing. in a way that makes him feel sick and furious and possessive all at once. he starts lurking around her at events again. calling her "kid" even though she's literally only a few years younger.

and it all happens messy and fast. after some party, she's drunk and lost her friends, and rafe finds her. he drives her home, lecturing her about "trusting the wrong people" and how "nobody would take care of her like he would."

and somewhere in that heated, possessive rant, he kisses her. she’s dizzy and flustered but she wants it so bad she almost cries…

months later, she is fully “his girl”. he picks out her outfits. she rides around the island in his truck with his hand permanently resting on her thigh. he is obsessed with molding her into the perfect little doll, matcha mornings, pilates, diamonds and not a single thought in her brain. they’re basically engaged without ever talking about it.

last year of college, when rafe’s bored of playing house, he fully leans into the "start a family now" arc… tells her it's time to "make it permanent." soooo… wife era, she’s 20-21 but couldn’t be more happy with his mean awful sexy husband

#𝜗𝜚 anons #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x female reader #sexist!rafe

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mugglebornmarvelite · 5 months ago

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Christmas Chaos

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: Your first Christmas with the team is one for the books. The excitement of unwrapping gifts turns into delightful chaos.

Word Count: Roughly 1.1k

Warnings: Fluff, Mild Violence (threats and roughhousing), Christmas themes, Bucky's red henley (totally deserves it's own warning)

Author’s Note: According to TikTik, tons of people didn't get what they wanted for Christmas; so here’s a little something I whipped up because I’ve been awake since 5 this morning and I have had three cups of coffee. I typed this on my phone, so if there are errors, I apologize. If you like this, you’re welcome and if you don’t, it wasn’t me :)

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

You wake up to muffled noises from downstairs. You bury your face in your pillow, before looking at your phone for the time. It is too early to be up on any regular day, but today was different. It's Christmas day! Christmas day with your favorite people. You slipped on your fluffy slippers and quietly padded downstairs, rubbing your eyes and yawning softly.

“Merry Christmas!” you chirped to the team.

Natasha smiled and raised her mug of coffee.

Wanda smiled and handed you a cup of hot chocolate.

Tony was busy arguing with Bruce over an instruction manual, and Steve and Sam argued over who had better gift-wrapping critiques. But as you scanned the room, you noticed. Bucky wasn’t there.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked with a small frown.

“He’s upstairs,” Sam said casually. “Brooding, probably.”

“I can go get him…” You offered, only to be cut off.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Steve gave you a small grin, ruffling your hair. “Trust us.”

Wanda passed you your stocking, filled with goodies. The works of small trinkets, candy and chocolate coins.

You grinned as you and Peter dove into the chocolates.

Tony already started complaining about the sugar rush you both would get.

Then, Steve pointed to a large, festively wrapped box.

“This one’s for you, kid.”

Your eyes widened. The box was massive, and you crouched down to peel the wrapping paper off.

“What in the world?” you murmured, pulling off layer after layer. With a puzzled look, you pried it open.

“Bucky?!”

The former Winter Soldier was sitting cross-legged in the box, arms tied with rope, a gag around his mouth, and a pretty red bow on his head. He wore a snug red henley and gray sweatpants, looking both murderous and utterly done with life.

He looked divine, even tied up. Delicious. Marvelous. He could make greek gods envious.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” Steve and Sam chorused, howling with laughter.

Your jaw dropped, and then a giggle bubbled out of you as you knelt by the box. “Oh my gosh, you two didn’t! Poor Bucky!”

Bucky’s piercing glare snapped to Steve and Sam. He growled something unintelligible through the gag, making them laugh harder. Your cheeks flushed as you gently began untying the bow and ropes.

“I’m so sorry they did this to you,” you said, smiling softly as you helped him out of the box.

Bucky’s expression was a storm cloud, but when his sharp blue eyes landed on your sweet, genuine smile, his hardened features instantly softened.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” he murmured, pulling you into a surprisingly gentle hug. The heat of his body and the smell of fresh pine and something distinctly him filled your senses.

You melted into the embrace, pressing your face into his chest as your arms circled his waist and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

The tender moment lasted five seconds. Maybe eight, but who’s counting?

Then, he pulled back and turned to Steve and Sam.

“You two are dead,” he growled, rolling his shoulders.

Steve and Sam’s laughter ceased as they quickly stood. “Now, Buck, let’s talk about this—”

But Bucky was already moving towards them, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

“We’re going to run,” Sam muttered, and the two bolted out of the room, Bucky hot on their heels, shouting threats about payback.

Watching the chase unfold, you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped your lips. Natasha caught your eyes as she sipped her coffee.

“Guess you’re his sunshine, huh?” she teased.

You bit your lip, cheeks warm as you whispered, “Maybe.”

Natasha smirked knowingly but didn’t push further. Instead, she was content to watch the chaos unfold as Bucky cornered Sam near the Christmas tree.

“You think tying me up is funny?” Bucky growled, advancing with a predatory stride.

“It wasn’t just me!” Sam yelped, using the tree as a barrier. “Steve came up with the idea!”

Steve, who was inching toward the kitchen in a futile attempt to escape unnoticed, froze under Bucky’s glare.

“Traitor,” he muttered under his breath, cursing Sam’s lack of discretion.

“Traitor?” Bucky repeated, catching the word. “You both tied me up like a damn Christmas present and you’re calling him the traitor?”

You stifled a laugh behind your hand, stepping closer. “Okay, okay, Bucky. Maybe don’t kill them? It is Christmas.”

“Besides, we did it for her,” Sam pointed at you to soften the blow. “Right, sugarplum?”

“Do not call her sugarplum. Ever.” Bucky warned Sam.

“Bucky,” You called softly, looking up at him.

Bucky paused, looking back at you.

His sharp glare softened into something almost dopey when he saw your pleading eyes and soft smile.

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fine. They live. For now.”

Sam exhaled audibly, his shoulders slumping in relief. “Thank you, sunshine!” he called to you, grinning.

But Bucky turned sharply, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t push it.”

Sam immediately zipped his mouth,

Steve, ever the brave one, chuckled and clapped Bucky on the shoulder as he passed. “Merry Christmas, old pal.”

Bucky’s only response was a low grumble of curse before sitting on the couch.

You disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few moments later, offering him a warm mug of hot cocoa in your hands.

“Here,” you said softly, “Hot cocoa. Consider it a peace offering on behalf of Steve and Sam.”

Bucky eyed the mug for a moment, then you. He took it without a word, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a little jolt through you.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a sip.

You sat beside him, your own cocoa in hand, legs tucked beneath you as you leaned against the armrest. The room buzzed with holiday chatter and laughter, but your attention stayed on the super soldier beside you.

“I hope they didn’t ruin your day,” you said after a moment, voice tinged with genuine concern.

Bucky glanced at you, his lips quirking up in a faint smile. “Nah. Nothing can ruin my day when you are smiling at me like that, sunshine.”

Your cheeks burned and you looked away.

Natasha, who had been observing the exchange from across the room, smirked and leaned over to Clint. “He’s whipped,” she whispered.

Clint raised an eyebrow, glancing at you and Bucky before nodding. “Completely.”

Bucky leaned back on the couch, sipping his cocoa and sneaking glances at you. Every now and then, his lips would tug into a soft smile.

Without a word, he shifted, inching toward you on the couch. He casually draped his arm across the back of the couch, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You eagerly took the opportunity to tuck yourself into Bucky’s side.

This time, leaving his cheeks burning.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays! Stay warm/cool wherever you're at.

Tell your loved ones that you love them.

And if nobody told you today, I love you <3

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

#james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #beefy bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #christmas #christmas fluff #christmas fic #grumpy x sunshine #merry christmas

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cosmicaura7 · 3 months ago

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WHOLE PACKAGE BABE, I LIKE THE WAY YOU FIT

Pairings : pedro pascal (francisco morales) x reader

Genre : f/m, smut, size kink, size difference, unprotected sex, creampie

Synopsis : In where Francisco Morales is still a virgin because of his rather large size. That was until you came along.

Word Count : 2.7k (my first time writing smut! Hope you guys enjoy.)

Taglist : none yet

Francisco Morales had never thought of himself as unlucky when it came to women, but after years of failed attempts at getting laid, he was starting to think otherwise. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He had been with plenty of women, beautiful, smart, interested. They liked him, heck even wanted him. But the moment things got intimate, they took one look at what he was packing and suddenly had an excuse to leave. Some were polite about it, some not so much, but the end result was always the same.

It had gotten bad enough that his so-called brothers in arms had decided to intervene.

Which was how Frankie found himself sitting at a dive bar with Will, Benny, and Pope, all of them nursing beers and conspiring about how to finally get him laid.

“I’m just saying…” Benny started, leaning forward with his usual shit-eating grin. “...we need to find you a woman who can handle what you’re working with, man.”

“Jesus Christ, Benny.” Frankie groaned, rubbing his face in frustration as he’s not really in the mood to discuss it any further.

“I’m serious!” Benny gestures wildly with his beer bottle. “We gotta think strategy here. We can’t just throw you at any random woman and hope for the best.” He then started strategizing like the topic of Frankie’s virginity was some sort of football game.

“Benny, we’re not hunting for a damn prize mare. Frankie’s not some freak, he just hasn’t found the right person yet.” Will, ever the rational one, sighed to himself.

Frankie sighed, slumping in his chair. “Thank you, Will.” He then grabs a hold of his beer to take another big gulp.

Santiago, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly smirked. “You know… I might actually know someone.” He couldn’t help but laugh in amusement at the three pairs of eyes turning towards him in confusion and interest.

“Who?” Benny asked, intrigued.

Pope took a slow sip of his beer, as if considering. Then he grinned widely at his brothers. “She’s a friend of mine. Someone I trust. And I think she might just be exactly what Frankie needs.” He couldn’t help but contain the excitement bubbling inside his chest at the thought of setting his best friend up with one of his best friends as well.

“I don’t need a damn setup!” Frankie frowned in annoyance, taking another sip of his beer.

“Yes you do.” Bennyl cuts in, slightly flinching at the sight of Frankie glaring at him as he decides to keep his mouth shut for now.

Pope ignored his protest and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her.” He was already searching through his contacts to look for his best friend’s phone number to immediately dial her and see if she’s available.

Frankie groaned again, but deep down, curiosity stirred. Because if Pope was suggesting someone, it meant she wasn’t just a random woman. It meant she was different. And God help him, maybe different was exactly what he needed.

-----

You had no idea what to expect when Pope called you. You’d known him for years, had run in the same circles, and trusted him more than most people. So when he told you he had a friend who needed a woman’s… expertise, you were instantly intrigued. And when you met Francisco Morales for the first time, you were absolutely sold. The man was gorgeous. Tall, broad, rough around the edges but with soft brown eyes that made your stomach flip. He was shy, almost awkward, but there was something about him that pulled you in.

And when Pope, not so subtly, filled you in on why you were here, you nearly laughed. Because this poor man had been struggling all this time over something most women would kill for.

So, after a night of drinks and quiet conversation, you leaned in, tracing a finger over the rim of your glass, and said. “You wanna get out of here, Frankie?” And you couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction.

His eyes widened slightly. “You… you sure?” He couldn’t help but tighten his grip around his beer bottle to ground himself and make sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

You smiled. “I think you’ll find I’m not so easily intimidated.” And when you finally got him alone, when you got your hands on him, got to see exactly what had scared off so many women before you, you grinned.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You murmured, looking up at him through your lashes. “Those poor girls had no idea what they were missing.” And as Francisco Morales let you pull him onto the bed, he had a feeling that, for the first time in his life, he had finally met his match.

-----

Francisco Morales had never felt like this before, like he was drowning, overwhelmed, consumed. You were everywhere, wrapped around him, pulling him in deeper, moaning his name like it was the only thing you could remember. And the way you looked at him, like you couldn’t get enough, like you were obsessed with how he felt inside you, it was almost too much to handle.

“Fuck…” You gasped, nails digging into his back as he thrust into you again, slow and deep, stretching you open in a way that had you shaking. “You’re so…fuck. Frankie. you’re so big.” Jesus, even the way you moan was like angels singing in his damn ears.

He groaned, burying his face against your neck, his breath hot and uneven. “Too much?” He rasped, already prepared to stop, to pull back, to give you time to adjust…

But you only clenched tighter around him, dragging him closer, your legs locking around his waist. “No…” You whimpered pathetically, rolling your hips up to meet his. Feeling absolutely desperate and needy for more. “Never too much.” You sigh out, feeling your brain soon turn into mush just like how Frankie was turning your insides into mush as well and making a complete mess out of you.

Frankie swore under his breath. He had never had this before, not just the pleasure, not just the sex, but this. The way you wanted him, all of him. His size had scared every other woman off. But not you.

You loved it.

You needed it.

“More.” You begged so prettily for him. “I want to feel all of you.” Your hands slid down his back, gripping his ass, urging him to move.

Frankie groaned, lifting his head to look at you, and damn near lost it. You were completely wrecked, lips swollen, eyes glassy with pleasure and body shaking in ecstasy. Your nails dragged down his skin, leaving marks, as if you needed proof that he was real, that this was all real.

“You’re perfect. So fucking thick, made to ruin me.” You whispered, biting your lip as he pushed in deeper, the stretch almost too much but exactly what you wanted.

Frankie cursed, his control slipping. He grabbed your hips, pinning you down as he thrust into you harder and deeper. You moaned, arching under him as your body shudders around him. “This what you want, hermosa?” He rasped, voice thick with arousal. “Want me to stretch you open? Fill you up?” His thrusts slowly increase its pace as his grip on the beautiful woman beneath him tightens.

“Yes, yes! Fuck!” Your head fell back against the pillows with your body trembling beneath him. “Yes…” You whined.

Frankie growled, his lips capturing yours in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss, swallowing your moans. He had never felt wanted like this before. And he was never letting you go.

Frankie was losing himself in you. He had never felt anything like this before, never felt anyone like this before. The way you took him, the way you needed him, the way you looked at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. And the way you clenched around him, so hot, so tight, so perfect, made it impossible to stop. He should stop. He should pull out. He knew he should. But he couldn’t.

Because you felt too good.

Because you wanted it.

Because he was obsessed with the way you swallowed him whole, with the way your body craved his, with the way you moaned when he filled you up. And right now, with you writhing beneath him, your fingers tangled in his hair, your breath hot against his ear as you whimpered. “Frankie, please…please don’t stop. Need you so bad…”

How the fuck was he supposed to stop?

Frankie groaned, pressing you deeper into the mattress as he thrust into you, slow and deep, burying himself to the hilt. He felt you tremble, felt your nails rake down his back, and fuck, it only made him want you more. “You feel so fucking good.” He rasped against your lips, his voice thick with need. “So tight, so perfect, taking me so well.”

“Don’t pull out.” You moaned, your back arching, your legs wrapping tighter around him, locking him inside you. “Wanna feel you. Wanna be full of you.” You breathed, your lips brushing against his.

Frankie swore, something breaking inside him. His hips snapped against yours, his movements turning rougher, more desperate, more needy. “Fuck. You want it, hermosa? Want me to fill you up?” He gritted out.

“Yes! Please…” You nodded frantically, clinging to him, your walls fluttering around him.

That was all he needed.

Frankie buried himself as deep as he could, his body shaking as he spilled inside you, his release filling you up, making you gasp as you felt him flood you.

“So fucking good.” You whimpered, your legs tightening around him, holding him close, not letting him go. “So good…” You whispered to yourself, your lips brushing against his temple.

Frankie groaned, his body still trembling, his breath uneven as he pressed a lazy kiss to your collarbone. He knew he should move. He should pull out. He should clean you up. But instead, he stayed inside you, letting himself sink into your warmth, into the way you held him, into the way you fit around him.

Because fuck, he wasn’t ready to let you go.

And maybe… he never would.

-----

The room was still heavy with the scent of sex, the air thick with warmth as you and Frankie lay tangled together in the sheets. His broad chest rose and fell beneath your cheek, his heartbeat still erratic from the way he had just wrecked you. You traced lazy patterns over his skin, reveling in the way he still pulsed inside you, not yet willing to pull away. His arm was wrapped securely around you, holding you against him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

Frankie let out a long, satisfied sigh, his fingers dragging through your hair as he pressed a slow kiss to your forehead. “That was…” He trailed off, searching for words.

“Yeah?” You grinned, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Yeah…” He murmured. “Fucking perfect.” His brown eyes were soft, a little dazed, a little wrecked.

You preened under his praise, nuzzling against his chest, feeling impossibly warm and full in every way.

And then…

Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

Frankie groaned as the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand shattered the peaceful silence. He ignored it at first, nuzzling deeper into your hair, but when it went off again, he let out a reluctant sigh.

“You should get that.” You couldn’t help but teased, lazily pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

“I really don’t want to.” He muttered, squeezing your hip.

Out of curiosity, you peeked over his shoulder and caught the name flashing on the screen. Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia. “Oh, this is gonna be good.” You smirked.

Frankie shot you a suspicious look before finally grabbing his phone and answering. “What?” He grumbled, voice hoarse from exhaustion. There was a beat of silence before Pope’s voice rang through the speaker, way too fucking amused.

“So…” Pope drawled. “Did she finally pop your cherry, or what?”

Your eyes went wide, and then you lost it. A surprised snort escaped you, quickly turning into full-blown laughter as you buried your face in Frankie’s chest, your body shaking with amusement.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope.” Frankie groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“What?” Pope said innocently. “We had a bet going. Benny swore you’d chicken out last minute.”

“I fuckin’ knew he had it in him! Pay up, Garcia!” You could hear Benny’s distant voice in the background.

“I hate all of you.” Frankie clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Fish.” Pope teased. “We’re proud of you, man. You finally got your dick wet.”

You howled with laughter, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as Frankie groaned again, looking absolutely fucking done. “Okay bye.” Frankie gritted out before hanging up and tossing his phone onto the nightstand.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever witnessed.” Still laughing, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” Frankie grumbled something under his breath before finally sighing and shaking his head, his lips twitching.

“Maybe a little.” You grinned.

“Think it’s time I wipe that smug look off your face.” Frankie rolled onto his side, pinning you beneath him, his large hands sliding down your waist.

“Yeah?” Your breath hitched, your body already responding to him again.

“Yeah.” He smirked, pressing his hips against yours, already hard again.

And as Frankie Morales sank back into you, filling you up all over again, you decided that his friends could wait. Because there was no fucking way you were done with him yet.

-----

Francisco Morales had it bad. It had only been a few days since that first night, but in that short time, you had completely taken over his life. Every thought, every free moment, his head is just filled with you. You were insatiable, always pulling him back into bed, always wrapping yourself around him like you couldn’t get enough. And Frankie? Frankie was just as bad. If you so much as looked at him a certain way, he was done for. If you so much as brushed your fingers over his thigh, whispered something soft against his ear, he was fucking gone.

And his friends noticed.

Which was why, four days later, when the team met up at their usual bar, Frankie found himself the target of relentless teasing.

Benny was the first to start. “So Fish…” He drawled, leaning back in his seat, a shit eating grin on his face. “Haven’t seen much of you these last few days. Wonder why that is.”

“I’ve been busy.” Frankie ignored his teasing, taking a slow sip of his beer.

“Busy, huh?” Will smirked, exchanging a look with Pope.

“I think he means he’s been buried between…” Benny grinned, nudging Pope as well.

“Don’t.” Frankie shot him a glare.

But Pope was already laughing. “Oh, come on, hermano. We all see it. You look like a man who hasn’t left his girl’s bed since the second he got a taste.” Despite him and the others giggling like middle school boys and making fun of Frankie, there was no denying that they were happy for him for finally finding someone he wants to spend his life with.

Frankie groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You guys are the fucking worst.” He then takes a long sip of the beer in his hands in an attempt to hide the love sick grin on his face.

“You do know we’re happy for you, right?” Benny chuckled, leaning forward.

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie sighed, rolling his eyes.

“But we’re still gonna give you shit.” Pope smirked, clapping his hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Just don’t forget to hydrate, man.” Will chuckled, shaking his head.

Frankie flipped them all off. That was when his phone buzzed. He glanced down at the screen, and his stomach did a little flip when he saw your name pop up.

[Hermosa]: Miss you. Come over?

Frankie couldn’t help the way his lips twitched.

Oh my God, you’re so smitten.” Benny caught the look immediately and groaned. “

“I gotta go.” Frankie ignored him, already standing and reaching for his keys to get ready to leave and return back home.

“Yeah, we know.” Pope snorted at him.

“Give her our love!” Benny called after him.

“Give her some water after you’re done!” Will added, laughing.

Frankie just shook his head, but he didn’t stop walking. Because, fuck, they were right, he was smitten. And he had every intention of showing you exactly how much.

#chat and chill #x fem!reader #x female reader #x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #francisco morales #triple frontier #frankie morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction

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gracie-eilish · 4 months ago

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Could you please do something where reader is like super introverted but comfortable around billie (cuz they're dating 😛) and one day reader is just yapping so much like ranting, but then she realizes she's talking a lot and gets embarrassed and starts to apologize a bunch but billie finds it absolutely adorable when she gets passionate about things since its not too often she does it?

an: thanks for the requestttt babyyyyy:) i hope u like itttt🧡🧡🧡

Heart Eyes😍

It wasn’t often that you talked this much.

Billie knew that.

She knew you were quiet, introverted—the kind of person who preferred listening over speaking, who felt more at home in the background rather than the spotlight. She never minded. If anything, she loved it, loved the way you opened up just enough for her, how you never felt the need to fill the silence when you were together.

But sometimes… sometimes when you two were alone, you got carried away.

Like right now.

You weren’t even sure what had started it. One moment, you and Billie were curled up on the couch, her fingers lazily tracing patterns against your thigh, the two of you basking in that warm, easy silence you always fell into. And then—you started talking.

It was something small at first. Maybe a comment about a show you had been watching, something that had been bothering you about a certain character.

“I just don’t get it,” you huffed, shifting against the cushions as Billie let out a small hum of acknowledgment. “Like—why would they build up this whole storyline just to throw it away? Do they not understand how character arcs work?”

Billie smirked, eyes flicking up from where her head rested against your shoulder. “Oh no,” she teased. “Here we go.”

You shot her a playful glare, but that only encouraged her grin.

“I’m serious, Billie!” You sat up a little straighter, suddenly feeling the need to gesture as you spoke. “They spent three seasons setting this up! And then what? They just—throw it away like it’s nothing?” You scoffed, hands flying in frustration. “What was even the point? It’s lazy writing, that’s what it is. They had so much potential, and they ruined it!”

Billie watched you with an amused glint in her eyes, her lips twitching like she was holding back a smile.

“I mean, tell me I’m wrong,” you pressed, turning to her expectantly. “You know it was bad. Like, objectively bad.”

Billie finally let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, babe, I’m not about to argue with you. You’re on a roll right now.”

That only fueled you more.

“Exactly! And it’s not even just this show—writers always do this! It’s like they don’t trust the audience to appreciate a slow-burn arc anymore.” You sighed dramatically, running a hand through your hair. “Like, God forbid they actually develop their characters instead of just rushing to wrap things up in the most unsatisfying way possible.”

Billie let out another hum, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against your knee. “Mm, sounds like someone should just write their own show.”

You paused, considering. “Honestly? I could do a better job than half these people.”

Billie snorted. “No doubt.”

“I’m serious!” You shifted to face her more fully, your expression animated. “If I ever wrote a show, I’d actually respect my characters. I wouldn’t just throw out their development for shock value.”

Billie’s grin widened. “Oh, I believe you, baby.”

You went on, too caught up in your thoughts to notice the way she was looking at you.

“And another thing,” you continued, “it’s like they don’t even watch their own show. How do you write for characters you clearly don’t understand? How do you spend years creating something just to betray the entire foundation of what made it good?”

Billie bit her lip, watching as your hands gestured wildly, your eyes practically glowing with passion.

You barely stopped to breathe, completely wrapped up in your rant. “And don’t even get me started on how they completely sidelined the best character. Like, hello? They deserved way more screentime—”

Then, suddenly, mid-sentence—

You froze.

Your face went hot, your stomach flipping as you realized just how much you had been saying.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hands immediately retreating to your lap. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You turned to Billie, half-expecting her to look overwhelmed, or maybe even a little annoyed.

Instead—

She was staring at you.

Like, full-on staring.

Her blue eyes were impossibly soft, lips slightly parted, and if you weren’t mistaken—her cheeks were a little pink.

She looked completely entranced.

“Billie?” You blinked, suddenly very aware of how quiet the room had gotten. You shifted under her gaze, ducking your head as embarrassment settled in your chest. “I was totally rambling, I—I didn’t even let you say anything. I’ll stop now.”

But then Billie melted.

Like, literally melted.

She let out the softest little sigh, her entire body going warm against you as she reached forward, cupping your face with both hands. Her thumbs brushed over your cheeks, her expression so stupidly in love that you felt even more flustered.

“Are you kidding?” she whispered, her voice dipping into something soft, something almost dazed.

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. “W-What?”

Billie’s smile was slow, her lips curling at the edges like she couldn’t contain it.

“That was adorable.”

Your stomach flipped.

Your lips parted, but before you could even think of what to say, she was already leaning in, pressing the softest, most lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” she murmured, her nose brushing against your skin as she pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “You never talk that much, and I swear I have actual heart eyes watching you right now.”

You made a noise in protest, your face burning. “Billie—”

“No, seriously,” she insisted, grinning now, her fingers sliding down to gently cradle your jaw. “You were so passionate, I could feel how much you cared, and—ugh, you’re just so cute.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Stop.”

Billie giggled—an actual, breathless little giggle.

She pried your hands away from your face with ease, tugging them into her lap before lacing your fingers together.

“Why are you embarrassed?” she teased, tilting her head. “I loved it. Love when you talk like that.”

You chewed on your lip, still trying to process the ridiculous amount of fondness in her eyes. “…You do?”

Billie sighed dramatically, squeezing your hands. “Baby. I love everything about you.”

You exhaled slowly, the warmth in your chest growing until it was almost unbearable.

Billie beamed, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Now—go on.”

You blinked. “What?”

She grinned. “Keep talking. I wanna hear more.”

Your heart stuttered.

You hesitated, but the way she was looking at you—the way she was practically soaking up your every word—it made the nerves melt away just enough.

So you did.

You kept talking.

And Billie listened.

She held onto your every word like it mattered, like you mattered.

And maybe, just maybe—

You’d let yourself get carried away more often.

#billie eilish #wlw #billie eilish fluff #fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie x you #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie x reader

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lady-djarin · 6 months ago

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thoroughfare

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: not even close to canon events, no ellie, no jackson mentioned, joel is a softie protector type, age gap (legal 50s/late 20s), one bed trope, spooning, fingering, oral (f receiving first time), piv sex, mdni, 18+

word count: 2.4k

a/n: yall know me i can’t hear a song and not make a fic from it. as a daughter of cain i couldn’t help but make something from one of her many songs and this album specifically changed me in many ways. i also can’t help but think of joel anytime i listen to this song or any of them for that matter.

inspired by: thoroughfare by ethel cain

“for the first time since i was a child i could see a man who wasn’t angry. […] 'cause in your pickup truck with all of your dumb luck is the only place I think I'd ever wanna be.”

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

When the world ended you learned a few things very quickly. One; the wild is a better choice than the QZ’s. Two; water is more important than food in an emergency. And three; trust no one. Because of these three things, you now survived on your own, your group split up or died long ago.

As you walked along a dusty road in Texas somewhere you started to hear the faint rumble of an engine far off in the distance. The quiet desert didn’t have much around it for you to hide in except for a few trees and slightly tall grass. You crouched in the grass near a tree and prayed whoever it was didn’t see you.

Sure enough as the truck passed your spot, it slowed down and backed up so the man inside was looking right at your tree. He stepped out and circled the truck, keeping light on his feet and looked around in the grass. He didn’t see you until, in a moment of stupidity, you looked up and made direct eye contact with him. Your heart rate sped up and you froze, seemingly unable to take your eyes off him. The deep brown of them felt like a balm to your ragged soul. Despite all prior aversion and honestly hatred of men, this one seemed different.

“Y’can come out… I won’t hurt’cha, I promise.”

His deep southern drawl was comforting for some reason and he did sound genuine. You slowly stood but didn’t move forward, keeping your distance for now.

“What do you want?” Your voice was still cutting, cold as ice.

“Well… I wanna make sure you're ok,” his honeyed voice was low, like he was afraid to startle an animal.

“What do you care?”

“You’re out here, alone. I care because you look…”

“Rough? Yea, I know,” you hated that he was dissolving your weariness.

“I can give you a ride… if you wanna see the west with me?”

This large and admittedly handsome man was making a good case. He seemed good enough, definitely better than other men you’ve encountered. Usually as soon as they see a young fresh face like yours they resort to their baser levels, only wanting one thing.

He was nothing like that so far. You weighed your options; you could keep walking to who knows where with almost no water and probably run into people worse than this man, or you could take a leap of faith and get in that truck.

Fuck it.

“Fine, but if you pull any funny business, I’ll kill you. Got it?”

Much to your chagrin, the man kind of smirked, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

“Come on… we gotta get goin’,” he just turned and walked back to the truck, settling in the front seat as he waited for you to follow.

You reluctantly stepped up into the passenger side, thankful that it was long enough to keep at least a few feet away from him. You kept your eyes down and only darted them over every so often as to make sure he wasn’t closing the distance. He surprised you by nudging your arm with a metal canteen, holding it open towards you.

“Have some, s’just water.”

You looked at him suspiciously, a permanent scowl etched in your brow. He seemed almost confused that you were suspicious but he only demonstrated its safety by drinking from it himself.

“See? Just have some, m’sure y’need it.”

The droplets of water sitting on his lips grabbed the light, making it dance across his features. You forgot for a moment you’re not supposed to trust him yet but you take the canteen anyway. The surprisingly cold water slides down your throat and you almost choke on the feel of it, it had been a long time since you had fresh, clear, cold water. A groan slipped free as you took in more water with deep gulps.

“Ok relax… you’re gonna drown,” he gently took the canteen away and screwed the cap on all whithout taking his eyes off the wheel. You sat again in slightly tense silence for another few miles. You knew by now he probably wasn’t going to hurt you, at least not yet.

“I’m Joel by the way…”

You looked over at him and found a warm smile framed by his slightly greying beard. You ended up telling him your name, telling yourself you’ll only be with him for a little while and you wouldn’t tell him much else.

That was two months ago.

Safe to say Joel was nothing like other men you’d met. He told you he was headed west because Texas was bone dry in every sense. No people, no food, no water. He also always seemed a little lonely to you, like he was searching for more than just sustenance.

The two of you became pretty close, considering neither of you had any real ‘friendships’ in this fucked up world. It was a pretty stable routine; drive or walk until you found somewhere inhabitable, eat, sleep in rotations and repeat. Between all that, there was nothing to do but talk and he eventually got you to open up.

You told him your story of day one and he told you his, or at least bits and pieces of it. You learned he’s much older than you, more than expected. He looked very good being in his 50’s but he doesn’t know exactly his age as he apparently stopped keeping track a few years back. He was almost 25 years your senior with you being in your late 20’s.

He asked what it was like growing up in a world like this and you asked him about life before it all. One day on a long road he told you about how when he was twelve, his brother, mom and him took a road trip and he fell in love with new parts of America.

Eventually you two made it to California, the coast offering resources you couldn’t get in Texas. You both found out later that you ended up more north than you thought so it was cooler than expected. Joel found an empty warehouse a little inland and you made your usual set up, the one difference being the bed.

One bed.

There was an old mattress on a thin metal frame shoved in a corner hidden under some boxes so that must have been why no one took it yet. It wasn’t huge but it had a mattress and some almost disintegrated blankets on it but it was better than the floor. The two of you worked to get it out and brushed off, setting it up close to the fire you had built. As you warmed up your gourmet meal of 20-year-old canned beans, you noticed Joel rolling his sleeping bag out on the floor.

“Don’t even try to tell me you’re gonna sleep there…,” you gave him that condescending look that he hates.

“Where the hell else would I sleep?”

All you did was raise your eyebrows and gesture to the bed across from the fire.

“That’s yours, honey.”

Honey— a nickname he gave you when he teased you about being ‘sweet as honey’, very clearly being sarcastic. He knows how it makes your eyes roll but he doesn’t know how it makes your heart skip.

“Joel, you’re an old man. You need a bed.”

He ground his teeth but didn’t hide his smirk. This was another thing that became normal, the teasing— borderline flirting.

“Darlin’, what’ve I told you about callin’ me old?”

You turn to him slowly and give him a wicked grin. “That it turns you on?” You burst into a fit of laughs when he gives you a sobered shocked look. “Oh come on Joel, we can be adults and share. Can’t we?”

He paused for a few moments grumbling to himself, as he often did, before huffing and conceding.

“Fine, but you behave yourself, and don't move around too much.”

“Yes sir,” you gave him your best dramatic salute.

You found yourself lying awake about an hour later. It was cold beyond belief and while Joel was a living furnace, you lacked in that department. You honestly did try not to move, knowing the mattress shook with every turn but it was so hard to get comfortable being this cold. As you turned onto your back again, you heard a loud inhale and froze.

“Darlin’?” His voice was sleepy and oh so delicious.

“Sorry— I can't…”

“You’re shaking,” his warm large hand came to your arm as he turned towards you.

“I’m so cold, I just can’t get comfortable. Sorry.”

He nudged your arm so you would roll onto your side, away from him. “Come here.” His arm came around your middle, pulling your body back into his. The sudden change made your pulse race and you were unsure how to respond. His warm breath brushed your neck and his entire front was pressed against you. You kept shaking as he held you, chased away the cold with his touch.

“Joel…?”

“Mhm hmm?”

“What… what are you…?”

“Just, sleep darlin’,” his voice made your core drip.

You tried to stay still and go to sleep but now you were more restless than ever. Thighs rubbing together at the feel of his hard body behind you, his large arm cradling your waist, it all made your head feel light and your cunt feel heavy.

“Can’t sleep if ya keep movin’,” he didn’t sound annoyed, just tired.

“Fuck, sorry I’m… sorry.”

“Whad’ya need darlin’?”

“My mind just won’t shut up,” you sounded more whiny than you meant to. “I need a distraction I guess. Sorry, just go to sleep.”

You would think you’re dreaming if you didn’t feel Joel’s callused hand rubbing your stomach through your thin shirt. His fingers danced across your stomach, the slight pressure making your skin tingle.

“Stop sayin’ sorry darlin’. Is this ok?”

God, it was better than ok, he was unknowingly playing into all your desires.

“Y-yes, it’s— good.”

He kept up his soothing movements while you tried to be unaffected. Even though he wasn’t being overtly sensual he was driving you mad with lust. He probably didn’t even know how he was affecting you. The lazy swipe of his fingers across your belly was lifting the fabric between your skin and his and he made no move to lower it again. Soon the raw feeling of his fingers met your stomach and you almost jumped at the sensation. After you settled again, his entire broad hand flattened against you causing you both to release a sigh. Maybe he needed this as much as you did.

He didn’t stop moving his hand but he now moved the rest of his body even closer somehow. His hand started to roam, skating the surface of your torso then your arm and hip. His touch was intoxicating, some kind of drug that you never knew you needed. You could sense Joel’s shift in mood soon after, there was something there now mixed with the tiredness clinging to him.

With the slight push of his hips into yours, it was clear. He was turned on.

His voice was deep and mirky in your ear, like the ocean on a dark night. “Darlin’, I— uh…,” His hand stilled on your hip.

“Joel… don’t stop.” You finally looked back at him, trying to convey as much sincerity as you could. “Please.”

And he didn’t stop. Touched every inch until you were both shaking.

His wide frame hovered over you as he pushed you into the mattress. Those large hands were surprisingly gentle as he cupped your face. Those brown eyes you were once so afraid to trust now looked at you with nothing but lust, compassion and maybe even… love.

The hardness between his legs ground against your core, the seam of his boxers rubbed against your clit sending a bolt of pleasure through you. His lips continued to brush across your skin, leaving marks in their wake. The thought of Joel leaving his claim on you to see in the morning made you burn hotter.

Clothes were shed as you two fell into a rhythm of grinding and touching. The feeling of Joel between your legs and his length against the skin of your thigh made you shiver. Before pushing into you like you anticipated, he crawled down your body, kissing and licking as he went. After pulling your thighs around his head Joel devoured you.

His tongue parted your lips and circled your nub with talent like you’ve never seen before. Boys have tried before to please you but Joel, a real man like Joel knows exactly what he’s doing. And he proves that as he works you open on his fingers and tongue. You’re writhing under him as you grip his curls, keeping him close to you. Not that he needs any convincing, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself if the moans he releases are any indication.

He eats his fill, drinks you down and before you know it you’re falling apart on his lips. Your heart refuses to slow down as he kisses from your knees to your neck, centering you again.

“I’ve never— wow…,” there were no words to describe what you were feeling.

“Never…?” You knew he was teasing you, trying to get you to say the words, his smirk told you as much.

“No ones ever… done that,” you reached up to kiss him, tasting yourself there. Your fingers traced where your lips just were, those amazing ones of his drawing your attention. “…with their mouths.”

“What? No one?” He seemed genuinely shocked.

“No, I didn’t even… know th-that was possible.”

“Oh baby, there’s so much I'm going to show you.”

He definitely showed you new things and how much better he was at old things than anyone else. All night. The way he opened you up on his fingers first came in handy as he was not a small man. He stretched you with his length, pumping into you as he held you close. The stark difference between his bruising hips and gentle hands made you writhe under him. When all was said and done and both of you exploded with pleasure with him buried inside of you, you felt Joel’s true feelings.

The way he cared for you the whole time, making sure you were comfortable and cleaning you up after. All of it showed you how much he cared for you, even if you might never hear the words, his actions were enough.

#fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #lady djarin #tlou #joel miller #Spotify

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prettyfastcars · 1 year ago

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hiding all of our sins | Mob!Lewis

Summary: Your father had a lot of enemies, and naturally after his death those enemies began pestering and threatening you. When your own home began to feel unsafe, you turned to Lewis for help. Lewis – your late father’s best friend and the only person in the world that you could trust. Lewis promises to take care of you, and reassures you that you’re safe with him. He seems like a perfect knight in shining armour, but he’s not exactly a saint… is he? Perhaps his chivalry masks an ulterior motive.

Themes: mob!lewis, smut, fluff, praise kink, slight angst, mentions of death and violence, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), explicit language

You always waited by the door for him.

Lewis had been gone for quite some days this time. Usually his work trips are short, but he’d been gone for more than a week. You tried not to think about how miserable you’d been without him here.

You sighed just thinking about how you spent your days all alone, with only the housekeeping staff around, in the big house. You weren’t complaining though, you were grateful for it. For everything Lewis gave you. The security, the warmth, a home where you weren’t paranoid all the time.

You were grateful for Lewis. Sometimes you wondered what would’ve happened to you if he hadn’t offered a helping hand when he did.

Lewis came into your life after your father’s passing. But your father always spoke of him. They were childhood best friends. They grew up together, and later on became powerful, rich, and Machiavellian rulers together as well. But Lewis moved away in order to expand his empire even more and never visited.

He and your father kept in touch though.

Your family was small, it was just you and your father. And he had kept you sheltered your entire life. So when time came to leave home and move for uni, it was hard on both of you. You’d never been out in the ‘normal’ world before, you were always homeschooled and your friends were always other homeschooled kids – whose parents were friends with your father. So your circle was small as well.

And your father worried too much about you not being safe at home anymore. And unfortunately, he seemed to have worried himself to death. Because barely a year into uni, you received a call from home telling you that your father had passed due to a sudden heart failure.

Your whole world came crumbling down then. You would’ve been buried beneath the rubbles as well had Lewis not offered you his helping hand at the right time.

At your father’s funeral, that was the first time you’d met Lewis in real life. All this time he’d only ever been a voice on the phone. But he was there for you now.

He was there for you all throughout the funeral, took care of the planning and everything. He stood with you and held your hand at the cemetery even after everyone was gone. Lewis was somehow always where you needed him to be. Right beside you.

After your dad, it was up to you to handle all the businesses and what not. And you weren’t well equipped to do that. Plus, some people – rivals – saw it as an opportunity to scare you, hoping you’d offer them everything, give it all up and run. Some chose to appoint you as their new target, in place of your father: sending you threatening notes which always found their way into your car, your home, by the pool, everywhere. They also began poaching your staff, employees, even some of your guards.

And your home didn’t feel safe anymore. You couldn’t sleep at night, hadn’t been able to for days because you were constantly worried about your safety. Every little sound, every little creak made you panic, made you think that someone was in your home and were about to hurt you.

That’s when you turned to Lewis.

And he was ever so kind to help. Within a day or two you had packed your whole life and moved in with Lewis, in his luxurious home.

At first you thought it’d be awkward living with him. After all, you had never met him your whole life. He was much older than you, wiser too. And he was always calm, always knew what to do and what to say. He intimidated you at first. But then you got past the cold exterior, and he quickly became the warmest presence in your life. Comforting. Safe.

And you wouldn’t lie, you had a silly crush on him. How could you not? He was handsome, and beyond charming. He had the most gentle voice, and the most addicting laughter. He had ink all over his smooth skin, and his hugs were soothing even though he had hard muscles all over. And he had the kind of smile that could make your knees weak.

You were lost in thoughts of him, so much that you didn’t even realise the front door was opening up to reveal the man himself stepping into the house.

“Lewis!” You squealed, running into his waiting, open arms.

He laughed as he caught you, wrapping his big arms around you and holding you so close like he’d never let go. You buried your face into the cool material of his suit and breathed in his signature scent. Dark and powerful.

“I’ve missed you too, princess.” He murmured against your skin as he kissed your forehead.

“You’ve been gone for too long this time.” You whined against his warm neck, feeling the cold pearls of his necklace brushing against your mouth. You gave them a soft kiss without him noticing. Something about him always made you behave like a spoiled little princess, always wanting more of his time and attention, always whining and complaining.

“I’m sorry,” He cupped your face so you’d look at him, “But I’m here now. Okay?”

You nodded quickly, then smiled at him like he was all that mattered in the world. “Come, let’s eat.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him further into his home, towards the dining room. “I asked the chef to let me make dinner tonight.”

“You did?” He let you drag him all the way to the dining room.

The pride in his voice made you bloom. “I did! All by myself.”

When he finally saw the dining table, he turned to face you with a gentle smirk. With his braids tied at the back like this, he looked younger than he was. “I love how extra you are, princess.”

You led him to his chair and said, “I’m not extra, I just like using the fancy stuff.”

He reached out and grabbed your wrist before you could turn around. Bringing your hand up to his soft mouth, kissing it and then he murmured, “Well, you laying the table with the fancy stuff is very much appreciated, princess.”

You smiled at him again before you took your seat. He sat at the head of the enormous table, and you to his right. He asked you about how your week without him went while he poured wine into two glasses. He listened to your whining and complaining with a soft smile on his pretty face while you both ate.

You asked him about his work and as usual, he gave you the briefest of details. When you pried some more he always told you that he would rather keep you as far away from that life as possible – like your father did.

And then, of course, the mention and memory of your late father always put a pout on your lips and a frown on your face. Lewis hated it. So he reached for your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I hate seeing you upset, princess.” He said, rubbing his thumb across your skin. Caressing it in a way that made you relax immediately.

You let out a sigh. “I just wish he would’ve taught me how this world works.” You said, your tone full of regret. “Maybe I could’ve handled things on my own after he was gone, instead of piling all my troubles on top of you.”

“Hey,” He said, rather sternly. “Look at me.” When you finally looked up from your plate, Lewis gave your hand another reassuring squeeze. “Your father wanted to keep you away from the dangers of this life. And I intend to keep you safe as well. As for handling things on his or your behalf, well it’s an honour.”

You smiled at Lewis. A softer smile. There were instances like this one where all you wanted to do was climb onto his lap, wrap your arms around him and never let him go. “Thank you, Lewis.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, princess.” He wanted to get rid of that sombre look on your face, so he suggested, “Now, how about we have a movie night?”

Your face lit up immediately. “Okay, I’ll go get changed and make us snacks.” You spoke as you got up.

Lewis got up as well, saying he’d meet you downstairs in the living room after a quick shower.

—

You rushed to your room and got changed into your most comfiest PJs, before almost running to the pantry in the kitchen to find the best snacks. You gathered your goods in the living room and waited for a few minutes, but Lewis didn’t come.

So you walked back up, down the corridor and all the way to his room. You knocked twice before entering, then heard the shower going. You almost turned around to leave but then you caught the scent of his body wash – invigorating, appealing, earthy, and incredibly masculine. Somehow that made you stay.

And instead of walking out of his bedroom, you threw yourself onto his comfy bed. You stretched and rolled around lazily like a sleepy kitten who’s found the most perfect sunlit spot. So there you stayed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and eventually drowned out the sound of Lewis’ shower.

A few minutes passed and you didn’t even realise that the shower had been turned off. The sound of the bathroom door knob turning made you freeze, and a second later Lewis was standing in front of you with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” He said, standing there in front of the bed with a playful smile on his face. You remained speechless. He added, “I noticed some of your stuff in my bathroom. Care to explain?”

Your brain barely even registered the words that came out of his mouth because you were mesmerised by the sight of him. The water drops sliding down his abs, the tattooed skin glistening, and that damn towel wrapped so low, so carelessly. Your heart pounded.

Lewis took a few steps forward, coming to a stop at the end of his king size canopy bed. He braced a muscular arm against one of the posts, “I also noticed some of your things on my bedside. And now that I think about it, there was also a ‘you’ size dent in my bed when I walked in.” He had that same boyish, playful smirk. “Did you nap in here, princess?”

You finally peeled your eyes away from that deliciously distracting nautical compass tattoo in the middle of his chest, and stared into his dark brown eyes while his previous questions finally registered in your brain. The moment they did, you groaned and hid your face into a nearby pillow.

Lewis laughed as he came to the side of the bed, reaching out to tickle you until you faced him again while laughing hysterically. “I’m sorry, okay?” You tried to run, but he grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you back, and ended up pinning you to his bed. “I’m sorry.” You repeated, giggling and now unable to hide.

He pinned your wrists on either side of your head, leaning over you as he spoke. “I didn’t ask for an apology. You can do whatever you want in this house,” He smirked. “I asked for an explanation. Now, did you sleep in here while I was gone?” He prayed you didn’t look down, otherwise you’d see the huge bulge forming behind the towel.

The thought of you in here? On his bed? Sleeping peacefully while he was away dealing with work? It made him puff up with how much he liked it.

You groaned again, and tried to escape but he threatened to tickle you until you were breathless again so you finally confessed, “Okay fine, I slept here the whole time you were away.” You sounded a little embarrassed as you said so.

“You did?”

You nodded, looking up sheepishly at him. “It helps.” You said. You couldn’t get over how good he looked above you.

Lewis frowned. “Sleeping in my bed helps? With what?”

You whined in embarrassment, then said, “You know, the funny feeling.”

“What funny feeling, princess?”

Instead of talking, you twisted your hand free from his grasp and held his hand while you guided it over to where you wanted. You urged his hand to cup you in between your legs. Lewis sucked in a sudden breath as he did, cupping you through the satin shorts of your PJs.

“Right here?” He questioned with a deeper, raspier voice, looking up to meet your eyes. He found you with parted lips and a hazy look in your eyes. You nodded at his question. “And you get this often?”

“Only when I think of you.”

His fingers gave you an experimental squeeze, pressing into your clothed flesh. And you gasped at the foreign but welcomed feeling.

“Well then, I better see what this is about.”

You watched how he let go of your wrists, grabbed the waistband of your shorts and slowly dragged them down your legs. He threw them behind him somewhere before placing his warm, rough and tattooed hands on your thighs, spreading them.

You gasped as he slid a gentle finger up and down your slit through your thin underwear. You watched his tattooed finger moving slowly in between your shaking thighs, and when you looked up you found him staring down at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes.

“Please.” You murmured.

Lewis smirked. It felt like a warning for the coming danger. “And this funny feeling… how did it go away, princess?”

You whimpered both under his touch and at his question.

When you didn’t respond, he leaned down and mumbled as he kissed along your exposed throat. “Answer me.”

You whimpered at the tone of voice he used, which made you grind against his finger instinctively. “I… I took care of it.”

“How?” He kissed his way up to your chin, biting your skin playfully and making your back arch off the bed. “Hmm?” He sounded almost stern again. “Show me how you did it.”

He pulled away then, his finger no longer touching your skin as he stood on the side of the bed. You looked down and that towel around his waist was ready to come undone at any moment. And that made you clench your thighs tighter together.

“Show you?”

“Mhmm,” He nodded. “I wanna see.”

The look in his eyes gave you a strange rush. Like a boost of confidence. So you held his stare as you took the rest of your clothes off, dropping them carelessly on the bed before you grabbed the nearest pillow and straddled it.

You watched how his breathing deepened, even when he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the bed posts. Like he wanted a show.

So you gave him one. You humped his pillow right in front of him until you were a moaning, whimpering mess. Your fingers naturally found their way to your breasts, fondling and toying with them as you moved your hips, grinding on the pillow.

You were carried away by the satisfying feeling in between your thighs. Your eyes were closed the whole time, so you didn’t see him as he moved closer. You only realised he was indeed close to you again when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, preventing you from moving.

You opened your eyes and found Lewis’ face mere inches away from yours. You were breathing heavily, and he looked like he was barely able to hold back.

“So this is what you did while I was gone?”

You nodded.

“And did you think of me when you came? Each time?” His voice was almost unrecognisable. Deep. Dangerous.

You nodded again.

Lewis frowned like he was in pain. “Oh princess…” He whispered, leaning in just enough so that when he spoke, his lips brushed against your parted ones. “Now, can you do what you did to the pillow but on my face?” He asked, so casually that it took you a moment to process his words.

“What?”

He smirked again, “You heard me. Come sit on my face.”

You barely had time to be coy. He was already moving into the position he wanted, with you holding onto the headboard and kneeling on the bed while his face found its way in between your thighs.

You’d never been this intimate with anyone before, and Lewis sensed your brief hesitation. But then he kissed your inner thighs as you hovered above him and he said, “It’s okay, princess. It’s just me. I’m dying to see what you taste like.” His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place as he urged you to lower yourself down to his waiting mouth. He lifted his head up just a little to give your pussy a soft kiss. “This belongs to me, don’t keep it from me. Now sit.”

You whimpered as you did. And he was ready for it, his eager mouth latched onto your clit and he worked his mouth like his life depended on it. Sucking and licking and shoving his tongue past your wet folds, occasionally moving his head side to side.

You moaned out loud, throwing your head back as your hands held onto the headboard for support. His tongue worked wonders against your sensitive clit, making you feel all tingly and warm as you dripped all over his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good, princess…” he murmured against your wetness as you gently rolled your hips against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lips and chin, grinding against his tongue like you did the pillow. His teeth grazed your swollen, sensitive clit until he had you moaning loudly against him.

Your hips moved against his face as he licked each and every drop of what you gave him.

“Fuck, princess.” He groaned, closing his eyes and humming loudly at your taste. He adored the sounds you made above him. He even forgot that he was himself throbbing with need because he was determined to make you come. He’d dreamt of this, of having your thighs wrapped around his head and to taste you and make you come all over his tongue. “Come for me, baby.” He whispered.

You were so close even he could feel it. Your thighs clenched around his head even harder. His hands rubbed up and down your skin, caressing you as he tasted you leisurely like he had all the time in the world.

You looked down at one point and found him with his eyes closed, enjoying himself, happy to be there and that did it. You came with a loud cry, grinding harder against his tongue. You were shaking, trying to calm down after that mind bending orgasm, and before you knew it Lewis was behind you.

Kneeling behind you with his legs outside of yours, that damn towel discarded, his warm chest pressing into your back. His arms wrapped around you and his mouth kissed your neck from behind.

“You taste like heaven, princess.” He mumbled into your ear, his hand drifting down your body to tease your clit again while his other hand wrapped around your throat. “I’m gonna fuck this delicious little pussy now, okay?”

You nodded quickly, whimpering as his fingers spread you open for him while he pushed into you again from behind. “Fuck…” You moaned quietly.

There was nothing gentle about him this time. Unlike earlier, he was now wild, and passionate, moving in and out of you, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. “That’s a good girl,” He murmured when he noted that you pushed back against him, meeting each one of his thrusts. “That’s it, princess…”

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear and telling you that you belonged to him, “You’re all mine now. All mine.”

You were a moaning mess, holding onto the headboard to keep yourself upright while he pounded into you from behind. His braid had come undone from the ponytail they were in and now tickled your skin as he brushed his warm mouth against your skin.

“No need for the pillow now, baby, you hear me? You can just walk in here and take whatever you want from me,” He gripped your hips and slammed in and out of you, grunting in the process. “Anything you want, you can have it. My hands, my tongue, my cock… it’s all yours, princess.”

The pleasure became too much to handle, and you felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips. His tight grip on your body would surely leave a bruise, but Lewis didn’t care.

“Do you even have an idea of how obsessed I am with you?” He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. His fingers rubbing your clit quickened then. “You feel me deep inside you, baby?”

You nodded, moaning and gasping in pleasure.

“This is how I’m gonna keep you now, always full of me,” He growled, teasing your earlobe while he pounded into your mercilessly.

You whined loudly when both his hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him harshly each time, speeding up until you came all over his cock. It didn’t take him long to come after that, buried deep inside you and filling you up like he’d always dreamt of doing.

You were shivering after he was done with you, whimpering and sore as he pulled both of you down on the bed, pulling you closer to him. He snuggled you until you stopped trembling.

“Did I hurt you, princess?” He asked, kissing your face.

“No,” You murmured. Then shyly added, “Can we do that again?”

Lewis laughed, wrapping you tightly in his arms as you wrapped around him like a koala bear. “Anytime, baby.”

And there you were finally, in his arms.

This wasn’t quite how he had planned it in his head. Lewis had grown envious of his childhood friend. The initial plan was to get rid of your father, earn your trust enough until you handed everything – the properties, the money, the trained guards, all of it – to him, and the final part of the plan was to get rid of you.

Making your father’s death seem natural was easy. But that last part of his plan never happened. It almost did, but then he saw you that day at the cemetery, looking sad, teary-eyed and so, so beautiful.

Things changed then. He still took everything, but didn’t get rid of you. He couldn’t. He was obsessed, and he needed you closer, wanted you living with him and so he found a way to make your family home seem unsafe.

Planting those notes was too easy.

And next thing he knew, you were begging him for help. So he took you in, and kept you. Obedient and needy for him. His princess, now forever. His sins, all of it hidden perfectly.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton smut #mob!lewis #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

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justchillgurl · 25 days ago

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Title: Debt and Dagger Smiles.

Summary: At Kanghak High, she’s the girl everyone turns to—for help, for answers, for secrets. Controlled, calculating, she runs the school from behind her polite smile. Unseen by her, Geum Seong-je starts paying attention—and he doesn’t like what he sees. He likes it too much.

Check this out!@

Author's Note: Welcome to Debt and Dagger Smiles. This story is a slow burn—full of power plays, tension, and the clash between control and chaos. If you're into smart characters, unspoken games, and dangerous chemistry, you're in the right place. Updates will come as inspiration strikes—feel free to leave your thoughts.

Content Warnings: None (for now).

_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_☆_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_☆_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_☆_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠____

Chapter 1: The Balance Sheet.

At Kanghak High, no one held the web of whispers tighter than her.

She walked the halls with a quiet, calculating ease—her uniform always crisp, her eyes always focused, her phone never more than a breath away. Most students thought of her as approachable, reliable, the kind of girl you’d ask for help with a project or directions to the nearest printer. And sometimes, she said yes. But only after calculating the weight of the favor.

Because nothing came free.

She didn’t offer kindness out of softness. Her generosity was strategic. She said yes when it mattered—when the person asking held potential. A future teacher’s pet. A student council officer. Someone whose name would matter on a list. Those who received her help might think they got lucky.

They didn’t.

They were already in her pocket.

She didn’t waste time with the Union. Despite their presence in the school and the vague air of intimidation they carried, she saw them as distractions. She wasn’t trying to control through fists—she was building something smarter. Cleaner.

In her notebook, color-coded and organized to military precision, she kept track of every test date, every exam format, and every student in the top ten. Her grades were near perfect, and she made sure to keep it that way. While others stayed out late or fought behind buildings, she was home by eight sharp. Her family didn’t tolerate disobedience, and she didn’t test their limits.

Not publicly.

What no one knew was that she ran the school blog.

Anonymous. Undefinable. Ruthless.

She didn’t write everything, of course. She barely wrote at all. But she knew what was happening—who was cheating, who was skipping, who was crying behind the lockers. Gossip reached her before it hit group chats. Secrets traveled faster when people trusted you, and she made sure everyone trusted her just enough to slip up.

Geum Seong-je watched her from the corner of the school convenience store.

She didn’t notice him. Not because she wasn’t observant, but because he wasn’t in her circle. Not worth tracking. Not yet.

He’d seen her around, of course. Everyone had. But this was the first time he paid attention.

She stood in front of the drink fridge, scanning the labels like she had a spreadsheet in her head comparing caffeine levels. Her movements were efficient, deliberate. No wasted steps. She picked a small can of black coffee and a rice ball, paid in coins, and dropped the receipt in her bag.

Not once did she smile.

When another student tried to stop her near the exit—some third-year begging for help printing a missing assignment—she tilted her head slightly, brows pinched as if already calculating.

“What do you do again?” she asked.

“I’m vice secretary of—”

“Of the eco club,” she finished. “Right. You owe me. Done. Send me the file. I’ll print it. But you’re collecting survey data for me next month. No complaints.”

The girl nodded quickly.

She walked off without confirming. The favor was made. The debt recorded.

Seong-je didn’t move. He leaned back into the shelf, hood pulled low, watching her disappear past the glass doors.

Interesting.

He’d heard rumors before—of how she always had the answers to tests before they dropped, how her notes circled among the elite students, how she knew when a relationship ended before either person confirmed it. He’d assumed most of it was exaggerated.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

She didn’t just survive in this school.

She ran it—quietly, efficiently, and with terrifying precision.

--------------------------------------------------

End of Chapter 1.

Chapter 1 has been updated to third-person POV.

Thank you for reading🫂.

#geum seong je #geum seongje x reader #wolf keum #weak hero class two #lee junyoung #weak hero x reader #kdrama

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 9 months ago

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Even if the sky was falling

Part II

warning: fighting, blood, sexual tension if you squint, fire and angst… 😈

request: had this thought about azriel xteacher!reader fem or gn if you prefer and reader teaches nyx so the IC interacts with the reader a lot and all love her and think she’d be perfect with az but he’s too much of a wimp to make it official but they are still flirty. basically fate makes him man up when nyx’s class is attacked and reader is trying to protect him and then az saves the day.

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Nyx, as much as he was brave and outgoing with his family, turned into the shell of himself when exposed to people he didn’t know. And while he loved to learn and genuinely was a curious kid, school hadn’t come easy for him. “We would be nowhere close to where we are now if not for Y/n”, Feyre mused once the conversation had once again slipped to Nyx over dinner. “She puts lots of care into looking after him”, Rhys nodded along, “He loves her too”. That had of course peaked Azriel’s curiosity. He didn’t sense danger but you could never trust anyone, especially a stranger, fully. And this was his family he was talking about. One he had sworn to protect.

That’s how the spymaster had found himself slowly walking towards the school. There had still been hours till pick-up time, but he wanted to see you in action. Working that magic of yours and magic he had seen. It had been a beautiful day in Velaris, the sun high in the sky, warm breeze rattling the leaves. The laughter was impossible to miss. It was infectious. Bumping off every surface. In the middle of it stood you, surrounded by ecstatic faces as they swarmed you. Like little bees trying to land on the prettiest of flowers.

Azriel still struggled with the concept of care and love. His imagination was wild but he could never imagine a happy childhood. A warm and safe home. He had that now, yes, but to have that from birth? To be loved from the first breath you take. That was foreign to him. So he stood there watching how you spun around in a circle. Clapping your hands to the nursery rimes the kids were belting out. And your smile had made Azriel smile too. Slightly. Ever so slightly making him smile.

“Uncle Az”, Nyx's excited voice had caught up with Azriel when he had finally crossed the schoolyard. With no effort the spymaster had caught the boy with one hand, lifting him onto his shoulder. “Have you been good today, bud”, Azriel patted him on the stomach, making Nyx nod eagerly, “I was, I was really good, right Mrs. Y/n”, his eager purple eyes trailed back to you and Azriel felt as if a goddess was now in front of him. You had been pretty from afar, but up close….

“I don’t know them broccolis, didn’t make it to your mouth did they?”, you raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms over your chest. “You didn’t eat your broccoli?” Azriel looked back at his nephew who was sending silent daggers your way. “They smell like Uncle Cassian’s farts”, the boy whined. The silence felt for a moment as Azriel turned to glance at you, for some reason feeling the need to apologize for Nyx’s words only to catch a big smile. And within the heartbeat, both of you had burst out laughing. “Go get yourself a bun, you little devil”, Azriel shook his head, letting the boy down.

The promise of a sweet bun had delighted him but Nux still turned to you first. Running to hug your knees as he glanced up at you. “Till tomorrow, Y/n”, he mused, that Rhys’s smile on his face now. “You say hi to your parents from me”, your fingers threaded through his hair. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow”, you mussed, bending down to cup his cheek before kissing the top of his head, watching as he ran off towards the stand, Azriel’s shadows twirling alongside him.

“So, the day has come”, you mussed attention now fixed on the Illyrian in front of you. “I have no idea what you are talking about Mrs. Y/n”, Azriel's firm tone found you. “I saw you in the field, the tree was big but you were bigger”, You narrowed your eyes at him. And he thought he was smooth out there. “You sure know how to flatter a male”, Azriel mussed, crossing his arms over his chest, the toned tattooed muscles gleaming, “Nothing rubs my ego more than being called big”.

You let out a gasp, clipping him on the side with one hand, “Watch your mouth”, you shushed him, “There are kids here”. But now standing so close to him, you could feel the way your heart picked up. He was beautiful. Mother, every woman in Velaris probably had brought herself to an orgasm just thinking about the spymaster. “What would they say if they knew what their teacher was thinking about just now”, his words felt like a cold bucket, yet your cheeks bloomed red. “You’re no mind reader”, you scoffed, “Ego pressing on the little brain?”. Azriel caught your wrist, pinning it behind your back. Another gasp slipped past your lips as his chest pressed against you, “But I can smell it”, he mussed, “Come have dinner with me”. You couldn’t help but laugh, “Nice try”, you muttered. “I’ll fly you over myself if I have to”, Azriel warned. “Maybe you’ll have to come more often”, you made sure the enfaces the third to last word, causing Azriel to let out a lower chuckle, “You’re dangerous”, “Yet you are here”, you beamed at him.

It had stayed like this. This push and pull. Push and pull for weeks. Azriel had become accustomed to picking Nyx up almost every day. It was his easy pass to see you. Even if every time he walked through the gates he was met with an eye roll from you. And while you loved to prod and poke each other there had always been a sense of ease. As if finally someone had seen him. On some nights Azriel even found himself sharing the gruesome side of his job. And it had been your soft hands that had coxed him back to safety. Your eyes that had managed to see through the debris and find the truth beneath it all.

A light smile hadn’t left his face ever since and now as he finished the last bits of work for the day, he couldn’t wait to go get you. Drop Nyx home and spend the evening together. Just you and him. That was until something flashed across the sky. Azriel frowned pushing his chair back. Just he didn’t make it far as a loud explosion rattled the buildings. Alarms rang through the city as people started screaming outside. He was about to rush through the doors when his shadows slammed right into him. Bringing with them the sound of screaming. Children screaming. Women screaming. And a familiar voice there. Your voice and his whole body ran cold.

Everything had died down after that, all Azriel heard was static as he winnowed in front of a burning building. Some figures draped in black swirled around the school. Daggers in hand. His soldiers were already there, falling like stars from the sky. But all Azriel could think of was you and Nyx, somewhere there in the burning building. His feet moved faster than his mind as he hit the jammed door with his shoulder, breaking it in the first time. The ashen face of an elderly woman was the first thing he saw, and a litter of kids with faces shoved against her skirt in hopes of breathing as little fumes as possible.

“Come on, my man will keep you safe”, he reached out, steadying her and then counting up the little ones. “Who else is here?”, he asked through the crackling. “Upstairs”, she sobbed, “Please”. Azriel’s head snapped to the stairs. The broken down stair that had no doubt made it impossible for the ones upstairs to leave.

He could feel heartbeats. Racking through them to find a familiar one. And then a scream tore through the walls. Nyx’s name and… He was winnowing up. Ripping door after door he searched for the place you both had to be in. Eyes burning from the smoke. “Hand him over”, a thick voice snarled. “Fuck yourself and bend over”, you wheezed. Azriel’s boot came in contact with the center of the last door. And there you were a broken glass in hand as you shoved Nyx behind you. And an ill-looking male with a bloodied sword in front of you. Azriel’s shadows swarmed him, drowning the male in the dark as they pushed through every possible way into his body, the screams filling the small space. You turned back, clasping your hands around Nyx, pressing his face into your chest so he would not have to see it. It was in the infamous spymaster in front of you, in his real and lethal form as he stepped over the body trashing beneath him. His fingers that so carefully held you now gripped the jaw of the man who had threatened your life, Nyx’s life.

“You owe me a handful of breaths”, Azriel muttered against his ear, “And I will make you pay for them. You’ll wish you never breathed at all”, the coldness poured out of him. And if not for the coughs that slipped from Nyx’s lips you were sure that Azriel wouldn’t have moved from his spot. But his head snapped to the side, the complete darkness leaving his eyes. His shadows moved around you, offering you both oxygen. In two steps he had crossed the distance between you two. In two steps that had made you curl deeper into yourself as you held onto Nyx.

Azriel's jaw flexed as he watched you recoil from him. He felt your fear, it was all over. “I will not hurt you”, he muttered, “I’ll just get you both out”, his voice was back to the honey cone smoothness, as his hand wrapped around your shoulder. “Uncle Az”, Nyx choked out. “Try to breathe as little as possible, buddy”, Azriel’s palm cupped the back of Nyx’s head, “it will all be over soon”.

It felt almost like waking up from a nightmare. The fog cleared up. Air returning to your lungs. The light of flames was replaced by the sun. There was much more noise here. The screaming. You blinked to see parents looking for their kids. Mother’s weeping. “Mom”, Nyx pushed against your chest but you clung to him, “Daddy”, his voice broke. You felt him trashing in your arms but you couldn’t let go. Warm hands slid over your hands, gently pulling them apart, “He’s safe, you kept him safe”, Azriel’s voice flooded your mind. You watch Nyx’s trembling legs crossing the distance between him and his parents. The high lord falling to his knees as he wrapped the little boy in his arms. Your legs bucked, only to be met with a firm grasp on your hips as you collapsed into Azriel’s embrace.

“I’ve got you”, he muttered, “You are safe, my love, no one will hurt you”. You looked up, feeling the sting in your eyes, “Azriel”, you breathed. “I know”, he nodded, brushing the strand of your hair away from your face. You watched him for a moment, dizziness creeping in. Until your gaze darted down slowly, where warmth had been gathering all this time. “What is it?”, Azriel asked as his eyes followed yours. You heard the breath hitching in his throat before his palm pressed against your abdomen. Somewhere deep in your consciousness, you knew that you should have screamed out. But as you watched crimson seeping through his fingers you almost felt as if this body wasn’t yours.

“Y/n, my love, can you hear me”, Azriel’s worried eyes watched you, “Fuck”, cursing he looked around in panic, “Fuck, someone, please we need a healer here”. You felt Azriel’s hand slowly brushing against your back as he lowered you onto the grass. “Keep your eyes on me”, he pleaded, “Let me see your pretty eyes, I missed them so much today, did you know that?”, he was rambling you noted, something he never did. But you nodded anyway, “I missed you”, you muttered right back as his eyes snapped to the side. He was searching for a healer you did not doubt it. “Azriel”, you breathed out, but he didn’t budge. “Az”, you muttered, bringing your shaky palm to cup his cheek.

“Don’t you dare do this to me”, he whined through gritted teeth. “Come closer”, you muttered, feeling the way his hand dug into the wound on your side. But he followed your wishes this time, leaning closer till your foreheads were pressed together. “Tell me something you haven’t told me before”, you muttered, feeling your eyelids getting heavy. Azriel nuzzled against your cheek and you could feel his tears brushing onto your skin. “I love you”, he breathed, “I’m in love with you”, that was enough to make your heart leap up, tugging at the feeling so familiar, ancient, and deep. “And I love you”, you smiled at him, “Even if the sky falls and till my last breath then”, you felt him pulling back then, pulling at the thread joining you as one. You tugged as hard as your body allowed you, watching his golden eyes till your eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. Till you were sure the whole earth rattled as Azriel screamed.

#azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #acotar azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction

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leilaniluvss · 5 months ago

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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤! 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐖: 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓, 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄, 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐗, 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘, 𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

Btw this is my first time writing and everything so sorry of this sucks btw

𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿, you always been treated wrong by sasuke ever since pre-school it all started over a stupid joke. “Forehead girl, Forehead girl!” The class then starts to laugh at sasuke towards you causing you to run out the class. You even heard the teacher snicker. But you never thought it could get worse from there. Your books would start missing, Notes would be ripped, Certain school supplies would be gone. Small things started to turn into big things. You’ll never forget how 3rd grade you had your first friend but he was a male.

The little boy name was Micheal. “Why are you sitting by yourself?” You turn to him and simply respond shrugging your shoulders “Don’t nobody wanna be friend cause they make fun of my forehead and laugh at me.” Micheal then lift up his hand putting it on your forehead. “I think it’s pretty” He said looking up smiling at me. I then just sit there looking at him. “Wanna be best friends?” I then just nod my head deciding to trust him. From that day on bonds were made. He was always there for you, He stood up to Sasuke when no once couldn’t, He helped you throughout times your struggle. Until one faithful day a person caused your bonds to break. Running into the lunchroom you hear people enchanting the word “FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!” Ruining into the crowd your jaw drops seeing Micheal snd Sasuke fighting. And oh boy did Micheal got the shit beaten out of him. Sasuke then gets up his punches still connecting to Micheal face his nose was bloody, mouth bleeding, he then proceeds to start kicking him in the gut. I then stand there horrified at the scene until security guards break up the fight. You go immediately visit Micheal at the hospital but wasn’t welcomed. “Im sorry Y/n but I-i can’t be befriends with you anymore not after what happened.” Meanwhile hearing the argument between you and Micheal Sasuke stands next to the door smirking to yourself. Without your Best friend by your side you were left alone AGAIN. When you took it up with the principal at the parents teacher conference nothing really got resolved his family seemed to have their ways causing the bullying to continue on.

But the last final straw was when your mom had passed away after that Y/n was never seen from again. Until she goes to a new high school called Konoha high school, but this school is expensive to be in so the only way Y/n had get in was because the principal felt guilty and was able to convince the rich school as to why you could go. And without having to pay for anything you was able to get in. When you took a tour around the school you could see why it was popular and expensive it had dorms, sports, trips and many more.

This could be a new start you thought yourself. "I've already made a new friends started classes yet!" Sakura laughed.

"Really??" You asked. If Sakura was making friends this quickly, maybe it would be okay for you. “Yeah you’ll eventually meet them to like Ino, tenten, Hinata,Temari, They’re really helpful and on the cheer team!”

“Cheer team?” I asked curiously. “Could I try out?” Sakura nods her head. “It’s a long list and hard try outs but I’ll add you, you could probably be co captain if you do well, so just meet me after school for the tryouts.” She then goes on snd starts talking about other boys

"Yeah! And there's sooo many cute guys here! Like Sasuke, Naruto,Shikamaru, Choji, although Sai is straight up fugly."

"Wait wait wait- did you just say sasuke?” Your thoughts ran in circle thinking about him of seeing him after all these years. “He’s so handsome but IVE never date him tho HES just a red flag.” Sakura said getting back to the point. “Anyway do you know him or something?” She asked curiously. I then take a deep breathe explaining what happend between me and him when we was little. “Oh Im sorry that happend to you he could really be a big ass jerk sometimes.” She said comforting me.

“I did what?” A deep slant voice said. Your stomach dropped hearing the voice after many years. As you turned around to look at him he grown more better. His hair strands was more black and longer, He had muscles and broad shoulders, and he was much more taller than you. He looked at you in a moment before scanning and after his eyes widen seeing me. He then smirks, “Yo long time no see Y/n.” You chuckled nervously looking at him. “Yeah long time no see to you to sasuke.” With the tension in the between YALL 3 he apologizes for what happened and offer for me to hang with him at lunch and sakura I was hesitant at first but then agreed.

At lunch Sakura leaded you to there table as you sat down with your tray of food. You at there nervously until Sakura came with you just by looking at you she could tell your nervousness and was there to comfort you. As you sat down People at the table started laughing at you. Sakura whipped her head at them snapping at them. “What’s so funny?” They then pointed to your seat and when you got up it was a big red spot on your skirt. You gasp horribly getting up out of your seat running off. Sasuke snickered. “Always running off like a pussycat.” Sakura then runs after me. “Hey hey it’s ok calm down” other girls then came in running after me. “Oh and by the way Thats tenten with the two buns, Temari is with the blonde pigtails and ini is with the blonde ponytail and and Hinata is with the purple hair.

“By the way did you sign up to have dorms cause if you did they said for the schedule you have it with us” Temari speaks. “Yeah I signed up but I don’t know where the dorms are actually.” They then grab me showing me to dorms basically welcoming me into their friend group. Now to explain the side of these dorms we have boys and girls. We then walk into the big dorms while we look on the other side we see that the boy sides is well very dirty. Ten ten chuckles nervously. “DONT mind that side Thats where sasuke, Naruto, shikamaru, and chino stay at.” They then grab me introducing me to my dorm room. “So who will be my dorm mate?” Sakura then squeals “I’ll be your roommate!” She then shows me our dorms. “Sorry if you don’t like it I think I kinda over decorated it.”

“No no it’s fine.” I said looking at the room. But because it’s after school Sakura decided to take me out to cheer tryouts. Of course Hinata and the rest of them are on the cheer team.

Sasuke Uchiha.

Even from across the gym, you could feel his piercing onyx eyes on you, as if he’d already recognized you despite the years that had passed. His expression was unreadable, but you could practically sense the simmering arrogance radiating from him.

The memories hit you like a wave. Sasuke had made your life hell when you were kids, teasing you relentlessly. He’d mocked everything about you—your clothes, your voice, even your dreams. It wasn’t just childish teasing; his words had cut deep. You thought you’d left all of that behind when you moved, but here he was, as smug and intimidating as ever.

“Earth to Y/n,” Sakura’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She followed your gaze to the basketball team, where Sasuke was now laughing with Naruto, Shikamaru, and Choji. “Oh. Yeah, he’s still as much of a jerk as ever. Don’t let him get to you.”

You nodded, shaking off the uneasy feeling and focusing on the tryouts. You were determined to nail this.

The basketball team was mid-practice when Sasuke finally looked over at the cheer tryouts. He recognized you immediately, even though it had been years. You looked… different now. More confident. Stronger. He couldn’t explain why seeing you here irked him so much.

“Yo, Sasuke,” Naruto called, tossing him the ball. “You good?”

“Hn,” Sasuke grunted, brushing it off. But his eyes flicked back to you, watching as you executed a perfect tumbling pass, your hair catching the light.

Naruto followed his gaze and grinned. “Oh, is that [Name]? Sakura’s friend? She just transferred here, right? She’s cute.”

Sasuke scowled, gripping the ball tighter. “Tch. She’s nothing special.”

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“Drop it,” Sasuke snapped, shoving past them to make a layup. But even as he practiced, his mind kept drifting back to you.

By the time tryouts were over, you were exhausted but exhilarated. You’d made it onto the squad, and your friends were cheering you on.

“Congrats!” Temari said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re gonna dominate this season.”

As you all walked out of the gym, you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you found Sasuke leaning casually against the wall, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here pussycat,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

Your heart sank. “Sasuke.”

He smirked, that same infuriating smirk you remembered from years ago. “Still as annoying as ever, huh? Thought you’d finally crawl back to whatever hole you came from.”

Your hands clenched into fists, but Sakura stepped in before you could say anything. “Back off, Sasuke,” she said sharply. “She doesn’t have time for your crap.”

“Relax, I was just saying hi,” Sasuke said, his smirk widening as he pushed off the wall and walked away.

You watched him go, your chest tightening with frustration. It was clear that Sasuke hadn’t changed one bit.

But this time, you weren’t a scared kid anymore. If he thought he could walk all over you like before, he was in for a rude awakening.

As Sasuke walked away, he felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smirk, though his mind was anything but calm. You. Of all people, you were back in his life. And, worse, you weren’t the meek, easily-flustered little girl he used to toy with for fun. No, this new version of you—confident, beautiful, and unapologetically fiery—was different.

It pissed him off.

What makes her think she can waltz in here like she owns the place? he thought, his fists tightening in his pockets. He could still hear Sakura’s sharp tone defending you, and it made his blood boil. You didn’t need her protection. If anything, you needed to be reminded of your place.

When Sasuke reached the locker room, his teammates were already there, laughing and joking, but their chatter blurred into white noise. He leaned against the cool metal of the lockers, his head tipped back, eyes closing as frustration gnawed at him. But beneath the irritation, there was something darker—a sense of possession he couldn’t shake.

She thinks she’s untouchable now, doesn’t she? The thought made his lips curl into a sneer.

Images of you flashed in his mind, unbidden and vivid. That cheer uniform hugging your curves, the determined glint in your eyes as you performed—too confident for your own good. You weren’t the girl he used to knock down with a few harsh words. No, you’d grown up into someone more… challenging.

And he hated how much he wanted to break that confidence.

What would it take to see her crack? The idea gripped him, spiraling into something darker. Maybe he’d pull you aside after practice, just the two of you, his words sharp and biting until you finally dropped that fiery attitude. He’d corner you in the empty halls, his presence looming until you couldn’t look him in the eye, and then—then you’d realize you hadn’t outgrown him, not really.

He imagined the way your breath would hitch if he leaned too close, his voice low and taunting as he whispered things only he could say to you. The way you’d look at him, defiant at first, but eventually… You’d understand you were his to torment. His to claim.

His jaw clenched, and he slammed a fist into the locker, the metallic clang silencing the room.

“Damn, Sasuke, what’s your problem?” Naruto asked, eyeing him warily from across the room.

“Nothing,” Sasuke snapped, his voice cold.

“Yeah, right. You’ve been acting weird since [Name] showed up,” Naruto continued, undeterred. “What, still holding a grudge? Or…” His grin widened. “You’re into her, aren’t you?”

Sasuke’s glare could’ve frozen fire. “Shut up, idiot.”

Naruto laughed, but Shikamaru raised an eyebrow from his spot on the bench. “You know, if you’re this worked up, maybe she’s the one getting under your skin this time.”

That comment earned a snarl. Sasuke shoved past them, heading straight for the showers, the cold spray doing little to cool the heat coursing through him.

I’ll remind her who I am, he thought darkly, his lips curving into a cruel smirk as water dripped down his face. She might think she’s untouchable now, but I’ll fix that.

The game was far from over. And Sasuke always won.

The weekend rolled in with bright skies and an air of excitement. You were out on the campus lawn with your friend group, laughing and chatting as you enjoyed the rare break from classes and cheer practice. Sakura, Temari, TenTen, and Hinata surrounded you, their energy infectious as they talked about their upcoming plans.

But what made the day even better was your boyfriend, Kaito. He was sweet, charming, and attentive in a way that made you feel cherished—a stark contrast to certain people you’d rather not think about. Kaito had been quick to approach you when you transferred, drawn to your wit and personality. It didn’t take long for the two of you to hit it off. Now, here you were, sitting next to him with his arm draped casually over your shoulder, his easy smile making your cheeks warm.

“You’re lucky,” Temari teased with a smirk, nudging your side. “Kaito’s got half the school crushing on him, and he’s here doting on you.”

You laughed, leaning into his warmth. “Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just lucky.”

Across the campus, Sasuke stood with his own group, his sharp eyes locked on you. Naruto was busy teasing Hinata, who had wandered over to join him, while Shikamaru had his arm slung lazily around Temari. Choji was munching on chips as usual, and TenTen was laughing about something with Neji.

But Sasuke? His mood was dark.

“Damn,” Naruto said, elbowing Sasuke. “You’ve been staring at her all afternoon. You’re gonna burn a hole through her or something.”

“Shut up, Naruto,” Sasuke growled, but his glare didn’t waver. The sight of Kaito sitting so close to you, his hand on your shoulder like he had any right to touch you—it made his blood boil.

Shikamaru, leaning against a tree, raised an eyebrow. “You’re sulking because she’s got a boyfriend, huh? Thought you didn’t care about her.”

“I don’t,” Sasuke snapped. His fist clenched, though, betraying his calm tone. “But she’s making a fool of herself with that guy. He’s not good enough for her.”

Shikamaru smirked, clearly amused. “And who is? You?”

“Tch.” Sasuke turned away, his jaw tightening. “Forget it.”

Later that afternoon, you excused yourself from the group to grab a water bottle from the vending machines near the gym. The hallways were quiet, the distant echoes of basketball practice barely audible. You were about to turn the corner when a hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you into an empty hallway.

“Hey—what the hell?” you yelped, your heart racing until you saw who it was.

Sasuke.

His dark eyes bore into yours, his grip firm but not painful. The air between you felt heavy, his towering presence pinning you in place.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

You yanked your arm free, glaring up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“That guy.” His words were practically spat out. “Kaito. You think he actually cares about you?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “And what would you know about it, Sasuke? You don’t know him, and you sure as hell don’t know me anymore.”

His smirk was anything but friendly. “Oh, I know you, [Name]. Better than he does. Better than he ever will.”

“Get over yourself,” you snapped, stepping back. But he followed, his presence overwhelming.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his tone dark and possessive. “You think Kaito’s gonna protect you? Keep you safe?”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me,” you shot back. “Least of all you.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by something colder. “Just remember this, [Name]. If he screws up, I’ll be there. And don’t think for a second I’ll let you forget who you belong to.”

You felt your blood boil. “I don’t belong to anyone, least of all you, Sasuke. So stay out of my life.”

You shoved past him, your heart pounding as you hurried down the hall. Sasuke returned to the court, his mood even darker than before. Naruto was the first to notice.

“What’s with you now?” he asked, dribbling the ball lazily.

Sasuke leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowing. “She’s wasting her time with that idiot. I don’t get what she sees in him.”

“You’re jealous,” Shikamaru said simply, his tone bored but amused.

“I’m not jealous,” Sasuke bit out.

“Yeah, sure,” Naruto said with a grin. “That’s why you’re acting like someone stole your favorite toy.”

Sasuke glared at him, but Shikamaru only smirked. “If you’re so bothered by it, why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Sasuke scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

“None of your business,” Sasuke muttered.

“You’re acting like a psycho,” Shikamaru said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “You want her? Fine. But this whole ‘bully her until she comes running’ thing isn’t gonna work.”

Sasuke’s smirk was sharp, dangerous. “She’ll come around.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Naruto pressed, genuinely curious.

Sasuke’s eyes darkened, his voice low and venomous. “Then I’ll make her.”

The room fell silent, his words lingering like a threat. Sasuke leaned back, arms crossed as his teammates exchanged wary glances. No one dared to challenge him, not when his mind was set.

Because when Sasuke Uchiha wanted something, he always got it.

The energy in the gymnasium reached a fever pitch as students from both schools filled the bleachers for homecoming. The court gleamed under the bright lights, the cheers of the crowd blending into an electrifying roar. It was basketball players against basketball players, cheerleaders against cheerleaders, and everyone was here to win.

The home team’s basketball lineup was stacked: Sasuke, Naruto, Shikamaru, Choji, Neji, and Kiba. Each of them wore determined expressions as they warmed up on the court, the pride of their school riding on their shoulders.

The cheer squad, led by you, was just as ready. Alongside you were Sakura, Temari, Hinata, TenTen, Ino, and Karin, all dressed in matching uniforms that sparkled in the gym lights. The six of you had been practicing nonstop for weeks, and now it was time to show off your hard work. The first half of the basketball game was intense. Sasuke led the charge with sharp precision, his movements fluid and calculated as he dominated the court. Naruto’s energy was infectious, his quick passes and layups keeping the crowd on their feet. Shikamaru’s strategic plays, Kiba’s aggressive defense, Neji’s perfect aim, and Choji’s sheer power kept the opposing team on their toes.

Every time one of them scored, you and the cheer squad erupted into choreographed chants and routines, pumping up the crowd with your high-flying stunts and sharp moves.

The rival cheer squad was just as fierce, matching your energy with routines of their own. But the moment came for the halftime cheer battle, and the gym fell silent with anticipation.

The rival squad went first, nailing a routine filled with flips, basket tosses, and tight formations that left the crowd roaring.

But when it was your turn, you and your squad brought the fire. From the moment the music started, you hit every move with precision. Temari and Sakura nailed their tumbling passes, Hinata’s flyer stunts were flawless, and TenTen’s powerful jumps drew cheers from the crowd. You and Ino closed the routine with a jaw-dropping stunt, hitting the perfect scorpion pose at the peak of a basket toss.

When your routine ended, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and it was clear your squad had stolen the show.

“Hell yeah!” Naruto yelled from the bench, pumping his fist in the air.

“Of course, we crushed them,” Temari said confidently, high-fiving you as you returned to the sidelines.

Everything was perfect. Or so you thought. As you grabbed a water bottle, laughing with your friends about your routine, your eyes scanned the gym for your boyfriend, Kaito. But what you saw made your stomach drop.

Kaito was standing near the bleachers with one of the rival team’s cheerleaders, a girl in a red and black uniform. They were laughing together, her hand resting on his chest in a way that made your skin crawl.

And then he kissed her.

Your bottle slipped from your hand, clattering to the floor. The noise drew the attention of your friends, who followed your gaze.

“No way,” Ino whispered, her jaw dropping.

“That bastard,” Temari hissed, her eyes narrowing.

Sakura’s hand flew to her mouth. “I can’t believe him.”

Even Hinata, usually so kind and quiet, frowned deeply. “How could he do that to you?”

On the court, Sasuke had seen the whole thing. His dark eyes narrowed as he tracked the scene, his grip on the basketball tightening.

“Looks like Kaito’s showing his true colors,” Shikamaru said lazily, though his sharp gaze lingered on you.

Naruto’s brows furrowed. “What the hell? That’s messed up. Poor [Name].”

Kiba growled under his breath. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

Sasuke said nothing, but the dark look in his eyes spoke volumes. He wasn’t angry for you—no, it was more selfish than that. He was furious that Kaito had dared to think he could have you in the first place. Despite the betrayal, the halftime performance couldn’t wait. You wiped your eyes quickly, forcing yourself to focus as the music started. Your movements were sharp, your smile forced but unshaken as you executed the routine perfectly.

Sakura placed a hand on your shoulder as you transitioned to the next formation, her eyes full of silent support. Temari took the lead on a tumbling pass, her fierce energy spurring the crowd into cheers. Ino and Hinata executed their stunts flawlessly, while TenTen added a powerful jump combination that brought the house down.

You finished the routine with a show-stopping pyramid, standing tall at the top despite the ache in your chest.

The crowd erupted into applause, and as you climbed down, Temari whispered, “You’re stronger than this, [Name]. Don’t let him see you break.”

You nodded, your resolve hardening. The boys returned to the court, their energy even fiercer than before. Sasuke played like a man possessed, his movements sharp and unforgiving as he dominated the court. Every time he scored, his dark eyes flicked to you, as if silently daring you to look away.

Naruto matched his energy, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a fiery determination. Kiba and Neji locked down the rival team’s offense, while Choji and Shikamaru coordinated flawless plays.

The game ended with an overwhelming victory for your team, and the gym erupted into cheers.

As you packed up with your friends, you felt a dark presence behind you. Turning, you saw Sasuke, his smirk sharp and his gaze heavy.

“Kaito’s a waste of time,” he said, his voice low so only you could hear. “You know that now, don’t you?”

You glared at him, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It’s none of your business, Sasuke.”

He stepped closer, his smirk deepening. “You’ll see, princess. You’ll forget about him soon enough.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

The weekend had finally arrived, and for once, the group chat was blowing up with excitement. After the chaos of homecoming—the cheer battle, the drama with Kaito, and the aftermath of the game—you and your friends decided it was time for a girls’ day. No boys, no distractions, just you, Sakura, Temari, Ino, Hinata, Karin, and TenTen enjoying each other’s company.

The plan was simple: brunch, shopping, and an all-night movie marathon back at the dorms. The café was warm and cozy, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filling the air as you all gathered around a large corner table.

“I’m still pissed about Kaito,” Temari said bluntly, stabbing her fork into a stack of pancakes. “Seriously, what kind of idiot cheats during homecoming? In front of half the school, no less.”

You sighed, swirling your straw in your iced coffee. “I’d rather not talk about him, honestly. I’m over it.”

“Good,” Ino said with a flip of her hair. “Because he’s not worth your time. If you ask me, he was holding you back anyway.”

“I agree,” Hinata said softly, offering you a kind smile. “You deserve someone who respects you.”

“Or no one at all!” Karin added with a smirk. “Who needs guys, anyway? They’re all trouble.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sakura teased, leaning back in her chair. “Some of us have boyfriends who aren’t jerks.”

“Yeah, how’s Mr. Random these days?” Temari asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sakura laughed. “He’s fine, thanks for asking. But let’s not make this about me. What’s our shopping plan?” The mall was buzzing with life, and the seven of you wasted no time diving into your favorite stores.

“Try this on!” Ino exclaimed, holding up a sparkly dress in your direction.

“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing as she shoved it into your arms anyway.

Temari and TenTen were busy sorting through racks of jackets, debating the merits of leather versus denim, while Karin inspected a display of sunglasses.

Hinata, ever the quiet one, was browsing through a rack of cozy sweaters, her cheeks pink from all the attention she kept drawing.

“Sasuke’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this,” Sakura whispered to you with a sly grin as you held up a fitted outfit in the mirror.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dressing for him.”

“Uh-huh, sure you’re not,” Ino teased, nudging you.

“Leave her alone,” Hinata said gently, though her smile was teasing. “Let her have fun without thinking about him for once.”

You appreciated the support, even if the thought of Sasuke had been lingering in the back of your mind. He’d been acting stranger than usual lately, and the tension between you two was undeniable. By the time you returned to the dorms, your arms were full of shopping bags, and everyone was buzzing with excitement for the movie marathon.

Temari and TenTen set up snacks, a mix of popcorn, chips, and candy spread across the coffee table. Karin queued up the movies, while Hinata and Ino fussed over blankets and pillows, making the space as comfortable as possible.

“Alright,” Sakura said, plopping onto the couch with a tub of ice cream. “What are we watching first?”

“Something scary,” Temari suggested, her grin mischievous.

“No way!” Hinata protested, clutching a pillow to her chest.

“How about a rom-com?” Ino suggested, earning groans from half the group.

In the end, you settled on an action-packed blockbuster, complete with explosions and dramatic one-liners. The room was filled with laughter and playful banter as you all got comfortable, the stress of the past week melting away. Somewhere between the second and third movie, the conversation shifted.

“Do you ever think about what life would’ve been like if we weren’t all so… competitive?” Sakura asked, her voice soft.

Temari snorted. “Boring, that’s for sure.”

“I like the way things are now,” TenTen said, stretching. “We might argue sometimes, but we’ve got each other’s backs.”

Karin nodded. “Yeah. Even when things suck—like [Name] dealing with Kaito—we stick together.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I couldn’t ask for better friends.”

Hinata reached over to squeeze your hand. “And we’ll always be here for you.”

As the night wore on, you felt lighter than you had in weeks. The drama with Kaito, the tension with Sasuke—it all seemed so far away when you were surrounded by your friends.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you wouldn’t face them alone. The next day you actually decide to go with Sakura idea with changing yourself

Sakura, Ino, and Temari had practically dragged you into their rooms earlier, determined to give you a “makeover.”

“Okay, this is perfect,” Temari said, holding up a black halter crop top and a pair of low-rise jeans with a statement belt.

“Add these,” Ino said, handing over a pair of silver hoop earrings, a Dior necklace, and sleek sunglasses.

“And don’t forget the Prada bag!” Sakura chimed in, holding up a chic black purse.

“You have to wear these heels too,” Hinata said shyly, placing strappy black stilettos at your feet.

You stared at the collection of clothes and accessories, feeling both nervous and excited. “Are you sure about this?”

“Stop doubting yourself!” Ino said, practically shoving you toward the bathroom. “Trust us—you’ll look incredible.”

When you finally stepped out of the bathroom, the girls’ reactions were instantaneous.

“Holy crap,” Temari said, giving an impressed whistle.

“Shut up, you look like a celebrity,” Sakura said, her eyes wide with approval.

“Seriously, [Name],” Ino added, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re going to make jaws drop.”

You turned to the mirror, and your breath hitched. The sleek black halter top paired perfectly with the low-rise jeans, accentuating your curves without overdoing it. The accessories tied everything together, giving the outfit a polished, glamorous look, and the strappy heels added just the right amount of height.

For the first time in a while, you felt bold, confident—unstoppable.

“Okay,” you said with a shy smile, “you win. I love it.” Walking into school that day felt like something out of a dream. The moment you stepped into the main building, the atmosphere shifted. Heads turned, conversations paused, and a ripple of whispers followed your every step.

“Is that [Name]?” someone murmured.

“Damn, she looks so good,” another voice said.

You kept your head high, the confidence from your new look radiating with every step. It wasn’t about the attention—it was about how you felt. And for the first time in a long while, you felt completely in control.

When you met up with your cheer squad in the courtyard, their reactions were just as enthusiastic.

“You actually did it!” Sakura exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “I told you you’d look amazing.”

“You’re killing it,” Karin said, adjusting her own sunglasses.

“Everyone’s talking about you,” Temari said with a smirk.

Hinata blushed, offering you a soft smile. “You look… stunning.”

TenTen nodded in agreement. “This is a total power move. I’m here for it.”

As the girls hyped you up, you couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you belonged—confident, carefree, and surrounded by the best friends you could ever ask for. new outfit, it was like the air shifted. Every hallway you entered became unnervingly quiet as heads turned and eyes followed your every step. You were oblivious to it all, smiling and waving at familiar faces as you made your way to class, but the boys? They weren’t subtle.

“Yo, [Name]!” Kiba’s voice rang out behind you as you reached for your locker. You turned, surprised to see him practically jogging toward you with a cocky grin on his face.

“You look… different today,” he said, his eyes roaming your outfit unapologetically. “I like it. Maybe you’d let me take you out sometime?” The day had started like any other: tense, unpredictable, and exhausting. Ever since you had transferred to Konoha High, it had been like living in a nightmare, and the devil running it all was Sasuke Uchiha. He wasn’t just the school’s star athlete or the handsome boy every girl fawned over—he was untouchable. The heir to the Uchiha family, the wealthiest and most dangerous mafia in the region, Sasuke owned the school. Literally.

It started small—your textbooks disappearing, your locker being tampered with. Then it escalated. Falsely being accused of cheating on a major test, only for the principal to call you into his office, pretending to be “concerned” while Sasuke stood smugly behind him.

“I saw her,” Sasuke had said, his tone calm but full of venom. “She had notes hidden in her lap. I figured someone like her wouldn’t be smart enough to pass on her own.”

Your protests had fallen on deaf ears, and while you weren’t formally punished, the damage to your reputation was done. Sasuke always made sure of it.

You blinked at him, confused. “Take me out? Like, to lunch?”

Kiba chuckled, stepping closer, his tone dropping to something lower. “Sure, lunch… or whatever else you’d like.”

“Oh! Um, thanks, but I think I’m okay,” you replied, smiling politely but completely missing his insinuation.

Before Kiba could press further, Sai appeared, sliding in smoothly with his usual unreadable smirk. “Kiba, you’re coming on too strong,” Sai said, his voice calm but condescending.

“Mind your business,” Kiba snapped, glaring at him.

Sai ignored him, his sharp gaze fixed on you. “Don’t let him bother you, [Name]. You look stunning today. Really… captivating.” His words made your stomach twist, though you couldn’t place why.

“Oh, um, thank you, Sai,” you mumbled, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why don’t I walk you to class?” Sai offered, taking a step closer.

“I was talking to her first!” Kiba cut in, stepping between you and Sai.

The two boys squared off, each sizing the other up like you were some kind of prize to be won. You took a step back, unsure how to handle the sudden tension. Now, you were standing in one of the school’s storage closets, the faint scent of cleaning supplies and dust filling your nose. The problem? You hadn’t willingly walked in here.

It had been another one of Sasuke’s “games.” He’d cornered you during lunch, his dark eyes gleaming with malicious amusement.

“What do you want?” you’d demanded, clutching your tray tightly.

“To talk,” he had said smoothly before leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “In private.”

You had tried to refuse, but it didn’t matter. Within moments, he’d dragged you down an empty hallway, ignoring your protests and shoving you into the closet. The sound of the lock clicking into place sent a wave of panic through you.

“Sasuke!” you yelled, pounding on the door. “Let me out!”

On the other side, you could hear his deep chuckle, full of mockery.

“Not until you say ‘please,’” he taunted.

“I’m serious! This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, but it is,” he replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’ve been walking around like you own the place lately, acting like you’re untouchable. I think you need a reminder of who’s really in charge here.”

Your hands balled into fists, tears of frustration prickling at your eyes. “What is wrong with you? Why do you keep doing this to me?”

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his tone colder this time. “Because I can. And because you need to learn that no one crosses an Uchiha.”

You slumped against the door, the weight of his words sinking in. There was no point in fighting him. No matter how much you wanted to report him, no one would believe you. The teachers, the principal—even the other students—they were all under his family’s thumb. Eventually, he opened the door, his smirk as sharp as a knife. You tried to shove past him, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back into the room.

“Not so fast,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You think you can just walk away?”

“Let me go,” you snapped, trying to wrench your arm free, but his grip was ironclad.

He stepped closer, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You’re so naive, you know that? Always acting like you’re better than me. Like you don’t notice the way people look at you.”

You froze as his free hand brushed against your waist, his touch lingering for far too long.

“Stop it,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Why?” he asked, leaning in so his breath tickled your ear. “You don’t seem to mind when other guys look at you. Or is it just me you have a problem with?”

Your stomach twisted in disgust as his hand moved up to your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re pathetic,” he said, though his tone was almost… possessive. “Thinking you can escape me. Thinking you can avoid me.”

He finally released you, but not before brushing his fingers along your jaw. “Get used to it, [Name]. No one’s going to save you from me.” By the time you escaped his grip, you were trembling, anger and humiliation boiling inside you. But as you made your way to class, it was obvious nothing would change.

When you told Sakura and the others what had happened, they listened with concern but eventually fell silent, exchanging nervous glances.

“What?” you asked, your voice breaking.

“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Sakura said carefully, her eyes flickering to the side. “It’s just… it’s Sasuke. He gets away with everything.”

“Why doesn’t anyone do anything about it?”

“Because they’re scared,” Hinata whispered, her voice barely audible. “His family… they have too much power. Even the police don’t interfere with them.”

You wanted to scream, to cry, but you didn’t. Instead, you steeled yourself, determined not to let him break you.

But Sasuke wasn’t done. He never was. It wasn’t just the bullying. It was the way he always seemed to be watching you, his dark gaze following your every move. The way he’d corner you in empty hallways, his hands brushing against you as he whispered cruel taunts in your ear.

“You’re too soft,” he’d say, his tone mocking. “You’ll never survive here without me.”

You hated him. But more than that, you hated how powerless you felt.

Because in this school, Sasuke Uchiha wasn’t just a bully. He was a king. And no one defied him without paying the price.

The venue was breathtaking—an opulent mansion owned by the family of one of Sasuke’s basketball teammates. It wasn’t just any house; it was the kind of place you’d only see in movies. Ornate chandeliers lit the massive hallways, and floor-to-ceiling windows gave a view of the sprawling backyard, complete with a pool glowing under string lights. Music pulsed through the walls, heavy bass vibrating in the air, blending with the hum of laughter and conversation.

You arrived with your group of friends, feeling both excited and a little nervous. Parties like this weren’t your usual scene, but after much begging and coaxing from Sakura and Temari, you’d finally agreed.

“C’mon, you deserve to have fun!” Sakura had said earlier, practically dragging you out of your dorm room. “It’ll be good for you to let loose for once!”

And so, here you were, standing just inside the mansion’s grand entrance, your outfit—chosen with the help of your friends—turning heads as soon as you walked in. The black romper hugged your figure in all the right places, and the strappy heels accentuated your legs. Your long hair fell in loose waves down your back, catching the light every time you moved.

“You look so hot tonight,” Temari whispered, leaning in with a grin as she linked her arm with yours. “Every guy here is going to be all over you.”

You laughed nervously. “Let’s hope not.”

But even as you said it, you could feel eyes on you—lingering stares from guys scattered throughout the room. You tried to focus on your friends instead. The night started off lighthearted. Drinks were poured, laughter filled the air, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Sakura found her boyfriend almost immediately, pulling him into a kiss before disappearing into the crowd with him. Temari and Hinata were quick to drag you toward the bar, where a line of colorful cocktails was set up.

“You have to try this one,” Temari said, handing you a drink with a mischievous smile. “It’s sweet, but it’ll hit you later if you’re not careful.”

“Should I be worried?” you asked, eyeing the drink suspiciously.

“Only if you’re a lightweight,” she teased.

The first sip was surprisingly good, and before you knew it, you were halfway through your second glass. The alcohol loosened your nerves, making it easier to join in the fun. The girls dragged you onto the dance floor, where the music thumped loudly, and the energy was contagious.

Tenten twirled you around, laughing as you stumbled slightly in your heels. “You’re getting the hang of this!” she said.

“Barely,” you replied, giggling.

The group danced together, your movements syncing with the rhythm of the music. You felt free, the worries of the week melting away as you lost yourself in the moment.

But across the room, someone else was watching.

Sasuke stood with his group near the bar, a drink in hand. His dark eyes followed your every move, narrowing slightly when he noticed the way other guys were starting to notice you too. He didn’t say anything, but his grip on his glass tightened.

Naruto nudged him. “You okay, man? You’ve been staring over there for a while.”

Sasuke didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink and set the glass on the counter with more force than necessary. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, though his gaze never left you. As the night wore on, your friends began to leave one by one. Temari and Hinata left first, with Naruto and Shikamaru escorting them out. Tenten left with Neji shortly after, and Sakura had long since disappeared with her boyfriend.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured them when they asked if you wanted to leave too.

But now, as the crowd thinned and the music softened, you realized you were alone.

Or so you thought.

Sasuke appeared beside you, his presence suffocating as he leaned in close. “Looks like it’s just us now.”

His words sent a chill dowon your spine, and you suddenly felt very aware of how vulnerable you were.

“Get off me sasuke!” With your friends now gone from the party you were now vulnerable to sasuke and he took this time to make his full move on you. Getting tired of you fighting agasint him he smacks so hard that your head whipped back to two sides you then look at him with teary eyes terrified of him. That was moment he realized how much control he had of you. And how innocent you were.

“Just wait until we get into in my dorm Im gonna ruin you.” He says darkly chuckling to himself.

You are now currently in sasuke dorm His hands are on your waist, pressing you agasint the wall with no way out. You try to protest but kisses you immediately with tongue causing tension to rise he presses you into the wall further after he finishes kissing you salvia breaks apart with your heaving breathing. God he just wants to ruin. He then grabs the back of your hair gripping it tightly. “Im going to lift you up on my shoulders and if you try anything it won’t end well for you. “

You whimper in response not knowing what to say he took that as you responding and lift your legs up on his shoulders. He takes off your red lace panties tucking them in his pockets. “We’re gonna fall!-“ he then uses he left arm grabbing my mother closing my mouth shut. He then presses his mouth up to your cunt his tongue wrapping around clit you immediately let out a small moan and whimper. You never touched yourself so this new feeling felt intense.

Letting he left hand go off your mouth he starts kneading both of your breasts adding more pleasure. He continues to suck and lick at your clit skillfully. Your breath catches in your throat swallowing a lump in your throat, your head starts to fall back into the wall gripping on sasuke’s hair. It feels so good. Way too good. Tears start to well up in your eyes. “Sasuke T-to much-“ Your voice is weak as you protest. “Well Thats just to bad.” He then uses his finger against your hole, twisting it until it pushes your velvet walls. He then hums lapping at your clit, sloppily pressing his tongue on your clit dragging upwards before moving his tongue side to side across your bud. Sasuke then starts sloppily using his finger in your hole pressing against your g spot.

You start to let out incoherent moans and cries. “P-please it’s to much!” Sasuke then looks up at you for a second. “Can’t even speak correctly I must be eating you out to good.” He then stoops eating you out using his fingers for your hole. His fingers then start pounding into your hole relentlessly the heel of his hand slapping against your clit. You then feel something way intense. Too intense. You then feel you a knot coming into your stomach and your toes curling. “It hurts sasuke.” He then looks up at you again. “Your to tight just calm down.” He then uses his fingers to rub at your clit. And your mouth forms into an O shape letting out loud moans.

Your pleasure then builds up stacks of build unfold by itself. You cum hard. Nasty wet squelches could be heard around the room. Your now letting out broken moans and cries. Without stopping he then puts his mouth back on your clit still fingering hard he then curls his fingers into your g-spot. You sob, his pace being non persistent and mean, bullying you past your organisms. And you start to tremble heavily. “P/please Sasuke Im sorry just stop please-!” You cry desperately as his fingers curl into you harder his tongue slurping on your clit. You feel something deep inside you snap. You then let out a scream. You then feel something warm. You then look down on sasuke face in horror.

You squirted. Sasuke then speaks and laughs at your pathetic state did you just squirt? (Name).” Too out breath to say nothing you just stare at him with swelling eyes. He then drops you off his shoulders with your legs so wobbly he then pushes you on the bed harshly back hitting the bed. He then grabs one of your legs putting it on his shoulders “W-wait! I’ve never done this before.” He then takes off his clothes revealing his toned body. He pumps himself a few times. You then look at with tear filled eyes. “I-it won’t fit” You whimper. Sasuke just grins down and laugh at you.

“Then I’ll make it fit.” Beige surging his hips forward. He then bottoms you out in one go, his groan drowned out by your louder whines. Your previous orgasms let him slip right in, but damnit your walls hugged and squeezed him so tight, too much for him not to snap his hips forward. Your mouth gapes at his harsh rhythm creating a sloppy and nasty sound in the room that just drives him to fuck you harder and faster. Your insides felt so full that you could burst. His cock is doing nothing but spitting you apart in a way it got your brain melting into a putty. With your eyes getting watery as it is. Beautiful noises coming out of so loudly that sasuke had to bend down and shut you up himself squeezed your cheeks so hard your cheeks started looking like a red tomato. He then lets go kissing you sloppily a mess of salvia from both tongues disconnecting Sasuke then grabs a bouncing tit squeezes hard while he still kept you face upturned to his, calling you degrading words while his hand was rubbing on your clit again. “You don’t want this but you’re being a crybaby creaming around me.” He said looking at your teary eyes.

He can feel himself bump into your cervix, He then looks back up to look at your face to see that yiur eyes had permanently rolled back of your head, your tongue out and drooling. God he wanna stay in this moment forever. Sasuke then engrave the image of you in the back of his mind immediately throwing his head back with a loud moan, the rough rutting of his hips having your hand to try and push him off weakly when your insides throbbed, incoherent babbles then come out of your mouth about a organism. “Yeah? Gonna cum again crybaby?” He rasps out, gathers your wrists tight in one hand as he fucked you hard and rough with everything he had, delirious in his own upcoming high. “Cmon crybaby cum all over my cock. Fuuuckkk-“

You couldn’t even form words, you just came seconds after with your back curling off thr bed, dumb squeals and cries muffled by sasuke hand. The bed creaking and headboard hitting the wall so aggressively. His hand pushing you roughly on the in the pillow, a spew of curses leaving his lips out of pure bliss HES feeling right now. He panted out like a a dog, still cumming lazily rocking shallow thrusts into you, blobs of white overflowing around the edges and dribbling in a puddle under your ass. He finally pulls out. He then lets out a laugh at your fucked out expression. He leaned then licking your neck and kissing it. You then let out a whimper.

You tried to get up but he pushes you back down. “Lay back down you’re not going anywhere looking like that.” With no energy left you just do as he says. Immediately falling asleep in his arms.

#tw noncon #dark fic #x reader #sasuke smut #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x reader #authors on tumblr #tw: alcohol #yandere sasuke #naruto fandom #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #x reader smut #sasuke imagines #fypage #fyp #smut

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