#Into your story at least flesh it out a bit more
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Tbh, as much as I don't care much for Rhysand, Cassian or Azriel. I believe it honestly was a missed opportunity for Sarah J Maas to expand upon Illyrian culture.
When you get down and think about it what do we really know about the Illyrians? Other than the fact that they have bat wings, they're a very male dominated culture that surrounds itself around war, they're incredibly intense in regards of training, the wing clippings, the valkyrie,the brutalization of women. The concept of the Illyrians in the acotar series is incredibly bare bones and one dimensional it's frustrating. What're their religious beliefs/practices? Their delicacies, their art, their language??? Hell as much as I do not like the portrayal of the dothraki in Game of thrones, atleast (to a certain degree) George RR.Martin did something with them. Sarah J Maas is capable of writing and coming up with interesting ideas. But how she portrays the Illyrians in the acotar series as barbaric war-mongering savages who view women as breeding livestock to pump out kids who are then basically booted off to military camp the immediate moment they grow the cognitive ability to crawl is frustratingly laughable and lazy as a writer on her part.
#Acotar#A court of thorns and roses#SJM critical#Acotar Illyrians#Sometimes I wonder if Sjm looked up the Illyrians or if she just picked it up from Star Trek#The Illyrians deserved better#Her work building is so#It's so half baked and barely fleshed out#And sjm isn't inclined to expand or have to make a whole book about it people and culture but if you're going to introduce these aspects#Into your story at least flesh it out a bit more
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yurikuma arashi is probably ikuhara's weakest work imo but i HAVE to give it credit for slapping the word yuri onto fucking everything
#im not saying its terrible btw its just. well its no utena or sarazanmai. but it does have a framed photo that says Yuri Friends#i too am ''yuri friends''#ik it means lily too ofc but something tells me they didnt mean it in the lily way idk#i think my biggest gripe w yurikuma though was the oversexualization. and ofc i KNOW that it was kind of the point#in some respects at least#but i think there can still be ways of portraying than in a more tactful way#like utena's approach was better i think. it didnt have to be like super in your face but still made it absolutely devastating#while in yurikuma's case its honestly hard to differentiate it from just actual fanservice. it doesnt seem distinct from it at all#so i feel like it couldve been more polished... less gauche?#i get what they were going for yeah but i also dont think you can brush of critique of it w just ''well its on purpose'' yknow?#maybe if they had more time to flesh it out it couldve worked. yurikuma felt a bit limited w its 12 episode run#unlike sarazanmai which absolutely nailed it w a short run#but i do think the payoff at the end was good. like the story of the forest girl and the sky girl (or something) breaking the barrier#that was pretty cool like it had some real stuff going for it too so its like. not unsalvageable lol
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speedran through both da2 dlc and im almost almost done with act 3. as much as i like this game and as much as ive been enjoying going through it again i really really wanna get it over already. cause afterwards it its emil time
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#ive said many times that my warden is my fave oc but honesly. my inquisitor is very very very close up there#hes definitely my most developed. ive thought about every part of his story and all his choices and im very very happy with him#and its been years since ive played with him#ive fleshed out my hawke a lot more this time around but theres still something weird about them#like i guess its something to do with da2s general narrative. i feel like its the one where you have the least power over your choices#cause in the end everything kinda turns out the same way. you can mostly just choose how to react to everything#which im not complaining about i love the tragedy of it all#but it makes making a character to fit the story a bit harder
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Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?
Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.
Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.
EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶
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Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.
Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.
Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.
In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.
It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.
But that was simply not the case for you.
Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.
Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.
You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.
He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.
It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.
You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.
When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.
As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.
He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.
This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.
Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.
Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.
Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.
He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.
Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yancore#yanderecore#yandere aesthetic#yandere male#yandere sunday x reader#sunday x reader#yandere sunday#sunday#sunday x you#yan hsr#yandere hsr#hsr x reader#sunday hsr#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail
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An Accidental 'I Love You'
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Synopsis: Saying ‘I love you’ is difficult for some of the Wind Breaker boys (some more than others), but sometimes intimacy is all one needs to be inspired to say those sweet three words. Characters are aged up.
Based on prompt #16 from @prompt-heaven. Dividers by saradika. Story banner by me.
CW: Female Reader. Smut & Fluff below. MDNI
Word Count: 1.6K
Authors Note: I genuinely love the Wind Breaker characters, so I’m excited to write for them for the first time. Remember, my requests are open if you'd like something written! As usual, I always appreciate a like, comment, or reblog.
Haruka Sakura has his issues. If you asked his closest enemies—and some friends—to list his flaws, they’d rattle off: impatient, hot-headed, kind of clueless. But you know Sakura, and, sure, he can be some of those things, but the flaw that makes your heart ache the most is what he exhibits in his most vulnerable moments: insurmountable insecurity.
When you start to date Sakura, you know that he needs gentle praise and reassurance to build him up to combat the years of abuse he’s experienced—and it’s a delicate balance of the right amount of praise without sounding insincere.
So when you finally reach the next level of intimacy in your relationship, which admittedly felt like a slow crawl, you start to see another side of Haruka Sakura.
You’re his first everything—-date, hand-hold, kiss, and sexual experience. One thing about Sakura is that he’s eager to make up for lost time, gingerly touching you in places that make your bottom lip quiver, licking you in a way that makes your pupils dilate and your mouth open in a breathless moan. Sakura buries himself in you because while he’s never outwardly expressed it, he feels safe, accepted, and loved when he’s with you.
And maybe you’re a bit surprised when his face is buried in the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling the hickey-covered expanse of your flesh as he whispers a quiet, “I love you.”
You both pause what you’re doing—your gentle scratching of his toned shoulder blades and his deep rolling of his hips. Suddenly, Sakura pulls back, beet-red and a horrified expression on his face. And you know him and his proclivity to shut down and run away when embarrassed, so you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to keep him from leaping out of the room and bolting down the street.
You can see the cogs turning in his head, the internal dialogue you’re almost always attempting to fend off, contributing to a new narrative that you may reject him.
“H-hey! Look at me.” You reach a hand up and stroke his face, the heat of his cheeks permeating against your palm.
“Haruka, I love you, too. I hope that you know that.” You look down between you both, your bodies still connected, which you hope clearly indicates the feelings you share for one another.
He bites his lip, following your eyes, taking in your naked form splayed out underneath him, fleshy thighs wrapped around his waist, the insides of those thighs coated in your slick and him still throbbing inside of you.
You can see him doing something that he doesn’t do often—fighting back the harmful dialogue in his head that says he isn’t enough.
Sakura leans down so he’s back to hovering in your orbit, his strong arms on the sides of your head and caging you in. His voice remains slightly above a whisper, but at least he’s now gazing into your eyes with his luminescent ones. “I got in my head…again.”
You rake the tips of your fingernails across his spine, earning a shiver and a low whimper from him—he doesn’t need much more of an invitation to recapture your lips in his own and continue to roll his hips into yours.
Hayato Suo is as calculated as they come; everything he says is said with reason—whether the other party knows that reason is another story. With that knowledge, I can’t imagine Suo accidentally saying those three special words.
In fact, he’d never say those words if he didn’t mean it. So when Suo informs you that he loves you in a way that feels akin to asking you what you wanted for dinner on a random Tuesday, despite you both laying in bed, fully unclothed after a heated lovemaking session, you’re a loss for words. He doesn’t miss a beat as he places soft kisses against each of your knuckles, but you stare at him to make sure he’s not—excuse the language—fucking with you.
His eyes are closed, but he can feel you staring into his soul. A corner of his lips tilts upward in amusement.
“Say it again.”
And so he does. Every chance he gets, he tells you that he loves you, that he adores you, and that breathing you in sustains his very being. He not only whispers the sentiment during mundane moments like walking down the aisle of your favorite tea shop but also when you’re in the throes of experiencing his passion for you.
Gentle caresses of your stomach as he delivers gentle suckles to your clit, devouring your essence one swallow at a time. And while what he says is muffled because his mouth is full of your sex, it’s clear to you that he’s showering you with praise among the sanctum between your thighs.
“I love you,” “you’re simply everything,” and “my pretty girl” consume the spaces you share, and no one can blame you if you develop a bit of a praise kink because no one has the unshakeable swagger that Suo does.
Jo Togame has a feeling that there’s something about you when harmless flirting in the hangout turns into letting you wear his Shishitoren jacket to send a message that if anyone fucks with you, they’re going to have a massive problem on their hands.
Among the stolen kisses, frenzied quickies in the cover of alleyways, and lazy weekends spent in bed with your legs wrapped around each other, it finally hits Togame as he’s drawing large circles on your skin with the tip of his finger. And it isn’t until one of the aforementioned lazy Sundays that he’s willing to share the revelation.
You’re laying in bed with one another—-he, the big spoon to your little one, his cock buried deep inside of you as he rolls his hips in a manner that only Togame can—-in no particular rush to bring on his orgasm but having a preference to prioritize yours.
You’ve gotten used to the sensual lovemaking, the slow build of your orgasm bubbling deep within you as you tremble from the overstimulation.
Togame presses his lips against your neck, slowly trailing kisses near the edge of your hairline and upward until you can feel his tongue sucking gently at your lobe, and a deep, slow rumble emits from his chest, “God, I love you.”
Togame says it with the conviction of someone who has resolved themselves to one person, his person, you, you, you. There is no room for doubt because once Togame commits to you, he’s simply committing to the destiny of your love story, which was always inevitable.
Hajime Umemiya is also someone who would never proclaim his love for someone unless he meant it, but unlike Suo, his reasoning has little to do with a preference for remaining aloof and more to do with the fact that once he says, ‘I love you,’ he’s marrying that person.
In a perfect world, Umemiya would plan a romantic date somewhere where you’d be surrounded by blooming flowers, the rays of the sun beaming down on you, and creating a golden halo around the crown of your hair. You’d never looked as beautiful as you do now, and he was ready to express to you what you meant to him. Umemiya would be visibly nervous, and because you know him so well, perhaps this would indicate that something was amiss.
Unfortunately, sometimes things don’t always go according to plan because one thing about Umemiya is that he can be caught in the heat of the moment.
Umemiya has your hands pinned above your head, his fingers intertwined with yours because there’s not a world in which he doesn’t crave that connection with you. And as he slides into you—an unashamed moan escaping his lips, he takes in your smell, the way you murmur and sigh his name as he fills you up; he can’t help but sputter out a shakey, “I…i love you.”
Instead of being embarrassed that this wasn’t what he planned, he chuckles because this is as good a moment as any and says it again, and again, and again, while placing tender kisses against your lips, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Ren Kaji has had quite the stressful day—even by Makochi’s standards. After throwing fists with thugs terrorizing the town's shop owners, he seeks you out, his anchor, the one person who can keep him from losing control and beating people within an inch of their lives.
And you’re more than happy to take on that role, not only because you adore the sweet-toothed man but also because it results in some rough romps in the bedroom, which you could never complain about.
Hard smacks to your bare ass, angry, dark hickeys littered across every inch of you, and a soreness radiating between your legs later warrants intensive aftercare, according to Kaji. So after he’s done massaging your scalp, helping you into your cute pajamas, and grabbing you a glass of water, he holds you.
With your ear pressed against his chest, you listen to the soft, rhythmic repetition of his beating heart as he drifts in and out of sleep.
And in between soft snores and a relaxed dream state, Kaji utters a simple “I love you.”
You laugh softly so as not to wake him because, of course, he does, and this isn’t the first time he’s spoken those words in his sleep. But every morning, neither of you mention the confession.
His actions are more than enough proof to show that he loves you, and you aren’t sure that he remembers, anyway. Regardless, you have no doubt that the day in which Kaji speaks those words to you will come.
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#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker x reader#wind breaker smut#wind breaker#haruka sakura#togame jo#hajime umemiya#ren kaji#hayato suo
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The last practice before nationals
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poly!yellowjackets x fem!reader minors DNI, all characters are 18 y.o
TW: smut, gangbang extra tags: porn with plot, praising, bodyworship, sharing is caring, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), oral (r! giving), little bit of spanking word count: 5.1k not proofread english is not writer's first language! you've always been so nice and sweet to Yellowjackets, the one and only soccer team in your school, Wiskayok High. But you also were naive and innocent enough to constantly overlook the fact that every single girl on the team wanted your attention. And when, the last day before their nationals, they finally decided to make things clear between you and them.
When Coach Martinez first introduced you to the girls, they weren't too impressed. Average hair, average eyes, average height. Nothing special or anything to look at more than usual. You weren't even, roughly speaking, a full-fledged part of the team. At least that's what Taissa said. She was always like that - confident and sure of her opinions, even if they were somewhat offensive.
But you didn't mind, and even agreed. You were just an equipment manager, and you only became one because your mother and father were very close with Coach Martinez and asked him to find you a place out of old friendship. Of course, the coach made up a different story for everyone about how you came to be on the team - but every time you remembered the truth of your presence here, you wondered if you had the right to wear your signature yellow and blue bomber jacket. You felt ashamed, even though you didn't act like someone who got in because they got a pass. You were responsible, punctual, but you didn’t forget about empathy and responsiveness when communicating with girls. Over time, you began to be noticed by more than just Misty Quigley, who shared the same position with you.
Misty Quigley herself wasn’t too bad. Well, she was… weird. But you decided that everyone had their own cockroaches in their heads and she was just trying to make friends this way.
"You know, if we ever run out of food, I’ve always wondered what human flesh tastes like. I mean, they say it’s like pork, right? Maybe we should start taking notes just in case." Misty once said while you were cleaning up the cones after practice. You looked at her with wide eyes, full of confusion.
"Excuse me? Misty, this is a little weird…" You awkwardly continued to do your job, while Misty burned a hole in you with her gaze. Misty tilts her head slightly, her expression shifting from playful to earnest.
"Oh, come on! I was just joking… mostly. But think about it—survival is all about adapting, right? It’s just a thought experiment! Besides, we’ve got to keep our spirits up somehow. Want to talk about your favorite horror movie instead? I promise I won’t suggest cannibalism this time!”
But Misty didn’t always say such creepy things. She could talk about history, especially about Roman emperors, about her experience in first aid and medicine in general, about her interests, of which there were quite a few, but no one except you, apparently, wanted to listen to her. You didn’t understand the reasons and were patient with her. Misty immediately began to appreciate this - she did not throw away potential loved ones. Then Natalie Scatorccio appeared. Natalie did not have much experience with love, including the manifestation of care towards her. You didn't know anything about her, except that she lived in a van and was an extremely good and promising soccer player. But the more Misty shared the good news about your "endless love and care", trying to brag that she had such a tasty morsel and not the rest of the team, Nat couldn't help but become interested in you. People who lack love often don't quite realize how much they subconsciously want to find it.
She caught you after practice once and started talking to you. Nat herself didn't understand why she wanted to come back to you more and more every day - was it your manner of speech or how brightly you smiled at her after silly stories? She wanted to blush under your gentle gaze, and her heart beat strangely when you waved at her after she made a good pass to the other team members. But of course it wasn't always like that. The more attached she became to you, the more she focused on looking into your unexpectedly deep eyes, rather than at the ball.
"Natalie, don't you want to start playing properly? What are you constantly distracted by?" Lottie narrows her eyes when Natalie refuses to pass the ball to her and tries to dribble the ball to the goal herself, but hits the wall.
"Forget it, Lots. I'm just having a bad day." Natalie waved it off. It was odd that for someone having a bad day, she was smiling so stubbornly and persistently in the wrong direction. Lottie couldn't help but realize that she was looking at you. Perhaps you needed to have a heart-to-heart talk.
So, Charlotte Matthews quickly became next.
After practice, she caught you doing your job as you were supposed to, and called you out on it. She was annoyed, but more curious about your relationship with Natalie. You were blushing and apologetic, and it was hard to deny that you weren't to blame for Nat's deteriorating performance.
And then Lottie discovered that your shy face was extremely hard to get out of her head. Inadvertently, you began to talk after and before practice, Lottie sharing some details about upcoming parties at her house and inviting you. You, of course, refused. Your parents expected you to be decent, and Lottie didn't like rejection and didn't know what rejection was, being a rich girl. So she made it her goal to get you at least once. Or twice. So trying to get under your skin, subtly courting you, and trying to get through to your difficult parents was already routine. Including giving expensive gifts.
"Tai, have you seen the new hair clip in Y/N's hair? Those things cost a lot of money, I tell you, I saw it in the window of that expensive jewelry store." Vanessa was amazed at the new accessory you now had.
"I didn't really pay attention to it, to be honest. What do you… mean? Do you want one like that? I didn't think it was your style." Taissa chuckled, and Van rolled her eyes.
"Haha, very funny, but that's not what I mean… Hey, Lottie! Does Y/N have a rich mommy and daddy like yours?"
Lottie, passing by, chuckled, clearly filled with pride. "Not really. That was my gift. Y/N is very nice, you know. You shouldn't have doubted her, Taissa."
Then Taissa Turner and Vanessa Palmer appeared. They were already in a relationship and were amazed to see how quickly you changed the team's attitude for the better. And yet, from the very beginning, you were a black sheep for Taissa. Van, however, did not treat you with great disdain. She preferred to give people a chance to prove themselves first, and only then draw her own conclusions. However, they quickly liked you. Taissa was surprised that you had previously attended law and jurisprudence classes, and these topics interested her greatly. Van was pleasantly pleased with your taste in films and comics. You complemented their couple with something that they could not complement each other with on their own, after all, no relationship can simply be perfect. It was a matter of time before they both wanted your attention more than was possible. Van often invited you to her home to read or watch something, and Taissa loved to discuss social issues with you. You turned out to be more than either of them could have thought.
"Tai, I'm sorry, but I've already taken up Y/N's time for the evening with myself." Van smiled tenderly at Taissa.
Taissa raised an eyebrow in surprise, seemingly hoping for something. "Damn. How did you manage to come to an agreement with her faster than me? Maybe you'll take me with you?" she said with awkward hope. "Of course, I don't understand a damn thing about your conversations, but still…"
"No way, babe. You'll steal her attention again." Van shook her head.
"Why do I keep hearing everyone talking about Y/N from every corner of the room?" Jackie folded her arms in displeasure as she found herself next to the couple. "I understand that she's new and all that… but what's so unique about her? I swear, we won't get to nationals like this."
Jackie Taylor was annoyed by your popularity within the Yellowjackets. She could see the effect you had on the girls - they were going crazy trying to get a piece of you. She wasn't interested in you at all, but she had a feeling that if she didn't get a little bit closer, they would dethrone her and make you the team captain and even make you their mascot. She had to do something, and fast.
One day, Jackie stayed with you after practice, kindly offering to help you clean up the equipment. When you both walked into the warehouse, she almost pinned you against the wall, demanding answers to her questions.
"Y/N, I can see something's going on. I understand that you want to be friends with everyone, sure, but… we're trying really hard to get to nationals. And you're being way too… outgoing, you know? You need to stop. For the good of our team, as captain, I'm asking you to…"
"Your hair looks great today. Even after playing so hard." You blurted out, unable to contain your genuine respect. "Oh. Sorry. Keep going."
Jackie froze, her combative attitude seeming to completely falter. "You… you think so? Finally, someone sees how much I work on this hair, trying to get it just right every morning! I use powder and hairspray literally all the time, and no one has even bothered to compliment me… until you, of course."
Jackie took pity on you after that. Not when you were willing to spend hours shopping for clothes with her, stealing your clothes and trying on what she told you to try on, making you her model. No one had ever shown such steely restraint with Jackie Taylor, and every time she put on your makeup, it was so hard for her to resist the pounding of her heart and the strange desire to cover your lips with hers. But there was a catch to being with Jackie. The amount of time you spent together didn't sit well with Shauna Shipman. She was the only one who showed no interest in you at all. She didn't care about you, and that was surprising. She never, not once, approached you. You doubted she even knew your name, although considering Jackie told her everything, your name was the only thing she knew about you.
And the fact that you were a real suck-up. That's what she called you when she decided to have it out with you.
"What do you have with Jackie? Do you think I can't see how you're trying to pull the wool over her and everyone else's eyes?" Shauna narrows her eyes, looming over you. "What is it about you? Are you such a good suck-up?"
You felt hurt, but even more so, you felt a seething injustice. "I don't know what you're talking about, Shauna, I was just trying to be friends with everyone. It's not my fault they saw something in me."
Shauna snorted, unsure of what to do with you. "Well. Fine. Just stay away from Jackie, okay? And you'll be fine." Shauna had already turned away from you, about to leave. She adjusted her backpack, but a book fell out. You quickly picked it up.
"You dropped…" You looked at the cover, sighing in surprise. "Pride and Prejudice? That's my favorite book!" You exclaimed, surprising Shauna. She rolled her eyes, simply taking it from you, pretending not to care, but in reality, she was even a little impressed. You were left standing in the hallway, not quite sure what you did wrong.
And then you were surprised when Shauna came to you wanting to discuss the book, as if nothing had happened. Perhaps she was so eager to discuss her interests with someone that she decided to choose the worst option of all - you (Jackie, as expected, did not like reading books at all). You liked to read in your spare time, and Shauna was pleased that you had read a lot of female writers from the 18th and 19th centuries. She sometimes shared her thoughts on them with you, but the main thing was that at one point she made you a playlist of songs named after you. You were flattered and too busy enjoying the gift to notice how much Shauna blushed as she tried to hold your hand.
You didn't even know it would be like this. It seemed like almost all the girls on the team were literally tearing you apart. You'd never received so many gifts, compliments, and, it seemed, hints? Of course, you were pleased. You were a girl, after all. And you suddenly had little free time. Sometimes you spent time with two or even three girls at once a day. Of course, sometimes this led to conflicts between them, but they never dragged you into it. You were untouchable.
But you didn't expect that they would all decide to fix it in one day.
Despite everything, training for Nationals continued. Luckily, the Yellow Jackets team still managed to get their game together and win the filtration game that determined their participation in the competition. Everyone, of course, was incredibly happy. As were you for your favorite team.
There was just one thing. Your parents forbade you to fly with them. You begged as much as you could, but they were adamant. They wanted you to stay home and use your free time from your team to good use, studying and preparing for college. You shed so many tears in front of them, almost begging, but nothing worked. Sometimes you wanted to curse your parents.
Tomorrow, everyone was supposed to fly to Nationals. You entered the locker room, terribly dejected. You were immediately noticed, and the girls were insanely worried. Lately, all of them had been very attentive to you.
"You don't look well, Y/N," Natalie said, her smile from earlier quickly fading.
"Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Maybe a stomach ache?" Misty jumped up to you as if your life depended on it.
"Get away from her, Misty. Y/N might need some space." Vanessa shook her head, and was just as concerned about you.
"I-it's okay…" you sniffed. "It's just… I couldn't convince them. I did everything I could, I begged as hard as I could, and they still refused me. You… you'll have to celebrate your victory at the nationals without me." your eyes sadly looked around at everyone. The shared sadness touched every girl present.
"Y/N… I'm so sorry." Lottie took your hands in hers, looking at you sadly, but Jackie quickly jumped up to her.
"How so? Do they not care at all that you want to fly with us?" she snorts, angry at your family. Being spoiled by her own parents, she did not understand this attitude, especially towards you.
"At least you will be here when we return." Taissa tried to find the positives, although she was disappointed too.
"It does not make much sense, she will not be able to share the joy of us taking the first place in the moment." Shauna said, shaking her head. There was silence between all of you. You were so upset that you didn't even notice how all the girls were looking at each other meaningfully and nodding silently. Suddenly Lottie ran a gentle hand down your cheek, took your chin.
"Don't be so upset, Y/N," Lottie said softly, looking soothingly into your eyes. "You know… in all this time that you've been part of our team, we've grown attached to you. You've always been so kind to us. I think we can come to an agreement and find a way to thank you properly."
You were very embarrassed, and suddenly you felt a little awkward. "I was just being myself, you don't have to do anything for me." You, of course, felt pleased. But you were surprised when you felt hands behind you, and out of the corner of your eye you could see blonde strands of hair, and then you heard the familiar voice of Nat, who decided to come up to you from behind.
"Don't be such a shy princess. Why don't you let us comfort you?" she almost purrs in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. It felt… oddly pleasant, like a wave of excitement had washed over you.
"I, um… I don't know… how are you going to do that?" you ask. You can already see and feel Misty wrap her arms around your right hand, stroking it, looking at you in awe.
"You see, Y/N, you have some kind of influence over all of us." Lottie continues. Jackie glares at Matthews, apparently annoyed that Lottie is in charge. While she's busy burning a jealous hole in someone else's body, Shauna approaches you, her hands stroking your neck, and you shiver, vaguely aware of where this is all heading.
"We feel an irresistible… attraction to you. It's hard for us to share you between us. Haven't you noticed how hard we try to please you?" Lottie asks, genuinely concerned. "And you still wouldn't give in to any of us. We tried to figure out what you wanted, but we failed every time. So we thought you'd have to try each one before you figured out which one of us you wanted to be with."
Your brain was already running out, and now that Van's hand was stubbornly touching your thigh, and Taissa was holding your waist, whispering something in your ear, you completely stopped thinking. You were surrounded by a crowd of girls with whom you spent all your free time so happily, and they were trying to get you all the time. Was it all of them? Each of them wanted you to be their girlfriend? These thoughts left you shocked and you didn't even know how close or far from the truth it was. You, of course, dreamed about them. About each of them at least once, though about some more than others. But for you it was not serious, you did nothing! Did they really want it that much?
You yourself do not notice how you let out a quiet sigh when Shauna kisses your neck. She does it roughly, as if she is having difficulty containing the desire that is accumulating in her. Shauna is silent, examining, analyzing and suppressing in herself, and then explodes like a time bomb. And now she wants to explode at any moment.
Misty's hand undoes the button of your pants in irritation, and Van and Taissa pull them down. You are brought back to reality, and you feel panicked. You were definitely not prepared for being undressed.
"W-wait, there's no need to go anywhere-" you break off with a groan. Nat, still standing and supporting you from behind, bites your ear, licks it, makes your sensitive earlobe wet. You sigh at the newness of this strange, disorienting sensation.
"Don't worry, sweet thing. Everything is going to be just fine." Natalie purrs, and you can't tell if she's stoned or not. Your pants are thrown to the floor. And then your panties. You are naked for all the girls, and they are looking at you so mesmerized, like this is the best thing they've ever seen in their lives. Even Jackie and Lottie, standing behind you, are watching you in awe.
This time, Van is first. Her tongue touches your already wet cunt, and she circles it, tasting you. You moan, and Natalie tugs your hair a little, exposing more of your neck. Taissa gives you a couple of loud slaps on your ass, interested in seeing your reaction. You shudder and your hips jerk, because you like it. Misty's hand goes under your shirt and gropes your breasts, pulling your nipples almost painfully, while Shauna leaves wet marks on your collarbone from her mouth, wanting to leave marks on you that will definitely last until their collective return from Nationals.
You are so turned on, and you feel stimulation from all sides. Your hand wants to reach for Van's red head, to press it harder, but Nat, watching you like a hawk, pulls you back.
"Let her do it herself." She whispers in your ear. You nod frantically, it's best not to argue with them. A few more movements of Van on your clit, her skillful tongue, which had probably done the same with Taisa before, could easily bring you to orgasm. You moaned more actively, your chest moved a hundred times more intensely, and then she pulled away.
"She's ready, Lottie." Van said, wiping her mouth. It was hard for you to understand what was happening, and you just whined, saddened that you were not allowed to come. For a moment, everyone broke away from you. Everyone was listening to Lottie.
"We'll help you after you help us, Y/N," Lottie says with a smile that sounds like she's some kind of prophet. "We've been waiting so long to get your attention. We think we deserve to come first. But I promise you won't regret it."
You nodded at her, mesmerized, but you felt like this wasn't quite the Lottie you knew. She was so mysterious, and you couldn't tell what was on her mind.
"Get away from her, all of you." Lottie commanded. "And you, Y/N, sit on your knees, please. Put something down so it won't hurt her to sit on the floor."
Van and Nat dutifully laid out their own jackets so your knees wouldn't hurt from what you were about to do. It was a pleasant moment of care. You obediently settled down on your knees in front of Lottie. You were literally being eaten with their eyes, and you were ready for what was to happen.
Lottie was already reaching for her shorts, but Jackie spoke up. "Sorry, Lottie… but I'll be the first." She said, raising her chin high. Jackie's voice was filled with nervous confidence, and she tried to withstand Lottie's and the other girls' piercing gaze. "I'm the captain of our team, and I want to be the first one to do this. What made you think you could lead?"
Lottie was silent, and you couldn't even understand what she was thinking right now. Then she nodded, and her voice was cold. "Okay. Be the first. But don't ruin it too soon."
You didn't understand the meaning of the words, but Jackie frantically replaced Lottie, pulled down her shorts, and the taste of her cunt quickly imprinted on your tongue. You didn't know what Jackie really wanted to achieve by this - to let you fuck her first or she just felt depressed because of how Lottie quickly took control and everyone, even Shauna, was ready to obey her. In any case, you didn't mind. You devotedly licked her pussy and tried to watch Jackie's reaction, just to please her. In your fantasies, you tried many times to make Jackie as good as you could. In your mind, Jackie was not the type to give - she liked to receive more, and if she had to be on top in your fantasies, she was so gentle and timid, afraid to make an extra move, that it only excited you more. But here she was — trying to have your whole mouth, like she had been fantasizing about it for so long that you were almost dizzy with the realization. Your drool and her juices were running down her thighs while she moaned, and the others were watching, some daring to stick their hands down their own shorts. A couple of minutes passed and Jackie came convulsively, sitting down on the bench. Now she wouldn’t object. She had no strength.
Shauna was next. She was never patient, not with what she liked - her hand grabbed your hair (no one protested, everyone decided she deserved it for scoring the final goal during the nationals qualifiers) and she pulled herself roughly-gently towards her vagina. Your eyes rolled back and you almost got lost in her thick dark pubic hair, but fuck, she was delicious and you were ready to continue as long as it took. You even forgot how to breathe sometimes - Shauna was a little rough, muttering something harshly under her breath and moaning, repeating your sweet name. She came quickly and took a step to the side, pulling up her shorts and retreating to the bathroom, apparently to rethink something.
Then there was Taissa… and Van. They were both allowed near you at the same time. You were dumbfounded, not knowing how to cope with taming two pussies at the same time, but you didn't even have time to wipe the saliva and cum from your mouth, as the red vagina was in your mouth. You had to change one pussy to the other every 15-20 seconds, trying to lick both like never before. You were forbidden to use your hands, but they both frantically encouraged you as best they could, while your tongue circled their clits, and the dirty noise filled the locker room, already filled with heat and languid sighs.
"You're holding up great, Y/N… Come on, help Van a little…" Taissa whispered, tearing you away from her pussy, because you stubbornly did not want to stop. However, upon hearing her order, you quickly set to work on Van, drawing a sigh of excitement from her, and ten seconds later, an orgasm. Taissa followed.
Then there was Nat. You licked your lips, ready to receive her. You were surprised that her pussy was shaved, maybe she was getting ready and wanted to please you? This thought caused a sweet warmth in you. And Nat's pussy tasted sweet too. You sucked on her clit, wanting to please her in a way that no guy had ever done. Natalie moaned surprisingly softly, and it excited you so much that there was almost no dry spot left in your panties. She let you use your hands, and you held her by the hips, because she was shaking while your wet tongue caressed her tender folds, and the hot air from her nose came straight to her pubis. Needless to say, Nat came quickly, but for some time she did not want to leave your mouth? Misty didn't even ask your permission. Her head was wrapped around yours, her fingers tangled in your soft hair, and she was holding you to her bushy pussy like she was dying without it. You were taken aback, but that didn't stop you from wanting to please her, even if her actions were met with disapproval from the other girls. No one wanted to be played with more roughly than the rest. You licked her, trying to please her as much as possible - Misty looked like she was not easy to please, but she was whispering so sweetly in your ear, praise and advice, that your arousal literally flowed out of your panties.
"Yes, t-that's it, Y/N… That's just perfect, oh, you're so beautiful. You're just an angel, a little perfection." She muttered selflessly, her glasses falling to the tip of her nose as she came loudly in your mouth.
You were exhausted, but Lottie was still there. She was the last one. You looked up at her, tired, sluggish, and excited. She gave you a quick smile, but there was undisguised triumph in her eyes. She had you after all. Did we mention that Lottie hated rejection and not getting what she wanted?
Lottie lifted your chin, gently stroked your hair and tidied it up, wiped the tears of pleasure from your eyelashes. She let you dive into her pussy yourself, start licking it yourself, as if you were in some kind of licking contest and were going to take first place there. She let you keep glancing at her, watching every movement of her moaning mouth and trembling hands, just to please her. Your heart was beating so fast and it was so hot and you wanted to please her so much, plunging your sweet tongue into her pussy over and over again, that you had a hard time holding on. Lottie took the longest, savoring every second and apparently holding herself back. Eventually she pulled your head away from her, pressed her pussy to your forehead and came, covering you even more with her wetness. You were all for it.
"You did well, Y/N. You love us so much, you were ready for everyone." Lottie said tiredly. She nodded to the girls, and they sat around you. "Now you've earned a reward, huh?" You nodded vigorously, needing release. You were so wet, and almost whining with excitement. Your head ended up in Shauna's lap, and Nat, Misty and Jackie quickly found themselves at your feet. Misty nibbled on your calves and thighs, often not hesitating to do it quickly and hard, while Jackie, on the contrary, licked them like a kitten, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. This crazy contrast made you breathe quickly and roll your eyes, and all for the sake of Shauna watching this cute picture. Nat touched your pussy with her tongue, her two fingers slid inside your wet cunt - after such a long abstinence, taking two fingers at once was not at all difficult. You moaned, letting them all work on you while the others watched. Natalie's tongue was trying so hard to please you, playfully sucking and pulling on your clit, playing with your labia and purposely quickly driving her fingers into you, wanting to bring you to the peak and play on you like guitar strings.
"We love you, Y/N, such a gift for us." Jackie purrs, watching Natalie fuck your helpless pussy.
"You're the best!" Misty agrees with a smile, biting you and licking it slobberily.
"All that's left is to cum." Shauna says calmly, not hiding her smirk, constantly keeping her eyes on herself. "Come on. Nat's mouth is waiting for it."
As if on cue, you spill into Natalie's mouth with a loud moan. Everyone exhales relaxedly, and Natalie cleans your pussy with her tongue. "You're just sweet, princess." She smirks at her own abilities.
You let yourself sink into the girls' arms, catching your breath. You don't know yet that later they'll help you get dressed, each of them will kiss you on the lips, and you'll tell them to talk about it after Nationals. In the end, you still can't seem to choose one. You love them all, and you're waiting for them to return to Wiskayok, safe and sound, with victory in hand.
#shauna shipman x reader#x reader#yellowjackets#lottie matthews x reader#jackie taylor x reader#natalie scatorccio x reader#misty quigley x reader#van palmer x reader#taissa turner x reader#yellowjackets smut#x reader smut#female reader#damn that body
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Home to you—
Eddie comes home drunk to you.
A/N: missed you guys so much! sorry for dipping in and out so often, but i’ve been really into bridgerton lately and i’ve been only wanting to talk about that. howerver i did conjure up this h*rny little story for eddie, so i hope yall enjoy! -Bird
tags/warnings: 2.7k words | f!reader | boyfriend!eddie | drunk sex | consent checks | f*ngering | pinv | praise kink + nicknames
—
You heard keys jingle at your front door just a few feet outside the bedroom. Your boyfriend was finally home
“Guess who’s back,” Eddie teasingly whispered, trying not to wake you if you were already asleep.
“Is it Eddie?” You deeply inhaled and stretched your arms, your voice was low and sleepy.
Eddie fell into bed with you, his whole weight causing to shake it. You gave a delirious laugh, still waking up.
“You guessed right, sweetheart,” He said before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in from behind.
“You’re such a smart girl,” Eddie cooed in your ear before running his hands on your stomach and along the waistband of your panties.
“Someone sounds like they had a good time at Gareth’s birthday party,”
Eddie smiled, burying his face in your hair and laughing a bit at the comment.
“I did,” Eddie pulled you closer and nuzzled into your neck, softly kissing as he spoke. “But I’m glad to have my girl back in bed with me.”
You hummed before you pulled up his hand to kiss his palm.
“Mm. Happy you’re home too baby. I don’t know if I’m totally thrilled that you’re hammered, but-“
“Relax, I got a ride home,” Eddie mumbled. His small kisses along your neck was driving you wild.
“Okay, good. At least you made some responsible choices,” You joked.
“I am responsible,” Eddie grinned, his breath warm against your skin.
As you two spoke, Eddie's hand began to trail lower and lower down your stomach. He stopped once he reached your thighs before he gently gripped the soft flesh.
"I can't believe you weren't out with me,” Eddie muttered against your neck.
“I couldn’t help but think about you all night” He whispered.
The tone of his voice sounded sweet in your ear despite his alcohol-fueled state.
“Is that right?” You giggled. “What were you thinking about?” Your voice was quiet but lustful.
Eddie’s fingers slowly teased the lace on your skin, lightly tracing the outline of your thong. His touch was already turning you into mush. Your heat radiated through the thong you wore, the more his fingers trailed around it, Eddie smirked, enjoying the way it made you shiver.
“I was thinking about-” he began as he pulled your body closer to him until you could feel the heat of his breath along your ear.
“The way you sound when I’m on top of you. The way your skin tastes when I kiss every part of you,” He growled.
You let out a soft moan as he repeatedly kissed along your jaw, catching a couple kisses on your lips in the process of turning back to him.
“You sure you’re up for this, baby? It sounded like you stumbled into the room. You might be too drunk,” You said with slight concern, but you also knew what he wanted and you were not in the mood to turn him down.
Eddie laughed a bit. “I’m not too drunk, baby. I've missed you,” he slurred.
He could feel himself getting worked up just being next to you. You could feel him pressing up against your backside.
“You feel that,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.
Your breathing hitched as you felt his length through the denim of his jeans. He pressed it right against the curve of your ass.
“Of course I feel it,” you scoffed, jokingly.
“That’s all for you,” Eddie started to grind himself against you, his hips slowly rolling into you. “Want you so bad,” He started to breathe heavily against you.
The way he slurred his words would typically annoy you, but they were so endearing when he was whispering dirty nothings into your ear.
“You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna give me what I want?” He huffed as he worked at you.
“Mhm. Whatever you want, baby,” You said with desire.
Eddie gently rolled you onto your back so he could hover over you.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he whispered, taking a quick second to admire your body. “So gorgeous,” he added as he started to run his hands up and down your thighs.
“You going to be a good girl then? Give me.. a show,” he teased.
“What else do you wanna see?” Your eyes twinkled at him as you pushed one strap off your shoulder.
Your perspective lit flames on your skin. You saw nothing but his big, dark eyes surrounded in his black curls falling down towards you. Eddie watched hungrily as you bared more of your skin for him to look at. His eyes were hazy as he stared back at yours.
Your soft, but quickened breaths filled the air as took the hem of your tank top and lifted it over your head, putting your chest on display for him.
“My pretty, pretty girl,” Eddie groaned, starting to run one of his hands up your legs. He started to run one of his hands up your leg. He could feel the heat of your skin through the silk of your panties as he placed his thumb over it
“Eddie,” You gasped as you felt him tracing around your clit.
“Such a sweet girl,” His finger continued to rub over you, feeling the way your skin got hotter as he applied more pressure. “Missed me that badly?” He whispered before pressing his thumb harder against the spot of wetness. He could feel himself growing harder just listening to the sounds you made. His eyes flicked from your face, to your chest and your shaking legs as he slowly pressed his thumb harder. He could feel how worked up you were, but he still wanted you to hold on and wait for it.
“You’re so needy,” he muttered in your ear with a smirk while rubbing his thumb in small circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. His dark eyes continued to drink in the sight of you.
“Isn’t that what you wanted when you came in?” You smiled wide, your eyelids heavy as you bucked your hips up into his touch. The fabric now heavily soaked now as he rolled over your aching center. Eddie groaned in response to watching you writhe under him, his eyes still taking in the sight of you while holding you firmly in place with one of his broad hands.
“Maybe a little,” Eddie admitted with a lustful grin. “You want more don’t you?” He teased before leaning down to place open mouthed kisses on your neck, his hot tongue running along your skin.
You shuddered against him, trying your hardest to let him lead you. His pace was torturous but it’s just how you liked it.
“Mhm… I need it,” You nodded and smiled wickedly, your voice stuttering.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Eddie groaned.
He let his thumb go, the absence of the touch making you feel even more strung out.
His hands gripped your underwear and started to pull them down painfully slowly as his dark eyes watched you.
“You’re so goddamn pretty,” he exhaled shakily.
You felt his warm breath surround your legs and your aching center as he dragged the silk underwear down your legs. Your eyes were wide with anticipation as he pawed at your legs.
You couldn’t help but squirm under his touch, desperately wanting more friction between you two. He sat up and spread your legs apart, giving him a full view of you in the moonlight.
“So eager for me,” he teased, the corner of his lip tugging up in a smirk as he ran his hand up your thigh and towards your heat. “Tell me that’s all for me,” He muttered.
“It’s all for you, babe. I’m all yours,” You whispered back, your hips involuntarily lifting as you felt his fingers dragging upwards toward your core. Your hands were placed down at your sides, clawing at your bedsheets.
“That’s my girl,” he groaned as he teased with a smirk before finally running his thumb down between your slit.
He felt the heat and the wetness against his skin, your reaction making him groan louder than he intended to.
“So wet for me,” Eddie muttered before leaning down and placing gentle kisses on your inner thighs. His eyes flicking between watching your face twisted in pleasure
“All yours, Eddie,” You mused.
Your breaths would rise and fall with his touches. The further his touch was from your sensitive button, the softer the moans, only growing with intensity as he got closer. You can feel yourself growing impatient, but you knew to claim the prize, you had to play his game.
You curiously put a hand on his, seeing if he’d let you control the pace of things.
Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as your hand covered his, and let you push his fingers towards where you wanted them with a lazy grin.
“So impatient, baby,” he teased, watching the hand under his, move with it as he reached the spot you desperately wanted him to touch.
You looked up at him, trying to keep your eyes open as you led his hand to rub in just the way you liked. You could tell he wanted to stare back at you, but all he was looking at was how inviting your pussy was, now spilling out love onto the sheets. Watching you make yourself feel good by guiding his touch had him mesmerized.
“My pretty girl. So desperate to be touched,” he breathed, his smirk turning into a mischievous grin as his fingers started to move a bit quicker, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves in tight circles.
“You’re so hot like this,” he let out a deep growl as he watched you and continued to work on undoing you while his other hand grabbed at your hip to keep you still.
“Look at you, making such a mess,” Eddie groaned in your ear, his pace increasing slightly, desperate to see you fall apart.
“You see how much I need you?” Your words were ladened with desire between small gasps.
You knew you were getting close to a peak. You gripped around his wrist, making him hold his pace as you were reaching climax.
“I see it, baby,” Eddie mimicked your tone, his gaze never leaving you as he watched you get closer and closer to the edge.
He could see how close you were, the way your body was tensing and you were desperately biting down on your lip.
His pace stayed steady as he watched you, his heart racing from the thought of pleasing you.
“Let go for me, pretty girl,” he muttered, groaning just thinking about it.
“Shit!” You hissed.
With one great thrust of your hips you climaxed against his rough fingers. The once quiet room now echoed back your moan as you came, riding out on his fingers as you went back down.
You laid there in front of him, slightly limp and completely helpless. You giggled briefly before catching your breath.
“Thank you, baby,” You took his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles, looking up at him in adoration.
“Of course, baby,” he cooed, his dark eyes looking down at you.
He moved on top of you, his hands going down to the denim on his hips as he started to unbutton them. “You ready for more?”
“Do you even need to ask?” You laughed some more, your eyes following him as he took off his clothes.
Your breath hitched to see just how hard he was, practically springing out as he shoved off his boxers.
“Oh god, I need you,” You whispered almost inaudibly.
He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he heard you.
“Say that again,” Eddie muttered, his voice quiet as he hovered above you, his body pressed into yours.
His eyes searched yours as he settled in between your thighs, placing one hand by your head as the other started to trace down your body. “Tell me what you need, baby.”
“I need you inside me,” You shivered, feeling his hands run over your curves.
The heat between both of your legs couldn’t be ignored. You could feel him twitch against your soft entrance, just waiting for him to slip it in. Eddie groaned and closed his eyes as he listened to you, already breathless from the anticipation. His hips buckled against you a bit and he shuddered as he felt the heat between your legs against the tip of him.
“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he groaned before kissing you again.
You moaned back into his mouth, your nails digging into his back as you felt him enter you. He went at an achingly slow pace, but the sensations were too good to complain. His strokes would go all the way out before pumping fast and deep inside you. It drove you mad.
“It-You… You feel good,” You struggled to even comment.
Your eyes were rolling back into your head with each thrust. Eddie grinned at the small compliments, his eyes staying locked on yours as he continued to thrust into you. He watched as your eyes grew heavy and you almost lost your words.
“Can’t even talk anymore, baby?” Eddie’s eyes clenched shut for a moment as your legs surrounded his waist. He groaned at the words that came out of your mouth but he had no intentions on stopping.
He leaned down to kiss you again, the kiss was sloppy and wet as his pace began to quicken. His hand grabbed your thigh, keeping it against him as he picked up the pace.
“You’re such a good girl, taking it all for me,” Eddie said frantically between grunts. His quickened pace only meant one thing. He was going to finish soon.
“Where do you want me to come?” He asked in a trembling breath.
“Where do you want to come? I want you to have what you want,” You said before kissing his forehead, a small moment of affection during the rough, heightened experience. It was as if he could feel himself growing closer with each word and breath that came out of your mouth.
“Inside you,” He declared in a grunt. “I wanna fill you,” The words left his lips before he could even think it through, but the sight of you beneath him, breathless and all
“Go ahead, baby. You can do it,” You said with lustful encouragement.
Your legs wrapped around him tighter as he was rutting against you. Your hand brought his head down to you and brushed away his messy curls. Once you saw his neck you started to suck at the sensitive area right below his jaw. He shuddered at the touch of your lips on his sensitive skin, breathing in deeply as you sucked.
“Fuck,” he moaned, his head tilting back as his breathing became heavier. His body was tensing up, desperate to come undone, but he waited just a moment longer. “You going to come too?” He said, breathless.
“Uh huh,” You mimicked his volume, as you tugged lightly at his hair. He pinned you down pretty well, but there was still space for you to roll your hips up into him and so you did it, knowing it’d be the end of him. Eddie couldn’t keep himself together any longer as he felt your hips roll up into him.
His breath hitched and caught in the back of his throat as his pace slowed, his body tensing up just a little bit more.
Then, after one more roll of your hips, he finally caved. He buried his head against you as you both came, groaning loudly as his hips gave a few sharp thrusts, riding his way through it.
He tried to catch his breath as he laid on top of you, taking a few moments before he pulled away to look at you while panting slightly.
“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, affectionately running his hand along your jaw.
“Oh everything is perfect,” You exhaled happily.
Eddie let a goofy smile take over his face, and laid down next to you, pulling you into his side as he settled in next to you. Soon you were off back to sleep.
#i deeply apologize for this one i am in heat#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic
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It‘s Late
Azriel x Reader; I don't know how this short story happened, but I had an idea and @brekkershadowsinger helped develop it hehe. Warning, this is smut with very little plot.
"It‘s late, baby." Your hands sneak around your mate’s strong shoulders in tender caress, sliding down to his chest and his shadows awaken at your closeness, swirling around you and brushing over your arms. "Come to bed."
Azriel groans at your touch, his body relaxing in reaction to it. You can feel the shift, a warm, rich feeling greeting you through the bond, welcoming you and wrapping around you like a cosy embrace. Love.
"I‘ll be there shortly … one more report, my mate." His voice sounds almost a bit pained, almost like he has to force himself to continue with the reports and not leave them as they are and fully you straight away.
You can feel he wants to join you in bed, more than anything else. But his spymaster duty is not something he doesn’t easily put aside.
His body tenses. Tipping his head back, he pulls his lower lip between his teeth. You take it as a chance to kiss his cheek.
Tonight, you‘re having none of it. You don’t want to wait and you know how desperately he needs a break.
"I want you now." You place a kiss to the spot right beneath his ear..
He grinds his teeth, every muscle in his body tense. He is fighting his desire to join you and you almost have to giggle.
"Five more minutes,” he grinds out.
You kiss a path down to his ear, hovering right above it. Then you kiss his earlobe. "Now, my mate, or I‘ll put on my clothes again."
The shadowsinger spins around so fast you barely have time to catch yourself on his broad shoulders to keep you upright. He blows out a long breath, eyes darkening as they skate over your body. "Fuck me." He smacks his hand over his face and wipes it down harshly. "Don’t do this to me. Rhys needs those reports tomorrow."
"And I," —you step between his legs, veiling your voice in a sultry tone as you lean in— "need you."
His hands are on your hips in an instant. "Rhys is going to kill me," he says but keeps pulling you in until you slide onto his lap, legs braced on either side of his hips. His chin drops, and he leans in to kiss your neck. "And all because of my pretty little and terribly needy mate." His voice has changed, now having a sensual hue to it and is at least an octave deeper.
You sigh at the feeling of his lips closing over your neck, before he lets his tongue poke out and glide over your heated skin. “What shall I do with you now?” He tips his head back, an almost wicked grin on his lips. “Distracting me? Making me delay my reports for the High Lord? I assume this calls for some punishment?”
You lean forward, making sure you breast touch his chest, your hand falling to his neck, fingers curling around it. “Or you reward me, for being such a good mate who‘s always needy for you.” You glance up at him through lower lashes, his arousal already pressing against you through the fabric of his cotton pants.
His eyes are dark as the lock with yours, his scarred fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.
“Needy you say?” His right hand slides to your aching centre. “Let me see how needy you are.” A grin appears on his lips as he lets his middle finger slide through your wetness.
“You‘re dripping with arousal.” The grin only widens. “And all of it for me.”
“All for you, Az.” You want to grind against his gingers for some sort of friction, hoping he will give you exactly what you need but he moves his hand away, lifting it to his lips to lick it clean.
“Then I shall truly reward you.” He sharply pulls you in, your lips only inches apart. “Tell me what you want. What you need. How you want me.”
“I need you, Az. I need you to make me feel good,” you breathe against his mouth. “Plea—”
He steals the word from your lips as he kisses you, desperate and hungry, almost like a starved male. And as your lips merge, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, he begins to move your hips, grinding you against his growing hardness.
“Az!” you gasp, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. “More. I need more.”
You don’t have to tell him twice. With strength that is beyond you he lifts you onto his desk —onto the reports— spreading your thighs wide before lifting your legs over his shoulders, the tips of your toes touching the leathery membrane of his wings.
“So wet,” Azriel hums against your skin as his lips cast down the inside of your thighs, lower and lower, until he kisses your throbbing centre.
He doesn’t only kiss you there. He drives his tongue deep into you, nibbling and suckling, feasting. All the while his fingertips into your thighs, into your ass, kneading until one of them wanders to your centre accompanying his tongue, playing with your clit.
Slick noises fill the air around you as your hips lift off the desk, grinding against his face. Your eyes glaze over with desire, fingers curling around the desk for support, knuckles turning white.
You call out his name, and curses as his tongue licks at your clit, fingers driving deep into you, and your climax nears in tidal waves.
And when you finally come, it hits you hard. Like your body is on fire, your soul ascending, rising and falling, but Azriel is there to catch you. He helps you ride out your high, his head still between your legs, licking and kissing.
You tug at his hair, making him tips his head up. His fave is damp with you, with your arousal and Azriel grins from one ear to the other. It‘s the most beautiful sight you have ever seen, seeing your mate smile, grin.
Your legs continue to tremble, chest lifting and falling with deep intakes of air, as you come down from your high. Your mate gently lowers your legs, then pulls you back onto his lap, holding you close to his chest. “My pretty little mate, you‘re the best distraction a male could ever ask for.” He kisses the top of your head and you can feel him smile against your hair.
Your arms sneak around him, your face pressed against his chest. “Bath?”
“Absolutely.”
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tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel
#azriel x reader#acotar#acosf#azriel#acotar x reader#azriel x you#we’re going a little back to the roots
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nicest guy: 22. unspoken desires
word count: ~5.5k words + 7 screenshots
warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, jake and hoon hate each other, lil bit voyeurish (spoilers), very suggestive
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There’s something uniquely terrifying about being invited to a college party—especially when it’s at Yeonjun’s frat house. Not in the way horror movies are, where someone’s about to get stabbed by a masked lunatic. No, this is worse. This is the kind of terrifying that comes from knowing the night will definitely end in chaos, and somehow, you’ll be at the center of it.
more under the cut
The last time you set foot in Yeonjun’s chaotic palace of regrets and poor decisions, Sunghoon puked on your cousin—yes, your actual flesh-and-blood cousin who was just trying to enjoy a casual Friday night. The cops showed up ten minutes later, and you ended up hiding in a room with both Jake and Sunghoon. To top it off, your older brother almost got arrested because someone (and you’re not saying it was Woonhak, but let’s be real, it was Woonhak) thought it’d be funny to sneak into the party, got stuck in the bushes outside, and caused such a commotion that he got 2 million likes on TikTok sharing his story.
So yeah, when Jake—quarterback extraordinaire and human golden retriever—invited you to another party at Yeonjun’s, your first instinct was to laugh. Your second instinct was to say no, but Jake’s puppy eyes were criminally persuasive.
You caught that subtle hint of “I’ll literally implode if you don’t come.” Jake’s crush on you wasn’t exactly subtle. It was the kind of crush that was written all over his face every time he saw you, like he was auditioning for a rom-com where he was the lovable idiot and you were the girl who was way too good for him.
Then there was Sunghoon, who… well, let’s just say he was a different breed. If Jake was a golden retriever, Sunghoon was a cat. One of those sleek, arrogant ones that you desperately wanted to pet, even though you knew they’d probably claw your hand off. He’d be there too. Of course he would. The universe had a sick sense of humor like that.
Now you’re standing in front of your closet, trying to decide if you want to look hot enough to make Jake’s jaw drop, or just cool enough to get under Sunghoon’s skin.
So you decided to have some fun. At least.
When you finally arrive at Yeonjun’s, the bass from the music is already thudding so hard it feels like it’s trying to crack the pavement. Sunoo and Giselle, your best friends and loyal companions for this adventure, are walking on either side of you, both armed with energy that screams “let’s make tonight unforgettable.”
Inside, the party is already in full swing, and you’re immediately greeted by the familiar chaos: red solo cups everywhere, someone already trying to drunkenly rap along to the music, and Yeonjun himself standing on a table pretending to DJ. You scan the room until your eyes land on your brother, who’s laughing with none other than Sunghoon.
Great. Sunghoon. Just your luck.
Your brother waves you over, and as you approach, you realize the group is bigger than you expected. Sunghoon, of course, is there, but so is Jay, his roommate, along with Leehan and Taesan, who you recognize from the last party disaster.
“Y/n!” your brother calls, throwing an arm around your shoulder like he hasn’t seen you in years. “Finally, you’re here.”
You exchange greetings, but your eyes keep flickering to Sunghoon, who’s watching you with that unreadable expression he always has. He’s been acting weird around you lately, and you’re pretty sure you know why. He wants you back. He’s finally admitted it to himself, even if he’ll never say it out loud.
Still, he’s sticking close, hovering just enough to make his presence known. And as much as you’d like to ignore it, you can’t help but notice the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only person in the room. It’s unsettling—and annoyingly flattering.
But you’ve got bigger problems. Like the fact that Jake is also here, and you need to go say hi to him. After all, he’s the one who invited you, and it would be rude not to. You excuse yourself from your brother’s group, promising to catch up later, and head toward the other side of the room where you spotted Jake. Jake, incredibly hot Jake.
Jake lights up when he sees you, his grin as bright and boyish as ever. “Y/n! You made it!”
“Of course I did,” you say, returning his smile. “I couldn’t miss the big victory party, could I?”
“Exactly,” Jake says, clearly thrilled that you’re here. “We totally crushed it last week, didn’t we? Sunghoon and I were unstoppable out there.”
“You were great,” you agree, though you can’t help but notice the slight tension in his voice when he mentions Sunghoon. The two of them may be incredible on the field, but off the field, their mutual dislike is impossible to ignore.
“Speaking of Sunghoon,” Jake says, glancing over your shoulder, “is he still glued to you, or did he finally give you some space?”
You turn to see Sunghoon not far away, leaning against a wall but very much keeping you in his line of sight. The look on his face when your eyes meet is enough to send a shiver down your spine. It’s almost like a challenge, daring you to ignore him.
“I asked both of you to be civil tonight,” you remind Jake with a raised eyebrow. “Can you at least try?”
Jake sighs dramatically but nods. “For you? Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”
Sunghoon leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on you and Jake as if they were glued there by some invisible force. He hated this—hated how much he noticed the way Jake’s grin widened when you laughed, how easily you seemed to click with him. But mostly, he hated the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
There was something magnetic between you two, something that made it impossible for Sunghoon to keep his distance. He didn’t want to admit it at first, but lately, it was all he could think about. The way your smile made his chest tighten, the way your presence turned every room into something brighter, warmer. And it wasn’t just him—he knew Jake felt it too. He could see it in the way Jake looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.
This wasn’t the first time he and Jake had been in this situation, though. A painful memory tugged at the edges of his mind, a memory he wished he could bury. Wonyoung. That name alone was enough to make his stomach twist. Back when he and Jake were friends—actual friends, not whatever tense truce they had now—they’d both fallen for Wonyoung. She’d played them both, lied to them, and left their friendship in ruins. But neither of them knew the full truth about what happened, not really. Sunghoon had tried to piece it together, but the whole thing still felt like a mess of half-truths and unanswered questions.
And now, here they were again, caught in a silent war over you.
He clenched his jaw, watching as Jake led you across the room to meet his friends. Sunghoon’s fists tightened at his sides, but he didn’t move. Not yet. He didn’t want to cause a scene, especially not here. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that history was about to repeat itself—and this time, it would be worse.
Jake, on the other hand, was living his best life. He couldn’t believe you were actually here, standing next to him, smiling like you weren’t the most gorgeous person in the room. He’d been planning this all week—trying to make sure everything was perfect, or at least as perfect as it could be at Yeonjun’s chaotic house party.
“Come on,” Jake said, his hand brushing yours as he guided you through the crowd. “Let’s find the guys."
When you reached their group, they greeted you like an old friend. Heeseung was the first to pull you into a quick hug, his usual warm grin lighting up his face. “Y/n! Finally. Jake’s been insufferable all week, you know. All, ‘Do you think she’ll come? What should I wear?’ It was tragic.”
“Shut up,” Jake groaned, rubbing the back of his neck while you laughed.
Beomgyu piped up next, his energy as chaotic as ever. “And don’t forget how he made us all run drills twice this week. ‘Gotta keep the momentum from the game,’” Beomgyu said, mimicking Jake’s voice. “It’s a party, not a press conference, dude.”
“You’re just mad I benched you last semester,” Jake shot back, smirking.
Beomgyu held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair. But hey, at least now they know I’m not just a benchwarmer.”
“They should’ve known that the second you stepped on the field,” you said, giving him a small smile. “That last game? You killed it.”
Beomgyu’s grin widened. “Thanks, Y/n. At least someone here appreciates me.”
Soobin chimed in with a dry laugh. “Don’t let it go to your head, Beomgyu.”
The banter flowed easily, the group dynamic comfortable and familiar. But despite the lighthearted vibe, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was brewing. You’d caught Sunghoon watching you earlier, his gaze heavy, like he was trying to tell you something without words. And Jake—he was trying so hard to keep your attention, but there was an edge to him tonight, a tension that didn’t quite match his usual easygoing demeanor.
Later, Jake led you outside, away from the noise and chaos of the party. The cool night air wrapped around you as you stepped onto the deck, and for a moment, it felt like you could breathe again.
Jake leaned against the railing, his hands in his pockets as he looked over at you. “You’re having fun, right?”
“I am,” you said, smiling. “Your friends always make it easy.”
“They like you,” Jake said, his voice softer now. “I mean… who wouldn’t?”
The way he was looking at you made your stomach flip. There was something different about his expression—something serious, almost vulnerable. He took a step closer, the tension between you building with each passing second. The cool night air was a relief after the chaos inside, and you leaned against the railing, letting out a breath. Jake stood next to you, that signature lopsided grin playing on his lips.
“But they speak way too much,” he sighed. “Thought I’d never get you alone.”
You raised a brow. “Oh? That was your goal all along?”
He chuckled, tilting his head. “What can I say? Gotta take my chances.”
It was easy with Jake. The banter, the teasing—it never felt forced. And maybe that’s what made moments like this dangerous.
“Gotta admit,” he continued, eyes flicking to yours, “you look really good tonight.”
The way he said it, casual but undeniably flirty, sent a small thrill down your spine.
“You say that like I don’t always look good,” you shot back, smirking.
Jake laughed, bumping his shoulder against yours. “Okay, fair point.”
For a moment, the conversation lulled, but it wasn’t awkward. Just… charged. He was close, and you could tell he was waiting for something. A sign, maybe.
And then his expression shifted—just slightly, but enough for you to notice.
Before you could respond, the door to the backyard opened, and Sunghoon stepped out, his eyes immediately locking with yours. Jungwon was with him, even though he had no idea you were there with Jake. Sunghoon looked like he had something on his mind, but when he saw Jake next to you, his expression tightened.
Jungwon and Sunghoon approached you and Jake, their casual demeanor almost making you forget how tense things were between them. Sunghoon gave you a nod, his eyes briefly lingering on you before shifting to Jake. Jungwon seemed to sense the shift, giving a little shrug as he offered Sunghoon the joint. "Alright, no fights tonight, okay? Let's just keep it chill."
Sunghoon took the joint with a grin that barely concealed the edge in his voice. "Yeah, yeah, no promises," he said, his eyes locking onto Jake for a second too long. The message was clear: they were both trying to play nice, but it was only because you asked them to. And neither of them were doing it because they wanted to.
"Hey," Jungwon greeted with his usual friendly grin. "You two good?"
"Yeah," you answered, flashing a smile. "Just enjoying the fresh air."
Sunghoon didn’t say much, just a subtle tilt of his head as he looked at both of you. His eyes then shifted to the joint in his hand, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Want a hit?" Sunghoon asked, his voice smooth, offering it to you and Jake. The offer hung in the air, the tension between him and Jake as thick as the smoke curling around them.
Jake shot Sunghoon a glance, his posture stiffening for just a second. "Nah, we’re good," he said, quickly turning to you. "Right, Y/N?"
You shrugged, but the playful glint in your eye didn’t escape Sunghoon's notice. "I’m good," you replied, your voice light. "But thanks."
"Alright then," Sunghoon said, exhaling smoke and offering a small smile. He didn’t wait for any more responses before walking away, Jungwon falling into step beside him.
As they walked off, you noticed how Sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you with heat in his stare. It was like a challenge, and something in his eyes told you that he wasn’t done with this game yet.
The moment felt charged—electrified—but it broke when Jake cleared his throat, putting a hand gently on your arm. "Let’s head back inside," he suggested, his voice more urgent than usual. "We’re missing all the fun."
As you walked back into the party with Jake, the noise and chaos of Yeonjun's house party immediately swallowed you up. The beat of the music thudded in your chest, and the air was thick with laughter, chatter, and the scent of alcohol. Jake’s hand brushed against yours briefly, but when you reached the group of your friends, he gave you a quick nod, clearly excited to see them.
"Catch you later," he said, his grin easy and casual as he drifted off toward Heeseung and some of the others.
But just before he turned away, you caught a flash of irritation in his eyes. It was subtle, hidden under the mask of his usual charm, but you could tell. He hadn’t gotten his chance with you yet, and that was clearly bugging him. The thought of being brushed off for now didn’t sit well with him, but he wasn’t about to let it show. Not yet.
You could almost feel the weight of his unspoken frustration as he turned his back, but as he made his way through the crowd, his determination was clear. He wasn’t going to give up on you that easily.
You waved him off, letting him disappear into the crowd as you focused on Sunoo and Giselle, who were already waving you over.
"Finally managed to escape the chaos outside?" Sunoo teased, his usual grin spreading across his face. You joined them, enjoying the chat, but there was still a lingering sense of tension that you couldn’t shake off. You tried to push it aside, making the most of the time with your friends.
As Jake disappeared into the crowd, you didn’t think much of it. Instead, you turned back to your friends, a mischievous grin spreading across your face as you decided to let loose for a bit. The rest of the night carried on with drinks, laughter, and dancing. Sunoo and Giselle were already leading you in a ridiculous dance-off, and you were more than happy to oblige, tossing back shots and swaying to the beat as the music enveloped you.
For a while, you forgot all about the JakeHoon situation. The fun of the night kept you distracted, and you laughed harder than you had in a long time.
But as the night wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or rather, someone—was missing. When you finally found yourself in a quieter spot near the bar, nursing another drink and chatting with Giselle, you felt a flicker of that familiar, magnetic pull again. You turned your head just in time to see Sunghoon walking back into the party, his expression unreadable, but his eyes immediately locking onto yours.
It was almost as if the room quieted when he stepped in, the noise fading in the background as you watched him glide through the crowd with that undeniable confidence. And when his eyes landed on you, that quiet intensity returned, making your heart skip a beat.
He’d been gone for a while, but now, Sunghoon was back—and it seemed like he was looking for something… or maybe someone.
His movements were smooth and effortless, cutting through the crowd like he owned the place. His eyes never strayed from you as he made his way over, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking toward you with purpose—like a predator closing in on its prey.
"Hey," Sunghoon said when he reached you, his tone playful, though his gaze was anything but lighthearted. He quickly nodded toward your friends. "You having fun?"
Sunoo grinned back, and Giselle raised an eyebrow, but before either of them could say anything, Sunghoon’s attention shifted solely to you. He leaned closer, just enough to make you feel the warmth of his body next to yours. "Looks like you’ve been enjoying yourself," he remarked, his voice low and easy, as if they’d known each other for much longer than just tonight. What's that supposed to mean?
You raised an eyebrow, trying to match his tone. "Wouldn’t you be too, if you weren't in my shoes?" you replied, voice teasing.
Sunghoon smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m sure you’re used to all the attention by now," he said, giving you a once-over that made your skin prickle. His gaze lingered, and you felt that familiar tension building up between you two.
You chuckled softly, trying to play it off. "I don’t know. Seems like there’s always someone else trying to catch my eye."
Sunghoon’s lips twitched into a half-smirk. "Oh, I’m sure you can keep them waiting. Though," he leaned in a little closer, just enough to make you aware of his proximity, "I wouldn’t keep them waiting too long."
As you exchanged words, you felt a pair of eyes watching you from the corner of your vision. Glancing over, you caught a glimpse of Jake standing across the room, his eyes fixed on the two of you. He didn’t approach, but the tension in his stare was unmistakable.
Sunghoon noticed too, and a smirk tugged at his lips. He pulled back just slightly, his tone shifting. "You should get back to your boyfriend," he said, the words dripping with playful challenge. His gaze, however, was still locked on you, the heat in it not quite masked by the lighthearted remark.
After Sunghoon left, you kept talking with Sunoo and Giselle, trying to shake off the weirdness in the air. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know Sunghoon’s eyes were on you the entire time. The guy had a way of looking at you like you were his next challenge, and you were starting to get a little tired of it. Or, well, maybe not tired, more like… intrigued?
You were at the bar, scanning the options for your next drink when you felt a familiar presence behind you. Without even having to look, you could feel the tension in the air—it was Jake. You half-turned and gave him a smile. He was leaning against the bar, looking at you like he was about to say something, but there was a little more intent in his gaze than you were used to.
"Hey," Jake said, eyes scanning you quickly, like he was checking for any signs of discomfort. "Everything good?"
"Yeah, just getting a drink," you replied, glancing around at the chaos of the party. It was busy, loud, and full of people—yet, it felt like the noise started to fade when he stood next to you.
Jake leaned in, his arm brushing against yours as he spoke. "Just don’t go overboard with the drinks, alright?" He flashed you a teasing smirk, but there was something softer underneath. "But if you do get a little too wild, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Just like you did for me last time."
You raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by the shift in tone. "You really think I need someone to take care of me?" you teased, your lips curving into a smile.
He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. "Well, considering how you saved me from turning into a disaster last time, I figured I’d return the favor." His eyes glinted with a mischievous spark as he added, "But honestly, I’d rather just have you around and make sure you’re enjoying the night."
You smirked, a little flattered but still keeping up the playful attitude. "I’m a big girl, Jake. I think I can handle it."
Jake's grin widened, his eyes locking onto yours with that familiar intensity. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice lower now, almost like he was sharing a secret.
"I know you're a big girl," he said with a playful wink. "But that doesn't mean I can't look out for you. Besides, there's something about keeping you close that makes everything a lot more fun."
You could feel the heat of his words, and it made your heart race a little faster. His tone was smooth, almost dangerously charming. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was enjoying getting under your skin, pushing all the right buttons.
You leaned back against the bar, trying to play it cool. "I’m not sure if you’re trying to flirt with me or just make me feel like I’m about to be babysat, but it’s working either way."
Jake laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with that familiar cocky energy. "Maybe a little bit of both," he teased, then added with a smirk, "But hey, if you’d rather I just focus on keeping you entertained instead of worrying about your drinks, I’m all for that too."
You felt the tension between you two, a pull that only seemed to grow stronger with each word. The music of the party seemed to fade out completely as you locked eyes with him again.
"Alright, so what’s your plan then?" you asked, leaning in just slightly.
Jake took a slow step back, his grin never faltering. "How about I show you a quieter spot?" He raised an eyebrow as he glanced toward the stairs. "We can talk a little more. I promise it’s not as boring as it sounds."
You glanced toward the staircase for a moment, then back at him. A part of you was curious, but you weren’t sure if this was just another one of his playful moves—or something more.
"Lead the way," you said, trying to keep your voice casual, though there was a spark of excitement in your chest.
Jake’s smile was triumphant as he gestured toward the stairs. "This way, then."
As you followed him up the stairs, you couldn’t help but notice the way he moved, confident, almost like he knew exactly how to get under your skin. And as you reached the top of the stairs, you realized there was no backing out now—this was going to be one interesting night.
As you and Jake made your way up the stairs, you couldn’t help but notice Sunghoon standing a little further away, his eyes locked on you two. He looked… well, you couldn’t quite place it, but there was definitely something in his gaze. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t exactly admiration either. It was like a mix of confusion, jealousy, and, strangely enough, something else.
You could feel it, but you didn’t have time to linger on it too long. Jake's hand brushed yours as you reached the top of the stairs, and the tension between you two was almost unbearable.
Just as you stepped onto the landing, Jake glanced back, only to find Sunghoon still watching you. Their eyes for a split second, and it was almost like a silent exchange, like they were sizing each other up. Sunghoon took a slow sip from his drink, eyes narrowing slightly, almost as if he was giving Jake some kind of… permission.
Jake, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed. As you passed a group of people laughing and chatting, you caught a glimpse of Heeseung entering a room with a girl. Jake didn’t recognize her at first, but the moment he saw her face, he remembered the girl's name. Ronnie. Heeseung's situationship. Jake lets out a quiet laugh, though he’s already turning his attention back to you.
Jake, still leading you down the quieter part of the hall, was all smiles as he glanced back at you. “So, what do you think? Pretty nice spot, huh?”
You took in the vibe of the hallway. It was quieter here, a little more private, but not entirely deserted. You could still hear some laughter and faint music from the main area of the party. "Yeah, definitely not the worst place to escape to."
Jake turned to face you, a teasing grin on his face. “Well, you know, I don’t just bring anyone up here.”
You smirked, not missing the implication. “I’m honored, then.”
The playful tension was thick between you two now, and you could tell Jake was trying to decide whether to make his move or not. His eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment, and you felt your heart skip a beat. His smirk turned into something more genuine, more real. He wasn’t just playing anymore—he was figuring out whether you were the kind of girl who would let him take the lead, or if you were going to make him work for it.
"You know," Jake says with that same cocky smile, "I’ve been thinking. You really know how to make everything more interesting than it should be. Not that I’m complaining, of course."
You raise an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? I thought I was just keeping things fun."
Jake chuckles, a little more softly this time. "Yeah, but I’m starting to think I might want to keep you to myself tonight. You know, less distractions."
His tone shifts just a little, something softer underneath the teasing. The air between you both feels a little heavier now, the kind of tension that makes your heart race.
As the playful banter continued, you both found yourselves moving a little closer, the tension building. And you both knew this moment was just about ready to hit a tipping point.
But before Jake could make any move, you noticed out of the corner of your eye—Sunghoon. He was still standing down the hall with Jay, but now, there was no mistaking the look on his face. It wasn’t just curiosity anymore. It was… something more. Jake noticed too, and his posture stiffened, though he didn’t acknowledge Sunghoon directly. He just kept his focus on you.
“You know,” Jake said, leaning in a bit more, “we’re not gonna get interrupted here. Not like back downstairs.”
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk forming. "You sure?"
Jake chuckled softly, eyes glinting with a touch of amusement. "Definitely not."
And just like that, you both knew—you didn’t need to rush this, but the moment had definitely arrived. As the moment stretched on, you realized this was it. The game was on.
The moment lingered in the air like a breath held too long. You and Jake stood there, just inches apart, the weight of it all between you. The conversation had slowed, but not because there was nothing to say—it was because words didn’t feel necessary anymore.
Jake brushed a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "You know, you're even more beautiful up close," he murmured, his voice low and smooth.
You smiled, the playful tension still hanging there. "Flattery, huh? Is that how you get girls?"
He grinned, his gaze shifting between your lips and your eyes. "If it works, yeah. But I think you're more than just… a pretty face."
He leaned in, just enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. Jake’s hand lingered on your chin, tilting your face just the right way, and you felt your heart race. His gaze was intense, but there was a softness in the way he looked at you, like he was waiting for permission, even though neither of you had said a word.
"Is this okay?" he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper, as if he needed you to say it aloud before he could take the next step.
You nodded, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "I think you know it is."
And just like that, his lips were on yours.
It wasn’t just a kiss. It was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment. He deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, his hands now at your waist, holding you tightly, as if the only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him.
His lips moved against yours with a steady pressure, coaxing you to lean into him. You let out a soft breath as the kiss deepened, and for a moment, everything else—the noise of the party, the other people in the house—disappeared entirely.
Jake’s lips were soft but demanding, his touch gentle but confident, and you couldn’t help but respond. His hand moved to the back of your neck, threading his fingers through your hair, and pulling you even closer, if that was even possible. The heat between you two was undeniable, and for once, everything around you felt irrelevant.
Your pulse quickened, your body instinctively reacting to his closeness. His lips were in perfect sync with yours, and the kiss became more urgent, more intense. You could feel his breath against your skin, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart racing just as fast as yours. His hand moved to your back, drawing you in so tightly you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.
His lips left yours briefly, and you felt him press his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, the space between you two almost unbearable. His voice was barely a whisper, filled with heat. “You make it hard to stop,” he muttered, his fingers trailing down your back in slow, deliberate motions.
You smirked, your hand brushing against his chest. “You’re not exactly trying to stop.”
Jake chuckled darkly, his lips curving into a smile as he kissed you again, deeper this time. You couldn’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his clothes. The kiss was no longer just a kiss.
And then, from the corner of your eye, you felt it. Someone was watching.
Sunghoon.
From a distance, he stood there, his eyes fixed on the scene. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a word, but the way he watched felt almost too intense. Like he was studying the moment, feeling the tension simmering in his chest, but not knowing what to do with it. His hand tightened around his drink, and Jay, standing beside him, noticed the subtle shift.
“You good?” Jay asked, giving Sunghoon a side glance, confused by the way his friend seemed both intrigued and irritated.
Sunghoon didn’t respond at first, his gaze still locked on Jake and you. His jaw clenched slightly, and for the first time, Jay wondered if there was something more going on in Sunghoon’s head. It was a weird mix of jealousy and something else he couldn’t quite place. Sunghoon didn’t say anything—he just sipped his drink, eyes never leaving the couple.
Meanwhile, Jake, completely oblivious to the silent observer, was enjoying the kiss, the quiet power of the moment. He knew Sunghoon was watching, could feel his presence from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t care. If anything, it made the kiss feel even more thrilling, knowing that someone else—someone who hated him—was helpless to look away.
And when the kiss finally broke, you were both left breathless, eyes locked. The distance between you two had disappeared, and it wasn’t just a physical space. Something else had shifted, something far deeper.
“So,” Jake said, voice husky as he leaned his forehead against yours, “What now, princess?”
You smirked, already feeling the spark between you two. "Guess we wait and see."
But neither of you could deny that the game had just begun.
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author's note: I ADDED AN EASTER EGG YES I INSERTED MYSELF I DONT FUCKING CARE I WANTED TO BE INVOLVED AND NOW IM HEESEUNG'S SITUATIONSHIP THANK YOU. and sunghoon's voyeurish. i wish you all a jubilant evening
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Hii ! I was hoping you could do Logan x Reader where all the teachers go to a club, and the Reader starts dancing with Storm and Jean while Logan is sitting on a couch, looking at her. They both have a crush on each other, but they don't know it, so when the Reader notices Logan staring at her, she gets shy and decides to go get a drink. When she got her drink, a guy starts flirting with her, and Logan obviously sees it. he gets jealous and walks up to the guy telling him to leave her alone. After they talk for a bit, the Reader accidentally confesses and Logan kisses her. this ends up in a private room with Logan fucking her as he always wanted. I know this is a long request and I'm sorry for that, bue I'm a writer myself, so I already had develop this bit of the story in my head. I completely understand if you don't want to do it. Hope you have an awesome day !!🤗❤️ Love your writing btw
a/n: I loved this prompt so much, did switch it up a bit bc I faced a bit of writer's block trying to flesh this out!! (and if I said I was listening to Thong Song while writing this, what then?)
18+ MDNI (fucking in a club bathroom, if that's not your thing, move on out)
Logan rummages around somewhere behind you, digging through the cabinets and moving everything around. The longer he searches, the more confused you grow. Your brows furrow as he cusses to himself.
There’s a low grunt of frustration as Logan rounds the kitchen island to glare at you. His face is screwed up in anger that seems to be misdirected towards you. You give him an awkward look, “Uh, hi?”
“He stole my booze,” he responds shortly and without explanation. You shake your head in confusion as the dots slowly connect. A small smile curls up on your lips but the glare he gives you makes it quickly drop.
“Well, you know Charles' rules about it,” you tell him flippantly. Logan huffs and shoves away from the counter. He turns back to the fridge, destroying the organizational system as he continues his search. You roll your eyes, eating your food and watching him with a bored expression.
Jean walks just as he really begins to work himself up. Her face pinches in distaste, catching on to the root of his anger quicker than you had. She looks at you with a small smirk. “Charles?”
“Yep," You answer, eyes still trained on him. He finally gives up the futile search, moving to stand beside you. Your eyes widen and you try not to physically react to his proximity. It’s an everyday struggle to remain calm around him. You’re desperately trying to keep a cool girl persona but you don’t think it's working.
You’re pretty sure he sees right through your pathetic attempts at nonchalance every time you two are paired on a mission. Jean notices the look on your face and smiles slightly. “The rest of us are thinking of going out tonight.”
It's not an offer with her, more of a demand for the two least sociable members of the team. She gives you both expectant looks, ignoring the way you minutely shake your head in disapproval at the idea of going out.
“Pass,” Logan grunts. He steps away from you, making for the kitchen door. Jean quickly steps in front of him, firmly placing her hand on his chest and giving him a stern look.
You feel like you're missing something as they silently converse with tense looks and aggressive eye motions towards you. You might be worried they're flirting if it weren't for how fed up they both look right now with one another.
Your brows furrow in confusion and it only worsens when Logan lets out an aggrieved huff. “Fine. I’ll come.” He gives Jean a thin smile, “Happy?”
She releases him and moves out of the way with a smug look. “Very. You’ll thank me, by the way.” She says to his retreating back, ignoring whatever he mutters back to her.
You’re completely lost about what that was but don't have much time to process it before Jean turns her attention to you. You already know what she wants and you immediately shake your head. “No, nope, you know I don’t like going out.” Jean smiles at you, but you know she’s just pretending to agree with you.
“Jean,” your voice is sharp as you glare at her. “Not happening.”
You really regret ever befriending her. She’s either ridiculously persuasive or she's used her mind-warping abilities on you.
You're squished between Ororo and Logan on a sticky club booth. The smell of booze and cheap perfume soaks through your senses. You feel the beginnings of a headache forming as the music pounds.
While you love the feeling of Logan's biceps pushed up against you, you hate the club more. Storm catches the tense look on your face and sighs in disappointment.
"We need to get some more alcohol in you," she tells you with a faux sense of authority. "Come on," she nods her head and for a moment you think she's talking to you. But, with a move that seems practiced, Scott and Jean both follow her out of the booth and head toward the bar.
You watch them go with a suspicious glint in your eye, not trusting how smoothly they all just conveniently slipped away. That leaves just you and Logan behind at the table and you doubt that's coincidental.
They've been a little pushy about this crush of yours ever since they found out. They insist that he feels the same way about you as you do him. But you sincerely doubt he's fantasizing about going on romantic picnics with you and thinking of mushy dates.
He seems like the kind of guy to value silence over a girlfriend and you doubt you're his type. You don't tend to stray from the rules, ever. You don't think there's much you two have in common, as much as the others insist the opposite.
You give him a subtle look over. He hasn't moved away from you, which seems like a good sign. There's plenty of space for him to go now, but he keeps himself pressed up against you.
But, he's also not looking at you. His thumb is idly tracing the rim of his glass and he's refusing to take his eyes off the stained wood of the table. You know he can feel the way you're staring at him, but he's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge your presence. It almost feels petty and that makes you scoff and roll your eyes at the thought. You doubt Logan cares enough to be petty.
Practically in love with me, you think sarcastically.
You know your friends are taking longer than necessary at the bar, trying to give the two of you some privacy. You feel like a high school girl, trying to get the cool guy to like her when he literally couldn’t give two shits.
Your friends being pushy about the two of you really isn't helping anything. It only gives you false hope, and when he's inevitably a jerk again, it just makes all your little fantasies come crashing down.
You pick up your glass, tipping your head back and letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out. You've done your hair, spent forever doing your makeup, and you put on your favorite slutty dress. You don't feel like sitting here all night sulking alongside your unrequited crush.
More often than not, Logan is nothing more than a wet blanket. You've put in the effort and dragged yourself outside for once, you'd like to enjoy the experience. He could come find you when he felt like pulling the stick out of his ass. You slide out of the booth with a huff, uncaring as the hem of your dress rolls up your thighs.
“Where’re you going?” Logan demands, voice gruff. Now he wants to pay attention, figures.
You turn around and glare down at him. His eyes rove slowly over you, the way they should have been all night. His gaze is a physical caress and his stare lingers along your body. You can practically feel his touch on the curves of your hips. Slowly, he looks back up to meet your eye, something like a challenge on his face.
You assess him, raising a brow and shrugging. “I’m gonna dance.” Something has possessed you or there’s a very talented telepath manipulating you right now. In a rare display of confidence you lean over the table, breasts pushed out towards him. “Wanna join me?” You ask, breath barely above a whisper.
He scoffs and goes back to glaring at the table. Whatever confidence you had settles coldly in the bottom of your gut. “Not my thing, kid,” he gripes, every bit the crotchety old man.
You roll your eyes, playing off the sting of rejection as an annoyance. “Of course, you’re not. You’re not having fun unless everyone else is miserable,” you snap. His eyes shoot up to meet yours, something like shock playing on his face.
You don’t let him respond, already turning on your heel and walking off. As much as you like Logan, sometimes this attitude of his becomes tiring. What’s wrong with wanting to have fun for a night?
You’re not usually a huge fan of clubs. But when you’re out with your friends, you’re not going to actively ruin their night. As rude as that was, it’s right. He’s the “cool” kid in high school who thought everything was lame and never wanted to enjoy anything.
So, what? You like to get a little drunk and sloppy sometimes, maybe if he ever tried it he might be less miserable. You head towards the bar, spotting Ororo’s hair easily through the crowd. You slide behind her, slipping your arm over her shoulder, “Hey pretty,” you whisper in her ear, laughing as she jumps.
She turns and glares at you, swatting at your shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t hurt you.”
“Ooh, save it for later.” She rolls her eyes and passes you a shot. You take it with a smile, wincing at the burn of the tequila. “You wanna dance?” You have to shout to be heard over the music but you know she hears you when her eyes widen in surprise.
She glances behind you and you don’t have to look to know Logan is glaring daggers at your back. You can feel him and it's pissing you off. “What happened?” You know she can tell something is up, you’re never this outgoing when you go out. But you don’t want to talk about finally coming to terms with the fact that you and Logan aren’t going to work out.
Instead, you hold your hand out and wink. “Wanna dance or not?” She laughs a little, slipping her palm into yours and letting you drag her out onto the dance floor. It’s been a while since you’ve actually been sober dancing. You usually like to be near blackout drunk, but you just don’t have the energy for that tonight.
Ororo is a little tipsier than you, clearly having been drinking while she was waiting at the bar. Her inhibitions are looser and she’s giggling as you move your hips against hers. Neither of you is dancing to impress, you’re messily moving around each other to the beat of the music. You don’t pay attention to the people around you, just having fun by yourselves.
Ororo takes your hand, spinning you a little and pulling you back into her arms. You laugh, swaying your hips to the same rhythm she is, chests pressed tightly together while you smile at each other.
She only lasts a few songs before she pulls back. “I need a drink,” she yells before stumbling back towards the bar. You feel yourself deflate, not sure what to do with yourself now that your favorite dancing partner has ditched you.
You look through the mass of grinding bodies and try and spot your table. You can’t see much through the brightly colored lights spinning all around you. Everything’s a little disorienting and the shots you’ve had aren’t helping.
Someone’s hand slips around your waist, “Your friend left you all alone?” Normally, you’d push whoever it was off and tell them to back off. But he’s got an attractive voice and you can feel how fit he is against your back.
“You gonna keep me company?” You tease, voice a low purr as you push back against him. Your hands drift down to his arms, pulling them a little tighter around your waist. He chuckles, the noise reverberating through your back.
You barely even get a chance to dance before your back is cold and you can feel his arms forcibly ripped off you. It doesn’t take much digging to find the culprit. Logan is behind you, hand fisted in the guy’s collar, “Why don’t you back off, bub?” He shoves him back and you roll your eyes as the guy scrambles off.
“What the hell was that?” You demand arms crossed as you glare at Logan.
He turns around and you’re surprised at the intensity of his glare. Something about it has you heated for an entirely different reason. He’s staring down at you like he’s gonna pounce on you. Your heart races, thighs clenching the longer he’s glowering at you.
He shouldn’t be allowed to be so attractive when he’s pissed off. He reaches forward, grabbing your bicep and jerking you into his chest. He leans down until his lips are brushing against your ear. “You wanna dance, let’s dance, kid.”
“What-”
He cuts you off, flipping you around and pulling your back flush against him. You can feel just how much your little show with Storm got him going. You truly weren’t doing anything too alluring, but it seems to be enough for him.
When you don’t move his hands drop to your hips and he grinds them down against him. “Logan,” you gasp his name out, caught off guard by how brazen he’s being in the middle of the club. There are people around you doing much worse but you’ve never known him to be this bold before.
“You trying to make me jealous?” It’s hard to pay attention to what he’s saying, to focus on anything at all when his hand is drifting steadily down your body. The tips of his fingers just barely brush the skin of your thigh while his thumb lets the hem of your dress curl up.
He flips you around, taking his hands off of you and instead tilting your chin up to face him. “I said,” he repeats in a condescending tone, “were you trying to make me jealous?” He doesn’t sound like he’s taking you seriously. Even if that was your intention, he thinks it’s just your petty way of lashing out at him for not dancing.
You narrow your eyes at him and swat his hands off of you. “No. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was trying to have some fun since you’re clearly not interested at all.”
That insufferable smirk of his doesn’t go away for a minute. If anything, he’s more incensed by your anger. “Who said I wasn’t interested?” Your lips part, another dumb little noise about to slip out when he dips down and stops you.
He’s not trying to be subtle at all, gripping your dress and tugging you up against him while your lips lock. His tongue dips briefly into your mouth, savoring the taste of tequila on your gums before he pulls back.
“I’m interested in you, kid, just not this shitty little club.” Your mouth is gaping and you feel like a fool, standing there and just staring at him. Your brain is completely scrambled, bits and pieces forming together to scream that he kissed you. Too many things are happening at once. The music is making the floor beneath you vibrate, liquor is warming you from the inside out and tilting you closer to him. And he kissed you. Your lips are still tingling from it.
He chuckles a little under his breath, keeping you moving steadily against him. You’re simply something to be puppeteered by your desire for him. No thoughts linger inside your brain except his name. “You’re interested in me?” You repeat dumbly.
He leans down, tilting his lips closer towards your ear. “You can’t feel how much I want you?” One of your thighs is practically draped over his leg and he’s grinding his hips against you. The only thing you can feel is him. The smell of his cologne overpowers all the bodies surrounding you both, his voice drones out the loud music around you. You’re completely consumed by him.
“Logan,” your tone is scandalized, you can’t believe he’s bold enough to have you nearly half-naked on his lap right now. Your butt is one wrong move away from being the club’s newest attraction. Yet, despite every protest lingering on your tongue, you can’t do anything except kiss him again.
You don’t know if the moment is all one vivid wet dream your brain has conjured up at three am and you don’t feel like finding out. You want to enjoy being risky for once. You always play everything so safely. You don’t confess your feelings to Logan so you aren’t rejected. You never break the rules, you never act out. Just once, you want to do something bad and enjoy it.
Your arms twine around his neck and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss further. You feel his reaction more than you hear it. A low grumble in his chest that has you practically vibrating with want. He pulls away from you first and it takes a moment for your eyes to flutter back open.
When you finally do meet his gaze again, he’s got nothing but a smoldering desire in his eyes that makes you want to melt. He’s staring you down like you’re prey to be chased and consumed. “Can’t do this here,” he mutters.
You’re almost shocked that he’s the first one to cut this off. You knew it was going to happen, you can’t exactly fuck in the middle of the dance floor. As much as you might want to. But you thought you would be the one to chicken out.
He grabs your hand and shoves through the throng of grinding bodies. You grab the back of his shirt, stumbling after him and trying to stay close. “As much as I’d like to make that poor son of a bitch watch me fuck you, we need a little more privacy.”
It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about the man you’d danced with earlier. If you could even qualify that as dancing. He’d barely put his hand on your waist before Logan had appeared out of nowhere.
Your eyes narrow in suspicion and you glare at his back. How had he even gotten to you so quickly? He must have been watching you like a creep the whole time. You almost want to laugh at the thought. But you’re distracted by him nudging you through a door and locking it behind you.
You glance around, spotting three sinks and some cracked mirrors. Toilet stalls linger to your right and your nose wrinkles in disgust. You turn around to complain but he’s already stalking toward you. Whatever sanitary complaints were lingering in the back of your throat are thrown out the sealed bathroom window.
He buries his hands in your hair, ruining the meticulously placed style. You arch into his hold, opening your mouth for him to explore and gasping as his hand drops to your hips. He tugs you closer, ripping your dress up and yanking your underwear down in one smooth move.
You barely have a second to process half of what’s happening before he’s got you bent over the sink. It’s all happening so fast, so many different desires of yours surging to the surface in one dingy club bathroom.
You’re slick with months of fantasies and sleepless nights where not even your vibrator could curb your desire for him. You hear his belt clink behind you and your back arches like a cat in heat. You practically present yourself to him, so desperate to feel him that you don’t care how much of a slut you’re being.
You know, if this was anyone else, you’d slap them for even suggesting the bathroom as the first place you have sex. But you’d have let Logan take you in the alley behind the club. You don’t care where you are, just so long as it's with him. And you know that desire runs a bit deeper than just a surface-level crush.
He doesn’t give you much warning as he thrusts into you. The breath is practically punched out of you as he fills you. Everything about it feels right. You’re so full of him you feel like you could explode. You know it’s going to take a pathetically short time for you to come. It’s just too much, too fast, you’re so overwhelmed by him.
“Oh god, Logan,” the porcelain creaks under your palms before you feel it splintering off into your skin. You can’t pay attention to it, though, jaw agape, capable of nothing more than slutty moans of his name.
He’s relentless behind you, thrusting so hard inside you that it feels like a punishment. He fists his hand in your hair and forces you to look in the mirror. “Come on, want you to see how wrecked you are. What a fucking slut you’re being for me, letting me fuck you like this in this bar.”
Your mascara is completely ruined, streaked down your face with your lipstick smeared across your chin. You look like a fucking mess and you couldn’t care less. You feel yourself fluttering around him the tighter his grip on you is. His hand slips from your hair, latching around your neck and tugging you into his chest.
He grips your chin and keeps your eyes on where the two of you are joined in the mirror. It only makes you clench tighter around him, watching as he moves in and out of you. You can see just how much of an effect you're having on him and it’s the biggest ego boost you’ve ever had in your life.
You’ve reduced him to a mess in a dirty club bathroom, so desperate for you he couldn’t even wait to take you home. He tilts his hips, hitting the spot inside you that has your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.
You whisper his name in warning, letting go of the sink to clutch tightly at his wrist. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you secured against him. His hips start to stutter, losing some of their rhythm the tighter you are around him. The feeling builds in your fingers, tingles down to the tips of your toes, and explodes in a nearly blinding pleasure. His hips are still against you, warmth filling you a moment later.
You would slump forward into the sink if it weren’t for his protective hold around your stomach. He keeps you tight against his chest for a minute, waiting for you to catch your bearings again. It takes an embarrassingly long time for the feeling in your legs to come back. You’ve never had such an intense experience like that.
You don’t know if it's from the thrill of possibly getting caught or just because you were with him. You’ve longed and lusted after Logan for so long, and finally having the real thing is a bit of shock. Especially when he exceeded your fantasies, you didn’t even know that was possible.
He props you against the sink, tugging your dress down and pulling your underwear back up. You watch him with dulled interest, still reeling from what you’ve just done. You’ve never been so bold before, it almost feels liberating to just say ‘fuck it’ and do what you want.
He pulls his own pants back up, fixing his belt and grabbing a wet paper towel for you. He’s silent as he wipes the mascara of your cheeks and you give him a questioning look. “You want the others to know what happened?”
You scoff and glance away from him, looking towards the door of the bathroom. “I’m sure they already know. Weren’t exactly subtle,” you tell him with a small smile.
He smirks, tossing the towel away and walking back towards you. He keeps his arms on either side of you, bracketing you against the sink and grinning down at you. “No, we weren’t, were we?”
You shake your head silently, lips curled up in amusement. Your eyes briefly dart to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. He catches the look with a sly smile, dipping his head down and giving you a brief kiss.
It’s short and sweet, more loving than the passionate, rip-my-clothes-off kisses from before. It feels like the type of kiss a married couple would share in the early morning when they only want to remind the other they love each other. Your proximity and the look he’s giving you feel more intimate than anything that just happened.
“You really meant it?” You muse, voice barely above a whisper as you smile at him.
“Meant what?” He mutters.
“You like me,” you tease, entangling your hand with his and tugging him even closer to you.
He gives you a confused look, glancing at the sink behind you and then back at your disheveled form. “Did I not make that clear enough, kid?”
You shake your head, “No, I think I might need another reminder,” you tell him. It takes a moment for your words to click for him. You can see when it does, he gives you a small smile and shakes his head with an aggrieved sigh like you’re bugging him.
“Really making me work for it, huh?” You nod your head playfully, dragging him down towards you and bringing him into another kiss. You can deal with the line forming outside in a minute. You can push off your nosy friends’ questions for another day. Right now, it’s just you and him, finally doing what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw him.
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡
Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte
@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross ♡
#anon#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett imagine#wolverine imagine#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader
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Hello your magical girl story looks really intriguing, the premise feels very creative, the art style is simple but good with its own identity, and the characters seem to be fleshed out with depth, personality, and backstory. In short, I love it, and I do have a few questions.
One: Is the story character driven, story driven, or something else
Two: Is the story rated G, PG, PG-13, or something else
Three: Would the story be a web comic, web show, or something else
Four: Will there be a lot of lore and world building, yes or no
Five: what other inspirations did you have for the story's characters, plot, and art style
Six: What humor do you use for the story
I'm only asking these questions out of curiosity. This is just because I love your story, and would like to know more about.
So please be free to not answer all the questions if you want. I'm also fine if you ignore this ask. so please, no pressure.
At the end of the day, please have fun, relax, work hard, take your time, and have a nice day.
I'm so glad! Thanks so much for your interest <3
Character driven (always)
PG/PG-13
Dunno! I've been reached out to already for a few opportunities but right now, I'm just trying to have fun with it and keep it mine until I feel like the idea is fully realized and ready for something bigger. Right now, I'm shooting to make a lil pilot animatic mostly on my own with help from a few friends
Depends on what you mean by a lot but I'd say a soft yes
For Aika, just generally other anime protagonists from shoujo and shonen. I feel like when you're doing a spin on something you do have to rely on the tropes from the genre at least a little bit. For Zira, Toko Fukawa was the jumping off point but they're very different. They're also both based off of aspects of myself (I feel like most artists do this with their ocs tho). Style and story-wise, I was definitely looking at Doremi and Panty&Stocking. That chunky cute look that's distinctly anime but takes some notes from Western cartoons. But mine's flipped where it's more based on my own style from working in Western animation but then having anime influence. And story-wise I like how they're more episodic with an underlying story. The magical girl stuff is more a backdrop that helps the story move forward and enhances the slice of life stuff that's being focused on.
I'm not sure what kind of humor to say other than my own? But my sense of humor has been shaped by Big City Greens (obviously) Adventure Time, Jimmy Neutron, Bob's Burgers, Smiling Friends and many other things but hopefully that gives you the gist
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Making satoru squirt and him making fem reader squirt. I'm dying for some switch content
⭒ mdni. mutual overstimulation, whiney Satoru my beloved. ( i had to pause writing at least 5 times to scream in my pillow ) please read the first two tags lmao
“b-baby, p-plea-se, I can’t, not anymore, a-ah!” Satoru sobs quite loudly to be honest, his eyes are glossy and filled with tears, the rim of them slightly reddened and matching the color of his bitten lips from endless hours of overstimulation. you’ve probably sucked the strength out of him through his dick, since his hands weakly push against your forehead in a failed attempt to keep you away from his throbbing length, “j-just pull it out, ah-a!”
“how many so far?” you giggle, pulling his cock out between your lips with a loud pop and getting in return a grateful sigh out of your boyfriend, one that doesn’t last long as your palm comes to rub circular motions on his tip, smearing the remaining cum all over the swollen flesh.
“d-dunno... ngh! haa, it’s too much!” he chokes on his own sobs, arching against the couch backrest so his heaving chest glistens with sweat under the living room lightbulb, his thighs squeeze your sides tightly, kicking and fighting the intense mixture of pain and pleasure running through his flustered pale body from the tip of his cock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend so worked up and overstimulated, all whiney —more than usual if you had to admit— but he looked absolutely cute begging for mercy.
“just one more, c’mon, and i’ll let you go” you smirk pressing your lips to the underside of his messy cock, feeling the veins throb under your tongue and palm warm up from where it continues to rub on his tip.
“n-no! stop please, feels weird!” Satoru begs, his body curving so he hovers over your body, so close to your face you’re able to watch his eyes open wide in shock, panting loudly and holding onto your hair for support barely seconds away from half screaming and shooting a translucent and diluted cum-like liquid in hard jets that landed on your face and the floor.
“wha—” you mutter back, staring in surprise at how your boyfriend’s body flops back against the couch, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon, “Satoru... did you just squirt? ” it comes out as a giggle, still dumbfounded from what just happened.
he doesn’t reply, and you’re a bit worried that he might have fainted, deciding to sit on his lap and observe his unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“Toru?” you softly slap his cheek, biting back a grin “are you dead?”
your boyfriend is a box of surprises, that’s for sure, but something that never failed to amaze you, even though you’re well aware of, is his incredible strength and stamina, yes, he might look all brain fried right now, but you should have expected for him to flip you over in the blink of an eye, pushing you underneath his body and spread on the couch with one leg over the backrest and the other bent so far it almost touched your ear.
“i told you to stop” Satoru growls, hands hooking under your thighs, positively bending you in half with his fattening cock dangerously close to your dripping cunt.
you laugh breathlessly, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes and slicking it back to watch how his bright blue eyes are now slightly darkened and almost disappearing around his blown out pupils, “please..., that was so fucking hot”
“we’ll see if you say the same after I make you squirt and beg” his voice is erratic, deeper and a bit dangerous, barely giving you time to process his words before he’s plunging deep into your pussy with a broken moan, he might act all dominant now, but the way his thighs shook and cock twitch told another story.
“don’t exaggerate! it wasn’t t-that ba-ah!” you get to mutter, cut by Satoru’s hard and precise thrusts inside your sopping wet cunt, moving in frenzy while choked out sobs came out of his mouth, drunk in the feeling of your tight hole squeezing him.
“so good, oh my fucking god!” your boyfriend moans, caging your body underneath his by pressing almost his whole weight on top of you, allowing only his hips to fuck into you with a loud wet sound from where his balls slam against your slick coated ass, barely rising before he’s back deep inside your walls, continuously slamming directly against your g-spot.
“S-satoru, i’m sorry alright, b-but please! slow down!” you cry out, begs falling on deaf ears as the man thrusts never falter, continuously driving you insane, and himself into the border of crying from fucking his overstimulated sensitive cock inside your pretty pussy.
“ah, ah! i’m gonna cum again” he sobs, ignoring your screams and nails digging on his back, and instead wrapping his arms around your thighs, bending you in half as he mounted you with whines and whimpers coming out of his lips, “uh, feels amazing, i’m going insane” is the last thing Satoru says before digging his teeth in your neck and cumming drily inside your pussy, the position causing his cock to bump and twitch directly against your g-spot and forcing your own orgasm out.
a loud beep rang in your ears at the same time your eyes clouded, unaware of the force of your own squirt gushing out and dropping from Satoru’s toned chest and flushed cock, you couldn’t hear a sound, but were certain you screamed quite loudly, only a couple of minutes after, once he knew you were a bit more lucid Satoru dared exhale a soft “payback” directly against your ear.
#i had to do research 🤓☝️ it was so fun#apparently a man can squ*rt w both stimulation in the tip and stimulation the prost*te mhm use this information like you wish to 😎#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk gojo smut#jjk gojo satoru#jjk gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#lovegasmic writes satoru
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finished the 2.6 story and promptly blacked out and wrote this in a feverish haze. minor gore warning (it's really mild but still). also this is up on ao3 if that's your preference. comments always appreciated but not obligated 💕 xoxo love yall
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Boothill tries not to sleep very often.
He doesn't particularly need to, either; he can get away with around a dozen hours every week if he pushes himself – which he often does. The only time he sleeps with any consistency is when he's with you, in the interim between his long journeys away.
He doesn't often have pleasant dreams, but when he does, it's always when he's sleeping by your side. His particular favorite is an impossibility, as dreams so often are.
He's back on Aeragan-Epharshel, playing with Clementine. She's a bit older, now – around ten. She's still just as sunny as she always was – though he hasn't quite managed to get her to stop tugging on his hair; perhaps he should be content with her progress so far, considering that she never pulls hard anymore. He's outside with her on a blessedly warm fall day, painting stones with the pigments you made by hand; the holidays are a few months off, and Clementine wants to paint customized stones for everyone she can think of, aunts and uncles included. (She told him very decisively that she'd make his rock on her own. It has to be a surprise, obviously.) He'd argue that her painting is far better than his, but he still makes one for you – a messy collage of your favorite colors on a shiny black stone, forming a smeared mimicry of the night sky.
When she tires of that, he hauls her up onto his shoulders and heads inside to badger you, disturbing your reading. You banter; you chat; you help Clem clean up, then dot her little forehead with kisses until she laughs – that sweet, warm laugh, like the chime of a bell. After that, he helps you out with dinner, the aroma of casserole filling the entire house. Clem lingers by your feet, clinging to your pants as you chop vegetables plucked from the garden that morning. She looks up at you with those dewy doe eyes, pouting dramatically until you relent and give her small chunks of veggies; you're so used to her habit of begging like a dog for scraps that you bring out a little more vegetables than you need every time. He watches on with a tender, lovestruck smile, perfectly content.
When he woke up from that dream, it was to the silence of your bedroom, his eyes burning and his chest aching something fierce. He looked down at your sleeping form sprawled over his body, your limbs tangled and your face soft with sleep. With his hands shaking slightly, he shifted to hold you just a little tighter against him, savoring your weight, your warmth, your smell.
That dream will never be a reality, but at least he can fulfill some morsel of it.
It's rare for him to be so fortunate as to have sweet, peaceful dreams like that one – despite the irreconcilable yearning they're tainted with. Most dreams – such as the one he's having right now – are not so pleasant.
Smoke clogs the air, so thick that it burns his lungs. Flames press in on all sides, licking at his heels, searing his skin. The smell of death, of burnt hair and flesh, of ash and misery, is so oppressive that he feels like he's suffocating under the weight. A cacophony of screaming echoes from all around him, cannon fire bursting in his eardrums, but through the noise, he hears it – the shrieking wail of a child in pain, piercing straight through his heart.
He's running, clamoring through the fire, stumbling over the rubble of destroyed homes and corpses whose roasted, blistering hands grasp uselessly at his ankles, their croaking voices begging him for help; his instincts urge him to obey, to haul them out of the fire and carry them to safety, to tend to the wounds of his family – but he knows in his heart that there's no use. There is no safety here, nowhere to bring them, no way to treat burns so fierce that they've bared bone and sinew.
But there's a dash of hope in his heart, because that girl's crying is so clear, so crisp – he must be close. Yet no matter which way he turns, no matter how fast he runs, no matter how far he sprints into the carnage, he can't find her. Her cries turn sharper, more anguished; she sobs his name, pleading, begging, but her voice only seems to be getting further away. His chest heaves, his tears evaporating from his eyes before they can spill, his flesh melting from his bones in a slurry of fat and muscle. Why can't he find her? Where is she? Why did it come to this? Why, why, why–
“It's okay, bee.”
A soft voice echoes in the back of his head, nearly muffled by the deafening noise battering him from all sides. He collapses to his knees, completely spent, his whole body disintegrating into ash. He's burning, he's burning, but so is Clem – he can hear her screaming, louder and louder, piercing clean through his skull. He has to find her, he has to get up, he has to–
“Wake up, honey. It's okay. I've got you.”
The voice is a little louder now, and it feels like his body cools slightly, like the flames have been slightly dampened – but a moment later, they roar back to life with a vengeance. This can't be happening; this can't be real. He can't–
“Wake up.”
He jerks awake with a gasp, his whole body shaking like a leaf. He can hear your voice in his ear, your arms wrapped tight around him, his head nestled against your chest as you slowly rock him back and forth. He's already clinging to you, arms locked around your waist, but he pulls you in even tighter, desperate for an anchor. His breathing skips as he sobs, not a tear to be found, his body aching with phantom pain.
It takes a few moments for him to even process your words. “You're alright,” you murmur softly, stroking tenderly through his hair, your other hand tracing soothing circles into his shoulder. “Shh, shh. It's okay.”
Mindlessly, stupidly, he blubbers your name, nearly incomprehensible in his distress.
“I'm right here, baby. I've got you.” You tighten your hold slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Breathe with me, sunshine. Can you do that?”
You take a deep, slow breath, your heart beating steadily in his ear. On instinct, he mimics you, his lungs stuttering in his chest. The air of your exhale tickles his hair, and his own warms your skin, taking with it a bit of his tension. Inhale, exhale; slowly, his hydraulics begin to relax. Inhale, exhale; his hands grow a bit steadier, his palms flattening against your back. Inhale, exhale; he swallows heavily, the fear bleeding out of his veins.
The two of you stay like that for some time, your breathing keeping him grounded, letting him clear his mind. “I'm… I'm sorry,” he rasps, so soft that it's nearly muffled by your skin.
You shush him softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, honeybee.”
He doesn't even have the energy to rebuke you; as the terror flees his body, exhaustion rushes in to fill the gaps. After a moment, he murmurs, “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'm okay.”
He can practically feel the gentle, concerned furrow of your brow. “Are you sure? I don't mind staying up to talk with you, if that'll make it easier.”
He shakes his head, burrowing a bit further into your chest. “You're helpin’ just by bein' here, honey.” Slowly, he begins to rub circles into your back, just as you're doing to him. “This is just fine.”
He can sense your hesitation, can hear it in the beat of your heart. He lifts his head to kiss your collarbones, shamelessly savoring the scent of your skin.
“I'm okay,” he whispers. “Just get some rest for me, sugar.”
You're silent for a beat before finally sighing, your body relaxing against him. “If you say so.” You lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Promise you'll wake me up if you want company, alright?”
He smiles, a tender, shaky little thing, then presses his ear to your chest. “Sure thing, pumpkin.”
Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for you to drift back into a light sleep, your breathing deepening, your heart slowing next to his ear. Your natural rhythm soothes him so efficiently that he might've fallen back asleep if he weren't actively trying to stay awake. He distracts himself by stewing over your plans for tomorrow, how he'll spend his precious time with you.
He'll make you breakfast in the morning, he decides – though he'll have to be careful not to disturb you. He always loves watching you wake up, and he's sure it'll be even better if it's to a fresh plate of food.
Yeah, he thinks, his lip quirking fondly as he nuzzles into you a bit more firmly. That'll be good.
#sal.txt#boothill x reader#reader insert#x reader#gn reader#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#boothill#sal.sdfb#angst#hurt/comfort
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what a wicked thing to do
vampire wanda maximoff x fem reader
words: 4.2k
warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** lesbian vampires yes GAWD, fantasy au, inaccurate historical au, smut, fingering, implied soulmates (?? kinda i guess), biting 👀, mention of blood, does this count as hurt/comfort? we shall see!! and uhhh it's kinda spooky ooky vibes but it's not really dark? i think. pls let me know if i missed anything!
a/n: listen..... i've already got spooky season in the brain and i really wanted to reshare this fic. i've edited it a little but i've also left the link to where i orphaned it on ao3 in the title if you prefer reading there~ any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged pls and thank ♡ xoxo
wanda maximoff masterlist || main masterlist
It’s that time of year in between autumn and winter where it’s only getting colder and colder, no reprieve even during the sun’s highest point of the day. Part of you worries it’s a mistake to wander through the woods like this, especially so close to sunset.
But then you remember the briefest moment when you saw her, when your eyes met hers; it happened so quickly, but also felt as if time stopped. Something flashed in her gaze before she looked away and disappeared in the busy crowds of the village.
That moment, as brief as it was, leads you here. You hug your arms tighter to your torso, cursing the bitter wind whipping around you. Your dress had been a bright idea when you’d first thought of it. Now, you’re wondering why you thought such a plunging neckline would be smart, considering the seasonable chill in the air.
Although, you think with a flutter in your stomach, that’s not exactly true. You know exactly why you chose this dress.
There’s hardly any light left in the sky by now. You’re kicking yourself for getting lost in the woods, wondering if anyone would notice, or care, whether or not you return to the village. You have no family, no money, nothing tying you to anyone or anything. You work odd jobs to be able to make ends meet. The people knew of you, but you are sure they hardly concerned themselves with your well-being.
But then, when your gaze had met her own, you’d felt seen for the first time in ages. It was like she could see everything inside your mind, every ounce of longing and every bit of loneliness, even in the split second she held your stare. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then. Nearly two weeks have passed, and you’d finally decided to find out if the stories that follow her hold any truth. They are quite colorful, full of fantasy and myth, surely decorated to sound more elaborate as the years go on. Fantasy and myth, perhaps, but one particular piece of information continues to remain the same.
She hasn’t seemed to age in the fifteen years she’s spent living near your village. Not one line or wrinkle to be seen on her pale skin. Not one gray hair on her head. Some of the elders even swear they'd seen her when they were children.
Her home is a mystery, one that stays that way out of fear. There is something about her eyes, some say, something off, not quite right. Because of this, no one has felt compelled enough to try finding her home.
At least, not until you.
You’re beginning to think you are truly lost, feeling hopeless, when you finally spot something in the distance. But just as relief washes through you, the rain starts. Each drop feels like sharp, stabbing pieces of ice landing on your exposed flesh, soaking into the thin fabric of your dress. It takes mere minutes for you to become drenched. Your dress is now clinging to your body uncomfortably, the cold even more biting than it already had been.
It comes into view, what you’d spotted several meters back, easier to make out. A looming castle breaks through the trees, windows lit with candles.
Your arms and feet are going numb, but you push through, stumbling your way to a cobblestone path that leads to tall, wooden doors. With a trembling hand, you raise the door knocker and bang it against the door as loud as you can manage, praying whoever is inside will hear.
Your wait is short lived, thankfully. The door creaks open loudly to reveal the very woman you’d been searching for. If she’s shocked to see you, she hides it well. She looks as regal as ever. A black dress hugs her lithe body, her hair perfectly brushed and styled. This close to her, you can see what the people mean. She looks ageless.
“E-excuse me, madam,” you begin, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. “I-I’m terribly lost and I d-don’t think I can find my w-way back to the village.”
The woman lets her eyes roam your shivering frame, lingering on your glistening chest for a second, then meets your pleading gaze.
“Of course. Please, do come in. I’m sure you’re cold.”
“Th-thank you,” you reply earnestly.
She steps aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by.
“Think nothing of it,” she assures you. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, at least until the storm passes.”
As the door closes behind her, you take in as much of the space as possible. With it being nighttime, the candles can only do so much. For a castle, it is rather large, but it’s not quite as foreboding as you would have imagined. Though, you surmise, you hadn’t really known what to expect at all.
“Would you like something dry to change into?”
You whirl around, almost tripping over your feet as her voice registers, so close to your ear.
She smiles, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”
Swallowing roughly, you nod, offering a smile of thanks in return.
“Very good. You should go sit by the fire to warm up while I get everything sorted.”
She points toward a room where you can see flickering light dancing off the walls. You nod again, letting your tired feet follow the promise of warmth. The closer you get to the large fireplace, the harder you shiver, goosebumps rising along your skin. You stand as close as you deem safe, hands held out to thaw them. For the second time, she sneaks up behind you.
“This is all I could manage to find.”
You gasp as you turn to face her. She’s still smiling as she holds up the proffered item of dry clothing.
“You frightened me,” you state dumbly, huffing a quiet laugh.
“I did not mean to,” she replies.
“It’s okay.” You glance at the clothes in her hand, a frown forming on your face. “A… dressing gown?”
She makes a sympathetic face. “It was all I could find,” she repeats.
Her eyes dip down to your chest again. They flash, just like in the village, but you’re sure it could have just been the fire reflecting in them. You look down to see what she’s staring at and heat rushes up your neck. Your nipples are clearly outlined against the wet fabric of your dress.
“Oh,” you murmur as you lift your arms to cover yourself.
She clears her throat delicately. “Take this. You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on.” She pointedly holds the dressing gown out to you again until you gingerly take it. “I’ll go get the kettle started while you change.”
“Thank you,” you return quietly.
When you’re sure she’s gone, you undress as quickly as you can, more shivers wracking your frame as you stand naked in her drawing room for a few seconds before pulling on the silk dressing gown, tying it securely around your waist.
While you wait you decide to get a better look of the room. A few paintings hang on the dark walls, but mostly they’re covered with floor to ceiling shelves and stuffed to the brim with books. You take notice of a few spots where the dust hasn’t seemed to settle in front of them, figuring those must be her favorites. A plush chaise sits in the center of the room with two chairs on either side, atop an ornate rug that rests on most of the floor. There are a couple small tables between the chaise and chairs with candelabras on them, and a wide, lower table in front of them. You spot a desk by the only window in the room.
There’s nothing particularly personal about the space. It almost feels as if she’s newly moved in. But you know that can’t be true, especially since so many people in the village have seen her visit town for years now.
A piece of parchment on the desk catches your eye. You debate over whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you, your feet slowly carrying you over to where the paper lay. There’s writing on the top piece, and you get as far as the addressed “Brother,” but then hear her round the corner and quickly back away.
“I wasn’t sure if you took cream and sugar, so I brought them just in case,” she tells you, setting a silver tray on the low-lying table that held the teapot and teacups.
You walk over as she pours the tea into both cups. You pick one up and carefully drop two lumps of sugar into yours, stirring it with your teaspoon until you’re satisfied it’s melted. A careful sip as you sit down and you hum happily.
“Better?” she asks, smiling and taking a sip of her own tea, sitting beside you.
It occurs to you suddenly that you hadn’t asked for introductions. You scold yourself internally, knowing you had better etiquette than that.
“I must apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I never introduced myself,” you say, then offer your name. “And what is yours, madam?”
“You may call me Wanda,” she replies.
“Well, I owe you a great deal for helping me, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Please, there is no need. I’m glad I was here and that you aren’t in danger of freezing to death.”
“As am I,” you respond, laughing lightly.
Silence settles between you. Your mind whirls with hundreds of questions, but you don’t know where to begin. Your plan to find her only consisted of just that— finding her. Now that you’re here, you aren’t quite sure what to do. Or say, for that matter.
You can feel her eyes observing you like a caress. You struggle not to squirm or shiver, though you are no longer cold. No, there is no chill clinging to your bones anymore. Her stare alone provides enough heat. You chance a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, but she catches it. She purses her lips to keep from smiling in amusement.
“So,” you blurt, cheeks pinking, “have you lived here long?”
You bite the inside of your cheek as soon as the words leave your mouth. Stupid, stupid girl.
Thankfully, Wanda laughs.
“Quite,” she says teasingly, like she’s letting you in on a joke.
You nod. “I see. Is it a family home?”
She tilts her head consideringly. “Of a sort.”
What is that supposed to mean? Miraculously, you don’t ask that question aloud.
“Do you… Do you live alone?”
You’re not sure why you ask. Perhaps it’s that you haven’t heard any other movement throughout the castle that indicated a waiting staff of some sort. Afterall, she was the one to fetch the tea.
“I do,” she says.
You don’t want to examine it too closely, but you’re positive you note a hint of longing in her tone.
“S’a lot of space for one person,” you muse in acknowledgment.
She nods. “Indeed. However, I’m sure I’ll find the right companion soon.”
You take another sip of your tea to avoid replying, but are not able to avoid meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes is something you’ve never seen directed at you. You’re hesitant to think it could be want, open desire. Not from a woman like her.
—
Wanda still cannot believe that you’d shown up at her door.
She’s spent months watching you from a distance, never allowing herself to be seen by you—not until she felt it was time. From the very first moment she caught sight of you, she knew. You are hers. Her mouth watered when the wind brought your scent to her. There was not a doubt in her mind about whether she would have you; she simply would.
She had waited, ever so patiently, watching you as you roamed the streets of the village. You didn’t seem to have very many acquaintances, if any at all, and you were always alone. Wanda quickly figured out that you were without a family as well.
Selfishly, she’d been happy about these facts.
Finally, Wanda allowed herself to meet your gaze. It was quick, but she knew her eyes flashed, knew that she piqued your curiosity. It would only be a matter of time.
After nearly two weeks had gone by, however, she had started to think it hadn’t worked. She’d planned on returning to town to purposefully cross your path again, but as luck would have it, you came to her. As soon as she heard the knock on her door, she smiled.
Now, as she sits next to you on the chaise, your skin glowing in the firelight, she finds it harder to maintain her control. This close, your scent is even more intoxicating. Wanda can tell that you’re curious about her. The questions you want to ask are swirling behind your eyes. And now that you’re here, she decides she’ll answer whatever you ask, give you anything you want.
You’ve gone quiet, though, so she does some prodding of her own.
“What were you doing out in the woods?” Dressed like that, blessedly, goes unsaid.
You shyly glance down at your lap. “I, uh, I like to take walks,” you mutter into your teacup as you go to take another sip.
Wanda hums. A plausible excuse, indeed. You carefully lean forward to set your cup and saucer on the table and when you sit back you move your hair over to one shoulder. Wanda’s eyes zero in on the pulsepoint of your neck. If she focuses hard enough, she can see your heartbeat throbbing beneath your skin. It makes her teeth itch, makes her control waver even more.
When she drags her gaze away from your neck, she finds you already observing her. Her desire is clearly reflected in your eyes and the feeling is heady.
—
“Are you warm now?” she wonders.
“Yes,” you whisper, your breathing picking up, making your breasts heave alluringly.
You’d go as far as saying you are overheating. The dressing gown, where you’d been unsure and embarrassed of being nude underneath it before, is now a blessing. Your body feels alight with an unseen, growing fire. Shifting on the chaise, you don’t notice the sleeve slip down your shoulder, only registering the air skimming across your collarbones. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel something cold on your bare arm.
Peering down reveals it to be Wanda’s hand carefully sliding the sleeve back up into place. Your brows pull together in a frown.
“Your hand…” you mumble, trailing off.
She lets it linger on your shoulder for a moment, then slowly traces down your arm, her thumb grazing the side of your breast. Your nipples tighten, thighs clenching together as you watch her fingers stop at your wrist. Though her touch is cold, it feels like a relief against the searing heat of your flesh. You peek at her through your lashes and find her expression to be one of complete hunger.
Feeling emboldened, you hold her stare as you shift to pull the sleeve down again.
Her lips lift on one side, her teeth glinting dangerously. “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” she asks.
You blink, faux innocence shifting behind your eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath, though it only helps in inhaling your scent more. She says your name. “Why do you think you are here?” The question catches you off guard. Wanda shifts even closer to you, watching your throat bob as you swallow. “We both know it isn’t because you accidentally got lost in the woods. You were out there with a purpose. What was it?”
You lick your lips, noticing her gaze immediately drop to them. It makes your heart pound in your chest.
“I don’t know,” you reply, unsure.
She leans in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You do,” she whispers, without doubt. “Why are you here?”
Your eyes flutter closed, head tilting back without you being aware of it, exposing your neck. You feel her presence mere centimeters away from you, her breath puffing out along the column of your throat.
“I… I felt drawn here. It feels like I was meant to be here,” you say, quiet, almost hoping she doesn’t hear you.
It feels ridiculous to say it out loud. It’s one thing to have that thought sit in the back of your mind where you could pretend it didn’t exist, but to admit it aloud is entirely different.
“With me?”
You shiver at her words, her lips having softly dragged across your skin. Helplessly, you nod.
“Are you afraid?”
That makes you frown, but you adamantly reply, “No.”
“Open your eyes,” she pleads.
You follow her instruction, wary, but gasp at what you see. Sharp fangs peek out from Wanda’s lips, her eyes so pale they’re almost white now. Though your heart continues to race, it’s not out of fear. It should scare you, it should send you running, but you find your hand slowly rising to carefully trace a finger down one of her fangs, amazed that she even lets you.
“You’re…” You start, meeting her patient gaze once more. “Beautiful,” you finish in a whisper, because she is. You go to reach for her face to stroke her cheek, but she lurches backward. In a blink, Wanda’s on the other side of the chaise. Disbelief paints her features.
“You think I’m… beautiful?”
“Of course,” you state plainly, brows furrowing. Wanda continues staring at you in wonder. “You said I was here for a reason.” Ironically, she’s now wary of you as you shuffle closer to her. “I know what that reason is now.”
“Which is?” she asks apprehensively.
“You,” you murmur, cupping her cheek. “I’m here for you.”
Wanda looks as if she’s scared to accept this, to hope for it to be real. You steal away those worries by leaning in to place a soft kiss to her lips. She inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut, her cold hands gripping your wrist almost painfully. You give her a moment, kissing her forehead as she gathers her emotions, keeping her gaze down.
“Are you sure?”
Her voice cracks softly, but her grip on your wrist loosens as you move it. You lift her chin so she’s looking at you.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
She stares at your lips for a few seconds, and then, as your words sink in, they seem to send her into action. She surges forward and captures your lips, more sure, more eager than before. You respond in kind, pulling her as close as possible, sighing into her mouth.
You quickly find yourself on your back on the chaise, Wanda above you, bodies slotting perfectly into each other like lost puzzle pieces. You feel her hand slide down from where it was in your hair to graze along your sternum. Then her hand cups your breast, thumb swiping across your nipple, and you gasp. It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and Wanda takes it.
Her tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at her like she’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let her settle between your thighs, to arch into her touch and slide your tongue in her mouth, delicately tracing over her fangs. Wanda shudders, grunting inelegantly before wrenching herself away, panting heavily into the space between you. You blindly chase after her, opening your eyes in confusion.
Wanda’s gaze is intent on your neck, full of desire. The weight of the moment hits you, then. What exactly it would mean if you give in to her. So, with full faith in your decision, you tilt your head ever so slightly and she goes perfectly still.
“Go ahead,” you encourage.
She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
You huff. “I do. I want you to do this.” You know she won’t look at you just yet, so you lace both your and her fingers together and squeeze hers as you continue. “I need you to do this.”
“If I do,” she starts, swallowing thickly, “I won’t be able to stop. You’ll end up like me.”
You duck your head to catch her stare. “And what’s wrong with that?”
She closes her eyes and falls silent for a moment. The weight of your words fall over the two of you like a winter blanket.
“I’ve waited so long,” she confesses, voice quiet, shaking and timid.
“For me?” you ask. She nods. “I’ve been looking for something, or someone, to make me feel whole all my life.” You use your free hand to stroke her cheek. Even with her eyes closed, she leans into you. “I’ve waited for you, too.”
When she finally looks at you, you know there’s no going back for either of you.
“It’s going to hurt,” she warns.
“That’s okay. It will only be temporary.”
She smiles then, slow and teasing. “I can ease the pain, you know.”
Her free hand tugs lightly on the ties holding your dressing gown closed, raising her eyebrows in silent question. You bite your lip and nod, shivering in anticipation. She undoes the careful bow you’d tied, easing it open and exposing your body to her hungry gaze.
If you felt heated before, you’re an inferno now. Her hands reverently map out every curve of your body. She leans down and plants a kiss above your belly button. It makes your stomach clench in want, but you make yourself lie there and take whatever she plans on giving you. Her kisses lead up your torso, until she’s eye level with your breasts, and before you can comprehend her movement, she’s taking one of your nipples into her mouth.
“God,” you whimper, head thrown back as you push your chest into her face.
“No,” Wanda giggles, “just me.”
You try to laugh, but it turns into a gasping moan when she pinches your other nipple between cold fingers. Your thighs attempt to close around her, yet it’s futile. Her free hand begins its descent down to the warm heat between your legs. Your hips buck into her touch, crying out when her fingers make contact with your clit.
“I’m going to do everything I can to make this feel good, okay? Let me take care of you.”
You nod quickly, your mouth going dry. When a single finger enters you, you forget how to breathe for a second, but then she’s sliding it out and back in, setting a steady rhythm, and you’re back to panting and whining. Only a few minutes later, though, you’re wriggling around, begging for more. She adds another finger and picks up the pace.
“Oh,” you gasp, your legs falling open wider.
Wanda buries her face in your neck, inhaling loudly, groaning. She licks across the skin there, nipping at you.
“Wanda,” you whimper.
“I know, my love,” she rasps. “You’re so close.”
Your hands have drifted above you, clutching at the pillows on the chaise, your hips moving in tandem with her fingers. Her thumb meets your clit, adding to the building warmth in your belly. It swells and swells, until finally, it has nowhere else to go and explodes within you.
You feel her teeth sink into your neck at the very same moment, and you can only yell brokenly into the air. Pain and pleasure war inside you, both white hot and searing, marrying themselves into a delicious and lethal combination. You can feel blood trickle down your throat, the same way you can still feel her fingers thrusting into you. It seems to never end and you grow limp beneath her, unable to handle the sensations flowing through you.
She finally slows, removing her teeth and licking over the wound. As her fingers slide free, she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead with her clean hand.
“Sleep now,” she instructs, kissing you softly.
You can’t even attempt to argue, your body listening to her and promptly sending you into a deep slumber.
—
When you wake, before you even open your eyes, you’re aware of a few things.
To start, you’re no longer on the chaise. You’re on a luxurious bed, which is presumably Wanda’s. Your hearing is significantly better, as is your sense of smell. There’s a low thrum of energy coursing through your veins, like you’re on edge but don’t know why. But the more important thing you’re aware of is the feeling of eyes on you.
“I know you’re awake now.”
You crack open one eye and see Wanda smirking at you from the other end of the bed. You smile and sigh happily.
“How do you feel?” she asks.
You carefully sit up and stretch. You notice her ogling your still naked body and give her a smirk of your own. Shifting onto your knees, you crawl over the bed until you reach her and straddle her lap.
“Hungry,” you answer before grasping her face in your hands and attaching your mouth to hers.
With a force she hadn’t used before, she tosses you backward and is on top of you in a flash, a devilish smile on her tragically beautiful face.
“Good.”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff smut#vampire wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff#posting this and running
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Waitng patiently for a new insecticons story (i love them so much, thanks to you. Please dont die)
I will try my hardest not to 🤣 I’m just on the struggle bus today
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You (Don’t) Know Me Pt 7
Insecticons x Reader
• Wary as they watch you, it’s like they’re waiting on something. They’ve called you their queen more than once. Mentioned a coronation, though the details get a bit hazy, lost in the heated ache of need when they’d kissed you, when that one had gone down on you. Body flushing at that memory as you wiggle out from between Kickback and Shrapnel, pulling one of the blankets you’re sitting on up over your lap so everything isn’t just on display. “What if I don’t want to be your queen?” You ask slowly and the other two both look at Bombshell, tensing. Big guy is definitely the one in charge. “Hypothetically,” you add as his head tips.
• “Hypothetically, you’re of little value except as food if you’re not our queen,” Bombshell growls, long glossa curling around a servo to clean it. Aware of the way you watch him, grinning crookedly as his battle mask clicks back together. It’s a threat plain and simple, a hollow one. Those two idiots have at least partially bonded you. Forcing his hand. And after having you, he can’t really deny that he’s decided he wants to keep you, too. Had imagined a fierce queen, but maybe a soft queen that looks to him for protection wouldn’t be so bad. Someone who needs him. Who won’t curtail his plans.
• “This hive is only temporary,” Kickback says into the silence when you lean further away from all of them. “Not fit for a queen.” Antenna back, he leans over to lay his head in your lap, pretending he doesn’t notice when you tense. “We’ll do better. Bigger, more fitting for you.” Room for young, room to expand. Freezing when you hesitantly lift a hand and touch his antenna. Gently. So gently ghosting your fingers against him. Has anyone touched him like that before?
• Heck of a choice. Play queen of the scary, bug robots or be dinner. The big one had asked you to make demands. Seemed to expect it, like maybe you’re supposed to take charge. Play queen. Mouth dry as you toy with Kickback’s antenna to make him shiver and chirp against you, you can’t break Bombshell’s stare. The challenge in it. “This place is drafty. Dirty. Not a proper hive,” you manage, rolling with it and all three of them go still. Listening. “And I’m not eating that.”
• Struggling to suppress his laughter as Bombshell goes rigid in offense at your scorn, Shrapnel clears his vents noisily. Can’t help but grin, though. “Organics eat flesh,” Bombshell growls, sweeping his hand at the deer. And Shrapnel’s starving, but won’t touch it until you eat. ‘Not raw,’ you counter, little chin lifting. ‘Cook it.’ And he is laughing now, not even caring how angry Bombshell is, because this is too delicious. You’re figuring out your place. Taking charge like you’re meant to.
• Heart racing as Bombshell looms over you, there’s fear that maybe you pushed him too hard. That you pissed him off and he’s going to lash out. Instead he just stares down at you, seizes Shrapnel by one of the beetle-like horns jutting up from his shoulders and yanks him up as he hisses. Ordering him to dig a fire pit. And you shouldn’t get a little thrill out of being obeyed by them. You should be plotting your escape, not idly playing with Kickback’s antenna. Freezing when he loops his arms around you and presses his face against your stomach, venting.
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#transformers x reader#insecticons x reader#g1 bombshell#g1 kickback#g1 shrapnel#shrapnel x reader#kickback x reader#bombshell x reader
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A Favor from the Devil |Chapter One|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 2.2k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)
Summary: Between working cases at Nelson, Murdock, and Page and combating crime as Daredevil in Hell’s Kitchen at night, Matt had little time for much else. Until a new neighbor moves in across the hall and you attract his attention with your odd behavior. But when your quiet four year old doesn't just befriend the Devil–she unravels his biggest secret–Matt only grows closer and more protective of the both of you. Inevitably he learns the truth of your past, but that's not what surprises him most. It's a favor you ask of the Devil–a favor that initially leaves Matt conflicted.
a/n: This is a story I've had in my head for quite a few months now and have steadily been working on for a bit for myself, but now I've decided to share it. I've spent quite a bit of time outlining and fleshing out the story--more than I usually do. As always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana
“And that's the end,” you said.
Closing the book in your lap, you glanced up from the brightly colored illustrations of animals on the back cover to your daughter who sat clutching Barnabas, the stuffed teddy bear that she never went to bed without. Her eyes had grown wide and hopeful as they held your gaze–a look you'd long since become familiar with. It was the same one she always gave you when she was about to stall in an attempt to avoid her inevitable bedtime. And it often worked on you, whether she realized it or not.
“Again?” Evelyn asked softly, a little hand reaching out towards the book. “Please, mama?”
“Cricket,” you replied gently, glad to hear she was stringing more words together tonight despite the excitement of this evening's move. “I've already read it five times now. I think it's time we put it away for tonight and you get to sleep.”
Evelyn's face fell at your answer and the sight pained you. It didn’t help that you knew just how anxious she'd been the entire weekend with all the big changes you both had going on yet again. She'd spent the past week barely saying more than a single word because of it.
“The book will still be here tomorrow,” you promised her. “We can read it again then.”
“Helps me sleep,” she whispered.
The growing frown curving her lips downwards and the little crease forming between her furrowed brows tugged at your heart. Especially with how she looked so small tucked inside the too-large sleeping bag you'd recently purchased at a thrift store. It looked as if she was being swallowed up by the giant purple thing considering she didn't even take up half the length of it.
Sighing, you felt your resolve fading the longer she stared up at you with her pleading eyes. With everything that you'd both been through over the past few months, and how you'd already felt guilty for all of the things you'd done wrong and hadn't been able to give her–which included an actual bed to sleep in once you'd gotten this apartment–you knew you wouldn't be able to resist that look. The very least you could do was read the book to her for a sixth time.
Leaning back once more against the bedroom wall behind you, you settled in for another few minutes on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright,” you relented. “I can read it just one more time for you, cricket. But then you've got to promise me something. Can you do that?”
The expression on her face changed, her small nose slightly scrunching up as her head turned to the side. “What?” she asked.
“Promise me that you'll actually go to sleep when I'm done,” you said, reaching a hand out to lightly ruffle her hair. “Because it's late and you've got your first day of preschool in the morning. Remember?”
“Oh,” she whispered, visibly sinking lower into the sleeping bag.
You frowned. She'd been nervous for that, too.
“Hey,” you said, your hand smoothing her hair before coming to gently rest along her shoulder. “You'll have fun there, I promise. I know it can seem scary going somewhere new, but you've been doing a great job adjusting to all the new things we've been through already. And you'll make friends, Evie. It'll be alright, I promise.”
The doleful look on her face didn't waver despite your attempt to comfort her. You hoped that beginning preschool tomorrow in conjunction with yet another move didn't set her back to nonverbal responses again. Guilt burned inside of you at the thought of how much your previous situation had led her to become so timid and quiet, afraid to use her own voice. It didn't matter that everyone at Hope Haven had tried to reassure you that none of what you'd been through was your fault, that you had done everything you could when you could. That didn't stop you from still feeling wholly responsible.
You should have seen it coming. Should have done something sooner.
But that was in the past now.
“And after work I'll pick you up and bring you back home with me,” you told her, trying to lighten her mood. “We can eat tonight's leftover pizza for dinner. And maybe I can get us some ice cream on the way home. How does that sound, cricket?”
Evelyn's hands began fidgeting with the edge of her sleeping bag, rolling it up between her small fingers. Her eyes remained downcast, avoiding yours. You knew she often fidgeted when she was anxious, a habit that just seemed wrong for a four year old to have acquired.
“Is this home?” she asked.
The ever present guilt in your stomach burned, your chest tightening at the unexpected and loaded question. You hated that she worried about things that no four year old should be worrying about, too. Another thing that was all your fault.
Expression softening, you nodded. “Yeah, Evie,” you answered, your hand dropping down to wrap around her little one that was still fidgeting with the edge of her sleeping bag. “This is home. We're staying here. Hopefully for a long, long time.”
Glancing up at you from beneath her lashes, you could see the expression on her face had yet again changed. This time she was staring up at you with a look that you absolutely hated seeing on her little face. One full of fear and uncertainty. A particular memory flashed through your mind at the sight of it and the acid in your stomach had a wave of nausea hitting you. Eyes briefly dropping down to the scar across the back of your right hand, you tried to fight back the tremble that had begun in it.
“We're safe?” Evie asked.
Attempting to swallow down the lump that had formed in the back of your throat, you nodded. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, though it felt like your heart was shattering in that moment. Because after all, it had also been your fault that it had taken so long to get the pair of you somewhere safe.
“Yes,” you stated, your trembling hand gripping the book in your lap tighter in an attempt to calm the quivering. “We're safe here. Don't ever worry about that, alright? That's for me to worry about. And I will always make sure you're safe. You hear me? Always .”
There was a long pause before she very slowly nodded her head just once. Your left hand patted hers tenderly, sending her what was meant to be a reassuring smile. You hoped it had been, because you'd been doing your best to appear more put together than you actually felt lately. You didn't need Evie to be worrying about anything else.
“So,” you said, trying to change the topic, “I guess we should get back to finishing our bedtime story, huh?”
Evie nodded vigorously, pushing herself more upright in her sleeping bag, her expectant eyes on you. You sent her another smile before clearing your throat and focusing back down on the book in your lap. Opening it once more with your still quivering hand, you tried to push the bad memories from your mind as you began to read in an animated voice.
It wasn't until four pages later that you'd glanced up at Evie. She had leaned over to see the pictures in the book while you read, all traces of fear gone from her face. Instead, she looked enraptured in the story that you knew she had completely memorized by now with how often you'd read it to her. There was a ghost of a smile on her face as she cuddled Barnabas tightly to her chest. And in that moment your heart felt full of hope.
Running a hand across your forehead, you paced your way around the mostly unfurnished apartment you'd just moved into this evening. The sparseness of the place was truthfully embarrassing. Currently all you had was Evie's sleeping bag, a blanket and lumpy pillow set aside by Evie’s bedroom door which would be your bed for the foreseeable future, and the empty boxes tossed around what would someday hopefully be a living room. For now it was just a large, empty room beside the small, empty kitchen.
As you paced around another overturned, half-broken down cardboard box, your shoulders dropped. You'd managed to pack all of Evelyn's and yours’ belongings in those boxes now lying discarded on the floor. Just six boxes fit your entire life. You certainly hadn't had much when you'd grabbed Evelyn and ran those couple of months ago. Just one garbage bag filled with mostly her clothes and things with a few of yours mixed in. Though even if you'd had time to pack more, there wouldn't have been much else to bring with you because neither of you’d ever had much to begin with.
And now here you were struggling to afford the very little you had as it was, no matter how desperately you were trying to stretch your measly new salary. It pained you to not be able to provide properly for you and your daughter. You remembered how you’d felt that very last night you'd stayed at Hope Haven, the women's shelter that you’d be forever grateful for taking the pair of you in and helping you start your new life.
Long after Evelyn had gone to sleep on your last night there, you'd laid awake in bed crying quietly to yourself as you stared at that damn purple sleeping bag mocking you from across the room. You’d felt like a terrible mother–for more than one reason. As tears ran down your cheeks, you’d vowed to save up to buy Evie a bed, doing whatever you needed to until you could. You'd give her that at least, even if it meant skipping meals whenever you could to save the extra cash. But honestly, you found yourself already often having to skip meals just so you could afford to keep Evie fed.
Pausing in your aimless pacing, you came to a stop beside one of the large windows in the living room. Placing a hand against the cool glass, you looked outside at the city. Your eyes inevitably found their way to the massive billboard positioned on the building across the street which hung at precisely your apartment's height. But fortunately for you the eyesore was more directly across from the apartment next door to yours, making it less noticeable and disruptive from your view. Though you had no choice but to feel grateful for the hideous thing because it had been the sole reason you'd gotten such a reduced rent in the first place. Otherwise you'd never have been able to afford a place in a relatively safe area of Hell’s Kitchen.
As you blankly stared outside at the billboard, watching the advertisements change from one to the next, you hoped things would be different here. Better. Because both you and Evie needed that. Your daughter needed a stable place to live, one she felt safe coming home to for once, and you desperately wanted to provide that for her. With every fiber of your being you hoped that this place would finally become the home you'd been struggling to create since the day she was born.
Pushing away from the glass, you rubbed at your tired eyes. It was late and you knew you should probably get some sleep yourself now that Evie had finally fallen asleep a little while ago. But the prospect of sleeping on the cold, hard floor with nothing but a singular blanket and pillow didn't sound that appealing. You certainly weren't rushing to get to sleep yourself.
Making your way back across the apartment, you reluctantly picked up the blanket and pillow from the ground. Carrying both of them over towards the closed door of Evelyn's bedroom, you set the pillow down. With both hands you tossed the blanket out, splaying it wide across the floor. You realized it was probably ridiculous sleeping in front of her bedroom door like this, especially because there was another bedroom, but it made you feel better. Because laying here, you knew that you were between your daughter and anyone who might come through the front door–namely one person in particular.
Not that he even knew where you were.
Beginning to lower yourself to the floor, preparing to get some rest, movement caught your attention out of the kitchen window across the room. You stopped instantly, head spinning fully towards the window as you sat half-crouched like a startled animal. Adrenaline and fear spiked through you as your eyes caught a shadow darting across the neighboring rooftop. For a moment you could have sworn the shadow had been shaped like a person, but as you scanned the rooftop now, you didn't see anything at all.
Shaking your head, you blinked hard a couple of times as you finally sunk to the floor. You had to have been seeing things because you were overtired and on edge. That's all it was. There was no reason for someone to be running along a rooftop late at night.
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