#but I was in a situation that I was desperate to get out of
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ frat!rafe decides to participate in no nut november, you disappove... strongly.
summary: in leu of it being november... rafe and his buddies (idiotically) challenge each other to nnn and you do your best to make your boyfriend lose because you cant stand the stupid juvenile game.
warnings: MDNI ! 18+ ! no nut november. male testosterone (ew), fratboy idiocy, topper and kelce (ew), spoiler! unprotected sex, hj, size kink, strong language, use of the nickname 'rafey' and 'baby' (bcs when do i not), kinda mean!rafe ?, kinda plot, kinda smut... yay!
wc: 2k
a/n: hoping this will get me out of my writers block... (its really bad) but tbf i just moved into my new apartment !yay! so hopefully when i'm not tired as hell and feeling broke from the deposit, i'll write regularly again <3
you had tolerated a lot of stupid shit that rafe and his idiot friends would get up to when they were together. especially when they were together, drunk and unsupervised. last night was the same as any other, but your boyfriend, topper and kelce had concocted an idea that put most other idiot ideas they've had to shame.
of course topper birthed the idea in the first place, he wasn't currently getting some anyway. his girlfriend, whom you actually found to be super bitchy, had just dumped him for some older dude that had dropped out long ago. everyone tried to tell him he was better off without ruthie because of how much of a raging cunt she was but he just decided to make his miserable attitude everyone's problem, leading to this stupid bet.
you can easily surmise how it came to be, one too many beers and topper starts talking about how he's better than kelce and rafe because he's not getting any and he can 'handle it like a man'. whatever that means. of course kelce and rafe in their drunken stupor don't enjoy their masculinity being threatened, so all reason goes out the window and they all bet each other $100 they can do no nut november.
the next morning of course, your boyfriend instantly realised what a stupid fucking idea it was the second he saw you making breakfast for the two of you in just panties and one of his t-shirts. he wanted to take you right there on the kitchen floor of your apartment but he couldn't. it's not like he didn't have 100s to spare, he just didn't want to back out of the bet so early and embarrass himself in front of his frat brothers.
though you would argue that the bet itself is doing a lot of embarrassing him on its own. when he had begrudgingly rejected three advances you'd made towards him, you finally caught on.
instead of smacking him 'round the head like you wanted to, you came up with a much better idea that unfortunately for rafe consisted of him losing $100 but consisted of you actually getting laid this month. because fuck that noise, you didn't agree to involuntarily joining in on no nut november.
you began to walk around in your best lingere, with one of his big t-shirts on too, though that definitely only turned him on more. next was wearing tiny pieces of clothing that left little to the imagination whilst always putting yourself in compromising situations; dropping things in front of him, getting 'stuck', spilling things on yourself... basically anything because if he was gonna do something stupid then you were gonna make him reap the consequences.
it was late at night when he'd finally had enough. a huge exam was looming and he'd had no proper way to let off steam for almost the entire month, you 'whoring' around the apartment didn't help either. so when you'd slipped into bed in one of your best lacey sets with a glossy smile, he'd just scowled at you before grabbing you and pressing his lips to yours hungrily.
"you're such a fucking slut" he growled between your lips, his hands desperately gripping wherever they could on your body. you were sat pressed up against the headboard of your bed, thighs haphazardly spread with his body forced between them. you didn't reply, just smiled and groaned into the rough kisses.
he parted his lips from yours and grabbed your throat roughly with one of his hands, anger but also desperation was seeping from his expression. you were, admittedly, a little afraid. rafe would never purposely hurt you but, he was extremely built and towered over you, though rough sex was kinda your thing.
you almost shook off the slight fear in your face before smiling at him again, realising you'd already won. this was a point of no return, the way he was biting his bottom lip in frustration, the heavy breathing in an attempt to control himself, he had unraveled already.
without a word he hooked a finger under your panties and yanked them down forcefully, you giggled at the action and helped him pull them off from around your ankles. he shook his head before kissing down your stomach, he knew you'd won and he'd given into you, that he'd be surrendering a crisp $100 to his asshole friends.
but a smirk stretched across his face as he tugged his pants down too in front of you, "you won baby, i lost no nut november.."
you grinned proudly as you lay back, your legs spread waiting for him to slowly sink his length into you.
in one swift motion, his arm slid under the small of your back as his huge cock plowed all the way into your sopping pussy, "- but we'll see who's really winning when you can't walk tomorrow." an evil smile was strewn across his face now as he mercilessly snapped his hips against yours, ignoring your cries at how he was too big.
he wasn't a complete asshole, he knew your pussy would relax around his length and soon you'd grasp around his neck, moving your hips in sync with his.
rafe hadn't realised just how pent up he was until he felt himself nearly coming undone multiple times, the way you were tightly squeezing around his dick didn't help either.
his eyebrows were permanently stitched together as his hands dug into your hips, still ploughing deep into you.
"fuck baby, fuuckk baby. this pussy loves me s'much huh? couldn't jus' let me be forra single month." his tip kissed your cervix multiple times and you could've cum a number of times, but vowed to not give in before him as you could feel his strokes becoming increasingly sloppy.
his face screwed up and he let his bangs hang messily over his face, not bothering to run a hand through his hair anymore. he was about to spill into you, and you were unravelling too, "you about to come in me rafey? please, fuck- give it to me-"
his eyes rolled back at your words, finally slowing he painted your crimson walls with thick ropes of cum, groaning gutturally the entire time.
"fucking hell. that creampie was just worth $100 baby." he scoffed, shaking his head a little, "'nd it was worth every fuckin' dollar." he half-collapsed on top of you, kissing your forehead, all while still inside of you.
"you'd better go tell topper and kelce then" you grinned mischievously.
#☾.˚ ༘⋆。works#‧₊˚ ⊹ frat!rafe#*ೃˊ- rafey#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#drew starkey#rafe smut#rafe fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe x reader#rafe x fem reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x fem reader#fem reader#smut#obx smut#outerbanks#rafe outerbanks#rafe cameron outerbanks#frat rafe#frat!rafe#fratboy!rafe#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron angst#obx x reader
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Experimenting || Leah Williamson x reader
Based on this request here.
Warning smut 18+, cunnilingus, fingering
Summary You and Leah are both curious, what happens when friendship and curiosity mixes?
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“I’m glad you made me come out tonight, thank you.” You shouted to your best friend, leah, over the music.
“It’s my job to make you come out, we both know that.” Leah winked, sending a playful smirk.
Leah was right, you were always the shy one, the one that hated nights out but Leah was the one that knew you secretly had lots of fun when you did, hence why it was her job to get you out.
Leah especially knew you needed to get out tonight. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend.
“Have I taken your mind off him?” Leah said, her voice full of anger as she said the final word.
“Definitely.” You smiled, before taking a breath. You didn’t know wether it was the alcohol or just the thought of how good Leah looked but you decided to tell her the real reason why you broke up, having slightly changed the story around when you told her. “Le, I never broke up with Alex because of the argument. He broke up with me because he thought I loved you, in a way more than friends. And now, I’m wondering if that’s true or not. I don’t know how I feel. I’m so so confused. I like you I think, more than a friend, but I don’t know if I’m…”
“Kiss me.” Leah cut you off, a smug look on her face. “Kiss me. I’m in the same situation. If we try it on each other, we’ll get our answers.”
Leah had a really good point. What’s the harm of kissing your best friend? It’s not like you’ll end up sleeping together. It’s just a kiss.
It’s not like you’ll end up sleeping together
That was your exact thought but boy, were you wrong.
It certainly didn’t look that way when Leah had you pushed against the bathroom counter of the club just ten minutes after the original thought.
Your lips hadn’t left each other, the two of you experimenting with what the two of you liked.
“Le…” you panted as she dropped to her knees in front of you.
Leah unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down your legs to reveal your panties.
“Are you sure you want this?” Leah asked, looking back up at you.
“Yes.” You said, nodding your head desperately.
Leah pushed your panties to the side, her tongue diving in.
She licked at your clit before tongue fucking your pussy.
You gripped the basin, your eyes screwed shut.
You looked down to see Leah’s hand gripping your thigh, the veins in her arms popping out, her biceps flexing.
You moaned at the sight, the pleasure coursing through you playing a major factor.
“Fuck Leah.” You moaned, feeling Leah messily eat you out.
“Taste so good, baby.” Leah mumbled, the vibrations causing your legs to shake.
Leah sucked at your clit as she brought her fingers up to your folds.
She started trusting her fingers in and out at a steady pace, adding to the pleasure.
With Leah fingering you and eating you out, you were so close.
“Le, ‘m gonna cum. Please done stop — oh god — I’m coming!”
Your pussy tightened around Leah’s fingers as you came, your legs squeezing around Leah’s head.
She let you ride out your orgasm before standing back up, bringing you in for a heated kiss.
You moaned into the kiss, tasting yourself of her tongue.
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that to happen tonight.” You said, looking at Leah who nodded with a smile.
“Neither did I, but I’m glad it happened.”
“Me too.” You agreed
“Let me take you on a date this weekend, please.”
“I’d love to.”
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#woso smut#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson smut
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Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.
"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.
"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.
"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.
"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.
"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"
"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.
"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"
"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."
"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"
"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."
"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.
"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.
"Was too!" She yelled.
"Was not!" Steve yelled.
"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.
"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.
Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.
"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.
"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.
"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.
"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.
"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."
"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.
"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.
"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.
"You liked it?!" Robin asked.
"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.
"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."
"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.
"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.
"What?" Steve asked.
Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.
"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.
Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.
"I am an idiot," Steve said.
"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.
"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."
"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.
"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."
"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.
"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."
"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.
They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.
"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.
"Something else we have in common," she said.
"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."
"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."
"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.
"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.
"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."
"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."
Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.
"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.
"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."
They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.
"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.
"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.
They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.
Part Two
#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#bisexual steve harrington#robin & steve#platonic stobin#platonic soulmates#platonic with a capital p#past stommy#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes#rueleigh's thoughts
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Tummy ache
Do I have kids? No. Do I want kids? Fuck no. Did I still write this because dad logan makes me feel a certain type of way? HELL YES
Pairing: Worst!Logan x single mom!Reader
Summary: It's late and your little daughter Laura won't stop crying and screaming, no matter what you do. You take her to your best friend Wade, who lives in the same apartment buildung. Will he and Logan be able to help you?
Wordcount: 3.4k
Warning/tags: english is not my first language, fluff, slight missunderstandings, Wade bc he needs a warning, implied sexual themes, friends to lovers, just cuteness, Laura doesn't exists as an adult like in the movie, rushed ending?, leave me alone I finished this at midnight
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Logan was snoring on the couch in Wades apartment when loud, frantic knocks sounded on the door. He grumbled in annoyance as he turned, pulling a pillow over his head.
He heard Wade skip to the door in a pair of white underpants with hearts on them and a loose, grey wolverine fangirl shirt. "Must be the horse dildo I ordered" he spoke happily as if it was the most normal thing to say. Once Wade opened the door, the piercing shrieks of a baby crying echoed through the apartment.
You held your one year and a half old daughter in your arms, her face red as she cried into your shoulder. Wade noted that your hair was a mess and you seemed awfully tired. Well- it was late and on any other day, you and your daughter would already be sleeping. But there was clearly something that bothered her. She had been crying and screeching and in discomfort for an hour without you finding what caused it or how to fix it.
You tried feeding her, but she wouldn't open her mouth for the spoon. You tried reading to her, but she would always push away the books. You changed her diapers in case her sensitive skin was irritated by the dampness, but she hadn't peed. You didn't know why she was so distressed and nothing seemed to distract her from whatever it was that made her cry.
You were desperate. And while your best friend Wade wasn't really...fond of kids, which you couldn't blame him for, you still went to him for help. You never truly wanted kids yourself. But when the condom broke and your ex left you upon finding out you were pregnant, you were stuck with your baby. And now you wouldn't trade her for the world. Except in times where she was screaming with no appearant reason. "Hey Wade, I'm so sorry to bother you guys this late at night, but Laura, she won't stop crying. I've tried everything and I don't know what to do" you croaked, rocking the small child in your arms, shushing her to no avail.
Wade brought you inside so you wouldn't stay outside in the hallway any longer. No need for some neighbors to peek their head out of their doors to see what was going on.
In situations like these, Wade could be oddly serious and actually tried to help. He knew you were insecure because of your baby. You didn't want to be a nuisance or burden to anyone because you knew that your daughter could be a lot. Kids were high maintanance and you didn't want to make people feel like they were obligated to make room and drop everything once you arrived with your child. You couldn't expect from anyone that they were okay with you bringing your kid over. But Wade wanted you to know that even though he didn't like kids, you were his best friend and Laura had been nothing but a sweetheart so far. You were always welcome in his apartment.
Wade kicked Logan from the couch "Get your fat ass off the couch, the Lady needs a place to sit" he loudly said over Lauras crying. Logan groaned. You sat on the sofa and tried to take up as little space as possible. "Im sorry Logan, didn't want to disturb your sleep." you apologized meekly. "I can..I can move to the chair here" you muttered, pointing to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that replaced an armchair, which had recently been thrown out of the apartment due to mysterious stains and various rips and cuts in the fabric.
You had met Logan a few times since he lived with Wade and Althea. And you would be a liar if you said he didn't catch your eye. He was tall, broad and very handsome, pretty much right up you alley. But there was no way he was looking for a chaotic single mother that barely had her life together and struggled to raise an unplanned child because her ex left her. Yeah, no. You were miserable. Logan didn't need any of that.
Adding to that, he always seemed to avoid you when Laura was near. You just thought he didn't like kids, which was totally fair. Truthfully, Logan liked kids and had always wanted some of his own, but it just...never happened. With him being the worst wolverine and all.
Then why did he avoid you and your baby?
Simply said, he didn't want to scare her. Most kids looked at him like he was some sort of big, bad monster. Some ran away, some started crying, others hid from him behind their parents when he walked by. He wasn't good with children either because they never let him close enough before getting scared. He was afraid that Laura would react the same way like all children did. He didn't want you to back away once you realised that Laura didn't approve of him.
He couldn't bear only seeing you from afar.
As you were about to stand up from the couch, Logan stopped you. "No, its fine. Stay on the couch. I can move" he replied and you felt another pang as he moved away from you again.
Wade leaned over the couch, looking down at Laura who was still wailing uncontrollably. You sighed deeply, a throbbing ache behind your eyes. "Why won't you stop crying? What's wrong, sweetheart?" you nearly sobbed as well. You were so tired of this, so tired of this sound. You felt so helpless and stupid. "Maybe she wants some food? We have some left-over pizza, I can grind that stuff up into a slurry for her or something" Wade suggested.
You softly shook your head. "She doesn't want to eat, I tried. I also tried to read her a bedtime story, but she just push me away. I also changed her diapers but nothing helped" you rasped, ready to just fall asleep on the spot.
Wade reached down to get your crying daughter out of your arms. "How about you get some sleep while Wolvie and I take care of Laura? Maybe we'll find out what's rubbing her the wrong way." Wade said, cooing to your crying baby. You fell onto the couch, closing your eyes. "I can't just sleep when she is crying" you mumbled, clearly deadly tired.
"We'll take care of her. You go sleep" Logan drawled and his deep voice soothed you even more, made you even more sleepy. It was so easy to let your body betray your mind and you hated it. "Okay..." you whispered, too tired to argue. And before you could snuggle into the couch cushions, you felt two strong arms slip under your body and lifting you up as if you weighted nothing. You were so tired, you couldn't even gasp or protest as Logan brought you into Wades room, your senses enveloped with his scent.
He carefully lowered you down onto the matress, covering you up with a blanket. "Sleep tight, love. We'll take great care of your little one, so you don't have to worry about a thing" he drawled softly and only after closing the door behind him did he hope that you hadn't catched his slip-up, that he had called you love.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
In had been another two hours of constant crying and screaming. The kid must be exhausted from all the crying, but she still didn't stop. If you asked Logan, it became even worse.
"God, can you shut up for a minute? I am trying everything here!" Wade stressed, bouncing Laura in his arms and patting her back. "Don't tell your mom I said that" he whispered right after. Laura wailed and pushed herself away from Wade with her tiny hands, which were surprisingly really strong. She squirmed in his grasp, desperate to be set down.
"This is how you thank me? I've worked my ass off the past hour to get everything to your liking and now you push me away?" he grumbled, but set her down with a loud 'ouch!' after she started to scratch him.
Her tiny feet waddled against the livingroom floor as fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. She had a tummy ache, but she couldn't communicate that with anyone. There were a few words she knew and could say- cat, dog, mama. But she didn't have the words to say that something was hurting.
Logan sat on the couch and watched her as she stood a few feet away from him with her red face, screaming together the whole neighborhood. He sighed deeply, the sound making his ears ring. Then, out of nowhere, she waddled over to him.
"No, no, bub. Not a good idea. Get back to uncle Wade" he told her, scooting up the couch a bit more. He could have just stood up and walk away- why didn’t he? Laura stood between his legs now, demanding uppies from him as she cried. Logan shook his head, ready to call Wade from the kitchen, when Laura began screetching, stretching herself to Logan, standing on her small tip toes.
With a huff, he picked her up, his big and warm hands eveloping her small body. He leaned back against the couch with her on his lap. To his surpise, she quieted down. "You okay now, bub?" he asked her, jumping as she snuggled herself against his chest. Due to his mutation, Logan was always very warm. His whole body was like a heater and that warmth soothed Lauras tummy ache, unbeknownst to him.
The apartment was quiet now, only a few hiccups and sighs coming from Laura as she let her stomach ache be washed away by Logans cozy warm body. He didn't know what to do! One minute he was tortured by her screams and now she was napping on him. On him! Out of all people, she chose to rest on him.
"Is she dead!?" It was now Wades turn to yell as he came stumbling into the kitchen because it suddenly went all quiet. Logan didn't answer him nor did he move a muscle, too scared to wake your baby up.
"What the fuck" Wade blurted out upon seeing something he had never thought he would ever witness in his entire life. Logan shushed him, making Wade frown. He came closer, his face next to Lauras sleeping one "You little cheating slut" he sharply whispered, earning himself a shove from Logan. "Seriously, did you knock her out? Why is she sleeping all of a sudden?" Wade asked with crossed arms.
"I don't know. She wanted me to pick her up, so I did. Then she stopped crying and fell asleep" Logan explained, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of Lauras breath, her tiny hand tightly holding onto his shirt.
"Wow" Wade said. "You're the baby whisperer" Logan shot him a glare.
Wade went on a rant about how everything would have been easier if Logan took Laura from the start before finally falling asleep draped over the chair, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. For a moment, Logan thought about bringing Laura to you so she could sleep with her mom. But as he tried to peel her off of him, she started fuzzing and whimpering until she was laying back on his chest.
He sighed deeply. Well, gotta make the best of the situation, huh? With a grunt, he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep with a broad hand securily holding Laura on top of him.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
You woke up well rested. Weird. You haven't slept this good since Laura had been born.
Laura!
You jumped awake, stumbling over some stuff in Wades room before you reached the door. It was quiet as you opened it and you were met with the sight of Logan, the fucking Wolverine, sound asleep with your daughter cuddled up on him as if he was some kind of big teddy.
Your heart soared in your chest, your stomach did flips and summer saults. And your pussy throbbed. Couldn't help it, seeing him with your baby did something to your ovaries. It was...so cute. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with them, trace patterns onto his pecks while Laura would squeak out an adorable smile-
"Mama" Laura squealed suddenly, flashing you a smile with her few teeth. "Hey there, baby" you cooed to her, kneeling down next to the couch to be eye-level with her. She smiled brightly, whatever it was that had bothered her yesterday completely forgotten. "You seem happy using uncle Logan as a pillow" you said to her, kissing her chubby cheek.
Logan started waking up, only registering Laura at first. "You slept well, bub?" he muttered with a deep sleep laced voice, gently rubbing Lauras small head with his large hand that easily fitted around the back of her head.
"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking" you giggled softly, amused by the way Logan nearly jumped out of his skin upon noticing that you were there too, witnessing how he went soft for your daughter. An embarrassed blush krept onto his face and he cleared his throat, sitting up and avoiding your gaze. "Sorry, she...she only stopped crying when she sat on my lap"
You smiled softly at him. "Seems like she really likes you, then." and I like you too, you wanted to add, but didn't. "She is usually not that touchy with people she barely met" you said and hearing your reassurance- the fact that Laura seemed to like him- it warmed his heart. But he would never admit that.
"Well, I guess I'm flattered" Logan replied with the hint of a smile, his gaze soft as you lost yourself in his eyes, Lauras babbling fading into the background. For a moment, you let yourself think about what could have been. This baby, it could have been Logans and yours. She could have been born because two people truly loved each other. Did Logan love you? You doubted it. But when he looked at you like that, you allowed yourself to be fooled.
"I don't know how you manage to fuck each other just with your eyes, but get a room. There are children present" Wade suddenly said outraged, covering Mary Puppins eyes.
You picked up Laura from Logans lap, holding her against your hip to bring distance between you, Logan and Wades teasing. Logan cleared his throat, clearly disappointed.
"I am so, so thankful that you guys helped me. I don't know what you did or what was wrong with her, but she seems all better now. Is there anything I can do to show my gratitude? you asked, gently bouncing Laura in your arms.
Logan shook his head "No need, bub" he grumbled in his deep voice. He would have done this a thousand times if it meant he could hold your baby in his arms as if it was his. "Make that creamy ass mac and cheese and my life is yours. That stuff tastes and sounds better than any pussy" Wade chimes in, making you laugh. You promised to invite both of them over for dinner sometimes this week and they happily agreed. Laura squeaked out a cute "bye!" before you went back to your own apartment again.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
Ever since that day, visits to either Wades or your apartment became more frequent and Laura couldn't be happier seeing Logan pretty much every day. She would stick to his leg from the minute she saw him and to the last second before he left. It was adorable and made you fall even deeper in love with someone you could never have.
Wade made it his mission to steal Laura away from you and Logan. Partly because he wanted you to spend more time alone, and to teach her some words since he was her 'uncle' after all.
Laura sat on his lap, staring down at Wades phone. He looked over her head. He had a picture open that showed you, Laura, Logan and Wade. "And who is that?" he pointed to you, earning a delighted squeal from Laura as she pointed to your smiling face on the picture as well "Mama!" she babbled. Wade cheered her on, applauding her. "That's right, and that is Dada. Dada" he pointed to Logan. Laura recognized him, smiling brightly and giggling, but she didn't say anything. "Can you say that? Dada?" Wade asked in the best baby voice he could muster. But still, Laura wouldn't say anything. "Come on, say Dada. Da-da" Wade tried one last time, but Laura unwrapped himself from his arms to go and play with some toys scrattered on the floor. He huffed in frustration. It was easier to teach kids swear words than this.
Two days later, the day for the dinner came and someone rang your doorbell. You left Laura to play on her playmat and went over to the door, opening it a slit before realising that it was Logan. You fixed your hair with flushed cheeks, you hadn't expected him to come this early, you had just started the dinner preperations. "Oh, hey Logan. What are you doing here? Dinner was planned in two hours" you said, gingerly letting him into your apartment which you hadn't had the time to tidy up yet. Logan wasn't the guy to judge, but you still felt insecure.
"I thought I'd help you with the cooking and all. Look after Laura so you can work in peace" he said, knowing that he was just here to spend more time with you and Laura alone to give him the feeling of having his own little domestic family that he will never actually experience.
You smiled at him "That's very nice of you, but Laura is actually being very umcomplicated today" speaking of which, you showed him that your kid was silently playing with her toys. Upon noticing you and Logan, she squealed and stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance, before she waddled up to him excitedly. "There's my little pumpkin" he drawled, bending down to pick her up swiftly.
"Dada!" she giggled, making you an Logan stop in your tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked you, looking over at you with a shocked expression. You frowned. You had never taught her to say that. "Sweetheart, who is that?" You asked the little girl, tapping Logans arm, just to be sure you hadn't heard her incorrectly. "Dada" she squeaks again, playing with his coarse beard.
You both looked at each other in disbelieve and for a second, you feared Logan woulf shove Laura into your arms and leave. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know where she got that from" you tried to apologize, but the rejection from Logan never came.
He held her lovingly to his chest, giving her forhead a kiss. It made your heart pound faster. "No, it's okay" he reassured you, his large hand enveloping the back of Lauras head. "I...I could be her dad. If you want me to be" his question struck you like lightning, it was like a damn marriage proposal.
A marriage proposal you would never say no to. He looked at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer and worrying he had overstepped.
"Yes. Be the father she never had. And please be the love I always wanted" you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was soft, your lips brushing against the other and it was nothing you had ever felt before. You had kissed your ex- but never did it feel like this. So right. His free hand snaked around your waist, deepening the kiss until Laura decided to pull at your shiny necklace.
You smiled at her, taking her into your arms. "Do you want to play with daddy while I make mac and cheese?" you asked your daughter and minutes later, Logan had brought her playmat and some toys into the kitchen to sit beside her on the ground to watch and entertain her. It was like nothing had changed. Little did you know, Logan had accepted the little girl as his daughter way before today, even if you guys had never confessed.
And as you stole glances down to Logan, who was already looking at you with these half lidded bedroom eyes, you knew that after dinner, Logan and you would be trying for Lauras sibling.
_______________________________
I really hoped you liked this, I feel like I've rusted a bit. Still got a lot of smut ideas and fics open that I need to finish. Wish me luck☹ if you saw any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Leave me alone im tired
Btw, thanks to @buck-star for motivation me to finally finish this <33
#logan howlett x reader#x men#hugh jackman#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#x reader#logan howlett#logan wolverine#marvel#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#worst wolverine#worst wolverine x reader#mcu#logan howlett fluff#fluff#oneshot
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BESTFRIENDS GIRLFRIEND.
a ‘mini’ continuation of this fic here!
summary: the night at the beach seemed to be long forgotten. or that’s what you thought until a stupid treasure hunt leads you and jj sharing a place in a locked incubation device and he helps you remember where it all started.
a/n: just recently finished season four & that scene w kiara and jj gave me the perfect idea. i know it doesn’t really ‘match’ the timeline of the last one but we can all pretend that it does <3
warnings: voyeurism , , mean!jj , reader that plays naive , fingering , use of afab anatomy , mentions of cheating , heavy petting.
You should’ve known you were setting yourself up for failure. The minute you saw the slight smirk on JJ’s face the minute you offered to take Kiara’s place— you should’ve known something was going to happen.
Though , almost getting killed and getting your life saved by JJ Maybank was definitely not on your BINGO card.
Things between you and JJ hadn’t settled since that day night. If anything , it only made everything worse.
You were grateful another adventure opened up for the time being because pulling away from John B made you feel sick. You were eaten up by guilt , fear that your dirty little secret would blow up in your face and you’d have to own up to what you’ve done.
You could only imagine the devastation it’d cause John B and the disappointed looks from Kiara and Pope. The idea alone made your stomach sick.
JJ made it impossible to forget. He never brought it up. Not once. But that look in his eyes every time he looked at you made that same familiar feeling from that night on the beach wash up all over again— and you just knew.
You laid there in absolute dread in silence. Your eyes had opened before JJ’s and the immediate feeling of pure terror overcame you. Your memories washed back up and as the bends slowly faded away , the reality of the situation sunk in.
Practically quarantined with JJ , in this closed space , for twelve hours seemed like the test of a lifetime.
As he began to stir away , you swallowed harshly and scooted away. You clutched your necklace , anxiously fiddling with the string as you desperately search for nearby nurses.
“My savior.”
His voice was raspy. A hint of edge around the words as he cleared his throat roughly.
Silence filled the air pretty quickly and JJ’s mouth made a sound. He played it casual , coy like he always did. Cocking his head towards the side , he stared at you. “Ignoring me?”
Again , you decided to stay silent. Your cheek was raw with how hard you were biting it.
JJ sighed. “You know , I’ve been waiting to get you alone since that night on the beach.” He murmured. “A bit offended you actin’ like nothing happened.”
He was baiting you and you knew it. You refused to give and kept staring out the circular window.
“C’mon , Y/N. . .” JJ drug out your name barely above a whisper. You could feel him inching closer making you start to feel hot , your ears burning at the tips. “Have you fucked him yet? After me?”
His question made you flinch.
“Stop playing little miss innocent —” JJ narrowed his eyes , bringing up his index finger to your chin. Everything in you was screaming at you to not make the same mistake twice , to stand your ground , to fight him. . . but you were like putty in his hands. The minute you felt his skin on yours , you felt a fire where he touched and your head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. “I know you think about it. About me.”
JJ looked into your eyes and paused , before a wide smirk developed on his face. “You haven’t , have you?” You didn’t need to say it , it was written all over your face. You were never good at keeping secrets. You were always so easy to read.
Especially by him.
He knew you like the back of his hand. All that pining had finally paid off— in his mind.
“How come?”
“JJ stop it.” You mumbled , moving to push his hand away. But he didn’t care. Instead he turned on his side to look at you , feeling like the first time all over again.
God , he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. About you.
John B was his bestfriend , his brother , but you— he couldn’t help but be addicted to you. He couldn’t change it and he didn’t want to. He’d risk loosing it all , everything , just to have you.
“You liked it—” he taunted. “You liked it so much , that I ruined your sweet little pussy for anyone else. It only remembers me. It only wants me.”
You shivered and shook your head. “No. I—I love John B. You’re acting crazy.”
“Crazy?” JJ let out a dry laugh. “You should know just how crazy I can be , baby.”
“He’s your bestfriend , JJ.” You sighed and shook your head , pushing his hand that was starting to drift downwards away. “You know this is wrong.”
“I don’t care if it is.” JJ scoffed. “I meant what I said that night. You were supposed to be for me.”
His words made you shiver. The memories crashed onto you like waves , so vividly that you could almost feel exactly how you felt sprawled out on the sand with your legs wide open just for him.
JJ noticed your reaction and smirked. It only pushed him further. “You know it , don’t you?”
You pursed your lips. Pushing your chin up defiantly as you scooted closer to the window , putting as much space between the two of you as possible.
JJ rolled his eyes. “C’mon. You might be able to lie to yourself and lie to John B— but you can’t lie to me, baby.” He murmured softly , delicately. There was a teasing tone to his voice that irritated you because you knew he was right and you hated yourself for it.
“You’re acting crazy , JJ.” You whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed that this was all a dream— a nightmare. Though the warmth of JJ’s breath and how your heart beat so loudly you thought it’d beat out of your chest , you knew it was real. Too real.
“Maybe I’m just crazy about you.”
Suddenly everything began to feel hot. The all knowing fact that you were trapped in this stupid metal bubble , next to him , it all started feeling too much. Beads of sweat dripped down your forehead , and your hand twitched. Your chest began to rise and fall quickly and you weren’t sure what you were more bothered by.
The claustrophobic , suffocating feeling: or the thump between your thighs that you wouldn’t be able to blame on alcohol.
Light as a feather , his fingertips tapped across the smooth skin of your thigh. He watched you in satisfaction. Loving the way you responded to him despite you trying to fight it. “It’s just you and me in here , baby—” he cooed in your ear. Leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the side of your neck , making your breathing hitch. “Nobody’s gonna know.”
“I–I’ll know.” You answered softly , still refusing to look at him. You hated the way it began to hurt. How it started to burn with a certain need that only JJ could subside. Everything in your body was screaming for him. To feel him again. But your head was fighting it.
“That never stopped you before.” He quipped back.
You turned your head to look at him again. Looking into his eyes that had a certain darkness swimming inside of them. You hated it. You hated him. Most of all , you hated yourself for how badly you wanted him.
Without another thought , becoming slightly delirious and deciding to cave and give in , you rushed forward and pressed your mouth against his. On instinct , he was there. Kissing you back feverishly , gripping onto you like a man starved. He tasted of saltwater and weed , the familiar taste bringing out a soft moan from your throat.
The sound made him smirk. He liked knowing you had given in. That he got what he wanted.
And he was going to make the most of it.
His hand slipped between the two of you , immediately cupping your sex. You gasped , breaking the kiss for air. He hummed in response , rubbing soft and achingly slow circles. “Beg for it.”
“W–What?” You breathed , taken off guard.
“You heard me.” JJ said again , halting his movements. JJ gripped your chin , looking down at you. “Beg me for it.”
“JJ—”
“Beg.”
He wanted to know he had the control. The power. You knew it. As much as you wanted to deny him of it , to refuse it , you couldn’t. It ached agonizingly , just looking at him ignited something within you. Your whole body was on fire and now that it started , there was no way you would have enough willpower to put it out.
“Please. . .” you whimpered , arching your back to feel some type of friction again. JJ wanted to groan right then and there, give in to you. But he refused. He ignored the way his cock was hard and angry , rubbing against the fabric of his underwear harshly. Frowning , you grabbed onto him , fisting his shirt to bring him closer. “Please touch me , JJ. Please. I need it. I need you.”
Your words were like a song to him. He let out a groan deep within his chest and kissed you again , harder , letting his tongue slip past your lips as you gasped when his hand pushed the fabric of your tiny shorts to the side.
His index finger ran up your slit , basking in the slickness. JJ smirked down at you , cocking his head to the side. “Your pussy loves me.” He boasted , and you weren’t in a position to disagree.
“Still my dirty girl , huh?” JJ moaned , sliding his finger inside of you. He grunted as he felt your walls stretch out , the tightness of it amusing him. “I knew I ruined you for him— can’t fuck him now , huh? Too busy thinkin’ bout me?”
You only responded with a moan , throwing your head back as you felt yourself fill up.
JJ watched you with a glimmer in his eyes. He swore had had never seen something hotter. The way your eyebrows scrunched up , your lips pursed , he could your feels contracting around his finger and he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. “You want more , baby?”
“Yes , JJ , yes. Please. . .”
“Tell me your mine.” He demanded but his voice was softer now. Almost pleading.
Your mind was hazy. You almost couldn’t understand what you were saying— but you knew in this moment it was true. “I’m yours , JJ. I’m yours.”
“Fuck.” He muttered. Dropping his head to kiss your neck , he added in another finger , rutting against the side of your thigh. He pumped his fingers in and out of you , curling upwards just enough to graze over the spot you needed most.
“Yes—” you breathed. Your head lulled to the side and your toes curled. It felt good. The coolness of his metal rings that slapped against your clit each time he pumped his fingers in and out sent jolts up your spine. It felt frivolous , like you were a school girl getting fingered by her first person. But JJ knew just what to do. He knew what you liked , how to make it feel good.
“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” JJ said , kissing your mouth. You moaned into it , shaking underneath him as the feeling of his mouth on yours amplified the pleasure you were feeling.
The familiar feelimg began building up in your tummy and you gasped , pulling away as you used him to steady yourself. He sped up , just a little , keeping the same place as before. He cooed in your ear , kissing and sucking on different places. “Cum for me. Cum for me , give it to me.”
With your head thrown back , you felt your legs shaking. A dirty , loud moan left your mouth , one that made JJ’s ears ring. You grinded against him , riding out your high.
“My fucking girl—”
You came down breathlessly , with a new urge. You quickly attached yourself to him , wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. He kissed you back hungrily , grinding into you.
You jumped when you heard a knock on the glass.
“Sorry to um— interrupt.” The nurse cleared her throat awkwardly , looking away. “We need to check your vitals. . .”
And just like that , the weight of the world and your decisions fell back on your shoulders.
#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank#jj maybank fanfiction#outer banks imagines#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank outer banks#dark jj maybank smut#smut jj maybank#jj maybank x reader smut#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x you#obx jj#jj obx#jj outer banks#jj x y/n#jj x reader#jj smut#maybank#dark!jj maybank x reader
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No Such Thing | Ch 10
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: After a messy breakup and an even messier night out , you find an unlikely friend in your coworker’s ex boyfriend. A messy beginning and an even messier middle, who knows about the end.
Genre: Romance, comedy, smut (later chapters)
Warning: This chapter contains intense scenes of violence, injury, and emotional distress. Reader discretion is advised.
01 | 02| 03| 04| 05| 06 |07| 08 | 09| 10
Drabbles:
I can & I will
Disconnect
The silence in the room thickens as Jungkook locks eyes with Mark. The knife gleams in Mark's hand, the light reflecting off the blade like a cruel reminder of how far this situation has escalated. Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, his every muscle coiled, ready for whatever Mark is about to do.
“Mark,” Jungkook says, his voice low and steady, despite the adrenaline rushing through him. “This isn’t you. Let her go.”
Mark's lips curl into a mocking smile, the knife still gripped tightly. “You think I’m doing this for me? I’m doing this for us.” He gestures between the two of them, eyes flicking to you, then back to Jungkook. “She’s carrying my child, Jungkook. You think you can just walk in here and take her away like it’s nothing? You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
Jungkook's hands tighten into fists at his sides. He’s seen Mark angry before, but this is different—this isn’t just anger. There’s something deeper, something desperate, and that scares him more than the knife. Mark’s grief, his obsession—it’s consuming him.
“I don’t care what you think you’re doing,” Jungkook growls, his eyes never leaving Mark’s. “You’ve already crossed the line. Let her go, or I’ll make you.”
Mark’s expression falters for a split second, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, but it’s quickly replaced by a cold, calculated resolve. He steps forward, closing the distance, the knife now aimed toward Jungkook, the tip dangerously close to his chest. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.”
The air between them crackles with tension. Jungkook doesn’t flinch. His body is still, but his mind is racing, calculating the distance, the speed, the moves he needs to make to protect you.
“Mark, listen to me.” Jungkook takes a slow step forward, his voice soft but firm, trying to reach whatever sanity is left in him. “This isn’t the way. I’m not here to fight you. But if you keep pushing, if you keep doing this… I’ll have no choice but to make you.”
Mark’s eyes flicker—there’s hesitation, just a second of it. His grip on the knife falters. It’s enough.
In that split second, Jungkook moves.
He grabs Mark’s wrist with a force he didn’t know he had, twisting it just enough to make the knife drop to the floor with a clatter. Before Mark can react, Jungkook pushes him back, his body slamming into the wall with a thud. The shock in Mark’s eyes is almost too much to bear, but Jungkook doesn’t stop.
“Stay the hell away from her,” he spits, his voice a growl, his chest heaving with rage. He takes a step back, ensuring Mark is down for the moment, his hand still gripping the front of his shirt.
You watch, breath caught in your throat, heart racing. Mark, who was once so close to you, so familiar, now seems like a stranger—a broken man, consumed by something darker than you could’ve ever imagined.
Jungkook turns to you, his face softening as his gaze lands on you. “Are you okay?” His voice is gentler now, but the raw intensity of his presence doesn’t waver.
You nod, your eyes filling with tears. “I’m fine now. You came for me… you actually came.”
Jungkook reaches for you, his hands trembling as he pulls you into his arms, his warmth surrounding you like a shield. You cling to him, feeling safe for the first time in what feels like forever.
Mark is still on the floor, dazed, but his presence is no longer a threat. For now, the fight is over. The tension has broken, but the weight of what’s just happened presses down on all of you.
“I’m taking you home,” Jungkook murmurs against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re not going anywhere with him, ever again.”
You nod against his chest, relief flooding through you, but the fear doesn’t quite leave. Not yet. You glance back at Mark, who is still on the floor, rage and confusion swirling in his eyes. But for now, all that matters is that you’re safe. You’re free.
As Jungkook leads you toward the door, Mark’s voice rasps behind you, a broken whisper. “You think you’ve won? You think I’ll just let her go?”
Jungkook doesn’t turn back. He pulls you out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind you. You’re not looking back anymore. You don’t need to.
Mark’s eyes gleam with madness, his hand gripping the knife as he lunges forward, rage propelling him. Before you can even react, Jungkook steps into the line of fire, placing himself between you and the blade.
“No!” you scream, but the words feel hollow in the air.
Jungkook’s body slams into Mark’s with a force that sends them both stumbling. The knife swings dangerously close to Jungkook’s side as he twists, trying to wrestle it away. He barely avoids the blade, but Mark’s erratic movements push him backward. In a desperate bid for control, Mark drives the knife toward Jungkook’s stomach.
The flash of steel cuts through the space between them, and with a sickening gasp, Jungkook’s face contorts in pain. His body stiffens as the blade makes contact, slicing through his side. Blood stains his shirt, and for a second, everything goes silent.
“Jungkook!” you cry out, your heart stopping as you watch him stagger, his hand clutching his side, the pain etched into his features.
He stumbles back, his knees buckling, but he keeps himself upright. His eyes lock on you, a faint smile fighting its way through the pain.
“I’m... fine,” Jungkook grits out, but the blood seeping through his fingers betrays his words. He doesn’t have the strength to hide it.
Mark watches the scene unfold, his face twisting into something darker—more triumphant. He steps toward Jungkook, the knife still in his hand, his breathing shallow but filled with satisfaction.
“You’re not leaving with her,” Mark spits, his voice venomous. He takes a step closer to Jungkook, but this time, Jungkook doesn’t back down.
The room spins for you as you watch Jungkook’s blood stain the floor beneath him. A wave of panic rises in your chest, but you know you have to act. Your body moves before your mind can catch up, running toward Mark, ready to do whatever it takes to stop him from harming Jungkook further.
But before you can reach him, Mark raises the knife again, his eyes fixed on Jungkook. In that instant, everything seems to slow down.
Jungkook’s breath hitches, his eyes wide with the realization that Mark is coming in for another strike. His body is shaking, not just from the pain but from the sheer force of his struggle to stay standing.
“Get away from him!” you scream, launching yourself toward Mark, hands reaching for anything you can use to protect him.
The sharp sound of the blade slicing through the air fills the room just as your fingers graze the handle of a chair nearby. You grab it with everything you have and swing it in Mark’s direction. The impact is enough to knock him off balance, but it’s only a momentary distraction.
Jungkook gasps, his body sinking to the floor as he tries to steady himself. His hand presses harder against the wound, but it’s clear he’s losing the battle. Blood pours from the cut, staining the carpet, and his vision starts to blur.
“No, no, no...” you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you kneel beside him. You try to keep him upright, but the weight of his injury is too much.
Mark regains his footing, a wicked smile curling on his lips as he watches the scene unfold. He raises the knife one more time.
“I’m not done yet,” he growls, advancing on you both.
You can barely breathe as you try to think of something—anything—to stop him. The air is thick with fear, the tension suffocating.
Jungkook’s breath comes in short, painful gasps, his hand still clutching his side. “Run,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Please... run.”
Before you can react, Mark lunges forward, the knife poised to strike.
Then, in a blur, the door to the apartment slams open with a deafening crash.
Someone’s footsteps echo in the hallway.
Everything comes to a halt.
Mark freezes.
You turn, heart hammering in your chest, desperate for help—but who could it be? Who’s coming to save you now?
Jungkook’s hand slips from his wound, his vision fading as he struggles to stay conscious. He collapses into your arms, his body heavy against you.
You don’t know who’s at the door—but you don’t care. You know the moment you hear those footsteps, the story is far from over.
———
Jungkook’s head lulls against your chest as you hold him, his breathing shallow, uneven. Your heart races with a panic you can't seem to shake. Blood stains your hands, your arms, and you're terrified it might be too late. The weight of his limp body is unbearable, and all you can do is hold on, pray that he can hang on too.
You look up at Mark, who’s still reeling from the confrontation, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He’s on the floor now, but there’s no hint of surrender in his eyes. He’s seething, clawing his way up, but this time, he doesn’t reach for the knife. Instead, he just glares, still bent on whatever twisted delusion he’s clinging to.
“You think this is over?” Mark sneers, his eyes darting between you and Jungkook. “She’ll always be mine. You can’t have her.”
You don’t even have the energy to respond, your attention solely on the man in your arms. Your fingers tremble as you try to steady his breathing. “Jungkook, please, stay with me... I need you. Please, don’t leave me now.”
Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps echoes through the hallway, followed by a sharp knock on the door. Mark’s head snaps toward it, his expression shifting from anger to something darker. He doesn't make a move to stop whoever’s coming, but you can feel the tension building.
The door slams open, and in steps Hyejin.
For a moment, everything stands still. Her eyes lock onto you, then to Jungkook, her gaze darting between the two of you as if trying to understand what’s happening. She’s breathless, her face flushed from running, but there’s no fear in her eyes, only a cold, calculating determination.
“What the hell happened?” Hyejin’s voice is sharp, demanding, but it’s laced with genuine concern as she steps further into the apartment.
Mark’s face twists with frustration and disbelief. “Hyejin, stay out of this.”
But Hyejin doesn’t flinch. She steps past him without a second glance, crouching down beside you and Jungkook, her eyes scanning his injury with trained precision. “What happened? He’s bleeding out. We need to get him help now.”
Your heart lurches in your chest. “I—he’s been stabbed. I don’t know what to do—he’s losing so much blood.”
Hyejin doesn’t waste a second. She quickly presses her hand against the wound, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. Her touch is firm but quick, and you can feel her steadying influence wash over you as she works with practiced hands. But her eyes never leave Jungkook’s face.
“Stay with me, Jungkook. You’re okay, we’re getting you out of here.” Her voice is calm, controlled, but there’s an edge to it—something raw that snaps at you.
Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Jungkook’s pale face, his eyes fluttering. He’s barely holding on, and you feel a wave of helplessness crash over you. “Please, please, don’t leave me... not like this.” You whisper, your voice breaking.
Mark sneers from the side, his lips curling in anger. “You think you can fix him? He’s already dead. You won’t save him.”
Hyejin doesn’t even look at him. “Shut up, Mark.” Her voice is cold, unflinching. She continues to apply pressure to the wound, her eyes flicking between you and Jungkook. “We’re getting him out of here. The cops and help are on the way.”
Mark moves, his hands balling into fists, and for a moment, you think he might try something, but Hyejin stands up quickly, blocking him with her body, her posture rigid with authority. “Don’t. If you want to leave here alive, you’ll stay out of it.”
The door is open, and you hear the distant sound of sirens, the faint promise of rescue. But it's still too far away.
“Stay with me, Jungkook,” you whisper again, your hand clutching his weakly in yours. His pulse is slow, irregular, and every second feels like it’s slipping away. You glance at Hyejin desperately. “Please... Please save him.”
Hyejin nods, her expression hardening with determination. “I’m not letting him die. Help is on the way.” She looks over her shoulder, her gaze flicking toward Mark one last time. “You’re done here. Go. Leave before I make you.”
Mark hesitates for a moment, glaring at her, then at you, before finally sneering in disgust. “This isn’t over. You can’t keep her.” His voice drips with venom, but he knows he’s beaten for now.
Without another word, Mark turns and storms out, the door slamming shut behind him.
As the silence settles in, you breathe in deeply, allowing the air to fill your lungs. But the reality of the situation weighs heavy, and you know that this battle isn’t over. Not by a long shot. Jungkook’s life hangs in the balance, and you’re not sure you can handle losing him again.
But as Hyejin presses on the wound, and the distant sirens grow louder, you hold on to one fragile hope.
_____________
I apologise for the delay and the shortness of this chapter :(
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When someone has 100kg of weight crushing them and you remove 10kg of it, it’s natural for their response to be “that’s a start, now about the other 90kg.” That’s not mean; that’s basic self worth.
When we successfully defeated Donald Trump, there was lukewarm relief, a reminder that you were only allowed one or maybe two days to celebrate and then it was back to work.
The United States doesn’t have public healthcare, university tuition is extortionate, and the federal minimum wage is $7.25 unless you’re a server in which case it’s $2 and let’s hope all your customers are generous enough to toss you a percentage of their bill. Of course Americans wanted better.
The only post I saw about Juneteenth was reminding us that there were enslaved people who were killed instead of freed and therefore celebrating the end of chattel slavery was wrong, and besides, we have prison labor so nothing really changed or got better and there’s nothing to celebrate anyway.
I don’t know if you’re black, but as a white person I don’t expect black people to just be grateful that they’re not plantation slaves anymore.
So of course when we have a major setback, we fall apart and have to start frantic damage control.
People are falling apart because their situations were already precarious and now it’s about to get worse.
Frantic discourse ensues over how much people are allowed to unplug before it becomes bad and selfish. Yes, maybe you can have this one day off Mr. Cratchit but you better be here and miserable early the next morning.
As someone who has dealt with charities a lot, charities and activists come on strong because they need all the help they can get. You have to be able to be confident in your “sorry, I can’t, but I wish you the best” without getting validation from them, because they have bigger priorities.
Like abusive bosses always insisting you squeeze out more, more, more, and any achievement is just proof you were lazy the other times and impetus for more work.
It might feel the same, but this really isn’t an OK comparison to make. Bosses are doing it from a place of power and with the purpose of leeching more from you to give themselves more privilege. Oppressed people are doing it from a place of desperation, and that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to let yourself drown, but you have to get your validation about it from someone other than them. Redirect your anger to the people in our respective countries who voted us into these situations and just took for granted that people like you and me would step up and give more help to the people who are getting fucked over through these people’s selfishness.
The harsh truth about activism is that the people you’re doing it for are in shitty situations, which means you’re going to see a lot of anger about those shitty situations and a lot of pressure to do more. You have to get confident about your own boundaries and recognise who is really causing the stress you’re under.
I’m sorry but if there is one thing the Tumblr left needs crucially, it’s the ability to celebrate.
I remember when marriage equality was called and there were waves of rainbows and love wins posts. When we successfully defeated Donald Trump, there was lukewarm relief, a reminder that you were only allowed one or maybe two days to celebrate and then it was back to work. That is if you were even a good person for voting Biden. We never did settle if he was better than Trump. (We did.). We didn’t celebrate student loan debt relief or any of the accomplishments of the Biden administration, or any of the times Trump was blocked, or other countries succeeding in keeping fascists out of office. Who cares if we had successes? It’s not good enough. Back to work!
And this anti-celebratory attitude stretches back to the past. On the 100th anniversary of female suffrage in America, we were reminded that not all women had the vote and so we weren’t allowed to celebrate. The only post I saw about Juneteenth was reminding us that there were enslaved people who were killed instead of freed and therefore celebrating the end of chattel slavery was wrong, and besides, we have prison labor so nothing really changed or got better and there’s nothing to celebrate anyway. Trans Day of Visibility comes with Trans Day of Remembrance so that people don’t fill the tags with hate crimes and death. So on and so forth. Nothing gets better. Nothing changes. Back to work!
So of course when we have a major setback, we fall apart and have to start frantic damage control. Frantic discourse ensues over how much people are allowed to unplug before it becomes bad and selfish. Yes, maybe you can have this one day off Mr. Cratchit but you better be here and miserable early the next morning. Like abusive bosses always insisting you squeeze out more, more, more, and any achievement is just proof you were lazy the other times and impetus for more work.
If we are never allowed to acknowledge any of our victories, how are we supposed to survive our defeats?
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hii i have a little request for ekko like omg i love him so bad
so imagine winter times come around and you an ekko are in your shared room (the firelights bases ofc)
and he sees you shivering under your cover so he comes over and just cuddles all up under you
thennn a few words and giggles are shared and thingss get a little heated between yall and ykyk 🤗
I hope you wanted smut. That’s what I made.
Arcane Imagines- Ekko
Still Cold
⚠️WARNING🔞: SMUTTTT
[arcane] [main page]
Prompt: it’s cold, you need to be warmed up. (Established relationship)
Contains: hand job, oral m! Receiving. Afab. Whimpering, whiny sub Ekko:(
You shiver, wearing a few layers of clothes along with tons of blankets. Your nose practically freezing off since you feel claustrophobic if you put my face under the covers. You hear the door open to you and your boyfriend’s shared room. Steps coming towards me. “You cold or something?” He asks, You just scoff in response like it wasn't obvious.
He snickers, throwing the blankets off of you causing you to whine. “Oh shush, c’mere you big baby.” He climbs into bed, pulling your body on top of his.
”You’re warm.” You mumble, clinging onto him. “I’m so cold.” You complain, he puts the covers back over the both of you.
“I know a way to make us even warmer.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you shove his face away from your neck before he got the chance to pounce on it with his lips. He got hard before he even got into the bed. “I’m too cold to think about that.” You huff, adjusting yourself on him so you were more comfortable.
It didn’t help Ekko’s situation though. He needed you badly and you put yourself right over his crotch. He tensed up but nonetheless stayed quiet, rubbing your back to get you warmer. “My body aches from how cold it is.” You wiggle over top of him. Ekko lets out a low, almost inaudible grunt. “Stop moving so much.” He grabs your hips to keep you in place. “Sorry, sorry.”
A few moments go by and you begin to understand why he told you to stop moving. You feel something poking against your core. Your lips lined into a smirk, deciding to mess with him. “Ekko, massage me again.” You look at him with a pout. His eyes met yours, he seemed extremely nervous. He never wanted to push anything on you, so when you said you were too cold to think about it he stopped and he tried to take the thought out of his brain.
“Um, alright.” His hands move on your back again, you let out a soft moan, humming into his chest. The vibration only worsening his perverted thoughts. Your digits find his hips, going up and down his body in slow motions. He wanted to stop and shove you off of him.
You were so soft, such a comforting body he just wanted to explore every part of you. Keep you warm and safe. His member twitches and you chuckle. His face flushes.
“He sure has a lot to say.” You tease him, not looking at him as your hand goes underneath you, trailing all the way down to the place he needed you most. He lets out a gasp.
Your smaller hand palms him through his sweatpants. “Pretty girl, please.” He whimpers, he pulls his arms up to his head, watching your focused expression. “You wanted to keep me warm, right?” A smug smile tugging upwards, “my hands are pretty cold.” You go to his ear, kissing it softly as the hand that was once palming him went to the waistline of his pants. “Gonna treat you so well.” You lay your head back down on his chest, moving your body slightly off of him so you could get a better view of your actions.
Ekko watches as his girlfriend extracts his dick from his clothing agonizingly slow. Spitting on your hand before smearing it on his tip, mixed with his precum. “So cute.” You compliment.
“Cute?” He huffs, your thumb rubs it over the sensitive mushroom top. “Mhm.”
He bucks his hips up, desperate for you to touch him more. You take your hand away to shove his hips back down. “Be patient.” You sit up with the blankets over your shoulders. You spread his legs apart enough so you could sit in between them. You yank his pants off half-way, keeping them at his thighs.
His orbs grow darker by the sight of you on your knees before him. Even though you're clothed up you are the only one to affect him this way.
“What do you want?” You ask, your fingers dancing around his skin. “Take your shirt off. Please.” He mewls in a soft tone. “Then I’ll be cold.” Your bottom lip puckers out as you give him puppy-dog eyes. “I need to see them, they’re so beautiful.” He begs, his hand going down to his dick, using your spit to pump up and down. “If that’s what my boyfriend wants. I guess I can make some sacrifices.” You take off your sweater along with the tank top that was underneath. Flaunting your breasts.
“Stop touching yourself.” You prod aside his wrist replacing it back with your palm once again. Stroking his cock while leaning over to pronounce your boobs out. “I was supposed to b-e warming- shit- warming you up.” He stammers, grabbing at your left tit, massaging it gently. “This is warming me up.” You giggle, laying a kiss on the cockhead. He squeezes his eyes shut as your tongue kitten licks him.
Your hand is still kneading at the base. “I- ohmygooodd.” He groans. “Use your mouth.” He runs a hand on top of your hair, grasping at it. “Not very good manners.” You glance up at him. He holds a breath. “Please use your mouth pretty girl. Please.” He whines like a dog, rutting his hips up only to be knocked back down. “Patience, Ekko.” Your voice was soft but stern.
You’ve never acted like this before, it was new to him. He was normally in control. “Fuck, okay, okay.” He throws his arm over his eyes. You snigger, sticking your tongue out. You smack his cock on it repeatedly until popping it between your lips. Hollowing out your cheeks, sucking on his tip.
You lower your head until your nose hits his pelvic region. His happy trail tickles you ever so slightly. You go back up then continue at a leisurely state. Frustrating him ridiculously. “[Name] please stop messing with me. I need more.” He tugs at your hair. “Mmmmhmmm?” Your noises pleasuring him. “I’m going to fuck your throat if you don’t do something.” He tells you through gritted teeth.
The thought of him facefucking you aroused you. You felt the wetness in between your thighs even through all your clothes. You move your heel underneath your cunt. Pressing your butt down to feel the friction as you bob your head up and down on your boyfriend's thick cock.
Now being more mindful of his needs. The slurping sounds with a mix of occasional gags. You hold onto the top of his thighs as you get faster. Ekko’s toes curling from your skills. He felt like he was about to cum at any moment. His abs tightening, flexing just for you.
“[Name], pretty girl. I- oh fuckfuckfuck… I’m close.” Once again his pelvis went up. You weren’t expecting it causing your upper torso to contract as you gag. You lift up, his dick falling against his stomach. The saliva and pre-cum dribbling down your chin. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll be better. I promise.” He implores, his hands wandering on your chest down to your stomach.
“Fuck my throat.” You vocalise, sounding raspy. “A-are you sure? You don’t have to do it because I mentioned it.” He double checks and you smile, pulling forward by his shirt kissing him. Your spit and his own liquid smudges across his mouth.
You drop him back down on the pillows. He plants his feet down on the bed, lifting himself up a tiny bit and you put your mouth back on his dick. “You ready?” He bites his lip, your eyes look up at him. Your cheeks rise, making you seem like you’re squinting to show that you’re smiling. You give him a thumbs up. Both of his hands go to your head.
He thrusts up into your muzzle, starting off tender you wink at him then his hips begin to accelerate. You hold onto his legs for support. His hands pushing you down as far as you can take him.
“I’m going to cum! Fu-uuuuck!” He keeps the quick pace. Your pussy spasms at his moans and whimpers he made. “I love you so much, pretty girl. So so so much.” He breathes heavily. “Gonna let me spill into your throat? Swallow it like a good, beautiful girl that you are?” He questions you and you hum out. Slightly nodding your head. “Fuck, that’s my girl.”
His cock convulses, his tip bruising your uvula. “Ohhh, love you, love you , love…” His voice gets cut off as he cums, his mouth hanging open with no noise coming out. His seed spurting down your throat as your nose pressed against his skin. He restrains you in place until his balls are completely empty. He roughly drops down and you swallow everything before coughing to catch your breath.
His dick lays limp and his face looks fucked out. “Hope you know I’m not done with you.” You smirk, grabbing his soft cock and he whines, attempting to push you away. “Too sensitive, pretty girl.” He complains. “Mmm I’m still cold though.”
He tiredly rubs his face realizing how long of a night he was about to have.
#arcane smut#arcane spoilers#arcane x reader#arcane league of legends#arcane meta#arcane#arcane s2#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane season 2#ekko x reader#ekko arcane#ekko league of legends#ekko#ekko lol#ekko smut#ekko x you#ekko x fem reader#smut#fireflies#vander arcane#vander#silco#vi x caitlyn#vi league of legends#vi arcane#powder and vi#jinx#warwick#x reader
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If its possible could you write about how Vendetta Leon is knackered and wants some release after the team has won the day, he come home to the reader but even though th reader wants him bad, she denies him and makes him shower. (hes very stinky but doesn't realise) The reader then teases him while hes in the shower until he buckles and cant take it anymore, taking control of the reader and ramming her out of frustration ^~^ Thanky <3
Yes!...we all know Leon would smell the worst after a mission with the amount of sewage he runs around in. I rambled so have a one shot!
Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Alcoholism, Multiple orgasms, Doggy style, Rough Sex, Frustration, Overstimulation, Choking, Bruising, Spanking, Cum eating,
He was so fed up with everything today. Training was tough after he skipped it for so long. The last mission he went on with Chris changed his outlook on life. The events made him realize the small beer belly he had obtained needed to go if he was going to survive anything again. His shirt was sticking to him in such an uncomfortable way and he was practically rushing out of the door to get changed. Leon didn't even make it out the Gym door when he was then called for a mission briefing, giving him no time to change or refresh. Begrudgingly he walked back towards the office room, spending the next few hours marinating in the sweaty fabric. He didn't care at this point, his thoughts were just so desperate to get home.
It was late by the time he got in, his duffle bag thumped to the floor as he entered. A huge sigh left his lips as he finally sagged on the dining room chair to take off his shoes. It was then that he saw you, cooking in the kitchen wearing only his shirt. He probably should have been more concerned with how fast his dick rose at the sight but now he had quit drinking he found his dick actually worked properly now. Your sex life has been revived, enjoying nothing more than feeling his cock buried deep inside you every night. He watched as you moved around the kitchen, it was almost perverted making the situation just that more exciting for him. You didn't hear him come in, your headphones were too loud, and he wondered what you were listening to as you swayed your hips like that. Your ass gets exposed ever so slightly each time you circled them showing off your little pink undies.
His hand rubbed up his length through his sweat pants, the grey fabric exposing the size of his erection in a way that would make your knees weak...if only you turned around though. Leon eventually caved, his feet moving towards your space. He felt you jolt in his arms as they circled you, his mop of hair brushing against your neck as he kissed it. You sighed into him, finally, he was home. You turned in his arms smiling at him as you removed your headphones. "Someone seems happy to see me" you joked, your fingers brushing against the bulge that pressed against you. Leon only hummed in response; his mouth returning to the pulse point on your neck, his teeth grazing and nibbling at it. It was only then the smell of him assaulted your nose.
Your nose crinkled up as you turned your head away. You giggled at his pout, of course, he was aware of how he smelt but he didn't think your body was outwardly rejecting him like this. His fingers grabbed at your waist holding you close to him, preventing your escape. "I don't smell that bad" he mumbled, resting his chin on top of your head. You tried to be polite understanding his still fragile state. Leon had come a long way in the past few months but he was still sensitive. Your fingers combed through the whisps of hair at the nape of his neck, scraping the scalp slightly causing a soft moan to escape his lips. "If you take a shower for me then I'll be open to whatever you want" you whispered in a sultry tone. You smiled as his cock twitched against your stomach, bringing his lips in for a kiss. You could feel his tension leave, whatever happened in his day you were now determined to make him forget. "Fine" he groaned, stepping away from you and making his way towards the bathroom.
What he didn't expect was for you to follow, he tried to sneak glances over his shoulders at your movements. Silently hoping for you to follow him into the bathroom and he would finally free his frustrations. However, you turned into the bedroom, humming to yourself as you complete whatever task you were doing.
The water did little to wash away his frustrations of the day, his back still felt tense, and his shoulders were still stiff aching with his growing muscles. Leon looked down at the swirling drain before groaning at the sight of his hard cock, twitching amongst the shower stream. He was so desperate to touch you, to find out where you had run off to. Leon didn't have to look very far, however. A gasp left his lips when your figure stood in the dim bathroom light. Your body was decorated in the most beautiful lace, the suit left nothing to the imagination as he saw every single part of you. Your nipples perked and ready for his attention, to suck on pathetically like he did almost every night. A low growl left his lips as you walked towards the shower screen, the fog on the glass blurred his view faster than he could wipe it away. You smiled at him, such a sweet innocent smile one he always adored; but your eyes told a different story. Your pupils were blown out wide with lust as they flicked towards his throbbing length, tracing the length of the veins that were so prominent. Leon wanted to cave and touch himself under the heat of your gaze, have you watched and seen what you neglected by making him shower. But with you in that lace bodysuit, standing there waiting for him to get out, it was much more tempting. "How's the shower?" You asked him casually as your fingers began tracing the length of your sides. You watched with a small smirk as his eyes lit up and followed them. "It's...it's good, almost...done" he panted. You could see his Pre-cum dribble out from his tip. The substance getting washed away as fast as it appeared -what a waste.
"Do you feel relaxed?" You asked him teasingly. That question caused him to scowl, drawing his attention away from you to his dick. He looked at it as it twitched in the shower stream deciding how to proceed. How could he relax when you looked like that? When your soft velvet walls were his new addiction. The sound of your footsteps drew his attention back to you, he watched as you walked away back to the bedroom he assumed. Your perfect ass begging him to follow you.
You heard him follow, the water dripping from him like he was some swamp monster as he followed you. He entered the bedroom to the sight of you bent over perfectly, your ass waving him hello. He growled as he approached, his frustrations finally snapping as he saw the crotchless area. Your entrance weeping and ready for him. You felt the pressure of his fingertips gripping at your hips alerting you to his presence as his knees pushed against your thighs spreading them further. Leon let out another groan as his tip pressed against your tight hole, gathering your arousal. Mixing it with his own like making some sort of sick potion. He couldn't ignore your pleas for more, not when you were always taking such good care of him. After all, you brought his deepest desires back.
He tried to imagine what it would be like to fuck you with his brain all fuzzy with alcohol, he barely remembered it. Leon supposed it was a good sign but deep down he knew it never felt like this. His tip entered first, the sensation causing his cock to twitch as he stretched you. He grinned at your fingers curling into the fabric as he bottomed out. Leon's thrusts were slow at first, enjoying seeing his length exit your walls covered in your arousal. His fingers grasped at the flesh of your ass the sting of his grip began making you whimper. "Naughty girl to tease me like that" He whispered in your ear, his body pressing your own into the mattress as he leaned over to talk. Your breath shook as his palm began to soothe the swell of your ass. "You know what naughty girls get right?" he teased. His hand was flat against your ass cheeks waiting for your reply. "Right?" his voice lowered in a warning. You nodded, another whimper leaving your lips. "Th-they get punished" you stuttered out, you could already feel the ghost of the sting from the last time he did this. The first slap is always the worst, the base of the pain. It was always the taster of his strength for the night.
You gasped as it hit, pain blossoming over your cheeks. You must have riled him up because he didn't even soothe the pain before landing another one. You could tell it wasn't going to last long with the way his hips jolted every time you squirmed away from the pain. Grunts left his lips as he soon gripped your hips. His pelvis slammed against the redness that spread across your ass bringing back the sting. Your moans were guttural as he was relentless. Leon hated being so rough with you, but today wasn't his day, and he wanted to finish it off on a high note. He was always vocal during sex but now his words were actually audible instead of the drunken rambling that left his lips. Each swear that he grunted out made you whimper, each nickname made your walls flutter around him. His hand wrapped around the front of your neck lifting your body so your back was against his chest. His cock brushed against your cervix at this angle. You could feel his chest heave with his breaths, his growls ghosting the shell of your ear.
His hands squeezed around your neck, making sure to avoid your windpipe. Your breath puffed out in small whimpers as your brain became fuzzy. He could feel your walls begin to milk him with your unexpected orgasm, your body collapsing against his as he continued to thrust himself into you. "So fucking good baby" he groaned. Your body fell against the bed again, drool spilling over the sheets. "Going to cum so deep" he whispered, "so deep"
You felt his warmth flood inside you, his load coating your walls as he buried himself. Your name fell from his lips as he chanted it like some form of prayer. "Such a greedy pussy, is she needy for more already?" he teased as he felt your walls clench around his soft cock. "Please.."You begged. You weren't even sure what you were begging for, your mind was blissed out but you could still feel the needy throb of your clit from the lack of attention he gave it. Leon chuckled as he pulled himself out of you. If you weren't so drunk on pleasure you would have cringed at how pathetic the whine that left your lips at the empty feeling. You spun around to face him, his hair dishevelled from the shower. Leon's eyes were blown out wide as he grinned at you, his gaze almost predatory. His abs highlighted with the fairy lights you instited decorated the bedroom. Leon stalked towards you, pressing your body against the bed again. You crawled up the sheets away from him and his body eventually towered over you.
You expected him to kiss you until his cock hardened again, but he had that hungry look in his eye. Leon lowered himself to your thighs, kissing down the inner side of them leaving small bite marks like a trail. His nose bumped against your clit as he lapped up the evidence of himself where he was spilling from you. Your eyes widened in shock, it wasn't the first time Leon had gone down on you. He's done it many times but not after he...
"What...what are you doing?" You whimper. Your fingers brushed through the strands of his hair, tugging him closer and he continued to lick and suck. Leon didn't respond but you felt his chuckle on your clit. The vibrations cause your grip to tighten. "It tastes unreal baby, both of us mixed like this"
He crawled above you again, his now hard cock filling you to the brim again as he distracted you with kisses you. You whimpered as his tongue swirled with yours, the taste of cum filling your own mouth. Your cock drunk brain was truly lost, too many senses overpowered by him as he began to thrust again. The round was shorter than the last and he felt his balls tighten almost immediately. You looked like a goddess underneath him. The lace hugs your frame, cupping your breasts perfectly making the bounce with each thrust. You moaned loudly as you felt him finish again, the familiar throb of his cock as it deposited his load again. Yours shattered through you shortly after as his fingers circled your clit. This time the both of you were satisfied, the day lost in the back of your minds as you stared at each other. Leon left briefly to get a damp cloth, cleaning you up gently making sure not to touch anything too sensitive. His arms pulled you close against him; holding you close as you appreciated the comfortable silence.
#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy imagine
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“How much do you hate me today, Gem?” Pearl asked, feeling the smile on her face as she adjusted her seat on the camel.
“A lot!” Gem snapped.
“Dang it, I was hoping to trick you,” Pearl said blithely, “and you’d say something like- you know-”
“Do you know why, though?”
Taken aback by the anger in her friend’s voice, Pearl asked, “What?”
“I have reasons today,” Gem said, signalling for the camel to start walking across the bridge. Pearl wrapped her arms around Gem’s waist, and for the first time in all the times she’d done it, it felt uncomfortable. “I’ve reflected.”
“You’ve reflected?”
“Yeah!” Gem said, her voice surprisingly thick with hurt. “Do you remember last session, when you thought you put your eye into the portal?”
“We weren’t even there for-” Pearl began to protest, but Gem cut her off by stopping the camel and yanking Pearl’s arms off of her waist. She twisted around to face Pearl.
“Did you even look me in the face during our- our murder camel…happenings?” Gem’s eyebrows twitched further down as she messed up her speech.
Pearl wanted to laugh at Gem tripping over her words, but the look on Gem’s face squashed any positive feelings she could’ve had. “Y-yeah! It was such a good time, it was-”
“And you remember what my face looked like?” Gem pointed with a trembling hand to her left eye.
Pearl felt herself quickly falling into the hole she’d dug, and searched desperately for what Gem could be referring to. “Yeah!” She remembered Gem’s clothes turning yellow and then red, and…a left arm the color of the void, and… “Oh. I forgot about…”
“Okay.” Blinking rapidly, Gem turned around and began the camel’s walk again, faster this time. “And then other than that, you 2v1 me! And you- you know about holding grudges across seasons. You know about that.”
Now Pearl felt her own anger flare up. “I didn’t 2v1 you Gem, let’s put this straight. I let Scar do it, I watched.” She searched for something to hold onto that wasn’t Gem, and settled for the not-incredibly-optimal grip on the camel’s sides. She felt herself closing her eyes as the camel climbed up a hill.
“No no no. I remember specifically-”
“I hit you once!” Pearl raised her voice, heated with indignance.
“Hitting me once!” Gem raised her voice in return. “That’s enough! That set your dogs on me!”
“It was one little basic whack!”
“It was not a regen-based season!”
“And I sat the dogs down, Gem! You had so many hearts!”
“Once was enough!”
Pearl quickly calmed herself, trying to salvage the conversation. “You were gonna live. You were fine. You see? Look at that. We’re thriving.”
Pearl could hear the breath Gem took. She could hear the shakiness in it. “I’m just saying,” Gem said, turning the camel back to her base, “I’ll forgive you if you actually 1v1v1v-whatever me. And not 2v1.”
Pearl felt a laugh slip out, and she could see Gem’s arms tense in response. “Well at that point, that seems like we’re trying to kill each other. That seems against the point, no?”
“Yeah, we have to die, Pearl, that’s the game.”
Pearl’s heart was racing as she stumbled over her words in response to that… morbid opinion. “That’s the- that’s not- that’s- that means I can only- that means there’s only resolution after the season ends, is what you’re saying!”
The exasperation in Gem’s voice made Pearl’s throat tighten. “We can die six times! We have time to die!”
“I can’t die six times!” Did Gem not care about Pearl’s life at all? Just for the sake of some morally correct 1v1?
“You can die once!”
Pearl reached for something to lighten the situation. She hated fighting, especially with Gem. In an attempt to make a joke, she went for, “1v1 me right now, Gem.” Terrible joke.
Gem appeared to be taking it seriously, stopping the camel to think. “Right now? … Alright.”
“Not really!” Pearl laughed nervously. “You were too- you were too all into that, you were like, ‘yeah let’s- let’s do it! Yeah, let’s get it!’”
“I mean…” Gem’s voice was calm and serious. Pearl never liked when it did that. “It’s high stakes for you, but I mean, we’ve PvP’d on Hermitcraft, it’s about 50/50 who wins and who loses.”
Pearl spluttered, and everything inside her was screaming run away. So she climbed off the camel and walked away. “Fine. I’m gonna go get on Impulse’s camel, because Impulse actually treats me right.” What was she saying?
“What, you don’t want to 1v1 me? You’re scared?” Gem called after her. Pearl turned around. Where a playful smirk would’ve usually been, a disappointed frown sat instead. “If you win, you go green!”
“I know.” Pearl looked at her feet. She couldn’t help the pit in her stomach whenever she imagined fighting Gem, imagined the disappointed look on Scott and Cleo’s faces if she would lose and go red. Looking up and forcing cheer into her tone, she continued, “But I’d rather catch you when you’re unawares!”
Gem’s face twisted. “You’re still not honorable!”
“I’m very honorable!” Pearl protested. “It’s all part of traps!”
Gem flipped her camel around and walked away. “You don’t want it.”
Want what? Her forgiveness? “I do!” Pearl ran after the camel. “Gem?”
But she kept walking.
Gem sank to the floor inside her rebuilt barn, leaning her back against the stone. She missed the wood. But nothing good on this server ever stayed, did it? That's how it worked. Things burn, and then get replaced by something else.
Even if Pearl didn't, Gem knew that. She knew to cherish the precious things. And even if Pearl couldn't, Gem could remember everything clearly. Very clearly. She remembered opening the portal.
She’d been digging down forever, ender eye clutched in her left hand. She’d built bridges above the silverfish to avoid them, she’d pictured the awe in everyone’s faces when she told them everything.
Gem lay on her front and reached down toward the portal. She stretched her arm as far as she could, and finally, finally set the eye where it belonged. There was a deep rumble, either heard or felt or both, and the lava beneath her slowly turned into a black abyss, with distant hints of green.
“I did it,” she breathed. “I did it! I opened the End gateway!”
Then her hand turned numb.
It started at the palm but quickly spread to her fingertips, then up to her wrist. It was a cold, empty shock. It felt like it was dissolving every bit of her, right down to her bones, until there was nothing but air left. She tried to pull away, but her hand was stuck on the eye. All she could do was watch as the void crawled up her arm, onto her shoulder, up her neck and into her eye. Her skin turned pale and purplish, then that same black abyss crept in, slowly spreading up and up until it reached her eye and she felt pain, burning pain.
Screaming, she wrenched her hand away from the eye and covered her face. Only her right eye was crying.
It was probably only a few minutes she sat there, holding her face and rocking back and forth, but when the burning finally went away, it felt like hours. She looked down at her shaking hand. It was cold and lifeless and alien.
No one would be in awe anymore. They’d be scared.
But Gem had known someone who wasn’t scared. Pearl had treated her kindly, complimenting the “new look” and reveling in Gem’s tales of danger. Pearl was loyal to her. At least at the start.
Even if it meant everything to Gem that Pearl was by her side, apparently it meant nothing to Pearl. Gem meant nothing to Pearl.
So Gem sat lost in her thoughts, rubbing her left eye over and over again, until she heard Joel shriek for her help. Giving Pearl no more thought, she grabbed her sword and ran outside.
#trying something new#pearlescentmoon#life series#geminitay#shiny duo#wild life spoilers#wild life smp#life series spoilers
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At his mercy - hj
KINKTOBER DAY 24, REQ. BY anon
~"hongjoong tortures y/n by strapping a vibrator onto her pussy and tying her limbs, causing y/n to squirm and stop for him to make it stop. hongjoong edges y/n by turning the vibrator off everytime she's abt to come."
pairing: dom!hongjoong x sub fem!reader
genre: 18+, bdsm au
summary: one broken rule of his would bring you on the edge of being desperate and begging.. for him
wc: 3.2k
warnings: bdsm au, dom/sub relationship, harsh dom!hj, whiny sub!reader, use of toys (vibrator), lots of edging, denied orgasms, crying (out of overstim), slight dacryphilia, use of restraints (he uses soft scarfs to tie her up, and the toy), kissing, neck holding, neck grabbing, slight choking, clit stim, some praising here and there, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, will edit later.
Author's Note: I love writing bdsm style fics sm... y all can see one of my personal kinks ups🧍♀️it s all good tho, I love conveying my thoughts whenever I write bdsm typa fics 🤭 I'm so so into the edging thing I'm going insane... anyways, anon, enjoy !!! 🤗💖
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.
The soft glow of twilight filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across the room that felt heavier than usual. You had been home for barely an hour, your shoulders aching from the weight of the day, when the realization hit you like a jolt of lightning: your phone was dead.
You froze mid-step, the memory of Hongjoong’s firm words echoing in your mind.
“Keep your phone on, *always.*”
It wasn’t a casual request. In your relationship—both romantic and deeply rooted in the careful dynamics of trust and power—it was one of the fundamental rules. His rules weren’t arbitrary; they were meticulously crafted with your safety and the trust you had placed in him at their core.
But today had been a whirlwind. You’d been caught up in errands, lost track of time, and when your phone had died, you’d brushed it off. *I’ll charge it when I get home,* you’d thought. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.
Now, as you stared at the lifeless device in your hand, your stomach sank. You knew Hongjoong would already be home, and you could practically feel the weight of his disapproval before even stepping into the bedroom.
A deep breath did little to steady your nerves as you opened the door. The sight of him, seated on the edge of the bed, confirmed your fears. He was dressed impeccably, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, a casual elegance that only heightened the intensity of his presence. His head lifted as the door clicked shut behind you, his dark eyes locking onto yours.
“You’re late,” he said evenly, his voice calm but sharp enough to send a shiver down your spine.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted, your hands tightening around your dead phone. “I—”
He raised a hand, cutting you off. “Spare me the excuses.”
He stood, his movements deliberate, and the sheer authority radiating from him made your pulse quicken. As your Dom, Hongjoong’s presence carried an unspoken weight—a mixture of love, control, and safety wrapped in his unwavering confidence. Tonight, though, you could feel the shift in the air, the tension crackling between you like an unstruck match.
“You were unreachable for hours,” he said, his tone quieter now, but no less commanding. He crossed the room with slow, measured steps, stopping just in front of you. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” he agreed, tilting his head slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You weren’t. And because of that, you’ve broken one of my rules.”
The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest. Hongjoong wasn’t one to lose control or raise his voice; his power lay in his restraint, the deliberate way he handled every situation. You knew how much effort he put into crafting your dynamic, ensuring that every boundary, every rule, was there to protect and guide you.
“Tell me,” he continued, his voice deceptively soft, “what happens when you break the rules?”
You hesitated, heat rising to your cheeks. “There are consequences.”
“Good girl,” he said, nodding once. “Then you understand why we’re here.”
A thrill of nervous anticipation coursed through you, your body already responding to the subtle shift in his demeanor. This was no longer just about the broken rule or the dead phone. This was about his rule—rebuilding it, reaffirming it, and reminding you of the structure you had both agreed to.
“Strip,” he said, stepping back just enough to give you space.
You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for the hem of your shirt. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no flicker of doubt. His command wasn’t rooted in anger but in the unshakable confidence that this was what you both needed.
Piece by piece, you removed your clothing, the vulnerability of the act heightening your awareness of every movement, every breath. When you were finally bare before him, he gestured toward the bed.
“Sit.”
You obeyed, perching on the edge of the mattress, your heart racing as he reached into the bedside drawer. He pulled out the familiar length of silk—a scarf he often used during scenes—and the sight of it made your stomach flutter.
“Hands,” he instructed, his voice firm but not unkind.
You lifted your hands, palms up, and he moved closer, the scent of his cologne washing over you as he carefully bound your wrists. The fabric was cool against your skin, the knot secure but not too tight—a reminder of the balance he always maintained between control and care.
Once your wrists were bound, he stepped back, his eyes raking over you with an intensity that left you breathless.
“Do you know why this is happening?” he asked, his voice low and steady.
“Because I broke the rules,” you replied softly, your cheeks flushing under his gaze.
“More than that,” he said, leaning in slightly, his presence overwhelming in the best way. “Because you forgot what it means to me. To let me protect you.”
The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, your heart clenching at the weight of his words.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the sincerity in your voice evident.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “I know you are,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “But sorry isn’t enough. You need to feel this—so you don’t forget.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, anticipation thrumming through your veins as he stepped back. Slowly, he climbed onto the bed, his movements deliberate and precise. He positioned himself above you, his hands braced on either side of your head, and the sheer proximity of him made it hard to breathe.
“You trust me,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent heat coursing through your body.
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
A small, satisfied smile tugged at his lips. “Good.”
He leaned down, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your temple—a gesture that was both comforting and charged with electricity. Then, without another word, he began his work.
His hands moved with practiced ease, tracing a slow, deliberate path over your body. Every touch was calculated, designed to heighten your awareness and leave you yearning for more.
Hongjoong’s eyes gleamed with something primal as he pulled back slightly, his fingers trailing down the curve of your waist, leaving a path of fire in their wake. Without breaking eye contact, he reached back into the drawer. The faint hum of anticipation in the room grew sharper as he retrieved a small, sleek vibrator.
The sight of it made your breath hitch. He held it up between you, tilting it slightly, the light catching its smooth surface. His thumb hovered over the button, and with a soft click, it came to life—a low, teasing buzz that made your body tighten in response.
“This,” he said, his voice dripping with authority, “is for me to control. Just like you.”
A shiver coursed through you as he climbed off the bed, placing the vibrator down for a moment. He grabbed another length of silk, this one thicker, from the drawer and leaned down to secure your ankles to the bedposts. His touch was firm but careful, ensuring the bonds were snug but not uncomfortable. The vulnerability of having your legs spread and tied left you quivering.
With your wrists already secured above you and your legs now restrained, Hongjoong stepped back to admire his work. His gaze traveled over your body, appreciation and dominance mingling in his eyes.
“Look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Completely at my mercy.”
You couldn’t hold his gaze, your cheeks heating as you squirmed under his scrutiny. But the sound of the vibrator clicking to a higher setting snapped your attention back to him.
“Eyes on me,” he ordered, his tone sharp enough to cut through your haze.
“Yes, sir,” you stammered, your voice shaky.
He smirked, the corners of his mouth lifting in that way that always left you breathless. Slowly, he climbed back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he positioned himself between your thighs.
“I’m going to teach you,” he said, running the vibrator along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, just shy of where you wanted it most. “Teach you to listen. To remember who you belong to.”
The vibrations against your skin were maddening, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. Your hips instinctively arched toward him, but he pressed a firm hand to your stomach, holding you in place.
“Uh-uh,” he said with a click of his tongue. “You’ll take what I give you. Nothing more.”
“Yes, sir,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the hum of the vibrator.
The heat in his gaze intensified as he trailed the toy higher, stopping just at the apex of your thighs. The anticipation was unbearable, your body trembling as he kept you on the edge, never quite giving you what you craved.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of power. “Now let’s see how well you can obey.”
The sound of the vibrator’s low hum filled the room as Hongjoong continued his torment, letting it hover just close enough to make your body tighten, only to pull it away at the last second. His precision was maddening, each pass over your skin deliberate and cruel in its restraint. You could feel your orgasm building—heat pooling deep within you, your breaths turning ragged—but just as you neared that peak, he stopped.
A desperate whimper escaped your lips as your body ached for the release he denied you.
“Ah, ah,” Hongjoong tutted, clearly relishing your reaction. His smirk was wicked as he trailed the toy lightly along your stomach, far from where you wanted it. “Did I give you permission for that?”
“N-no, sir,” you stammered, your voice shaky.
“Then why are you acting like you have control here?” he teased, his tone both sharp and teasing as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You don’t. Not tonight.”
Your body trembled as he brought the vibrator back to your clit, the sensations sharp and all-consuming. This time, he pressed it against it with just enough pressure to send your nerves spiraling toward that edge again. Your breaths quickened, your hips bucking against the restraints as pleasure surged through you.
But once again, just as you were about to topple over the edge, he pulled back, switching the vibrator off with a casual click.
“No!” The protest slipped out before you could stop it, your voice thick with desperation. Tears of frustration pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you pulled weakly against the silk holding you in place.
Hongjoong chuckled, low and rich, clearly enjoying your unraveling. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement as he brushed his fingers gently along your jawline, tipping your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “You’re really not in a position to argue, are you?”
You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, and his smirk deepened. “Since you seem to need a reminder of your place…”
He reached into the drawer again and pulled out a silk ribbon. Your heart raced as he carefully tied the vibrator against your inner thigh, angling it perfectly over your clit, where every nerve felt raw and exposed. He secured it with meticulous care, ensuring it stayed in place.
“There,” he said, flicking the toy back on to a steady, teasing hum. It wasn’t enough to overwhelm you, but the constant stimulation was maddening, leaving you squirming in your bonds.
You let out a soft cry of frustration, your body both desperate for relief and overwhelmed by the unrelenting sensation.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his tone mockingly sweet as he knelt on the bed, watching you with that same unshakable confidence.
“Please,” you whispered, tears now slipping down your cheeks as the frustration became unbearable.
“Please, what?” he prompted, his voice softer now, almost tender.
“Please, sir,” you choked out, your voice trembling.
He leaned down, brushing a thumb across your cheek to catch a tear. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Desperate. Completely at my mercy.”
The hum of the vibrator against you was relentless, the teasing just enough to keep you teetering on the brink without ever letting you fall. Hongjoong’s eyes burned with intensity as he watched you writhe beneath him, the control firmly in his hands.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on,” he said, his voice a mixture of warning and promise, leaving no doubt that he was far from finished.
Hongjoong climbed over you, his presence overwhelming as he hovered above, his knees bracketing your hips. His face was close—so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. The intensity in his gaze was magnetic, holding you captive as he leaned in slowly. When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was firm yet teasing, a tantalizing mix of control and tenderness.
His fingers trailed down your sides, deliberate and unhurried, until they found your thighs. He pressed his palms into the soft flesh, his touch both grounding and electrifying. Without breaking the kiss, his hand drifted lower, brushing over the vibrator tied against you. He pressed it gently against you, just enough to amplify the sensation.
A soft, breathless moan escaped your lips, and Hongjoong broke the kiss just long enough to chuckle—a low, amused sound that sent shivers down your spine.
“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Every little touch drives you wild, doesn’t it?”
You nodded weakly, your body trembling beneath him. His fingers resumed their journey, tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When he reached the vibrator again, he paused, applying just enough pressure to make you arch into him.
“Easy,” he murmured, his tone both commanding and soothing. His touch softened, his fingers now trailing upward with featherlight strokes that left you aching for more.
When his hand finally settled over your wet cunt, he didn’t rush. Instead, he teased, tracing slow, deliberate circles on your clit, each movement precise and controlled. You gasped at the sensation, your body straining against the bonds as he continued his careful exploration.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice firm but intimate, as if sharing a secret meant only for you. His fingers continued their torment, each movement designed to draw you closer to the edge without letting you fall.
“Say it,” he commanded softly, his fingers pausing just enough to make you desperate for their return.
“I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
A satisfied smile spread across his lips as he leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, but no less consuming. His touch remained relentless, a masterful mix of restraint and precision, leaving you completely at his mercy in the best possible way.
Hongjoong’s fingers moved in circles, his touch relentless yet measured, keeping you balanced right on the edge of release. The vibrator’s steady hum against you combined with the pressure of his skilled fingers made your entire body tense, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.
You felt it coming—the moment your body would give in, the flood of the orgasm you so desperately needed. But just as you reached the brink, Hongjoong’s hand stilled, and he pulled the vibrator away ever so slightly, leaving you hanging in exquisite frustration.
A cry of anguish escaped your lips, tears of desperation welling up and spilling over as your body trembled beneath him. Your head fell back against the pillow, your breaths coming in shaky gasps as you looked up at him, pleading silently with your tear-filled eyes.
Hongjoong’s expression softened, but his smirk remained. He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb catching a stray tear on your cheek.
“Poor thing,” he murmured, his voice rich with mock sympathy. “You’re falling apart, aren’t you?”
You nodded, your voice breaking as you whispered, “Please.”
“Please, what?” he asked, his tone deceptively gentle as he tilted his head, his gaze boring into yours. “Say it. Use your words. Tell me exactly what you want.”
Your cheeks burned with humiliation, but the desperation in your chest outweighed any shyness. “Please, sir,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please let me…”
Hongjoong chuckled, the sound dark and intoxicating. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, leaning closer so his lips brushed against your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You’re going to have to beg better than that.”
Tears slipped freely down your cheeks as you swallowed your pride, your voice trembling. “Please, sir, I need it. I can’t take it anymore. Please, let me come. I’ll do anything.”
His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something deeper, more genuine. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You did so well for me.”
With a flick of his wrist, he brought the vibrator back against you, his fingers resuming their work, but this time his touch was more focused, more demanding. The build-up was immediate, the sensations overwhelming as he guided you closer and closer to your orgasm.
“Cum, darling… isn't that what you've been asking for?” he said softly, his tone commanding but tender.
The tension in your body snapped, and your irgasm hit you like a tidal force, your body shaking as you cried out in relief. Hongjoong didn’t stop, his fingers and the vibrator easing you through the intensity, grounding you as you came down from the high.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his free hand smoothing over your thigh in a comforting gesture. “Breathe, mhm… this is only the start..”
As your breaths began to steady, the room still thick with the remnants of your pleasure, Hongjoong shifted. The comforting caress on your thigh was replaced by a firm grip on your chin, gently tilting your face to meet his gaze. His dark, smoldering eyes held yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip.
“I hope you’re not under the impression that I’m satisfied yet,” he said, his voice low and velvety, carrying a teasing edge. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath warm and deliberate. “We’re just getting started.”
Before you could respond, his hand slid to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it—not enough to hurt, just enough to command your attention, to make you feel utterly claimed. The weight of his touch sent a new wave of heat through your body, an unspoken promise hanging in the air between you.
“Next time,” he said, his voice a blend of a growl and a purr, “if you push me like that, you won’t get to cum so easily. Do you understand me?” He tilted his head slightly, studying your expression as if savoring the moment.
You swallowed hard, the mix of his authority and care electrifying. When you managed to nod, his thumb brushed softly against your jaw, a stark contrast to the intensity of his grip.
“Good,” he murmured, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. He released your neck, his touch trailing down to your shoulder, and leaned back just enough to take in your flushed, breathless state.
“Now,” he continued, his tone playful yet resolute, “we’ve got a long way to go, darling. I’d suggest you keep up… for your sake.”
NETWORKS:
@blossomnet
@illusionnet
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @cursed-eastern ?, I can't find your acc 😞
#ateez fanfic#illusionnet#blossomnet#ateez x reader#mingi s dimples masterlist#ateez fic#ateez x y/n#fanfic#smut fic#ateez#ateez smut#smut#hongjoong x y/n#ateez hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong#hongjoong dom
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Tsundere Character Prompts
Nearly passing out every time Character B does something cute
Constantly angry with themselves for never being forward or clear enough
Struggling to give Character B a compliment of any kind and instead giving vague responses or dismissing them entirely
Character A is trying everything in their power not to lay their head onto Character B's lap
^^^ Or imagine having Character B sit on Character A's lap
Desperately wanting comforting hugs or giving comforting hugs to B but being reduced to half-baked attempts at comforting.
Panicking at the thought of sharing straws or spoons
Unconsciously touching Character B's thigh while driving and then pulling away, only to end up touching them again instinctively
Wanting to hold Character B's hands, but it's so hard, and what if it's just as soft as they expected? What if Character B noticed how clammy their palms felt?
Wanting to make their favourite food as a kind gesture but not wanting to come off as too caring
Wishing for even the slightest chance Character B could ask them to take a shower together but knowing that it could never happen
Unintentionally staring/checking Character B out
Following everywhere they go and missing them greatly when they're not in their line of sight
Worrying every second, even when they're gone for just a few minutes longer
Their heart is always pounding at every close proximity
Dismissing their daydreams with Character B as childish thoughts
Overthinking scenarios in their head
Silently saying, "I love you," half hoping they didn't hear it and half hoping they did and won't mention it
Wishing that Character B would kiss them soon
When Character B says they will do Character A a favour, they instantly think of something affectionate
Wanting 110% of Character B's attention all the time
Getting jealous when Character B smiles at someone else because Character A wants that to be reserved for them
Pretending not to be affected by the way Character B calls their name
Hiding the blush on their face from Character B
Saying they would never do something for Character B and then doing it anyway
Warding off any other potential love interests with just their presence
Character A looking at other couples doing activities like feeding each other or slow dancing
Becoming Character B's partner for assignments/jobs that require two people
Instantly freezing when Character B sleeps on their shoulder
^^^Or sharing a bed and trying not touch or think about the way Character B is breathing so calmly and safely in their presence
^^^Or leaning in to listen to Character B as they talk in their sleep
Overhearing and eavesdropping on Character B talking with Character C about them
Feigning disinterest when Character B brings them a gift and then mumbling a "thank you"
Disciplining Character B for not preparing properly for the weather and giving them their gloves/jacket/scarf/umbrella
Cleaning Character B's wounds/taking care of them when B is sick because "they can't do it themselves/are so uselss"
Pulling Character B out of dangerous situations but not because they were worried, only because it's stupid
Mouthing off other characters that talk down about Character B
Genuinely feeling happy when it's Character B that's worried sick about them instead
Thinking that Character B looks cute when they cry but never says it out loud
Pretending to be annoyed at supervising or guarding Character B but secretly overjoyed at having an excuse to be alone with them now
Accidentally saying something possesive
FOR MORE LIKE THIS: Unrequited/One-side Pining/Forbidden Romance Master List Portal
~~~
MASTERLIST
#enemies to lovers#fluff prompt#jealousy prompts#writing prompt#writing prompts#prompts#otp prompts#otp#imagine your otp#pining prompts#unrequited feelings#unrequited pining#unreciprocated love#romance prompts#writing
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Irene X Reader: Stupid Human
shakespeare would be dead on the floor if he saw how good this was~@seullovesme
Tags: Tsundere, Genie Irene(she just reached through the screen and slapped me for calling her a genie)
There were 3 things you knew were absolute in this world, the chapter you did not study will be tested, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, and that if you made it out of this alive, Jimin was going to kill you. With a sack of potatoes, all the while telling you that she had told you so. “Stop walking home at night yourself.” She’d insist. You nodded in faux agreement, mostly to placate your best friend. Listen, Taxis are expensive, and you’d gotten self defence training, not just that, you kept a pepper spray on you, an item that Jimin seemed to have in spades. See, it’ll be fine.
Except, yeah. No. The so-called universe clearly had other ideas, because here you were, hands tied, a thick, uncomfortable blindfold over your eyes, and the scent of incense hanging around you like a curse. The blindfold ripped off with a tug, and there they were: three figures in dark robes, all with candles, strange charms, and enough assorted witchy knick knacks to look like a shitty halloween costume. Bound by a chalk-drawn circle on the cold stone floor, you realised the truth. You’d been kidnapped. By a cult.
Of course you had.
"I know, I know," you muttered under your breath, almost amused despite it all. Of course they were a cult. That’s just your luck. “Honestly, blame the author. Cliche little shit.”
“Hey, umm, fellas, can we talk this out?” You look around, trying desperately to get one of the cultists to look at you, but to no avail. “Let us begin.” The one most clad in regalia spoke, the other two nodding, as they began to chant softly.
You look at them in light amusement, despite the predicament you found yourself in. This all seemed ridiculous. This stuff didn’t exist. As if the world was on an agenda to prove you wrong today, from a small amulet lying on the table emerged a smoky figure, a cute but seemingly sinister smile on her face as her arms stayed close. Seeing the figure emerge, the three cultists immediately bowed down. “Who awakens me from my slumber.” The deep and husky voice of the figure boomed, her voice as smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous. “Oh exalted one, we bring you this fine sacrifice as an offering for your great power.” The main cultist spoke.
Sacrifice. Yeah, that word did not sound good. Panicking, your mind began to whir, neurons firing, trying as hard to think of something, a way to get out of this. “Wait! May I speak?” You quickly say, forcing the words from your mouth. All three cultists glared at you like they wished they’d gagged you sooner, one of them even moving to push you down. But with a snap of her fingers, the spirit stilled them, her gaze settling on you, curious and amused. “Speak.” “Oh exalted one, I bring you these 3 cultists as an offering for your great power.” You quickly say. There was a beat where you weren’t sure she’d respond at all, and then, she laughed—a low, husky chuckle that filled the room. “I accept.” She said, fingers snapping once again, the 3 cultists disappearing, the ropes around your wrist going free.
The spirit stood with her arms crossed, watching you with a gaze that was sharp but softened at the edges. She tilted her head, considering you, and then gave a faint, almost reluctant sigh, as if this entire situation had been some unnecessary hassle she couldn’t quite bring herself to resent.
“Well,” she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully, “I guess you did offer those cultists. So, I owe you.” She paused, the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. “Three wishes. Don’t get too excited.” Her tone was cool, but there was a flicker in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or the barest hint of a smile she hadn’t meant to let slip. Her arms dropped from their crossed position, one hand falling casually to her side, as if relaxing just enough to test the waters.
“So,” she continued, studying you with a mix of amusement and intrigue, “what’s it going to be? ”
You raised an eyebrow. “A little excited, aren’t we?”
A tiny snort escaped her, and she gave you a look somewhere between exasperated and amused. “It’s my duty, I don’t have a choice… but I’ll admit, you’re… a little more interesting than most of the mortals who’ve tried summoning me before.”
You couldn’t help but grin, sensing you were maybe, just maybe, getting through her walls. “Guess that’s something, right?”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “So,” she said again, her voice a touch less frosty, “let’s hear it. What’s your first wish?”
You raised your hands, giving her a quick shake of your head. “Look, Genie woman-” “I’m not a genie! And call me Irene.’ Irene said almost indignantly
“Alright, Irene, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t actually need any wishes,” you said, surprised at your own words even as they came out. “I mean, sure, it’d be nice to have a few things, but I don’t want to get into any of this business.”
Her eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Excuse me?” she replied, her voice cool but laced with an edge of irritation. “You dragged me out of slumber, and now you’re… passing on your wishes?”
You shrugged, feeling strangely casual despite her intense stare. “In my defence, I didn’t wake you, the cultists did. And in the end, you got the cultists; I got to walk out of this situation without a scratch. So, no harm, no foul?”
She let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not that simple.” Her voice softened, but you could still hear the exasperation there. “Without the wishes, I’ll be… bound to you.” Her cheeks flushed a faint pink, which she tried to hide by looking anywhere but at you. “Until your wishes are granted, I can’t sever the connection. It’s… an inconvenient rule.”
You paused, processing that, and she gave you an indignant look.
“Before you get any ridiculous ideas,” she added, her tone defensive, “this isn’t some arrangement I chose. It’s an ancient pact, one I’m obligated to follow.” She shifted uncomfortably, almost as if she were embarrassed to admit it. “So, if you have any decency, you’ll make your three wishes and let me be on my way.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise it was that serious,” you replied, trying not to smile at how put out she seemed.
“Can’t I wish for your freedom?”
“For the last time, I’m not a genie!” Irene said, her indignation now in full force
“So if I don’t make these wishes… you’re stuck with me?”
Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. “Unfortunately, yes. And trust me, the last thing I need is to spend my time… babysitting a stupid human.”
There was a faint, grudging warmth to her tone, like she was trying to convince herself she didn’t mind either way. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t entirely against the idea. But the flash of vulnerability was gone in an instant, and she folded her arms, looking at you with an expectant glare.
“Well, give me some time to think about it, is that okay?” You ask with a sheepish smile.
“Fine, but you’d better not make me wait.” Irene grunted, rolling her eyes before she snapped her fingers, her form turning to mist, absorbed into a spiral, flying towards the amulet.
You stared at the amulet dumbfoundedly, scratching your head. This was going to be a tough sell in therapy
“Finally here to make your first wish?” Irene grumbled as she appeared in a swirl of smoky tendrils. But when she took in the sight of you—cross-legged in a bright blue monster onesie, surrounded by enough snacks to feed a village, her confident smirk immediately faltered.
Her gaze swept over the scene, and she raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “What is all this? Some weird human ritual? Or are you trying to summon a spirit with all this… junk food?”
You rolled your eyes, catching the way her lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “No, no, nothing like that. Jimin was supposed to come over for a sleepover, but she got called into work at the last minute. And… Well, the food was for her. She eats like a bear.”
Irene huffed, crossing her arms with a look of supreme indifference. “And that concerns me why?”
“Well…” you looked up at her, trying out your best pleading eyes. “I was hoping maybe you’d help me out with it?”
“Help you out?” She arched an eyebrow, her look turning sceptical. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to waste one of your precious wishes… on food?”
You nodded, trying not to laugh. “It’s my wish, right? So technically, I can do whatever I want with it?”
She crossed her arms, lips pursed, clearly torn between annoyance and disbelief. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, snapping her fingers. “But don’t blame me if you regret it.”
With a flash, her elaborate robes transformed into soft, striped pyjamas in muted blues and browns, her hair pulled back in a neat braid, with a scrunchie around her wrist. She looked down, then let out an irritated huff, tugging at her sleeves as if they were a personal affront.
“Um… what exactly are you doing?” you asked, biting back a laugh.
She scowled, face flushing slightly. “Look, you weren’t specific, okay? So this is what you get. I’m ‘dealing with the food,’ just like you asked.” She added the last part in a mumble, like she was thoroughly unimpressed with herself, her indignation less befitting of a supernatural power and more fit of a teenage girl stuck at home, eliciting a chuckle from you
“Uh-huh. Well… have a seat,” you said, patting the couch beside you. “And, for the record, you look amazing.”
Irene went rigid, her cheeks taking on a noticeable pink hue as she shot you a glare. “D-Don’t say dumb things like that! It’s not like I dressed up to impress you, okay? Besides, I’m a supernatural being, of course I look amazing” she snapped, but despite her protest, she slowly sat down beside you, folding her arms and turning her face away.
You just chuckled, hitting play on the remote.
A few minutes into the movie, you noticed Irene sneaking little glances at the screen. She was practically rolling her eyes at every line, but you could tell she was getting into it, her lips starting to move along to the songs.
“Seriously? Aladdin?” she asked, voice laced with mock disdain. “I’m not a genie, you know.”
“Hey, I just wanted a way to explain you to Jimin. Aladdin was the closest thing I could think of.”
“Ugh, whatever.” Irene groaned, lying down as the movie started. As the movie played, you couldn’t help but chuckle. Irene wasn’t fooling anybody. She was acting like she’d rather be anywhere but here, but she was the one humming the songs, the one bobbing her head. She seemed almost human. “What’re you looking at, stupid human.” She mumbled the last part, blushing, clearly realising that she had been caught. “Nothing, nothing, you just look really cute like that.” “Shut up!” Irene grumbled
When the movie finally ended, she cleared her throat, fixing you with a glare that was more defensive than angry. “Alright, I have to know—why would you waste a wish on something this ridiculous? You have all this power, and you just… use it on snacks?” She sounded incredulous, as if your choice was somehow a personal offence to her.
You shrugged, the humour fading from your voice. “I don’t know… I just think this kind of power doesn’t belong in anyone’s hands. ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ right? I don’t think anyone ever did the world any good by trying to play god.” “That’s….new. Most of the people who used my powers just used it for their own selfish gain, but you’re different.” Irene pondered “Well, like you said, I’m an interesting mortal.” You quipped with a smile. “Stupid, but an interesting mortal.” Irene grunted. “So how does this go, does the wish just consume itself.” “Well, no, you need to say, my first wish has been granted.” Irene explains. “Alright, umm, my first wish has been granted.” You say, causing Irene to slip back into the amulet
You’d been pacing your room for nearly an hour, turning over your next wish in your mind. You were conflicted on this one. On the one hand, you didn't want to make wishes that were just made to benefit you, but…on the other hand, how much harm could this wish be? And this got Irene one step closer to being unbound from you anyways
In a swirl of smoke, Irene appeared, arms crossed, her gaze flicking over you with that ever-present mixture of annoyance and exasperation. "Another wish already?" she drawled, her voice dripping with boredom. "This had better be important. I’m busy."
You winced a little at her tone but pressed on, determined. “I—uh—I’ve got my high school reunion coming up, and, well... I don’t have a date. I was wondering if you could, you know, help out? Just, like, make sure I don’t show up looking like a total disaster?”
Irene raised an eyebrow, not a hint of sympathy in her expression. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your date? For a whole night? To keep up the charade for your high school buddies?" She scoffed, her voice thick with mockery. "Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes."
You shifted, feeling the familiar sting of her words, but held your ground. "I don’t need anything fancy. Just someone who won’t make me look like I’m still living in the basement."
Irene rolled her eyes. “Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes,” she muttered, but her gaze softened just a touch. With a deep sigh, she snapped her fingers, and in a swirl of light, her usual flowing robes were replaced by an elegant black dress, sleek and understated yet somehow breathtaking. Her hair was swept up in a loose, casual style, a few strands framing her face, and there was a faint flush on her cheeks as she looked you over with barely-concealed irritation.
“Wait,” you stammered, staring at her in surprise. “You… you’re my date?”
Irene scoffed, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her shoulder. “What? You thought I’d conjure up some random person and just send you off? That’s not how this works,” she said, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m your wish, so I’m the one going.”
You struggled to keep a smile off your face, but she must have caught the glimmer of excitement in your eyes because she immediately turned away, feigning exasperation. “Don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show,” she muttered.
The reunion venue buzzed with familiar faces and old classmates, some of whom you hadn’t seen since graduation. The moment you walked in with Irene on your arm, heads turned. Her cool, detached beauty drew immediate attention, and whispers trailed after you as people cast curious glances in your direction.
Irene’s expression remained perfectly unreadable, though you noticed her eyes darting around, subtly assessing the room with a hint of wariness. You leaned toward her, whispering, “See? You’re already the most intimidating person here.”
She huffed, but a small, self-satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Hardly a challenge, considering,” she murmured.
The reunion was in full swing, the laughter and chatter echoing around the grand ballroom as old friends and classmates reunited. Irene stood beside you, her presence commanding attention in a way that almost made you forget your nerves. She was cool and collected, her eyes scanning the room as if nothing could faze her.
“Everything okay?” you asked, still a little self-conscious as people gave you curious looks when they saw Irene on your arm. It was hard to ignore the whispers floating around.
Irene turned to you, her expression unreadable but softening just a fraction. “Why wouldn’t it be?” she asked, her tone casual but with a hint of something else—a little amusement at your discomfort. "People just like to gawk at anything different, don’t worry about it."
You nodded, unsure how to respond. It was obvious that she didn’t care about the stares. She never did. But you weren’t quite as unaffected. Still, the fact that she was here with you helped ease the tension. In her presence, with her arm looped around yours, the room didn’t feel so intimidating.
The evening passed by in a blur, with Irene at your side, casually deflecting people’s attempts to engage with her with a polite but icy tone. Her reactions ranged from curt one-liners to complete disinterest, but something about the way she carried herself made everyone respect the boundaries she set. They knew better than to push.
You caught up with some old friends, and every now and then, Irene would lean in close, offering a dry comment or two. When someone mentioned an awkward moment from high school, she would casually toss out a sarcastic remark that left the group laughing in spite of themselves. It felt almost like she was part of the conversation, even though her presence remained otherworldly.
It was when the slow music started playing, and the floor cleared a little, that Irene surprised you. She didn’t flinch when you tentatively extended your hand, as if she hadn’t even thought about it. “You’re going to make me look bad, aren’t you?” she said with a raised eyebrow, her lips curling just slightly.
You couldn’t tell whether she was teasing or genuinely reluctant. But either way, you didn’t have the courage to let the moment pass. You gently took her hand, feeling the softness of her skin and the coolness of her touch. “Just for the night,” you said quietly.
Irene nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Fine,” she muttered, but you saw the look in her eyes. There was something real there, a quiet warmth that surprised you. Something that said she didn’t mind it as much as she let on.
The music drifted through the room, the melody slow and soft, and you both swayed to it with an ease you didn’t expect. It wasn’t a grand, ballroom dance—just the quiet movements of two people trying to blend in.
Irene’s grip on your hand was firm but relaxed, her other hand lightly resting on your shoulder. The faintest glow of the room’s dim lights made the curves of her face softer than usual, and for the first time, she didn’t look like she was trying to escape.
“You’re not half-bad at this,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper as her gaze met yours. The teasing edge was gone, replaced by something else—something almost vulnerable. “You should get used to it. People will start thinking we’re a real couple.”
You tried not to let her words throw you off guard, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Is that so?” you teased, feeling a little emboldened. “Would that bother you?”
For a split second, Irene’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—something deeper, more genuine—before she straightened, letting the mask fall back into place. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said firmly, though there was a softness to her voice that didn’t quite match the sharpness of her words. “This is all for show.”
You wanted to laugh but held it in, not wanting to break the fragile moment between you, though you had to admit, you’d been enjoying yourself, and hearing that it was all for show hurt a little. Instead, you just nodded. "Of course," you murmured, your eyes lingering on hers. She quickly averted her gaze, but there was still a softness there that hadn’t been there before.
For the next few moments, you both continued to sway together, caught in the rhythm of the music. You could feel the tension between you, the space between what she wanted to be and what she was allowing herself to feel.
And then, just as the song was about to end, Irene squeezed your hand—a fleeting touch that almost felt like an accidental intimacy. Her gaze met yours for the briefest moment, a look that spoke volumes, but she quickly pulled away, her cool, aloof demeanour returning in full force.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she muttered again, but the glimmer of a smile was still present, hidden behind her usual sarcasm.
You watched her for a moment, noting the pink in her cheeks that she was desperately trying to ignore. “Thanks, Irene,” you said, your voice soft but sincere.
She rolled her eyes and took a step back. “Whatever. You’re welcome.” Irene said, unable to contain a blush as she looked away
The rest of the night passed in a similar rhythm. Well, you hoped it would, but clearly not.
As the night wore on, the buzz of the reunion picked up, and more familiar faces came and went. The wine flowed freely, and the tension between past and present felt less like a weight and more like a strange mix of nostalgia and regret. You were starting to relax, enjoying the unexpected camaraderie of having Irene by your side. It had become clear she wasn’t just tolerating the evening anymore—she was leaning into it, in her own subtle way. Her usual sarcastic quips were still there, but they had a bit more warmth, a bit more playfulness.
It was then that the moment you’d been dreading—Jackson—finally made his appearance.
You hadn’t seen him in years, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to spot you. His face twisted into that familiar smug grin, the one you’d spent high school trying to avoid. He sauntered over, drink in hand, his eyes immediately darting to Irene. It only took him a moment to size her up, his grin widening into something far too pleased with himself.
“Well, well, well…” He looked at you first, then back at Irene, his gaze lingering longer than it should have. “What do we have here? I didn’t think you’d ever get a date for this thing, but, well, it seems you’ve outdone yourself.”
You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the old sting was still there, the reminder of high school’s worst moments rising to the surface. He wasn’t just an ass, he was an expert ass—a master at making people feel small.
Irene, however, didn’t flinch. Her eyes flicked over him, cool as ever. But the way her lips twisted, just slightly, into something that wasn’t exactly amusing caught you off guard. She wasn’t about to let him ruin your night. She wasn’t about to let anyone do that.
“So,” Jackson continued, taking a step closer to Irene with a suggestive grin, “did you get roped into this too, or are you the one with the real taste in men? Because, I gotta say” He motioned toward you, still grinning like he had the upper hand. “You could do a lot better.”
You tensed, but before you could say anything, Irene stepped in, her voice suddenly colder than the temperature of the room.
“Excuse me?” she cut in sharply, her tone dangerously sweet. “You think I’m here because I was roped into it?” She looked him over like she was inspecting a particularly repulsive insect. “No, darling, I’m here because I wanted to be. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone like you if I were paid to. And trust me,” she added, her voice turning slightly mocking, “I can do better than someone who thinks their charm is something worth showing off.”
The asshole’s smug expression faltered just slightly, his confidence wavering. “You can’t seriously think—” he began, but Irene cut him off again, her voice sharper than a whip.
“Oh, but I do.” Her eyes flashed with an icy intensity that made him take a step back. “But here’s the thing, buddy—you might want to look in a mirror and reconsider who’s really the joke here.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile that made people feel small. “I’m here, because I want to be here, and there is no one else I’d rather be here with. You talk a big game, but you’re just a sad sack, at least Y/N is a good person, someone who doesn’t make me want to smoothen out my ears with sandpaper”
Jackson blinked, clearly stunned by her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but Irene didn’t give him a chance. Her voice, calm and controlled, broke through the tension like a blade.
“If you’re really trying to flirt with me,” she continued, “you might want to step up your game. You might have been cute back in high school, still I doubt it, never had a thing for bullies with a Napoleon complex bigger than their little peanuts, but now? Well, it’s clearer now that nothing about you’s changed. You’re still the same pathetic little boy trying to prove something that doesn’t matter.”
His face turned a shade of red you couldn’t quite describe. He opened his mouth again, stammering, but no words came out. Finally, he turned on his heel, muttering something under his breath before practically running away.
You stood there, blinking in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. That had been… unexpected. Irene was usually so detached, so indifferent, that seeing her actually stand up for you—really stand up for you—felt different
She stood there for a moment, arms crossed, her usual confident mask still in place. But when she turned to you, her eyes softened for just a moment, concern, care, maybe even a tinge of affection, all wrapped in one, just enough that you could see the faintest glimmer of something like… pride?
“You’re not a complete disaster, you know,” she said quietly, looking at you as if she were trying to convince herself more than anything. “That guy was pathetic, but you? You’ve got more going for you than you think.”
You blinked, not entirely sure how to respond. “Thanks,” you said after a beat, your voice soft but full of sincerity.
She rolled her eyes, the typical Irene sarcasm flooding back. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to let him run his mouth. Someone had to shut him down.” Her gaze flickered briefly to the spot where Jackson had since retreated, and she smirked. “Honestly, he deserved it. Can’t believe people like that still exist.”
You could see her trying to hide the fact that she did care, that she hadn’t just defended you out of duty. But the way her gaze lingered on you for a second too long gave it away.
“Let’s just get out of here,” she muttered, her hand brushing yours as she moved to leave the crowd behind. But before you could walk away, she glanced over her shoulder. “And don’t think for one second I’m doing this for you. I’m only here because I’m bored. Remember that.”
Just as you were about to leave, however, you heard a soft song began to play. “May I have one last dance?” You asked, bowing your head as you extended your hand to Irene. Irene didn’t immediately respond, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss you or make some sharp comment. But when you looked at her, you saw something else—something subtle in the way she relaxed, just a fraction. She sighed, eyes flickering from you to the floor and back again, and for the briefest moment, you saw that tiny spark of warmth she usually hid so well.
“Don’t make me regret this. You’re lucky I like this song.” she muttered, her voice soft but steady.
With a small, almost imperceptible smile, you led her to the centre of the ballroom. The music swelled around you, filling the space with a gentle rhythm as the two of you settled into the dance. The movement was slow, effortless—just the two of you, caught in a moment of quiet connection. Irene’s hand rested lightly on your shoulder, and hers in your hand was warm, soft, but her fingers still held that quiet, guarded strength that reminded you who she was.
Her gaze stayed just slightly averted, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. It wasn’t something you were used to seeing, and it made your heart skip a beat. You’d seen her icy exterior so many times, but here, in the privacy of this slow dance, there was something else—something less perfect, less guarded.
“I didn’t expect you to dance like this,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft, the teasing edge in her tone barely there. “I thought you'd be a disaster.”
You chuckled quietly, not wanting to break the delicate silence between you. “Well, I’m full of surprises.”
Her lips quirked, so subtle it was barely noticeable, like a wind in the storm. "I guess so." She shifted slightly, her other hand resting gently on your arm, her movements smooth, as though she was slowly letting go of her usual defenses. For a moment, you felt her melt into you, and it made your chest tighten with something you couldn’t quite place.
The song continued, and the two of you swayed in perfect rhythm, as though you’d done this a hundred times before. You couldn’t help but notice how close you were now, how every little movement seemed to draw her nearer. The smell of her perfume lingered in the air, warm and comforting, and you couldn’t resist stealing glances at her—just a quick look at the way her face softened in the quiet of the dance.
Irene’s gaze flickered toward the ground for a second, but when she looked back at you, it was with a rare, almost hesitant warmth. "I don't do this," she said, her voice almost a whisper.
“Hmm?” You hum in curiosity as you continue to sway.
"Letting people close. But…"
"But?" you prodded gently, your heart thumping just a little faster.
Her eyes met yours again, and for the first time all night, you saw something different—a quiet acceptance, not of you, but of the moment. “But it’s not the worst thing.” She looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink now, but you caught a smile tugging at her lips.
You both danced in silence for a while, the music winding down, the world outside of the ballroom forgotten. Her hand tightened around yours, just a fraction, as if to hold on to this fleeting moment, a moment she’d never admit to wanting.
As the final notes of the song drifted into silence, you weren’t ready to let go. So, you didn’t. You held her for just a little longer, letting the stillness of the moment settle between you. Her breath was steady, her chest rising and falling against yours, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed for a second. It felt peaceful—almost perfect.
But then, of course, Irene cleared her throat, breaking the moment with her usual sharpness. “Well, that wasn’t terrible,” she said, voice laced with sarcasm, though her tone was quieter than usual. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not turning into some sentimental fool just because you managed to stand on your feet without tripping.”
You smiled at the playful edge in her voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Her lips twitched, the faintest sign of a smile, but she quickly masked it again. “Good. Let’s get out of here before you start thinking I actually enjoyed that.” But there was something in her voice—a softness beneath the teasing—that told you more than her words ever could.
As the two of you pulled away from the dance floor, the night seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a quiet understanding between you. Irene, despite all the walls she’d built around herself, had let a little bit of them fall tonight. And in that moment, with her hand still resting lightly in yours, you knew this was more than just a dance. It was the start of something new—something neither of you had expected, but both of you felt deep down.
But Irene? She would never say it. She simply looked at you, rolling her eyes, and muttered, "I’m not a damsel in distress, so don’t go getting any ideas about saving me, okay?"
You grinned, your heart full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. “I’m not,” you replied, but the unspoken truth hung between you two—there was something here, something that went beyond what either of you would admit.
“Well, the night’s over.” Irene said, her usual matter of fact tone, but you sensed a lower, almost unspoken tone to her voice, as if she was almost disappointed. “Yeah, I guess it is. My second wish is granted.” You say, Irene vanishing back into the amulet. You rest your hand on the amulet, allowing your hand to linger. You hadn’t wanted Irene’s power, you still didn’t, but you had come to value her presence, and this night had just left you wanting for more. Too bad you only had one more wish left.
You let out a long sigh, stepping out of the shop with your groceries clutched in your hands. You had to make your last wish soon. It was always part of the plan—the last step, the one you had promised yourself to fulfil. It’s what you wanted at first, and it’s what Irene had said she wanted, too. But now that the moment had come, the hesitation clung to you like a weight around your chest.
You couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t right. After everything that had happened between you two—after everything you had gone through together—the idea of letting her go felt more and more like an impossible choice. She might’ve wanted her freedom, sure, but now that it was so close, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the finality of it.
Your footsteps echoed in the cool evening air as you walked, the weight of the decision pressing in. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed the soft sound of footsteps trailing behind you. It was too quiet, too deliberate. Your heart skipped a beat as a cold shiver ran down your spine.
You glanced over your shoulder. Figures. Three men, walking too close. They emerged from the shadows with knowing grins, their eyes narrowing as they stared at your bags.
"Hey, you!" one of them shouted, his voice thick with menace as he sized you up. "Looks like you’ve got some nice bags there. Why don’t you hand ‘em over?"
You groaned. “Of course, first a kidnapping, then a mugging. The writer needs to get some new material.”
The leader stepped forward, his face twisting into a grin that made your stomach flip. "Shut it. Empty your pockets. Now."
The second man—tall, broad-shouldered—took a step closer, and the third, a wiry figure, pulled out a knife. The metal gleamed menacingly in the dim light, sending a chill down your spine. Your pulse quickened. This was bad. So bad.
You needed a way out. Anything.
Panic clawed at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you reached up to your chest, hand on the amulet resting on your neck.
The air around you shifted. A swirl of light filled the street, and the men froze, confusion flashing across their faces. In the blink of an eye, Irene appeared, stepping into the scene with effortless grace. Her presence was like ice—cool, calculating, and impossibly beautiful. She didn’t even look at the men as she turned her sharp gaze toward them, her eyes narrowing in distaste.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Her voice was low, smooth, but underneath it was something far more dangerous. She didn’t move, only stood still, her cold stare cutting through the group.
The leader’s bravado faltered just for a second, but it was enough. He took a step back, eyes wide with fear. "What the hell are you supposed to be? A freak?" he spat, trying to sound tough despite the growing unease in his voice.
Irene didn’t even blink. Instead, she flicked her wrist. The knife in the leader’s hand was torn from his grip with a flick of her fingers, sent spinning across the pavement, clattering into the street. His face twisted with shock, eyes widening as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.
"Didn’t see that coming, did you?" Irene’s voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with sarcasm. She turned her attention to the second man without missing a beat. Before he could react, Irene was on him, her hand wrapping around his wrist in an iron grip. With one fluid motion, she twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him face-first into the pavement with brutal force.
The third man, seeing the others go down so easily, hesitated, his eyes darting around as if looking for a way out. But Irene was quicker. She raised a hand, and in an instant, the man was yanked off his feet, his body jerking toward her like a puppet on invisible strings. He flailed uselessly as she pulled him closer, her expression unchanging.
"Running?" Irene’s voice was dark with amusement. "How pathetic."
She lifted her hand higher, and with a final flick, she sent him crashing into a nearby dumpster with a sickening thud. The man groaned, crumpled against the metal, barely conscious but too dazed to fight back.
The leader was the last one standing, his face pale, eyes flicking nervously between Irene and his downed companions. Irene stepped forward, her gaze steady and dangerous. "You’re lucky I’m in a good mood," she said, her voice smooth and cold, "but you do not threaten my human."
The man stumbled backward, his legs trembling. But Irene didn’t let him get far. With a swift movement, she grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground with a terrifying ease.
"Get out of here before I make you regret it," she warned, her voice colder than the air around you.
The man’s pride shattered as he scrambled to his feet, his resolve gone. He turned and fled, leaving his comrades behind, their groans the only sounds as they slowly regained their senses. Irene let him go, her shoulders relaxed but her eyes never leaving the spot where he had disappeared.
You stood there, still processing what had just happened. Your heart was hammering, your legs shaking slightly, but the adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off. You couldn’t believe what you’d just witnessed..
Irene turned to you, her usual cool mask still in place, but there was something different in her eyes. Something almost... soft. "I... I don’t know what to say. You just... saved me."
Her eyes flickered over to you, and she let out a sigh, her usual nonchalance slipping back into place. "Don’t get all sentimental," she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her. "It’s not like I did it for you."
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, a nervous sound, but a laugh all the same. The tension was melting away, replaced by a strange warmth. "I know. But still, thanks. You really... protected me."
Irene’s gaze flickered away, and her cheeks flushed just a little. "It’s not a big deal," she grumbled, the sharpness in her voice fading. "Just don’t go getting yourself mugged again. You’re a pain in the ass to deal with."
You chuckled softly, stepping closer. "I’ll try not to. Promise."
She shot you a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, you better."
The two of you walked in silence for a moment, the street around you quiet once again. The world felt a little less heavy now, your body still shaking but comforted by her presence.
You glanced down at your Amulet, then back at Irene. "I guess this is it, huh? My last wish?"
Irene froze. For a moment, she looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her eyes widened, and she blinked, mouth parting as if she was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she stammered, the icy coolness in her voice replaced by something... far less composed.
"That wasn’t a wish!" She snapped, her face flushed with embarrassment. "That was—! You—you didn’t wish for that! You’re—!"
You raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by her reaction. "But this is what you wanted, Irene. You're free now, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?"
Irene opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. Her hands clenched, and in a flash, she bolted—vanishing into the amulet in a swirl of light, leaving you standing there, confused and left alone.
The apartment door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing in your ears as you stood there, groceries still in hand. It had been weeks since you’d last seen your family, and you hadn’t been looking forward to this visit, but you couldn’t keep avoiding them. Not anymore. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you walked further into the dimly lit hallway of your childhood home. You had enough on your mind as it was, Irene having refused to emerge from the amulet
The place was just as you remembered—dusty corners, faded pictures on the walls, the smell of old furniture and lingering tension. You could feel it in the air before you even heard the voices.
"...You always do this, Mom. It's the same damn thing every time!" Your younger brother, Noah, yelled from the living room. "You never listen to anything I say. You just—"
"Noah, I told you, this isn’t a damn democracy! I’m the one who pays the bills here!" Your mother’s voice was strident, her temper rising as usual.
"You think you’re the only one who has problems, huh? You think it’s easy to get by in this house when everyone expects me to be some perfect kid?" Noah snapped back, his voice laced with bitterness.
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, dragging you back into memories you had long buried. The fighting, the yelling, the way they always pulled you into the middle of it. You’d spent your whole childhood walking on eggshells, trying to soothe the chaos, but it never worked. It never made them stop.
And now here you are again. As much as you tried to get away, you always ended up back here. The familiar pain crept back into your chest, an old wound reopening, threatening to consume you.
You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away.
In the living room, your father’s voice cut through the argument, trying to mediate, but it was no use. His calm was as fragile as glass, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to shatter it. “Both of you need to calm down! This isn’t helping anyone!” he shouted, but no one listened.
You stood at the edge of the hallway, the tension in the air pressing down on you like a heavy weight. You wanted to go in. You wanted to be the peacekeeper, the one who fixed everything like you always did. But you could already feel the familiar panic creeping in, the suffocating sense of being caught in the middle. It was too much. It had always been too much.
You froze, the words slamming into you like a wave. The argument wasn’t directed at you, but it didn’t matter. The noise—sharp, accusatory, rising and overlapping—burrowed into your chest. It dragged you back, pulling you under, to a time you couldn’t seem to forget.
The yelling. The anger. The helplessness.
When you were a kid, this was the soundtrack to your life. You’d spent countless nights hiding under your blankets, trembling as the walls seemed to shake with their shouting. Even now, as an adult, the sound didn’t just echo in your ears—it lived in your body, burrowing into the spaces where fear and pain had carved out homes long ago.
The voices got louder, blending into one another until they were an unintelligible roar. Your hands tightened around the bag of groceries until the plastic handles bit into your skin, but it wasn’t enough to ground you. Your chest tightened, your breaths coming too fast, too shallow. The hallway around you seemed to blur, the walls closing in as your heart pounded harder, faster.
You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.
And the worst part? You knew this would happen. You knew. But you came anyway, thinking this time would be different. It never was.
Your vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling hot and heavy down your cheeks. A small, broken sound escaped your lips—a plea, a whisper of desperation, before clutching your chest.
The words barely left your mouth before the air in front of you shifted. A sudden rush of cold, then a plume of silvery smoke, shimmering faintly in the dim light. From the haze, Irene emerged.
Her figure was unmistakable, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. The usual air of superiority that clung to her was still there, but it softened the moment her gaze landed on you. Her expression changed instantly, the sharp edges melting into something you’d rarely seen from her—concern.
“What’s happening?” Irene asked, her voice low but urgent as she crouched down in front of you. Her hands hovered near your shoulders, unsure for a moment, before finally settling there. “Hey. Look at me. What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but shake your head as the tears kept falling. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat, and you gasped, clutching at your chest.
“Shit,” Irene muttered, her voice tinged with panic. “Okay, okay. Listen to me. You’re safe. You’re okay. Just breathe. Can you do that for me? In through your nose. That’s it.”
Her hands moved to cup your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears streaking your cheeks. Her touch was cool, grounding, and her voice—low, steady—cut through the noise in your head like a lifeline.
“Focus on me,” she urged, her tone softer now. “Whatever’s happening out there doesn’t matter. None of it can touch you. You’re here. You’re with me. Just keep breathing.”
Bit by bit, the tightness in your chest eased. Your sobs turned into shaky breaths, though your shoulders still trembled under her steady hands.
When you finally managed to meet her gaze, her usual sharpness was gone. The Irene looking at you now was softer, her eyes filled with something warmer, more protective.
“They were yelling again,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible. “It just—it reminded me of when I was a kid. I couldn’t stop it then, and I still can’t... I just...”
Irene’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering toward the muffled argument still raging in the living room. When she looked back at you, there was a quiet fury in her expression, like she’d burn the world down in an instant.
“You don’t have to stop it,” she said firmly. “You don’t have to fix it, or even deal with it. That’s not your job. And it’s sure as hell not worth tearing yourself apart over.”
She pulled you closer, her arm wrapping around you protectively. “Whatever this place took from you, it doesn’t get to keep taking. Not while I’m here.”
You leaned into her, the warmth of her words wrapping around you as much as her presence. For a long moment, you just let her hold you, her steady breaths anchoring you.
When the tension in your body finally eased, you pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze. “Irene...” you began, hesitating. “Why haven’t you taken my last wish yet? You just disappeared...”
Her expression softened, but only for a fleeting moment before she crossed her arms and glanced to the side, her cheeks faintly pink. “I—I didn’t disappear. I was... busy. Important genie things, you wouldn’t understand.”
Your brow furrowed. “Important genie things?”
“Yes. Very important,” she shot back, her tone defensive. “Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of moping around all day.”
You tilted your head, a small, teasing smile forming despite yourself. “Irene, you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”
Her blush deepened as she snapped, “Avoiding you? Don’t flatter yourself! Why would I avoid someone like you?” She turned her nose up, but the crack in her voice betrayed her.
“Then why?” you pressed gently, your gaze steady on her.
Irene hesitated, her sharp facade faltering as her eyes darted away again. She muttered something under her breath, too quiet for you to catch.
“What was that?”
“I said…” She huffed, her arms tightening over her chest as her blush spread down to her neck. “I didn’t want you to use up the wishes, okay? Are you happy now?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “You didn’t want me to use the wishes? But I thought you wanted to leave. To be done with humans. To be done with... me.”
Her eyes snapped back to yours, wide and flustered. “Wha—Why would you think that?! I never said that! Don’t just go putting words in my mouth, you idiot!”
Your grip on her forearm tightened, grounding her. “So you don’t want to leave?”
Irene froze, her lips pressing together before she let out a groan, dragging a hand through her hair. “Maybe—maybe it’s not so bad,” she admitted begrudgingly, her voice dropping to a mumble. “If it’s with you.”
The vulnerability in her tone caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the small, teasing smile that tugged at your lips. “Of course. I’m your human, aren’t I?”
Irene’s eyes widened before her blush turned scarlet. She immediately buried her face in her hands with a muffled, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you heard that.”
“I did,” you said, unable to suppress a light chuckle.
“Don’t you dare read into it!” Irene snapped, lowering her hands just enough to glare at you. Her face was still bright red, her pout far more endearing than intimidating. “I am not some lovesick little puppy, got it? I’m still an all-powerful genie, and you—y-you’re just a ridiculous human who happens to need a lot of supervision, that’s all!”
“Whatever you say,” you replied, your tone soft as you leaned closer.
Her breath hitched as you reached out, cupping her face and pulling her in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“W-What—” Irene spluttered, pulling back with a glare that was more flustered than furious. “What do you think you’re doing?! You can’t just—you can’t just go kissing me like that without warning!”
You grinned. “I thought you were all-powerful. Shouldn’t you have seen it coming?”
Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again as she struggled to find a retort. Finally, she turned away with an exaggerated huff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “Completely ridiculous.”
“Not bad for a stupid human, aren’t I?” You tease, hugging Irene tightly
Irene rolled her eyes, but by now, she could do little to stave off the smile on her face. Seungwan would laugh at her, of that she had no doubt, but you were her stupid human now. And she didn’t mind it.
#irene bae x reader#irene x reader#irene#irene red velvet#irene bae#red velvet irene#red velvet x reader#red velvet fic#red velvet scenarios#red velvet#kpop writing#kpop#kpop fluff#kpop idol x reader#kpop imagines#kpop gg#rd0265667#fluff
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r.e. with johnny banging one of his maids
what's the breaking point or final straw that makes the maid finally snap and make the decision to leave soap? or, maybe even the point just before the decision is made?
-- 📖
Omg my first anon who signs their name! Welcome! Enjoy this angsty piece! Following the revelation that she is not the only one Johnny sees in the duchy, she does her best to limit her time with him. The thought of him touching her makes her skin crawl, makes her stomach curdle over the memory of him holding the other maid so tightly to him (the way he held her, how many more are there-). However, she also knows she cannot avoid him entirely, cannot retreat fully as he is still her employer, a fact seared into the forefront of her mind now when it should have been when this all started. She tries not to show her discomfort when he leans into her space, as she can now smell the perfumes of other women on his skin, can see his plump mouth most likely having kissed another before coming to her. She wonders if he even bothered to wash himself between, or if the hands he touches her with are still coated in the consequences of his actions. There's no comfort in his concern over her, him spending more and more time as the days go by to coax her into telling him what's the matter, is someone bothering her? He'll make it all go away for his sweet little maid, his favorite. He winks as he says their inside joke; bile creeps up her throat at the knowledge the joke is on her and always has been. She just manages to kiss him, brushing off anything further with a variety of excuses: She isn't feeling well, there is so much she has to do, a guest is due shortly. She even uses the tried and true 'I am unclean' excuse, face flushed as she looks down, desperate for him to believe it even though the stress of the situation she has found herself in has put it off for the forseeable future. Every time she feels her heart lurch over the sight of him, her stomach lurches as well. It's a struggle for her to keep food down, constantly envisioning the man she loves with other women. The knowledge he would have to wed someone of his station had always loomed over her, the thought of him forsaking his reputation due to being in love with her a fantasy she only indulges in when she lays down for bed. These days the thought brings more cruelty than comfort, and it's resulted in her stumbling from bed to heave up the meager portion of dinner that she manages to eat. The other staff notice how there seems to be an air of illness about her, her face paler than before, eyes red-rimmed at times, the dazed look she gets when she thinks no one is watching. The cooks especially take note of it, see how she struggles to keep food down, how she picks at her plate unless it's the blandest of soup or a portion of fruit. The head cook, a stern woman who runs the kitchen efficiently and while putting the fear of God into those who test her, has rubbed her back alongside the head maid more times than not when she hangs her head in the toilet. "I swear lass, you heave more than an expecting mother. Duke MacTavish ought to call in the doctor and have you seen to already, before you waste away!" If her eyes weren't blinded by tears, they would be wide open in horror. The vomiting, the missed days, the sleeping... All caused by stress yes but... Is there anything more stressful than carrying a new life inside of you? Particularly one born of such circumstances? Her breathing picks up, the last of the bile coughed out while her mind races, the thought growing more and more sure as she thinks back to the days when she and Johnny had gone further than they ever should have. The best case scenario is people assuming she is a loose woman; a random unnamed man being the father and her child being a bastard. The possibility to spin it as her being taken advantage of by a man who was passing through town is there, not likely to work but still an option. The worst case though? The scandal of bearing a Duke's bastard, of having lain in her employer's bed? All of them would be ruined.
The head maid sends her to bed to ensure she doesn't get anyone else sick with whatever she has. She lays in her bed, hand shakily pressed over her stomach, watery eyes fixed on the ceiling while she bites her lip to keep from sobbing. She has to get out, even if there is no child inside her. Things have crossed a line and she's clawing at it to let her back on the other side. This was doomed from the start, and this needs to end before this becomes a choice she can't take back. There has been recent gossip of the Baron of the woods returning, of him needing new staff due to several of his retiring from age. No connections to Duke MacTavish, a place out of the eyes of society, a man who does not partake in the prodding of other's status. It appears she will need to find a way to visit the Baron's home discretely. Soon.
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SKZ Pack Chapter 13
Trigger Warnings: Stalking, swearing, mentions of MxM, mentions of smut, oral
Seven long days later eight tired wolves found themselves slowly going into hibernation after Y/N's long heat. Y/N didn't stop, she couldn't. She was frustrated, angry, emotional and ready to breed. She wanted to be bred but no one let her. Chan spent most of his time with her trying to wear her out but he did have to leave at times to make phone calls to make sure she was safe. According to the police, they didn't know who they were and there was nothing on the CCTV cameras either. The police suspected it was hacked into so Chan and Minho spent most of the days looking into it. Minho did help Y/N by supplying sweaty clothes and food but she was so desperate that Minho ended up cumming all over her clothes to give to her. It broke Minho's heart because he offered himself every second but she wouldn't take him nor Jisung which melted the wolves hearts. It made them feel special.
Jisung on the other hand risked eating her out and doing a lot of oral play with Changbin who helped fuck her when Chan and Hyunjin slept but they themselves ended up getting tired. Seungmin and Felix who experienced her neediness before seemed to have the longest streak out of the beta's but they too ended up in a pickle. Felix's whole entire body was marked and bruised but he didn't care, he wanted to be marked by his mate. Seungmin on the other hand had scratch marks on his ass. Hyunjin did stay but slept in between until he was needed. Hyunjin even slyly aroused her by kissing an innocent Felix. Felix, however was turned on by Hyunjin's taste, leaving him confused and almost forgetting his poor mate was thrashing around. Jeongin even came to help after Chan desperately needed him because they were all worn out. It was something the wolves had never experienced before and now they feared every month her heat would come.
By the time Y/N woke up she felt refreshed but confused. None of the wolves had gotten up and it was eight in the morning. Y/N decided she was going to make them all breakfast to apologise for her heat as she must have worked them all up. Even Seungmin and Hyunjin looked battered as they slept next to her all night. Seungmin had scratch marks and Hyunjin had an uncountable amount of love bites all over them. Y/N couldn't help but laugh as she thought about it while chopping up some food. As soon as Y/N pulled out a frying pan she could hear the shuffling of a certain wolf upstairs. It was Minho. Y/N couldn't help but smirk as he hated people being in his kitchen. Y/N was the only exception. Y/N almost laughed as she could hear him running down the stairs as fast as he could to see who was in the kitchen. "What are you doing? I didn't know you were up?" Minho asked. "I wanted to apologise for my situation," Y/N explained. "Do not ever apologise," Minho grumbled, his arms wrapping around her waist as he hugged her tightly. "If we didn't love you, we wouldn't have helped you, but we all did." "You all love me?" Y/N whimpered. "Yes, we love you so much. Do not ever be embarrassed about your heat not ever." Minho stressed, forcing her to look at him. His deep murky brown eyes held no lie as she looked at him.
Y/N nudged him away so he could lay the table while Minho woke the others up. Changbin was the first one down in his pyjamas, giving her a quick kiss and hug before wolfing down breakfast. Seungmin appeared with a cheeky grin, only to be smacked around the head by Hyunjin who gave her a soft smile. "How is my beautiful wolf?" Chan called out, his hair wet from the shower. "M, alright," Y/N whispered as she leaned up to kiss him, before resting her head on Chan's chest while watching the wolves eat. They where content and happy, that none of them seemed to notice a battered beautiful blonde wolf came down. His whole entire body was covered in scratches and bite marks. Even his chin was marked. "Lixie? Are you okay? I am so sorry?" Y/N ran straight towards him, searching his face, but Felix didn't care. "Baby, I'm fine. I'm happy to wear your marks. They are special to me." Felix said proudly as he showed his chin, presenting his mark. Y/N felt proud too but also she felt like she violated him, but Felix didn't see it that way. As the wolves continued to eat while Y/N had a shower to wash her heat off. The shower felt cold on her skin as the water washed away the sweat of hers and the wolves arousal. It felt like a crime to wash them away but she wanted to feel like herself again. When she finished, Y/N headed back downstairs to see Chan and Hyunjin waiting for her. They wanted to take her to work with them because they had some things to sort out but it was in a busy city so she needed to stay with them. What she didn't realise was Chan wanted to see if the person would show up again, but they didn't show up.
Y/N went with Chan to work three days in a row and they still never showed up. Y/N would sit in the office watching Chan and Hyunjin on the phone as they sold or bought companies. There would even be times Hyunjin would ask her for input on a design for a company while Chan would allow her to do admin work. Again there was no appearance of any figure or any person and Y/N worried she may have made it up. Hyunjin tried to justify it by saying it could have been someone being a creep because Y/N was attractive and didn't actually mean any harm, but Chan didn't want to take that risk until a week went by and Chan gave up. When Chan gave up they reappeared when Minho brought her to work, and Y/N noticed them. She didn't say anything at first as she wanted to get a good look at them before mentioning it, but their face was buried deep in their hood. They were tall and broad. It was like she recognised them but didn't. They were strange. They didn't follow her into the building when she was with Minho, but Y/N wasn't sure if they left. She tried not to let it bother her as she carried on as normal with Minho, but she couldn't help it.
Minho noticed something was up rather quickly. His nose was telling him she was uncomfortable and afraid but he put it down to her being around other wolves who she didn't know. Minho didn't say anything and let her be, but he did want to know how to make it better. "Y/N, are you sure you're alright?" Minho asked. "Yes. Are you sure you've checked all the wolves and who they are? No one can come in here?" Y/N asked causing Minho to frown. He vetted all the wolves and checked their data so why was she feeling unsafe? "Yes, I have. What's the problem?" Minho asked, crossing his arms in confusion when someone knocked on the door. "Sorry Minho. There has been an issue with the Lunar wolves, can you take a look at this?" A wolf stated. "Uh, yes. Give me a minute, Joon." Minho waved him down before telling Y/N not to leave the room. Was she going to listen? No. She wanted to see who they were.
As soon as Minho left, Y/N flicked the blinds to see who they were, but again they still weren't there. Y/N left it when a stone hit the window, causing the female wolf to jump. Her body was on high alert which meant he was there. Y/N crouched down and crawled to the window to look. They were stood on the other side by the bench with their arms crossed. They held up a piece of paper, before placing it on the bench and then leaving. Y/N decided then and there to sprint down the stairs, and across the road to the bench where she saw a note. A note that said: Why did you leave them for Straykids you whore. "Y/N!" Minho shouted as he legged it towards her. "What the hell are you thinking? What's that?" "A note. They followed me here." Minho snatched the note from her hand to read it. His brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to piece together what they wanted. "Let's get back inside," Minho growled as he dragged her into the covenstead.
Minho was beyond angry at her sudden disappearing act. He couldn't believe she would be that stupid, let alone try and follow them. "Minho. I'm sorry okay." Y/N whimpered as she saw his saffron eyes. They made her feel low, beneath him. "How could you be so stupid and reckless? Huh?" Minho shouted, his voice was harsh like an alpha and it made her cower. It frightened her. "Baby?" Minho cooed, his voice was softer this time, less aggressive as he noticed her form. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get angry. Baby, I was scared that you were going to disappear." "Come here, little wolf. Please." Minho begged as he opened his arms up for her to crawl into. He hugged her tightly, whispering her words of apology and words of promise. Minho promised he would find them and hunt them down, but now it meant he could not leave them on their own ever again.
Taglist for the iconic readers:
@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @pixie0627 @maggicotton @jellymochii @itzreetal987 @jennibahng @vampkittenb82 @catlove83 @thatgirlangelb @hyunmikim @skzdreamer13 @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @tsunderelintz @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx @fr34k4c1dr41n
~ Taglist closed due to Tumblr only allowing a certain amount ~
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#skz omegaverse#skz abo#skz smut#abanb#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#lee know#lee know x reader#lee know smut#changbin#changbin x reader#changbin smut#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin smut#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han jisung smut#lee felix#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#seungmin#seungmin x reader#seungmin smut#jeongin#jeongin x reader
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Good To Me
PAIRING - Hanamaki Takahiro x Reader WC - 1.0K GENRE - smut CW - oral (f!receiving), mindless praising, reader inexperienced at giving praise but makki eats it up literally. SYNOPSIS - hanamaki is always attentive to you, always hard working for you and always always so good to you
Your hands curl up, tugging on the strands caught in your fists as you do. Your hips grinding at the same time he lifts his head towards you, guided by your tugs.
“Fuck, fuck, Hiro-” you whine his name out and can feel him moan into you. “Fuck Hiro, just like that.” Takahiro’s tongue prodded further into your soaked hole.
His hands were situated in the crease made by your thighs and your hips. His thumbs pulled your lower half apart further as his fingers pressed you down more onto his face. He was groaning into you at the feeling of your juices running down his chin.
It had taken you some convincing to get where you were now. Some coaxing from Takahiro as you stuttered about how you weren’t sure if you could do it… if you could really sit on his face. Nonsense, he said. His tongue slipped out of your hole for a second so he could roll your clit into his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the way you gasped sharply and let out another moan.
“So, so good.” You were breathless as you tugged on his hair, trying to keep one hand on the headboard to keep yourself upright. You shuddered at the way his tongue laved over your folds, the sloppiness of it all not bothering him although you seemed to blush at the feeling of your slick and his saliva coating your inner thighs.
“Can’t keep up, Hiro.” Your body shook, arms starting to buckle as they struggled to keep you up. “Takahiro-wait. Ahh.” You shuddered and your moan came out shaky as he pinned you closer to his face, licking into your hole again, tongue flicking against your inner walls. You cried out at the way he clung to you.
Your body fell forward, hand leaving his hair to catch yourself. Your hips lifted off his face slightly at the movement but his hands pulled you right back down. You cried out and tried to roll off him but he moved with you, easily flipping you so your head rested on the pillows, his hands now pinning your hips to the bed, tongue still diving into you. Your hands found their way back to his hair, tugging on the strands so you could catch his eyes.
He looks desperate, eyes begging you to let him stay there and devour you. You noticed the way his hips ground into the bed below him. “Feels, feels so good, Hiro.” You mumbled, voice shaking as you smoothed down a bit of his hair you had messed up. He groaned into you, pressing his nose against your clit and earning a hitch of your breath sliding into a small whine. “Fuck you make me feel so good.” Takahiro moaned into your core, hips stuttering as he adjusted his angle, focusing again on your clit, thriving off how you squirmed.
Takahiro pulled back for a second to breathe, fingers taking the place of his tongue as he panted, eyes focusing on how willing your cunt was to suck his long fingers in. Your eyes fluttered shut and a sigh left your lips at the feeling, back arching slightly. “Fuck how are you so good at this.”
You barely registered the slight twitch of his fingers inside of you when you heard him speak, voice heavy with lust. “Come again?”
You stuttered for a second, heat crawling up your cheeks. Takahiro and yourself hadn’t been together long and you’d usually tried to stay quiet, not wanting to accidentally say the wrong thing and ruin the mood. “You-you’re so good at this.” You stuttered over the praise, worried it was the wrong thing to say.
“Oh fuck,” he mumbled. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes hazy as they looked at you. He dipped his mouth back between your legs and sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling over it quickly as his fingers curled.
You whimpered at the movement, the sentiment still stuck on your tongue. “You’re so good to me-fuck.” You shook, body arching into him. “So good.” You mumbled the phrase on repeat, head hazy as you clung to his hair, pulling him closer. “Ahhhh,” you could feel your body twisting inside, his fingers beckoning you to finish.
Your breath came out shattered, your body craving him more despite the urge to pull away from him. “Hiro, Hiro…” He moaned into you at the sound of his name. “S’good t’me.” Your words slurred together, over and over, “s’good f’me.”
Your head was tossed back as you came, your body twitching when he pulled off of you. “Say it again for me.” He mumbled, pulling his body over yours, kisses littering across your torso.
“So-” you swallowed nervously, eyes catching his as he pleaded, “so good for me.” He groaned, his eyes rolling back a little as he bit your skin a bit.
“Wanna make you feel good.” He mumbled across your skin as he kissed higher. His hips twitched against your thigh and you felt wetness through his boxers. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting it up as his lips pressed to the underside of it. “Wanna make you feel good.”
“You do.” You whispered breathlessly. “Make me feel so good. So good to me. So good for me.” He moaned as he pushed his boxers down, lining his cock up with your entrance, soaked already from his first load, smeared inside of his boxers and across his own hips. “Make me feel so good.” He shuddered as he pressed the head of his cock inside you. You gasped and pressed your hips down, letting him slip further inside you. “You feel so good.”
Your nails scraped down his arms as they caged you in, his lips moaning against the soft skin of your neck. “Say it again.” His hips bucked against yours and you moaned, head tipping back.
“So fucking good, Takahiro.”
“Again.” He begged, hips twitching into you. “Please.”
TAGLIST -
@intergalacticrory @tsukiran @awkwardaardvarkforever @all-in-the-fandoms @mightyknight501
@pearl-blue-musings @qichun @megumuro @s0uldarling @samus-onigiri-stand
@seiri-ously @deepenthevoid @albakugo @winniethepooh-lover @unriding
@all-in-the-fandoms @little-miss-naill @lumestar @theycallmenanamisgirl @cl-0-vr
@iluv-ace @appalost @rockrose-blossoms @afire24 @crystal-lilac
#Hanamaki x reader#Hanamaki Takahiro x reader#Hanamaki smut#Hanamaki Takahiro smut#hq x reader#Haikyuu x reader#hq smut#haikyuu smut#𓇻 Hanamaki’s Gravity#𓇻 Void Screams Back#𓇻 Dark Side Writing
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