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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

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Under the Mistletoe || OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x bff!fem!reader Summary: Sick of his friends pining for each other but two stupid to realise it was mutual, Logan sets about making sure they both get their Christmas wish. Warnings: pining, angst, fluff WC: 2.2k

“Hold up, let me find his spare key,” Logan said as he balanced his box on top of the one you already carried.

“Just use mine,” you said as you carefully turned. “Back pocket, left. Other left, dude.”

“My bad.” Logan grabbed the keychain and tried the ones that weren’t your car or letterbox keys. “He gave you a key?”

“Just so I can water the plants while he’s away, and make sure the stove is turned off.”

Logan laughed, turning the right key and opening the door. “He doesn’t even cook.”

You shrugged and followed him into Oscar’s house. “Doesn’t stop him thinking he’s left it on as soon as he’s at the airport.”

It was like walking into your own apartment, there was a home comfort to hanging your keys on the hook that had your initials and hanging your coat on the rack. Picking your box up again, you followed Logan to the kitchen and deposited it on the bench before grabbing two glasses and pouring you both a much deserved drink.

“This is why people don’t believe you are ‘just friends’,” Logan stated, chuckling when you rolled your eyes at him and continued to help yourself to the snacks Oscar kept stocked for you.

“Just shut up and hang the decorations before I overlook your usefulness.”

Logan returned to his box, unpacking the tinsel and bunting that you had bought. “At least you didn’t deny it this time.”

“We are definitely just friends, Lo.” You looked down at the crisp packet and muttered under your breath, “I’m not his type anyway.”

You didn’t notice Logan pause, but you did look up when he shoved his handful back in the box. “What?”

“What?” you echoed.

“What did you say?”

“We are just friends.”

“No, after that.” He leaned back against the kitchen benchtop and crossed his arms. “How do you know you’re not his type?”

“Because we are friends, we talk about these things,” you said with a shrug. “Can we not talk about this right now? He’s going to be home in a few hours.”

“We have time,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “What makes you think you’re not his type?”

You huffed in annoyance and grabbed the decorations yourself, taking them to the living room since Logan was going to be no help. “Because I’m not, okay. He likes funny girls. He wants someone he can have a laugh with to take his mind off work when he gets home. And pretty too, actually he said ‘beautiful’.”

“Okay…” Logan stared at you until you grew uncomfortable.

“And he's surrounded by models at every event.”

“So why isn’t he dating one of them then?”

“Because his standards are obviously high if they aren’t pretty enough for him. I don’t stand a chance.”

Logan shook his head and groaned. “Have you told him that you love him?”

“Of course I have, I tell him all the time.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You gave him a look that warned him not to ask another stupid question. “I’m not going to risk our friendship when my relationships never end well. I’d rather be his friend forever, than an ex I never see again.”

“God, you are both so stupid.” Logan brushed you aside as you tried to jump and reach the hooks high up the wall. “Give me that before you hurt yourself.”

You watched on as he hung the tinsel around the room with minimal guidance needed and deemed it safe enough to leave him in charge. Oscar was fairly tidy, compared to the other men you know, but his pet hate was making his bed. He would always leave it unmade claiming he was only going to make it messy again that night.

You went upstairs and made the bed before seeing the laundry basket was overflowing. He mustn’t have had time to do it between his trip to Baku, the McLaren Factory and then his short trip home to Melbourne. That was why you were in his house, setting it up for another Christmas he would miss with his family. You didn’t want him to feel alone so you were bringing Australia to him.

You lost track of time when you found his whites mixed in with the colours and you tutted to yourself as you separated them to soak in the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Oscar said when he found you in his laundry, both the dryer and the washing machine working as hard as you.

“Hey, you’re home!” You dropped the clothes you were folding and threw your arms around him. His tired chuckle made your heartbeat a little fast as he embraced you back and buried his face in your neck. “How’s mum and dad? And your sisters? Did they like the presents?”

His head grew heavier as he leaned against you and nodded. “Of course they did, you always know what they want.”

“Not me, you,” you corrected as you brushed a hand over his messy hair. “You got them remember.”

Oscar pulled back with a shy smile. “I think everyone knows you are the mastermind. I would have just given them a gift card.”

You laughed at the truth as the dryer finished another load but Oscar took your hand and towed you out of the laundry. “I’ll do it later,” he stated. “Logan’s already got the tree up but there’s one thing missing.”

Your jaw dropped as you saw the living room had been completely transformed into an Australian Christmas so Oscar would feel at home. A pine tree sat in the corner of the room, needles scattered around the base from trying to manoeuvre it into place. Like the ceiling, green and gold tinsel snaked around the tree but it was the floor that caught your eye.

“The sand was meant to be in the pool,” you laughed as you pointed to the small children’s sized blow up pool still in the box. Logan had poured the bags of golden sand around the tree and the wooden floor now resembled a tiny beach.

“You know, that makes more sense,” Logan admitted.

You bit your lip but it did little to stifle the laugh and when Oscar’s deeper laugh joined there was no holding back. The three of you collapsed laughing onto the couch to embrace the beach themed room and you kicked your shoes off to dig your toes into the sand.

“It’s so weird to imagine,” you chuckled, the snow falling outside a complete contradiction to the scene inside. The central heating had been cranked up to its hottest setting and it truly felt like summer. “Christmas is for making snowmen and having hot chocolate by the fire.”

Oscar draped his arm over the back of your cushion and stretched his legs out after his long flight. “How about next year I can take you home to experience this first hand?”

You smiled at the idea but you couldn’t make that commitment by saying yes, even if you wanted nothing more than to make it happen. “Maybe, let’s just see what the year brings. Who knows, you might want to take your girlfriend home.”

He looked at you with a frown. “I don’t have a girlfriend, yet.”

“Exactly, yet.”

“Idiots,” Logan mumbled as he got up. “I’m getting a drink. You guys want one?”

You both thanked him and as he left the room Oscar patted your knee. “Star time.”

You grinned at the fact he remembered your favourite part of setting the tree up and his hands settled on your hips when you reached it. “I can’t be bothered getting the ladder out,” he said before he picked you up. You placed the glittery star on the highest point and adjusted it a few times more than necessary until Oscar laughed and eased you down. But his hands still remained on your hips. “It’s perfect.”

Logan returned and the moment shattered as you took your drink from him and cleared your throat. “Merry Christmas, my orphan friends.”

“Thanks for the adoption,” Logan chuckled. “If I can’t spend Christmas with my family it’s nice to at least have you guys.”

“That probably sounded better in his head,” Oscar teased before raising his glass too. “But he’s right, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Your cheeks warmed at the smile on his face and you were sure he felt it when he pressed a chaste kiss to one. A little frazzled, you tried to hide the effect he had on you and pointed to the mess on the floor. “Do you think we can build a sandcastle?”

“No, but I think we can build a snowman. Go put your coat on, I know you want to.”

You didn’t have to be told twice and Logan laughed as Oscar followed you to the backyard. “You two have fun, I like the heat more.”

Your breath misted as it hit the chilly air and you rushed to pull your gloves on, something you should have done before stepping outside.

“Here, let me,” Oscar offered, shoving his own in his pocket in the meantime. He took your woollen mittens and held them open for you before tightening the wrists and sealing the warmth that remained inside. “You look like a marshmallow.”

You bent down and started to collect the snow needed to make the first ball and narrowed your eyes at him when he joined you a moment later, his gloves already on. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he smirked. “Marshmallows are cute.”

“Cute?” You wrinkled your nose and gently nudged him with your shoulder. “Now that’s an insult.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “To you or the marshmallow?”

“Uh, both,” you decided with a definitive nod.

“Okay, sorry,” he apologised and then bit his bottom lip as he stared at you over the growing snowball. “Marshmallows are beautiful and my favourite thing in the whole wide world. I love marshmallows.”

“Wow, weirdo, they aren’t that great.”

Logan had been about to ask if you wanted another drink but instead he closed the kitchen window. “Marshmallows, idiots.”

“Not bad for an Aussie,” you commented as you wrapped your arms around his waist and admired the finished product. “A shame you didn’t have a carrot in your fridge.”

Oscar pushed the cucumber nose in further to stop it drooping down before hugging you tighter. “Or a spare scarf, you must be freezing.” He pulled his own off one and draped it around your neck so yours could stay on the snowman. “Ready to go back in?”

You nodded reluctantly and let him go, following him into the warmth where Logan sat in the leather recliner watching Home Alone. “Nice to see you waited for the rest of us,” Oscar noted as he dropped onto the couch and pulled you down with him.

“You know it word for word.”

“So do you.”

“I ran out of things to do,” he said with a shrug.

Everything had been seen up so you were confused by the statement. “What did you do?”

Logan didn’t answer as he tossed another handful of popcorn in his mouth before blindly pointing in your direction, but higher. You and Oscar looked up and found a small wreath hanging where a picture frame of the Albert Park F1 circuit was, woven into the greenery you spotted it - Mistletoe.

“Dude!” “Mate!”

Logan laughed to himself and kept watching the movie. “You know the rules. Kiss or streak in the snow.”

“I don’t remember it being streaking,” Oscar commented as he turned to you.

You looked at him too, your eyes drifting down to his lips. You had spent countless daydreams imagining how they would feel against yours.

“Don’t overthink it, the rule needed changing,” Logan mumbled. “So…”

“It’s really cold outside,” you murmured as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his.

“Way too cold,” he agreed with the smallest of nods. The air was pregnant with the pause before he exhaled and reached for you. His hand curled behind your nape and drew you closer, so slowly you weren't sure he was going to change his mind or thinking you would. If only he knew.

Your heart thumped loudly as you felt his breath on your skin and your hands found their way to his shoulders and ran along the thick muscles that climbed his neck. “Osc,” you whispered softly as you felt the warmth radiating off his lips but still they didn’t touch.

“Yeah?” he asked, the corners tugging up as he heard the need in your tone.

“Please...”

He pulled back just far enough to see the burning desire in your eyes and his thumb stroked your jawline. “Been waiting years for this.”

You couldn’t tell who moved first, but you both moved together, his mouth slanting over yours perfectly like they were made to complement each other. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you tasted the beer on his tongue when he slipped it between your parted lips with a deep moan.

Popcorn rained over your heads and you broke apart to glare at the very smug looking man responsible. “About fucking time! I love you, but you are both idiots.”

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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signedmio · 4 months

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Can I please request a Lucifer, Vox and Adam x GN! Reader where Lucifer, Vox, Adam becomes a nervous wreck trying to propose to Reader and even at there wedding day as they get themselves ready to step out of there dressing room and do there bows and all :3

what the flip this actually had me getting giddy reading this OFC I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU !!

a/n: i’m just doing proposal and wedding hcs so i hope that’s okay!! but they will contain bits of them getting all nervous so dw :)

a/n #2: THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!

Warnings: Swearing, potential S1 spoilers(?), mentions of sex (no smut)

Adam Proposal + Wedding Headcanons

Adam didn’t understand why he was so nervous to propose, he’s ADAM, he’s the fucking man, he’s the OG DICK. Who could say no to him?

Uh.. actually… you could, technically. And he is — believe it or not — sorta scared out of his fucking mind for that outcome, considering he spent all his time with you, he wasn’t sure what his life would turn to if it didn’t go smoothly, but bitch is a risk taker, so ya boi fuckin’ went for it

Adam, with little-no ideas, went super basic, it was the only way he really knew how, he took you out to a fancy restaurant with fancy ass clothes, as a ‘business meeting’

After waiting over and over for the right moment, he realized he was almost out of time, so he popped down onto one knee

“Look, I don’t really understand this whole… proposal bullshit.” Adam started, fidgeting with the ring box in his hand nervously — whilst trying to maintain his cool,

“But I’m gonna do it, cause I’m the fucking man!” He said as he began to regain his confidence, “So, babe, would you make me the happiest man in Heaven and become the fucking one?” He said, pushing out the ring box, with a nervous but genuine toothy grin.

You said yes! Pffft, he called it! He called it.. heh..

He’s actually a lot more invested in wedding planning then you might think!

Just the reception though, the ceremony is ‘boring as fuck’

He will get slightly emotional during the ceremony, not tears or anything, but for one of the first (and realistically last) times, he has a gentle but proud smile on his face as you walk down the isle and you two do your vows.

THEN, that completely changed at the reception, bro goes batshit crazy. He definitely planned to have some bomb ass music and he is either chugging a shot or dancing his fucking heart out to the music.

Whenever talking to people at the reception, he will sit there and shove his wedding band in their fucking face as if they didn’t just watch you get married.

And then you guys go to your honeymoon basically immediately, and once you two get your ass into your hotel, you’re fucking.

That aside though, Lute was Adam’s best man, no questions asked. 😛

Lucifer Proposal + Wedding

Headcanons

Lucifer hasn’t had to do this since Lilith, which has its pros and cons.

He’s a little more experienced than the other two, due to the fact that he’s obviously proposed before.

He’s less nervous because of this, but that doesn’t mean he just doesn’t care, cause he really wants this to be special for you, he just doesn’t want you to regret it — whatever your response may be.

He bought a ring for you way before he actually proposed, and he always kept it with him, because he never knew when the right moment would strike

And it came when he least expected it…

It was around 3am, and there was hardly anyone out on the streets, surprisingly, you two were taking a nightly stroll, and you had laughed at something he said, and you just looked so beautiful in the Hellish night sky, he knew, right then and there, you were the one.

You continued to stroll down the street in the bloody red, before realizing Lucifer’s absence from your side, you turn around to see the blonde angel on one knee, with a soft smile and tears pricking in his eyes.

“Y’know, I wasn’t too sure about love after what happened with Lilith..” He started, letting out a small sigh to contain himself before continuing, “And, somehow, someway, you came into my life at the best possible time.” He said, taking a pause, trying to regulate his emotions.

“You found me at my worst, and turned me into my best, and my God, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Lucifer said, combing over some of his blonde locks to the side, as tears continued to well up in his eyes.

“Sweetie, you make me so happy, and you love me, silliness and flaws and all, so my love, would you please do me the honor and allow me to be your husband?”

Yes, he got you duck themed wedding rings. Because why would he not?

He’s very insistent on helping with the wedding planning, you’ve done so much for him, so he wants you to be able to sit back and relax and just be able to enjoy the wedding.

And then he crashes and burns, as he realizes, he doesn’t fucking know how to plan a wedding… So you guys split it half-and-half.

He really wants a winter wedding. On Valentine’s Day. With Valentines colors. Please let him have it. He’s so baby, he really wants it.

During the ceremony, he definitely cries. Not too hard core though, a couple tears and sniffles with a proud, dopey smile across his face.

The reception is a more lowkey version of Adam’s, there’s music and shit, but it’s not like a madhouse in contrast lmao.

Luci does make a point to talk to almost every guest, especially if their your family, cause he wants to get to know them.

Also, if there are kids at your wedding, especially if their your relatives, he loves them. He will let them climb all over him, he’ll fly them around a bit, he’ll play with them. I love the idea of Luci playing with kids.

You guys don’t have a honeymoon, though, he’d rather stay at home and make ducks.

Oh yeah, next topic to tackle is… how does he tell you he wants kids…? And when…?

Vox Proposal + Wedding

Headcanons

As much as Vox may say, it’s for business, it’s not. He loves you so much.

Vox wants a lowkey proposal, not a lot of people around, just done and out of the way.

He does it while at a VoxTech event, so the two of you are already dressed up incase some paparazzi come and sneak pictures.

Once he has a bit of spare time, he pulls you out into a private hallway or a balcony, and does his thing. And yes, he glitches

Halfway through your conversation with Velvette, you feel a jerk on your arm and as your being dragged off Velvette gives you two big thumbs up with a toothy grin, while mouthing ‘Goodluck!’ like bitch, the fuck? Good luck for what??

You’re pulled out into the hallway, and shoved into the outside balcony area, you turn after you get your focus back, which is immediately taken away after you see Vox on one knee.

“Dear, zzh— we’ve been through a lot together, ssz— and szzz!- Honestly, it’s not like I even care, szzzz- but, maybe, you’d consider, szz- marrying me?” Vox makes an attempt to proudly hold the ring box to you as he just embarrassed himself, he gives a nervous, toothy, talk show host grin.

Yeah.. Just for business. mhm.

A lot of people are invited to your wedding, it’s fucking Vox, he knows people.

Neither of you plan the wedding, per say, Vox just gets an employee to do all the tedious stuff for you guys and you two give your input when needed.

During the ceremony, Vox doesn’t get emotional, there’s people here who has business deals with, therefore, the show must go on!

But during the reception, when you both have your first dance as spouses, the world for him… goes quiet.

THAT’S when he gets slightly emotional, he leans into your touch and cannot stop whispering to you about how much he fucking loves you.

The reception is a bit more formal, you both go around and talk to guests as Vox does his little host shit, and makes a few business deals.

You guys have a honeymoon, and it’s expensive as FUCK, that was a little surprise for you, he takes you out to the biggest places in all of Hell, only the best for his newly-wedded spouse~

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punkshort · 4 months

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somewhere to run | 5. first date

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You are left picking up the pieces from the events of the carnival night, in more ways than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, jealousy, domestic violence and implied SA (nothing descriptive), mental and physical abuse, bar-fight type violence

WC: 6.8K

A/N: This is a tough chapter, please heed the warnings and if anyone thinks I need to add anything, please let me know

Series Masterlist

You stared listlessly at the blades of the ceiling fan swirling above your head as you listened to the town waking up outside your window. It was getting harder and harder to force yourself out of bed, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing you down with each passing day.

It's been almost a week since that night at the carnival. Almost a week since you've seen him. You wished you could remember what his lips felt like, but whenever you thought about that night, all you could see was the look on his face when you finally told him the truth. His hands dropped from your waist like you had burned him. His eyes hardened like you had slapped him. And before you even had a chance to explain, he was gone.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home, tears clouding your vision as you drove down the quiet streets back to your little apartment, all alone. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but after an hour, you weren't so sure anymore. So, you picked up your phone and called him. You weren't even sure what you would say, but you needed to try to make things right. It didn't end up mattering, anyway. He never answered, which should have been telling for what was to come, but you still persisted.

You called him two more times - once more that night, and again the following morning, but still he ignored your calls. Now, you stared at your phone, looking at the unanswered texts you sent, hoping he would be tempted to respond that way, but there was no such luck.

Please call me back, I want to explain.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Where are you?

The last text was sent Monday afternoon when he didn't show up at the diner for the first time since you started. Even Betty looked shocked, but you wouldn't tell her what happened. How could you?

The rest of the week was the same. Every day you glanced up at the door, hoping to see his familiar frame walk through, hoping that maybe enough time would have passed for him to give you another chance, but all week he was missing.

You overheard Tommy talking with Maria in the kitchen, asking if she had seen his brother. Was he doing this to make things worse for you? Inevitably, the truth would come out if he kept this up, and you would be left to deal with the onslaught of questions. Was he purposely trying to hurt you?

Little did you know, later that evening you would receive your answer.

It was Friday, and you were on the schedule for the dinner shift. At least you had the luxury of laying in bed, sulking with only your overpowering guilt and the enormous stuffed penguin he won for you to keep you company. You stared at it now, wondering why you didn't shove it in your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it every time you walked into your room. But you knew the answer. You were punishing yourself for being selfish, for being dishonest, for being a horrible person who deserved what she got.

Eventually around noon, you pulled yourself out of bed, hunger getting the best of you and the smells from the pizza place downstairs didn't help matters.

You got a reminder on your calendar that you were supposed to go to book club tomorrow night. Aside from work, you hadn't left your apartment all week. You had to cancel. There was no way you would be able to go through with it. You could barely muster the energy to shower, and the only reason you managed to drag yourself to work was for the money. No longer did you have anything to look forward to now that Joel made his feelings crystal clear with his absence. What little enjoyment you had in this new life was long gone.

Deciding that you should take a short walk to try to clear your head and grab a treat from the coffee shop, you tugged on jeans and a T-shirt before pulling your hair back and grabbing a pair of sunglasses before heading down the stairs. At least with the sunglasses you could avoid eye contact.

Right as you were locking up after yourself, you heard your name. You grimaced but turned around and forced a smile when you saw Hailey approaching with a friendly wave.

"Hey," you said, giving her a small hug when she got closer.

"I haven't seen you all week! Have you been sick or something?"

"Something like that," you mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses.

"I've been trying to catch you, I wanted to show you some pics from last weekend. You were there, right? I thought I saw you tagged in something," Hailey said as she scrolled on her phone, presumably looking for pictures she took from the carnival.

"Tagged?" you repeated, confused. She nodded and held up her phone, showing you the Facebook app. You shook your head and frowned.

"I'm not on Facebook," you said to her. She pursed her lips and swiped through a few images before finally stopping on a video. It was terrible lighting and the sound was awful but you could clearly see the yellow dress you were wearing as you watched Joel play the target game. Even from the shitty video you could see the obvious attraction in your eyes as you gazed at him. A chorus of cheers followed after each pull of the trigger, but your eyes remained glued to Joel's back, frozen in place.

"Isn't this your page?" she asked, clicking on your name and showing you the profile. You took the phone from her with shaky hands, scrolling through the information and pictures listed. It was you. Everything listed was correct, but you never created this page. You wouldn't have been that stupid. Then the realization hit you and your blood ran cold.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went back to the video, noticing at the top the location was tagged along with you, Joel, and a few other people from town you barely recognized.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself.

"What's wrong?"

You handed her the phone back, tears burning the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go," you said, turning back around to fumble with your keys. You raced up the stairs, making sure both doors were double locked before hiding in your bedroom, your phone clutched in your hand as you looked up your fake profile, trying to learn more but you already knew.

Patrick was coming for you.

You were downright terrified to work that night. If he found you, and it was just a matter of time at this point, he most likely would wait until you were alone. He would wait until he could follow you, find out where you lived, and only then would he make his move. The idea of walking home at night seemed like a really bad idea, so even though it was a ten minute walk, you chose instead to drape yourself in an oversized hoodie with sunglasses and jog to your car, glancing nervously around the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles before sliding into the driver's seat.

Anxiously, you checked your mirrors the whole short drive to the diner, but it didn't appear that you were being followed. You knew once you got to work, you would be safe. Being around other people was your only defense. Then you had the weekend off, so you could hide and figure out what to do. All you had to do was get through your shift.

The diner was busy. It was Friday, and the carnival was no longer in town, so people were going back to their regular routines. Many people in town tended to stop by for dinner before the only movie theater in town ran the 7pm showing, so that typically meant a 5:30 rush.

Fortunately, you were busy. It helped keep your mind off everything: Patrick. Joel. The mess you created everywhere you went. It was all pushed to the back of your mind as you ran around the dining room, dropping off food and wiping down tables. You hadn't even noticed the familiar voice talking to Maria at the hostess stand, even though you had been yearning to hear it all week.

You were filling the ice when you heard him somewhere behind you, and you were so relieved you almost cried. Finally, he came back and you could explain to him what happened. He was the sheriff, after all. And you trusted him. If anybody might be able to do something to help you, it was him.

You turned around with a deep breath, then froze at what you saw. Joel was seated at one of the booths, not at the counter like he typically would be, and gazing adoringly across the table at Nikki.

He was on a date.

You thought you were going to be sick. You clutched your stomach and turned away, blinking back the tears but before you could go hide in the back, Maria spotted you.

"Do you mind taking care of Joel? Gina's got too many tables," she asked. You thought you would faint the way all the blood drained from your face. All you could manage to do was nod, and she hurried back to the hostess stand, completely oblivious.

You forced your feet to move, keeping your gaze down as you pulled out your pad of paper and pen with shaky fingers and forcing a weak smile when you approached their table. You weren't sure if his intention was to have you wait on him, or if he just wanted you to see him with another woman, or maybe he didn't care about you at all. But his reaction gave you nothing to work with since he barely spared you a glance when you greeted them. However, Nikki recognized you and gave you a warm smile.

"I don't think I knew you worked here!" she said, and when Joel realized you knew each other, he finally seemed to react. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he dragged his gaze up to look between the two of you, no playfulness or warmth to be found in his eyes. You swallowed and tried to focus on your job, ignoring Joel as best you could, but Nikki spoke before you could even get the specials out.

"We know each other from book club," she explained to him before turning back to you. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think so," you said nervously, feeling Joel's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

"Oh, that's a shame! We had such a fun time last month," she said with a giggle. You had to admit, they made a good match. She was beautiful and seemed very nice. You should be happy for them both, but you knew the moment you got home, you would collapse into tears.

"You should go," Joel said gruffly, and it took all the strength you had to make yourself look at him. He no longer gave you the same look he used to, and it broke your heart. He looked at you like a stranger, like he barely even knew you. It felt more painful than anything Patrick ever did.

"Maybe I will," you said, tearing your eyes away from him. Before Nikki could say anything else, you rambled off the specials, your mind on autopilot. You ripped a hole in your paper with your pen when you saw out of the corner of your eye Nikki link her fingers with his across the table. You mumbled something about being right back and hurried off, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was too cruel. You endured a lot in your time, but this? This was too much.

As you filled up their drinks and flicked away a stray tear from the corner of your eye, you heard Joel's voice clear his throat behind you at the counter. You turned around, drinks in hand. He was leaning over the counter, trying to stay hidden from sight.

"I didn't mean for -"

"It's fine," you said coldly, staring him down. He blinked at you, and for the first time you saw a shred of guilt pass over his features. When he didn't say anything else, you shifted your weight and glanced over his shoulder at Nikki.

"You better go. Your date's looking for you."

His gaze fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, about to say something else but you didn't let him. You could only take so much. By the time he looked back up, you were halfway across the dining room, setting down their drinks and giving your attention to your other tables.

You drove home that night with hot tears finally trailing down your cheeks, your mind completely fixated now on Joel and Nikki. It hurt how he moved on so quickly. Maybe you misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a conquest and nothing more. What else would possibly explain it? For the first time, you wondered if you were the one better off after all.

Would he kiss her goodnight? Would they have sex?

Did they already have sex?

You parked your car and hunched over the steering wheel, letting the tears flow freely now that you were home and no one was around.

A sharp rap on your window pulled you out of your misery, making you jump. You wiped your cheeks before turning to look, your eyes widening and your heart immediately getting stuck in your throat.

Patrick just shook his head in disappointment, then beckoned you out of the car with his index finger. With a shaky hand, you reached for the door handle and swung it open, sliding out of the seat and taking a deep breath. Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"When are you gonna learn I'm never gonna give up on us, babe?"

After he left, you laid there in your bed, staring up at the fan swirling above you once again and the smell of that fucking cologne permeating your sheets. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You couldn't help but think you brought this on yourself. Maybe if you didn't go to that fucking carnival in the first place, none of this would have happened. Joel wouldn't be icing you out, Patrick wouldn't have found you, and you wouldn't be cleaning up the mess he left between your legs while you sobbed over the bathroom sink. Every time this happened you were eternally grateful for your oldest cousin back home who took you to get birth control at the local clinic behind your husband's back. If not for her, who knows how much worse things would be.

But here you were, finding yourself slipping right back into the same situation you were trying to escape. This time, he promised to go to AA and NA. He promised he would try to get better. Part of you wanted to believe him, because what other choice did you have? He would always find you. And it was encouraging he didn't insist on staying with you at your apartment, nor did he hit you. This time.

Just as you were contemplating whether or not to flee again, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You sighed and made your way over, your body and mind exhausted, the events of the day catching up with you. You lifted your phone up and froze. Blinking a few times, you sunk down into your mattress and opened up the message.

Joel: I'm sorry about earlier

You sniffled and stared at your phone, having no idea what to say. Had he just texted you the day before, or even that morning, maybe things would have been different. You decided to ignore it for now, turning your phone on silent before crawling under the covers and trying to block out the smell.

After a fitful night's sleep, the next morning you eagerly checked your phone, hoping for another text from Joel, but you only had one from Hailey. Disappointed, you opened it up, reading her message about book club that night and who was hosting. You reluctantly agreed to go at the last minute, figuring you would at least be around people for a little while, meaning you would be safe. Besides, you wouldn't be able to avoid Nikki forever. The town was too small and you were sure everyone was already buzzing about their date last night.

You swiped back to your message with Joel, staring at the words again, wondering if you should respond. What if he wasn't alone? What if Nikki spent the night with him? You put your phone down, choosing once and for all not to reply before burying yourself under the covers again.

Going to the book club meeting was a mistake. You politely declined a glass of wine, and you regretted it about twenty minutes in when Nikki began telling the whole group about her date with Joel.

You sat there, listening to every word, each one like a stab to the heart while she told all the ladies about how chivalrous he was when he picked her up, what they talked about, what movie they saw. Every minute bringing you closer and closer to tears.

That could have been you if you had just been honest with him, or maybe just stood up for yourself once in a while instead of letting Patrick steamroll you every chance he got for the past five years.

A couple women glanced your way as Nikki spoke. You had to imagine some people saw you together at the carnival. Towards the end of the night, the heat between you was palpable, but you were pretty certain nobody saw you kiss. You did your best to look indifferent, to act like Joel was just a friend and there were no feelings there, but it was hard. At one point, Hailey asked if you were okay and you had to lie about having a headache, hoping it would explain your quiet behavior.

"It was a little strange at the end of the night, though," Nikki said, finally wrapping up her story.

"How so?" one of the older ladies asked, and you could see the flush creeping up her neck before she even spoke.

"Well, he didn't seem to take my hint about coming inside for coffee when he dropped me off. Or maybe he just didn't want to..." she said, trailing off.

"Oh please, who wouldn't want to," Hailey chimed in, making Nikki giggle. "He's probably just so rusty he wouldn't know it unless you made him a big neon sign that said 'Joel, sleep with me'."

That caused a ripple of laughter amongst the women and you took a steadying breath, already planning on announcing you needed to leave early due to your fake headache when Nikki added one more piece of interesting information.

"Yeah, maybe. But even saying good night, it felt like he didn't really want to kiss me."

"But you did kiss?" another woman asked, and she nodded.

"It was... not what I expected," she admitted, pink dusting her cheeks as she took another sip of wine for courage.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked, and you silently thanked her for being so nosy so you didn't have to ask the same questions that kept popping up in your head.

"I don't know, I thought he would be a better kisser. It was very... boring. Like, there was no passion or excitement."

All the other women murmured to themselves in shock while you remained perfectly silent. That was most definitely not the experience you had kissing Joel.

Fortunately, they moved on from the topic of Joel shortly thereafter, and you decided to force yourself to stay until the end. Given how horrible the whole week had been, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of hope after Nikki's comment.

He didn't want to kiss her. Maybe you could still figure out a way to fix this.

Joel groaned as he rolled over in bed and snatched his phone off the charger, glaring at the device and mentally cursing whoever texted him so fucking early on a Sunday. Then his sleep addled brain jolted awake and his heart skipped a beat, wondering if your name was going to pop up on his phone again, but he was met with instant disappointment when he saw Nikki's name instead.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He should be happy to see that Nikki texted him. Deciding to blame it on the early hour and nothing more, he moved past it and set his phone back down to read the message later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he was awake, all of the turmoil from the past week came rushing back to him, always plaguing his every waking moment.

He hadn't realized how much you were hurting until he finally saw you at the diner that night. It was one of his biggest regrets, taking Nikki there. He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and it hurt you. But you didn't deserve that. Even though you nearly shattered his world with your secret, you still didn't deserve it.

His intention was to try to prove he wasn't as hung up on you as he really was. That it was fine that you were married. That he could move on.

It was a little cruel to go right to Nikki. He knew she had feelings for him, and he took advantage of it, all to prove he was over you. And it wasn't even true. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And now he was going to end up hurting two women, just to protect his ego.

So he decided he would try to make it work with Nikki. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and kind. Maybe, in time, he could develop real feelings for her. But when she kissed him the other night, he felt absolutely nothing. Not like what he felt when he kissed you. And that worried him.

If he knew now what he would be missing out on, could he really be happy with someone who didn't give him a fraction of what he felt with you?

He wished more than ever that he didn't let his emotions get the best of him that night. Maybe you had a reasonable explanation. He couldn't fathom what that could be, but he should have at least heard you out. You wouldn't have intentionally hurt him. In fact, you tried to tell him, in your own way. You constantly pushed him away, kept him at arms length, but he just kept coming back for more. Was it even your fault? Did he pressure you so much that you were forced to share something you weren't ready to share?

Letting his desperation win, he picked up his phone again and checked to see if you maybe texted him back in the last five minutes. When he quickly determined you didn't, he opened up Facebook. Maybe you replied to his private message on there.

Joel didn't get nervous often. He had a steady hand, a level head, and had a knack for seeing two steps ahead. He typically had a calming presence, which fit well for his job when he was able to de-escalate situations naturally and with ease.

But today, he was nervous.

For whatever reason, you didn't respond to his text message the other night, but you did decide to respond to the Facebook message he sent at an ungodly hour in the hopes he could get through to you some other way. And by some miracle, it worked.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee and talk. It was unexpected, he thought he would have to try harder, but you were very agreeable to seeing him.

He wasn't sure what he would say exactly, but he knew he wanted to apologize sincerely and give you the opportunity to explain your situation. If not to get some closure, then to at least make going back to the diner less uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath as he raked his fingers through his hair and swung open the door of the coffee shop. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you: hunched over and staring down at a small cup of coffee on the table in front of you.

He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw a man with a buzz cut and a beard sit down across from you. Joel didn't recognize him and he was fairly certain he could recognize just about anybody in town at this point. Something about the way you glanced up at the man across from you set his teeth on edge. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh. You looked pale and your eyes looked tired. He watched as the two of you exchanged a few words, and based on the man's body language, the mood was tense. Then suddenly, he reached his arm out across the table to grab your wrist and you jumped, fear flickering across your face. Even from this distance, Joel could see the whites of the man's knuckles as he squeezed your delicate skin under his firm grip.

Joel's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and before he knew it, he was marching over to your table. Your eyes flicked up when you noticed him, looking like you had seen a ghost. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sat back in your chair. The man you were with noticed your reaction and finally loosened his grip, and you immediately tucked your hands on your lap underneath the table. He turned around and looked up with a scowl just as Joel approached.

"Everythin' alright here?" Joel asked, staring at you. You opened your mouth to reply, but the man across from you stood up, cutting you off.

"Everything's just great, Joel," he said with a sneer. Joel tore his eyes away from you to regard the man you were with. He looked him up and down, sizing him up, before answering.

"Sorry, have we met?"

"In a way," he said, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. Joel glanced at you again, but you were just staring down at your coffee cup, refusing to look at either of them.

"Don't look at her, look at me," he said, and Joel's head snapped back around with a glare.

"Excuse me?"

That was when Joel smelled the man's cologne. The same one Sarah bought for him. The same one you told him you were sensitive to. The wheels began turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces together.

"Patrick," you said quietly, trying to calm them both down when you felt other customers giving you curious looks.

"Shut up," he growled at you, still staring at Joel. Joel stiffened, the anger building low in his stomach, but he fought to keep a clear head.

"Hey, take it easy," Joel tried to interject, but Patrick scoffed. As his anger began to rise, Joel could see his neck splotching with red and veins popping out under his reddened skin.

"Don't stand there and act like you haven't been fucking my wife!" Patrick all but shouted, pulling the attention of everyone in the coffee shop now. Joel balked and took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong, we've never-"

"Patrick, I'm not sleeping with him, get a grip!" you snapped, finally standing up from the table.

"The hell you aren't. Why's he sending you messages in the middle of the night on Facebook saying he misses you and he's sorry and he needs to see you?" Patrick asked, turning on you now.

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks flushed pink, your surprised gaze bouncing between the two men and that was when Joel figured it out. Patrick lured him there to cause a fight, and you looked to be completely in the dark.

Joel glanced around nervously at all the onlookers now, murmuring amongst themselves, gossip he was sure would spread to the ends of town before noon.

"Listen, why don't we go outside and calm down. I can explain, it's not what it looks like," Joel said, lowering his voice.

"I'm staying right here," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair and jutting his chin out with a glare. He seemed hellbent on doing this his way, and Joel was not in the mood.

"You're disturbin' the peace. These people are tryin' to enjoy their mornin' here. Either come outside with me, or we can do this a different way," Joel replied, pulling the hem of his shirt up to flash the gold star on his belt. Patrick laughed, then leaned over to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, showing Joel his own badge.

"Philly PD. 9th precinct. Wanna try that again, sheriff?"

That bit of information stunned Joel, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Hell, honey, at least you got a type," Patrick muttered to you, putting his wallet away. You grimaced and dropped your head between your shoulders, looking defeated.

"Either way, I gotta ask you to leave," Joel said, standing his ground. He could see the flush rising up Patrick's neck again, his fingers curling into a fist on the table before you stepped to stand between the two men.

"C'mon, Patrick. Let's go," you urged, holding your hand out shakily. Patrick slowly turned his head to look up at you. There was no love in his eyes. No affection or care. All Joel could see was raw anger.

"Why don't you come down to the station with me. We can talk this out, hm?" Joel asked him calmly, not feeling comfortable letting you leave with this man. You turned your head to the side, your eyes unable or unwilling to meet his.

"I got it, Joel. I'm sorry," you said softly over your shoulder.

Joel watched Patrick stand up and mock you under his breath before snatching your hand and pulling you roughly to his side, leading you out the front door. He was scrambling to find another reason to keep you from walking out of there, but he was too late. The pair of you were already halfway down the block by the time Joel was able to gather himself and walk out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, watching as Patrick nearly dragged you up the street. You managed to turn your head once to look at him, your eyes wide and filled with worry before you turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Nikki was talking his ear off, all bubbly and excited as she led Joel into one of the few bars in town. A blind man could see she was trying too hard. She was the one who came up with the idea of drinks, turning down dinner beforehand, and wearing one of the shorter dresses he's seen on a woman in a long time.

He realized about half an hour into the night it must have been a real blow to her self esteem when he turned her down after their first date because she was hanging all over him, pushing her chest against him every chance she could and even encouraged him to do a shot with her. He entertained the idea once but stopped her after that. He wasn't lying when he told you he wasn't much of a drinker, and he certainly wasn't interested in having meaningless, sloppy sex with Nikki, so he tried to slow her down and distract her.

"C'mon, why don't we order you somethin' to eat?" Joel said, flagging down the bartender for a menu, but Nikki shook her head and pouted.

"I'm hungry, but not for food, Joel," she whispered in his ear, then brazenly slid her hand over his thigh to try to cup him over his jeans. His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, and she groaned, pulling her hand back to wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, leaning forward to nibble on his ear. He made a face and untangled her arms from around him, pulling her back to her own stool.

"Listen, Nikki-"

A roar of laughter and some broken glass from the other side of the crowded bar caught Joel's attention. It was a Sunday night, but it was busy. There was a big football game on above the bar and it seemed to pull in all the men in town that evening. It was no wonder Joel didn't notice Patrick until that point.

He watched him through the throngs of bodies as he stumbled around the pool table with a couple other younger men from town. He looked like he was wasted: his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown wide, and his face was bright pink. Nikki followed Joel's gaze and turned back to him, confused.

"Who's that?" she asked, but Joel ignored her and instead waved down the bartender again.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked, wiping his hands with a worn out rag.

"What's goin' on over there, Hank?" Joel asked, nodding in Patrick's direction, watching as he grabbed the ass of a blonde girl heading to the bathroom.

"He's been here for hours," Hank said, leaning across the bar to keep his voice as low as possible. "I started waterin' down his drinks around 5, but he keeps gettin' worse and worse. Told one of his friends there to take him outside, I think he's too far gone and won't take kindly to me askin' him to leave."

Joel nodded and continued to watch. His skin looked red and his hair looked damp with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Nikki purred in his ear, trying to get his attention back on her, but he shook his head.

"Somethin' ain't right," he mumbled.

"I think he's married to that new waitress at the diner," Hank continued. Nikki sat back in her seat and said your name, her eyes beginning to clear. Hank snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Yep, that's the one. Was sayin' some real god awful stuff earlier 'bout her to those guys. Now you know I hear my fair share of bawdy talk 'round here, but this was enough to even make me blush."

Joel cursed under his breath and stood up from his stool. Nikki grabbed his arm and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna have a talk with him," Joel said, shrugging her hand off as he pushed his way through the crowd. As Joel approached the pool table, Patrick's drunken gaze fell on him and he smirked.

"Well, look who it is boys," Patrick said, his voice too loud as he stumbled to lean against the wall. "If it ain't the sheriff of this here wild west." Patrick laughed at his own joke, but the other three men he was with quieted down when they saw Joel.

"I think you oughta head home. Seems like you've had enough this evenin'," Joel said, his voice steady.

"I don't think I like you telling me what to do," Patrick said, his smile slipping as he pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. One of the younger men that was playing pool with Patrick set his cue down on the table and spoke up.

"Hey man, let's just head out - "

"Shut the fuck up, I'll handle this asshole," Patrick turned and yelled, causing the whole bar to go quiet. Joel took a deep breath and reached behind him for his handcuffs.

"I don't fucking think so," Patrick said, his eyes locked on Joel's hand, but Joel just shook his head.

"You ain't givin' me much of a choice," he replied, but before he could blink, Patrick reared back and swung, his meaty fist coming in direct contact with Joel's chest, momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Luckily, Patrick was too drunk and missed Joel's face. But Joel was still relatively sober, and therefore much quicker. He lunged forward and clocked Patrick right in the nose, making him stumble backwards clutching his face with a pained howl.

People scattered out of the way, some men calling out to Patrick, telling him to stop, but most were just encouraging the fight with drunken excitement.

Once Patrick got his bearings, he ran forward at full speed, aiming to knock Joel down to the ground but he dodged him with ease and instead sent him flying head first into an empty table. He rolled over with a groan, blood trickling from his nose, a bright purple bruise already forming under his eye.

Joel leaned over him with a grin.

"You done?"

Patrick just groaned again, his hands coming up to rub his head. Joel took the opportunity to snatch his wrist and twist him around on the floor. Pressing his knee into Patrick's back, he pulled his other arm around and handcuffed him before pulling out his cell and dialing the number for the station.

Once Joel loaded Patrick into the back of Bobby's cruiser, telling his deputy to book him and he would deal with it in the morning, the rest of the bar went back to watching the football game, the excitement now over and done with. Joel scanned around and found Nikki seated exactly where he left her, but she looked less than pleased. He sighed and pushed his way through the crowd, back to his date.

"Hey, sorry 'bout -"

"I think I'm ready to leave, Joel," she said curtly, standing up and snatching her purse from the bar.

"Alright," he said. He led her outside and was heading to his truck when she stopped in front of a waiting car. He turned to look at her, confused.

"I asked a friend to come get me," she explained, and Joel slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'm sorry 'bout tonight, but sometimes the job just gets in the way."

"Was it the job, Joel? Or was it her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused, unsure what to say as he averted his gaze. She looked down at her feet and took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to him.

"This isn't going to work out, is it?" she asked softly. Joel forced himself to look at her again and after a moment, shook his head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty. He took a step forward but she sniffled and stepped further away.

"I don't know why I couldn't see it. The whole fucking town sees it. Even after what happened at the coffee shop this morning... I just hoped..." she trailed off and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he truly meant it. He didn't want to hurt her and he felt like shit that it had to come down to this.

"It's fine. I'll get over it," she said, trying to sound strong before turning to her friend's car and sliding into the front seat. He almost reached out, almost asked her to stay, but he stopped because it would have been cruel and selfish. He was only looking to assuage his own guilt. Instead, he watched the car back up and leave the parking lot, a pit growing in his stomach now that he was alone.

He knew it was the right thing to do, that he had to be honest with Nikki. At least he didn't lead her on, and he hoped he didn't hurt her feelings too badly, but he still felt like an asshole.

Then his thoughts drifted to you. What happened today after the coffee shop? Even though the guy was an asshole, it didn't change the fact you were married and he couldn't have you. What was he supposed to do? Pine away for you his whole life? Would he really ever be content with just being your friend?

And what the hell was he going to do with Patrick? He could charge him with assaulting an officer, that should keep him in jail for a few days until he posts bail, but would he ever see any charges actually stick? Or would he make a few phone calls and have them disappear?

He didn't anticipate this ever being a problem. He's never had to deal with another lawman on the receiving side of his job.

He was entering uncharted territory.

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ruwriteshours · 9 months

Text

CHASING PAVEMENTS (PART I) 𓇼 (P.JS)

✎ PAIRING: park jisung x fem! reader

✎ GENRE: angst, smut, brother's best friend trope

✎ WARNING: !!sexual content!! (minors dni) fwb relationship, jisung is slightly an asshole, reader is naive, ambiguous ending, might do a part two???

✎ SUMMARY: In which jisung's derived thoughts leads him to an unlikely arrangement with chenle's sister, where he fucks up (quite literally) when he realises how deep in the feels he has for the girl he is suppose to show disinterest to, in honour of 'BRO CODE'.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: since a few of you guys voted for jisung fic, here it is! it def took longer than i expected but i hope you like this one! <3

part two

PARK JISUNG HAD NO BOUNDARIES.

A man with desired sexual hormones isn't one to back down on steamy hook-up sessions, especially ones which are deemed promising. However, he didn't exactly knew how to draw the line when he began banging his best friend's sister.

(He thanked the heavens that Chenle had gone out that night to not witness the sinister act.)

But to be fair, the male didn't exactly plan to go black-out drunk at their usual dorm party on that particular Saturday night just to wake up naked with his best friend's sister on his side of the bed.

Especially since it's the same girl who had a thing for the said boy since their childhood, so much so that it was excrutiating for Jisung to watch her poor attempts at making a move on him. Even Chenle was used to it and was completely fine with your lovesick crush for his best friend, from the way you would stutter around the boy or the fact you used to give him flowers every Valentine's day, knowing deep down that your little feelings would fade away eventually.

But now, it's different because it's no longer a one-sided pining from you, rather a completely mutual friends-with-benefits situation. Though, it's far fetch to consider you and Jisung to be friends. He was always disinterested in you and even with this new arrangement, he only seemed content with finding a buddy he could released his pent-up sexual frustations with. Despite this, Jisung wouldn't initiate anything other than sex, making it clear that his intention with you is strictly for his selfish desires. His dirty little secret to be kept from Chenle.

You, on the other hand, couldn't be more happy than to pass up the only opportunity to be closer to Jisung. It was silly for you to expect anything more, but this was better than nothing. Jisung had fuck boy tendecies, it was nearly impossible for you to make him stay committed. However, a part of you was determined to make him fall for you.

No matter how wrong it was, it seemed that both of you can't get enough of each other.

Which is how Jisung ended up in your dorm room on Wednesday night, currently his cock buried deep inside of you as you suppress your moans. His hand digging your inner thighs as he lift you up to get a better angle, half of your body up in the air.

Grunting in frustation, his hair glued to his forehead from the layers of sweat. Rounds and rounds of endless pleasure. You could tell his anger that was built up a moment ago, was slowly dissipitating from the way his thrust begins to slow down, pausing briefly to brush the strands of his hair back. The view making you squeeze around him tighter.

"S-Shit. Do that again." He demanded, his hand coming up to grab onto your tits harshly as he pushed himself further inside you.

Squeezing once again, you made an attempt to wrap your hands around his neck only to have it shoved aside. His hands clutching your wrist to prevent you from touching him.

"I'm close!" You mewled, hip trusting against his as you made an attempt to inch closer towards him— if that was even possible.

"Me too!" He groaned.

With one powerful thrust, the both of you reached the awaiting orgasm. His breath close to your face as you stared into his eyes, entranced with the way he looks. Biting your lips, you lean in for a kiss only to have his warmth ripped away from you. Standing up to get himself dressed, much to your disappointment.

"You're leaving, already." You asked, not wanting to sound too desperate.

The male could only give a brief nod, "Yup, I have to get back before Chenle suspects something's up."

But you knew it was bullshit. Chenle didn't care if his best friend didn't show up to their dorm late at night. It was normal in a college settings. You knew that he was coming up with an excuse to not indulge further and as much as that should give you a blaring warning in your ears, you were still as stubborn as ever.

"Okay! Get back safely." You said cheerily, watching as he quickly buttons up his shirt.

Getting nothing but a hum of acknowledgement as he made his way out of your dorm, not even glancing back.

Laying down on your dishelved bed, you could only have the same feeling of regret wash over you. You wonder why you would let yourself seek love from someone who clearly could not care less about you. It had been four months of never-ending sneaky hook ups and there was still no hope that he was semi into you. You were stupid for thinking like a child.

Perhaps, you could let this go once again.

Again.

WEEK ONE.

Sitting from afar, you watch in subtlety at the disgustingly appaling view from a couple feet away. There stood, Jisung smiling with such admiration towards NingNing, a girl whom he was talking to. Her giggles echoed through the cafeteria as his friends were teasing him from the side. The sight of the sweet interaction made your heart clench, ultimately feeling defeated as you had once again expected too much of Jisung to reciprocate his feelings.

Too indulged in your thoughts, you didn't bother taking notice of the pity looks you were received by your friends. Chaeryeong glared at the audacious boy while Yunjin patted your shoulder comfortingly.

"You should move on." Yunjin mumbled.

"Yeah, you deserve way better." Chaeryeong chimed in.

You could only offer a meek shrug, "It's probably nothing, guys."

But even your own voice couldn't believe the words, knowing well enough that it was hopeless to string onto a thread that was never held onto on the other end.

It was evident from your persistence that you were determined to hold onto the shred of hope that maybe, just maybe it could work. That those years of pinning would be worth it.

"You know the guy from Econ is totally into you." Yunjin spoke up, redirecting the topic.

You perked up but remained an uninterested expression.

"Oh, come on. I'm not asking you to fuck him or anything." She said. "Maybe try get to know him, he's really sweet."

"Are you talking about that guy that helped her carry her stuff to class." Chaeryeong voice raised excitedly.

"Seungmin? He's nice to everyone." You justified, dismissing your friend's exaggerated story.

"But he's more nicer to you." Yunjin rebutted, earning an agreement nod from your red-haired friend.

"And I may or may not have heard him talking to Hyunjin about wanting your number." She added.

You scoffed playfully, "Thanks but no thanks. The last thing I need is another migraine from boys."

That was the end of the conversation. Luckily, your friends didn't push you further, allowing the three of you to eat in peace before the bell rang.

Bidding 'goodbyes' to each other as you parted ways to your assigned schedule. In some twisted way, you were glad that you were sharing this one particular class with Jisung. Both of you having similar major. Feeling the excitement rush through you as you made your way to the class. Students swarming in, looking for seats as you watched around in hopes of spotting the black haired boy.

To your luck, he was seated near the window with an empty seat beside him. In queue, you made a beeline towards his direction, only to have another bag placed itself against the wooden desk. Slightly flinching from the sudden intrusion, you looked up and saw the same girl at the cafeteria. Her sun-kissed face contorted into confusion.

"Oh, did you plan sitting here?" NingNing removed her stuff, "I can mo-"

"No!" Jisung interrupted abruptly, standing up to hold onto her wrist. "Sit here."

You couldn't help but watch with dull eyes as Jisung completely ignored your presence. His eyes gazing onto the girl as both of them shared a look of something that held a cruelly familiarity; a look of mutual liking.

"I-It's okay, I can find another seat." You stuttered, turning around quickly and grab onto a chair that was available and plopping down on it without looking back.

Biting back your tears, you didn't notice that the whole interaction was being observed by your classmate. Some whispered among themselves while others ignored it as if it was some normal occurence. You didn't have shame left to be bothered by their comment.

It wasn't news that your crush for Jisung was evident. Everyone knew, and you didn't bother to hide it because you were happy to admit it. You would broadcast to the whole street for your undying love for the boy and not a glimpse of embarassment would overcome you. However, Jisung would only continue to ignore you, of course, only on the outside. Afterall, it would ruin his pride for the class to know what he did to his best friend's sister behind close doors.

Staring distractedly at your unwritten paper, it was as if today wasn't one of your best when your lecturer had called you out, waiting for your answer.

Gulping nervously as you looked around to see students watching you, wanting nothing more than to burn a hole through the ground.

Just as you were about to utter your response, a hand swiftly moved a piece of paper towards your table, giving you a chance to catch the answer, making you read it aloud.

Your lecturer gave you stern look, as if reprimanding you before moving on to the next portion of the lesson. You sigh in relief, turning your head to the side to thank the person who helped you.

Seungmin chuckled at your flustered state, waving off as if it was nothing. He went back to his notes, scribbling down a couple of words before sliding it back to your desk.

'You okay?'

You smiled and began writing down before handing it back to him discreetly.

'I'm good :)'

He stared at the note for a moment before writting down a couple of sentence. You glanced slightly towards him, not wanting to make it obvious and pretended to focus on the lecture. Not a second later, the same yellow note slid itself towards your desk.

'Good enough to give me your no?'

You giggled silently at his bold flirting before deciding to give him your number. It was harmless, anyways. You thoughtlessly scribbled down. Little did you know, your little interaction didn't went unnoticed by the black-haired boy at the back of the class, who had been glaring holes behind you unknowingly. A sudden vision of green clouded his mind, a feeling that he hated deeply.

Jealously.

Pounding furiously against you as you were pressed up against the door to the janitor's closet. The cleaning tools were left scattered on the floor as he kept pushing himself closer to you, his hands snaking itself around your neck making your hips arched towards his cock.

Jisung moaned deliciously at the contact as he began placing love bites down your throat, slowly turning you around only to hoist you up by the thighs. You gasped at the new position, your legs wrapping around his slim waist, his hand coming to find itself in your hands, trapping you completely.

Just as you were about to release, Jisung completely removed himself away from you. His hands made is way to the zipper of his pants as he tidied himself up, you were left shocked as you watched him crossed his arms, as if waiting expectedly.

"Finish yourself for me. I want to see how you make yourself cum." He demanded, his demeanor not changing even for a moment.

You were hesitant with your moves, which only angered the male above you. Grabbing your wrist as he guided it towards your wet cunt, you maoned at the harsh contact before he lets go. His eyes urging you to continue.

If it was any other day, you would have felt shameful but considering he had denied you pleasure, you were more than eager to finish. Quickening the pace on your fingers as you shoved it deeper, scrunching your face in pure bliss, watching the way Jisung eyes were trained onto yours. His hard-on was evident yet he was more focus on the view in front of him, not bothering to fix his big issue.

Just then, the sense of euphoria came and your hand were painted with the colourless liquid. As you were about to wipe away, his hands held yours, stopping you. Inching his face closer to your cum-covered hands, he stuck out his tongue to lick it clean off. Your eyes widened at his actions, not expecting him to act so scandalous.

Once he was done licking like it was some popsicle, he gargled the remaining liquid and swallowed it down as if it was something tasteful, letting out a content sigh. Without saying a word, he left the room to leave you in a confused mess.

WEEK TWO.

Ever since that incident, you were only fueled by the same feeling in your stomach, the heart-fluttering butterflies aching your vulnerable heart. That had been the most intimate he's been and you were only craving more for his affection which, unbeknownst to you, was only the beginning. His texts were now more engaging and he seemed to want to make time whenever he would get. Despite your friend's disapproval, you were blinded by Jisung's false hope. You had even forgotten about Seungmin, ignoring his message on whether you would be available to hang out. All your mind could think of was Jisung.

Only getting disappointment when he would go back to a cycle of ignoring your existence and talk to NingNing on campus.

Oh well, it's a progress at least.

Though that meant that you were playing a very dangerous game when Chenle began suspecting the marks on your neck that were very prominent. Thankfully, he wasn't one to be nosy, passing off insults before walking off.

"Yo, could you stop staring at Jisung." Your brother snapped you out.

You had conveniently left your keys inside your dorm room and your roommate was not able to come back home as she was visiting her parents, which only gave you the only option to bunk in with your brother and his roommates. You would've slept with your friends, if it weren't for the fact that the both of them hadn't been home as well, making plans with their boyfriends. Luckily though, the boys had been kind enough to set up a room for you, which in exchange, meant that they were all sleeping outside to avoid any awkward circumstances. Hours had passed and you were getting bored with their loud cheering in the living room, struggling to tug yourself to sleep, you decide to observe the commotion.

Even without facing your way, his gaze focused on the video game in front of him, he could sense your unbearing stares for his best friend. Chenle groaned when he lost against Jisung, Mark offering the younger a high-five while Haechan cackled at Chenle's frustatated expression.

"Could you like, not be so weird around my friends." Chenle turned towards you, his friends watching you as you blushed deep red, walking off in a rush.

"Your sister's kinda hot." Haechan spoke up, earning a smack from Mark.

"What! It's the truth. Jisung, you're kinda lucky."

Chenle gagged, "Don't make me throw up. She's a nightmare."

"Well, you're saying that 'cause it's your sister. If any one of us has a hot sister, you would've totally went for it."

"I'm not having this sick conversation." Chenle dramatically declared before making his way to the kitchen, Mark following suit to grab a snack.

"You're lying if you're not in the slightest bit interested." Haechan whispered, taking extra precaution despite being away from their earshot.

"Of course not." The younger denied.

"Sure." Haechan's voice dragged on, indicating that he wasn't convinced. "So you wouldn't be bothered if she was talking to someone else, right."

Haechan provoked, smirking when he noticed that Jisung's hand tightened around the console. Despite his calm appearance, the older knew he was bothered by that thought.

"Less of a headache for me then." Jisung focused his gaze on the screen, not wanting to give Haechan the attention.

The older, of course, didn't like that. "So, if Seungmin were to make a move on her. You would be fine."

"No!" He blurted out.

That was when he could see the older's smugness through the screen, backtracking himself. "I mean— yes, I don't care! Why are you so worked up over this." He accused trying to keep the facade that was already cracked.

"Yeah, like I'm the one with the beet red face." Haechan fired back, finding humour in his reaction, happy that he has successfully got through him. "Dude, you know Chenle would be okay with it, right?"

"Shut up!"

Jisung rolled his eyes before throwing his console towards the older, facing the screen in a attempt to cover up his embarassed face. His heart accelerating from getting caught by a loudmouth like Haechan.

Luckily his embarassment was cut off short when Chenle and Mark came back in with snacks on their hand.

"So, you guys going to Sunwoo's party next Friday." Mark munched on his chips.

The sudden silence as the group checked their schedule.

1:56 am

"Oh, shit! We should probably stop soon."

"Yeah, soon!" Haechan mumbled, too engrossed in his game.

"But you guys are going, right?" Mark confirmed.

Earning a collective hum before the four of them went back to their video game, reminding themselves that it was only one game and that they would go to sleep afterwards.

Newsflash: It wasn't one round of gaming.

Which is why the three of them ended up being knocked up in the couch, Mark's loud snoring annoyed Jisung as he twisted his body back and forth, groaning when he realised he couldn't sleep.

Suddenly, a devious plan came to mind. Removing the blanket off of him, he tip-toed towards the closed door. Luckily, you were still wide awake, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. You perked up when you heard the sound of the door opening, Jisung's head peeking in. Stepping inside, you knew what he was in for...

Morning soon kicked in, rubbing your eyes. You wrapped the blanket around your bare body tightly, looking to the side to find Jisung no longer by your side. Groaning from the slight ache, you made your way to the bathroom, which was thankfully connected to the room, sparing you the intrusion.

All of your classes were in the afternoon, which gave you time to prepare breakfast. It didn't take long for you to find some ingredients, which was thankfully, not expired, knowing how lazy Chenle would get in cleaning up his stuff. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes awakened the boys. Yawning aloud as they sat down, as if awaiting for their meal. You rolled their eyes before setting a stack in front of them.

"Mm, you're the best." Haechan moaned dramatically, taking a bite. Mark humming in agreement.

"Don't you guys brush your teeth?" You asked in disgust, ignoring his compliment.

"We usually brush after."

"Gross."

A noise of protest erupt, which made you laugh. Just as you were about to make another one, in came Jisung. The last to be awake.

"Ji, come try this. She's such a good cook!" Haechan praised.

"It's just pancake." You humbled yourself.

"Yeah, you can chill out. This taste like ass." Chenle called out, which made you glare at your brother.

"Well, give me then!" You held your hand out.

Chenle only took the plate further from your reach, sticking his tongue out in mockery. Annoyed, you grabbed the spatula and whacked him across the face. Mark and Haechan laughed as Chenle began to chase you around, threatening you with a string of profanities escaping his mouth. You retaliated further by shoving him away. The sight of bickering between the siblings made Jisung smile, finding you adorable... wait, what?

"No thanks." He mumbled, quickly changing his mood back before you noticed.

"Oh, by the way, you should check your phone. NingNing's been texting you." Mark informed.

You tensed at the mention of the girl, pausing you actions briefly.

"Oh, right. I'll check it later." He said dismissively.

"So, what's your status with her?" Chenle asked, panting slightly from exhaustion.

You pretended to busy yourself in the sink, tuning in into their conversation without making it obvious.

"I don't know." He replied dryly.

"Oh, come on. She probably likes you, you've been pinning her since, what, last year?" Mark prodded.

You didn't want to hear the rest as you quickly excused yourself, telling them you had to meet your friends. Grabbing your stuff as you dashed out, in a hurry.

"Dude, we totally forgot your sister likes Ji. Oh, she's gonna be crushed." Haechan pointed out, his eyes widened comically as he pointed at the younger.

Chenle was the one to speak up, shrugging, "Who cares? She'll get over it." Chenle patted Jisung's shoulder, "Besides, we should be more worried about helping him ask the hottest chick out."

Jisung awkwardly chuckled.

"Right."

The day passed by unusually fast and Jisung still hasn't gotten a text from you. Don't get him wrong, he hated when you would get too clingy and risk the both of you getting caught but you would have usually been online by the time he opened his messaging app. It was rather impressive that you would be able to know the perfect moment to predict when he would text you. However, this time, Jisung saw that you were active three hours ago. He didn't think too much of it and switched off his phone, redirecting his attention back onto the lecture. Passing by the day as per normal.

Little did he know, that you were sulking on the other side of campus. Chaeryeong and Yunjin sitting on either side of you as you began to overthink.

"I thought we were doing okay." You mumbled, pulling your hair out in frustation.

"It's not you. You know what Jisung is like, you can't blame yourself." Chaeryeong scolded.

Just then, you watched as NingNing made her way towards campus. Her head hung low as she was focused on her phone. You could see her smile brightly, indicating that she was probably texting someone. For some reason you knew exactly who it was from how giddy she was acting. A part of you felt guilty for being selfish.

"Do you guys think I should really move on?" You asked meekly.

The both of them shot you a deadpanned look, as if ridiculing you for asking a dumb question. But the they didn't get to answer when you sat up straight, as if a lightbulb appeared on your head. "You know what?" You stood up, "I am going to move on!"

"Really?" Yunjin asked excitedly, standing up as well.

"Yes! Afterall, he only arranged this ordeal to get over his one sided crush." You waved off.

"What!" Both of them yelled in unison. "Yeah," You shrugged as if it was nothing. "He even moaned the wrong name in bed but that's besides the point."

"And you're only telling us this now?!"

You looked confused, "I thought I told you guys already."

"Uh, no you didn't. You said you guys hooked up accidentally and that's what made him want to do it again." Grabbing your shoulders, shaking them vigorously as if she was trying to wake you up, "You didn't tell us he was blatantly using you as a rebound." Yunjin said in fury, having been shocked by the sudden discovery. Chaeryeong, on the other hand wanted to punch the boy whenever he is on sight now.

"I mean, at least he got what he wanted now." You smiled, "It's totally fine, I should be happy for him."

Your friends looked at you in pity as you try to remain cheerful, not wanting to break down.

"I say we should forget about him completely."

WEEK THREE.

A few days went by and you were out hanging with your friends. Though, it would be a lie to say you weren't tempted when Jisung were to text you. It has been days without your usual sessions but he wouldn't really push the matter further, making you think that he didn't really care. In fact, you swore you saw him walking with NingNing on campus the other day. That thought had lessened the heartbreak and you soon got better at ignoring him completely.

Little did you know that Jisung began to worry about your absence. Growing more annoyed when you refuse to look at him whenever the both of you crossed paths in the hallway, even when you shared the same class, you weren't as eager to sit beside him. In fact, choosing a seat that was far from where he could see you. But in Jisung's classic way of dealing things, he ignored it, thinking that he might be exaggerating and that you were probably busy, opting to wait for you to approach him. Like you've always have.

Which was why you were fine with going to a party with your friends, knowing that if Jisung were there, he wouldn't even make an attempt to be near you.

But boy, were you wrong.

To say you were uncomfortable was an understatement, but to be fair, you hadn't had the best experience with parties. The first time you had gotten black-out drunk that you threw up all over Yunjin (you apologised later on, of course) and was forced to go back home earlier, with a massive hangover the next day. The next couple of times were consists of awkward mingling, considering you weren't one to be social. You vow to never attend a party ever again. Of course, until a few circumstances had changed.

Now, here you are, standing awkwardly while your friends were having the time of their lives. They were quite experience with the whole lifestyle, while you, on the other hand, just watched with a forced smile and they greet other college students. The liquid in the red solo cup was left untouched in your hands.

Walking through the crowds, you had lost your path with your friends, leaving you alone. As you frantically look around you, a hand clasped onto your shoulder. Turning around, you saw a beaming Seungmin.

"Didn't know you'd be here."

"Never really thought this through." You laughed awkwardly, "I didn't know why I bothered coming here."

"Parties are not your thing, huh?" He concluded, grabbing your hand as the both of you went to a more quieter area.

You didn't answer because if was fairly obvious, instead asking him back. He looked away before giving you a cheeky smile, "My friend dragged me here."

"The one making out with that girl." You pointed, watching his blonde-haired friend, Hyunjin, getting handsy.

"Yup. That's him." He scratched his head.

A moment of silence takes place before you decided to speak up, "I'm sorry for ghosting you, by the way."

He perked up, "It's alright."

"No, I'm serious. An asshole move on my part."

"Well, I can't blame you. You seemed pretty smitten with Jisung." He said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah." You admitted, "But I'm over him now, well— in the process of."

He smiled, "Finally finding dignity for yourself, huh?"

"Hey!" You hit his arm, taking an offense at his words.

His laughter fueled in your anger but you soon find humour as you too, laughed along with him. And just like that, you spent the whole party talking to Seungmin.

That view alone made both of you appear to look like a couple, which was harmless. But in Jisung's eyes, it is deemed as a threat. Having had arrived an hour prior to the party, his gaze like a hawk as he eyed the both of you laughing away, ignoring Chenle's ranting.

"What have you been staring at?" Chenle moved his head towards the male, trying to match his view.

Just as Chenle eye's landed on your figure, he hummed in amusement, "Guess she finally got over you."

He joked, patting the male. But Jisung couldn't pick up on his words, not when he was fuming in anger.

Luckily though, Chenle got distracted by Haechan calling out to him, which served as a great escape for him to march towards you.

"You want to go outside?" He heard the voice of the sickening male, Seungmin's hands carressing your arms.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take you away.

Which was what happened, because the next thing you could register was a sudden pull on the arm, dragging you away. It happened to quickly that not even Seungmin could utter in protest, which resulted you getting sucked into the mysterious hand. You didn't put up a fight though, knowing deep down the hand that it belongs to.

You sigh, getting tired of Jisung's mixed signals and wanting nothing more than to end the madness once and for all.

He pushed you towards an empty room before making his way in, locking the door while he slammed it shut. His back was turned towards you and you could only let out a grumble of complaint.

"So you dragged me here to give me the silent treatment." You provoked, "If you want to fuck me, just get it done and over with."

He turned around, facing you with eyes you could never read. Jisung was hard to understand and you couldn't figure out what he was thinking at the moment.

"That's not what I want to do."

"Then what is it, surely it isn't to talk. We never talk anyways, we just fuck." You scoffed, "So, try again." You scoffed, taking a step towards him.

He grabbed his hair in frusatation, "I don't know— fuck! I don't know, okay!"

"No! It's not okay because I'm sick of you treating me like a side piece. You got yourself a girlfriend now so why the hell are you still with me!" You yelled out.

"Because I like you too!" He blurted.

You widened your eyes at the sudden confession. "I like you, okay? I always have since we were kids too and I got scared so I tried to get over you by talking to her. I didn't realise how far I have gotten."

You shook your head, "Well, that's the thing. You don't think, you just do. I have made it clear from the start about my feelings but you just use it against me to fuck! You have never liked me so don't you dare fucking lie to me!"

"I'm not lying." He took a step forward, which only made you back away in disgust.

He didn't made an attempt afterwards, his eyes pleading as he watched you shuffle away.

"Well, isn't that a fucking useful information." Your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fuck me then."

"What."

"You heard me, I said. Fuck. Me."

For the first time, it felt that you had the upper-hand. From the way Jisung seem to be more intimidated by your voice. You wanted him to feel the pain that you felt. Used like how he used you. You wanted to get back at him.

"If you don't, I'll leave."

That seemed to set a fire alarm in his ears because he was quick on his feet. His hand coming up to harshly grip onto your shirt to pull it off. You obliged, moving your hand to his neck to wrap it around his neck. With a quick tug, you pulled Jisung onto the bed, his back landed on the soft matress as you straddled his hips.

He groaned when you hastily reached his zipper, pulling down his cock. which slapped against his stomach in an instant. Veiny and red.

He was about to lean in for a kiss before you covered his lips, pouting slightly at your refusal. A smirk played on your lips as you whispered against his ear. "It doesn't feel nice, does it?"

He was about to utter your name when you began pumping his length harshly, causing him to let out loud moans.

"How pathetic, I haven't even started putting my pussy inside." You mocked.

Sliding your panties to the side, you guided his hardened cock towards your wet slick, quickly slammed your hips against him once it was slid in smoothly. Both of you moan at the contact.

Bouncing against him with such speed, you could only struggle to let out few whimpers as he held tightly onto your hips, urging you to move faster.

You could tell he was nearing from the way his grip tightened. You were sure that it would leave bruises the next day. However, that was the least of your worries as you removed yourself away from him. He groaned in frustation at the sudden loss of contact.

"Why did yo— ah!" He was interrupted when you began sucking him without warning. His noises began to grow increasingly louder, which only made you shove your throat deeper, determined to take him in completely.

He moaned aloud your name in ecstasy, finally being able to release. His load painting your mouth as you swallow it clean.

He was panting from the pure bliss, having had one of the best blow jobs he had ever gotten.

He watched as you began to clean yourself up, slowly putting on your clothes. "Wait— where are you going?" He asked, grabbing your arm to stop you.

"We're done here." You said coldly.

"But—"

"You got what you wanted. I hope you're happy so don't ever contact me again." You began, making your way towards the door.

"Consider this our last session."

And with that, Jisung was left shock. Sitting alone in a stranger's bed as he was left defeated with the fact that you were never going to feel the same way for him again.

He knew he had fucked up. Badly.

©ruwriteshours

#park jisung #park jisung imagines #park jisung smut #park jisung fanfic #jisung smut #nct smut #nct fanfic #nct dream smut #nct dream imagine #nct x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung x reader #park jisung fluff #jisung fluff #nct dream fanfic

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wileys-russo · 5 months

Note

Could you do leah williamson "why the worried faces, I was only asleep for an hour"

leah williamson

“i’m just going to physio babe.” you looked up from the floor as your girlfriend stood in front of you. “okay baby, love you.” you craned your neck up to meet hers in a sweet kiss as she ducked down.

“oh grow up you toddler!” you glared at kyra who was stretching beside you making kissy faces and noises, only poking her tongue out at you in response. “have fun babysitting.” leah chuckled, running a hand through your hair and sending you an amused smile before wandering off.

“oh how will you live without her? will your fragile little heart be okay pookie? aw come here!” you yelped as kyra launched herself at you, landing on top of you in a bear hug as you groaned.

“ky can you go one day without injuring or assaulting someone?” steph sighed from down the line, working out some tension in her hamstrings with the massage gun.

“no she can’t!” you moaned from beneath her, shoving her off with a huff as the australian just jumped right back on top of you. “steph!” you whined, too tired from training to even try and fight off the younger girl who continued to poke and coo at you.

“kyra!” the older australian called out in warning, handing off the massage gun to jen and standing to her feet. “get off her!” steph ordered sternly, hands on her hips as a few of the girls oohed at her strict tone.

“okay stuffy.” kyra grinned, smacking your cheeks playfully and pushing up off of you, instead attaching herself to stephs leg who threw her head back with a groan both at her actions and the nickname.

“get off me you gremlin!” Steph huffed trying to shake her off as you chuckled, just grateful to be rid of her as you hauled yourself to your feet and left the squabbling australians behind you.

“lunch?” lias arm settled across your shoulders with a grin, laughing loudly at the way your stomach grumbled merely at the mention.

“lunch.”

you frowned as once again you glanced toward the door, waiting for your girlfriend to come through only she’d still not yet arrived.

“she was just at the physio yeah?” jen clarified as you nodded, glancing down at the plate of food you’d kept her aside, her sessions normally only around an hour and it had easily been two now since the blonde had left.

“kyra!” you smacked away her hand as once again she reached for the plate of food, whining that she was still hungry. “she still hasn’t answered?” steph asked with a frown as you tried to call your girlfriend and it rang out again.

“okay fine! you’re so annoying.” you gave in with a huff, sliding the plate of food over to kyra whose face lit up as you stood from the table. “i think laura and tey had physio too, maybe they’ve seen her.” you shrugged and wandered off to the table where the two younger girls sat.

but unfortunately both of them confirmed leah had left after her session and before their sessions ended so they hadn’t seen her or knew where she went much to your growing concern.

thanking them with a frown you quickly made your way upstairs to the physio’s office, all three of them confirming leah had left over an hour ago intending to come to lunch.

at that information all of your worries increased and suddenly every little ‘what if’ scenario started to creep into the corners of your mind, your chest tightening with anxiety.

you sent a quick text to a few of the girls, sitting down to try and work on your breathing as you muttered to yourself all of the things leah could be doing which weren’t negative.

laura, beth, lia and jen arriving to help the five of you split up and started to search around the centre for leah, beth confirming her car was still in the carpark as the mystery thickened.

as more time passed more of the girls caught on and started to help, searching colney upside down for the blonde defender who’d seemingly disappeared into thin air.

you collapsed onto the sofa in the rec room with your head in your hands, alessia sat beside you and rubbing your back as all of the girls slowly arrived back all shaking their heads to confirm they were unable to find leah.

“i’ve called her mum, alex and holly. no one’s seen or heard from her!” beth frowned as your chest tightened even further and alessia pulled you into a hug.

“baby what’s wrong?” your head snapped up at the sound of her voice, your girlfriend stood hovering in the doorway with her headphones around her neck and concern in her features as she stared around the room.

“who died?” leah joked at the solemn vibe as you launched at her, the blonde grunting and doing her best to stay on her feet as you wrapped your legs around her waist and clung on tightly.

“where the hell have you been!” beth huffed with a glare in leah’s direction as you buried your face in her neck. “yeah! where the hell have you been?” you dropped down to your feet and pushed harshly at the taller girls chest.

“i took a nap! why am i suddenly on trial?” leah frowned in confusion as suddenly all of the girls exploded into chatter and leahs eyes widened in surprise.

“why the worried faces? i was only asleep for an hour.” leah laughed as most of the girls scoffed and started to file out of the room, squeezing you supportively and sending the dumbfounded blonde unimpressed glares.

“dare i ask why all the animosity? god i never knew a nap could be so controversial.” your girlfriend chuckled, looking between you and the other couple of her close friends who were left.

“we thought you’d gone missing! how did you not hear anyone calling out for you the whole team was on the hunt?” you scowled at her as she shrugged.

“had these on.” she tapped the headphones around her neck, whining as you punched her sharply in the arm. “hey baby! ow.” she pouted as you spun around to grab your things and the other girls did the same.

“you are so sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #engwnt #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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metallikha · 6 months

Note

Hey i was wondering if you could do a threesome with dad toji and brother megumi with ftm reader?

─────── ‥ `> INCEST

getting steamy with megumi in a small house with thin walls, you didn't really fancy that. most probably because your father was probably aware.

"mm.. meg'mi.. not too rough please.. ughh" you squirmed under his touch. back pressed against his chest and head laying on his shoulder while his fingers toy with your pussy. "im not even inside yet. stop whining" he lands a harsh slap on your pussy, making you yelp.

"h-he'll hear us -!" you covered your mouth, suppressing the moans trying to come out. "let him." he gently inserts two fingers inside you, then moving them in a scissoring motion. "can you please just,, put your cock in..?" you whine into hear, "no, it's been 2 months since we last fucked. you're tight as hell."

you accepted defeat, and endured his fingering you. "alright, c'mere baby" he lays you on your back, both facing the door. whoever comes it will be greeted with a surprise.

he pressed his lips onto yours and circled around your hole with the tip of his cock. threating to go in. "be a good boy and be quiet okay?" his tone sweet gentle, before going back to sucking on each others faces.

"now, what d'we have here? megumi? fucking your little brother?" toji walks in, looking like he's seeing something like that everyday. "y'gonna do something about it?" megumi slammed his cock in your cunt. earning him a loud moan and you arching your back, making you face toji.

"without me? that's not nice" toji walks towards you both, not even bothering to lock nor close the door. "huh.?" megumi looked at him with a confused and irritating expression. toji pulls out his cock and dropped it on your face.

his dick hard and heavy, smelling of sweat. "open wide sweetheart" you were caught off guard, not expecting your father to join in on fucking you. he presses the tip on your lips and without any warnings, shoved himself inside your hot throat.

you tighten around megumis cock. "fucking your own son? disgusting bastard" he glares at him, then begins thrusting his cock in your cunt. "'fucking your own brother? i could say the same about you brat." toji massages the growing bulge on your throat, and squeezing your nipples.

toji fucked your face, megumi fucked your pussy. you felt like you were caught in a trance, tojis balls slapping your face hard and your older brother railing your cunt. it's too much, the pleasure kept building up in your tummy.

you suddenly squirt on megumis abdomen, dirtying his shirt. your legs trembled and your hands gripped tojis thighs. megumi stopped for a while, checking on you, trying to anyway. "move" he shoved toji aside, and there you were. "aww, he passed out. that's no fun" toji fake pouted

"y'wanna fuck him till he wakes up?

─────── ‥

#jjk imagines #jjk smut #toji thirst #toji fushiguro smut #megumi fushiguro smut #ftm reader #m! reader #male reader #mettalikha's gallery

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hwayangyeon · 10 months

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nsfw bassist!heeseung x drummer!reader // heeseung and you sabotage your metal band's practices by constant fighting so jay tells you to fuck each other // smut, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, hate sex kinda, reader has a vagina, i don't know anything about metal, not proofread // 1k words

your band's practices have never been worse ever since a new bassist joined you. you disliked him the second you saw him, but for your group's sake, you tried to hide your feelings as hard as possible.

as a percussionist you usually start the songs and set up the pace, heeseung follows you right after but you just can't seem to synchronize. whatever you play sounds off, even for metal.

"why the fuck are you so fast? slow down, jesus. i can't keep up," heeseung complained after the 4th time you had to start over the song.

"speed up then? what are you doing with those slow fingers? fingering your mom?" you talked back to him and got ready to practice again.

"what did you just say?" he put his guitar aside and started walking in your direction with the angriest look on his face.

"enough," jay, your vocalist and leader, stopped him and stared at both of you, "you two - go to the bathroom and fuck each other. i'm growing sick of you"

"wha-"

"NOW. if jake and sunghoon don't get the chorus right, they just punch each other in the face and go back to playing. i don't want any more blood on my basement floor, so just go and fuck the shit out of each other."

you couldn't believe what you just heard. but, to be fair, it sounded better than having to deal with a black eye for two weeks. heeseung and you followed jay's finger pointing to his obscure bathroom.

the room was so small that you two barely fit in. unfortunately the ceiling lamp was still working (barely too) so you were able to see the black-haired guy's face. just looking at him makes you heat up.

"show me your tits."

"what?"

"do you want me to get hard, or no? or should i fuck you with your drumsticks?"

"fine," you hissed and pulled up your shirt. you don't really wear bras to your concerts, so you don't bother putting one on to practices. he cupped your breast and the sudden touch sent a shiver down your spine. he's... bold. his finger brushed against your nipple, causing an even bigger pool in your panties.

he moved his hand to your other breast. it was pretty rough from the past 2 hours of playing the guitar, yet it felt like he was melting your skin.

"not bad."

"shut up," you pulled your shirt down and pushed his arm away. there's no way you'd let him do that in any other situation.

"bend over," he said and pointed at the sink behind you.

"you bend o-" you tried to say but he grabbed your hips, turned you around, and pinned you to the cabinet, trapping you with his hands on the counter.

you really couldn't help but push your butt back against him when you felt his bulge poking you as he pressed his whole body onto you. for two people hating each other's guts, your bodies felt like magnets.

he shoved your pants and panties down, then took out his dick and wasted no more time. you were so wet. he pushed his member between your thighs and you covered it completely in your juices. your folds were so slippery, he could barely put his cock in your pussy.

"fuck..." you sighed when he finally entered you after teasing your entrance.

he wrapped his arm around your waist and leaned over your shoulder. a gasp escaped his lips as he thrusts his whole length in.

he nibbled on your neck as his cold jewelry pressed on your back. his face was covered in his hair and a few strands of yours but you could see in the fogged mirror that he's furrowing his eyebrows.

his hand moved under your shirt from your waist to your breast and he squeezed it as he kept pounding into you.

your bodies moved in unison, both of you wanting to fuck the other.

the feeling of his dick stretching your walls apart became so overwhelming, you could barely keep your head up.

"come for me," he whispered into your ear, seeing your expression in the reflection.

"i'm not... coming for you," you struggled to say back.

"what are you going to tell jay then?" he continued kissing and licking your neck, extremely close to the sensitive spot under your ear.

you only gritted your teeth, wanting to stop the moans coming out of your mouth. thank god the guys started playing something the second you went into the bathroom, or else they'd be hearing all sorts of noises your bodies are making. with the guy you can't stand. fuck.

you brought your hand up to his still sweaty from the practice hair and pulled on it with the little power you had left. it was either the lack of oxygen in this small room or him fucking you brainless, but your vision became blurry and him pushing so much onto you didn't help either. you were so close. both to fainting and to your release.

he rode you off your orgasm so well, supporting your tired body with his hand on your chest and arm gripping the sink. he rested his head on your shoulder for a second to catch his breath with you before pulling away from you and brushing his hair away from his face.

even though you were still a little dizzy you quickly picked up your pants and left the bathroom. you both awkwardly walked back to your spots. you sat on your drum stool and he picked up his guitar.

as if nothing happened you resumed your practice and surprisingly, everything went well.

so now, whenever you and heeseung started jumping at each other's throats, jay just yells 'bathroom.' and you two obediently go there.

after hotel.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #after hotel.#heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung smut #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #heeseung x reader

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farmerstarter · 10 months

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The Bachelors on their Wedding Day

Hi Hello have this short list of my little Headcanons of the bachelors on their wedding day. Hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!!🌷🤍

ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Alex :

🏈 Fiddles with his tie relentlessly and ends up ruining it. He runs to Evelyn to ask her to tie it up again. The only other thing he fusses over is his hair.

🏈 Alex keeps a rabbit's foot in his pants, wanting all the luck he can get.

🏈 Spent literal days writing his wedding vows. Ends up opting to wing it. It wasn't the most eloquently worded thing you've heard but it was sweet.

🏈 He gave himself a pep talk in his bedroom before the ceremony. You only know about this because George was complaining about how loud he was to you.

🏈 Dusty the dog is the mermaid pendant bearer, I decided.

🏈 Also, the song that plays during the wedding is the same tune from Alex's music box. 🥺

ʚ🪶ɞ ˚ · . Elliott :

🪶Beach wedding. You guys have a beach wedding. You've expressed your interest in one and Elliott, with the eager help of Willy, clean up the beach for your special day. Elliott's shoes would fill with sand but his discomfort is overpowered by his delight when he sees you all dressed up.

🪶 He reads you one (of many) of his poems about you. You later learned that he's got a whole book of poetry about you that he's been writing ever since you two started dating. The poem he read on the wedding day was the very first one and is the first page of the book.

🪶 He spent hours trying to make himself look good. Asking for Leah and Willy's input on what he should wear for a solid 3 hours.

🪶 Aside from him worrying over his appearance, Elliott is more excited than nervous. He's on the verge of creating a new chapter in his life with someone else. Gone are the days of his lonely shack and the empty (well, not as empty since you moved into town) beach. Honestly, to say that he's excited is an understatement.

ʚ🛩️ɞ ˚ · . Harvey :

🛩️ Gets awfully shy when reading his vows, stuttering his way through his words and being a blushing mess. He has no problem with the one-on-one check up sessions he does with the other villagers of Pelican Town, but to read aloud in front of all of them at once threw him off. But he kept his eyes on you and managed to power through it.

🛩️ He considered shaving off his mustache for the wedding at least twice. But he decided against the idea.

🛩️ Insisted that you eat Farmer's Brunch the morning of the wedding. Even during your wedding day, he wants to make sure you're feeling healthy.

🛩️ Holds your hands throughout the whole ceremony. Whispering apologies for how clammy his hands are.

ʚ🎸ɞ ˚ · . Sam :

🎸 He wrote a whole song about you and played it on your wedding day. He made it a surprise for you and the moments of him hiding his guitar and shoving music sheets under his bed when you visit his room were all starting to make sense to you.

🎸 Couldn't sleep for the whole night before the wedding. He worried over the ceremony and wanted to make it go smoothly. He's not one to meticulously plan every detail, opting to engage in spur of the moment decisions, but he tried his best to make everything as close to perfect as he can get.

🎸 Jodi tried to gel Sam's hair back, but no matter the amount of gel and hours, his hair would always spring back. Sam wasn't a fan of dressing up in a "dorky suit" but he did anyway, for you.

🎸 Sam didn't want to see you until the wedding so he got Vincent to play messenger for the two of you. He wouldn't do it at first but only agreed to do it because he likes you (Cue a dramatic gasp from Sam).

ʚ🐸ɞ ˚ · . Sebastian :

🐸 Ends up smiling through the whole ceremony, looking at you with such a brightness in his eyes.

🐸 He isn't one to wear anything fancy. The closest thing he ever wore that is considered formal was the suit that Lewis got him and the rest of the dancers to wear for the Flower Dance. He asks his mom to help him dress up for the wedding, asking her about it while she was building furniture. Sebastian doesn't want to admit it, but he liked watching his mom so happy over something that was so mundane to him. He makes sure to keep the suit in perfect condition throughout the ceremony because of it.

🐸 He tells his very heartfelt wedding vows. And while he does, you could hear the faint "that's good," from Elliott before a grunt, inevitably elbowed on the side by Leah.

🐸 You and him ride on his motorcycle after the wedding. He drives you two to the cliff overlooking the city, the same cliff where he confessed his true feelings to you. Under the full moon, the two of you would look at the stars with Sebastian occasionally pointing at a constellation that Maru taught him to find.

🐸 Consider: winter wedding.

ʚ🐣ɞ ˚ · . Shane :

🐣 Genuinely doesn't believe that you want to marry him. He thinks it's a dream at best and a prank at worst. It wasn't until you were tying his mermaid pendant around his neck for him to know that you do love him. He still has trouble understanding it sometimes.

🐣 Shane asked Marnie to teach him how to waltz for your wedding day. Sure, he's danced in the Flower Dance countless of times but he wanted to learn something new to surprise you. And he did. After dancing with you, he dances with Jas. Well, it's more of Jas standing on Shane's feet while he walks and glides around.

🐣 He gave his chicken, Charlie, a bow tie for the wedding and everything. Even got a picture of you and Shane with the little guy. The picture ends up being hanged on Shane's side of the bedroom for many years to come.

🐣 Has his pocket full of corn chips, let's be honest. He offers one to you before the ceremony starts.

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carlyraejepsans · 6 months

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Technically speaking, he was a light sleeper.

Which was just hilarious for two different reasons. One, he topped at twenty pounds soaking wet—and that was after he'd reached for the towel. The joke basically wrote itself. The other reason was, of course, that nobody believed him. Honestly, he could kinda get it. It's pretty hard for irony to escape him, even on a bad day. The way he saw it, though, maybe he wouldn't take as many naps as he did, if he just managed to get one to stick.

...heh, nah. Probably not. Late to rise, early to bed, makes a man lazy or clinically dead, or however the saying went. Still.

The kid stiffened against his ribcage and that was all it took for his eyes to fly open.

The popcorn ceiling of the living room stared back at him through the darkness in all its tacky glory. Now that's another joke that writes itself. It wasn't a movie night at Tori's without some comment about her taste in decor. That always earned him a round of groans. Or a halfhearted pillow to the head. It was one of his favorite moodsetters.

His hand dangled in the air at his side. Not on the floor. Just a few months earlier, that alone would've told him he wasn't in his room, but oh boy, had things changed. He had a bedframe now, not to mention enough self respect for one. AND fitted sheets—that was a lifetime first. You had to be careful not to fall off, but all things considered, it was the fanciest bed he'd slept on since he'd tried using his worker bonus at MTT's. If he risked falling off the bed now, he'd risked never finding his way out then. Not to mention the guy in the other room calling for room service the entire night. He almost retired the midnight snacks bit on Undyne out of sympathy the next time she came over.

Almost.

The kid's head twitched.

Right. Popcorn. Living room. Springy mattress. He didn't need to smoke a pipe to realize he'd fallen asleep on the sofa. Didn't need a goofy hat either to see that someone must've thought he'd make a good pillow. Go figure. He'd gotten real good at making himself look softer under his clothes, but still, it wasn't exactly the kind of magic a guy could keep up with his eyes closed and a pillow behind his head. He just hoped they weren't too uncomfortable.

He must've dozed off sometime after Papyrus left the house and Toriel turned in for the night, 'cause nobody had stopped by to throw a blanket over him. Most nights that would've been fine. Nice thought aside, skeletons didn't really feel cold "to their bones", on account of lacking all the soft and fleshy stuff on top of 'em.

Yeah, well. Most nights. Most nights he didn't have a human kid sleeping on top of him, either.

Sans looked down. He resisted the urge to blow a strand of hair out of their face.

Most nights, skeletons didn't have hearts beating against their ribs.

Ba-dum—ba-dum—ba-dum.

He would've asked them if it felt any different, having it beat on the other side of their ribcage, if they hadn't already crawled their way inside his months before.

Heh. Not like they hadn't done the same with everyone else. Or ever asked for permission, the little freeloader. But he supposed that part came free with being monsters. The whole HOPE and compassion and everything nice kinda shtick. As a rule, they were, uh, very prone to attachment. It was hardwired into their SOULs or something. Of course, he knew better than anyone that compassion had its cost, and he'd ran low on HOPE for a long, long while, but...

There was a ray of light coming through the kitchen at night like he hadn't seen in an even longer time. The kind with a moon and stars hung at the other end of it.

Yeah. Maybe he could afford something nice for once.

Frisk stirred again. He kept as still as possible as they wriggled around, pushing themself off of him—trying, he assumed, not to shove their boney little knees somewhere unpleasant.

Then they flopped to their side and fell to the floor with a thud.

See, THAT'S the kinda issue you don't have when you have no self respect.

Slowly, the kid got to their feet again. They stood perfectly straight for a moment, then took an unsteady step forward. Then another.

To call it "walking" would've been an act of mercy. It was more of an ambling. Maybe a shambling. Sans watched their journey towards the kitchen mentally listing of adverbs. Stumbling. Fumbling. Trailing. That one didn't have a mbl in it, points for originality.

Mostly, he was ecstatic. Nothing made for fun breakfast stories quite like sleepwalking. And well, he hadn't had one of those since Papyrus turned fifteen and stopped sleeping entirely.

When the kid finally reached the fridge, they all but shoved their head inside it. He heard them do... something in there. There were definitely teeth involved. He was about to ask them to bring some goods back to homebase.

The door of the fridge clicked closed.

He didn't.

Then, he almost made a joke about forgetting their headlights on, but thought otherwise. He was glad he'd left his own off.

Besides, it was the taillights that were supposed to glow red.

Eyesockets dark and still pretending to sleep, he kept watch as the kid turned around and retraced their shambling steps to the living room like a miniature zombie.

Halfway to the sofa, they stopped, making a small sound like a grumbling of annoyance. For a second their eyes grew even more unfocused.

"Sleep," they rasped out in a low, halting whisper, "I saved you a crick in the neck."

It took him a second to register that the kid wasn't talking to him. Mostly 'cause Frisk didn't speak. To him. Or ever.

By the time they reached their starting point again, his excitement had died off into quiet confusion and quickly curdled into caution. They stopped at the edge of the sofa and fixed him with a stare, looking at where they'd been sleeping before. Sans waited.

"I am not doing that," they rasped to themself again.

Then they climbed onto the other end of the sofa and curled around themself as small as possible. So tightly it looked like they wanted to tuck their tiny body into a ball.

When they stopped moving, they didn't move again.

Sans didn't lift a finger. His brain whirred in his skull, ready to chalk up the past few minutes to the sleepwalking and forget they ever happened. Staring up at the popcorn ceiling again, though, he couldn't shake off a wave of uneasiness; like he'd seen something he wasn't quite supposed to put together.

Any man would've spent the night awake.

He cast a glance at the kid, huddled in their corner. There was no heartbeat against his ribs now: something about the silence felt foreboding.

Sans closed his eyes.

Ten minutes later, of course, he was out like a light.

#i wanted to write more but it's! 5am. and I can't. lol. quality is about what you'd expect from an allnighter but i am excited about this #so i couldn't wait to post it #I'll check for readability in the morning ok MWAH. so hyped for where i want to take this #undertale #sans #mywriting #frisk #chara

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 months

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Mr. Right || Colby Brock || Part two

smut, 18+, minors dni

a/n: colby’s new mustache has got to go😭 enjoy!

Colby wasn’t sure if you were going to show.

He sat anxiously on the end of the hotel bed, tapping his foot. To the left of him was a bucket of ice with a new bottle of champagne on top, one he bought just for you.

It was admittedly expensive, but he wanted to do anything and everything to impress you.

You were a goddess to him, a bite of forbidden fruit he was never meant to taste.

Yet your curves, your whimpers.

They invaded his mind like a plague.

He couldn’t stop thinking of you. All of the filthy things he wanted to do to you.

Colby realized as he pumped his cock to the fantasy of you that all he wanted was to make you feel good.

And tonight he had every intention of doing so.

Your knocking on the door snapped him out of his thoughts, the brunette rushing to greet you.

He opened the door, hardly having a moment to glance at you before you darted inside. Colby raised an eyebrow, leaning out of the door frame. He looked both ways, ensuring no one was around.

You were silently impressed that Colby had such a fine taste for hotel rooms, considering his taste in clothing didn’t depict wealth.

“I purposefully chose a floor with no cameras to put you at ease,” Colby mentioned, shutting and locking the door behind him. You set your purse aside, sliding off your heels. You kept a calm exterior on purpose, not wanting to seem too excited or nervous about the entire ordeal.

You were sure that you weren’t Colby’s only girl and you didn’t want to leave the impression you were too needy.

“Out of context that sounds like you’re a serial killer you know,” You tease sarcastically, unbuttoning your blouse.

Colby’s eyes focused on you, soaking in your figure. A charcoal pencil skirt hugged your hips and a white button up shirt concealed your breast. He watched as your small fingers undid the buttons. You appeared to be just as eager as he was, even if you tried harder to hide it. He almost wanted to question the business get up, since he had figured you were a trophy wife.

He decided to push the thought out of his mind, deciding he would ask you later.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” Colby purred, striding over to you. You blushed at his sweet words, shrugging your blouse off and discarding it onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he towered over you, meeting his gaze. The energy in the room seemed to shift, your body becoming putty under his mere touch.

“You can do whatever you want to me, i’ll be good for you,” You whispered. Your words made Colby go borderline feral, his lips smashing into yours as his hands found your waist. He picked you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist out of instinct. He couldn’t get enough of your lips, your soft pink lips doing charity by dancing against his.

Fuck, you had no idea what you did to him.

His hands snaked down to your ass, readjusting you higher onto him. He lifted up your skirt, the fabric audibly ripping. You gasped and pulled away. “Colby! Those were calvin klein!” You whined, hitting his chest. In a swift motion he tossed you onto the bed, shoving your tattered skirt down your legs. “I’ll buy you a new one. Ten of them in every color if that’s what you want,” Colby panted. His boner was rubbing against the harsh fabric of his jeans, not making his feral thoughts subside any faster.

“But what I want right now, is for you to do as I say. Can you do that?” Colby asked. You nodded shyly, your face a visible light tint of pink. Colby grabbed your legs, dragging you to the end of the bed. He briefly glanced over at the bucket of champagne, forgetting it was there. A light bulb popped over his head, a devious smirk dancing across his legs. “Take off your bra and panties, let me see your body baby,” Colby told you.

You were so obedient it drove him insane, watching you scramble to obey his every command. Your panties and bra were discarded in seconds, Colby quickly taking note of the white lacey matching set you wore for him. He began to undo his tie, your curious eyes watching him closely. “Close your eyes for me,” He whispered, his voice deeper than usual. You nodded and did as instructed without question.

Something about Colby fascinated you. It wasn’t the lustful thoughts or the sinful fantasies.It was the simple fact that despite only having met a week ago, you trusted him entirely. It was as if he could read your mind. He paid close attention to your body and reactions, practically reading your mind. You couldn’t describe the feeling, the notion itself completely absurd.

But as Colby wrapped his tie around your eyes, blindfolding you, you knew these thoughts to be true.

“Lay back for me and stay still, can you do that?”

Colby reached into the bucket of champagne, pulling out an ice cube.

“Yes sir,”

You laid your back onto the soft comforter, spreading your legs.

Colby took a good five seconds to admire your body, before leaning forward. He brought the ice cube to your left nipple, the sensation causing you to jerk forward. “I thought I told you to stay still?” Colby asked mockingly. Your nipple hardened under the sensation of the ice cube, a whimper escaping your lips. “Sorry sir,” You mumbled. Colby switched the ice cube to your right nipple, popping your left breast into his mouth.

His mouth was warm, the sensation making you squirm beneath him as your other nipple hardened. You could feel the wetness growing between your thighs, your cheeks flushing a deeper pink as his tongue swirled around the bud. You were all hot and bothered over an ice cube.

The humiliation had fully crashed down over you as your hips bucked upwards, begging for friction. He released your breast with a pop, the cool air making you shiver. “Needy aren’t we?” Colby teased. He kissed down your stomach, dragging the ice cube after his strip of kisses. “Colby-” You groaned, throwing your head back. He hovered over your cunt, looking up at you.

“Hmm?”

“S-so c-cold,” You stuttered, goosebumps spreading across your skin.

Colby chuckled as he ran the ice cube down to your folds. You whimpered as he ran it up and down your thigh, before opening your folds and placing it on your clit. Your hips jolted forward, his other arm holding you in place. “You can take it, yeah? Wanna be good for me?” Colby asked. He studied your body, ensuring no signs of discomfort were visible.

“Wanna be good,” You babbled, your fingers raking through his hair. You pulled at his roots, the motion erupting a groan from his throat. He tossed the ice cube aside, licking a teasingly slow stripe up your cunt. You moaned loudly as his warm tongue clouded your mind, washing away the contrasting icy cold from moments before.

“You taste so good,” Colby praised, before diving into your cunt. He lapped at your folds like a starved men, determined to please you in the best way possible. Your back arched off of the bed as your thighs squeezed around his head. He brought two fingers to your entrance, slowly pushing them inside of you. Your walls spasmed around his digits, your body craving more than just his fingers.

“Colby, I want you,” You panted, vision still restricted by his tie. Colby smirked as he curled his fingers, pulling away from your cunt briefly. “Be patient, need you to cum on my fingers first,” He purred. He began to speed up his fingers, abusing your g spot as he pleased. He reconnected his lips with your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud.

You had no idea how intoxicating you were, your head thrown back and sinful noises escaping your lips. Your juices coated Colby’s chin and fingers, and he couldn’t care less. You could feel a familiar knot form in your stomach, one you didn’t want to form so soon. Colby made you feel so fucking good. It was beyond anything your husband had ever provided you, your body and slave to the state of euphoria he put you under.

Colby could sense you were about to cum, smirking as your walls tightened around his fingers. You felt your legs begin to tremble, your hips bucking upwards. You couldn’t even give your lover a warning, moaning his name as you came. Colby released your clit with ease, satisfied with seeing you come undone.

He removed himself from you, leaning forward and removing your blindfold. “Hi there,” He greeted teasingly, earning a smile from you. You grabbed his shirt, flipping him down onto the mattress. You straddled him, pulling him by his shirt towards you. “I need you, you fucking delinquent. You’re gonna give me what I want,” You growled. Your hands nimbly reached down to undo his belt and leather pants, shoving them down his legs.

Colby leaned back, cockily putting his hands behind his head. You raised your eyebrows as his cock laid flat against his stomach, looking up at his face. “What’s that face for?” You questioned. Colby shrugged, looking down at your dripping cunt. “Oh nothing, i’m just waiting for you to take what’s yours,” He replied.

You reached down and grabbed his cock, balancing yourself as you sank down lower. His shaft stretched you out much more than your husband, your thighs shaking as you moved your hips downwards. You threw your head back as you bottomed out, gripping onto Colby’s shirt as you adjusted to his size.

“Well would you look at that,” Colby muttered. You looked down, the outline of his cock visible through your stomach. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. “Is that safe?” You questioned, unsure of how to react. You had never been in this predicament, your husband no where near the size Colby was. The brunette chuckled.

“I guess what depends, does this feel good?”

He slowly lowered his hips, before pushing them back up into you. You groaned at the sensation, his cock rubbing against your g spot. “Fu-ck yes,” You answered. Colby grinned mischievously, leaning forward. “Lift yourself up for me, let me fuck you like the filthy slut you are,” He ordered. He traced your jawline with his thumb as you readjusted yourself on his knees.

In a swift motion he grabbed your face, forcing your lips to pucker out like a fish. “The fact you thought you could dominate me even for a second is cute, but don’t ever-” He began, rolling his hips into you slowly. He was going mockingly slow, ensuring you felt every single inch of his cock. “Ever, think you’re in control,” Colby snarled. The two of you locked eyes, your walls milking his shaft with every filthy word he spewed out.

“Fuck you’re hot,” Colby groaned, releasing your face. He hand slithered up to your throat, lightly applying pressure as he picked up the pace. You moaned loudly as he fucked you, the outline of his cock visible with every thrust he made. “Thats right, let everyone on this floor know who fucks you this good,” He growled, relishing in the sweet sounds of your uncontrollable moans.

His fingers tightened around your throat, your airway restricted as he provided you an addictive euphoria. “Colbs, fucking shit-” You babbled, unable to form coherent sentences. The nick name you spewed only made Colby pound into you harder, his thrust merciless. “You’re so pretty like this, you’re going to look even prettier full of my cum,” Colby groaned, testing the waters.

You grabbed his wrist, squeezing it for support as he abused your cunt as he pleased. “Please cum in me, I need it,” You begged. Your words were music to Colby’s ears, an irresistible smile dancing across his lips. He could feel your body tremble at the idea of being bred, the brunette feeling cocky. “Yeah? Want me to breed you? Make you mine?” He purred. You babbled words of agreement, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he fucked you.

“Please, i’ll do anything,” You begged. Colby smirked as he released your throat. “Go ahead then, ride me. Make me cum and i’ll breed that tight little cunt of yours,” He ordered. His thrust had come to a sudden halt, the knot that was previously forming in your stomach beginning to subside. In a panicked motion you began to ride him, pawing at his chest for support as you bounced up and down shamelessly on his cock.

Colby took the opportunity to grab your ass, squeezing the tender flesh as he guided you. “Look at that, riding me like a bitch in heat. You really are my personal whore, aren’t you?” He asked mockingly, the two of you locking eyes. You nodded, grinding down on his cock. You could feel your orgasm approaching, your grip on Colby’s shirt tightening.

“Fuck yes, i’m all yours Colby,”

“Then cum for me so I can make you mine,”

You lowered your hips one last time, your thighs trembling as your senses went white with ecstasy. Your high only got better as you felt Colby cum inside of you, coating your inner walls. His seed was warm as it filled your cunt, Colby’s cock still buried inside of you. The brunette slowly gripped your waist, guiding you off of his cock gently. You could feel his cum drip down your thighs as you sat on your knees, panting as you tried to catch some air.

Colby couldn’t help but admire you. Your hair was a mess, your lips raw and puffy. Your cunt was dripping his cum, your nipples still perky. You were beautiful. He leaned forward, lightly tracing your jawline with his thumb.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You were dazed as Colby carried you over to the bathroom, hardly registered him sitting you down in the bathtub. It was larger than you expected, the warm water beginning to puddle at the bottom. You brushed your hair out of your face, attempting to gain some decency.

“So,”

“So?”

“Does this delinquent know how to fuck or what?” Colby asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes, giving him the middle finger. The tub began to fill quickly, Colby reaching over and pouring a flower scented bubble bath into the faucet. He began to undo his shirt, heading towards the door. “Where do you think you’re going?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Colby turned around a bit more sheepishly than he would’ve liked.

“I don’t know, thought you’d want space,”

His words stung, a reminder of the fact your dynamic was nothing more than a sex filled affair. You brushed off the stinging, deciding you wanted him to be near you. Even if that meant shoving aside your ego.

“Shut up and get in the tub,”

You had never had intimate moments like this with your husband. You laid against Colby’s chest, your shoulders relaxed as he washed your hair from behind you. He worshipped you, his fingers currently occupied by scrubbing and massaging your scalp. He was so gentle with you, a dramatic contrast from the way he was moments ago.

You couldn’t believe you had put your ego aside enough to be in this position, your eyes fluttering shut as Colby bathed you. He placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, soaking in the privilege of your presence. You both had lost track of time in that bath tub, both of you rambling on about your drastically different lives.

Colby, whose last name turned out to be Brock, had a bit of a social media following. You didn’t realize Youtube was such a popular social media platform, your time mostly spent on facebook or instagram. You had a responsibility to support your husband to the public eye, one that couldn’t be ignored by watching internet videos. He told you all about Sam Golbach, a blonde headed friend of his who you learned he’d rather die without.

You couldn’t help yourself, you began rambling on about your own life. The yoga classes, how often you cooked, your current beef with your maids. You liked that Colby listened intently, asking questions and paying attention. You felt like the center of the universe, droning on about your life and useless husband. Time seized to exist, until it came to a halt.

Your eyes opened to see the sun rising over the horizon, the opened bathroom revealing the orange and pink skies. “Fuck, I have to go soon,” You muttered. Your husband would be waking up in an hour or so, undoubtedly going to question your absence. Colby noticed the hint of sadness in your voice as he washed the suds out of your hair.

“Let me finish washing your hair, okay?”

“Okay,”

You would take any excuse to be around the delinquent you couldn’t resist.

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

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jflemings · 3 months

Text

— third time’s the charm

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: your family of two becomes a family of three

a/n: based on this anon!

since you’d gotten out of bed this morning you’d been feeling like shit. despite your efforts you couldn’t seem to keep anything down, even something as plain as flavourless crackers and water. at first you just thought you’d managed to catch a bug from work but the longer your day went on, the more you started to doubt that.

which left you here, rummaging around under your bathroom sink for the pregnancy tests you know are kept here. you sigh deeply as you finally lay your eyes on the pink, white and blue box before grabbing it and practically ripping it open.

everytime you got sick jessie would insist that you take a test and everytime so far, those tests had turned out negative. jessie’s face had dropped when you shook your head and held out the negative tests to her before she had said that it was fine and that it would happen eventually. all you could do was smile sadly and nod along with her optimism, grateful for the fact that she wasn’t prepared to give up on the idea of the two of you becoming parents.

that’s why you didn’t say anything to her this morning when she left for training. you didn’t want to get her hopes up again incase the two of you didn’t get the result you wanted for a third time.

despite this, jessie’s voice had been constantly nagging you throughout the day; you could hear her in the back of your head insisting that you just take a test.

you reluctantly sat on the toilet and peed on the stick before putting it aside and setting a timer on your phone. you didn’t even bother leaving the bathroom, choosing to sit on the cold tiled floor of your bathroom and scroll mindlessly on your phone.

you’re halfway through watching a guy incubate python eggs on tiktok when the alarm echoes through the room, shocking you so bad that you almost drop and smash your phone. your heart is beating out of your chest — both because of the loud interruption and because of the pee covered piece of plastic sitting on your counter — as you pull yourself up on shaky legs.

at this point you’re really feel like shit, your hair is in desperate need of a wash and all you want to do is crawl into bed with jessie as soon as she gets home. you carelessly pick up the test and lean on the counter expecting yet another negative, already preparing yourself for the disappointment that’s inevitably going to come.

only it doesn’t.

two very clear, very red lines stare you back in the face. not one clear line and one faded, not two barely there, no.

two opaque lines.

you can’t think of anything else to do other than scream and push yourself off the counter, hitting your foot on the toilet with a painful yelp. you’re crouching down hold your throbbing foot with one hand and holding the positive pregnancy test in the other when jessie all but falls into the bathroom, almost taking the door with her as she stumbles in with wide eyes.

“are you okay!” she exclaims loudly “are you hurt, why are you on the ground, what the fuck is that in your hand!” she continues to babble on as you sit there shocked.

you look up at her with teary eyes “jess”

she sees the pregnancy test and crouches down next to you, softening her eyes “oh, babe, it’s okay–”

“jessie no!” you talk over her whilst shoving the test in her face.

she falls back in her haunches and takes the plastic stick out of your hands, holding it delicately in her own. her jaw goes slack and she looks to you teary-eyed “this is real? actually real? you’re pregnant?”

“i’m pregnant” you all but whisper to her “we’re having a baby”

the canadian’s head falls into her hands in disbelief, tightly covering her face before you reach for her. you grab her wrists gently and reveal her already tear streaked face “we’re having a baby”

you nod and wrap your arms around her neck tightly as she sobs into your shoulder. you run your hand up and down her back comfortingly, leaning all your weight into her body “why are you home early? i didn’t even hear you come in” you question softly

she hooks her arms around your back and grips at your t-shirt “you didn’t call me back” she mumbles into you breathlessly “i saw you were sick this morning so when you didn’t call me back i came home to check on you”

you pull away from her and wrap her ponytail around your fingers, the soft brown curls lacing in your hand effortlessly “is that why you almost took the door off it’s hinges?” you laugh tearfully.

“i was worried! you were so pale this morning a-and you didn’t eat breakfast or have a cup of coffee” the midfielder defends hurriedly, her glassy eyes showing you exactly what she’s feeling “i wasn’t expecting to come home to this, though”

you tilt your head “third time’s the charm, yeah?”

jessie smiles and grabs your face, running the pads of her thumbs over your face as she kisses you passionately “yeah”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming blurb #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso blurb #woso x reader #woso fic #jflemings woso #jflemings writes

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ashwhowrites · 7 months

Note

Eddie Munson x Carver! Reader, the two of them went to Chrissy's Halloween party, and they flirted with each other all night, Jason saw that and didn't like it. Reader invited Eddie to another Halloween party, and Jason was much more angry at Reader. Eddie and Reader spent the night together, and Jason accused Eddie of doing smth satanic to Reader, but Reader was like: Jason's dumb, ignore him, Jason used the cheerleaders to hurt his sister, and at the end Eddie and Reader stayed together, and ignored Jason. (Maybe you could write angst, fluff and smut in this?)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Happy October

Angst ✔️Fluff ✔️Smut X

The cult

Y/N and Eddie have been into each other for a long time. Yet, neither had the confidence to make something happen out of it. Anyone could tell that they were head over heels for each other, including Y/N's brother, Jason.

Jason hated that his little sister seemed to be into the freak of Hawkins and he planned to stop anything from happening.

Tonight was Chrissy's Halloween party, and Y/N was excited to spend her time with Eddie. She felt gorgeous and sexy in her costume and she hoped Eddie thought the same.

Throughout the night, the flirting seemed to be more involved than ever. It almost seemed as if both were ready to turn the flirting into something more. Their bodies moved closer to closer, her hand on his arm as he whispered in her ear. Jason kept a close eye on them and disliked how close they truly were. Eddie's nose was practically hitting hers and Jason had a feeling he was leaning in for a kiss.

Jason snapped into action and yanked Y/N away. She groaned as Jason ruined the moment. She was seconds away from finally kissing the boy she's had a crush on for ages and her brother had to ruin it.

"Look, I don't know what Satan shit you pulled to get her interested in you but I'm not going to let it happen. She won't be part of your little cult." Jason spat but Y/N rolled her eyes. She shoved Jason aside with an annoyed sigh.

"Don't listen to him. He's an idiot." Y/N spat, grabbing Eddie's hand and leading them out of the party. Jason tried to follow behind but lost them within the crowd.

Y/N was grateful to have lost Jason in the crowd, hiding in Eddie's van as they continued to talk. She felt butterflies in her stomach as Eddie kissed her. His lips were soft and warm. Her body was on his lap as his hands worked up her skin, and goosebumps filled her body. His hands were soft as he traced shapes into her hips. Her hands tangled in his hair as the kiss got more heated.

This was the exact way she wanted to spend her night.

~~~

Even though last night ended amazingly, Y/N wanted to take Eddie to another party. A party she knew Jason wasn't attending since he had prior plans.

Her head was still hazy from making out with Eddie all night. She could still feel his tongue and hands. She put together a random costume and ran out to his van. A smile on her lips as she jumped into the seat.

She didn't know that Jason overheard her phone call to Eddie. She didn't know that Jason had a plan to mess things up even more than the night before.

~~~

Y/N and Eddie were sitting in the backyard. The party was loud all around them, but they were focused on each other. His hand nervously held hers as he talked about his band. He adored how closely she listened and how she nodded after every sentence. He felt warm knowing someone was so interested in what he had to say. And that she didn't believe a word her brother said.

"I'm gonna go get another drink, I'll grab you something." Eddie offered, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her lips. His hand was removed from hers as he held her chin. She felt the buzzing inside her body as he pulled away. A simple fast kiss had the power to take her breath away.

She smiled as he walked into the house, giggling when he turned around to see her watching him walk away. He sent her a wink before he walked through the doors.

She couldn't help but finally feel so free. Spending her time with Eddie and without the watchful eyes of her brother.

Y/N has been pining for Eddie since last year. Ever since she embarrassed herself by falling off her bike. She remembered the panicked look on his face as he raced over to her. His gentle hands helped her stand up. She didn't talk for a minute, lost in his puppy eyes. She swore she'd never seen someone as handsome as he was. His face was sculpted flawlessly and she didn't know why she's never seen him before.

Even a year later, she still looked at him the same way. Completely smitten with the boy. She hated that it took them so long to kiss and have alone time together, but Jason was always a step ahead of her.

A few more minutes passed and she grew a little worried about Eddie. She stood up and dusted herself off. She grabbed her belongings and headed inside. She looked into the kitchen to see if he was there but she didn't see anything. She wandered around the party, but couldn't catch a single person that looked like him.

She walked down a hallway and spotted two drinks on a table near the bathroom. She walked closer and it seemed to be her cup with the lipstick stain she left on it. Did he go to the bathroom?

She crept closer to the bathroom door, seeing it was cracked. She swung it open and saw the back of Eddie's head. But he wasn't alone.

She saw manicured hands over his shoulders. He was kissing some girl.

"Eddie?" Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe it was just another boy with the same curly hair. Then he pulled back and turned around.

The same panicked look in his eyes. Dark purple lipstick stained his lips, not the red she placed on his lips just moments before.

Y/N felt her eyes burning as quickly turned away. It sounded like she was underwater, his voice ringing in her ears but she couldn't make out the words. She raced outside, feeling the tears falling.

She didn't notice she slowed down until she was turned around and smashed into someone's chest. She knew it was Eddie and tried to wiggle out of his arms.

"JUST LET ME GO!" she cried, she felt like an idiot. She waited a year for something to happen, just for less than 24 hours for him to forget about her.

"ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE!" He tried to explain, keeping his grip on her no matter how many punches she threw to his chest.

"SHE KISSED ME! SHE KISSED ME!" Her punches grew weaker as she sobbed. "She kissed me," Eddie whispered, feeling Y/N weaken in his grip. Her energy gave up as she cried.

Y/N scoffed and pushed herself away from him.

"And what? You kissed her back!" She argued, shoving his chest as hard as she could. Eddie stumbled back but regained his posture.

"No! I never kissed her back. I was pushing her away! Then I heard you call my name before I could get her off of me!" Eddie explained.

"Oh please. And I'm supposed to believe that? You were in the bathroom together!"

"She spilled my drink! I filled out drinks and she ran into me. I went into the bathroom to clean my shirt and she followed me! That was all. We were cleaning our shirts and out of nowhere, she kissed me. I don't even know who she is or anything. But please believe me. I'd never hurt you and I'd never cheat on you." Eddie pleaded.

But Y/N didn't know what to believe.

"Not like you're cheating. We aren't even together. You are allowed to kiss whoever you want." She said, trying to sound nonchalant but she knew her previous reaction showed how much she cared.

"No, don't do that. Don't make it seem like we have nothing going on." Eddie said, his tone snippy as he glared.

"Do we? We kissed and made out in your van. But did we talk about what it meant? No. Did we talk about how we feel? No. We did just as much as you and that girl did." Y/N argued, her arms crossed as she glared back at Eddie.

"I thought it was clear how we felt about each other," Eddie said sadly. His voice was barely over a whisper as his eyes softened. "Do you think I kissed you and didn't mean anything behind it?"

"I don't know, Eddie. Okay? We've been going back and forth for over a year and we have gotten barely anywhere. Are you dragging this out until you find something better? A fun fuck you to my brother?" She accused. She tried to keep a hard face on but she could feel the water returning in her eyes. Her insecurities are now on her arm.

"Not. This has nothing to do with your brother. Look, I've never been good with words. I've always done things with actions. And I thought kissing you showed you how I felt. I'm sorry for not saying anything and I'm sorry for taking so long to finally show you how I felt. But if you need words, I will stand here and tell you that I like you so fucking much. I love talking to you. I love kissing you and feeling your heart race against my chest. I've not stopped thinking of you since we met. I'm sorry for not giving you what you need and letting you down." Eddie apologized, his eyes sincere and soft.

She felt a small smile on her face. She couldn't lie, finally hearing him say those words made her heart jump out of her chest. He said all the words she prayed he'd say.

"Why didn't you ever say anything before?" She asked.

"I was scared. You are a Carver and your brother hates me. He has a whole vision of me being a devil worshiper and that I could cause you so much harm. In a way, I'm scared others will think that. And that no one will think I deserve you and I'm out to ruin you. I didn't want you to lose relationships because of me. But last night was the perfect moment to kiss you and I couldn't pass it up. I knew how difficult things could be but I've denied the idea of us for a year because of fear. I'm not going to let another year pass without making you mine." He confessed.

That's all she needed to hear.

She grabbed his jacket by his chest and yanked him in. Her lips crashed on his. He was fast to wrap his arms around her, his right hand holding the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

Once they pulled away for air, she smiled.

"I really want to be yours. I don't care what my brother or my family is. I don't think you are evil or going to hurt me. I like you and I want to be with you." She confessed, her forehead resting against his as he smiled down at her.

"Welcome to the cult, baby girl." He teased, leaning down to kiss her again. She giggled against his lips.

Jason's plan failed, Eddie and Y/N were too strong to let each other go without a fight. Eddie was scared to let her down, but God he was more scared to never have her.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff x female reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites halloween #ashwhowrites #Eddie Munson Halloween fic

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hollandorks · 1 year

Text

fright

battinson! bruce wayne x gn! reader

summary: in the midst of investigating a drug that kills people with their own fear, Bruce is drugged.

**not affiliated with middle of the night**

a/n: I'm back with something new, finally! I've been wanting to write this for a while, just for fun, because the battinson brain rot still hasn't gone away in over a year. Hopefully I'll be doing more oneshots from here on out! I tried to make this reader as gender neutral as possible but if I slipped up anywhere let me know so I can fix it!

word count: 7081

The abandoned subway station is cold and damp but comfortingly familiar.

Alfred had simply waved you downstairs to get started on your work while Bruce was out on patrol. That was one thing about constantly being around a vigilante–it turned you into a night owl, the changes almost imperceptible until you can no longer fall asleep on your own before two in the morning, even in the comfort of your own apartment. Sometimes you aren’t sure if it was because you’re used to working late on your nights working with Bruce…

Or if you couldn’t fall asleep until you knew Gotham’s vigilante was home safe again after another night.

So since you’re a night owl these days, you’ve taken to doing your work in the darkest parts of the night, comfortable with commuting after dark. Though Alfred and Bruce both insisted on you keeping a guest room in Wayne Tower when you work late, as neither of them are comfortable with you walking Gotham alone at night. Sometimes the city’s resident vigilante watches over you, but for those other times–those other times you stay in the drafty room set aside for you, one floor below Bruce’s bedroom.

You aren’t sure you’re supposed to know where Bruce’s bedroom is, exactly. But unbeknownst to the man himself, you’ve helped Alfred twice now haul his huge frame to bed when he’d passed out from either exhaustion or severe injuries. And as it was, it never came up in conversation that you had seen his bedroom, the space just as cluttered as the subway station belowground was.

You wouldn’t admit, either, that may or may not have snooped. His bedroom was neat, but organized in a way only his mind seemed to understand, the same as where he kept everything Batman-related. The bedroom closet was full of dark colors and clothes that were at least a decade old, and a full row of the black work boots he preferred to wear with his armor, some scuffed and torn beyond recognition, a couple of pairs almost new.

It isn’t a secret, exactly, but you knew Bruce well enough by now to know he probably wouldn’t like that you’d seen his bedroom without permission.

It’s his bedroom you think of now as you sit down to work at your designated desk in the abandoned station. The space was less lived in that the basement around you. Did Bruce prefer the bats for company? Or was the tower above too full of ghosts for him to face? Either way, he spends more of his time downstairs than up. There’s even a ratty secondhand couch shoved to one side where he seems to do most of his sleeping. You’ve seen him crash there more times than you could count.

You stretch already-cold fingers and boot up the multiple computer screens that have become yours even though you only own the laptop.

You’ve been working with him for a few months now, the connection pure chance, as most things in your life were. Your move to Gotham, your skill with computers, your meeting with a kevlar-covered vigilante. It was all chance, a force you believe in almost as much as you believe in gravity.

It had been a beautiful night that night, which really should have been your first clue that it was all going to hell. You were taking a simple walk to clear your head after a long day at work. You’d hated the corporate job you were working at, which was, ironically enough, at Wayne Enterprises.

That night was the first time you were acquainted with Gotham’s dark, violent underbelly. It was also the first time you met the man you’d thought was simply an urban legend–the Batman, a shadow turned savior at the moment you thought it would all be over.

He’d disappeared as your thanks rose to your lips, swallowed up by the night before you could utter the words.

The second time you met Batman was by chance, too. You’d gotten some information on a crime and, well, you had done the not-so-smart thing and used your computer skills to follow the lead.

Batman had followed the same lead through different methods.

Showing up at the same place at first led him to suspect you, but once you’d pulled out your laptop and proven how you’d gotten the information by using Gotham’s surveillance cameras to track the assholes down, he was curious. He wanted you to show him exactly how you’d done it. He’d revealed his curious mind to you that night, and that was the first piece of him you developed a crush on.

The sharp jawline didn’t hurt, either.

You smile to yourself as your fingers work over the keyboard to the computer in front of you. These days, he has you scouring surveillance cameras, police scanners, and internet forums for leads on cases. You also have your not-so-legal hacking skills to accomplish those things. And that’s in between the research you do on current cases. Not to mention the extra work you do behind his back to keep Batman’s identity from ever getting out–not that he needs to know that, not yet. It’s mostly deleting everything you can get your hands on that discusses his possible identity, whether it’s really far off base or a little too close to home.

It’s a lot of work, but you love it. You’d barely given it a thought when Bruce–before you’d known his identity–had asked you to help him. You’d said yes before the question had been fully finished.

Tonight, Bruce is staking out the seedier parts of Gotham trying to track down a new drug. At least, you think it’s a new drug. Several people have turned up dead, their features marred by their own hands, with something unknown in their bloodstreams. The medical examiner said it seemed as if they had all been…frightened to death, the levels of cortisol and adrenaline in their blood sky high.

Right now you have your computers working in the background to monitor police chatter, any hints from the dark web, and anything else you can think of to track down the source of the drug. While the program works to search for keywords and phrases on one of your three monitors, the other two screens are split between all of the ME reports and the information on each victim and real-time video feeds from every camera in the city you can get your hands on.

Bruce doesn’t know that you’re trying to watch his back while working the case.

You worry about him, even though he’s probably the most capable person you’ve ever met.

The third time you’d met him he’d shown up at your apartment bleeding everywhere. He hadn’t even known he was bleeding everywhere. He’d gotten into a fight while tracking you down to get you to use your skills on another case and simply ignored his injuries in favor of keeping his goal.

Luckily, a few days earlier you’d sliced your finger open while cooking and had some of the weird liquid bandaid stuff you’d been using. There’d been a ghost of a smile on Bruce’s face when you’d run and gotten it for him. He’d thanked you softly, and then gone back to being all-business as you worked on the gash on his arm. As you’d bandaged the cut, he told you about the case he was working, and how your computer skills would really help him out.

He started turning up more frequently after that, asking for help on cases. Until the day he’d asked if you wanted a permanent position helping him–paid and everything.

And now here you were, in his innermost circle, allowed to know everything about him. At least, as much of everything as he let anyone know.

Your computer pings right as Bruce grunts over the comms. It’s another thing he might not know about, your nightly tuning in to the comms as he goes out. Not that you aren’t allowed, but it’s something you won’t admit to unless directly questioned.

You sit up straight so fast it sends your desk chair rolling backwards. Fumbling for the edge of your desk to pull yourself forward, you frantically click through tabs to figure out where the alert was coming from.

A connection.

Your breath leaves in a rush as you scan the information.

Then you’re scrambling back for the comms, flipping the mic on, and trying to string a coherent sentence together.

“I found a lead,” you finally manage. It sounds like he’s in the middle of a fight. Oops. You push on, knowing he can hear you even if he can’t respond. “They were all patients at Arkham Asylum at some point. And they all were treated by the same doctor, Jonathan Crane.”

Bruce starts cursing. There’s a strange hissing noise over the comms. You lightly shake the computer, trying to figure out the source of the static.

“I know,” he finally says. The hissing has stopped, but now there’s a new noise. A familiar noise. The sound of his motorcycle revving to life.

“Wh–how?” you say, unsure how he found out before you did.

There’s more cursing and the sound of the bike speeding up.

“I’m–shit.” He coughs. “I’m on my way back. Tell Alfred to–” His breath stutters for a moment. “I don’t–”

“Please tell me you haven’t been stabbed to death,” you say with more bravado than you feel. With one hand, you text Alfred to come downstairs with the first aid kit.

But the comms have gone silent. Bruce is breathing heavily, the only way you know he’s still there.

“Where were you hit?” you ask. “What street? How bad is it?”

No answer. Bruce makes a noise that raises every hair on your body.

It sounds like he’s…afraid.

You scramble to pull up every feed you have and find out where he’s been so you could see what happened.

In all your months knowing him, you’ve never heard Bruce make such a noise. You’ve never heard him afraid like that. Something about it raises every hair on the back of your neck.

You search camera after camera on the streets of Gotham, looking for any sign of Bruce at the moment he said he was on his way back. You curse quietly to yourself, the sound of Bruce’s motorcycle engine through the comms filling the echoing space around you.

Then–there. Grainy as all get out and the only angle is available from a building across the street. But it’s him–there’s no denying the hulking shadow that is the Batman. He’s helping someone, a woman who appears to be screaming though the video has no audio attached. She thrashes and hits at Bruce, seemingly hysterical.

Then she goes utterly still. You realize that it was about this time where you flipped the comms on to listen.

Someone steps out of the shadows of the alley in front of them and there’s a sudden small cloud of fog.

Bruce darts away, hopping on his motorcycle as the figure moves fully into the light. He–because you can see now that it’s a man–looks down at the woman dead on the sidewalk. Then his face tilts upward and you see why Bruce said, I know.

It was the doctor himself, the one who’d been treating all of the dead patients.

Jonathan Crane.

Even with the shitty quality, his face is a clear match for the identification photo linked to Arkham.

You immediately save images of the video for Gordon to see. Here’s the proof you need–this and the Batman’s testimony of an attack surely are enough to at least get Crane investigated properly.

Hopefully.

The small printer starts to spit out the pictures as the roar of a familiar engine abruptly cuts off in the tunnels outside of the station.

You straighten.

“Bruce?” you call out uncertainly. Normally he comes tearing in, hopping the motorcycle up on the ramp to be worked on and showing off a bit as he does it, or parking haphazardly near his work tables so he can get straight back to work. In the months you’d known him, he’d never stopped outside of the station for any reason.

Your heart is somewhere near your feet as you tentatively step forward.

“Bruce?” you say again, this time much quieter.

You’re suddenly yanked backwards off your feet as a gloved hand presses against your mouth. You squirm, panicked, trying to get away. You lament all the times you refused Bruce’s self defense lessons.

“Shh, be quiet,” a familiar voice says.

You relax all at once.

It’s Bruce.

Even through his armor, you can feel his heart pounding rapidly. His breath comes in sharp gasps that he struggles to keep quiet.

He lets you turn in his arms. His eyes are wild, panicked.

“Where are you hurt?” you murmur quietly. Your eyes track over every inch of him. There’s no blood that you can see, but he’s still in his all-black armor and you’re both tucked in the shadows near the hangar door that opens into the tunnels. You probably wouldn’t be able to see the blood if there was any.

Bruce is still panting like he’s been running. “They’re coming,” he whispers. You frown. You already checked all the cameras from his route home and the security cameras in the tunnel. He came in alone.

There’s a quiet noise somewhere in the distance, probably just a bat going to bed for the day, but Bruce yanks you close against his chest and whirls with one fist raised.

Now you’re afraid, too. Has someone followed him all this way and you missed it somehow? Has someone found his inner sanctum? Are you both in danger?

Another noise startles you both.

The elevator descending.

Bruce’s eyes are wild beneath his mask.

“It’s Alfred,” you whisper, but Bruce seems not to hear you.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he murmurs into your ear, dragging you along with him into the recessed shadows by the elevator. You stumble along, still tucked against his side, the feeling of his breath on your ear lingering and making you shiver. Even though you’re afraid, you feel safe. “We’ll get you help, I promise.” You’re not sure what you need help with, but you remain quiet.

Bruce has always protected you, whether he knows it or not.

He physically protects you, sure, watching your back as the Batman, keeping you safe in a city as turbulent as Gotham. But Bruce also has always looked out for your mental health, too.

There have always been nights where things are just…bleak, whether or not for any particular reason. You withdraw into yourself during those times, much like Bruce himself does. Somehow he always, always knows how to draw you back out. Sometimes it’s a quiet joke, sometimes a request to help him with something, sometimes it’s only his quiet company as he sits and works next to you.

So even now, as you fear every moving shadow, every noise, thinking someone might be coming after you…

Even now, you know you’ll be safe and protected with Bruce.

It’s part of why you love him.

Not that he’d ever know that.

“Stay put,” Bruce says into your ear, making you shiver all over again.

He pushes gently on your shoulders in a stay put motion and steps away on silent feet. Even now his grace surprises you, even after months of watching him, being around him. He is a wonder to behold, a massive shadow that becomes weightless in a single breath. It’s like he becomes incorporeal at will, turning into shadow and smoke before he strikes.

The elevator gates rattle open and Bruce leaps.

Alfred is on the ground, first aid kit scattering to all corners of the station with a clatter, in barely a blink.

“Bruce!” you half-shout, the instinct automatic. Your voice overlaps with Alfred’s, the echoes sending the bats into a frenzy overhead.

Bruce goes utterly still, one fist raised like he’s going to hit Alfred. Alfred of all people. He flinches at the bats but his focus is on Alfred.

Alfred is as calm as ever despite the figure looming threateningly over him.

“Are you alright?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”

“Alfred,” Bruce chokes out and the sound is agonized. He seems paralyzed. “I’m sorry, I was too slow–”

The three of you don’t move.

You approach slowly. “Bruce?” you say softly, like he’s a wild animal backed into a corner. Because that’s what he looks like–wild, feral, and most of all, scared. You think of the ME reports and have to bite your lip to distract yourself from the fear that brings.

“You have to–you have to tie me up,” Bruce says, his arm trembling like he’s holding himself back. “He dosed me with–whatever it is.” His eyes dart around the space.

You straighten as if shocked. “Dr. Crane did?”

“Yes, he–” Bruce flinches and then refocuses on Alfred, still beneath him and as calm as ever as if it were an everyday experience. “Oh God. No, no, no. No. I’m sorry.”

Then Bruce does something even more shocking.

He sobs.

You startle as if a gunshot has gone off.

You’ve never heard Bruce cry. You’ve never even really seen him sad. Angry, sure. And frustrated. Those seem to be his two main moods, other than generally quiet. The happiness is rare, but you’ve seen that too.

But you’ve never, ever heard him cry.

“Bruce?” you say again, uncertain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he groans. “I couldn’t save you, I’m sorry.” He scrambles away from Alfred. His eyes are still wild, darting every which way, his expression frantic under the mask.

Your brain works quickly through all the evidence you’ve been digging into.

“It’s making him afraid,” you tell Alfred as the older man gets unsteadily to his feet. Bruce whirls and throws a punch, but there’s nothing there. “Whatever he was dosed with, it’s making him afraid.”

What you don’t tell Alfred is that this drug most likely scared the other victims to death.

Your heart pounds with enough fear that you wonder briefly if you’ve been dosed too.

“If he’s like this, he won’t react well to being tied up,” Alfred says, but he starts moving efficiently, pulling zip ties from Bruce’s belt as he fights invisible foes.

In one swift movement, Alfred grabs Bruce’s wrist, kicks him in the back of one knee, and grabs the other wrist.

You gape as he tightens Bruce’s hands behind his back even as he thrashes.

“No!” Bruce shouts. “Let me go! I have to get there before it’s too late! No!”

“How did you–?” You stare at Alfred with your mouth open slightly. Alfred is a man of many hidden talents, apparently.

“We need to get him more secure,” Alfred says, still calm as ever. And maybe, with as long as he’s been around Bruce, this sort of thing is normal. You’ve only been around a few months–Alfred’s been around since the beginning. You wonder just how many times Bruce has gotten himself into messes like this.

Alfred grunts as Bruce tries to get away. Apparently, Alfred’s strong, even with an old leg injury. You hold the man in high esteem but it just gets higher as you watch him.

“Tell me what to do,” you say as you straighten your spine. Bruce needs you, and that’s all that matters. You need him to make it through the night–that’s your focus right now.

“See if you can calm him down long enough for us to get him upstairs. His bed should be sturdy enough for us to tie him to.” Alfred grunts and manages to shove Bruce back to his knees as he rises.

You quickly kneel in front of Bruce and take his face in your hands. “Bruce? It’s me. It’s okay. Alfred and I are okay.”

Bruce’s eyes roll around without focus. His breathing is even worse now, each breath rasping out of his chest, his whole body heaving with it.

You try to push the memory of the crime scene photos out of your mind. Bodies twisted with fear. People who were dosed with whatever this was who died scared out of their minds.

You’re terrified for Bruce, but you push it away.

“Bruce, please,” you say, softer now, fingers pressed tightly against his cheeks. You can feel the slight scrape of stubble on your palms.

Bruce’s brilliant blue eyes finally meet yours. “No,” he says and the desperate word is like a bullet to your heart. His whole body strains towards you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t die.”

“Bruce, I’m okay,” you say. Your hands fumble before gripping the mask and pulling it off. Bruce cringes away. “I’m okay, I’m not dying.” Your fingers card through his hair. Damp with sweat, it sticks up with the movement. Bruce leans into the touch, and his breathing seems to ease slightly.

“Y/n,” he mumbles. His eyes close for a second.

“Bruce, let’s get you upstairs,” Alfred says in a low voice.

Somehow, the pair of you get him up, hands still tied behind his back, and into the elevator. Bruce keeps repeating his apologies, every sound from his lips pained and terrified.

“Alfred we need to–to get the drug out of his system somehow, if we can. I don’t know what else to do.” You whisper the words because you’re worried about setting Bruce off even further. You hold tight to his armored elbow.

“I can get an IV started once we get him settled, that might work.” Alfred furrows his brow. “Y/n…how bad is this drug? What have you found in your research?”

You hesitate, staring up at Bruce for a moment. His arms jerk in their restraints, but there’s nowhere for him to go in the small space of the elevator. “I don’t know how many people were dosed with it and survived,” you finally admit.

Alfred goes still and stares at you while absently wrangling Bruce back into the corner. “How many died?”

“I don’t know. Five, I think. Three for sure. Bruce watched a woman die from it right before he got hit in the face with it.” You chew your lip. Your eyes fill with tears as you meet Bruce’s anguished blue eyes.

“Then we will do everything in our power to keep him alive,” Alfred swears. “After he’s secured, I’ll get the IV started first and then we’ll make sure to monitor his vitals. If it gets too bad…”

“He won’t be happy if he has to go to the hospital,” you say, but part of you wants to insist that you take him anyway.

“No!” Bruce shouts as the elevators open.

You don’t know what he’s responding to, but suddenly he’s frantic again, whatever slight semblance of calm he had in the elevator abruptly gone. He aims a kick at the wall and somehow leverages his bound hands in front of him.

Alfred curses and shoves Bruce against the same wall. He braces the younger man with his whole body but his bad leg trembles.

“Go get the medical bag!” Alfred says. “We need to sedate him.”

You pause. “But what if something reacts with the drug?”

Alfred curses again. “There’s nothing else to do. We’ll give him as low a dose as we can and keep an eye on him. Go!”

So you run. Your feet slip over dusty hardwood floors as you scramble as fast as you can for Alfred’s medical bag. The bag is full of everything Alfred might need in a Batman-related emergency in case Bruce couldn’t make it home or even upstairs. The first aid kit is for general injuries–this bag is for when things go to hell.

It feels as if hours have passed in the short amount of time it took to grab the bag. When you reach the elevator again, Alfred and Bruce are gone. You can hear them in Bruce’s bedroom now and hurry towards them.

“Get his other arm!” Alfred says as he handcuffs one of Bruce’s hands to his massive wood headboard.

You scramble up on the bed and over Bruce to do as Alfred says.

“Let me tie you up, Bruce,” you say gently even though you aren’t sure he can hear you. “Please,” you say as he fights your grip. He’s so much bigger and stronger than you, it’s nearly impossible to even get the handcuffs on his wrist, let alone connected to the other side of the headboard.

“Alfred,” you say around a grunt. You’re fully straddling Bruce now but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s seeing things that aren’t there. It sounds like he’s having an asthma attack, he’s breathing so hard and wheezing so much. God, what if he stops breathing and passes out from his panic?

It takes several more minutes of you and Alfred both yanking on Bruce’s arm–because damn is he strong–before he’s finally, finally secured against the headboard.

You immediately start taking off the armor on his arms as Alfred preps the IV. You sit on Bruce’s legs to stop his incessant kicking, murmuring soothing words to him the whole time. You and Alfred will both be covered in bruises tomorrow, but you don’t even notice any pain at the moment.

Bruce freaks out when Alfred sticks the needle in his arm. He shouts wordlessly and thrashes so hard the bed moves away from the wall. You curse under your breath and get off of him.

“Hold this arm as best you can,” Alfred says.

“Who knew he could cause so much damage while handcuffed?” The joke comes out wobbly, though, your worry seeping through your words. Even leaning all of your body weight on Bruce, he still makes it nearly impossible for Alfred to get the IV in.

You both breathe a sigh of relief when it finally goes in. Alfred works quickly and efficiently, still the perfect picture of calm even though he must be freaking out as much as you are–if not more.

After another minute, Bruce relaxes marginally. He stops trying to escape and settles back into the pillows, still awake and staring with wild eyes around the room. Every so often he jerks one of his restraints, as if testing them.

You blow out another breath.

“I’m going to monitor his pulse and blood pressure,” Alfred says as he pulls the necessary things out of the giant medical bag. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him until the drug passes through his system.”

You nod, staring down at Bruce, feeling utterly helpless. How are you supposed to fight someone’s own mind? There’s nothing you can do that isn’t being done already–and there’s still no guarantee Bruce will survive.

As quick as it comes, you shut the thought down. Bruce will make it through this, even if it kills you.

You finish undoing his chest plates and set them to the side. You brush Bruce’s hair back from his face.

“You’ll be okay,” you say solemnly. “You’re too stubborn to die, and Alfred and I are too stubborn to let you.” When you look up, Alfred is frowning at the blood pressure machine and the pulse oximeter on Bruce's finger. “What?”

“Talk to him again,” is all he says.

You raise an eyebrow but turn back to Bruce. “Who knew Alfred was so strong, huh?” you say, aiming for lightness, but the words seem to fall short.

You reach out and smooth his wild, dark hair.

Alfred’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “I think you calm him down, my dear.”

It’s your turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

“Whenever you talk or touch him, his pulse drops a little and his breathing gets easier.” Alfred gives you a knowing look.

Alfred’s the only one who knows about your crush on Bruce. He’s told you, repeatedly, to admit your feelings, but you’re too scared. Bruce is so far out of your league it’s laughable. Just because he trusts you enough with his secret doesn’t mean he feels the same way you do. Bruce has so few friends–his only two are, in fact, you and Alfred–that you know he opened up simply because he could. Bruce needed a friend, a confidant, a partner. You were able to give him that. That’s all.

You stare at Alfred then, resigned, climb up over Bruce to sit by his head.

“How about a scalp massage?” you ask Bruce. “Because apparently it makes you feel calmer.”

Alfred chuckles. “His mother used to do that. Rub his head to get him to sleep or to get him to calm down when he was upset.” The older man softens as he stares down at Bruce.

Something inside you melts. You reach a slightly trembling hand out and run it over Bruce’s head. You feel for a moment like you’re taking advantage of him. You never get to touch him like this, to simply watch him, and you relish it.

“Here,” Alfred says, handing out a small package. “For the black around his eyes.”

You take a wipe with your free hand and gently rub at the makeup on Bruce’s face. Both of his arms jerk against the restraints at that first touch. He starts panting hard again.

“The blood–” he says with a pained moan. “The blood–”

“There’s no blood, Bruce,” you say. Each touch is careful, gentle. “Everyone’s alright.”

But he keeps yanking at the restraints. His wrists underneath his long sleeve shirt are turning redder and redder with each movement.

“I couldn’t save them,” Bruce says around a small sob. He stares at you but you don’t think he actually can see you. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t save them.”

“Save who?” you ask with one final swipe of the wipe over his eyes.

“My parents. Alfred.” A tear slips over his cheek. “You.”

“Alfred and I are alive, Bruce,” you say as you sit back on your heels on the bed. You carefully reach over and tug each of his sleeves over his wrist underneath the handcuffs.

But Bruce doesn’t hear. “Stop!” he shouts at an unseen foe. “Don’t hurt them!”

His sleeves have ridden up again, exposing his wrists to the handcuffs. You can see a small bit of blood on the wrist closest to you.

Alfred hands out a bandage. “This should help.”

You each bandage a wrist even as Bruce continues struggling. His pleas fade to pained noises that rip your heart out each time.

“We should give him more of the sedative,” Alfred says. He rubs a hand over his face tiredly. “Where are the autopsy records? Maybe I can find out what this drug contains and see if there’s anything we can safely give him.”

“They’re all at my workstation downstairs.”

“I’ll be right back,” Alfred says. He hurries off, his limp even more pronounced now.

Bruce continues straining against the handcuffs. His face is red with effort, his chest still heaving, the veins on his neck sticking out. He brings his knees up and leverages himself so his back smashes against the headboard. It creaks and groans.

Whatever Alfred gave him must not have been enough. He’s just as frantic as he was before. Except now he’s trying to break his wrists and the headboard at the same time.

“Stop that,” you say calmly even as your heart pounds. You wouldn’t put it past Bruce to snap the entire thing trying to get free. You run your fingers through his hair again. He immediately settles somewhat, his tugs on the handcuffs slightly easier.

You decide to use both hands and give him the promised scalp massage. The longer your fingers work through the tangles, the more he seems to relax. You glance at the small device on his finger. His heart rate is still too high, but it lowers slightly at your prolonged touch. It’ll have to be good enough, you decide. Anything to keep his heart from giving out.

When you look back up, Bruce is staring into your eyes.

“I thought–I couldn’t be afraid anymore,” he says quietly. He seems more lucid now. Maybe the dose wasn’t that strong. You silently pray to all the gods and entities that might listen that it’ll be over soon. “But seeing you die–” His breath catches in his chest. “I couldn’t save you.”

“I’m here,” you say. You wish you could take his fear and pain away, but there’s nothing else you can do. “I didn’t die.”

Bruce makes a noise in his throat that you can’t comprehend. “It’s my–worst nightmare.” His eyes close. He grimaces.

You keep trying to sooth him with your fingers in his hair. “You’re hallucinating, Bruce,” you say. “I don’t know if you’re able to tell what’s real right now, but all the bad things? Those are hallucinations.”

“You’re real,” he murmurs softly. His body is a lot more relaxed.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m here. I’m real.”

Alfred bursts back into the room, laptop tucked under his arms. “I think we can give him more.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No, but if this doesn’t work…He’ll need an ambulance.”

“He seems a lot calmer,” you say. Bruce’s eyes are still closed but he hums. “I don’t think the dose was very strong. He probably took the guy by surprise.”

Alfred injects something into the IV, and Bruce’s body goes slack after a few moments. Alfred checks his pulse and blood pressure for several quiet moments, watching each of them improve slightly minute by minute.

“That should do it,” Alfred says. He brushes a hand over his salt and pepper beard. “You can go on to bed, my dear.”

“No, I’ll–I’ll stay, keep an eye on him. You go.” You expect him to argue, but Alfred nods and leaves you alone with Bruce.

Now that things are calm, all of your fear and adrenaline start to fade. Bruce isn’t completely out of the woods yet, but he’ll make it. You think.

You think back to the surveillance video you saw. Dr. Crane was likely experimenting on the woman who died when Bruce showed up–and used whatever drug he had leftover on him. So it was likely it hadn’t been a full dose, especially with the way he seemed to calm down some.

It was lucky. Extremely lucky. You think about the way the force of chance, of luck, has worked in your life so far, and can’t discount this instance either.

When Bruce wakes up, you’ll give him all of the evidence he needs to get Dr. Crane arrested. You’d call Gordon now, but it’s so late it’s early. It can all wait until you know for sure Bruce is going to be alright.

Exhausted, you lean back against the pillows next to Bruce. You glance around and can’t help but laugh at the situation. Here you are, in the place you most want to be–in Bruce’s bed–in the least romantic way possible. You don’t even have permission to be here. Bruce will probably ask you to leave once he’s in his right mind again.

You turn your head to watch Bruce sleep, your own eyes heavy. You want to undo the handcuffs, but you’re afraid he’ll wake up in a panic again. Better to leave them on just in case.

Without meaning to, your breathing syncs with his. You watch his chest rise and fall and try to let the motion comfort you. You glance at the little device on his finger again and feel even better when you see that his heart rate has calmed significantly. It’s still a bit high, but it isn’t in dangerous territory anymore.

You always knew being Batman was dangerous. You’ve seen him come back injured a thousand times. A couple of times he was half-dead. But something about this was worse. Maybe because it isn’t an actual injury–it’s his own mind fighting him. His worst nightmares come to life. Bruce is the strongest person you know and seeing him brought low is like…a physical blow. It was terrifying. Bruce had always seemed so…untouchable. Like a man who was never afraid.

His fear is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Your eyes slip closed as you watch him breathe. His bed is startlingly comfortable. You half-expected Bruce with his martyr complex to sleep on a brick. But this bed…this bed is definitely the kind of bed a billionaire would own.

You wake with a jolt sometime later.

Bruce is watching you. His breath catches and he lets out a long sigh. He closes his eyes and seems to gather himself.

When his eyes open again a second later, they’re wet.

“I thought you were dead.” His voice is rougher and lower than usual, like he’s been screaming. The sound of it scrapes over your skin like sandpaper.

“I’m not,” you say, still struggling to shake off the cobwebs of sleep. The room is dim. You were pretty sure the lamps had both been on but now only one is lit–and you have a blanket over you now too. Alfred must have come in at some point.

“I know, but–” He takes another deep breath. The handcuffs rattle as he shifts. “For a moment, I didn’t know if it was real.”

“What did you see?” you ask slowly. You see the handcuff key sitting on the nightstand closest to you and grab it.

Bruce shies away from you. “Don’t unlock me yet. I don’t–I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Bruce,” you say. You soften towards him. He’s scared again, but it’s different. You don’t know if it’s a leftover effect of the drug or if it's his propensity for self-flagellation, but he’s afraid of hurting you. “You won’t hurt me. You didn’t even hurt me when you were drugged. You protected me. Granted, it was from nothing, but…” You flash him a smile. He doesn’t return it. “Have you been awake long?”

He ignores the joke and the question, eyes staring into the middle distance. “I saw…every variation possible of the people I love dying,” he finally says as you unlock the wrist closest to you. He groans quietly as he stretches the arm out. He must be in a lot of pain from having his arms lifted for so long, but he says nothing. “I saw myself killing you. Or I saw someone else hurting you because of me, to get to me. You kept getting hurt and I was always too late to stop it.” He’s breathing hard again.

You can feel his breath on your face as you lean over him to unlock the other handcuff.

He catches your wrist and keeps you close, staring up at you. His lashes are long and dark, his blue eyes bright as stars. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away, even in his disheveled state. You still aren’t used to the sight of him.

“Y/n, do you hear what I’m saying?” he says, voice almost anguished.

And your brain finally catches up.

I saw…every variation possible of the people I love dying. I saw myself killing you. Or someone else hurting you because of me, to get to me.

You suddenly can’t breathe. People I love.

“Bruce–” All the other words get caught behind his name.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and yet again you aren’t sure what he’s sorry for. “But seeing all of that–I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to you without knowing…all of it. The way I feel about you. How badly I–” He shakes his head and presses his lips together.

You want to pinch yourself. You’re still asleep, right? There’s no way in any universe that Bruce Wayne feels for you like you do for him.

But he’s including you in the list of people he loves.

You’ve been silent for too long, still hovering over Bruce. His eyes shift away, a wall coming down behind them as he shuts himself off.

“I just…wanted you to know. That’s all. I won’t mention it again.” There’s a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “It’s okay if you don’t…feel that way about me.”

“Bruce,” you say again, softer this time. You sit back a little. “I–I’m sorry.” He deflates a little, rubbing one wrist absently. He still isn’t looking at you. “I’m not really good with words, but I want you to know I feel the same way about you.” His gaze snaps to yours. You can feel heat creeping up your neck to settle in your cheeks. “I was so scared last night. I thought–all the other victims we knew about had died and–I couldn’t handle it if you died, too. You are…so important to me.” Your voice catches slightly.

He reaches for you, calloused hands soft as the touch of a butterfly wing against your cheek.

“Please tell me this isn’t the drug,” he says after a long moment.

You grin. “It isn’t. It makes you scared, remember? Are you scared now?”

He smiles back. The sight of it steals your breath. “I’m terrified.” But his smile only grows wider.

You lean down, very slightly, going slowly so he has time to change his mind. Because it still doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel possible.

But Bruce stretches his neck up and closes the gap between you. His lips brush yours and you feel a relief so complete you want to melt into the bed. His other hand comes up to join the first and he cradles your face like you’re something valuable, something breakable, something to be cherished.

As his lips move against yours, your entire body seems to say, Ah, I’ve been waiting for this.

His mouth parts slightly, an invitation that you quickly take. His hands are still careful against your face, but one of yours fists around his shirt.

When you pull away, you smile at each other.

“As much as I want to stay here like this,” you murmur with another kiss pressed quickly to his mouth, “I think we should get Gordon to arrest Dr. Crane as soon as possible.”

Bruce sighs but nods. “You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

He laughs. “And maybe after that’s done with…we can talk more.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. “Of course. We can talk and kiss.”

Needless to say, it takes a long time for you and Bruce to get up to contact Gordon.

#battinson x reader #battinson x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #batman x you #the batman #the batman 2022 #the batman x reader #the batma fanfic #fright #fright fic #bruce wayne #battinson

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ynbabe · 5 months

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Fake texts au- pt.15 bffs with the rookies+ "come pick me up I'm scared"

Okay, I was in my feels when I wrote this one, sooo- it's sad as shit 😭, this is a CW, I think?

| Masterlist |

"Well, I didn't ask," You responded to Logan, who kept you company as you walked from your dorm to your university in the UK, he had been struggling with jet lag as he was back home for the two-week break for the Vegas GP.

"Well, why didn't ya?" He called out, you told him to do jumping jacks to help go to sleep, you didn't know how it would help but the thought of him jumping around made you laugh.

"Mate, I've gotta call you back," you looked at the huge crowd of men and women with expensive cameras and microphones in front of her university's gates, "Bruv, there's gotta be a celebrity or someone dead."

"Okay," he said, panting, "I think it worked, imma go sleep," he cut the call.

"Scuse me, imma just pass through, to actually study here," you pushed through the crowd till someone grabbed your book bag and yelled, "IT'S HER- IT'S Y/N L/N."

And then, the chaos started.

The cameras began flashing till you couldn't see, mics shoved in your face making scarps and bruises as people pushed and pulled you, yelling questions in your face.

"How do you know the F1 drivers?" one yelled,

"Are you dating any of them?" came another,

"Is it true you're related to Fernando Alonso?" A woman asked, grabbing your hoodie.

The whirlwind went on for a few more minutes, you tried your best to get out of the storm without saying something that might negatively impact their reputations, but then came those questions.

"How's the cushy life since you've got baby Schumacher's pockets?" you heard someone yell.

You finally found an exit, that's it, just five more feet and you'd be free, you know you could outrun them, "Hey, y/n! Who fucks better?" Some guy called out from behind you.

"Your Mother," you yelled back, throwing a punch at the disgustingly proud-looking, fifty-something-year-old man. Shock rippled through the crowd where laughter had run at the question just a few seconds before.

You used the distraction to run back to your dorm room, only your phone in hand, your bag having been yanked off your back in the mess.

"What the fuck?" You panted as you saw your dormmates outside your room, cash in hand, you pushed them aside and ran in, only to find your laptop and iPad missing, along with the camera Lando had gifted to you, the signed 'inchident' from Max and Charles, the polaroid of you, oscar and Logan camping in when you were teenagers and the 'Build a bear' Arthur had gotten you with him saying an inside joke.

You felt your face warm as anger and tears pricked at you.

You turned around to find the unreadable faces of your dormmates, "Where the fuck is my stuff?" You asked, hoping it was all a joke like you hadn't just lost everything that gave you hope, that gave you happiness.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SHIT-" You yelled, slamming your hand on the room door, making your friends move back, one tried to speak, trying to make excuses, "DON'T CHAT TO ME, FUCK YOU-" you could hear your voice breaking, "fuck you," you did your best not to cry but it was becoming tough to not.

You ran out of the building, and despite their protests, you made your way through back alleys and corridors that only locals would know of, pulling up your hood in case anyone recognised you.

You thought of who you could call, Logan was in America, god you wished Logan was here with you, he wouldn't have let this happen in the first place, you laughed to yourself. Oscar and Arthur weren't around either. Max, Charles and Lando were all in Monaco, and you definitely not going to let Mick, someone you'd known barely for a month see you like this, and he wasn't in the UK.

You wiped your hands down your face, and dialled on your phone, "Alex..." your voice trembled against his cheerful greeting, making him worry, "Can you come pick me up please," you tried not to break down. How did it get to this?

"Yes, give me a few, are you okay? Y/n? Hey-" You cut the call, sending him your location. How were you asking for Alex's help? The same man who'd pat you awkwardly on your head every time he saw you. Someone who'd begun treating you like a little sister, along with Logan, bringing you food from the cafeteria, sneaking in Redbulls. Someone who you'd tease calling your older brother, making him cringe about 'I'm not that much older', so maybe he was the right one to go to.

You saw a car pull up and you knew it was Alex, seeing him through the driver's side window. You got into the car, only phone in hand and the clothes on your back. "Hey, what are-?" Came a protest from George, who was in the passenger seat, but stopped as soon as he saw you sitting in the seat, you really didn't want this to be your first impression.

The car didn't move, like he was waiting for some form of explanation, "You'll see," you whispered, making him sigh and drive.

As he passed the gates of your university, they saw what you had been running from, and both their eyes widened. Alex looked into the back-view mirror at your face and decided not to say anything. George on the other hand, began cursing the crowd, calling some people on his phone.

You couldn't make out what he was saying, too tired and too scared.

"Hey, y/n wake up," Alex moved your arm, startling you awake, you saw you were in a car park and got out the car, following mindlessly, behind George, who was typing his code in. If Alex noticed it, he kept it to himself, but you could tell he was concerned about something.

You followed as they led to the apartment, you sat on the couch, if it were a normal, visit you'd be off the walls about the beautiful place, with floor-to-ceiling windows and plants everywhere, terracotta furniture to match the gloomy blue-grey sky.

"Um, George's place was closer, hope that's okay," Alex spoke, softly like it would spook you. He was right.

"I'll make tea, then," George nodded and walked off.

"M-My phone's dead, I think," you sniffled out.

"Y/n, that's not really-" He began,

"Can I charge it please?" I asked, if I tried to pretend this disaster didn't happen, maybe it would be like it wouldn't have.

He took the phone out of your half-stretched hand, attaching it to a charging cord, a small 'ding' telling you that it was indeed charging.

"Y/n, what happened?" He asked sitting next to you on the sofa.

"They took everything," you began, making him frown, George too, was out of his depth, placing the tray with three mugs of tea, "M-My frie- roommates, sold my laptop and iPad, and all the things I'd gotten from you all." You began, but this time you couldn't hold in the tears that pricked at your eyes.

You cried into the sleeve of your hoodie, curling into yourself on the sofa.

All those memories were lost. You had photos all the way from your childhood on that laptop and now they were gone.

"Oh, um," He went in to hug you and patted your head, making you laugh.

''See! There we go!" He smiled wide, making you laugh more, "Here," he passed you a mug of tea, it had cooled off a little, so you could drink it.

"You punched someone?" Came George's voice, it was the only thing he'd said to you.

You looked sheepishly at your right fist, the knuckles of which had turned a nasty red.

"No worries, I'll go get a first-aid," He said, walking to get it, when he was back he sat you on your other side, "You know," he poured some anti-septic onto a cotton pad, "I think, you handled it quite well, they were some stupid questions," He said as he moved onto your face.

You hissed, "Wait, what?" You asked, "It's already on the net?" You felt another wave of anger and tears.

"Yup," Alex said, moving his phone to you, showing a reel on Instagram, where the man was asking you that question, edited with the 'your mom' sound and a 'thwack' when the punch landed, ending with an edit of you in cat ears and a high-pitched fast-paced song.

"What... the fuck?" You didn't know where to laugh or cry.

"Mate, why the edits?" George asked scoffing.

"Wait, check Twitter," You suggested suddenly seeing the hilarity of the situation, "ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME?" You yelled, gulping the last of your tea, "YOUR MOTHER IS TRENDING??" it wasn't on top of the trending list but it was there.

"Y/n... I think you're going to love this," George showed something on his phone, they'd turned your voice into an audio, and there were already hundreds of videos being made on it on TikTok.

"Fuck my life."

.xX A few hours later Xx.

George had given one of his flannels, noticing how dirty your hoodie had gotten.

The three of you ordered takeout and watched The Walking Dead all afternoon, he genuinely reminded you of a posh London Mother.

In the middle of season 2, George got a call, "Hello-" He began but was cut off almost immediately and you could hear the man on the phone's voice till out.

"WHERE IS SHE?" Another voice yelled, "IS SHE OKAY??" All the sudden noise made George flinch and pull the phone away from him.

He quickly passed the phone off to you, and you were bombarded by three heavily accented Monganesque accents, "Hi, guys it's me," You responded making the call go silent for a second and then they all began screaming again, loudest was Arthur, then came Charlie's voice. Lastly, It was Lorenzo who got both the others to keep quiet.

You used the peaceful moment to excuse yourself to another room.

"Are you okay, y/n?" He asked and you replied with a small yes, he hummed and passed the phone.

"Y/n, oh my god, I saw the posts," Charles began, "Those people were stupid to attack you like that," He comforted you.

"Thank you, Charlie," You said, a small smile on your face.

You waited as words were exchanged in French and you heard footsteps on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry Y/n, that should have never happened, it is all because of us," his voice rang sad.

"It's okay, Arthur, we'll talk about this when we're together okay?" You responded, and he kept apologising as he cut the call.

Next came Logan's call, just as you were about to call him, "What the fuck is wrong with people?" He questioned, his tone angry, "You could have gotten hurt. Like seriously hurt. This is bullshit." He yelled, but then his voice softened, "You aren't hurt are you?"

"No, not much, I've got a few bruises and cuts but all mint other than that." He hummed as you spoke, and began asking you other questions and you told him about what your roommates had done, you could hear that he was livid but kept trying to be calm for you.

And when Oscar called, that's when it finally hit you again, that feeling of losing everything that you held dear, "Y/n, please don't cry," came his voice from the other end, "Please don't cry while I'm away cause then I can't do anything about it," his voice broke.

"They took all our stuff, Osc, all the way from the first time we met to the last time we got McDonald's together, everything," you sniffled and you could hear the frown in his voice.

"I'm sure we can get it back, don't worry y/n, we'll figure it out, ya know, we've all got your back, speaking of which, you'd better call Max right away, he's with Lando, his bombarding my phone as we speak," He complained, returning some normalcy to your situation.

You cut the call and called Max, and it was Lando who spoke first, cursing at the media and complementing your punch and quick response and then Max took over.

"Firstly, are you okay?" He asked, making you say yes, "Secondly, I've got a lawyer ready, tell me and we'll fight this. We can find a way to get your stuff back." you didn't know what to say.

"Yes, yes, please," you spoke for a little longer before you had to excuse yourself. You had to call someone, someone you know who was going to be livid.

"Hiiiiii," You spoke into the phone, awaiting a response.

"Y/n, how are you, kiddo?" Your uncle's voice rang out. He had been taking care of you ever since you were a teenager, not that you needed much, a place to stay and school.

"I'm fine, it was bound to happen one day," you exhaled at the unfairness of it all.

"I know, I heard what your bastardas friends did," and you could hear the anger in his voice, "Names, and I will get it sorted," He asked making you giggle, he'd always been like this ever since you had showed up on his doorstep.

You told him not to do anything rash but that Max had gotten you a lawyer, he seemed proud of Max for that.

You told him you had to leave since it wasn't your phone you'd been using.

You walked inside, apologising for hogging the phone but George just waved his hand, too invested in whatever episode that was playing. He'd gotten out a bottle of wine (Of course he had,) and he and Alex were busy deep-diving into the show's lore.

He'd kept you a glass, which you gladly accepted.

As the day progressed, you took your leave, but not before George offering you the guest room, saying Alex would take the sofa, which made the other man kick the taller blonde, as you took your leave, having booked an Uber and hotel room for the week, you could still hear them play fighting.

As you were in the car, Mick called you, and you were surprised he had.

"Hey, Y/n! How are you?" He asked,

"Good, you?" You were good at pretending everything was okay, you got an A+ in coping mechanisms class in school!

"Can't be worse than, you know, punching someone," he laughed, you had realised, that the both of you had a sense of humour that really just clicked.

"Oh mate, that was the good part!" You made sure that your payment had gone through with the Uber driver and walked into the hotel. They already had your room ready (courtesy of George, you were sure,) and you only needed to show an ID to be led in, without any other questions.

"Yeah... I saw all the clips on Instagram," He sighed.

"It was kind of crazy, I can't even imagine how it must be for you guys!" You put the phone on speaker and looked through the room service options.

You were going to have lunch in your dorm's cafeteria but that loan had kind of fallen apart, and anyways tea and wine wasn't nearly enough to make you forget the shit show that happened today.

"Mate you won't believe what else happened," You told him about the laptop.

"What the fuck,"

"RIGHT- anyways, I hope they don't get into my drive 'cause I have some in there that is not for public eyes, like imagine they saw the video of your horrible Ghostface impression?" You laughed at him, making him remember the party.

"Oh, Please, it was amazing, I scared you!" He yelled,

"And then you shrieked when Logan did the same to you,"

"Well yes, but he was dressed as Anakin, y/n! I'm not competing with that!" He gasped, shivering at how the hair on his neck raised when Logan did the voice.

"Oh mate please, but that's not even the worst of it, I've got a video of Max and Charles, slow dancing, and literally everything Lando and Carlos do is incriminating."

"That is true, I didn't see them for half of the party," he insinuated.

"Well, you and Arthur were pretty busy seeing who could down more shots," You snickered.

"Well, it wouldn't have become that big if Oscar didn't egg us on!" He complained as he had for days after the party but all he got from Oscar was a smug smirk, with an evil look in his eyes whenever he did something like that.

You spoke till room service came in and then excused yourself to drown in pasta and Netflix.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat @allenajade-ite @megatrilss1885 @squirreljoe @jsjcue @s4turnsl0ver @yl90 @elijahslover

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cheeriecherrymain · 1 year

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hii! since requests are open and all, do you have any thoughts about jayce walking in on viktor and the reader doing the deed?? i JUST cant stop thinking about it, would viktor be possessive, trying to cover you up with his own body or just straight up embarrassed. NOT TO MENTION jayce would be so fucking awkward about it and do something completely dumb like give a thumbs up after covering his eyes and apologizing jddbbdbdnskdbd

I accidentally made this way too horny

---

Viktor x fem!Reader (MSFW)(18+)

---

-It’s not often that the two of you find yourselves busy enough for a long enough time that you end up getting handsy in the lab. Viktor, for one, is far more content to lay you out in the privacy of your own home and have his way with you, ravishing you until you’re breathlessly begging for him to stop. Or give you more.

-But that night is a…special occasion, of sorts. It’s the busiest month of the year, for starters - finishing off all kinds of projects in preparation for presentation, hoping to gain at least a couple of sponsors to keep HexTech going for the next year.

-You’re no stranger to the stress your boyfriend is under, having kept him company through the years while you gently tried to care for him and Jayce. You’d only been friends back then, though.

-This year, you’re officially dating.

-Which means you wanted to do something extra special for him, to help him relax.

-And that just happened to be in the form of soft, sexy lingerie, hidden beneath one of your shortest, tightest skirts, and a loose, unbuttoned blouse. It was an outfit you’d caught Viktor ogling you in many times, even before you made it official. His gaze would often wander down your neck, trailing over every inch of exposed skin, down to where the edge of your bra just barely peeked out.

-It had been quite late when you’d shown up to the lab, late enough that even Jayce had thrown in the towel for the night and gone home to rest. Which was perfect for the plan you had in mind.

-Viktor had been distracted when you’d walked in, and you’d gotten all the way over to his desk before he finally took notice of your outfit.

- “You’re trying to kill me,” he groaned, collapsing back in his chair, running a hand down his face while he unabashedly took you apart with his eyes. “What are you hoping to get from me, miláček? Are you trying to bribe me into going home with you?”

-He reaches for you, then, his hands finding purchase on the soft of your hips, pulling you closer and closer until you’re nearly in his lap.

- “You know I can’t resist you when you dress in such slutty clothes,” he sighs, acting as though he’s entirely put-upon by your presence, and not stupidly turned on. As if you can’t see the obvious strain in his trousers.

-He pushes you back against his desk, rucking your skirt up in the process. The moment he sees what kind of undergarments you’ve got hiding, he nearly growls, sending a little thrill of excitement to your core.

-He pretty much bullies you out of your clothing, then, popping buttons viciously and shoving fabric aside, leaving most of them discarded carelessly on the floor. He teases you in a manner you might honestly consider a little bit mean, had you not been entirely prepared and hoping for this kind of reaction.

-He leaves bite marks wherever he can, little indents that you know will be tender in a couple of hours when he’s had his way with you. Teasing you with the soft lave of his tongue, only to make you squeak when the sharp of his teeth press into you.

-He slides his thumb over the obvious wet spot on your panties, briefly catching on your puffy clit. And when you jump slightly, whining at the sudden spark of pleasure, he decides, once again, to be a little bit cruel. Pressing down to rub hard, fast circles against you, making you gasp out and tremble beneath the sudden onslaught.

-So harsh it nearly spurs you into overstimulation, as more slick, sticky fluid drools out of you.

- “Look at you,” he mutters, finally slowing his ministrations to allow you to catch your breath. His hands find your hips again, quickly spinning you around to face away from him, sandwiching you between his body and the desk.

-You know what he wants.

-But…you want to hear him say it.

- “Hands on the desk,” he hisses, pushing gently down between your shoulder blades, until you’re sufficiently bent over. “And don’t move until I tell you to. Don’t come, either, or you’ll be leaving here unsatisfied.”

-You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips, arching your back and spreading your legs just a little wider.

-His demeanor changes, then, going from demanding to something sweeter. At least on the surface.

-He finds a seat back in his chair, and wastes no time yanking your ruined panties down your legs, not quite caring enough to fully discard them. He strokes a thumb through your slippery folds, dipping both the left and right into your drenched hole, pulling them apart to spread you open as wide as he can.

-You know he can see you clenching around nothing, leaking and dripping and trembling beneath his touch.

- “Look at you,” he sighs dreamily. “You’re so desperate to be filled up. I bet you’ve been planning this all day, haven’t you? Come up with your little scheme to come and visit me looking all pretty, hoping I’ll give in and fuck your slutty little cunt.”

-He pulls his thumbs out of you before you can reply, and brings his palm down on the meat of your ass, earning him a soft cry. He’s quick to soothe the area, kneading your warm flesh, before repeating the process again.

-It’s a punishment, you know, for disturbing him, for being irresistible and insatiable. It’s because he’s frustrated with work, and needs to take it out on someone. You knew full well what you’d be getting into this evening, and despite the fact that you’re about to start begging him to let you come, you’re happy.

-He loves you so well, and it’s a treat getting to witness him lose a little bit of his usual control.

-Your ass is glowing hot by the end of it, so much that you’re positive you’re going to be sitting funny for a couple of days. He’s four fingers deep in your slick pussy, spreading you impossibly wide yet still not giving you exactly what you want. He knows what you want, and no matter how much you whine and plead, he’ll only give it to you when it suits him.

- “Please, Viktor-” Another harsh slap to your ass. “Sir, please! Please fuck me - I want to come, I want to come on your cock. I’ve been good today, I-”

-He curls his fingers just so within you, and you can’t help the involuntary squeal that erupts from your throat. Your legs have long since given out, leaving you weak and pliable on the desk, not even able to close them in protest.

- “Sir please,” you beg, on the verge of sobbing. “I want- I only want to come with you inside me- please-”

-And like the bastard he is, he only crooks his fingers again, and again, and again. Filling the lab with the obscene sounds of him bullying your soaked cunt, hellbent on making you come despite that fact that he’d distinctly told you not to. He doesn’t care about the mess gathering on the floor between your legs, he doesn’t care that anyone out in the hallway would undoubtedly be able to hear your desperate noises.

- “But, I am inside you, no?” he quips watching in amusement as your whole body tremors under his ministrations. “Or are my fingers not enough for you? Are you that much of a whore that you can only come on my cock?”

-You dig your nails into the polished wood of the desk, so harshly that you leave little divots in the material. Tears budding in the corners of your eyes, threatening to tumble down your cheeks.

- “Please,” you sob, breathless, “Viktor please fuck me. I need you to fuck me. I need you to fill me up and use me, I need to make you feel good-”

-The air is tense between the two of you, as he rises to his feet and starts fumbling with the button on his trousers. You wonder for a second if you’ve made him mad with all your incessant begging, if he’s going to reprimand you for demanding so much of him.

-But then, his lips meet the small of your back, leaving a trail of kisses up the curve of your spine, all the way to your neck, where he presses an entire slew against your shoulders and cheek.

- “You do make me feel good, drahý,” he promises you tenderly, finally shoving his slacks down just enough to free himself from their confines. “You make me feel divine, with your love, and your support, and your unyielding kindness.”

-He slides the blunt head of his cock through your folds a couple times. “And, of course,” he tacks on, “You let me fuck you however I please. Whatever hole I want, whenever I want, you’re always ready to please.”

-You cry out, when he finally starts pushing into you, spreading you even wider than his fingers had. Slowly, slowly, easing his way deeper and deeper.

- He swears a little bit in his native tongue, words you don’t quite remember the meaning of, but that you’ve definitely heard before. Muttered while he works, hissed behind the back of snotty sponsors, whispered into the curve of your neck whenever he makes love to you.

- “You’re a treat,” he groans, finally bottoming out inside you. “So beautiful, perfect, hot and wet around me. Incredible.” He keeps you like that for a couple of seconds, simply savouring the way you feel, the way you squirm and clench and drip for him.

-But it’s not long before he starts moving. Tentative, shallow thrusts, easing you into it as to not overwhelm you just yet. His hands find your hips again, keeping you steady while he rolls against you. Gently, sweetly.

-Until some little noise you make flips the switch inside him again. He decides you’re sufficiently prepared, and his thrusts get harder. Faster, more precise. Stretching you impossibly deep, almost punching the air out of your lungs each time his hips meet the curve of your ass.

-It doesn’t take long until you’re strung out on the edge, so close to orgasm yet not daring to let yourself tumble over. Not without his permission, and not before he finds his own release.

- “Viktor,” you cry, limp on the desk while he takes his pleasure from you, using your pussy like some delicious little fuck toy. “I want you to fill me up,” you beg, “please, I want you to come inside. Come for me, I want to feel you-”

-His fingernails dig into the meat of your hips, leaving little crescents in your skin. You know he’s close, if his silence is anything to go by. Too far gone to form a coherent thought, too focused on chasing his pleasure to speak, only able to reply with a clenched jaw and a growl.

-And then, he stops.

-And too late, you realize why.

-You glance over at the sound of a door squeaking, only to lock eyes with none other than Jayce, one of your dearest friends and the work partner of your boyfriend, and oh god he just walk in on you guys-

- “I am so sorry!” he nearly shouts, staring for half a second too long before he finally realizes he should cover his eyes. “I- I just came back for- I left my notebook- I’m sorry!”

-He’s out of the room just as quickly as he’d entered, shutting the door loudly as he goes, retreating briskly back down the hallway from whence he came. You can’t help but stare at the spot where he’d just been, mortification slowly seeping into your very core.

-God, how were you ever going to look him in the eye again?

-How were you going to be able to keep any kind of professional relationship??

-And oh god, what about Viktor??? He’d just been caught balls-deep inside of you.

- “Of all the times for the mood to die,” you groan, letting your cheek rest on the cool surface of the desk. You fully expect your boyfriend to agree, to tentatively pull out of you, and for the two of you to get cleaned up and try again another day.

-And he does pull out. Briefly.

-Before shocking a gasp past your lips as he thrusts back in. Gripping your hips even harder than before, yanking your body back towards him each time his hips come forward. You’re embarrassed - you’re confused - you’re about to come.

- “Viktor,” you warn, only for him to lean forward, just enough for him to start rubbing small, fast circles over your clit with the pad of his finger.

- “Come for me, milý,” he says, begs, “Make a mess for me, let me feel you come.”

-And how can you refuse?

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #though it's more of a bullet-point story #jayce shows up for like 0.5 seconds #the ace writes smut #why does the dirty stuff i write never show up in the tag

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