#but other things too like going out alone or starting a new job. simple things that people do all the time that i just had to do once | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wholoveseggs · 4 months

Note

Hey, just an idea that would work really well, I think. Can you do a smut with a horribly jealous Elijah? They have a casual affair going because she has severe intimacy issues, but Elijah is deeply in love and needs her to realize that?

Strings

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You've denied what your heart wants for so long and Elijah is tired of waiting.

♡♡ Thanks for the request, I may have gotten a little carried away with this one ♡♡

6.2k words - Warnings: smut, lots of drinking / drunkenness, men being gross, white knight Elijah, dom!elijah (as dom as I can write it, I'm just a sappy romantic), rough(ish) sex, rim job (f!receiving), blood drinking, biting & hangovers.

{Moodboard->}

It was annoying, really, how good Elijah was in bed. You never thought you would be the kind of girl who would lose your mind over a simple touch, but you couldn't get enough. You had never felt this way, even after months of sex, and it was maddening.

You had started sleeping together on a whim, one night of drinking leading to a night of fun. It was just meant to be a one-time thing, but it became more frequent, and then more, until you found yourself spending more time with him than alone.

‘No strings attached’ you had said when you first started sleeping together, but as time went on, Elijah was getting more and more attached and so were you.

When you were underneath him, clinging to his strong shoulders, panting and moaning as he completely unraveled you, it was easy to forget that it was supposed to be casual. But then his gaze would lock onto yours, those dark intense eyes with so much love pouring out of them and you couldn't stand it.

You would close your eyes and look away, your heart beating so hard you thought it would explode. He would always pause for a second, then keep going.

This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't the deal, and you wanted him to stop, but at the same time you didn't. The look he gave you frightened you, it was like he was seeing inside your soul, seeing all the parts of you that you tried so hard to keep secret.

Elijah had never hidden the fact that he wanted more from you, but he had respected your boundaries. He hid how much it hurt him when you told him that you didn't want more, and you knew that, yet he kept going, because he couldn't stay away from you.

He would give you anything you asked for, and he would take anything you gave him, and he would never tell you that he was unhappy.

He was always so good to you.

Until you started seeing other people.

And then he wasn't so good.

Elijah heard the click of your boots before you even entered the compound. He'd been listening for them all morning, his ears trained to the sound, his heart lifting every time a woman with the right footfall walked in. Only when he'd heard you arrive would he relax his shoulders, his mind no longer consumed with the idea of you and another man together.

It was a new torture. Before, he had just wanted you. Now, he had you, and he knew that someone else was touching you, and that someone wasn't him.

"Beks! Beks! Oh my God, what a night!" You came bounding through the courtyard, you had a coffee in one hand and a fresh bouquet of flowers in the other. Still in the same clothes you left in last night, the only change was your makeup smudged, your hair a little messy.

Elijah watched you from the balcony above. You hadn't seen him yet. You were too busy gushing to Rebekah, who had been waiting eagerly for your return.

"What happened? I lost you after we did those shots with Klaus." Rebekah asked, taking the flowers and looking you over.

"Okay, you know that hot guy who was flirting with me at the bar? Well I went to some house party with him and a few of his friends," You said, sitting down next to Rebekah and taking a long sip of coffee. "So we were all drinking, and then we did some shots, and then a couple of lines, and then one thing led to another..."

You trailed off, grinning at her. She gave you a look, gesturing for you to go on.

Elijah tried his best not to listen, but he could help himself. He had never been able to resist the sound of your voice.

"So what happened?" She asked.

"Well, we ended up in the kitchen and he was fucking me against the counter," You said with a giggle.

"Was he any good?"

"Not really," You replied, taking a big gulp of coffee and rolling your eyes. "But the kitchen was real fancy, and there was a maid who saw us."

Rebekah laughed, shaking her head.

"That is classic, darling," She said, handing you back the flowers.

"Yeah, and then when I was on my way out in the morning I stole these right out of a vase," You said proudly, putting them down on the table next to you.

The sound of your giggles floated up to him. It was utterly infuriating, and at the same time, it was like a balm to his soul.

Elijah had never felt this way before.

Pure, untamed, jealousy.

He knew he shouldn't care, he knew he should be happy for you, but he couldn't stop thinking about you with other men. He couldn't stop wondering what it was like, what they were like. What did they say to you, did they make you laugh, did they touch you the way he did?

Did you want them, the way you wanted him?

And most importantly, why wasn't he enough?

"So are you going to see him again? Did he get your number?" Rebekah asked, breaking Elijah out of his dark thoughts.

"No, and yes. He wanted to go out again tonight," You replied.

"Are you going to say yes?"

"Maybe," You said, shrugging. "I'd prefer to go out with you guys, though. Maybe we could get Kol to come along."

"That would be lovely, maybe we could even convince Elijah to join," Rebekah said, smiling mischievously.

Elijah perked up at this and decided to make his presence known. He descended the stairs, trying to appear nonchalant, his usual charming self.

"Good morning, ladies," He said, his eyes fixed on you. You turned and smiled, and it made his heart skip a beat.

"Hey," You replied, grinning.

"We were just talking about going out tonight," Rebekah said, glancing between you.

"Oh? Where are you going?" Elijah asked.

"Not sure yet, wherever Beks wants," You replied. "But we were thinking that we could all go, you included."

Elijah tried not to react. He didn't want to go anywhere, not if you were going to bring one of your...paramours.

"Maybe," He said, keeping his tone light.

"Aw, come on, please?" You begged, flashing him those big, pretty eyes and batting your eyelashes.

"Yes, come with us," Rebekah joined in.

Elijah knew he would cave, like always. He couldn't say no to you, not when you looked at him like that.

"Fine," He agreed, and Rebekah and you cheered.

"It'll be fun, I promise," You said, and Elijah hoped so. He didn't think he could take much more of this.

Elijah found himself in the back of a car with his siblings. He had tried to stay home, to come up with an excuse, but Rebekah had dragged him out the door and into the car, saying that she didn't want him to sit at home and brood all night.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, talking animatedly to Rebekah. Klaus was driving, and Kol was on the phone with Davina, telling her all about the plans for the night.

"I can't believe we managed to get you out of the house without you wearing a suit," you teased, admiring his outfit. He had opted for a white shirt and black pants, his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. He looked ridiculously good.

"I can dress casually, when I want to," He said, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe when you are going to bed," You replied, winking. He raised his eyebrows and smirked, the sight of it sending a rush of heat to your core.

"I'd be happy to show you, if you would like," He said, his voice deep and sexy.

The rest of the Mikaelsons didn't know about the affair you and Elijah were having. It was meant to be casual, you didn't want anything serious, and so the two of you were keeping it a secret. But they definitely suspected something was up, considering the flirting, the longing looks, and the time Klaus saw Elijah sneaking out of your room.

"Maybe later, if you're lucky," You shot back, giving him a wink.

He chuckled and shook his head, trying not to grin like an idiot. He was failing.

"Don't mind me, I'll just sit here and pretend I can't hear any of this," Kol interjected, looking up from his phone.

"Hush, brother," Elijah said, and Kol made a face, returning his attention to Davina.

You continued talking to Rebekah and Kol, trying to ignore the heat of Elijah's gaze on you.

When you arrived at the club, Kol immediately disappeared to go find Davina and Klaus was swarmed by women within seconds of entering the place.

You and Rebekah got drinks, and Elijah stayed close, trying not to stare at the way you moved your hips, the way your skin glowed in the dark, the way the tight dress you wore clung to your curves.

"Dance with me," You said, turning and holding out a hand. Elijah hesitated, his eyes roaming your body.

"I don't dance," He said.

"Liar," You accused, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the crowd. He followed, letting you lead him.

Once you reached the dance floor, you started moving to the beat. Your hands rested on his chest, his arms wrapping around you, the two of you moving together. The way you felt around him was indescribable, and you never wanted to leave his embrace.

The music was loud, and the people were packed together. He could feel the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin, the way your breath hitched when he pulled you closer.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear, and he inhaled sharply.

"Come on, Elijah, have some fun," You purred.

"I'm having plenty of fun," He replied, his voice low and rough.

"Are you sure? You seem a little tense," You teased, your hand slipping under the bottom of his shirt, feeling his skin.

"I'm sure," He said, his hand resting on your waist.

You smiled, your eyes glittering with mischief.

"Let's go somewhere quieter, then," You suggested, pulling him away from the dance floor and towards a secluded corner.

"Is that a good idea?" He asked, his tone serious, but his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Probably not," You replied, and he grinned.

You stopped, the two of you hidden by shadows, and Elijah pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the hint of whiskey, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on his skin.

He was so gentle, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you slowly, his lips warm and soft against yours. You wanted something more aggressive from him, you tugged at his hair, trying to deepen the kiss, but he kept his pace slow, steady, torturous.

You pulled away, the alcohol coursing through your veins, your head spinning. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, feel his breath hot on your cheek.

He was gazing at you, his eyes dark and intense, and you felt a surge of fear and vulnerability that made you snap.

"Stop. Doing. That." You said, pulling away.

"What?"

"Looking at me like that," You replied.

"How am I looking at you?"

"Like...like..." You trailed off, unsure how to explain it. Like he was looking at you like he loved you, like he wanted you. It was unsettling.

"Like I love you? Because I do."

"Shut up," You muttered, avoiding his gaze.

He took your chin and forced you to look at him. His expression was serious, his gaze boring into yours.

"What do I have to do to convince you?" He said pressing you further into the wall, his body trapping yours.

"Do I have to fuck you so hard you never think about another man again?" He growled. "Is that what you want?"

You stared at him, unable to speak.

"Do you want me to tear off your clothes right here and now, and fuck you against the wall, where anyone could see us? Is that what it will take to convince you?" He said, his voice low and husky.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

He chuckled, and his lips were on yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, making your knees weak and your heart race. His hands were everywhere, pulling at your clothes, touching every inch of your skin.

"What do I have to do to make you mine and only mine?" He asked, his voice thick and raspy, his fingers gripping your hips and digging in.

You whimpered, trying to catch your breath. He was usually so reserved, so gentle and controlled. This was something else, this was him letting go, and it was overwhelming.

"Lijah-," You moaned, trying to form a coherent thought. "I need some air," You said, pushing him away.

He reluctantly let you go, watching you walk away with pain in his eyes.

You slipped through the crowd and towards the bar, ordering a drink and trying to compose yourself. You could still feel his body heat, his touch on your skin.

"Hey dollface," A voice came from behind you. It was a guy you'd met the night before. Flashes of the fancy kitchen returned to your mind, but you really didn't want to repeat what you'd done last night.

"Hey," You said, smiling politely. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, me neither," He laughed. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Thanks," You replied, finishing the one in your hand. "I'll have a whiskey,"

"Be right back," He winked, disappearing towards the bartender.

You waited for a few minutes before he came back with two glasses of whiskey.

"What are you doing tonight?” He said, giving you a flirty smile.

You gave him a coy smile, sipping your drink.

"Oh, I don't know. Whatever you're into," You said, watching his expression change.

You loved this, the chase, the anticipation of knowing what would happen next. It wasn't even necessarily about the sex, it was about being wanted. You loved to be touched, to be desired, to be looked at with awe and lust. It was easy for you, just a game that you liked to play, a way to make you feel special.

But Elijah was still on your mind, eating away at any enjoyment you should be getting out of this encounter. So you drank, more than you usually did, hoping the alcohol would help numb the feelings you had for him.

Unfortunately, it only made everything worse.

You didn't care about this guy, nor did you want to sleep with him again, you were just enjoying the attention. You needed to forget Elijah and focus on something else, anything.

The rest of the night became a blur, a messy, meaningless haze of alcohol and sounds and hands on your skin. You lost track of time, you stopped caring and you found yourself outside the club, being pulled towards his car, giggling and hiccupping the whole time.

"Come on, sugar, it'll be fun," He slurred, wrapping an arm around you. "Let's have another round at my place," He was trying to pull you into the backseat, and you were too drunk and dizzy to put up a fight.

"I don't know," you mumbled, trying to focus on his face but having a hard time keeping him in your line of vision. He flashed you a dopey smile, leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss.

"My friieennds will be worried," you protested, trying to get him off you. He wasn't really listening, his attention focusing on groping your ass. You tried to get him to let go of you, pushing on his chest, but he didn't budge.

"I'm sory-" you slurred, "tis was bad idea,"

"Why?" He asked, confusion etched across his face.

"I'm farrrrr to drunk," you said, the words coming out slowly, "I shouldna had that fifth drink,"

"You're very cute when you're drunk," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Shtop," you slurred, struggling to get out of his grasp.

You saw Elijah leaving the club with Klaus and tried to push the man off.

"My frriiieends areleaving,"

"Come on, they'll understand," he replied, tightening his grip on you.

You started to panic, the world was spinning, and you couldn't think straight. Elijah saw you and came over, the look on his face making it clear that he knew what was going on.

"Lijah-" you said, reaching for him.

The man backed off immediately when he saw Elijah, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"Are you okay?" Elijah asked, pulling you into his arms. You collapsed against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.

"Too drunk," you slurred, your head lolling against his chest.

He picked you up bridal style, glaring at the man, who was shrinking into himself. He brought you to the car and sat you down in the back seat, he leaned over to fasten your seatbelt and you looked up at him, trying to focus on his face.

"I'm sorry, he jus-just wouldn't stop." You said, your words coming out slowly.

Elijah's demeanor completely changed when he saw how drunk you were. He could smell the alcohol on your breath, see the fog in your eyes.

"Klaus, watch her. I'll be right back," he said, before disappearing.

You tilted your head back, the whole car felt like it was spinning. Klaus was saying something you couldn't quite make out, the words muffled.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, until Elijah came back and got in the car. He had a grim look on his face and there was blood on his shirt.

"Lij-lijah," You whispered, reaching out for him as he sat next to you. "Please tell me you didn't killed him,"

Elijah didn't say a word, just wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You leaned into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," You mumbled, your words slurring together.

He smiled slightly, holding you tightly.

You began to drift off to sleep, feeling safe in his arms. He stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Elijah was hurt that you ran away after his confession. He was the patient one, the one who always waited for you, always put you first. But he was tired of waiting. He couldn't pretend to not have feelings for you anymore, so he'd said something. Then you fled, too scared of commitment, too frightened of intimacy to stick around.

He'd hoped you would give him a chance, that you could learn to trust him and open your heart. But you had rejected him, again and again, and he was done waiting for you to change your mind.

When the car pulled up in front of the compound, you stumbled out, the alcohol making you unsteady on your feet. Your heels making it impossible to walk properly.

You took a tumble but Klaus caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and helping you stay upright.

"I got her," Elijah said, his voice soft.

"I'm fiiiiinnnnneeee," You protested, trying to push them away, but you fell again and Elijah picked you up and carried you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

"Always such a gentleman," You giggled, your face buried in his neck.

"Sometimes," He said, amusement clear in his voice.

"You look very nice tonight," you added, tugging at his hair.

He brought you to your room and set you on the bed, pulling off your heels and helping you under the blankets.

"Lijah I'm cold, will you come keep me warm?" You pouted, batting your eyelashes at him.

Elijah let out a long sigh, and climbed into bed with you, his arms wrapped around your waist.

You cuddled up to him, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around you. You couldn't deny the feelings you had for him, but you were determined to push them away. You didn't deserve him, he was far too good for you.

"I'm sorry, Lijah," You whispered, you placed your thigh around his hips, wrapping yourself around him. You wanted him closer, you wanted to feel his skin against yours, feel his heartbeat against your chest. "I want you," you breathed, pressing your lips to his.

He didn't respond, just pulled his head back and stared at you. His gaze was intense, and you found yourself unable to look away, you felt like your heart was being cracked open, exposed.

"No, you don't, you're just drunk," He whispered, his breath hot on your cheek. You were confused, conflicted by the emotions you were feeling, the sensations his closeness provoked.

"Let me show you," You whispered, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, trying to kiss him again, but he pulled back, breaking your hold.

You whimpered, frustrated, as he carefully unwound your arms, freeing himself.

"I can't keep doing this," He said, his voice pained, "it's not fair to either of us. I'm done being the second choice. I'm done being the one you run to when you have nowhere else to go."

"That's not true-" You said, tears welling up in your eyes. You felt like your heart was breaking, shattering into a million pieces, but you couldn't let him know, you couldn't show how much you were hurting.

"Isn't it?" He asked, his tone calm, but there was a fury in his eyes, "I love you, but this isn't working. I'm done wasting my time waiting for you to pick me. I'm just...I'm done,"

You felt like he'd punched you in the gut, your heart was pounding, your stomach twisting in knots. You tried to think of a reply, but you couldn't find any words. You laid there in silence, unable to speak.

He looked at you for a moment, then nodded to himself, as if he'd made up his mind. He got out of bed and left without a word.

Your mind raced as you processed what had just happened.

You were overwhelmed, your emotions a hurricane in your mind. Everything was a mess. You could feel your heart rate rising, your body starting to shake, your breathing coming in shallow bursts. You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, trying to relax, but the panic wouldn't go away.

Then it started, you were shaking uncontrollably, tears pouring down your face, and you couldn't stop crying. You rolled onto your side and curled into a ball, gripping your legs as tightly as possible, the tears flowing freely as you let out a strangled sob.

You cried yourself to sleep, Elijah's name on your lips.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a mouthful of sand. Your whole body ached, and the sunlight streaming through the windows made your head throb.

You dragged yourself from the shower, then to the kitchen, in search of coffee like it was a life line.

"Morning, sunshine," Rebekah chirped, way too cheerful for how shitty you felt.

You just grunted in response, pouring yourself a cup of coffee and adding a splash of whiskey. "Can you turn me so I don't have to feel like shit," You asked, leaning against the counter.

Rebekah snorted, sipping her coffee.

"That's a terrible reason to become a vampire," She replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it would save me from hangovers," You shot back, and she shook her head, amused.

"So, how was your night?" You asked, and she smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"It was fantastic," She replied, and you chuckled, taking a long drink of your coffee.

"I'm glad someone had a good time," You said, and she gave you a sympathetic look.

"I thought you and Elijah were hitting it off?" She asked, and you sighed, shaking your head.

"It's complicated," You replied, not wanting to go into detail.

"It's not," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "You are just making it so,"

You glared at her, irritated.

"Look, I'm not trying to pry, but I've seen the way you two look at each other. You are both just being stubborn," She continued, and you huffed, rolling your eyes.

"Whatever, I don't want to talk about it," You replied, trying to change the subject.

"Love can be messy," She said, and you laughed, shaking your head.

"Yeah, that's why I don't do it," You replied, and she gave you a look, her brow furrowed.

"You love Elijah, it's not a dirty word," She said, and you scoffed.

"I do not," You protested, and she sighed, exasperated.

"Love isn't something you can opt out of," She replied, her voice soft. "Trust me I've tried,"

You were silent, unable to think of a retort.

"You are just scared, that's all," She continued, and you looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze.

"There's nothing wrong with that, but it's also no reason to run away," She added, her voice gentle.

"I'm not running, I'm living my best life," You replied, a hint of bitterness in your voice.

She just stared at you, her expression one of pity.

"Yeah, well, maybe your best life needs some changes," She said, finishing her coffee and standing up. "I'll see you later,"

You slunk into a chair, nursing your coffee and trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

You didn't even try to deny her accusations, the words dying in your throat. Because she was right, you were scared.

You found Elijah in his room, sitting on the window seat, reading. He looked up when you entered, a small smile on his face.

"How are you feeling? He asked.

"Like shit," You mumbled, shuffling your feet.

"Understandable," He replied, looking back down at his book.

You fidgeted with the hem of your dress, unable to meet his gaze.

"So, last night..." You started, trailing off.

He glanced at you, a curious look on his face.

"I'm sorry," You continued, looking down at your feet.

He put his book down and stood up, walking over to you. He kept his distance, but there was a familiar look in his eyes.

"Did you really mean it? When you said you didn't want this?" You asked, gesturing between the two of you.

"What would you have me do?" He asked, his expression unreadable.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You didn't know what to say, you didn't have the words to describe what you were feeling. So you did what you always did when things got tough, you shut down, closed yourself off and tried to run.

You turned away, ready to walk out, but Elijah grabbed your arm, stopping you. He pulled you close, his face inches from yours.

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" He asked, his voice soft.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You tried to think of something to say, something that would make him understand, but your mind was blank.

"Because... Because I'm scared," You said, your voice barely a whisper.

He lifted your chin up, his gaze searching yours.

"What are you afraid of?" He asked, and you let out a shaky breath.

"I'm afraid of losing you," You said, your voice breaking slightly. "I'm afraid that you'll break my heart,"

His eyes grew dark and he pushed you back against the wall. Your heart hammered in your chest, fear and desire surging through your body. His hands gripped your hips, his gaze hungry and dangerous. You saw his desire, his love, and for once, you didn't want to run from it.

You pushed against his chest, your breathing becoming shallow, but he didn't budge. He was firm, unyielding, just like his love for you.

His hands traveled up your body, pushing up your dress. He pulled it over your head and tossed it aside, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before him. He looked down at you, drinking in the sight, and you felt a rush of heat in your core. His gaze was almost too much to bear, but you held it, refusing to back down. He pressed his lips to yours, the kiss hungry and rough, and you moaned against his lips.

"I can't share you anymore," he whispered, his voice strained with effort, his nose buried in your neck.

"You don't have to," you mumbled, gasping when he sank his fangs into your neck. You gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

"Good," he growled, withdrawing his fangs. His tongue lapped at your neck, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

"Mine," he said, a possessive edge to his voice.

You trembled under his touch, his kiss growing even more heated. He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifted your thigh, wrapping it around his hips and pressing your back against the wall.

"I'm going keep you in my bed until you understand," he growled, and you moaned, unable to think straight.

He ripped your panties off, tossing them aside before sinking two fingers into you. You arched your back, grinding against his hand, desperate for relief. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in slow circles as his fingers pumped into you.

He watched you, a small smirk on his face, enjoying the way you came undone beneath him. Something in him had snapped, and he could not longer hold back his need for you to be his. He tried many times to show you how much he loves you, but you always ran away at the first sign of intimacy. Not this time though, he was going to break down every wall you'd built and claim you.

You were getting closer to the edge, your breathing labored as your pleasure built. Just as you were on the verge, he removed his fingers from you, denying you relief. You cried out, trying to grind against him, but he held you still. He loved seeing you like this, desperate and begging for him.

"Now you know how I feel," he whispered, and you gasped, his words sending a shockwave through you.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you around, slamming you against the wall, making the painting beside you rattling in its place.

He pressed himself into your back, his hand circling your throat, the other wandering freely. He ran his finger along the clasp of your bra, freeing your breasts from the lacy material.

His fingers traced your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks, his lips on your neck. You whimpered as he rolled his hips against you, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your ass.

"I'm going to mark every inch of your perfect skin," He purred, his voice thick with desire. "So everyone knows you are mine,"

He nipped at your neck, his fangs threatening to break the surface again. You moaned, grinding against him, desperate for more. He chuckled, sucking at the spot on your neck, leaving a dark hickey behind.

He pulled you away from the wall and pushed you onto the bed, forcing you onto all fours. His hands gripped your hips, and he leaned forward, licking a strip down the length of your spine. You shivered, your whole body alive and sensitive to his touch. He slid his tongue between your cheeks, stopping to suck and lick at your tight little hole, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you.

You tried to sit up but he pushed you back down, his tongue spearing into your rear entrance. You moaned, squirming under him, your face flushed with desire. He inserted a finger into your pussy, and began to slowly fuck you.

It didn't take long for your thighs to start shaking, your muscles tensing as your orgasm approached. You bit your lip, trying to hold back, but it was futile. You let go with a low moan and suddenly yelped as he sunk his fangs into your ass cheek.

"Lijah!" You exclaimed, surprised.

This rough, wild side of him, so completely different from the gentle, refined man you knew, it scared and excited you. The way took control was the most erotic thing you've experienced in a long time.

He flipped you over and pressed you down onto the bed, straddling you. His pupils were blown wide, his lips stained red with blood, his breathing heavy. You tried to reach up and touch him, but he pinned your wrists down. You lay there, unable to move, completely at his mercy. You had never felt so safe and loved in your entire life.

He freed your wrists kissed them gently, a soothing gesture that contrasted with the roughness from earlier. His lips trailed down your arms, kissing, sucking, and nipping at your skin. You shuddered as his breath ghosted against your neck.

You tugged at his shirt, and he let you strip him of it, his bare skin warm and firm against your own. You ran your hands over his chest, relishing the feel of him.

He pulled off his pants, laying down beside you, your naked bodies intertwining. You stared up at him, a soft smile on your lips. He returned it, his gaze unguarded and gentle. He captured your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands stroking your face and hair.

"I'm sorry for being a fool," you said softly, your eyes glassy with tears.

"Shhh," he murmured, nuzzling your neck. "You have nothing to be sorry for,"

"I do," you insisted. "I love you, I've always loved you. I was just...I was just scared to admit it, to myself or anyone else."

You looked up at him, your expression vulnerable, your eyes pleading. He smiled softly and brushed his lips against yours, a gentle kiss, almost a question.

"Be mine, only mine," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"Yes," you breathed, your heart hammering in your chest. "Always."

He parted your legs and slowly eased inside of you, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. He began moving his hips in a rhythmic motion, his fingers gripping the sheets.

You looked into his eyes, feeling whole. He was giving you such pleasure, and his love radiated from him, engulfing you. Everything behind his eyes, the trust and tenderness, the pain and loneliness, you saw all of it.

It made you feel like you were part of his inner world. He was baring his soul to you, letting you in and you were doing the same, letting him see beyond all of the walls and boundaries, right into the depths of your heart and spirit.

And the intensity of it all wasn't scary, it felt liberating, it felt right. His body was just a shell for his fire, for the overwhelming love he felt for you. You both weren't physical beings anymore, but something beyond. Like you are one entity, one flame, burning bright.

You couldn't really describe how you felt, but there was this sense of completion, like you've found something that had been missing all this time. You could see it in his eyes too, a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he looked lighter somehow.

You two were making love, and you were both acutely aware of it. There was no mistaking this for anything less, even if you tried. Time seemed to stand still and the outside world fell away, leaving only the two of you. No past or future, just the present.

You didn't need to talk, there was no need for words. You could feel his thoughts, and you could feel him understand yours, the two of you harmonizing and flowing with each other in an endless, gentle rhythm.

This was what he wanted all this time, to show you what sex can really mean when it is shared between two souls, two hearts. Not just animalistic fucking, but pure love-making, a deeper level of intimacy. And you understood now, you were becoming one.

You didn't know how long you had been making love, it could have been hours, or maybe it was days. All you knew was that it was the best experience of your life.

He was being serious when he said he was going to keep you in his bed until you understood. And now you do, now you understand what it means to be loved by him. What it is like to be part of him, to share that connection, that bond.

Your bodies were covered with sweat, entangled as one, both of you out of breath. Every muscle was sore but you didn't care. You were drunk off his love.

"Can we stay like this forever?" You asked, your eyes half closed, exhaustion setting in.

"Yes," He whispered, caressing your cheek. "Because you are mine, all mine,"

"Yours," you said sleepily, snuggling into him.

This was just one night together, a small taste of what being with him was going to be like, and you knew you would never be the same again. He had destroyed your walls and torn down every boundary you had built around yourself.

He held your bleeding heart in his hands, and instead of crushing it, he gave you his own.

{Moodboard->}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 10 days

Text

Smoking and other new things (M)

Part two of the I'd Do Anything Series

Summary: Since y/n can't tell anyone she fucked Jeonghan, she has to resort to other methods of achieving her original goal of making people see her in a different, less innocent light.

Warnings: Smoking, talk of drugs, college party- but not Jackson Wang's, skewed perceptions of 'innocence', blow job, throat fucking, dom!jeonghan, sub!yn, inexperienced!yn, creampie, rough sex, semi-public sex, light degredation, kinda mean!jeonghan, treats (don't ask), lots of saliva, minimal impact play

A.N. I just want it known that most of the experiences that y/n explores in this are experiences I TOO am unexperienced. My best friend was google, and the hits of vapes and cigarettes I took SOLELY for research on this fic. don't bully me pls </3

The great thing about the events of this past week was that unlike what anyone would have believed in and out of high school, you were finally not a virgin.

You had had multiple people make jokes with you that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone until you were married and even then they joked that you would wait forever after that.

Because somewhere along the line people became convinced that good kid also equaled prude.

So now, excitingly, you had physical proof that you weren’t a prude…

And you couldn’t tell anyone.

You tapped at your desk in aggravation, your finished chemistry work sitting captive beneath your hand.

What the fuck was the point in all of this? Sure in the moment it had all made sense, because Jeonghan was hot, and you two were alone, and you had wanted to be fucked so badly. But to so easily agree to not tell anyone.

What was the point? What was the point?

It wasn’t like you had only wanted to have sex with Jeonghan to brag about it. Having sex with a specific person wasn’t a brag, but now if you were to make some broad statement about how actually I have had sex before and I also did anal, and he creampied both of my holes- I even have a safe word but I can’t tell you who it was but I mean trust me it happened no one would believe you.

It sounded like you were just making up crazier details to make it more outrageous and therefore believable.

So, so frustrating…

You considered silently what to do with your weekend. You had gotten your homework done by now, and it was a Friday night. This was the perfect chance for you to do something else to change everyone’s opinions on you, but you didn’t even know where to start.

Okay… Not true. You could just go back to square one: Drugs.

And thanks to Jeonghan, you knew just where to go.

You pulled out your phone and opened Hansol’s contact.

Hey. I need drugs.

You thought that was simple enough and within only a few minutes your phone was buzzing. You picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, what the fuck?”

You pursed your lips, and tapped your index finger against the desk.

“What?”

“You can’t just text me that you need drugs,” Hansol clarified, sounding a bit annoyed that he needed to do so. Your eyes trailed to the side.

“You sound like Jeonghan.”

“What?” Hansol replied, confusion etching his voice. You didn’t elaborate.

“What should I say to you if I want drugs if I can’t just text you?” You asked.

Hansol sighed.

“Ask me in person?”

“But-“

You heard noise in the background and Hansol turned away from the phone, he spoke but his voice was muffled. Jealousy shot through your chest.

“Are you at a party right now?” You blurted before you could think twice about it. Hansol was quiet for a few seconds.

“… Yes….”

You planted both of your feet firmly on the ground.

“Let me come!”

“Y/n….”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, already getting to your feet to get changed. You switched the phone onto speaker as you began to rummage through your closet.

“Y/n, it’s just…. Really not your scene,” Hansol warned.

“It can be my scene!” You insisted as you ripped your shirt off. You grabbed your phone again, turning it off speaker and smashing it against your face. “Hansol, please, I promise I won’t stand out at all. It’ll be just like I’m one of the guys.”

You physically winced at your own words, and silence followed your statement. Silence that lasted for so long that you thought that surely you had ruined your chance completely.

“... Fine.”

“Really?!”

“But y/n. You have to be…” He let out a sound of frustration. “Good? Fuck. I don’t know, but everyone will be so pissed at me if I’m the one who invited you to this party and you get hurt or some shit.”

You weren’t really listening to Hansol at this point.

“I’ll see you soon Hansol!” You insisted. “Don’t forget to text me the address.”

You tried not to let what Hansol had said bother you too much, because who cared if he was still sheltering you when you had actually gotten the invite? You couldn’t help the excitement that was buzzing through your body at the fact that you were finally going to be at a party.

You weren’t sure what to expect, all you did know was that any college party was going to be either exactly like the movies or nothing like them at all.

You found the address of the house easy enough, and to start off the party certainly wasn’t as out of control as you had seen in films. There weren’t people throwing beer cans out of windows, and the music couldn’t be heard from all the way down the block but it did look like there were a lot of people inside.

Outside there were a handful of people talking with red solo cups in their hands, one of them being Hansol. As soon as you got out of your Uber, he saw you and waved you over.

“Hey,” he greeted as you joined him on the steps. He glanced over your outfit, a simple crop top and some jeans. “Good outfit.”

And you could tell by his voice that he was genuinely impressed. You couldn’t help the large smile that broke out over your lips.

“Thank you!” You said brightly. You peeked around his body at the party, and just as you did Hansol raised his vape to his mouth. You watched him, your heart thumping in your chest.

Vaping. Perfectly legal, perfectly safe. You could totally vape, and people would start to see you a little differently. Hansol seemed to watch your gaze and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you… Do you want a hit…?” He asked uncertainly. Your eyes lit up.

“Can I?” You asked. Hansol chewed unsurely on his bottom lip.

“Do you really want to?”

You nodded eagerly and so he sighed and handed it to you. You took the small piece of plastic and pressed it to your lips, but your hesitation was evident. Hansol sighed, that nervous expression still on his face.

“You have to slowly inhale the vapour, hold it in your mouth for just a second, and then open your mouth, breath in the vapour and exhale,” Hansol instructed. You nodded, trying to follow his instructions but when you tried to finally breathe in the vapour, you started to cough. Hansol took the vape from your fingers.

“It takes practice,” he said, but he looked more nervous than you felt. “Do you want a drink?”

He led you into the party, weaving through the groups of people. There were people playing beer pong, others standing around talking, some people were grinding on each other on the dance floor. What you knew for sure was that everyone was drunk.

You needed to get drunk.

Hansol walked right past the bowl of some sort of punch that was on a flimsy collapsable table and instead led you over to the fridge where he pulled out an unopened bottle of Corona beer. You pouted and pointed at the punch bowl.

“Solo cup,” you whined. He gave you another nervous look and instead, held the bottle out towards you more firmly.

“Unopened,” he pressed. You sighed, and decided to just take whatever alcohol you could get. Maybe you would try the punch later when Hansol wasn’t hovering over your shoulder as if he were your babysitter.

Your eyes trailed over the people at the party, trying to figure out who you knew, and who you could try to talk to. Before you could really take in your surroundings, a hand came to your back, and you jumped in surprise.

“Well, is that little y/nnie or are my eyes deceiving me?” The person bellowed. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. His lips curled up into a smile. “It is.”

You sucked in a small breath.

“Seobin?”

He grinned lazily.

“The one and only.”

Seobin was one of the boys that you knew from your time in high school. It may have been a while but you would recognize him on sight. (Considering he had been one of the more popular boys in school.) Seobin had never even talked to you before, and he certainly had never been this close to you.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you knocked his hands off your shoulders, which he shrugged off like it had been his decision in the first place. He patted your head like you were a dog and looked over at Hansol.

“What’s little Miss Perfect doing here?” He asked, as if you weren’t standing right there. Hansol shrugged, still looking wildly uncomfortable.

“Y/n wanted to come,” Hansol shrugged.

“OoOoh,” Seobin said excitedly. He turned back to look at you.

“Looking for some way to change the way people think about you?” Seobin cooed lightly. You pressed your lips together in thought. “Looking for someone to make you seem, less pure?”

Your thoughts drifted to Jeonghan, and your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“I already have someone to make me less pure,” you mumbled softly. “Don’t need you to make me seem it.”

Seobin laughed in surprise at your brazeness and he clapped his hand on your shoulder, and tightened his grip so that you were still in place. He leaned forward, his nose nearly brushing yours.

“You’re telling me you’re not a virgin anymore?”

Your face burned as Seobin got knocked off of you.

“Fuck off,” Hansol bit out. “Stop messing with her.”

Seobin shrugged off Hansol.

“I’m not messing with her,” he grumbled. He looked at you. “Am I messing with you?”

You pursed your lips.

“I’m not a virgin,” you said, sounding like a whiney kid. Both Hansol and Seobin stared at you, before finally Seobin burst out in a loud obnoxious laugh.

“I need a fucking cigarette.”

You watched as Seobin dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small white box.

You stared at the box in Seobin’s hand, your heart thumping in your chest.

“I’ll just be a second,” he commented. He raised his free hand to pat your cheek condescendingly. “Why don’t you wait here for me huh?”

Your face burned.

“What? You don’t think that I can smoke?” You blurted, before remembering that you were supposed to be keeping your cool. Regardless, Seobin laughed.

“Can you smoke?” He asked.

“Well….” Your foot tapped against the ground in frustration. “I can certainly learn.”

Seobin’s eyebrows rose in amusement, and Hansol grabbed you by your forearm.

“Y/n,” he hissed, pulling you towards him a bit. “What… What are you doing?”

You shrugged.

“I’m going to learn to smoke a cigarette.”

Hansol looked pained.

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“Why not?”

He bit down on his bottom lip nervously and you took that as your opportunity to shake him off and follow Seobin out of the party. Once you two were out in the cool air, Seobin led you so that your back was on the wall of the house. He pulled out a cigarette and gave it to you.

You took it nervously in your hands, noting that it was a bit… Squishier..? Than you thought it would be.

Seobin poked his cigarette into his mouth, clicking his lighter to light the end of his cigarette. He took a small puff and then sighed, gesturing to you.

“Put it in your mouth,” he said pointedly. Your eyes widened a bit and you did as he asked. Seobin grinned.

“How obedient. Maybe you aren’t a virgin.”

Your face burned but as it did Seobin leaned forward and flicked his lighter on again, lighting the end of the cigarette. He put the lighter back in his pocket. He pulled his cigarette out of his mouth briefly.

“Breathe into your mouth, down into your throat, and then exhale.”

You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing as you breathed in. You didn’t really feel like any smoke was entering your mouth. You kind of liked the texture of the cigarette between your lips.

Your eyes squinted at Seobin who had decided to pin you against the wall with one hand while he smoked with the other, watching you in amusement. You tried to breathe in again, and this time it hit your throat.

You burst into a coughing fit, which made Seobin laugh at you. He plucked the cigarette out of your mouth and grinned at you.

“Are you sure you can smoke?”

You glared at Seobin and he stuck the cigarette in his mouth. He stared at you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You know, you’re actually really pretty.”

Color flared to your cheeks at the comment.

“If you really are still a virgin and looking to lose that status…”

Oh my god, was this really all it took? To head to a party, and drink a little beer, and badly smoke a cigarette and then all of a sudden Seobin would want to fuck you. You couldn’t believe it. How easy this would have been if you had just cut out the middle man and come straight here.

“I…” You trailed off and Seobin took a step forward. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew smoke in your face. You turned your head to cough and as you did, his fingers came into your hair, and he led your gaze back to his.

“I can make you choke on a lot of things y/n.”

Your face burned red and you shook your head quickly, your mind flashing to that of Jeonghan. The fast image of his eyes flashing in your mind had you lightly pushing at Seobin’s chest.

“I-I think I’ve choked enough tonight,” you said with a nervous laugh. Seobin’s eyes were still lingering on your lips- Oh my god you really were hot.

“Shame,” Seobin finally said. His eyes flickered back up to yours.

“But if you change your mind.”

If you changed your mind you could just call Seobin.

What a crazy thing to think. That you had options.

You stayed outside for a bit longer, begging Seobin to let you try and smoke again. He gave you the cigarette after you begged a little bit, and you got more used to it after half an hour. You didn’t like it, but you did get used to it.

After you went back inside you drank some more, and Hansol started to finally loosen up a bit, less worried about you as you melded in with the crowd of people.

And by the time you got home that night, drunk and tired, you finally felt like you were actually starting to fit in.

Somehow you had managed to get yourself invited to a study session with Hansol and his friends on one of the higher floors of the library in their own study room. After hours of studying and talking, Hansol started to pack up his things and he looked across the room at you.

"If you really want..." Hansol's voice was a bit hesitant as his fingers clutched around the small dark vape cartridge in his hand. "We were all going to get high and watch Finding Nemo."

He shrugged off-handedly as if it was something so mundane to him he couldn't imagine you wanting to do it. And that hesitation made sense because to him, this was mundane. You had heard him and Irene making these plans around you a million times and yet you had never gotten an invite.

But today you had somehow managed to get one.

You tried not to come off as too excited.

"Sure, it's been a while since I've seen Finding Nemo."

Hansol nodded, a smile flickering across his lips as he turned over his shoulder, back toward the room that you two had just come from. You followed him, both of you sticking your heads back through the doorway.

"Y/n and I are headed out," he announced. You sent a timid smile Seungcheol's way, and as you did you turned around, excited to follow Hansol off but instead of following you ended up colliding.

You glanced up, squinting to figure out who was staring down at you with an incredulous expression on his face.

You immediately straightened up, pressing your lips into a tight thin line.

"Oh, Jeonghan, you just missed us," Hansol commented. Jeonghan's eyes flicked over to Hansol's for only a second.

"Us?"

"We're meeting up with Irene, Mark, Eunbi, and Yerin," Hansol elaborated and he so clearly didn't see the expression on Jeonghan's face that you did.

You looked away from Jeonghan, and instead found a spot on the floor, wondering why you felt like a child who had just gotten caught at a party by their parents.

"Y/n's going with you?" He asked. Hansol hummed.

"Not as innocent as we thought I guess," Hansol commented. "Asked for a hit of my vape."

"Yeah?"

His gaze was practically burning into you.

"And you were telling me about that party you went to last-"

Your eyes widened and you darted forward, your hand covering Hansol's mouth before you could consider the repercussions for your actions. Hansol stared at you in confusion, and you forced a laugh, letting your hand slide down to his shoulder.

"Can't tell everyone about the party."

"Considering that Seobin taught you how to smoke a cigarette I would think you would be ecstatic to tell everyone about the party."

There was dead silence between you three, in fact, you weren't even breathing.

"You know, considering the fact you're trying to make people see you more seriously."

Why did Hansol feel the need to double back on that? Why did that just make everything worse?

"You know what? That does make me see y/n in a different light."

You risked a glance up at Jeonghan, who had a scarily calm expression on his face.

"Why don't I walk y/n to Irene's? Didn't Soonyoung have some project he needed to talk to you about?" Jeonghan asked, directing his attention fully to Hansol. Hansol's eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his hands.

"Shit, you're right."

As he thought over Jeonghan's proposition his hand raised to his face, and the light on his vape lit up, the artificial smoke drifting out of his mouth after only a moment.

"Y/n, Jeonghan can get you there. I'll be there in just a few moments."

He held out his vape just the same way that he had a few minutes ago, expecting you to take another hit. You decided not to overthink it. You grabbed the vape, breathed in too fast, and a cool and sharp bit of air and smoke hit the back of your throat. You coughed out in surprise but mostly kept the sudden reaction concealed.

Hansol smiled.

"You're getting used to it. I'll see you in a second."

And then he was rushing off, leaving you all alone with Jeonghan at your side.

It wasn't like you were doing anything wrong. You weren't doing anything that anyone your age had told you not to. You were just trying new things, and hanging out with new people and... Making everyone think differently of you.

Now that Hansol thought you were willing to try all of these new things he was looking at you differently. No longer that smile that haunted you when people asked you if you wanted to smoke with them out of convention. The look in their eyes that said that they knew you were going to turn down the offer, and that look that screamed to you that they looked at you as more of a perfect porcelain doll than a human.

And yet, looking away from Hansol's expression, the way that said that he finally thought you were normal, you turned and looked to Jeonghan's and you saw something else.

He didn't seem to see you as normal necessarily, and there was disappointment, but that wasn't everything that was there... He didn't look at you like you had suddenly changed into something that ruined his perception of you... What was that look in his eyes?

"Cigarettes?" He asked you after a few moments. You stared at him and nodded. "How long were you at that party?"

Your hand raised subconsciously to the eyeliner you hadn't completely scrubbed from off your undereyes. He huffed.

"And you're vaping now too?"

All things that you knew your parents would shame you for, and you felt shame. You felt like you had disappointed Jeonghan, but... Not the way that you felt like you should feel.

"You want me to teach you something today?" Jeonghan asked you. He closed the distance between you two, and dug his fingers into the roots of your hair. "Something like what I taught you the last time we were alone?"

Your breath hitched.

"Yes sir," you barely managed to get out, because as soon as the confirmation was out of your lips Jeonghan's lips were smashing into yours. Your hands quickly fell to his arm for purchase, your eyes smashed shut as every part of you forgot how to think.

You didn't even realize that you were desperately trying to press yourself into the kiss until Jeonghan had pulled away and you realized you were on the tips of your toes.

You stared at him, chest heaving, ready to be obedient for him.

"Today you're going to learn how to be quiet."

Jeonghan shoved you towards a closet and smashed the two of you inside of it. He then dug his fingers into your hair again and forced you down to your knees.

"Today you're going to learn how to suck dick."

You felt your mouth growing wetter as you stared up at Jeonghan, the dim light of the closet framing the dark look in his eyes.

"And today you're going to learn how to hide when you've done something naughty."

You swallowed hard, nodding stupidly as Jeonghan released your hair. He began to undo his belt, the metal clattering loudly.

“Have you told anyone about us?” He asked, and to punctuate the question he snapped his belt. You jumped at the loud crack, watching as he tossed it to the side. You shook your head in negation to his statement.

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed as he unzipped his pants.

“Use your words y/n,” he said simply.

“I-I haven’t told anyone,” you managed to get out. A smile flickered over Jeonghan’s lips.

“Good girl,” he cooed. Your face burned under the attention and Jeonghan’s hands wrapped around the base of his cock, drawing your eyes back to it.

Already the thing was standing hard and heavy in front of you, the tip of his cock only a few inches from your face.

“You’ve never sucked cock before?” Jeonghan confirmed. You shook your head slowly, your eyes not leaving the length of his cock. That had been inside of you. Not long ago, Jeonghan had been fucking you with that and you had taken it (as far as you were aware) like a fucking champ. You could hardly believe it.

Jeonghan suddenly tapped the tip of his cock to your lips.

“Pay attention,” he mumbled. Your eyes flickered back up to his, an apologetic expression crossing your face.

“Giving head is easy,” Jeonghan finally said, he gave his cock a few strokes as he spoke. “Keep your teeth off of my dick, and focus on taking me as far into your mouth as your comfortable with.”

He eyed you for a moment.

“Why don’t you touch it a little first? Get comfortable.”

The way that Jeonghan was talking to you about sucking his dick was absolutely humiliating. Like you were a kid trying to ride a bike for the first time. Still, you did as you were told. You tentatively wrapped your hands around his cock, staring at the tip as you gave it a hesitant pump.

You looked at Jeonghan for approval which he gave with a small nod.

“The head of the cock is the most sensitive part of it,” Jeonghan said, his breath catching a little as the comment made you immediately swipe your thumb over his tip. You felt a little proud to have made him react like that, so after another pump you did it again.

He readjusted the way he was standing.

“Lick it,” he instructed softly, and his fingers came to rest in your hair again. “Just a bit, get me wet with your tongue.”

You nodded slowly, and tilted his cock up a little so that you could give his cock a very small lick. It felt a little awkward, but you still licked again, and again, deciding to treat it like it was icecream.

You didn’t think that the very minimal stimulation would be good at all, but as you started to lick up the base of his cock, Jeonghan’s fingers tightened a bit in your hair. His mouth let out soft little pants as you licked across the expanse of his dick, before you finally grew a bit impatient. You licked the tip of his cock, your tongue pressing against his slit. He let out a barely contained groan, and so you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth.

His fingers gripped at your hair, but you still sucked at his tip, the saltiness of his precum spreading over your tongue.

“Deeper,” Jeonghan grunted out.

You glanced up at him, but his eyes were closed. You slowly began to work more of him into your mouth, but you only had a little bit more of him in your mouth when you stopped, your mouth already feeling full around him.

“Is that it?” Jeonghan bit out impatiently. Your face heated up even more and you tried to suck more of his cock into your mouth, but you ended up choking on it. You pulled off of him completely, little tears sprouting in the corners of your eyes as you coughed.

You hadn’t really imagined that sucking cock would be this hard.

Jeonghan sighed and the grip he had on your hair loosened, his hand sliding down your cheek so that his thumb could rub you just under your chin.

“It’s a process…” He said softly. You caught your breath and nodded, before raising your head a little bit to look back up at him.

“How many girls have given you head?” You asked. The question clearly caught him off guard, his fingers left your face.

“Well, that’s a bit personal-”

“I’m going to do it better,” you mumbled softly. You dragged the tip of his cock back to your lips and you closed your eyes as you slowly worked more of him into your mouth. You decided to do it more like you had seen in porn videos. You eased his cock into your mouth, and worked it in and out as you slowly made your way further down on hin.

“Just take it slow,” Jeonghan encouraged you, his hand was on you again, his thumb rubbing your jaw. You closed your eyes tightly and pushed his cock deeper into your mouth. You got a bit deeper than you had the first time before you started to gag again but this time you tried to push through it.

You forced more of him down your throat.

“Don’t push it too hard,” Jeonghan warned. You ignored him, and choked harder around his cock, saliva dipping down your chin. Jeonghan’s hand came back to your hair and he tightly pulled you off of him. You coughed again, gasping.

“I said don’t push too hard,” Jeonghan reasserted. You groaned, your head tilting a little bit.

“I just…” You trailed off as you caught your breath.

“Sweetheart-” For some reason, the nickname made your face burn. “What you are trying to do, isn’t a blow job. You know why your choking? Because you’re taking my dick down your throat.”

Your face blazed.

“Well, that feels better than just a blow job, right?” You asked hesitantly. Jeonghan’s lips flickered into a smile.

“Immensely,” he agreed, and then his face morphed into something more serious. “But you’re a beginner. And deep throating is an expert move-”

“Just give me advice on how to choke less,” you blurted out, not interested in hearing Jeonghan tell you that you were worse at sucking his dick than everyone else before you. He raised an unamused eyebrow at the interruption. “Please?”

“Breathe through your nose,” Jeonghan mumbled back. “If you’re so insistent.”

You nodded, and sucked in a deep breath before leaning forward again. You sucked him back into your mouth, and like before you eased it slowly deeper and deeper into your mouth. Once it was pushing into your throat you were beginning to gag again, but you tried to do what Jeonghan had suggested and just breathe through your nose.

He was yanking you off of his cock again and you fought to catch your breath, spit dripping down your chin.

“You’re doing fine,” Jeonghan mumbled reassuringly. You swallowed some of the spit in your mouth and looked up at him.

“Does it feel good at least?”

He stared at you in confusion.

“What?”

“When I choke on your dick.”

A strange looked flashed in Jeonghan’s eyes and he leaned down towards you. His lips quirked up in a small smile and his thumb pushed into your mouth suddenly. You weren’t sure why, but you sucked on the finger regardless.

“It feels amazing when you choke on my cock,” he mumbled softly. “And I would like nothing more than to fuck that little throat as hard and deep as I want to… Holding back is… Difficult.”

Your face darkened a little and you stared up at him, your eyes wide, the question in them hopefully going unsaid-

“You want me to?” Jeonghan asked, amusement etched in his voice. “You want me to fuck your throat like I’m some kind of animal?”

Embarrassment swirled through your chest, and your pussy burned at the way Jeonghan said it. You nodded once.

“You’ve got to beg me for it, y/n,” Jeonghan chided lightly. “I want to hear you begging for me to fuck your little virgin throat.”

Your eyes fluttered shut in embarrassment.

“Please…” You whispered.

“Please what?”

Jeonghan’s thumb prodded at your chin, rubbing your saliva onto it.

“Please fuck my throat…”

Jeonghan’s hum of approval sent arousal thrumming through your body.

“Now that’s a good girl.”

His fingers grasped both sides of your face and he tapped your cheek to make you open your eyes back up.

“Pinch my thigh to stop,” he ordered. You nodded once.

“O-okay..” You mumbled. Jeonghan grinned, and then he was easing his cock down your throat.

At first, he was being careful. He slowly eased his cock into your mouth, his fingers digging into your face as he tried not to force himself too deep too fast. His moans stuttered as he eased himself in and out of your mouth, his breathing strangled.

But the second his cock dipped too far into your throat and you choked, he was losing control.

He forced his cock so deep into your throat, you felt like you were breathing him in. You gagged around his cock, but just as he was pulling out, he was pushing in just as deep and hard. You focused on keeping your teeth out of the way at first, but the more he fucked your mouth, your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed as carefully as you could through your nose…

His moans sent heat right down to your core. Your whole body ached with the need to be touched as he fucked your throat like he needed to do so to live.

You couldn’t believe the sounds he was making. Couldn’t believe that even though saliva was dripping down your chin and you were choking he was still using you like you were some kind of toy.

Out of nowhere, Jeonghan pulled himself out of your mouth.

“Are you ready for me?” You gasped for air, your eyebrows strewn in confusion. Ready for what?

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, frustrated.

“You better be fucking opening yourself up for me,” Jeonghan elaborated. Because your mouth is hot…” He began to slide down towards you. “And tight…” He took your free hand, shoving it into your panties. “And so so pretty…” His lips pressed to yours. “Especially stretched around my cock.”

He smiled, and tapped your face with his hand. Not quite sharp enough to be considered a slap.

“But I want to fuck that pretty pussy, and i expect you to be ready for it.”

He stood back up, towering over you again.

“It’s not my job to make sure you’re open enough for my cock.”

A shiver ran through your body, at both the insuation that he would fuck you- stretched out enough for his cock or not- and at the excitement that he was going to fuck you again. Here?!

Your rice purity score was changing rapidly.

You tried to push two fingers into your pussy, but it was a bit of a struggle, so you focused on just the one for the moment.

Jeonghan tapped the tip of his cock to your lips again and you opened your mouth obediently. He took you by the roots of your hair and pushed his cock down your throat. Your fingers stilled inside you as you coughed around his cock, but he mostly ignored it.

Besides, you still had one of your hands free, and rested on his thigh. An easy cop out if you needed it.

As you tried to focus on your breathing you also tried to refocus on fingering yourself again. This time you managed two fingers into yourself and you started to scissor those two in and out of your pussy.

Even if you were just at home on your own with one of your dildos you would be rushing this. Honestly, you’d probably get impatient right away and just start to force the dildo into you as is, but since you couldn’t control the timing of your current situation, you focused on your fingers.

Jeonghan pressed your head against the wall so he could fuck your mouth better, but he paused for a moment, reaching down so that he could lift up the corners of your skirt. He saw your hand stuffed in your underwear and a curse mixed with a moan left his lips. He pulled you up by your hair.

“Panties off,” he instructed you. “Want to see that little pussy dripping all over the floor.”

You immediately struggled to step out of your underwear, and once you did you were back in an awkward squat, your back and head against the wall as you fingered yourself and Jeonghan fucked your throat.

Every now and then, Jeonghan would reach down and pull the hem of your skirt up so that he could watch your fingering and the way that your own spit was dripping down your chin onto your shirt, but you secretly thought it was an excuse to let you breathe.

After a while though, Jeonghan couldn’t keep up the pattern. He yanked you up by your hair, and shoved you into one of the shelves against the wall. Your cheek pressed into old wood, your hands knocking over some books.

“What’s your safe word?” He asked you, as if that’s what you were thinking about when the tip of his cock was sliding in your folds. And to make all matters worse he had you mangled in such a way that moving was impossible, with one hand knotted into your hair.

You squirmed a bit, and Jeonghan’s tip slipped into your pussy, only to be immediately drawn out. A sound of frustration you didn’t even realize you knew how to make was forcibly ripped from your throat, and Jeonghan pulled you back by your hair.

“Your safe word.”

Right. You blurted out your safe word, your fingers finding purchase on the shelf just in time for Jeonghan to sink himself inside of you.

Your fingers clenched tightly at the stretch, grateful that Jeonghan had given you so much time earlier to stretch yourself out. Jeonghan shifted his hands so that he was pressing his palm into your back, pushing you down hard.

“Oh aren’t you so good for me?” Jeonghan pressed lightly. His hand left your back for only a second, and just as you straightened up his hand was smacking your ass.

You cried out in surprise, the hit sending warmth through your body.

“Don’t fucking move,” Jeonghan growled. His hand pushed down your back again hard, forcing your ass out more. “If I put you in a position you don’t fucking move.”

You whimpered back your response and this time when he pulled his hand away from you, you stayed in position. Even so, he smacked your ass again, and you cried out as he began to set a hard and fast pace of fucking you.

“That’s better,” he praised lightly. His hand brushed your hair off of his neck so it was more exposed to him, and then his hand was pressing down on it, pressing you harder into the shelf. “You’re starting to learn to take dick so well…”

As he spoke he pummeled his cock into your pussy. You let your forehead hit the shelf as you raised a hand to your mouth, trying to muffle your screams as he pushed so deep inside of you that you thought you were going to break- No amount of stretching yourself out on your fingers could prepare you for how deep his cock was pushing inside of you.

“That’s right,” Jeonghan cooed, forcing his cock even harder into you, so hard the shelves shook around you. “Better keep quiet. Don’t want anyone to hear…”

He laughed at his own words.

“Well, you do want people to hear don’t you? You would love for someone to find out that you let me rail you in a closet wouldn’t you?”

You whimpered, your eyes closing firmly shut as you tried to ignore him, tried to focus on keeping your voice down.

“You know, your hovering dangerously far into slut territory.”

You squeezed around his cock, crying out as the simple use of the word made a moan rip out of you.

“Oh fuck, I can’t handle it when you squeeze my cock like that,” Jeonghan groaned, his voice rising in pitch as his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still so he could fuck you even harder.

“You know what else makes you squeeze my cock like that?”

He smacked your ass, and as the pain shot through your body, just as he said, your pussy clenched around his cock. He moaned loudly.

“I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum…” He moaned. “Beg for it y/n…”

You knew that if you let your hand leave your mouth you would be screaming for Jeonghan to fuck you harder, but it seemed Jeonghan didn’t care about that because in the few seconds you were considering your options his hand was striking even harder on your ass.

“I said beg.”

“Please-” You blurted out, trying to keep your voice to a steady level, but your whole body was bouncing on his cock. Your heart was thumping in your chest, your own orgasm was rapidly approaching.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Jeonghan please come inside of me,” you begged. “Need it deep… Need to feel you for days… Need to-”

Jeonghan’s cock twitched inside of you and he forced his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them hard as a way to keep yourself from screaming as thick ropes of hot cum shot out, deep into your pussy. You came around his cock almost instantly, your pussy milking him of every drop of cum. He gave you a few hard and deep thrust before finally pulling his fingers and cock out of you.

You gasped as you tried to keep your grip on the shelf, your legs shaking as you tried to get yourself together. But, you finally gave up on that and let yourself lower to the floor, your back hitting the wall as your pussy dripped cum. You did your best to try and catch your breath, silence falling between the two of you.

Jeonghan dug into his pocket, and, unbelievably enough pulled out a chocolate bar. You panted where you were now slumped against the ground and stared at him as he unwrapped it a little, breaking off one of the pieces.

“Open,” he said firmly.

You wouldn’t have argued with him no matter the situation. You opened your mouth and let him put the candy in your mouth. He watched you in silence for a little, waiting for you to finish eating that piece of candy before putting another piece in your mouth.

“Y/n…” His tone was scary.

“What?” You asked him.

“Why are you…” He trailed off, sounding a bit frustrated. “It’s just…” He was struggling greatly with what to say. “You’re an adult.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“I’m an adult,” you agreed. He stared at you, broke off another piece of candy and put it in your mouth.

“And all of your friends are now adults,” he continued. “And adults, aren’t bothered with superficial things. They care about a person for… That person.”

You stared at him, and opened your mouth, only to be silenced with another piece of candy.

“Cigarettes are bad for you,” Jeonghan said quickly. Your wide-eyed expression dropped to one of dread, and just as you went to argue with him, he covered your mouth with the palm of his hand. “And you shouldn’t be vaping just so Hansol thinks you’re cool!”

You glared at Jeonghan.

“You don’t need to change anyone’s opinion on you,” Jeonghan said weakly. “You could… You could do anything and people are still going to treat you the same.”

You pinched Jeonghan’s wrist, and he gave you a more pointed look.

“I’m serious.”

You pinched him again and his hand fell to his side.

“Hansol invited me to a party Jeonghan,” you said. You shifted so that you were sitting more upright. “And then Seobin taught me how to smoke and he almost kissed me- And he’d never even looked at me in high school.” You waved your hand through the air. “And today Hansol called me cool.”

“Hansol thought you were cool before,” Jeonghan said. “He only said that to me because he thinks I don’t think you’re cool.”

Your ears perked up at that. Did Jeonghan think you were cool?

“And you don’t want someone like Seobin to kiss you,” he sounded disgusted. “If you wanted someone like Hansol, or Hyuk to kiss you I would get it but not someone like Seobin.”

“Jeonghan I don’t care who wants to kiss me. I just want someone to kiss me.”

The serious expression on his face cracked a little, his lips up-quirked.

“Well, I know someone who could do that for you,” he said, his voice dropping a bit. A smile spread across your lips too, but it seemed to remind Jeonghan of what he had been trying to say. “You don’t need to do all these new things if you are just trying to change people’s perception of you.”

“People don’t take me seriously Jeonghan,” you argued back. This time, growing frustrated of the fact that you had just let him rail you just so that he could lecture you after. You got to your feet, and began to put your clothes back on. Jeonghan just watched you from where he was crouched. “No one takes me seriously.”

“I take you seriously,” Jeonghan replied back firmly. You eyed him.

“You didn’t take me seriously until I demanded you sell me drugs.”

Something flashed in Jeonghan’s eyes and he got up in a flash.

“That’s not true.”

His tone was stern, but as soon as he was standing he seemed to notice something on your face. He sighed his frustration and reached forward, his thumb brushing over your cheeks, just by the corner of your lips.

“If you think that someone will only like you because you do drugs and let them fuck you anywhere you shouldn’t be friends with them.”

You stared at Jeonghan blankly.

“Do whatever you want y/n,” Jeonghan said after a moment’s pause. “But your friends. Your real ones, they don’t like it. I would be saying this to anyone. Take it from the black sheep. Don’t do anything that will get you hurt.”

He tugged at your shirt so that it fell right on your body, and then he opened the closet door.

“But keep in mind that you have a lot of people who are willing to catch you if you fall.”

He peeked around outside of the closet and then fully stepped out. He gestured for you to follow, and you did. He gave you one more look.

“You haven’t been offering yourself up to people for drugs have you?”

You shook your head wordlessly. He let out a sigh of relief.

“My number is still the same.”

And with that he waved his hand over his shoulder and walked away.

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hispg · 8 months

Text

Fantasize

Pairings: R2! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your new neighbor Leon knows that you're married, but he can't help it but fantasize about you.

Wc: 3.9k

Warnings: smut,unprotected sex,p in v, fingering, dirty thoughts, cheating ( don't be like them), soft dom! Leon, pet names.

An:Sorry for the delay in posting, university has been taking up all my time and I'm also having some personal problems. Anyway, thanks for the 200 followers! And for all the messages I've been receiving, sorry for not answering them all. But please know that I read each one and smile like a fool, thank you for your love <3. I'm preparing a fanfic with Fuckboy! Leon, maybe it'll take a while, but I promise it'll be worth it!

Leon knew you were a married woman, he always knew, ever since he saw the shiny ring on your ring finger. A more than clear sign of your marriage.

Not that it bothered him at first, after all, he had just moved into the same condominium as you. He thought he'd just be another neighbor, but then he was wrong.

But then he started to get close to you, doing simple things like helping you carry the groceries you bought. Even holding the elevator open so you could get in.

Small talk here and there, nothing too personal or anything. Just two people getting to know each other. And by some chance of fate, he ended up finding you an interesting person, the more he talked to you, the more mesmerized he became.

Was it wrong? Of course it was, but he couldn't help fantasizing about you, it was stronger than him.

And frankly nothing improved when he found out that your husband didn't spend much time at home, if you saw him more than twice a month it was pure luck.

You were such a sweet and gentle person, he couldn't understand how your husband didn't mind spending so much time at home. You were alone most of the time, and that legitimately bothered him.

At some point he asked for your number, so he could talk to you often. And indeed he did, he spoke to you almost every day, even if it was just a simple message, but he was interested to know how you were doing.

After a while he found himself thinking about you more than he should, whether at work or when he was alone at home. He didn't know why, but you gradually occupied all his thoughts. Seven days a week, all the time he imagined you, with him.

He knew it was morally wrong, since you were a married woman. Besides, he was only a cop, what could he offer you? Your husband could certainly give you anything you asked for. Just about everything.

Maybe one thing less.

The walls were thin, you could easily hear what was going on from the other side. The adjoining walls of his bedroom gave him the opportunity to hear what was going on on the other side. Which was exactly your bedroom.

It was impossible not to notice the little noises you made, the low squeaks and moans that you swore no one else could hear.

But Leon heard perfectly.

He had keen instincts, perhaps because he was a police officer and needed things to be like that. However, he didn't understand what caused these noises, the moans, the heavy breathing, the gasps that he heard so clearly.

Until one day he realized, it was you touching yourself.

Letting out soft cries, playing with your needy pussy. He could already imagine you arching your body on the bed, clutching the sheets and moaning with every touch.

Incredibly exciting, he thought. Yet he couldn't help imagining the fact that you had no one to do it for you. No one to fill your cunt, to not let you do this job on your own.

And then he realized, your husband could give you everything except one thing. Pleasure.

And that Leon could give you, without a shadow of a doubt.

Every time he heard you doing these things, his mind went wild. Fuck, he could feel his cock getting hard just from that, thinking it could be him.

Imagining you arching and bending your body towards him, while he was buried between your legs. Or rather, how well you could fit him, the gigantic desire he had to fuck you dumb, make you addicted to his cock.

He often tried not to think about it, it was morally wrong, of course. He tried to maintain good behavior, composure, but it was impossible to do that when you were so close to him.

It was even worse when you called him to your house, just to chat and eat the delicious cookies you baked. He didn't know if it was on purpose, but you always wore short clothes to these small gatherings, shorts so short and tight that he could clearly see the curve of your ass. Plus the graceful fact that you didn't wear a bra when you were at home, giving him the opportunity to see your breasts swaying slightly as you walked.

Maybe that's why he would ask for more coffee or cookies, just to see your figure walking around the kitchen, providing the perfect image for his unbridled imagination.

In his mind, his life would only be perfect if he had you by his side, in a routine where he could fuck you every day of the week. Every single day.

At this point, he's lost count of how many times he's jerked off to you, how many times he's dreamt that it was your hand doing the work, not his.

From time to time he even thought about how wrong it was, but by then it was too late, his cum was oozing out all over him, making him let out a slight grunt of pleasure. Spilling it all over his sheets, making a mess.

The next day he would greet you as if nothing had happened, with the biggest innocent smile on his face.

But all his self-control went down the drain once he saw you wearing a tight red nightgown, it was made of silk and fitted your body perfectly.

He couldn't stop staring for a second, and he could already feel something hardening in his body.

"Thank you, sweetheart." You say with a soft smile, looking at him.

The reason he was at your house right now was that he was helping you put a heavy package inside, and maybe he was going to put more than the package inside.

"Nothing at all. Want some help unpacking?" He replied, wiping his uniform a little.

And you didn't know why, but something sparked in you every time you saw him in his uniform. He looked so handsome like that.

"Yes, please." You nod. It was obvious that you didn't need his help for such a simple thing, but if it meant he'd stay longer, then you'd let it be.

All you got from him was a smile, and he started looking in the box for a place to open it, and you went to find a pair of scissors.

Once you returned he was kneeling on the floor, slowly opening the box with his hands. As soon as he looked up, he saw too much, his gaze went straight to your thighs, exactly to the middle of your legs.

At the same moment he blushed, trying to look away. But before either of you could say a word, the lights flickered and went out for good. A sudden blackout.

Leon was the first to react, he stood up abruptly and bumped into you, holding you by the waist to prevent you from falling.

On impulse, you grabbed his shoulders, just to keep your balance. It was only at that moment that you realized how close your face was to his, the way his eyes stared at you intensely, as if for the last time.

Not only that, but you felt a certain bulge in your stomach, and it didn't take more than two seconds for you to understand what it was all about.

Just a brief glimpse of your thighs was enough for him to get hard, and even more so holding you so close.

"I'm sorry..." He whispers awkwardly, still holding you in his arms.

You don't know if it was your instinct, or if it was your body aching for any kind of touch, but before you could imagine it you pushed your lips to his, kissing him with a force you didn't even know you had.

He obviously hesitated, the weight of the act bearing down on his back in an abrupt way. It was so wrong, a part of him just wanted to push you away and say no, but by then he wasn't thinking straight, his body went into overdrive.

It wasn't long before he was moving his lips against yours in pure synchronicity, his fingers curving around your waist, effectively sticking the two of you together. At that moment it was as if nothing else mattered, perhaps it was the lust affecting your thoughts, the bottled-up desire to touch each other.

Too much to describe, and it could only be demonstrated through this physical contact, the way his tongue slid into your mouth, exploring every inch. Taking the time to savor the moment, because he genuinely didn't know if this would be the first and last time.

His hands reached down to lift your nightgown, cupping your ass and pushing you against him even more. His thoughts were racing, but he couldn't stop. Just feeling sorry for your poor husband. Not that would stop him from doing anything.

You were almost in the same situation, except that your mind was foggy, you were already feeling hot and bothered by a simple kiss. A kiss like the one your husband had never been able to give you, and perhaps could never make you feel so aroused by a simple act.

God, if it was so wrong, why did it have to be so good?

Even though you tried to open your mouth to speak at some point, Leon wouldn't let you, he always pressed his lips against yours harder, forcing you to keep quiet. And before he did anything else, he lifted you up by your ass, carrying you across the couch. He was only guided by his senses, since he was more than used to being in your house.

"Shit, we shouldn't have-" you protest, and he shuts you up with another kiss, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you, holding your wrists above your head, preventing you from moving or anything.

Soon you felt his full weight on top of you, as his warm breath hit your cheek, while he nibbled lightly, "It's too late to say no."

Yes, he was right.

Now was not the time for remorse or saying no, because let's face it, it's not like you were going to say no.

And hell, you knew so well that you should say no, but he wasn't helping either. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, kissing and nibbling your neck, making you gasp and squirm under him.

You nestled your hands in his hair, pulling him in for another thirsty kiss. You simply acted like someone who hadn't been touched in months, every little brush against you was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch, remembering what it felt like to have your skin against his, a sensation he wouldn't forget even if he wanted to. All Leon could feel now was pity, pity for your poor husband.

Why was that? Because Leon was sure that he would make you feel like never before, a sensation that your husband could not possibly give you.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he whispers, looking at you with a little smile.

All you did was nod, your flushed and embarrassed face already saying a lot. At the same time as you felt a lust burning throughout your body, there was a guilt that consumed you in an overwhelming way.

If it was so wrong, why did this shit have to be so good?

Your mind was blurred and confused, as if all you could focus on were his touches, the way he was playing with the waistband of your panties, threatening to pull them down at any moment. The way his blue eyes penetrated you, as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

As soon as his lips touched your neck, you felt your body twitch, and a small moan escaped your lips. Each act made your body burn, it had been so long since you'd been touched like this, something about him excited you too much. More than it should.

He took his time, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your neck, shoulders, down to your breasts. Where he made a point of slowly taking off your nightgown, revealing what he wanted, you didn't wear a bra at home, so this was just another advantage for him. As soon as he flicked his tongue out to make contact with your skin, he stopped. Something was bothering him.

His gaze was on your hands, specifically on your ring finger, looking at your wedding ring. Then he took your hand, slowly removing the ring.

"Today you'll be mine, you don't have to wear this." His voice was low and husky, and he didn't care about your ring at all, he just took it off and threw it somewhere in the room.

It would take you some time to find it again.

"Leon I-" He shushed you, pressing two fingers to your lips, forcing you to open wide. Soon you had two fingers in your mouth, and he moved them back and forth, making sure you sucked it all in.

"No talking for today, baby." The velvety voice once again drew a sly whimper from you, making you hold him tight.

His deft fingers moved down to your wet slit, rubbing your entrance in circles, his fingertips doing a marvelous job on you.

"You're touch depraved, aren't you?" Leon asks, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips.

You were so wet, just from simple touches, it wasn't hard to guess that you were the type to get turned on by silly things.

Another whimper escapes your lips, your nails digging into his forearm, and from the smile he gave you, he was certainly enjoying the situation.

The way he knew exactly where to touch, how to touch. It was simply enough to drive you insane. You didn't even know how he did it, but he did.

His fingers found your clit, and as soon as they did, he started stroking it with his thumb, lightly, just to see every reaction you gave.

He would keep each one in his memory, it would be the most vivid memories he'd had in a while.

"So wet, just for me, isn't it?" A pure tease, just to drive you even crazier.

You nodded dumbly, he was all you needed at that moment. You'd never felt this way before, and you wondered how he could do it.

Without warning he slipped a finger into you, stretching your tight walls gently, curling his fingers and searching for your sensitive spots, and he wouldn't stop until he found them.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered huskily, removing his fingers from your mouth so that you could moan for him.

You couldn't do anything more than moan or mumble things here or there, so when he increased the speed and added another finger it was enough to make you see stars.

"There, there, it feels good when you touch there." In a whimper you say, as soon as you feel his fingers curving around your sweet spots.

All he did was bite his lip, seeing how pleased you were with him. He couldn't wait to fuck you, his mind was stuck on the idea.

He would be the man for you, and you would be his woman. He could easily fulfill the role your husband should be playing.

"Is that good?" He purrs in your ear, licking your earlobe.

You bite your lip and nod, another dirty moan coming from your lips. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the way he stroked your clit as he fucked you with his fingers was enough to make you go wild with him.

"Come for me." He purrs at you, and in one swift movement he finds your breast, wrapping his tongue around your sensitive nipple.

He sucked like crazy, making a point of doing so until he felt your nipple harden in his wet muscle.

Before you knew it, your hips were moving in sync with his movements, in perfect harmony.

God knows how he knew every sensitive spot of yours so well, maybe he'd been waiting for this more than you realized.

"Leon! Fuck-," you moan loudly, rolling your eyes and arching your body, feeling your orgasm wash over you intensely. In a way that has never happened before.

He gave you a lopsided grin and a contented murmur, extremely proud and smug at having made you cum like that.

"What a beautiful princess, you're perfect when you come." He whispered sensuously in your ear, kissing all over your face straight after.

You were speechless, your breathing heavy and fast, your mind even messier than before. At this point you didn't want to think about right or wrong, your mind was in a whirlwind of pleasure.

As soon as he saw you calm down from your high, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you like a princess. He couldn't stand it any longer, his cock hard and throbbing in his pants, he had to take you.

And of course he would do it in your bed, you would be his in your bed. As if you were husband and wife. He already knew the way to your bedroom, and gently laid you down on the bed, letting you sink into the soft mattress.

"My beautiful wife, you're going to welcome me like the perfect wife you are, aren't you?" A low purr in your ear, his fingers reaching down to undo his belt.

You nod, sitting down on the bed and helping him out of his uniform. As he took off his pants, you unbuttoned his shirt, kissing and licking all over his chest.

Low moans and gasps came from his lips, he reached for your hair and began to stroke you, encouraging you to continue. You were so perfect in his eyes, you needed to be his, if only for one night.

In the excitement of the moment, he pulled down his pants along with his boxers, letting his cock pop out, a mischievous smile on his lips, you would be his.

As he had so long hoped.

He holds you by the shoulders and pushes you onto the bed once more, letting you snuggle into the sheets.

As he watched you spread your legs, he mounted you, giving the perfect view of his shapely body. Every muscle twitching as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading you even wider. He had the perfect view, you there all vulnerable for him, slit wet and clamoring for him.

And so he did, he pumped his cock and brushed your entrance, teasing you.

You whimpered, pushing your hips against the head of his cock, wanting him to do what he had to do right away.

A chuckle escapes his lips, and he pushes his cock all the way into you at once, making a quiet slapping sound.

"Fucking tight." He grunts in your ear, starting with calm, slow thrusts, giving you a slow, romantic kiss.

Savoring your taste as he passionately fucked you. Even if it wasn't true, for tonight you would be his woman. His alone, made for him, all his.

"Such a beautiful wife." He murmurs during the kiss, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, his skin colliding against yours.

"My beautiful husband." You say in a whimper, the words sliding out of your mouth as if it were the purest truth.

Perhaps you only spoke in the heat of the moment, or perhaps deep down you wanted it to be true.

He bites his lip, pushing your thighs further into the mattress, moving his hips at an incredibly fast speed, he couldn't hold back any longer, he needed it. Just like you.

"I'm going to come inside you, and you're going to let me, aren't you?" He growls at you, squeezing your thighs tightly.

"Y-yes, yes please." You plead, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you arch your body towards him, your nails digging into the sheets.

"Good, fucking good girl." He whispers, pulling his cock out of you, only to shove it in once more.

You both moan loudly at the sensation, your velvety, tight walls embracing him, pulling him in. His cock throbbing and twitching inside you, he was close, and he couldn't wait to fill you with his big, full load.

He was focused on giving you the most pleasure he could give, just to make sure you didn't forget him, and if he was lucky you could call him one more time.

And he didn't mind being your lover at all, there was no denying that he was very fond of the idea.

At that point, your moans filled the room, surely the neighbors next door could hear what was going on if they listened closely.

Not that you cared much about it, the swearing and sweet talk that escaped his lips, too lost in the moment to think about anything else.

His cock slid in and out of you, making the impure sound of bodies colliding, and Leon was closer to the edge, he wasn't going to hold back any longer.

"Close, Ah-, close," you moaned loudly, writhing and arching your body impatiently. You felt your orgasm building, your body trembling with pleasure beneath him.

He kisses your cheeks softly, whispering to you, "Me too, princess. Let's cum together, yeah? Be good for me, together."

With a loud moan you confirm, he increases the pace and puts the weight of his body on you, moaning and grunting in your ear. The thrusts were strong and deep, he made a point of hitting all your spots and making you see stars every time.

"Fuck - I'm cumming," he growls, his nails digging into your thighs, leaving light marks.

That was the last straw for you to reach your limit, your walls spasming on his cock, his white cream spurting into you. He came so much, so much that he hadn't realized the last time he'd felt this good.

"Good, fucking good." He murmurs, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, still moving slowly inside you.

His hands leave your thighs and find your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours.

"I want you, only you." He whispers against your mouth, kissing all over your face.

You bite your lip and stare at him, tempted to repeat the same sentence he's just said. Maybe it's selfish of you to want him all to yourself, when you couldn't do the same.

You couldn't promise to be his alone, and quite possibly you'd have to be husband and wife in secret. Not that it was a bad idea, even if it meant breaking a few hearts.

It wasn't long before he started kissing your neck, sucking lightly. He wanted to claim you again and again, for tonight you would be his alone. And he would make sure to mark you properly.

His fingers still wrapped around yours, as he whispered sweet nothings to you. You certainly wouldn't get out of that bed tonight, he wouldn't let you.

You would be two lovers in love, parting the next day. And looking forward to the next time. Regardless, the night would be memorable.

It would be a hell of a night.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 2 leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #resident evil #resident evil leon

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mechanicalpiper · 1 month

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Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!

"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"

Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff

Yours truly!

Cooper

You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?

By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3

Snippet #8

The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.

Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.

Hero was certainly having one of those days.

They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.

They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.

Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.

Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."

"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.

"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.

"You wish."

"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."

"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.

"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.

"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"

Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.

A... grab?

Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.

It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.

Villain's touch was soft.

Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.

Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.

They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.

Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.

Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.

"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.

Hero was already ignoring the pain.

Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.

Sweetie??

A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...

...'Sweetheart'...

Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?

"Hm. Losing focus agai-"

Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...

Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.

"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.

"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"

Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.

At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.

An entirely different focus was on their mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling, or the lack of one?

It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.

Hero didn't know nor care.

All they knew is what it felt like right now.

It's a fear.

A fear of this. This emotion.

The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.

The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.

Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.

All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.

Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.

Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.

They did it for Hero.

They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.

They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.

Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.

"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."

Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.

Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.

Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.

Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.

They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.

Villain just continued holding Hero tight.

Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.

But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.

Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.

"...How're you feeling?"

Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.

"...n-needed this."

For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling?

They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.

That feeling was love.

#heroes and villains #writeblr #creative writing #wholesome #writing snippet #writing #cuddles #hurt/comfort #villain x hero #heroxvillain #hero x villain #hero x villain community

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

One Hot Mama

Pairing: Mechanic!Henry Cavill X Single!mom!Reader

summary: Henry becomes a daddy when a special woman enters his life, and his garage... and his home (DILF Henry) (Emotional!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

"F-fuck momma, you got anymore to give me? Can see your precious pussy gripping onto me like a vice" Henry groaned looking down at his fingers plummeting in and out of his secret lover's pussy, a new single mother that had just moved to town with her newborn, immediately falling into the town's mechanic's arms for protection against the judgy looks of others. "y-you're t-too -fuck- big b-bear, can feel you s-so deep" Her hands held onto his arm tightly, her eyes looking up at him desperately.

"Shh honey, don't wanna wake up our little babe do ya? Only got 'im to sleep" He growled biting her ear lightly, his wide palm rubbing onto her clit lightly, her shirt still damp from pumping only an hour beforehand; Henry's hands already pulling at her hardened nipples to try and coax some of the milk out for himself. "O-oh i'm c-cumming" She squealed, moaning into the wild man's arms as his lips pushed onto hers, swallowing each of her moans and whines as his fingers rubbed her button raw, her slick wetness covering his hands and part of her bed sheets.

"good job momma, did so well for me, take what you need, take care of our little angel so fuckin' well" He growled watching her body writhe against his chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as she tilted her head up for another kiss, his tongue licking all over her mouth before diving in deep and tasting her tongue. Letting her grind against his hand, their lips separating as her whines turned to soft breaths of relief and pleasure, his hands still toying with her tits as he massaged her body. His favourite part? The extra skin gathered at her stomach, showing off just how amazing she was for going through a pregnancy, never mind a pregnancy alone.

"By the way uh- Thanks for lookin' after Tommy tonight, I-I didn't know i'd get called for work so late' She whispered letting him trace each of her stretch marks, kisses placed all over she shoulder, eventually reaching her lips once again. There they stayed on her bed, kissing and just touching each other for another ten minutes, her body humping against his lightly, whimpering at the fact that she still didn't feel comfortable enough to have sex again. "I already told ya, he already calls me daddy, only thing ya needa do is let me into your heart pumpkin"

"Y-you're already in my heart Hen, you've got it in your hands" She whispered tracing her lips with her finger, his lips kissing the palm of her hand before nuzzling into her touch like a dog. Ever since she had moved to Pomsdale 6 months ago with her six month old, the first person who had notice of her and little Tommy, was Henry Cavill the town's leading mechanic. Pomsdale was a tiny town of a population of at least 2500, so almost instantly the married woman of the town had judged her for having a baby out of wedlock.

At first it started off as a favour, Henry babysitting baby Tommy while Y/n worked her ass off. Then it turned into Henry and Y/n fooling, her body falling for his within the first week, it only took a simple look and there they were dry humping on the newest car he was fixing up; so far there had been no labels on their relationship. That was until Henry had been over at her house daily, eating dinner, helping to feed Tommy and overall just relieving her feeling of being a single parent. Last month Tommy had just about said his first word 'dada' while reaching out for Henry who was building his computer in the living room, babysitting him while Y/n was out getting groceries.

"Then why won't ya let me put a pretty lil' rock on this finger momma? make us into one of 'ose happy families, have ya as my wife, our house filled with tiny tots wreckin' the place" He whispered kissing the space on her ring finger delicately, his boxer clad body shifting over just to be closer to his woman, he didn't care whether they had his last name or not, he just wanted his son and wife with him. "H-Henry us foolin' around has been fun don't get me wrong but-"

"Foolin' around? was that all this was to you? I- I thought you just said I had your heart n' you had mine, the hell are you talkin' about then" he said sitting up in her bed, watching her panic a bit and reach for his larger hands, "N-No of course not! But you need to understand this isn't just about me, it's about Tommy too, y-you can't just up and leave whenever ya get bored of me" Her thumb rubbed over his knuckles comfortingly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at him, only to be interrupted by the sound of her baby boy crying

"I-i'll go get him, you stay here, please" He whispered gently letting go of her hands, grabbing his sweater from the chair and shrugging it on, giving her a tight lipped smile before heading down to the one year old's nursery. His breath deepening and shuddering with each step, it's okay he would give her some time to think and then they'd talk; that's how they always worked things out during their fast paced relationship.

"hey, hey little man, what's got ya all worked up? Thought your momma's milk woulda had you knocked out cold for sure" He cooed fixing his sleep snuggy, the blue fabric looked like he was wearing a tiny dress, causing Henry's heart to grow a little bit bigger (if that was even possible) Tommy's tiny hands fisted the cotton sweater almost as if it was trying to rip off the fabric, Henry's deep voice chuckling at his boy's tiny coos and whimpers, setting him back into his bassinet before taking off his sweater.

Little Tommy now calming down against his dada's chest, his smaller fingers twisting in Henry's chest hair, Henry's lips pressing kisses onto his head and inhaling the soft baby scent. "Ya like me don't ya, one day you n' your momma are gonna be mine, officially but ya know you already are. Gonna teach ya how to play ball, ride a bike and maybe even give ya some tips for kindergarten. I know your ma is jus' worried about you, but I promise ya, if anythin' were to happen to you or your momma i'd never forgive myself" After his own monologue Henry padded softly around the room, sitting down onto the rockin' chair in the corner, letting Tommy slowly drift off on his chest.

------

Henry's eyes twinkled open, his back aching, the panic setting in when he realised his chest didn't have Tommy's weight on it anymore. Calming down when he saw the love of his life kissing the tip of his son's nose, setting their baby boy to bed, her body covered in a white silk robe. "C-come to bed Hen baby, please honey" She whimpered, her eyes still glossy, complying as Henry tugged her onto his lap. "m'comfy right 'ere, stay with me" He gruffed feeling her head lay on his chest, his hand coming up to scratch her head soothingly, her hands clutching onto his other one tightly.

"I- I do want you Henry, in my bed, in my house, with OUR son and with me. I just want you to understand t-that I am worried but I do love you and I- I do want a pretty rock on m-my finger"

"That's good, cause it's already in my pocket honey. Would you take m-my name or-"

"I want your name Henry, I want everything to do with you, the name, the house, the babies and of course, I know Tommy would like to be yours too; but I need time too"

"He was mine the day I met him love, saw the twinkle in his eye n' knew he was my little boy n' you was meant to be my woman" He whispered nudging her head up with his, her lips eagerly puckered and inching towards his; their lips meeting in tons of tiny pecks until their lips grew tired and swollen. "Ey stop it woman, our son's 'ere" He chuckled kissing her cheek sweetly, letting her nuzzle into his neck, her legs straddling his burly thighs.

(psa; lowkey think this is one of my worst stories so sorry :(( )

---

Library of works blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, pls use library blog instead)

@pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @beck07990 @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @keiva1000 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @theekyliepage @cilliansangel @kzhlvlysstuff @p4st3lst4rs @thoughtsofreid @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x single!mom!reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill one shot #mechanic!henry cavill #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x y/n #rpf #henry cavill fanfic

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hollyhomburg · 6 months

Text

I haven’t had an idea about hybrids in a long long time but 🥺 what about pup hybrid koo who gets abandoned by his owners for being too high energy, who waits by the door every day for them to come back, doesn’t like to talk to other humans because they’re not his owner but then slowly, the volunteer who comes into his room to talk to him every day and eat his meals with him and feed him treats starts to chip away at his heart and adopts him.

only to have him wake up Literally lying on top of them, deal with him breaking out of the house and following them to work, everywhere- jk is just so worried about being left behind again but! It’s a good thing his owner is really understanding and doesn’t mind that he’s a clingy little puppy.

And of course Doberman! jk is also still covered with tattoos just like irl jk 🥺 big floppy ears hanging over his face, the breed and tattoos usually turn people off from adopting him because Dobermans you know- they’re /protection/ dogs, they don’t see jks wide terrified eyes hidden behind his big ears. They just see the tattoos and piercings and walk the other way. Im imagining the first time jk ever falls asleep on the m/c, head on her lap, her fingers rubbing against the spot on the back of them where they’re sensitive and tingly saying to herself “at least he didn’t doc your ears, I would have expected- given the other /modifications/ he made to you, that he’d have done that. At least he had the decency to leave them alone”

And she asks cuz of course she does, why jks old owner covered him with tattoo’s and maybe she should have waited until he was more awake but jk just says “liked to come with hyung to work, saved his best designs for me”

Maybe years later they have a run in with Jks old owner and it’s one of the other boys, tattoo artist yoongi maybe? but 🥺 jk finally gets his closure because he finds out yoongi didn’t abandon him he just got into an accident and was in a coma for 6 months and then had 18 months of re-learning how to walk after that. How to do art, how to tattoo again and yoongis finally back on his feet. Even when he was in a wheelchair yoongi never stopped going to different shelters to try and find Jk. Yoongi never gave up looking for his pup 🥺

Imagine tattoo artist yoongi with arms full of pretty floral tattoos in the same style as the ones on jk’s arm 🥺 and the m/c once again questions him about it and jk gives her the honest answer of “I asked for them”

Maybe jk is now faced with the horrible choice of being the one who leaves his new owner who he loves a lot and going back to the person who he once missed more than anything! Of course his little pup brain just comes up with the simple solution! They both just have to move in together to look after him! That way he gets both!! And only- the m/c and yoongi are really opposites- but they decide to try and make being roommates work if only because jk deserves it.

And maybe yoongi starts taking care of her too because he always did let jungkook depend on him lots 🥺 for cooking and brushing out his long fluffy hair and showers after boxing class. And yoongi fusses because around her work schedule she forgets to eat a bunch and he ends up going to drop off lunches because honestly- the tatto shop kinda runs it’s self since namjoon and taehyung took over during yoongis accident- they never met jk because they only bought into the business after yoongis accident when he had to sell off half of it to cover his medical bills (I’m picturing calico mini- a new addition, who took over jks job of checking people in for their appointments and answering the phone)

But anyway back to yoongi and his babying It’s natural for him to say “up!” To her (a total accident he swears) when she’s wearing a soaked shirt after coming in from the rain, blushing hard, but kinda grinning when she follows obediently. Because jk always liked it when yoongi would dress him 🥺 hyungs perfect little puppy doll all pliant and good. And it would be okay if only she didn’t slip up too! Accidentally calling yoongi a good boy on more than one occasion or going in for a “good pup kiss” cuz jk is like- kinda a kissy puppy, likes good morning kisses and thank you for putting your dishes away and “I missed you cuz you just peed kisses and I was worried a monster was gonna eat you in the bathroom” kisses. Jk has them both very well trained.

Of course he’d tease her endlessly for that. “Maybe we should get you a pair of puppy ears for Halloween if you’re gonna listen to me the way that jk does” “yeah? I’ll get you a pair of kitty ears and tatto whiskers on you in your sleep” only what if one day yoongi reveals he actually does have whisker tattoos they’re just black light 😭

Only why don’t they kiss each other the way they give him good boy kisses 🥺 why don’t they cuddle each other like they cuddle him??? Why don’t they good hands the way they hold hands with him when he goes out so that they don’t get lost! Jk has to remedy this right away 😠 he can’t loose either of them ever again so he’s gotta set them up!!!

#bts fluff #bts #bts hybrid au #hybrid jungkook

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lovingjingyuan · 3 months

Text

You're speaking out of line again

Sunday is so handsome! He really is the most handsome man in Penacony. He even looks good when mad! My(our) pretty boy <3 Also mentions a side question In Pencony with Chadwick!

Warning: ooc? Toxic Sunday, toxic work environment

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

"Just a moment," his soft gentle smile as he walks up to you and your patron. "Please I like to speak with you alone."

His eyes lay on you. Everything about him was angelic. The patron felt mesmerized by Sunday's angelic features. Sunday turns to your customer giving his professional demeanor.

"Apologies my dear guest, I'll have someone assist you in just a bit. I need to talk to my employee," Sundays brought his eyes towards you before grabbing your hand and leading you away.

Once out of the door, his grip became harsh and rough. He started to drag you to his office before closing the door then pushed you sitting on the couch as he approached you, towering over you like a fragile child.

"My dear... you of all people should know very well you're not supposed to interact with our guests like this."

You looked at him confused. You thought you did everything correctly. You were just assisting the guest, you followed all the manual and everything yet he still lectures you and only you. "But-"

His eyes hardened and he glared at you. You can see the jealousy tinted on his face arose.

"Do not interrupt me. I didn't ask for an explanation yet." He was always so much harsher on you.

He always expects the best from you. Behind the doors of his public image, he was stern, and cold a new person from the gentleness he puts out in public. Yet even with the angry expression his face was still of an angel.

"Why do you still take male guests? What? You're not satisfied so you need to start hauling over our guests?"

You were speechless at these accusations implying the kind of worker you weren't yet he kept dumping these infidelity statements at you.

"Speak," his voice averted to a more harsher and stern tone eyeing you while he crossed his arms.

Your words stumbled messy as you tried to explain without blowing up at him, yet you couldn't stop yourself from saying things that shouldn't have been said and were way out of topic.

Sunday's face darkens as he glares at you, "You're speaking out of line again." His voice was harsh and cold. Yet a bit of amusement in his eyes. "I'll cut out your pay for this month and you'll be held in a confined area of the dreamscape while we sort things out. Hope you can understand."

Your jaw dropped almost to the ground. Members of the Bloodhound Family dragged you away to a restricted area in the dreamscape.

Damn Sunday. You cursed as you sat on the desk. It was an empty room. A familiar room, all too familiar room. The same room they kept Chadwick's memory; isolating his memories from the world. The same room was kept from the public to punish people and take away their sense of rights.

And Sunday held you in there for a simple small argument. You did everything to try and satisfy him yet it was never enough. His expectations were harsh on you compared to others. He kept a perfect public impression. The angelic smile and features how can anyone not fall for it?

A knock came at the door, "May I please come in?" before you could answer Sunday walked in closing the door behind him with his infamous smile.

He walked over to you and softly slid his hand to the necklace he brought you sitting on your neck. The small angel wing diamond necklace. The wings looked similar to the wings on his head. His hand fidgets the necklace chains.

"Is everything going perfectly fine my dear?"

You nodded, but he frowned slightly bit, "I want to hear it from you. Do your job with your mouth not with movements" his voice became more demanding.

"Yes everything is going perfectly," you said sarcastically. His ears tense up a bit, "Why are you even here?"

He stopped in place letting go of your necklace, his smile fading in a stern expression you know so well.

"You're speaking out of line again..." His voice was cold, but you heard him say these words many, many times before and you know exactly what he meant: How dare you speak to me that way.

"Sunday I didn't mean to-"

He cuts you off "I'll have to lengthen your confinement if you keep speaking out of line."

Silence... The silence between you two when you looked away. After a long 30 seconds, Sunday's moods soften as well as the wings. He kissed you on your head. "This is the best choice for you to learn. All I want is to keep you safe..."

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

Anyway, I got CPR certified today! I thought I was gonna fail the test but I didn't! Also for my political/government test, I failed it... whomp whomp😭 I'm so far behind on work sooo yeah and my next political test is coming soon.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #hsr sunday #yandere sunday

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onlyhereforthestories · 3 months

Text

Bumpy History - Part 3 (Aitana x Reader)

And here you have it. Little bit of a shorter part but I builds up nicely to the final part which will be out later this week!

The next morning, you and Aitana arrived at the training ground early. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm, golden hue over the field. The rest of your teammates were slowly trickling in, chatting and stretching as they prepared for the day's training session. You and Aitana had been messaging a little the previous evening about what you were going to do today so you couldn’t help but exchange a mischievous glance with the midfielder as Jona explained the drill. The smirk you received in return let you know Aitana was thinking the same thing, it was time to surprise your teammates.

They drill started off as simple back and forth ground passes in a small area to move around, the two of you knocked the ball back and forth to each other effortlessly catching the eye of some of your teammates already. As you moved around the crowded area, your movements were synchronised and you always knew where each other would be, like you could read each other’s minds. You chanced a glance up at some of your teammates around you and caught Pina with her mouth wide open staring at the two of you as her ball zipped past her foot.

Jona called time on the drill, but you and your new passing partner had other ideas, instead of following the rest of the girls for a drinks break, you two decided to start pinging the ball back and forth in the air. "Nice one, partner!" you exclaimed, sending the ball back to her with a dink in the air. Aitana deftly controlled the ball with her chest and volleyed it back to you. "You're not too bad yourself," she replied with a wink.

All your teammates were baffled by the change, it was strange to see you two even work together let alone getting alone so well. They had never seen Aitana interact like this with anyone, let alone with someone she had seemingly avoided for so long. The fact that you were both laughing and joking during training left them in a state of pure shock.

As training continued, you and Aitana kept up the playful banter. You pulled off a fancy flick pass, and Aitana pretended to be utterly impressed, clapping her hands dramatically as she ran passed you onto the end of the ball you just flicked. Your teammates were now openly staring at you both.

At the end of the training session, Jona approached the two of you as you grabbed a drink and giggled about the shock you had caused. "You two seem to be having fun out there," he remarked with a raised eyebrow.

Aitana and you exchanged knowing glances before breaking into grins. "Just trying to keep things interesting, coach," you replied.

Jona chuckled and nodded. "Well, keep it up. It's good to see you both working well together. It makes my life easier when two of my best players are on the same wavelength." You both exchanged as little glance before grinning at the man who patted you both on the shoulder as he walked away.

As you packed up your stuff in the changing room, you couldn't help but giggle at the still shocked expressions on your teammates' faces. You and Aitana weren’t even trying to shock them anymore, neither of you speaking as you put your boots away, but they were all still watching you and mumbling to one another. You took no notice and said your goodbyes as you went to walk out the room, Aitana hot on your heals.

With every passing day, it felt like you and Aitana were breaking down the barriers between you, building not just a partnership on the field but a genuine friendship off of it. And the shocked reactions from your teammates? Well, that was just a bonus.

The game you had just finished had been a tense one, it took your team a while to find their feet but you had managed to get the job done thanks to a beautiful goal from Aitana. As you headed back in through the tunnel and into the locker room, it was quickly filled with a mix of jubilation and exhaustion as your teammates celebrated the hard-fought win. You quickly showered and changed into more comfortable clothes, knowing that you needed to head home soon.

As you exited the locker room, kit bag slung over your shoulder, you were surprised to see Aitana waiting in the hallway. She looked slightly nervous, fidgeting with her phone and glancing your way every so often. You approached her with a smile. "Hey, Aitana. Great game today, thank god for you. We needed that wondergoal today their defence was just so frustrating to try and break down."

Aitana's eyes lit up as she saw you approaching, something you weren’t sure you were actually seeing or imagining. "Yeah, it was a team effort though couldn’t have scored without the amazing ball through. You played really well too, Y/n."

You blushed, the compliment catching you off guard. "Thank you. But as you said, it was a team effort."

Aitana cleared her throat, her nervousness returning. "Listen, I was wondering if, I mean would you like to grab a coffee or something? Only, if you're not too busy that is." She stuttered her way though the question which you couldn’t tell her but you found incredibly endearing.

You were a little taken aback though by the invitation. It was the first time Aitana had made such an effort to spend time with you outside of football. "Coffee sounds great," you replied with a warm smile. "I'm not busy at all."

Aitana visibly relaxed, relieved that you had accepted her offer. "Awesome! There's a café not far from here. We can walk there if you're up for it." You agreed, and together you made your way to the café. The walk was filled with easy conversation, a far cry from the tension that had once defined your interactions.

The café had a cosy atmosphere, and you both settled into a corner booth with your coffee orders. As you sipped your drinks and chatted, you noticed that Aitana seemed more open and relaxed than you'd ever seen her before. It was a pleasant surprise, and you realized that perhaps the walls that once stopped any positive interaction between you two were finally coming down. The conversation flowed and neither of you spoke more than the other, there was equal back and forth and everything was easy to speak about. You had just calmed down from the giggle fit Aitana had sent you in after she told you about her mishap in the kitchen a couple days prior, when she excused herself to use the bathroom.

This gave you a few minutes to think about what was happening and to you it felt like the start of something new and exciting, a real genuine connection and possible friendship with the Spanish midfielder was blooming in your eyes and it had been a long time coming really.

After your coffee date, you both left the café with smiles on your faces. Aitana walked you back to your car, and as you said your goodbyes, she hesitated for a moment. "Y/n, I had a really great time today," she said, looking into your eyes with a warm sincerity. "I hope we can do this again sometime."

You nodded, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. "I'd love that, Aitana. Let's make it a regular thing." With a grin and a brief hug goodbye, you both went your separate ways, looking forward to more coffee dates and exploring the growing connection between the two of you.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader

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kangaracha · 4 months

Text

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 9

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n i send in a job application, you get a new chapter. the world continues to go round. (i also got two skz albums for writing my application, and a bonus chan card for walking up to the counter with $150 worth of skz merch in my arms (she was like damn i wonder what group this girl likes the most what a mystery))

previous | masterlist | next

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At some point in the last two months, you'd become more used to the presence of eight boys than you'd realised.

The thought only makes the quiet air of the studio all the more oppressive as you sit on the floor, legs stretched out before you as you wait for the livestream to load. You'd spent plenty of time in here alone since joining their group, but not as much as you have in the past week, with the boys gone from the moment they woke up to the late hours of the night on schedules and promotions. It was strange to be here for twelve hours or more and not hear a single voice coming through the door, to wander up to the cafeteria for lunch and not see them, or Minseo, or even the other trainees you'd worked with for so many years, your personal rhythms no longer lining up with the regimen of classes and mealtimes and monthly evaluations, which you know are drawing close without even having to check.

Even your home is lonely, the empty rooms echoing with no voice to respond to you. You haven't had your own room since you left Australia all of six years ago. You've never had your own apartment. You're not sure you know what to do with it anymore.

The livestream erupts in a burst of noise and colourful pixels, clarifying slowly into a picture of a stage. You've missed most of the opening performances, not watching the time as you practised. You've seen them all three times this week already; you'll probably see them all again next week as well. And if you said that watching the rookie groups in the earlier stages of the show didn't make you a little bit jealous, you'd be lying, especially this of all weeks.

(If you said that watching the boys perform God's Menu didn't make you a little bit jealous, you'd be lying too, but you won't allow that thought to cross your mind.)

As if summoned by the thought of them, they flash up on the screen, one at a time, and then as a group as the stage begins; senior idols, playing top billing on a weekly show watched by millions, a position you have no business being in. And yet here you are, sitting in their studio and watching their shows and thinking that it should have been you and you've been cheated again.

A shiver that has nothing to do with the music or the sweat that clings to your skin runs down your spine. Were you just being conceited about this whole debut thing; signing this contract to join a senior group, watching other debut groups like you had the right to be out there with them, occupying this private dance studio as if it is your own space, as if you'd earned the right fair and square to leave the darker, shared spaces of the fourth floor rooms, where all the other trainees ground away at their skills with only hope in their future.

Weren't three missed debuts just three signs that you'd ignored that maybe this wasn't the life promised to you?

Your phone vibrates, a text notification from Minseo covering Felix's face. Your thumb hovers over it, the desire to ask where she is and what she's doing tugging at your breastbone. You let it slide away though; she's been at different schedules all day too, if she is even home yet, and night is drawing on quickly. You're exhausted anyway; you'd probably fall asleep in the first five minutes of a movie, or even midway through a bowl of icecream.

You need to keep practising anyway. That was the key to this debut you'd stolen off of fate; every minute of every day spent in this studio, until you made it or they dropped you. You already know how it feels to look back and see an hour or a day that could have been spent getting better, and you'd hated it; this time, even if you never debuted, no one would say that you didn't try. No one would call you lazy.

(But the wrong look was what they had said, not lazy. Just not pretty enough, just the wrong face in the wrong lineup in front of the wrong man. It was one thing to fail out of merit; it was another to fail because of the way you were born.)

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

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rubyreduji · 11 months

Text

(🎤) — most popular , (🎸) — personal favorite

other masterlists

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

★ professor!seungcheol 🎤

➥ series, smut ➥ a smut series featuring biology professor choi seungcheol and his favorite failing student, you

★ the art of learning how to knock

➥ 4.4k, smut, male reader ➥ seungcheol really should learn how to knock

★ sweetest thing

➥ 1.7k, smut ➥ your boyfriend just wants to help you celebrate your job promotion in the best way he can think of

★ us and the stars

➥ 2.3k, smut, fluff ➥ sitting under the stars on the hood of seungcheol’s car puts a lot of things into perspective

YOON JEONGHAN

★ good to me

➥ 2.1k, smut, sub!jeonghan ➥ sometimes jeonghan just needs you to take care of him

★ fighting for your love

➥ 5.5k, smut, ft. jeonghan ➥ when you couldn’t pick who to date between joshua and jeonghan, you weren’t expecting to result in a fight, literally

★ the christmas boyfriend

➥ 12.7k, fluff, smut ➥ when you tell your mom the little white lie that you have a boyfriend, you don’t expect it to evolve into bringing your friend with benefits home for christmas. what can go wrong?

aftercare king jeonghan x svt play thing reader (smut) 🎤

JOSHUA HONG

★ baby please come home

➥ 2.9k, fluff ➥ they’re singing deck the halls, but it’s not like christmas at all

★ fighting for your love

➥ 5.5k, smut, ft. jeonghan ➥ when you couldn’t pick who to date between joshua and jeonghan, you weren’t expecting to result in a fight, literally

★ hello kitty, you're so pretty

1.7k, smut, cat hybrid!reader ➥ joshua bring home something new for you two to try together

best friend josh x reader (smut)

pool boy josh x milf reader (smut)

WEN JUNHUI

★ charcoal stained hands

➥ 3.1k, fluff ➥ jun falls in love on a tuesday afternoon in an art studio

★ anatomy lesson

➥ 1.5k, smut ➥ you help jun learn female anatomy

valentine’s day present (smut)

KWON SOONYOUNG

★ in front of chan and everybody 🎤

➥ 2.4k, smut ➥ when you and you boyfriend started having sex, you didn’t expect him to be so shameless about it. it doesn’t seem like his roommates are too shameful either.

★ my best friend's mother (is the one for me)

➥ 4.2k, smut, milf!reader ➥ jihoon’s mom has got it going on

★ pretty girl

➥ 2.6k, smut, cubby!reader ➥ soonyoung just likes to appreciate how beautiful his girlfriend

★ boyfriends

➥ 5.6k, fluff, ft. jihoon ➥ you ask your producer out. too bad he already has a boyfriend, or is it?

★ feels so good 🎸

➥ 3.6k, smut, trans male reader ➥ you and soonyoung wake up, and have sex. that simple really.

★ birthday presents for a tiger 🎸

➥ 3.1k, smut ➥ it’s your neighbor’s birthday, you decide to give him a gift

soonyoung somnophilia drabble (smut)

rainy day thoughts (fluff)

fanboy hoshi (fluff) 🎸

giving soonyoung head (smut)

JEON WONWOO

★ the story of us

➥ 3.6k, angst w/ a happy ending ➥ now i’m standing alone in a crowded room and we’re not speaking…

★ good to be bad

➥ 10.2k, fluff, descendsnts!au, ft. mingyu ➥ moving to auradon brings many new things, good and bad

★ work husband

➥ 1.7k, fluff, ft. mingyu ➥ your two coworkers get a bit too involved in becoming your “work husband”

★ the peephole 🎤

➥ 5.0k, smut ➥ wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

perv wonwoo x roommate reader (smut) 🎤

perv wonwoo x roommate reader pt 2 (smut)

perv wonwoo x roommate reader pt 3 (smut)

getting a tattoo of another member's initials (reaction, suggestive)

#rubyreduji #masterlist #seventeen #seventeen fanfic

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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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hoshigray · 1 year

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A Pricked Hand to Hold

Just thinking about h*lding h*nds with Miguel for the first time bc I'm still fucking soft for this man (like it's so bad).

An: Yup, it's been three weeks, and my infatuation for this man has yet to falter (or that movie in general bc I've seen it like 5-6 times already, and can't get tired of it). This was meant to be a little smthn, but I just wanted to get my soft aggression out of the way. Also, tysm for 1k followers again!! Like fr, y'all are too sweet :') Sacrificed sleep to get this done, sooooo hope you guys like it!! If there are spelling/grammar errors, my dumbass will take care of it tmrw bc I need to take a fckin nap right tf now ahhhhhh— Also! Gonna make an ATSV masterlist later today, so I'll be sure to link it when it's done!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - h*nd h*lding (barf) - the reader is implied to be in college (at least age 20) - you and Miguel aren't together [yet] but the pining is strong in this one! - Lyla and Jessica teasing you lovestruck idiots lol - you accidentally prick yourself with your lead pencil, but no blood or injuries - ayo you and Miguel almost kiss tho??

Wc: 2.1k

As usual, it was a busy day at headquarters. Many anomalies have been captured for Margo to send back home, Spiders helping other Spiders fight off evil-doers and placing them back in their universes, and Pavitr having a scare nearly revealing his identity to his girlfriend, Gayatri.

Then there's you, sitting at a table doing your homework that needs to be finished for the lecture tomorrow. But you're not alone. In front of the table are three others discussing matters of their own. Lyla is giving new information about another anomaly that needs to be captured before going home, and Jessica's leaning on her motorbike listening to her pixel friend. Right next to her is another taller person listening along as well.

Miguel O'Hara — leader of the Spider Society and the man you've been pining for a while now.

You've been working here for a few months, taking in Margo's shifts or helping Lyla relay messages to other Spiders across the multiverse. At first, you've tried to keep it simple and only see it as a job. But the more you work here, the closer you get to others...and your boss, Miguel, is no exception.

Things started short and blunt with him between you two — just simple greetings and exchanges of the necessary information. But then there was a time when the man was in HQ for far too long, probably sacrificing too much sleep and time to eat that day. So, you got him something from the cafeteria and a little note telling him to "Take care of yourself, leader!" before going home.

From that day on, you and Miguel got closer slowly but surely. Not only does he appreciate you reminding him to take breaks or grab something to eat, but he also checks up on you whenever it's your shift, talks to you on his breaks, or eats dinner with you whenever he has a chance (or when he's not stressed out).

And how you talk to each other is much more comfortable and personal. Sure, you're still respectful of his position and are aware of his duties, but it's always a guilty pleasure when he spends his little free time with you. Unfortunately, you've developed feelings for the tall and brawny Spiderman due to this.

You know how complicated it is to have feelings for someone, especially within the work field, so this is something that you have no faith in whatsoever. But for some reason, you can't help but think something between the two of you is starting to bloom...and based on his actions, maybe Miguel feels the same way as well? Lyla and Jessica tease you, saying it's plain to see that even Pav fangirls about you two.

".../n."

However, for a man like him, is such a thing possible?

"Y/n."

Your thoughts vanish as you turn to the person calling for your attention, just to find it's from Miguel. The two women are nowhere to be found, probably tending to other matters you didn't catch because of your overthinking.

"Yes!" you stutter a reply. Oh God, I hope I didn't make him call on me so many times...

"Done with your homework?" He asks while coming to your side of the table.

You give him a nod, fidgeting with your mechanical pencil. "Yeah, I took care of the stuff for my classes tomorrow. Now I just got a paper to finish by Friday...What about you? Gonna head out soon?"

"I would, but I gotta stay here in case Jess needs backup for the mission. She just left to fix up her bike before she goes."

A chuckle sneaks past you, and Miguel swoons at the sound of it. "Are you sure you wanna do that? Didn't Lyla keep bothering you the last time?"

You can tell he reminisces the time you recall; his sigh and a shake from the lead confirm so. "Yeah, well, when is she not bothering me."

"Heard that." The woman appears in front of him quickly before disappearing again, leaving Miguel a little puzzled before a slight scowl paints his face. Yet it's not so bad when he sees you laugh at the interaction.

"I swear," your giggles wear down, but your smile remains. "It's like you two are siblings or something. But that just means the pestering comes from a place of love."

He hums at your words. "Yeah, love..."

For the past few months, you've been a reoccurring theme in Miguel's life that he thought he'd never experience again. From the day he met you, he figured keeping his distance and maintaining an appropriate work relationship would benefit him. But he was a fool to challenge your beauty and welcoming aura whenever you entered the scene. Especially your kind gestures, starting with the food and your little note for him.

It was apparent then that avoidance would do more harm to himself than good, so he spent his days getting to know you more, understanding you more, appreciating you more...and worse, loving you more.

An emotion such as love has been something that's only brought up painful memories and anguish. And for that reason, Miguel has chosen to dedicate his life and being to doing something he's good at — his job protecting the multiverse. Because, in his eyes, it's the only thing he seems capable of. Not love.

...However, whenever you look at him, speak to him, or smile at him, Miguel can't fight the twinge of his heart longing for something — longing for you. And he knows he isn't the only one who thinks so since Lyla constantly ridicules him about his "schoolboy crush," just like a sibling.

Nonetheless, he still doesn't go far from the talks you share with him or the times you eat together in a friendly manner. Because that's what he and you are comfortable with, and he wouldn't want to break it. Yet he can't help but wonder what would happen if he was just a little more selfish.

Be more selfish and pursue you...without losing you.

"OUCH!!"

Without hurting you.

Miguel's thoughts are immediately halted when he hears your hurtful cry. You drop your pencil and grab your finger as you wince through the pain. And he wastes no time coming to your proximity to examine what happened. "What!? Something wrong?"

"Ahhhh, yeah, I'm fine," You reassure him with an attempted smile. "I just accidentally pricked myself with my pencil."

"Let me see."

The words take a long to register before the man takes your hand in his, the back of your hand resting on his palm while he surveys your fingers. He then sees a tiny circle indent on your middle finger. "I don't see any pieces of lead."

"Oh, thank goodness," you exhale in relief. "Because I don't think I'd survive tomorrow if I did. I got three lectures that day!"

Miguel chortles at your comment, and it has the beat of your heart quicken. "So sorry for you."

Your smile is still prominent. "Thank you, Miguel."

"Don't mention it."

Silence follows those words, yet they're substituted with gazes between you and the man. The twinge on your lips slowly dissolves the more you lose yourself in his burnt amber eyes. The same goes for Miguel, who still has your hand in his.

The internal turmoil in his mind doesn't ease at that fact, incapable of deciphering whether to let go. And when your hand slowly reciprocates the hold — turning it for both palms to face each other — his breath hitches.

"Miguel..." his name appeared in a whisper, only for him to hear. Your breathing goes shaky when he replies with his fingers intertwined with yours. And you notice him take a tense gulp, easing your nerves to know that he's also nervous.

He knows he shouldn't be this close to you as it could jeopardize the relationship you have spent all these months building and maintaining together. However, this is the first time he's been so close to you, touching you. And his heart pushes him to want more.

He knows he shouldn't...but curiosity is an intriguing dance. That's why he slowly leans forward to you.

And you go rigid by the notion...yet your eyes are drawn to his lips, and you follow suit by going inward. Eyes close, letting the moment take place for itself.

"Ready, Miguel?"

Nevermind.

Both eyes open immediately, and locked hands are withdrawn from each other. Miguel puts on his mask quickly, but you could still see a slight flush of pink on his cheeks and ears before they were covered up. You straighten yourself and look to the other side of the table to see Jessica on her motorbike entering the scene.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

"Oh—" the woman spots you two before Miguel stands straight up, and she doesn't try to hide the smile that creeps on her face. "Oh. Was I interrupting something?"

"No." You two say in unison. Jess only lifts a brow through her yellow goggles. You continue with an explanation while you pack up your stuff. "I accidentally pricked my finger with my mechanical pencil, so Miguel checked it out to see if I had any lead on it."

"Ooh, yeah, those aren't fun. Basically like a splinter." Before Jessica could say more, Lyla appeared in everyone's line of sight.

"Good, you two are still here." She jumps around between Jessica and Miguel. "The anomaly we discussed earlier has jumped to another dimension as predicted; better get them now so we can go home."

The two nod while you get up from the table with your backpack. "Good luck out there, guys." You address the older three before exiting for the night, and they all say their goodbyes to you.

For a few seconds, your eyes linger on Miguel. Despite the mask covering his face, his gaze was intense and palpable. Without saying a word, you let your eyes say your final words before turning to leave.

Miguel still watches you leave until he's unable to spot you through the dark hall. And unfortunately for him, he can feel two pairs of eyes on him. He mentally prepares himself before looking at the two women who harbor shameless grins. "What's with the faces?"

Lyla and Jessica only share a look amongst themselves and shrug before answering him. "Oh, I don't know, Miguel." The pixelated woman darts close to the man. "What's with your face?"

"Wh-What are you—"

"C'mon now, Miguel." Jessica cuts him off. "Seems like something more was going on than just a pricked finger."

He sighs. "Well, you're wrong. Because that's all it was." The two share another look with each other as their smirks go higher.

"Oh~, my darling Miguel," Jessica changes her voice to a higher pitch and daydream tone. "I wish you luck on your mission and that you return to see me tomorrow~."

"Don't you worry, my wonderful Y/n," Despite Miguel's eyes narrowing at Lyla's terrible impression of his voice, she still acted out the role. "I will return to you unscathed and have you in my loving arms in no time~."

"I don't talk like that." The two women chuckle at his blunt statement. "How old do you think I am?"

"Old enough to look like a man but still scared to talk to your lil' crush." Jessica crosses her arms with a matter-of-fact attitude, her smile itching broader when Miguel rolls his eyes through the mask.

"Ay, por Dios, can we please open the portal already?" The poor man can only take so much teasing from the two, making him feel like he should've left with you instead.

Lyla giggles one last time before Jessica uses her watch to open a portal to the desired dimension. "Whatever you say, lover boy." The portal opens, and a flash of colors and shapes contrasts with the dull room. Jessica is the first to go, Miguel following right behind her.

Even when going on his mission, his mind can't stop thinking about you and the moment you shared together earlier. It was a risky thing to have happened, and he scolds himself for letting such a thing happen. Miguel knows he isn't a person for love, for it's something meant to be destroyed by his very touch. You are no exception; the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He loves you too much to put you through that.

But then the compliance and willingness you've expressed in holding his hand surely meant that you wanted something more, right?

If Miguel were selfish enough, he'd use that as a hint. A hint to look forward to what other things you'd allow him to express to you.

If he were selfish enough, he would plan to approach you tomorrow in the right way.

If he were selfish enough, he'd test out the waters more and finally let this "love" flourish into something better.

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