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solelifauna · 4 months ago

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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?”

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on.

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless.

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile.

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

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miyadollie · 10 days ago

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R/CRUSHES : HOW DO I TALK TO MY OFFICE CRUSH ? sillyguy0813 says : dude just borrow a stapler

★ STARRING office worker lee jeno x fem reader ( ft. best friend jaemin ) ★ WORD COUNT 2.6k + 3OO bonus ★ CONTAINS co-workers to dating, fluff !! lee jeno being a cutie, jaemin is a menace to society, workplace romance, ★ MIYA SAYS 💗 this is my first time TRYING to write a long fic :3 pls give me any constructive criticism and feedback thank uu 🧘🏼‍♀️ . update : wow i absolutely dislike my writing here but its been rotting in drafts too long and i gave up on fixing this TT

it starts with a stapler.

one you’re not even sure belongs to you. maybe you bought it once during a sale, or someone left it at your desk during a particularly chaotic week, and it stayed. quietly claimed as yours.

the moment wasn't love at first sight, no grand declaration of love with bouquets or fireworks. just a quiet tuesday morning, your inbox overflowing, the boss increasing your headache by preponing your deadlines, the coffee machine on its last breath and the fluorescent lights above flickering slightly like they, too, were tired of this job. and then there’s him.

lee jeno. clean-cut. soft-spoken. the kind of guy who always says “excuse me” when passing behind you, even when there’s plenty of space. always dressed a little too well for your casual office. not flashy—never that—but tidy, crisp. thoughtful. one cubicle down, diagonal from yours. he’s been here a while. a familiar face in the sea of semi-familiar ones. you’ve never really talked but only ever exchanged the kind of polite nods reserved for coworkers who share nothing but recycled air and a breakroom.

until today. “could you pass the stapler?” you look up, startled slightly by the voice.

he’s leaning just slightly over the low partition separating your desks, eyes trained on the corner of your workspace where your lonely black stapler sits. he gives you a smile. not flashy. not flirtatious. just—nice. warm. gentle. you blink once. then reach for it. “thanks,” he says. you nod. he returns to his screen. that’s it. except… it isn’t. because the next day, he borrows a pen. the day after that, post-its. then tape. then scissors. always returning everything. always smiling. always saying thank you like he means it. and now you’re wondering. is this flirting? some kind of extremely office-safe, hr-friendly version of it? or are you just painfully, embarrassingly overthinking it? or maybe did you have an unspoken crush on him? not that you can be blamed. - lee jeno is attractive. undeniably so. you’ve seen him once—just once—rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down in the middle of summer, and you swear you forgot how to form a coherent sentence for ten straight minutes. defined forearms. slim but strong hands. that razor-sharp jawline, often tilted thoughtfully while reading something on his screen. dark lashes. deep voice. a gym guy, apparently—you overheard it once when he mentioned it to jaemin (you weren’t eavesdropping, you just… have really good ears). you haven’t initiated anything. neither has he. but those tiny moments? the ones that make your heart skip? they’re adding up

────

FRIDAY | 4:30 PM

“soo… still down to try that new restaurant?” jaemin asks one afternoon, casually leaning on your desk during lunch with a fresh iced americano in hand—probably his fifth for the day. “obviously,” you reply, eyes lighting up. “people have been absolutely glazing it online. thanks for getting us a table!” he grins. “see you at 9 then.” just as he turns, he spins back around like a cartoon character. “oh, also—jeno’s coming. hope that’s cool?” you freeze. your face says i’m fine, but your body language screams mayday. “y-yeah. sure. totally chill,” you manage. “coolcoolcoolcool,” you say, immediately turning your head towards your computer, and then you see your reflection on the blank empty screen. you were blushing. hard. jaemin smirks knowingly as he walks off. of course he knows. he always knows. after all, he’s the mastermind who told jeno to borrow your stapler in the first place. ────

8:55 PM

the restaurant is low-lit and warm, the kind of place where the wood-paneled walls muffle outside noise, and everything feels just a little more intimate than it should. you arrive five minutes early. out of habit, mostly. or nerves. you’re not sure which. jaemin’s already there, somehow sipping an iced americano even here, scrolling through his phone while pretending not to notice your presence with a dramatic sigh. “i told you 9:00,” he says, without looking up. “it’s 8:55.” “still early.” he glances at you now, then raises an eyebrow. “cute top.” you ignore his antics, he’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. typical jaemin. your heart is already thudding too loudly, because jeno walks in right after. black shirt, sleeves rolled up. clean slacks. a bit of cologne, subtle but warm. his hair’s tousled slightly, and his eyes light up just a little when they land on you. “hey,” he says, with that soft smile. you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just smile back, scooting over so he can sit across from you. the conversation is light, easy. mostly thanks to jaemin, who fills every awkward silence with a joke, a story, an embarrassing anecdote about your office. jaemin and jeno were friends in school, you get to know that night, they were benchmates. jaemin always chose jeno as his partner for every game, every lab, and jeno just liked his company, so he stood with him always. jaemin talks about you to jeno too—how you both were first day interns and hit it off over a conversation about which seventeen album is truly the best. but every now and then, you catch jeno looking at you. not staring. not even for long. just—looking. like he’s seeing something he's trying very hard not to see too obviously. “so,” jaemin says mid-way through dessert, smirking at you over his spoon, “funny how you two never end up talking at work.” you nearly choke. jeno shifts in his seat. “like, what’s with all the stapler borrowing, huh? no small talk?” you glare at him. he grins. “i’m just saying. feels like there’s some unspoken office tension.” jeno lets out a quiet laugh. and then, after a beat—he looks at you. “i guess i just… wanted a reason to talk,” he says, voice soft. and your breath catches. your heart is thudding again. you manage a smile, small and shy. trying not to mess up words or blabber out something nonsensical. “i noticed,” you reply. the space between you feels full, suddenly. full of every little interaction. every thank-you. every passing smile. jaemin stretches obnoxiously. “well, look at the time! i’ve got a meeting with my bed in ten.” you roll your eyes. “you’re so obvious.” he shrugs. “you’re welcome.” and just like that, he’s gone with the wind. leaving you and jeno, two half-finished desserts, and a quiet restaurant glowing gold in the late-night hush. “i can walk you home,” he says, gently. not pushing. just offering. and something in you says yes. to the walk. to this night. to the maybe that’s been building between you both. ────

10:45 PM

the night is cool, with a breeze just strong enough to lift the corners of your coat and make you tuck your hands into your sleeves. the restaurant’s warm glow fades behind you, replaced by the hush of quiet streets and dimly lit sidewalks. jeno walks beside you, hands in his pockets, his steps matching yours. neither of you says anything at first. the silence isn’t awkward. it’s... full. full of unspoken things. of nerves and glances and the way your arms brush every few seconds and both of you pretend not to notice. “jaemin talks too much,” jeno says eventually, voice low. you laugh softly. “it’s his specialty.” he hums in agreement, then adds, “he wasn’t wrong, though.” you glance at him, catching the way his eyes flicker to yours and then away again, like he’s testing the water, like he’s afraid of saying too much too fast. “i... didn’t really need the stapler that day.” your breath catches. “oh,” you manage, and you’re smiling now. you can’t help it. “i just... i guess i liked the idea of you looking at me. talking to me.” he pauses. “even if it was just a stapler.” you stop walking, just for a moment. jeno turns, realizing you’re no longer beside him. there’s a streetlight above him, casting shadows across his face and soft highlights in his hair. “you could’ve just said hi,” you whisper. he steps closer. barely. but enough to make the air between you buzz. “i know,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. every day. but you always looked so focused. and i didn’t want to ruin that.” your heart is a mess of drumbeats and warmth. “you wouldn’t have.” silence again. then he says, barely audible, “could i maybe get your number... just for office related stuff, of course.” you nod, because your voice has already betrayed you too many times tonight. a soft smile tugs at his lips. the quiet kind. the kind you know he saves for only a few people. he walks you all the way to your apartment. and when he says goodbye, it’s not a hug. not a kiss. just a quiet “goodnight” and a look that lingers longer than it should. but your heart knows. it knows everything. ────

SATURDAY | 9:00 AM

the next day, the office is just waking up. it always feels colder in the morning—half because of the ac blasting too early, half because everyone’s too busy chasing caffeine to talk. desks are still half-empty. monitors glow. the printer sputters. someone sneezes. a mug clinks. you step in, trying to hide the stupid smile that’s been stuck to your face since last night. your coat is too warm for indoors but your hands are cold, so you hold your coffee tighter. and then you see it. your desk. something’s different. sitting neatly on top of your keyboard is a brand-new stapler. blue, shiny, absolutely unnecessary. you freeze. right beside it, a yellow post-it. his handwriting. neat. almost too neat. “thought you could use one that wasn’t cursed. —jeno :)” you almost laugh. it’s such a him thing to do—dry humor disguised as helpfulness. but your heart? it’s fluttering like it’s stuck in a romcom scene, an angelic choir singing along in tandem. you reach out and pick up the stapler.you didn’t even need one nor were you going to use one. but you want to keep this one forever. cherish it. maybe even pass it on as an heirloom.

just then, you hear someone clear their throat. “new office romance i should know about?” you don’t even need to turn around. jaemin. of course. loud, nosy, iced-americano jaemin. “shut up,” you say instantly, trying to sound bored. your cheeks are already heating up. but he walks past you, grinning like the devil, a bounce in his step like he’s in on the joke you’re still figuring out. and then—your gaze drifts. to the cubicle across. there he is. jeno. typing. or pretending to. his posture is the same—back straight, eyes on the screen—but his fingers are still on the home row keys, just gliding about. and when he feels your eyes, he glances up. It's brief, barely a second. but he smiles. like last night wasn’t just dinner. like it meant something.

a few hours later, a message pops up.

jeno lee “did the new one pass inspection?”

you “it’s still under review by the council. but i think they approve ;)”

jeno lee “let me know if it jams. i’ll personally fix it.”

you smile. a full smile this time. the kind that makes you reach for your coffee, lean back in your chair, and breathe in like something in your world has shifted.

jeno 💗 “what’s your go-to coffee order?”

you “anything except that poison jaemin drinks every day. ‘i like my coffee as dark as my soul’ ahh guy.”

jeno 💗 “haha.” “noted.”

the next morning there’s a cup of coffee on your desk, with yet another post-it note. “it’s the new specialty at a cafe near my place. i thought you’d like it :)”

that was truly the best coffee you had ever tasted. and maybe he started getting it for you every day. ────

WEDNESDAY | 9:00 PM

it's another day at the office. rain taps gently on the windows, a soft drumbeat to the silence of overworked employees and abandoned coffee mugs. you’re still at your desk & so is he. the fluorescent lights overhead are dimmer than usual, humming low like they’re tired too. you stretch your back, glancing at the clock. 9:04 pm. “still here?” comes his voice. you look up to see jeno leaning on the edge of his cubicle wall, sleeves rolled up, tie a little loosened. “so are you,” you shoot back. he smiles. “want company for the walk back?” you nod before your brain catches up.

the streetlights blur against the wet pavement, reflecting like oil paint smudged across the road. jeno’s shoulder brushes yours every few seconds—neither of you move away. he talks about the weird way jaemin eats ramen. you laugh. you tell him about your favorite childhood cartoon. he says he watched it too, and suddenly it’s three blocks later and you’re still talking. at a red light, you both stop. he glances down at you. you glance up. it’s a pause so charged you swear the rain quiets. “...you looked really pretty today,” he says suddenly. his voice isn’t confident or smooth—he says it like a secret. you don’t respond right away. just tuck your hair behind your ear, your face heating. he notices. the light turns green and you simply walk on. on reaching your apartment building you stop at the steps. he’s still holding the umbrella. you don’t say anything. he doesn’t either. there’s that moment again—that pause like the world might tilt if either of you moves. “i’m really glad you came to dinner that night,” he finally says, voice quieter than before. “been wanting to talk to you properly for months.” you blink. “...really?” jeno chuckles. “you had the office’s only decent stapler. of course i had to make a move.” you laugh—nervous and shy and full of everything you’ve been holding back. he takes a step closer. just one. not too much. “but also,” he adds, and this time his voice is a little more sure, “i like you. not just the lunch break, passing-notes kind. the kind where i want to sit and mindlessly watch silly romcoms with you, the kind where i want to walk you home every day and make sure you had dinner. the kind where - " he goes on. but words fall on deaf ears. you feel your heart clench, sweet and sharp. you’re about to respond when— “...so, if you’re okay with it,” he continues, scratching the back of his neck, “can i officially take you out sometime? like, not just coffee machine and post-it flirting. a real date.” you blink. once. twice. your face is warm. your chest feels like it’s glowing. “...yes.” you don’t even hesitate. his smile is soft. wide. genuine. and when he hands you the umbrella and waves goodnight, walking back with his hands in his pockets and a quiet bounce in his step. you think, maybe this started with a stapler. but it’s gonna end with something a lot more permanent. ──── BONUS : FEW WEEKS LATER | 2:00 PM

you, jeno, and jaemin were perched on the edge of the rooftop, paper lunchboxes balanced on your laps, chinese takeout - courtesy of jeno. the breeze is nice, the sky a little overcast, and jaemin's halfway through an enthusiastic rant about the company’s new vending machine layout.

“and like .. why did they move the green tea to the bottom row? what kind of criminal.. oh, thanks man.” he says as jeno hands him a napkin mid-rant, like muscle memory.

you say while giggling, “you guys are like an old married couple.”

jeno chokes on his rice. you pat his back helpfullly , still giggling.

jaemin just shrugs. “what can i say? i raised him well.”

jeno glares at him. mouthing ' stop. talking.' he knew jaemin could slip up any moment. for he always did.

jaemin does not stop talking.

“i mean, not to brag, but if it weren’t for me, he’d still be hovering awkwardly near your desk pretending he needed your stapler.”

you blink. “wait. what?”

jeno drops his chopsticks.

jaemin freezes. realizes.

“oh..." he mutters.

your jaw drops. “waitwaitwait. you told him to borrow my stapler?”

“in my defense,” jaemin says, holding up both hands, “i was just trying to save him from dying of heart failure every time you walked past. it was either that or fake a paper jam crisis.”

jeno is silent. fully hiding behind his lunchbox now.

you slowly turn to him. “is this true?”

“…maybe,” he mumbles.

you snort, trying to hold in your laughter. “oh my god. so all this time..”

“don’t act like it wasn’t genius!” jaemin interrupts. “you’re welcome, by the way. this whole slow-burn coffee shop romcom office love story? all me.”

jeno groans. “can i push him off the roof.”

you lean into jeno’s shoulder, grinning. “you should’ve just said hi.”

he sighs. “i wanted to. but every time i tried, you were always typing so fast. and glaring at your screen like it personally insulted your ancestors.”

you snort. “fair.”

jaemin raises his water bottle. “to true love, born from borrowing office supplies.”

jeno snatches it from him and takes a sip without asking. you think that’s revenge enough. read more ❤︎ please like, reblog and let me know your reviews (๑>◡<๑) this work is a piece of fiction and is not intended to reflect the real personalities, actions, or beliefs of the individuals portrayed. the idols mentioned are used purely as fictional characters for storytelling purposes. no harm, disrespect, or objectification is intended. everything written here is entirely imaginative and not based on real-life events or relationships.

#miya.writes #jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct jeno #jeno fluff #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream fanfic #jeno fanfic #lee jeno x reader #jeno lee #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff

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a-hazbin-reader · 1 year ago

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Can I please request a Vox x Female Childish Reader just like the meme that goes...

Random Imp: Hey! Some dude is jumping going off to the bungee swing backwards!

Vox who was currently talking to the other 2 V's: Hah, What an idiot

Female Reader: I'M GOING OFF THE BUNGEE SWING BACKWARDS!!!

Vox: Oh no...THAT'S MY IDIOT!!!

I'm up for any ask that gives Vox a headache

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think?? Cartoonish scenarios??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You are so goofy and childish and it's one of the reasons Vox actually fell in love with you

It's so refreshing to have someone who's always looking for fun things to do in Hell instead of being miserable or scared

When he first met you, he assumed you were just stupid, watching you run from a group of hungry cannibals while calling it tag

Almost considered leaving you to your fate but something about the way you squealed in excitement as they caught up to you made his heart flip

So he reluctantly saves you and you've become a thorn in his side ever since

A thorn that he's come to love and look forward to seeing every day, often wishing he could just blow off work to spend time with you

Literally does everything you want to do, even at the price of his own pride, that's how whipped Vox is for you

You wanna play the floor is lava?? He's jumping on the nearest piece of furniture and trying to knock you off your perch

You're playing hide and seek?? Fine! Vox is roping in the other V's and he's literally tearing apart everything to find your ass

How tf did you get INSIDE the couch!?!?!

He's in a meeting with the other overlords and you suddenly start a game of Duck Duck Goose, picking him as the goose???

You bet your ass Vox is chasing after you like you owe him money, the others just watching in bewilderment

You start a pillow fight?? He's going to start a pillow WAR

He wants to fucking WIN

Literally adores your childish nature but won't admit it to anyone, no matter how obvious it is

On the other hand...

You fucking stress him out sometimes, getting yourself into the strangest situations

Vox once caught you playing hopscotch with Alastor, winner gets to keep your soul

WHY DID YOU AGREE TO THAT

Relax Voxie~ I won anyways~

You get yourself into a game of musical chairs with a humongous dinosaur demon??

Vox is still having nightmares of you being squashed by that gigantic ass 😒

One of the worst things you've ever done to him is video call him while you're about to do a bungee jump

He was stuck discussing business with the other V's when you suddenly appear on his phone, immediately cheering him up

What could his cute Y/N want now~?

"Hey Voxie~! I'm about to jump off this bridge and do a flip! I want you to watch me!!"

"You're gonna WHAT!?"

Nearly short circuits right then and there, his screen glitching out from the sudden wave of stress

He zaps your way the moment he sees that you're jumping, grabbing the bungee rope and pulling you up with his own two hands

Vox ignores all your whining and pouting over him spoiling your fun, pulling you into his arms and shaking from the adrenaline rush

You are just so confused, you were only having fun...it's his fault for being so busy all the time that you get bored

He's still trying to get his breathing back to normal when he suddenly touches foreheads with you

He squishes your cheeks together and gives you a tired look

"You...are not leaving our bedroom for the rest of the week..."

"Voxie!! That's no fair!!"

I hope this is what you wanted!! I had so much fun writing it!

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin vox

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182-ash · 2 years ago

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Poly Sam and colby x reader headcannons bc I love these guys and I think they'd be cute boyfriends @oli-ivia helped me with some of these.

Colby is a human furnace and Sam is always freezing so they share hoodies all the time especially you and Sam stealing colbys

Sam cant sleep without both of u there so he likes to sleep/cuddle in the middle of you and colby- this makes it difficult when they go filming without you and Sam struggles to sleep so colby ends up facetiming you

When you have a headache they are very sweet and colby puts you in his hoodie with big hood so you can hide away- they turn off all the lights and talk really softly- colby lays you on his chest and gives you head massages and back rubs

Sam plays with colbys hair which makes him very sleepy and he he leans into the touch

^ colby is a workaholic even when sick so Sam uses this technique to get colby to stop working and actually rest

^when Sam gets sick, it really hits him bad so he tries not to kiss you guys when you're sick but colby always looks so sad he can't resist

^ Sam's just so sleepy the whole time he's sick and you just spend the day in bed with him because he's too tired to argue that you'll get sick too

This one's a bit longer but my current favourite thing on earth are jellyfish (its the audhd okay) so that's what inspired this

They're filming a TFIL video with you as a guest and they've 'broken in to an aquarium overnight' so you could see jellyfish and other ocean stuff undisturbed- sam and colby wanted you to be safe so they've actually booked the aquarium overnight but not told the fans because that would make the video a bit boring

^when you get in you immediately grab Sam's hand and run to find the jellyfish (or your favourite animal there) and just sit in front of the tank and watch- Sam pulls you into his lap

^After a little time Corey or someone is like: "dude- we gotta do smth so the fans have an interesting vid to watch"- Colby: "just let her sit- we can do stuff without her- she's enjoying it" cut to you happy Stimming sat in Sam's lap by the tanks

^they take turns sitting with you because A. Sam needs to be in the vid a bit and B. Colby was getting jealous that Sam was getting to spend all that time with you (listen he just wants to hug his partner alright- he can't resist how adorable you look in Sam's lap so happy)

^when they decide Sam should be in the video more but he wants to stay with you they give him the other camera so he can film you and him (you give lots of facts about the animal you're watching- its jellyfish for me) so the video ends up being 'colby and the others running round like idiots doing stupid impressions of the fish cut with cute clips of you in Sam's lap stimming and smiling and telling facts'

I could say lots more about that scenario but I don't want to talk too much on one thing so I might write smth separate abt it if u want so now on to more general ideas again

Such sweethearts when you're upset- they'll give you space if you want or they'll sit with you and talk about it- if you're okay with touch they'll pull you in for a hug and rub your back to calm you- colbys an anxious man as we know so he knows good breathing exercises for you

You guys find a stray cat and take it in- you call it smth stupid like 'cat'- cat likes you the most which will always slightly annoy the boys

When colby gets drunk, specifically wine drunk, he loudly sings along to cheesy love songs to you and Sam

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #sam golbach x reader #colby brock x reader #solby #solby x reader #poly fic

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chericherilvr · 8 days ago

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summary: Yeonjun is scared to gift you something he made. w/c: 891 warnings: cursing, fluff, all of the TXT being menaces to Yeonjun... the usual author's note: I started writing and I couldn't stop low key? wanted it to be around soob's wc but I almost doubled it... next reaction 1,5k?? lmfaoo

Dear reader, what is your favourite gift you've ever received? And what was the scarier gift you've ever given?

I got to say, there's nothing scarier than the reaction of someone you love to you. Especially when you want them to feel cherished, appreciated… Loved. You can't dictate how someone feels. And then the over-thinking starts. And then the thing you've spent hours working on, suddenly seems worst than no gift at all.

Just like the break down Yeonjun himself was going through.

"Oh lord, what if it is too much?" Beomgyu groans and throws Yeonjun a pillow.

"Just like I've told you for the past TWENTY MINUTES. It's fine and they will love it!"

"No, yeah, you're right, yeah yeah…" He nods to himself.

It wasn't any special occasion really, but he was out shopping… And he saw that cute plushy critter… And then he thought of making a couple key-chain… And he had the materials so… Safe to say, he bought the plushy and spent the last hour or so making the key-chains. Now, twenty minutes later—and after giving Beomgyu the biggest headache of his life. Yeonjun was waiting for your arrival for the usual Friday date.

As a—not so proud—over-thinker, Yeonjun imagines your reaction to his present. He first sees you walking through the door. Beautiful as always and with a killer outfit of course. And then you would see him, and the bag on his side, and probably tilt your head with the upmost adorable frown. He would give the bag to you, awaiting… Sigh, they probably will hate it.

"But," Yeonjun starts speaking, although is cut off by another groan from Gyu. Who stands up and points at him.

"If they hate it, which is quite impossible given how utterly sickening down bad for you they are," Beomgyu says before muttering under his breath, "which I don't know how…" Yeonjun glares at him. "Then you'll just try harder next time, or just I don't know, kiss them as a sorry"

"This isn't one of your dramas in which a kiss solves everything!! What if they like hate it so much they end up hating me?! What if it's too cheesy?! What if they feel uncomfortable?!"

"Dude, you might want to see a therapist for the underlying confidence issues" Beomgyu shakes his head and walks off to his room.

"I do not have confidence issues!!" Yeonjun screams after him, and follows Gyu with a frown. "Hey! Come back here!! I do not have confidence issues!!"

"Who are you screaming after, my love?"

The world stops. Yeonjun almost kicks the bag to the floor with how quick he is moving. You stand in front of him, eyes wandering full of curiosity—and with a killer outfit, of course. He scrambles to get put together and ignores Taehyun—who opened the door for you up your arrival—side eyeing Yeonjun almost with second hand embarrassment.

"No one!"

You nod slowly at his words, skeptically, before chuckling.

"Sure…"

Yeonjun clears his throat and walks over to you. He smiles and hugs you.

"Missed you so much! Was about to die without you!!" Your whole body twists with a warm feeling upon the confession.

"A bit dramatic, no?"

"Nah, he's saying the truth." A voice snaps you out of each other. "He was so ready to end it all if he didn't see you again."

Kai walks towards the coffee table, going to pick his phone left behind.

"Can I have a single moment of peace in this house in which no one interrupts me?! What happened to being a happy family?!"

Hyuka just refrains to snort and grabbing his phone, waving you goodbye. He walks a couple steps before pausing.

"What is this on the floor?" He bends down to grab the discarded gift bag before a feral Yeonjun drags him. Kai yelps. "HELP A LUNATIC IS TRYING TO KILL ME!! I AM WAY TOO YOUNG TO DIE!!"

You stare at the scene slowly raising your own phone and recording all of it. Perfect for blackmail.

"Aren't you going to separate them?" A voice says behind you.

"Oh fuck! You scared me, oh my god" You look at Soobin, who is eating some snacks. "Shouldn't you? Aren't you like the leader and the responsible one?"

Soobin shrugs and eats another chip before saying, "Four members is okay as well, one less kid to manage."

You just limit to follow him with your eyes, until he disappears inside the kitchen again. Triple blackmail in one, nice.

It takes a grand total of two minutes before Kai gets away from Yeonjun. You only hear Yeonjun muttering some words before the almost-dead Kai runs away to his room. Finally your boyfriend looks back at you, with the culprit of a gift back in hand.

"I have something for you," he says, blushing and avoiding to look at you in the eyes.

You grab the bag and carefully look inside. The most adorable plushy ever, with two key-chains—a big one with three initials—and a matching tiny one.

"His name is Boing, he jumps."

Looking back at Yeonjun you catch him with the same key-chain on his trousers. A handmade gift with the letters of your now tiny family.

"I hope it's ok—"

"I love you."

#yeonjun x reader #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt yeonjun #choi yeonjun x re #txt flu #¿ cheri writes .ᐟ

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writing-whump · 2 months ago

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The Sound of a Headache

Kieran visits an old friend, talks about pack machinations and terrible plans and gets called in for a vomiting emergency.

Kieran waited in that brand new office smelling of money for a good hour before Dominick finally showed up.

He got a satisfying yelp of surprise for his trouble and the funniest shocked look.

"Are you hellbent on giving me a heart attack?" Dominick asked. He wore a perfectly fit gray suit and a pink shirt. Like he just walked off a modeling mollo. "How did you get in?"

"Climbed up to the 12th floor through the window like a good stuntman," Kieran said with an eye roll and a grin. "Gerlinde let me in."

Dominick threw a disturbed look through the glass wall towards the table with his young, small secretary with a messy curly bun. She had the most innocent look and the most sly smile, when she caught his eye.

"Not like she is wrong to do it," Kieran reminded him with an amused huff.

Dominick let out a dramatic sight than abandoned his stylishly slanted table in front of the aquarium and sat down on the opposite couch to Kieran. "So what's up?"

Kieran look at his wrist without a watch with grin. "Mr. CEO. Do I have a time limit for my visit? Should I write myself into your calander to get included?"

"You have no gigs for this week," Dominick guessed dryly.

"We can't all be working our butts off all the time."

"I'm trying to win over the council for the next chairman vote, thank you." His eyes sparkled with excitement. "Just finished the funding for the new project. It's gonna be a hit, I'm telling you."

Kieran leaned back in the seat, arms propped on top. "As your most successful stuntman worker, I hope it has a lot of action."

Dominick returned his grin. "Of course. Scenes perfect just for you and your expertise." He rubbed at his face, copying Kieran's position and leaning back a little as well.

Kieran eyed him critically, notcing the pallor and the dark circles, despite the gell little waves of light cinnamon hair. "Dude, how many all nighters did you pull this time? Isn't the point of being a CEO that you have people to assign work to?"

"You have to give the right kind of work to the right person. I don't think you are much into team effort, Kier."

"Oh my god, you sound so boss-like right now," Kieran teased. But it was nice seeing Dominick in his element, even if it was work Kieran would not in million years, choose for himself.

"What about you? Your apartment project going well?"

Kieran huffed. "It's a bit slower than I imagined. You got any extra new info on Isaiah for me?"

Dominick raised an eyebrow. "I found out about the building ownership for you, didn't I? No upper hand from that?"

"I would have to use it against his pack. They don't know," Kieran grimaced, "and I don't want to hurt them."

"That's tricky, then, if you don't want anyone hurt," Dominick sounded smug instead of sympathetic, as if that proved Kieran had morals that won over his more sinister aspirations. "I'm glad though. I don't want to make an enemy out of Isaiah Wolfson."

"Oh? How did he get to you?"

"His Executioner...position or whatever it is? His influence is 10 times the size of what it was last year. If anything, I want him on my side, when I'm dealing with wolves."

Kieran stuck out his tongue at him. "Traitor."

"Wolf packs are the best investors," Dominick said with a shrug. "I got the second breath for this company because of shareholders from wolf packs. They are the richest families with their territories turning to estates and buildings they own."

"Still looking for stashes of gold?"

"All the big names have it. Though the middle sized ones are more willing to spend it to get a hold of this city." Dominick rubbed his hands together, eyes glinting. "I got a deal from the Blackwells for the next movie."

"Blackwells...Margaret Blackwell?"

"Yep. An ambitious witch. Kicked out her husband and took over the pack and it's growing, man."

"I don't get how that woman works. She has more human children than wolves...Matthew is cast out, and only her youngest daughter is a witchling."

"Precisely," Dominick said, leaning forward, fingers connecting at the tips. "A wolf pack of their size and money would never let me near their witches. But so many human daughters?"

"Jesus, man, you sound like you want to marry one."

When Dominick said nothing, smile still on, Kieran sat up straight at once. "Wait, really?"

"So what? I need someone wealthy and with a connection to an old wolf family that could invest in my bussiness? Ideal."

"You are so romantic," Kieran said dryly.

They didn't talk about Dominick's desperate yearning for a wolf community connection. They were both humans, but as much Kieran wanted out of the loop and his family circles, that much Dominick wanted in.

Dominick's mother was a human lover of a wolf with a high position in a middle sized pack (which was rich as hell, just not as established). His father had bussiness aspirations and needed humans for it, falling in love with his secretary.

Scandalous connection as it was, since humans were off limits to a powerful wolf. His human mother was considered a waste and his human son only worth in so far he could carry a shadow wolf gene. If a wolf ever wanted him in the pack, which no one did.

That Dominick had an insane bussiness instinct and could turn a dying movie production company into a leading and prospering one was a suprise wolves were too short-sighted to expect.

But it made Dominick known between the packs, which is also how Kieran got to meet and befriend him. He became a sort of informator between humans and wolves, with connections to some of the bigger names as his investors.

Since wolves were great at owning and keeping something, but not in multiplying and managing their money - which made them interested in humans who could. Preferably inside their packs.

Kieran scoffed at the image. "So what's the big plan?"

"Nothing much. I was at a few dinners with the Blackwells. Margaret's daughters are spirited to say the least. And it also created an opportunity with Isaiah."

"Huh?"

"He was here just a week ago—he asked me if I could arrange a meeting between the sisters at and his pack. Maybe like a premiere cinema stream? I'm assuming he wants their brother to meet with them outside their mother's reach."

"And how is that gonna help you win Margaret over?"

"I'm not sure who is going to have more pull—Isaiah or her. His name and rep mean more but she has money. But imagine I would help them get reconciled. I would have both." He looked at Kieran. "You are friends with him, right? Isaiah and Matt and the sisters in one pocket..."

Kieran frowned, crossing his arms on his chest. "That sounds risky, man."

"Shouldn't you be the one most down with it?"

"I risk myself, that's different." And he didn't think wolf-human family problems were entirely in Dominick's capacity to understand. Kieran knew no specifics of the Matthew case, but he had a few ideas and none of them could be solved over a movie.

"Look, the oldest one, Melissa, is a great catch. Doctor, knows her way around wolves, fitting background-"

"Anyone told you we are not in middle ages and that's not how marriage works anymore?"

"Depends on where," Dominick shot back, rubbing at his temples. His parents couldn't be together exactly for the arrangement reasons. Maybe that's why he didn't believe in love playing any part in the resulting happiness.

"I don't like this plan," Kieran said, straightforward as he was used to. "It's risky and you have no idea what you are getting into. You don't know why he got kicked out and if his sisters want him back at all."

Dominick huffed in disappointment, deflating like a baloon. "You are no fun."

Also likely the only one you told, Kieran realized.

"Hey, what about this. Let's go camping. Two weeks, just fresh air and a lake and the two of us. You will get some distance from these ideas and well-earned rest and everything will look fresh and different."

Dominick shook his head, then stopped himself with a minuscule wince. "You don't know anything about business. I can't just pack and up leave whenever anymore."

"You are exactly the one who can," Kieran said, giving Dominick a meaningful look. You shouldn't be taking unnecessary risks. Please think about yourself. He wanted to say it so bad, but didn't dare to. It was a touchy topic.

"Alright, I'll be going then. Don't let me stop you from making money." Kieran got to his feet.

Dominick still looked disappointed by the reaction, but he knew better than to argue, getting up to hug Kieran goodbye. "See you later, fall guy. Say hi to Alessia for me."

...

Kieran didn't know why he had such a bad feeling today. Bad enough to check on Dominick and see for himself. But there was nothing more he could do, was there? He could offer his support, distraction and a listening ear, but it wasn't like he could order him to sit and rest. Especially since Kieran would never follow such advice.

Here was to hoping Dominick would tell him if he actually needed something.

That evening around 10 pm he got a sudden call from Dominick though. Kieran called him right back, but when Dominick, didn't pick up, he called Gerlinde instead. The girl was immensely useful, immediately sending him Dominick's schedule for the day and assuring him the CEO was still at the firm.

Kieran took his motorcycle and headed straight there.

The building was dark, some of its glamour disappearing with the lights and the buzz of people in the offices. "Dominick? Hello?"

He looked through the place, the kitchen and the terrace, then settled on just dialing his number and orient himself by the ringing.

It led back to Dominick's office. Another all-nighter? Kieran was worried enough that even an accident call would be a relief.

He found the phone twitching on the desk like a dying fish. The lights were also off, the hush from the aquarium filter filling the room.

"Dom?"

There was a small whimper that had the hair standing up on his neck. Kieran circled the giant desk.

Dominick was on the floor, sitting next to the cupboard, arms wrapped around his knees and hunched over, which was a strange position for such a tall man. He was shaking.

Kieran kneeled beside him, heart somewhere in his throat. "Dominick? Hey, buddy, what's wrong?"

His head jerked up towards the voice, his eyes red and swollen. "Kier?"

"Yeah, it's me." Kieran put a hand on his shoulder, looking him over, though he had an idea. "Your head?"

Dominick blinked at him, then closed his eyes with a pained grimace, groaning. "Started...started as static in my ears...then the headache-now I can't see straight, Kier..." He sounded scared, small, all the confidence from just that lunch gone.

"You are such an idiot, you know that? All-nighters for a big project, what did you think would happen?" Kieran whisper-yelled, squeezing his shoulder. "I'll drive you home, come on."

"C-can't move. Everything is twirling and the lights- and-and-" Dominick lifted a hand towards Kieran so his friend could see. His hand was twitching, down from his elbow to the last two fingers, in 2 second intervals.

"Christ," Kieran cursed under his breath. "Hospital?"

"Apparently, it's normal," Dominick said, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. "Can happen now during an a-attack."

"Shhhh." Kieran shifted to sit next to him, pulling him into a hug. Dominick was shaking in his grip, heartbreaking little whimpers coming from where he pressed his face against Kieran's chest.

It started with the headaches. Those were normal for most of his teenage years. But the dizziness, lights and static sounds, the way faces blurred together and he couldn't catch his balance...that got a lot worse in the last years.

And all because of a chip in his brain from an injury, Dominick had when he was a child.

Kieran held him diligently, wishing there was a medication or magical cure he could give him at times like this. When he felt Dominick's head jerk up with a burp, he patted his arm gently. "Nausous, buddy?"

"I hate my fucking brain so much," Dominick said, voice still weak and whiny.

Kieran slowly untangled himself from him to locate a trash can filled with papers and position it into Dominick's lap. "Here. Do you want some water?"

Dominick shook his head. Tears were streaming down his face, more from the pain and disorientation than distress, or so Kieran hoped. He looked through the cabinet and desk for paper towels and a water bottle, pressing it against Dominick's temple.

The other man was left drooling over the trashcan, blinking and squeezing his eyes shut. His chest heaved with a retch.

Kieran rubbed wide circles on his back, biting his lip in worry.

The next retch still caught them both by suprise by how sudden and violent it was. Dominick's eyes were closed as he heaved, so Kieran held the trashcan under his chin, catching a small mouthful of water. The next belch brought up a bigger wave though, splashing against the paper, on the edge and Kieran's hand.

Proud for being used to more gruesome scenes than some puke on his hand, Kieran held his breath before wiping off his hand and then Dominick's chin. He took a fresh towel for the mess of tears and snot on his cheeks.

"W-wanna go home, Kier," Dominick moaned, wrapping both hands around himself with a shiver as if he was cold.

"I'll get you home, buddy, don't worry." Kieran stripped Dominick off the suit jacket. His eyes got more used to the dark by now, so it was easier to gather Dom's bag and other things, put his car keys into his pocket and open all the doors for them to walk through. He even called the elevator in advance.

"You know how risky it is to do such projects," Kieran said as he supported most of Dominick's weight—he was taller than him by a head—towards the elevators. "Stress, no sleep. You have to be more sparing with yourself."

"C-can't exactly finish things like that," Dominick said, shutting his eyes against the light in the brightly lit elevator. He sagged in Kieran's grip, pressing his forehead into the crook of his neck to block out the light.

"I'll force Gerlinde to make to free every half a month for camping with me," Kieran threatened, holding him tighter around the waist. It was a delicate balance since he wasn't sure if the pressure wouldn't set Dominick into vomiting.

Dominick's left hand was twitching at his side. Kieran was trying very hard not to stare at it.

They finally reached the underground floor. The ding of the opening door had Dominick spasming in Kieran's hold, leaning over to vomit a giant watery wave on the floor. There were pieces of rice floating in it.

Kieran grimaced, helping Dominick step over the mess. He propped him up against the wall, patting his cheek. "Hey, you with me? Dom?"

"Hmm?" Dominick squinted at him, having to catch himself on Kieran's arms to not fall.

"I'm gonna get the car. Can you stay here for a minute?"

Dominick gave an unsure nod, then leaned down with his chin on Kieran's shoulder with a sigh, that morphed into a burp. His eyes were closed, his left hand still twitching.

"Buddy..." Kieran protested gently, rubbing his back from behind.

"Thanksss..thanks for coming."

Kieran rolled his eyes, not even acknowledging the gtatitude. That was a given. "You are alright. Just leave it to me."

#sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #hurt/comfort #bromance #werewolf wip #my writing #Dominick #Kieran #this is long #and has a new OC #I'm terrible I know

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tiredofthehumanlife · 8 months ago

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Barty's study group and the horny headache

Barbie dolls: Barty x gn! Reader

Word 1.1k

Summary: you have a headache and are horny so you beg your boyfriend to give you a handy

Warnings: Barty is reluctant at first but you ask him very nicely and he agrees I don't know if that's improper consent, I don't explicitly say what genitalia you have, you like Barty's ass, Barty has a stick and poke, regulus and Pandora kinda embarrass you two just a lil, I blueball you guys idk dude write your own porn ig, you get sexual favors while having a headache, you ask barty to give you a hand bc you want to go to sleep idk I'm sleepy just read it or something, thats it I think

Your day was going well, too. Then you got a splitting headacche. You could feel it behind your eyes. You just needed to lie down in a dark room with no sound but your own breathing. Now that you actually were buried under blankets, you realized you needed more than that.

You weren’t even in your own bed, you were in Barty’s bed. You were waiting for him to get back from his last class, his history professor seemed to drag on past dismissal. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, they kept drooping. You slipped just under concious but you couldn’t sleep with the pain shooting through your brain.

The dark room wasn’t the only thing you needed, you yearned for your boyfriend’s hands. One good handy and you knew the ache behind your eyes and between your legs would go away. You waited patiently under his blankets, slipping through sleep like a ship through waves.

Eventually, his door did open. Barty moved to the side of the bed, setting his bag down and toeing his shoes off. He leaned down and pecked your forehead, pulliing you out of your half sleep. He was telling you about his class as he undressed from his uniform. None of the words registered in your head but you were able to comprehend his shirtless body. He pulled on an old ratted t-shirt that he stole from Regulus, who stole it from Sirius. You sat up on your elbow when his thumbs dipped into the band of his pants.

“-Know, I told him. He didn’t listen. This is why I hate group projects. No one does their part, which includes my part. I’m not doing that stupid-“ You lost track of his words again as he pulled his uniform slacks down his thighs. You stared at the back of his thigh. A small stick and poke Evan just barely slipped out from the bottom of his boxer briefs. ‘Eat me’ just under the curve of his ass. He leaned over to the legs of his pants off his ankles, giving you a better veiw of his ass. Barty straightened up and started pulling on his pajama pants, jumping once they traveled over his knees. When the pants reached his hips again, his words reached your ears again.

“-don’t study. I don’t know why they invited me.” Barty turned around to face you, tossing his tie on top of his trunk. He raised an eyebrow at you. “You okay? You don’t look so good.” Barty said, reaching out to press the back of his hand to your head. You groaned and flopped back into his blankets.

“Headache.” Barty hummed. He pressed his knee into the mattress reaching out for you. Barty kissed you on your cheek.

“You want me to get you something? I can’t stay long I’ve got that study group. I really think Regulus and Panda just want to copy off of me.” He said, whispering his last line as a second thought. You sat up on your elbow again, knocking your head into Barty’s neck.

“Do you have to go?” You asked. Barty groaned.

“Oh, I know. I know, but they want me to come so it might be an intervention. Plus, I don’t want to stand them up. It shouldn’t take long before I’m back and I’ll give you all the headache cuddles you want.” Barty said, pulling you up into a sitting podition and rubbing your back. You scooted closer to him, sitting along the edge of the bed. Barty slipped his knee down, running his hands up and down your forearms. You shook your head, pressing your chin into his stomach.

“I don’t want cuddles.” You whispered. Barty looked down at you, shrugging his shoulder.

“Well, what do you want? A thousand dollars?” Barty joked, letting out a laugh. You shook your head: too horny and tired for laughs. You rubbed the side of your face into his shirt.

“I want you, Barty.” You looked up at him, staring into his eyes. “Please, skip study group and tear my pants off with your teeth.” You said, slipping your hands behind him. You ran your hands over his ass, feeling the hems of his boxers. You missed seeing his stick and poke. You widened your eyes and Barty. Barty tossed his head back before looking back down at you.

“Oh, baby. You know I would if I could. I can’t stand them up.” Barty said, one hand finding your cheek and the other rubbing your back.

“Don’t stand them up, just be late. Please I need you and your pretty hands. It’ll be real quick. I just need you to get me off so I go to sleep and my headache goes away.” You said, digging your fingers into the flesh of his ass. Barty huffed out his nose, gently caressing your cheekbone.

“You’re using me as a pain killer, no way I’m doing that when you’re all delirious from sleep,” Barty said, trying to comfort you by rubbing your arms. You let out a sound that Barty would call a whine, though you beg to differ.

“Am not. I’m just crazy horny and also can’t sleep. It’s a win-win-win situatiion.” You muttered in Barty’s shirt. You realsed his ass from your hold, gently rubbing it to soothe the pain that probally followed your tight grip.

“See. You’re so delirious you said one too many wins.” Barty said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You buried your nose into Barty’s stomach for a second before pulling back.

“No. I get an orgasm, I get to go to sleep, and you get to give me a handy. Which I know you love.” You said, dragging your hands to the front of his body and pushing the hem of his shirt up just a little. You pecked his happy trail, looking up at him. Barty pessed his lips together in a pout. You dropped his shirt and tipped your chin into his stomach again.

“Please?” You said, blinking your eyes up at Barty. Barty groaned and tilted his head back.

“I suppose Regulus and Pandora could wait a few extra ten minutes,” Barty said, before slipping under the covers with you.

You were right of course, it only took a few minutes and Barty was getting up to get a washcloth. You were alreading slipping into sleep by the time he came back, cleaning your body while you fell alseep in his covers.

After washing his hands and kissing your forehead goodbye, he left for a study group. Pandora and Regulus were not surprised that Barty was late, they were honestly expecting it. His excuse was that you had a headache and he had to bribe the healer to give him a potion to relieve your pain. When Regulus asked if the potion worked at dinner. You raised a brow, falling into silence. Barty cleared his throat and tapped his head. You caught on, agreeing and saying it worked wonders. The potion really did help.

#barty crouch jr x reader #barty jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr x you #marauders era #marauders #the marauders #the marauders era

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scarletwinterxx · 1 year ago

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but i loved you harder - jaehyun scenario

hello ~ so this one is a request and coincidentally i was writing something for Jaehyun. I too am deep in my Yuno feels (i don't think ever recovered honestly😂) hope you like it!!!

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Dude, I said no. She'll be so mad at me if I do"

"It's for our funds" Johnny insists

"But-"

"No buts, once we reach like $100 I swear I'll cut the line. I have faith in you"

At this point Jaehyun can't say anything that would stop Johnny. He's thinking about bringing in his last card but he'll save it for the last minute so for now he says yes.

Come the day of the festival, word got around that Jaehyun was going to do the date booth so ofcourse the line was long by the time he arrived there. Johnny right in front calling even more students to join while Haechan stands beside him collecting payments.

"Oh here's our star of the day. Okay so who's up first?" Johnny was answered with tens, maybe 20 or more screams from the crowd. Jaehyun shoots a shy smile before going behind the booth.

It's only the fifth girl before he heard the shouting from somewhere in the back.

"JOHNNY J. SUH I SWEAR TO GOD YOU BETTER RUN" Jaehyun hears you before he could see you. He then looks at Johnny, seeing the nervous look on his face and an even more scared Haechan beside him.

"You're on your own, hyung" Haechan mumbles, hiding behind the 6 foot tall guy.

The girls at the very front and the one Jaehyun was just talking to turns their heads towards you, seeing what the commotion is all about.

"What the heck is this?" you ask, eyes blazing.

"A booth"

You stare down the guy taller than you, giving him a chance to change his answer. "Oh come on, it's for our frat funds. And Jaehyun said yes" Johnny says

"Well" Jaehyun interferes making the three of you look over at him, Johnny shoots him a look while you glare at him. He knows the anger isn't really directed towards him, but you can be very scary when you want to be.

"I doubt that, this whole thing has yours and yours name written all over it" you point at the double AA and triple AAA brothers

"How much do you need to raise?" you ask "Like hundred dollars" Haechan answers

You pull something from your back pocket, a crisp hundred bill before putting it inside the jar Haechan was holding.

"There, done. Show's over people. You, let's go"

"Yes ma'am" Jaehyun gets up from his seat, not needing to be told twice. Following behind you.

When you were a few booths away, he catches up with you. Pulling you back by you arm.

"You're not really mad at me, are you?" he asks

"Depends"

"Hey, I swear I told Johnny no. I was gonna tell you about it but honestly I just wanted to watch you rip at him" he tells you with a smile, his dimples showing.

Just like that you feel some of the annoyance and anger melting away. When you don't say anything back, Jaehyun takes this chance to step closer to you. Holding both of your hands in his.

"Don't be mad, please?"

You roll your eyes at him, all is forgiven already.

"I'll buy you ice cream?"

"WIth two scoops?"

He smiles, intertwining your fingers together before leading you towards the ice cream stand. "Two scoops of cookie dough with extra chocolate drizzle just for you"

"You can't still be mad at me"

Currently you, Jaehyun and Johnny are sitting outside a cafe just to hang out. Even though Johnny gives you headaches half of the time, he is a very good friend of yours.

"You'll be surprised with how long I can hold a grudge" you answer back

"I gave your boyfriend back"

"Exactly, he's mine so stop using him for profits" you bite back, Jaehyun listens quietly beside you. His arm resting behind your chair.

"We got that pingpong table from the car wash benefit we did last summer, we're trying to get a pinball machine next" Johnny says

You do remember that frat event. You've never seen so many girls and some guys line up for a carwash done by a bunch of frat boys. Yuta definitely put on a show, Jungwoo also had fun being the adrenaline junkie that he is following whatever Yuta was doing. Mark and Jeno were more shy about it but had one of the longest line.

And Jaehyun, well safe to say you made him wash your car a few times until the line behind you got tired of waiting for their turn. You were debating whether to cut their water supply line but you know Taeyong would scold you so you didn't.

"Go find someone else" you grumble

"Okay then let me ask you, let's say you're in a cafe inside with another friend and this other friend got cold. Jaehyun's the only one who got a jacket, is it okay if he lends her his jacket?" he asks you,

Jaehyun smirks from beside you, waiting for your answer.

"Do you enjoy having your head attached to your neck?" you ask Johnny

"Come on, will you?"

"Of course not! Did your mom not raise you to always bring a jacket in case it gets cold?" you sassily ask back

"I don't see you bringing a jacket around" Johnny counters

"That's cause I have a Jaehyun. She can get her own boyfriend to borrow her jacket from, but until then have fun being a human popsicle"

Jaehyun smiles, his hand absentminded drawing circles on your back as he listens to you.

It's endearing to him really. To some it might sound like you're too much, too jealous, maybe even insecure but Jaehyun knows it's the opposite. And if he's being honest, he's way worse than you. If sees a guy even looking at you for a second too long he's right behind you hovering, a silent warning to back off.

When in public together, if he's not holding you he'll always be a step away. At parties he would be attached at the hip with you, even going to the bathroom to guard the door for you.

If positions were switched he'd be livid too if he sees you in a dating booth smiling at a random dude. Only he can make you smile, only he can make you blush and laugh and moan.

Shaking his thoughts away, he looks over at you still arguing with Johnny. Noticing the breeze got a bit colder since the sun is setting, he shrugs his jacket off to put it around you

"Oh my god, I cannot with you two" Johnny says as he watches the two of you. Slipping your arms through the sleeves, immediately smelling Jaehyun's perfume around you.

"Like I said, I have a Jaehyun"

It's finally the end of a long week, you invited Jaehyun over your place to cook dinner and have an indoor date to end your week together.

The two of you love cooking together, when you first started dating you used to cook for him and bring him packed lunches. Then one time he invited you over to cook dinner for you. At some point cooking became part of date night and it's now one of your favorite things to do with him.

While Jaehyun stirs the noodles on the pan, he feels you hug him from behind. You stand on your tiptoe to kiss him on the jaw, earning a smile from your boyfriend.

When it's just the two of you, you're more clingy towards him. In contrast with your strong personality around his friends, you're more soft spoken and gentle when it's just him around.

"Your birthday is coming up, what do you want to do?" you ask him

"Do you want to go on a date? It's valentines"

You shook your head, stepping to the side to look at him. Jaehyun peaks down at you, "You don't want to go out?"

"If that's what you want, we can celebrate valentines some other day. I want to celebrate your birthday" you tell him.

Jaehyun smiles at you, rubbing his nose against yours before giving your lips a quick peck. He can't get too distracted since he's still cooking. He burnt something before when the two of you forgot about the ramen you were cooking and got busy making out on the kitchen counter.

In his defense he craved you more than the ramen.

"Well if that's the case. What I want for my birthday is to go on a date with my favorite girl"

You smile at him, "Anywhere or is there somewhere you want to go to?"

"Can I plan it?"

"But it's your birthday"

"And I really want to take you out on a date, give me your day and consider that the best gift you could give me"

You look at him, he looks back at you waiting for you to fold. When you roll your eyes at him he knew he won.

"Fine but I'm getting you another gift, you can't say no!"

The two of you enjoy dinner, cleaning up afterwards before putting on a movie you're not really going to watch.

You'll give it to him, a record time of 4 minutes after the movie starts before he pulled you on his lap to kiss you breathless.

"That's a record" you mumble when the two of you broke apart to catch your breath

"What?" he asked, still dazed

"You made it past the opening credits" you giggle, tangling your hands behind his neck to pull him closer to you until he's a breath away.

"I was trying to see if you really wanted to watch the movie" he smirks, holding your hips down against his

"Liar, you would've distracted me whether I wanted to watch it or not"

"Okay you got me there, but what can I do. I just want to kiss my girlfriend all night and all over. Am I not allowed to do that?" He smiles before capturing your lips again, then he's leaving a trail of kisses along your skin. From your lips to your cheeks to your jaw down your neck. His hands now under your shirt to grip your waist.

"Yuno Jeong, believe me when I say this you are allowed to do all of that to me whatever it is you have in mind right now"

"You, you're all that is in my mind right now"

#story #fic #tags #nct #nct 127 #nct jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun au #jaehyun boyfriend #nct imagine #nct fluff #nct oneshot #nct reco #nct scenario #jaehyun scenario

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hyungseos-cafe · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: P1harmony Jiung x GN!Reader Ft. Theo and Keeho

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Warning: Swearing, Jiung being an idiot lol

Word count: 1.2k +

Summary: When work climbs to the top of his priorities, everything else around him seemed to fall apart, including his relationship with you. They say to never let work get in the way, but when your boyfriend is a famous producer, things get murky.

A/N: i was inspired by rach’s jiung headcanon haha so go check it out! OH AND HI RACH!! SEE IT'S NOT ALL ANGST!! your heart can rest easily. Also shout out to Theo and Keeho for being persistent and saving the relationship. And thank you to those who showed interest in this fic!!!! I hope to write for piwon more 🥹 P.S. there's something very important written in the tags so pls be sure to read it ~

Order for: @sxfterhearts @p1ecesofate @issadumbass @stellxx @classicicarus @halaboyz @chenleluvr @astro-doll-the-star @zynz0 @orangebl0ssoms - unable to tag

(lmk if you want to be removed)

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“You’ve changed”

Jiung continued to work at his desk, it was like you were talking to the wall.

“Jiung, did you even hear me?”

“Yeah, I get it, I’ve changed. What’s new?”

“What do you mean what’s new? You missed all our dates this month and not to mention our 2 year anniversary”

“I already told you, deadlines have been killer this month. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Oh I don’t know, be my boyfriend? It doesn’t feel like I’m in a relationship anymore”

It was your last sentence that brought Jiung out of his work. Truthfully he’s been thinking over your relationship too, and you’re right, he has changed.

“Look, if you’re wanting the reason why I’ve been missing our dates or whatever… it’s work”

“I get that you’re busy Ji, but it doesn’t feel like I have a boyfriend”

“If you want a boyfriend then maybe you should look elsewhere because I don’t think I can give you what you deserve”

You sat at the couch in his studio stunned, sinking deeper into the cushion below you, you were speechless.

“So that’s it? This is how we end things? Two years Ji, two fucking years just thrown away because you’ve been ‘busy with work’ you’ve got to be kidding me”

Jiung sighed, his head pressed into the palm of his hands, a headache coming on as he thought about his current predicament.

“I’m sorry but I tried okay, and I already told you, I can’t give you what you deserve. I’m sorry if I disappointed you”

You slowly sat up, tears starting to well up as you gathered what remnants remained in his studio; your sweater, your blue blanket and a Polaroid the two of you took together at the Han River.

“Okay, I’m leaving then. So much for two years Ji”

“I’m sorry”

Jiung slowly led you out of his studio, watching you turn the corner as you walked out of his life forever. He never wanted what you had to end, but his greed got the better of him and clouded his judgment.

A few months later Jiung receives a call from a familiar voice, Taeyang

“Dude, you have to talk to Y/n”

“Why? I hurt them didn’t I? I thought they didn’t want to talk to me”

“They’ve been ignoring all of our calls the past few months. The only person who can get through to them is Keeho”

Keeho was a mutual friend, well maybe best friend. He always rooted for your relationship knowing how difficult it was dating a popular producer. Keeho was more than just your best friend, he was your voice of reason, a true confidant and wonderful listener.

“Y/n, you can’t just ignore our calls like this. We all care about you so much. You had me worried sick”

“I know, I’m sorry Keeho”

“I don’t think you do, I was so worried you got sick or that you haven’t been eating. You know Jiung would be mad, right?”

“Jiung and I aren’t together anymore”

It took everything out of him not to raise his voice at you. He knew how much Jiung cherished you and how hard he fumbled when it came to you. Jiung actually called Keeho a couple days ago to air out his grievances ever since he let you slip between his fingers.

“I know, but he still cares about you Y/n”

“How would you know? It’s not like you talk to him anymo–”

“Just shut up for a second and listen to me, okay” Keeho firmly gripped onto each side of your shoulders forcing eye contact with you

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but I can’t watch you tear yourselves apart like this. I love the both of you so much, so listen to what I am going to say, okay? No interruptions!!!”

You nodded as your shoulders drooped and you leaned in to rest your forehead against Keeho’s chest, feeling the reverberation as he spoke.

“Jiung is going to be pissed, but he told me last week that he still loves you. Trust me Y/n, that boy loves the shit out of you. He wouldn’t leave his studio last week because he was apparently writing you a letter. I told him you liked receiving letters, so he wrote one…”

Keeho gently held your head in his hands, brushing the stray hairs that fell out of place and smiled down at you. You smiled back and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking his every word in.

“Thank you Keeho, I should try to go see him tonight then”

“I’ll drop you off if you want? My apartments 3 blocks away from his studio anyways, but only if you’re okay with it”

“O-okay, I actually really miss him” You felt almost sheepish admitting your remaining feelings.

A little less than 10 minutes later you stood in front of Jiung’s building where his studio is. You let yourself in with Jiung’s code. Walking down the dark corridors, you felt your heart skip a beat. As you rounded the corner, you could see warm light spilling from the room in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you gently knocked on the door.

“Theo I told you I was-” His eyes widened as you stepped through the door.

“Y/n? You’re here… I thought you didn’t want to see me”

Sadness was evident in his voice as he gently grabbed your hand, guiding you to the couch inside his studio. His touch tentatively lingered on your hand as he struggled to meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry” you both started, meeting each other's eyes, Jiung let out a quiet breath, smiling as he took in your features.

“Don’t be, I should be the one apologizing. I wasn’t the best boyfriend and I should have done more”

“And I’m sorry for walking out on you… I heard from Keeho that you wrote me a letter”

“Oh, I– Yeah, I have been busy writing this letter to you. I’m not sure if you want to read it though. I don’t want it to seem disingenuous”

“Ji, you’re always genuine and I would love to read it if you’ll let me”

He turned around to rummage his desk, searching for said letter that was hidden amongst the stack of music sheets and notebooks.

Jiung hesitated, letter in hand, he tapped the back of your hand before scooting closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder, gently placing the letter in your hand and interlocking your fingers.

“I missed you, I missed this”

You let go of his hand unraveling the letter Jiung wrote to you, tears threatening to fall as you read his letter, feeling the emotions he poured so purely into his letter.

The night went on with hushed conversation as the two of you worked to repair your relationship. To say that Keeho was relieved was a massive understatement. As soon as Theo let him know that your relationship was reconciled, he immediately rushed to call you.

“Hey Keeho, what’s up?”

“Theo told me you’re back together! I’MSOHAPPYFORYOUTHATICOULDCRY” He exclaimed from the other line

“Awe, me too. Thank you for fighting for me Kee, it really mean–”

Before you could continue Jiung erupts from the background to thank Keeho for his diligence and persistence.

“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full, Y/n”

“Jiung’s just happy he’s back with me at my apartment, but thank you. I’ll talk to you soon! And next time we get lunch, it’s on us!”

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olderthannetfic · 1 year ago

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What's the current consensus (among you and your blog followers that is) on the good ole discourse topic of "fixed top-bottom roles dominate in fandom because straight women are imposing a heteronormative binary on slash and femlash"? Because that popped up recently in the fanfiction subreddit, and the replies (mostly blaming straight women and stereotypes, with the occasional smattering of "examine yourself") have been giving me a rage-induced headache.

LOL.

There is nothing new in this argument or my reactions to it.

Strict roles often come from men and from offline queer culture, not just from women and BL/slash.

The women (and "women") who like strict roles are often not straight, and the people whining about The Straights have no basis for telling who's who, which makes them inherently transphobic, biphobic, homophobic pieces of shit.

Role-based relationship dynamics are not necessarily heteronormative.

What this shit is, fundamentally, is reheated queer community wank from like the 80s about how butch/femme is insufficiently progressive and your sex life is political, wah wah wah.

People who fall for it in fandom now are some combination of radfem poisoned and those defensive idiots who think the cis gay men will validate them more than the BL fan sitting next to them.

They might be a trans man asserting that he's more male than you and thus more valid while ignoring that he isn't hanging out in other dude spaces because they disrespect his gender and/or laugh at his delusions about horny content. They might be a nonbinary person asserting their not-femaleness by asserting that everyone else is the most stereotypical cishet woman ever. They might be a woman pulling that "my gay best friend" shit.

Regardless, they're all the same morons we saw in the 90s, futilely hoping that some man will validate them.

No one is going to validate them.

If they could write for beans, they'd be a famous BL author themselves, making everyone like whatever dynamic they prefer. Instead, their only skill is crying about how the talented and productive people waste time on The Wrong Art.

Laugh in their faces. It's what they deserve.

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tokkiwrites · 1 month ago

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more deadpool smut! you write him really well, i’d love a dom wade again with loads of uses of pet names

summary: sometimes wades jobs don't always go as planned, and it drives him mad. good thing he has a way to release all of that pent up anger and stress.

tags: afab reader, established relationship, unprotected p in v, mean wade (kind of), cream pie, a bit of hair pulling.

>____< note : omg ty so much for this request and so sorry it took so extremely long!! uni is kicking my ass rn 😭😭😭😭 i hope you enjoy this short fic!!🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

The warehouse smelled like motor oil, damp wood, and clearly dog piss. The flickering overhead lights buzzed like they were seconds from giving up—much like Wade was right this moment. He ducked behind a rusted-out forklift, gripping his gun with one hand and pressing the other against his temple like he had a raging headache. (Spoiler: he did.)

"This was supposed to be easy!" he groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. "One guy. One bullet. Quick in, quick out—like my prom night!" A hail of bullets slammed into the metal beside him. Wade peeked around the corner just in time to see his target (let’s call him Mr. Oh Shit He’s Getting Away) sprinting toward the exit. "Are you kidding me?!" Wade shouted after him. "Dude, this is so rude. I put time and effort into this! I even picked a special murder playlist! You know how hard it is to find the right balance between high-energy gunfight and melancholic introspection?" More bullets whizzed past him and he sighed. "Jesus, hold on, let me deal with these fuckwads first!" He popped out of cover, raising his gun, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

One of the goons dropped instantly. Which was great! Except for the tiny, tiny problem that the guy he just shot was not the one he was hired to kill. The entire warehouse went dead silent. Even the guy he'd been aiming at looked genuinely offended. Wade blinked, then let out a long, slow whistle.

"Shit. That is not the guy. Wrong dude." He turned to the remaining henchmen, raising a hand. "Okay, listen. Before anyone gets mad let’s just acknowledge that mistakes happen, right? We’ve all sent a text to the wrong group chat before. We've all thought the bread was gluten-free when it was, in fact, gluten-full. And I clearly shot the wrong guy. Can we all just take a deep breath and—" Cue another hail of gunfire.

"Okay, not breathing, got it!" Wade shouted, diving behind a stack of crates. Mr.Oh Shit He’s Getting Away was Officially gone. Wade groaned, thumping his head against the crate. "I hate when they run. It’s like, dude, if I wanted to do cardio, I wouldn’t wear a mask that literally makes it harder to breathe."

With a resigned sigh, he pulled out a grenade, chucked it in the general direction of the remaining bad guys "Buh-bye!" He turned on his heel as an explosion rocked the building. "And that’s my cue to leave!"

The door to Wade’s apartment swung open with a bang. You barely flinched. You were used to Wade's entrances being theatrical. He stomped inside, still wearing his blood-splattered suit, mask slightly askew. His hands were clenched into fists, his whole body radiating pure frustration. "Hey, babe," you greeted casually from the couch, not looking up from your book.

"Hey, babe," he mimicked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How was your day? Oh, mine? Well, thanks for asking! It was a shitshow! Not only did my target escape, but I accidentally shot some rando who was not on the list. Do you know what that does to my Yelp reviews?" You snorted. "Pretty sure the people hiring you don’t check Yelp."

"Well, they should!" He ripped off his mask, tossing it across the room. "You know what I don’t get paid for? Collateral damage! Unless I start invoicing for my emotional trauma, which I might!"

He throws his hands up before he stormed over to you, flopping dramatically onto the couch with his head in your lap. He lets out a loud groan. "This job sucks, babe. Sucks more than a vampire on a juice cleanse."

You hummed, running your fingers down his back. "But now you’re home."

"Yes, I am home," he sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your touch melted away some of his tension. "Where my very hot, very patient, very understanding girlfriend will make me forget all about my terrible, horrible, not good, very bad day." You raised a brow as he smirks. "Oh? And how do you expect me to do that?" He sits up, pulling you closer by the hips so that you are almost sitting on his lap. Wade’s smirk didn’t just widen—it twisted, dark and dangerous, like a predator. And he seemed quite ready to attack his prey.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. He tilted his head, eyes dragging over you. He was deciding how he was going to ruin you. "You always know how to fix me, don’t you, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice low, edged with something sharp. His lips hovered over yours, teasing, taunting. "Always sitting pretty, waiting for me to come home, looking like you want me to take all this shit out on you."

His fingers trailed up your sides, slow and deliberate before he suddenly gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was firm. Possessive. "That why you’re so quiet?" he continued, cocking his head to the side. "Hoping I’ll lose my patience? Hoping I’ll break you a little and fuck out all of my frustrations on you?" He huffed out a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. His other hand slid up your thigh, squeezing it hard. "W-wade..." You manage to whisper out.

"You should be careful what you wish for, baby," he murmured, voice dripping with amusement like he was mocking the state you were already in. "I’m in a really bad mood." His lips finally crashed against yours, desperate, ruthless. He wasn’t asking. He was taking. You had to give in.

He throws his lips at your neck, your soft whimpers filling the room. Wade wastes no time and pulls the blouse you were waiting over your head, the warmth of hia body so close kissing your exposed skin immediately. He was staring at you as if it was the first time he'd seen you like this. "Look at those..." he groans and deliveres a harsh slap to your breasts making them jiggle slightly as you let out a pained whine. "That hurt?" and you not shyly. "Good." he replies, coldly.

"Wade, please.." Another faint smirk broke through the fatigue on his face. "You're gonna be good for me, aren't you? Gonna be a good little girl?" he asked, his voice a low rasp, like gravel scraping across your skin. His words were sinking deep into your bones. "Yㅡyes." you say, voice quiet, buried under the arousal and the sudden want for more.

"Yeah..." his large palms start to grab and pull at the rest of your clothes, undressing you slowly, savoring and drinking you up with his eyes. Your naked body was shivering, you didn't know if it was from the temperature or because of the anticipation playing with your heartstringsㅡ you just knew you needed to give everything you had to Wade right this moment and make him forget about all of his problems. He leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your neck all the way to your shoulder, and you try to bite back your moans. "Let me hear you, baby, don't hold back." He doesn't sound pissed, just a bit disappointed you would try to hide something so beautiful from him.

In mere seconds he's naked too, but you don't have much time to notice what he's done once you're pushed face down onto the cold couch. His rouch hands lay over your trembling hips. "You're gonna let me use you now. So don't ask for anything in return. Just gotta let me fuck you." Gosh, he was mean. You bite your lower lip, humming a soft 'yes' as the tip of his hardened cock asked for entrance. "Please..." he tuts in annoyance and lands a hard slap to your plush skin. "What the fuck did I tell you? Don't ask for anything. Are you that dumb? Didn’t even fuck you yet and you're acting all stupid." you whine. " 'M sorry..."

He drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough. truthfully, you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of saying "I want to fuck you forever." After some time, he starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your chest from the feeling laden with needles, but every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of needing more.

Your tears fall down onto the mattress under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "Shhh. It's okay. Don't act like it's the first time you take my dick raw" he laughs at you, as if asking you to surrender. "There we go... Hah, nice and full, right?" he laughs as he pats your lower belly, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. He moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your pulsing core. The pain soon twists and is replaced with ecstasy right as he alerts the movements of his hips.

He dives down with force, one of his palms trailing up and wrapping itself tightly around your hair, pulling harshly at it. He was destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you, and you were out of breath, barely seeing straight. "That's it, baby" his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, you're too in it to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around his thick shaft. "Shit, baby. That's what I seeded, fuuckㅡ"

"Oh m-my god, Wade..." you manage and he snorts. "What? Can't take it?" he taunts.

You can taste your own tears on your tongue. You shake your head violently as he gets faster with his moves. "Gonna come nice and deep, yeah?" followed by a trail of shameful 'yes, yes, yes'. Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your hair slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. the room spins around you, body floating, ready to plummet back down at any second.

"Come." Wade demands, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, Wade!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you ruthlessly. He buries himself deep into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass a few times, maybe trying to keep you awake, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your velvet walls in white ropes. "Holy shit." He laughs through soft moans as he slips out of you. You fall onto your tummy, clutching your lower tummy from the sudden pain. "I think you bruised my cervix..." you groan and he places a soft kiss on your neck.

"Sorry, hot stuff. Remind me to never come home mad." you let out a small giggle, before turning around to face him, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. "Let's get cleaned?" and he frowns. "Oh, no. You didn't really think we were done, right?"

#deadpool x you #deadpool smut #deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #ryan reynolds x reader #ryan reynolds #ryan reynolds smut

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