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always-just-red · 16 days

Note

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Ok.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Ok but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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klemen-tine · 6 months

Text

Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse

Part 1

Part 2

@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol

+++++++++++++

Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them.

They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career.

Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air.

Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully.

“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed.

“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent.

Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden.

A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast.

The unfairness of it all.

“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans.

“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions.

When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food.

“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.”

“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.”

Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about.

“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’”

“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor.

Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of.

They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness.

It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne.

Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.”

“Just get in the car, Y/N!”

“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!”

“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!”

“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.”

“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.”

Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in.

“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened.

They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family.

“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.”

“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile.

“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?”

“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands.

“How many does this make?”

“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.”

“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips.

Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy.

Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother.

Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears-

“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other.

Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners?

“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now.

Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.”

“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip.

“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.”

++++

“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal.

Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers.

“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?”

“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.”

‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up.

“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.”

“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.” Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?”

Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her.

True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–

“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?”

Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side.

“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?”

“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat.

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.”

“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly.

Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises.

Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest.

However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something?

‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that.

Would he?

“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?”

Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.”

Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there.

Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them.

Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves.

It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis.

“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question.

“How–”

“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.

“Now Y/N-”

“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions.

“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.”

“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker.

“What parent doesn’t know-”

“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.”

Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing.

“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras.

“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out.

“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?”

“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person.

“Y/N! Look over here!”

“Look!”

“Over here!”

A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.

The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present.

“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection.

“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.”

“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face.

“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.”

“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.”

“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.”

Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.”

“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look.

“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.”

“Others won’t believe that.”

“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.”

“And your’s do?”

“We are family!”

“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly.

Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.”

“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew?

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is!

I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.”

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care.

“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!

“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel.

They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t.

“Bruce finally sees it too.”

Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry–

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?”

– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.”

“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.”

Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–”

“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!

How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away.

“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face.

Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.”

“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep.

Because why not.

“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.”

“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail.

“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.”

Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral.

“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction.

A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be.

If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.

Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids?

Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image.

It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in.

Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here.

“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open.

“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.”

“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore.

They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.”

“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner.

E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room.

Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint.

“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?”

‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.”

“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…”

“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.”

When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions.

Hovering or distancing.

Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it.

“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands.

“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show.

However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too.

“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’

“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you.

However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting.

“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father.

“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.”

“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.”

“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article.

Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.

“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–”

“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen.

Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage

Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.

“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.

“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees.

“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist.

“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along.

“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.” Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?”

Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?

“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.”

+++++

“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers.

“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!”

“Good job Y/N!”

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch.

“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises.

“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on.

Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought.

The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple.

“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We’ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further.

Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face.

In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’

Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.

Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow.

“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more.

“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.”

“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist.

He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #batman x reader #bruce wayne #platonic batman #platonic batfam #yandere imagines #gender neautral reader #batman x gn reader #Yandere batman #batfam x male reader #Batfamily x female reader #Batfamily x gender neutral reader

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sincerelyneo · 6 months

Text

woman | h.rj

“i hope you can see the shape that i’m in while he’s touching your skin”

💿now playing: woman by harry styles

❯ summary: Renjun is selfish - he knows. He knows that he has no right to be jealous of Shotato, your dance partner, but he is. Because even though he broke up with you, you’re still his.

❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader (ft. riize’s shotaro)

❯ genre: exes, smut, angst, idol!au

❯ words: 6.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, jealousy, swearing, arguing, slight angst, smut, dom!renjun, unprotected sex (don't do this!), marking, possessiveness, oral sex (f receiving), praising, mirror sex, hair pulling, creampie, porn with a little bit of plot, use of 'my girl', reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just renjun being jealous and sulky for 6k words.

Fuck Osaki Shotaro.

That’s the only thing going through Renjun’s mind as he sees the younger dancer have his hands all over you in your dance rehearsal.

Renjun knows he has no right to be seething right now - he’s the one that broke up with you - but there’s something about seeing Shotaro in your personal space, tracing his fingers down your torso, and making you smile with every compliment he gives you on your technique that’s really starting to piss him off.

It's not that Renjun has any specific issue with Shotaro himself; any guy in his position would irk him. Still, it’s Shotaro's love for helping others improve their dancing that only adds fuel to Renjun's frustration, especially now that he's volunteered to assist you.

As Renjun feigns busyness on his phone, waiting for his own rehearsal, he seethes behind the glass of the practice room, a visible vein pulsing on his forehead.

“Dude, you’re practically burning holes into Taro’s hoodie,” Chenle chuckles as he walks over, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at Renjun.

“Don’t be so ridiculous, I’m not!” Renjun rolls his eyes and moves his bag to make room for Chenle to sit on the floor beside him.

“Oh yeah?” Chenle teases, “Then what’s with the bursting vein on your forehead?”

“I’ve just been replying to some shitty emails,” he lies, hastily locking his phone and stuffing it into his pocket.

Chenle quirks a brow and gives him a deadpan look, “You had the weather app open.”

Renjun runs a hand through his hair, about to defend himself, but then he hears your laughter and his gaze snaps back to the glass instantly.

Shotaro's hand delicately trails along the curve of your waist, before he pulls you into a graceful twirl. You laugh softly, the sound echoing in the room loud enough for everyone outside to hear. Your movements are fluid and seamless against each other, and it’s starting to make Renjun feel sick.

What dance lesson requires the instructor to twirl and dip the student?

Shotaro's grin is infectious as he spins you around, and you giggle in response. Renjun’s not stupid - he can see the chemistry, the easy camaraderie that exists between the two of you, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

As Renjun's eyes fixate on the scene inside the practice room, he scoffs tonguing the inside of his cheek. Chenle follows his gaze and smiles, an idea popping into his head. He lets out a low whistle. "Damn, they're really going for it, huh?"

Renjun clenches his jaw, trying to tamp down the surge of irritation. "Yeah, well, they're just rehearsing," he mutters dismissively.

“Just rehearsing? We don’t rehearse like that,” Chenle counters, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Renjun looks up at him with a scowl. He doesn’t know what’s worse, what’s going on in front of him or the irritating little man next to him who seemingly loves poking the already angry bear. He can practically feel the amusement radiating off his friend as if he's revelling in his torment. It's infuriating, but Renjun knows he can't let it get to him. Instead, he focuses back on the glass, his jaw clenched tight as he watches Shotaro's infectious grin and your giggles echo through the room.

“Taro’s cool, I’m sure if you asked him to stop dancing with Y/N he would,” Chenle suggests.

But Renjun's got more pride than that. He's just about able to handle the teasing from his friends about his jealousy, and he knows that telling Taro to back off would only add fuel to the fire of ridicule. And he's not sure if he's ready to deal with that.

“I don’t mind Y/N and him dancing together,” he shrugs.

Chenle’s face falls flat, “Huang Renjun don’t lie to me. You’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not!” His voice raises to an audio level that’s louder than he would like, gaining the attention of some of the other members outside the room.

"Hey, man, look I’m sorry, but it's okay to feel jealous. You two dated for a long time,” Chenle pats him on the shoulder gently. “Honestley I’m shocked the two of you even broke up.”

So is Renjun - even though he knows he was the one who initiated it. Honestly, there was no good reason for your breakup now that he thinks about it - now that he sees you with someone else. The reason behind the breakup stemmed from Renjun’s growing anxiety that being an idol would force distance between the two of you. You had assured him it wouldn’t, and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend; still, Renjun figured separation would be the best despite your protests.

He sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude for Chenle's understanding. "I know, it's just..." He trails off. He doesn’t know how to properly articulate what he’s feeling without sounding like a hypocrite.

Still, Chenle nods sympathetically. "Just give yourself some time, Renjun. It'll get easier."

Renjun offers a weak smile in response before turning back to the glass. He doesn’t have his phone in his hand to ‘distract’ him now so he has to watch the scene in front of him, and his heart sinks.

He doesn’t even know how it happened, one minute the two of you are just laughing together, then he turns to talk to Chenle for another and as he turns back to you, Shotaro's hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin with a tender touch. Your eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean into his touch, your bodies inching closer.

He can't tear his eyes away, the sight before him a painful reminder of what once was and what now feels so out of reach. Renjun's fists clench at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggles to contain himself.

It's not just the physical proximity that stings, but the undeniable chemistry between you and Shotaro that Renjun just can't ignore. The way your laughter intertwines with his, the way your eyes lock - it's like a dagger to his heart, reopening wounds he thought had healed.

But just as your lips are about to meet, Renjun's up on his feet and barging through the practice room door without a knock.

"Alright, rehearsal time's over," he announces, his tone clipped and authoritative as he strides into the room.

Shotaro immediately pulls away from you, glancing at Renjun, who responds with a scowl. Despite the tension, Renjun can't help but feel a sense of relief as the two of you separate.

"Hyung, we've still got fifteen minutes—"

"We need to start early today, gotta prep for the comeback and all," he interrupts.

Renjun's gaze shifts to you. You're shaking your head at him, hands on your hips, your midriff exposed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It brings back memories of all the times he's fucked you in this very practice room. Apart from the physical closeness, the fact that Shotaro got to witness you like this - sweaty and out of breath - infuriates him.

“That’s not fair Jun, we booked this room for the full hour, you can’t just barge in like this!” You argue with him, but Renjun can’t even take in anything you’re saying because even after your months apart, you still use that nickname for him.

Shotaro snaps him back to attention, “It’s fine, Y/N, we can reschedule for next week.”

Like hell you will, Renjun thinks.

You narrow your eyes at your ex-boyfriend before scoffing and heading for your dance bag, tossing it on your shoulder and heading to the exit. You make sure to slam your shoulder into his body as you pass him, muttering how much you hate him under your breath.

Shotaro’s about to follow your lead, hoisting his own bag over his shoulder, but Renjun stops him in his tracks.

“Taro, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Shotaro nods, slinging his bag back down but pausing by the door.

Taro 1:25 pm

Sorry Y/N, I won’t be able to help you with your

rehearsals anymore, something’s come up.

There’s just no way. You look down at the text message, confused.

Shotaro loves dancing, he loves teaching people choreography and helping them improve, so you know there’s no possible way he’d cancel your sessions like this with no word of rescheduling. Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize it's Wednesday afternoon - around the time Shotaro usually finishes his dance practices with his group. With a furrowed brow, you decide to head over to the practice rooms to ask him about it.

After all, you liked Taro and his teaching methods.

As you approach the practice rooms, the faint strains of music drift through the hallway, accompanied by a few stops and restarts. Finally, you reach the room where Riize is rehearsing. The door stands slightly ajar, and you pause, opting to linger and peer through the glass instead. Inside, you see them all - sweaty and breathless, a clear sign that they've reached the end of their session.

You're about to knock on the door when you hear Anton's voice from inside. "Taro, are you eating with us today, or are you practising with Y/N again?"

“I’m not helping Y/N out anymore,” he replies and you deflate a little.

“Why? I thought you liked dancing with her.”

Shotaro groans audibly, then passes his water bottle to Eunseok, who starts chuckling.

“What’s funny?” Anton asks.

“Hasn’t he told you?” Eunseok interjects, casting a glance between them, “Taro loves dancing with Y/N, but last week Renjun made it known that he’s not too keen on it.”

Anton’s face channels your own, because what the fuck did that mean?

You look down at the text message again, and now that you look at it, it only has one person written all over it.

You know your ex-boyfriend better than anyone, and just from the way he crashed your practice last week, you could tell that the dance rehearsals with his old group member were getting under his skin. You won’t lie, there’s a part of you that liked the idea of irritating him, riling him up now and then just to be reminded that he still cared. But you’d never think he’d go this far.

“It’s true,” Shotaro confirms, “Last week he told me to hang back after one of our practices, and he asked me to…” he clams up abruptly when he sees you standing in the doorway, arms folded tight across your chest.

“He asked you to what?”

Shotaro doesn’t answer. The laughter between the boys suddenly runs quiet as you all just look at each other.

“Finish that sentence, Taro.”

He groans and runs a hand through his hair, “Y/N, come on, he told me not to say anything—”

“Tell me what he said to you, he doesn’t just get to make demands about me anymore.”

“It wasn’t exactly a demand…” he mumbles, “More of a request.”

You give him a knowing look, “I swear to God if you don’t tell me what you know right now Shotaro, I’ll—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, “I’ll tell you.”

Around half an hour after grilling Shotaro and his group members for the truth, you burst through the practice room of NCT DREAM. The air is hot and humid, and it only channels the fury that’s built up in your muscles since finding out about your ex-boyfriend’s silly little plan. Huang Renjun has officially crossed the line and there’s no way on this Earth you’re going to let him get away with it without a lecture.

The boys all look a mixture of shocked and surprised to see you. And you don’t blame them, the last time you were in a practice with them, you were happy, probably bringing your boyfriend lunch to make sure he’d eaten. But this time you’re angry, so angry you’re body is trembling.

“Huang Renjun!”

He turns around almost instantly, and instead of looking scared about your anger, he fucking smirks with that stupid beautiful smile you hate (love).

“Y/N?” He responds innocently, though there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that tells you he's well aware of the storm about to be unleashed upon him.

As you and Renjun lock eyes, a heavy silence descends upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing. Mark, ever perceptive, notices the tension crackling between you, and like a good leader he senses the need to diffuse the situation.

"Alright, everyone," he interjects, his voice firm yet soothing. "Let's take a break, yeah?"

Because of Mark's intervention, the boys nod in agreement, gathering their belongings and exchanging knowing glances and whispers as they file out of the practice room one by one.

With the others now gone, you waste no time laying into him, “What is the matter with you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs.

You scoff, frustration bubbling up inside you. "Don’t pull that clueless shit with me. He told me what you did!”

His facade cracks ever so slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crosses his features before he quickly masks it with a defiant smirk. "And what exactly do you think I did?"

"Oh, don't play dumb," you snap, advancing towards him with each step. "You told Shotaro to cancel our dance lessons, didn't you?"

Renjun's expression remains infuriatingly neutral, but there's a glint of defiance in his eyes that sets your blood boiling even more. "And if I did?"

The audacity of his response only serves to fuel your rage. "Do you have any idea how selfish and manipulative that is?" You accuse, your voice rising with each word. "You have no right to interfere with my life anymore!"

He doesn’t look at all remorseful as he shrugs, “I’m not interfering in your life, I just figured Shotaro shouldn’t overflow his schedule.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “You’re unbelievable. That’s not your call to make. You’ve never had a problem with Shotaro teaching anybody else to dance until me.”

“That was before Riize debuted, it’s different now Y/N.”

“No, it’s not fair!” You snap, “You’re not being fair.”

“I’m just looking out for Taro…as his senior.”

“No, you’re not, you’re doing this to piss me off!” You groan, “So I’m asking you why?”

Renjun clings to the last shred of his pride, attempting to brush past you to grab his water bottle, hoping to deflect the conversation elsewhere. But you weren't about to let him off that easily. You reach out and grab his hand as he tries to slip past.

Your eyes plead with him, and he cracks under the weight of your gaze.

"What do you want me to say, Y/N?" He finally erupts, his voice rising in frustration. "You want me to admit that I'm fucking jealous, that I can't stand the thought of him with you?"

“What, if you can’t have me no one else can?”

He goes quiet at that and just looks at you, the silence speaks a thousand words and you can’t believe his audacity right now.

With a heavy sigh, you run a hand through your hair, exhaustion creeping in. "You broke up with me," you remind him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Renjun's expression softens for a fleeting moment, a trace of remorse flickering in his eyes before it's replaced. "I know," he admits. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."

You take a step back, his words hitting you harder than you expected. "Caring about me doesn't give you the right to meddle in my life.”

He reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "I messed up, okay? It’s just, I don’t like the way he touches you. I guess…I let my jealousy get the best of me."

"Jealousy?" You repeat. "After everything that's happened between us, you're still jealous?"

Renjun's gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet yours. "I can't help it," he admits, his voice barely audible. "Seeing you with him, it just... it drives me crazy."

You shake your head in disbelief, struggling to process his confession. "You broke up with me, Renjun. You made that choice."

"I know," he repeats, his voice filled with remorse. "And I regret it every day."

You're torn between anger and longing, resentment and yearning. Honestly, ever since he broke up with you there hasn’t been a day where you haven’t missed him. You’ve waited to hear him say those words - that he regrets leaving you - but you’re not about to make it easy for him to just crawl back.

You narrow your eyes at him, a mischievous glint dancing in them as a sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "You know, Shotaro is a great dancer," you say, your tone deliberately casual.

Renjun's jaw clenches at the mention of the name, his gaze flickering with a mix of anger and insecurity.

"It's been interesting to know he's always there for me now that you're not,” you say with a nonchalant shrug, enjoying the way his irritation simmers beneath the surface.

You watch as his hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling with each aggravated breath. His eyes darken with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to back down.

"It's almost as if he's filling a void that you left behind," you continue. "But I suppose that's just the way things go after a breakup, isn't it?"

The taunt hits its mark and Renjun's temper flares. In a sudden burst of rage, he closes the distance between you, his grip tightening on your shoulders as he presses you against the nearby mirror. His gaze turns possessive as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"You really think I'll let him have you like that so easily?” He asks, voice low and dangerous.

You shiver at the intensity of his words, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And what makes you think that’s your call to make?"

A wicked smile tugs at Renjun's lips, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Because deep down, you know you’re still my girl," he asserts. "No matter how much you keep trying to deny it, you know you’re mine."

You scoff, trying to ignore the way his words resonate within you, "You can't just break up with me and then waltz back into my life claiming me as your own, Jun!"

He smiles at the nickname again, and it gives him the confidence boost he needs to know you still want him, still crave him the way he craves you.

"Oh but I can," he counters, his tone unwavering. He brings his finger to your cheek, tracing it along your skin until it rests underneath your chin. "Because no one else can make you feel the way I do. No one else knows you like I do."

His words send a shiver down your spine. All the good times you have with him replay in your mind and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself succumbing to the magnetic pull of his presence, to the familiarity of his touch.

"You’re fucking crazy babe if you think I’ll let some other man have you," he whispers. "Especially him.”

Your eyes narrow, he’s so close now that the two of you are practically sharing the same breath.

“And you’re fucking crazy if you think you have a say in my relationships.”

He remains unfazed at your rebuttal, his gaze unwavering as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours now. "Maybe I am," he concedes smugly. "But deep down, you know you still want me."

Part of you wants to push him away, to resist the pull of him, but another part - the part that still aches for his touch, for his love - finds itself surrendering.

"Renjun," you whisper, voice barely above a breath. "I..."

And before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash against yours in a heated, passionate kiss, his pent-up frustration and desire spilling over into the touch. It's a tumultuous mix of emotions - there’s still so much unresolved between the two of you - but you get lost in the moment. You melt into his embrace, and perhaps, just perhaps, being possessed by Renjun again isn't such a bad thing after all.

As the kiss deepens, your hands tangle themselves into his hair until it’s dishevelled and the lines between love and hate blur. It's a dangerous game you're playing, dancing on the razor's edge between desire and destruction, but right now you couldn't care less about the consequences. You can talk about all that later - after he fucks you.

He pulls back for a breath, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

"God, I've missed you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

"I've missed you too," you gasp out as he starts to nibble on your earlobe.

He moves his hand up higher along your thigh until it reaches the hem of your shorts, and he wastes no time slipping his fingers inside them. “It’s been too long.”

You exhale as you feel his hand brush against the edge of your panties before slipping under them. He runs his hand through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes before finding your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you move your hips instinctively towards him.

"You're so wet already," he murmurs as he starts to rub circles around your clit. “This all for me?”

You arch your back in pleasure, feeling a wave of heat surge through your body. You nod pathetically, not being able to form a coherent sentence because the familiar feeling of Renjun's touch makes you feel dizzy. He smirks at your reaction, then pulls out his hand making you whimper from the loss of friction.

You know you’re fueling his ego with your whining, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed the feeling of his hands before they were being ripped away from you so abruptly.

“You know, you never asked me for dance lessons when we were dating,” he says - almost accusatory - between soft pants as his kisses return to your jaw, trailing down your neck. His hands slowly travel from your legs and past your waist, dancing along your exposed sides until his fingers are fiddling with the straps of your sports bra.

You can’t stand his teasing, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about sex with Renjun, it’s that you play by his rules.

“I know,” you remark, a little breathless.

“And I hated every time he would touch your skin, and how much it would make you laugh and smile,” he growls, gently nipping your neck and soothing the spot with his tongue. “I want all your fucking smiles, Y/N.”

You hold back a whimper as he sucks a small spot just beside your collarbone, a mark you know you’re going to have to cover tomorrow.

“Seems quite selfish, Jun.”

“I guess I am when it comes to you.”

His fingers take off your bra, exposing your naked breasts to him. You gasp at the cool air making your nipples toughen. He looks up at you, his gaze dark and wild and sending a shot of pleasure straight through you. Not once does he break contact as his hands slide down your body, grazing your nipples until you shiver, and travel down until he is back at the hem of your shorts.

His fingers dance along your inner thighs before they trace along the hem of your panties. Your breath hitches as he skims along your clothed clit, not enough to be truly stimulating but enough to make you bite down in anticipation.

He knows you want more, but your impatience is his favourite part.

So he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as he wraps his fingers around your waistband and slowly tugs on your shorts and panties together, pushing them down until they pool at your ankles where you swiftly step out of them.

The smile on his lips can only be described as feral. “So damn pretty,” he mumbles, “And it’s all mine, yeah?”

You smile as you shake your head. “Possessive much?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he smiles. “But don’t pretend that you haven’t missed that about me.”

“Bold of you to think I’ve missed things about you.”

He grins. “Deny it all you want babe, but the fact you’re the one naked right now speaks volumes.”

You blush at the revelation and the fact that he’s fully clothed whilst you’re bare. You turn your head to the side and mumble. “That doesn’t mean I missed you.”

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrow, his finger gently finding the underside of your jaw, tilting it to meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, filled with a level of lust you didn’t even know was possible. “Then maybe I need to show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”

That’s when he finds himself dropping to his knees, his head dipping low enough to kiss up your thighs. You let out a small sigh as his lips latch onto your skin, nipping and sucking in the same way he used to do when he wanted to leave a trail of marks.

Your lip gets trapped between your teeth, and the cold from the mirror behind you lingers on your exposed back. You look down and wish you could see the look in his eyes right now, yearning to see the hungry glint as he’s between your thighs. You can’t help your nails from digging into his shoulders as you relax into his tantalizing kisses.

“Still so fucking responsive to me, aren’t you?” His words fan over your heated skin, his breath so close to your clit you can’t take much more.

“Don’t tease me, Junnie,” you breathe out.

He laughs softly before pressing a gentle kiss against your clit, his tongue darting out to follow his lips. He can’t help but grin when he feels your nails digging deeper into his skin. His hands move to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh and basking in your moans.

He loved it more than anything when his girl was always so vocal, he could get drunk off the sound. Especially when he knows it’s his tongue licking along your soaking cunt and was making you whine like that.

You’re like putty in his hands, breathless and barely able to form coherent sentences as he teases you. And before you can even whine for more, his insatiable need to taste you gets the best of him and one of your legs is being thrown over his shoulder so his face can nuzzle further against your cunt.

“Fuck,” he groans against you, the hum of his words vibrating against your clit. Your knees buckle under the sensation but the tight grip he has on your ass keeps you upright. “Still taste like fucking heaven.”

“Shit,” you moan before throwing your head back.

“Only for me, right?” He mutters, ignoring your whine as he pulls himself away from your cunt to look up at you before adding a stern, “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes.” You’re so needy right now that you don’t even care that it comes out in pants. “Only you.”

“That’s right, no one gets to taste this cunt but me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re mine, every fucking part of you.”

He savours the way your cheeks burn red as you nod vigorously in agreement. His mouth finds your pussy again, and now that he has your omission, he doesn’t bother holding back. He loves the way your eyes flutter shut, and the shameless moans escaping your lips as he devours you like you're the last thing he’ll ever taste - he’s certain it will be the last pussy he’ll ever taste.

You can barely think as his fingers run up and down your thighs, slowly travelling up until his thumb is pressing slow, torturous circles on your clit as his tongue dives inside you, lapping and rolling. His teasing along with the fast tempo of his tongue makes your hips rock subconsciously against his face.

“Please, please, please.”

The words are a shameless plea, and you can’t help it because he has your legs physically shaking.

“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum on my tongue.”

The simple words of praise are enough for your body to be hit with a strong wave of pleasure. Your muscles tense, your body shakes, and your thighs run wet and slick with a mix of your release and his spit. The room is only filled with pants and you feel a few soft kisses being placed along your thighs.

Seconds later, his face, plastered with a very smug smile, appears in your line of sight. You notice how his lips and chin glisten; you didn’t think it was possible but you grow even more wet at the sight.

“I’ve missed making you cum.”

You can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes you. “I guess I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.”

“You guess?”

“I know,” you correct, “I know I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.” You bite down on your lower lip. “Starting to think I should have more dance lessons with Shotaro to make you jealous more often.”

His eyes instantly darken. “That’s not even funny.”

Your smirk widens, “It is a little bit.”

“You think mentioning another man’s name after I’ve just made you cum with my tongue is funny?” He asks, and his hands find their way to tighten on your waist. “Did I not make you cum hard enough if you’re struggling to remember who you belong to?”

You’re amused by his comment, nail lightly trailing along his lower lip before he playfully nips it. “I don’t belong to you anymore.”

He shakes his head with a tut, “Stop it, you know you belong to me, just as I belong to you. Always have, always will.”

“You must’ve been really intimidated by Shotaro to be this possessive right now,” you tease.

“Doesn’t matter though does it?” He squeezes your waist tighter. “Because Shotaro wouldn’t stand a fucking chance against me. He doesn’t know your body like I do.”

Your breath hitches, hands gripping his shoulders. “He could learn.”

The muscles in his jaw flex and his eyes sharpen, “Not a chance.”

His lips tease along your jaw, and he grins when you move your head to the side to give him better access. “You think he could make you cum like I do? Think he’d know how to make you scream like you do for me?”

The grip he has on your hips is a mixture of pain and pleasure. You feel him smile against your skin when his lips kiss over the developing mark on your collarbone, already starting to turn purple, from earlier.

Then, without warning, he’s flipping you around and pressing you against the cold glass of the mirror. The plush flesh of your tits flatten against it along with your hands, making you gasp. He’s quick to find your ear, nibbling at it before whispering.

“He’d never get the chance to even look at this pussy.”

“Fuck, Jun,” you squirm.

You know you’ve hit a nerve when you see his reflection toying with the drawstring of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers with one hand still on your hip.

It’s clear as day that he wants to claim what was his, and you’re more than happy to let him do so. Because the look of determination bordering on something more territorial sends a thrill through you.

You can see everything in this position, from the way he has you firm in his grip, to the way he’s slowly stripping from his own set of clothes. You watch as he grabs the flesh of your ass and squeezes it. And he can see you too, your flushed-out expression.

“Bet Shotaro doesn’t know you like watching yourself get fucked out, huh?”

You exhale deeply, making his smirk grow as he runs his hands along your skin, slowly venturing to lightly tease along your slit.

“And he’ll never get to know. Isn’t that right?”

Your eyes don’t leave his through the glass, “I don’t know,” you tease, “Maybe you should give me a good enough reason to make sure he never gets to know.”

You watch as he leans closer to you, his back slowly covering yours as he kisses against the nape of your neck. His cock head is teasing your entrance, sliding up and down your cunt tormentingly.

“You know I love a challenge babe.”

He doesn’t even give you a beat to throw a snarky remark back at him because he finally thrust into you, deep and thick and just the perfect fucking fit. Your eyes roll, matched by the guttural moan he lets vibrate beside your ear as you clench around him, listening to the small list of curses he lets slip past his lips.

“Already squeezing around my cock, huh?” He hisses through tight teeth, hands tangling in your hair and giving a sharp tug so your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. I want you to see how much you fucking missed my cock.”

Your eyes are weak and hooded and your skin is flushed. You so desperately want to flutter them closed, but not more than you want to obey his command. So, you open them hazily and Renjun can’t get enough of it - enough of you.

The way you let out cute, little whimpers with every thrust; the way your hands clench into fists against the mirror as he pounds into you from behind, his tempo unforgiving and merciless. The way his hand tangles in your hair to tug you close enough that your back is pressed against his chest. The way your own chest is heaving up and down, hips wiggling against his.

He watches as your fist unclenches and comes to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hide your moans – that won’t do, he thinks.

“Don’t you dare hide those moans from me,” his voice may be breathy but it’s still commanding. The hand not in your hair snakes around your body so he can cup your tit. “I haven’t heard them for months, so don’t hide them from me.”

“And whose fault is that?” You counter, followed by soft whimpers as he squeezes your breasts.

“Stop reminding me.”

He rolls his eyes as his hand travels down the plain of your stomach, until his fingers reach the sensitive nub between your thighs, making you press your lips together.

The pace of his thrusts - deliberately harsh and sharp to entice moans from you - has you biting down on your lower lip.

“Look at yourself baby,” his breath fans over your heated skin. “So fucking pretty. All wrecked out for me.”

Your hair is tangled, wild and messy, and your thighs slick. It’s the hundredth time your body has begun shaken with desperation for his touch and - well - you just look so damn needy.

But who can blame you? Huang Renjun makes you feel things that no other person has. He hits spots so deep inside you, spots you didn’t even know existed. He is just not like anyone else and you love that he was all yours and you were all his.

And just when you think you couldn’t become more of a mess, the muffled words he speaks in your ear as he fucks into you are filthy enough to have you tittering on the edge.

“Junnie!”

Your orgasm comes crashing down. Hot pleasure rushes through your veins and then throughout your whole body. Your hand reaches behind you to cling onto him like a lifeline, nails digging into his skin as he fucks you through his own release. Your head feels fuzzy with the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you along with his moans – especially when he lands one last final sharp thrust inside of your cunt.

He holds your body close to his for a moment, letting the seconds pass as his mouth plants kisses messily against your shoulder. You shudder when you feel him pull out of you slowly, and then you feel his wet sticky cum dripping down your thigh.

He grabs for your panties, which have been disregarded somewhere in the room, and starts to wipe off the cum on your skin. It doesn’t even register in your mind what he’s doing until you properly look at him in the mirror.

You try to pull away from him, but his hand finds your hip and holds you in place. “Renjun! I need to put those back on!”

“Your point?”

You shake your head and look at him through the mirror, “I have rehearsals and my panties are going to be sticky from your cum.”

He smirks smugly, almost excited at the idea of you having rehearsals. He stands back to his feet holding your panties out for you to take.

“Good,” he shrugs, “That way if Shotaro wants to try anything, he knows you already belong to someone.”

You scoff and take the panties from his hand, slipping them past your ass with a roll of your eyes. You both find the rest of your clothes, dressing yourselves quickly. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly aroused at the idea of you wearing panties filled with his cum during a rehearsal.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, you know.”

“I don’t know about that one,” he gives you a shrug, then pulls you closer to him by your hand. “It helped me get to fuck you again didn’t it?”

You snort, “That’s your takeaway from all of this?”

He’s about to say something cocky, you know it, but he’s interrupted by a pounding at the door.

“Are you two done fucking in there so we can get back to our dance practice?!” Haechan shouts and you hear utters from the others telling him to shut up. Renjun groans a series of curses as his friend’s voice starts complaining.

“Give me a second will you?!” He yells back.

“Seriously how long does it take to have makeup sex?”

“Shut it, Haechan!”

You can’t help the laughter and amusement in your expression as Renjun turns from the door to face you.

“Is that what this was? Makeup sex?” You ask.

This time when he pulls your arm into him he wraps his hand around your waist, hovering right before your lips. “You know it was. How many more times do I need to tell you I’ve missed you for you to realize you’ll always be my girl?”

“Hmmm, maybe a couple more times.” You tease, and then your words soon morph into giggles as he nuzzles against your neck, right where he knows you're ticklish.

“Then I fucking miss you. A lot.”

#nct smut #renjun smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #kpop smut #nct dream hard hours #renjun scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines

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lizzieisright · 6 months

Note

omega abs ? 😣

oh my fucking god yes

female alpha!reader x omega!abby

Palestine: what can you do

Summary: Abby is sure she will never meet her dream alpha after what happened with Owen. And then she meets you.

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, descriptions of smut (heats/ruts), Owen is a piece of shit, reader is a sweetheart. Also I'll always make Ellie and Abby friends because their dynamic cracks me up every time.

Notes: this one is genuinely weird in terms of my writing style. It's 6k long for no reason except that I wanted to see how everything will play out and build some kind of omega!abby lore. Also it was meant as a bullet point thingy like hcs, but then it got too long, so the sentences might sound weird.

If you guys want something specific with omega!abby, reqs are open.

Me: *slaps the title of the fic* this bad boy can fit a whole multichapter in it.

/-/-/-/-/-/-

There's one thing Abby knows for certain when she turns 19: she is not a typical omega.

Abby's scent is not too sweet: she smells more like fresh roses than vanilla. All other omegas have more prominent scents, and Abby sees how alphas favour them. She is insecure about her scent, and she is not too prideful to admit she wants alphas to like her. Like any other omega Abby feels pressured by society to look a certain way - and she is already tall, so she starts going to the gym to get fit, to look more attractive, to grow that bubble butt everyone's talking about. She just started university and she wants to be cool.

(Ellie tells her it's all bullshit. Ellie is her biggest supporter and she is the one who growls at other alphas when it's needed. It's hilarious, because Ellie is fucking tiny. "I'm still an alpha, Anderson!" Ellie whines usually and Abby flicks her forehead.)

The gym works: she gets more attractive. Her butt is round, her arms are toned and her shoulders balance her hips, making her waist look thinner. Abby meets Owen and she thinks he is the one. He is the first alpha she spends her heat with. And well, maybe it's not how she imagined it would be, but Abby doesn't complain. After all, perfect alphas only exist in books and movies, not in reality.

(she dreamt about feeling safe and protected with her alpha, feeling loved and taken care of. Owen is all growls and bruises.)

Ellie hates Owen's guts. There's always some sick smell when they're in the same room, and Abby is doing all she can to manage it and make two of the most important alphas in her life like each other. Owen tries to convince Abby that alphas and omegas can't be friends - and it works. Abby stops spending too much time with Ellie, tricked into thinking that Ellie actually has feelings for her. Ellie lets it happen.

(Owen is so much more violent during ruts. Abby knew this too: alphas are ruthless in ruts, but she didn't expect being borderline assaulted. Again, she doesn't complain. She is in love, and Owen knows better.)

Abby keeps going to the gym, and in time her muscles grow and show more. Abby is happy - she put so much work into her body and it shows now! She is so much stronger now, and she doesn't mind that her waist is not so tiny anymore. Abby feels powerful.

Owen, however, gets grumpier with every pound of muscle on Abby's body: he doesn't like it. He doesn't support her when she shows how much progress she made.

Then he starts joking about it. He tells her it makes her look less like omega. That she is almost as big as he is. That people won't be able to tell who is the alpha in their relationship. Abby swallows everything and starts doing more cardio. She wants Owen to be happy. She wants to be his mate one day.

And then one day Abby catches Owen with another omega.

She is small and smells like coconut, she is everything Abby isn't.

Abby wants to die.

Abby calls Ellie for the first time in months, sobbing violently. Ellie picks her up and spends the night soothing Abby, and the next day beating the shit out of Owen. Yes, she is tiny, but alpha strength is alpha strength, and Ellie is furious.

Abby doesn't really recover from this. She thought Owen would be her first and her last, but now her dreams and her self-esteem are in ruins.

Abby blames herself for Owen's cheating. She blames herself for building her body, for not being omegy enough, for having a weak scent, for not being what he wanted.

So Abby grows distant, believing she has no worth as an omega. She avoids alphas, she doesn't recognize when someone's interested. She doesn't let herself smell other people. The only alpha she still talks to is Ellie, because Ellie is Ellie. Her best goblin friend who doesn't even react to her heats, because she is so used to Abby.

(it actually breaks Abby's heart a little: is her scent so weak it doesn't affect alphas at all?)

Her younger brother, Lev, moves to the city for university when Abby is in her graduation year, and Abby puts her energy into taking care of him. She comes to his place from time to time, bringing food or snacks for him. They have movie nights as well. It makes Abby feel less alone. Less useless.

One day Lev asks her to come to the party with him: it's his first time going to a party and he has no idea what to do, especially since there'd be really cool people who are his seniors and he doesn't want to have an egg on his face.

"Can you ask Ellie to come as well? Please? I need more cool people on my side."

Abby laughs and makes sure Ellie is going to come. Ellie adores Lev, so she agrees immediately.

This party is on another level, Abby thinks. It's not frat bros and awful alphas like it was when Abby went to parties with Owen. This party looks like all smart and successful people in the uni decided to get piss drunk, and it is as cool as it is hilarious. Abby knows some of them - she waves at Nora and hugs Manny when he sees her: they're only people Abby kept in contact with after breaking up with Owen. They stopped being friends with him the moment they found out what happened.

Lev is very nervous. He clings to Abby's arm and she laughs kindly.

"Hey, relax. You're supposed to have fun."

"Yeah, I know." Lev says, a little irritated, but it makes Abby and Ellie laugh again.

Ellie takes everything in her hands and comes back with three beers, opening them for Lev and Abby. Abby chuckles at her typical alpha behaviour, but doesn't tease her. They share a drink, and Lev is still nervous, so Ellie takes him to the dance floor and he finally relaxes next to his second favourite person and his first favourite alpha.

Or so Abby thinks.

She watches another person come to them, and by the way Ellie tenses Abby guesses it's an alpha. Abby tenses too: the protectiveness kicks in.

But the alpha smiles and hugs Lev like Abby does: like if this alpha was Lev's older sister. They talk for a bit and then Lev points in Abby's direction. The alpha nods and waves at Abby. She waves back, confused.

And then this alpha makes her way to Abby.

Abby is caught off guard: the alpha is hot. She is also friendly judging by the smile and the way she treated Lev, and Abby can’t decide how to behave around her. She is not bitter after what happened with Owen, but she is definitely out of practice of talking with hot alphas.

You watch Lev's sister's face go through a variety of emotions, and it makes you chuckle - you too would be confused. But you want to meet her and make sure she knows Lev is taken care of: he is under your wing. He is a sweet kid, shy one, and you know how nervous he is about everything, so you want him to have this safety net.

"Hi!" You say cheerfully and give your hand for a handshake. You try not to think of how beautiful Lev's sister is, how much her blue eyes hypnotise you. She is fucking adorable, that what she is.

"Hi?" And her voice is soft too. You blink to clear your mind and tell her your name. You can’t smell her, but you’re pulled to her like a magnet.

"I'm Lev's student guide." Abby nods, not sure if she is okay with an alpha around her baby brother.

"I'm Abby, Lev's sister." You beam at Abby and she feels her stomach flutter. Abby quickly tries to kill the butterflies, but you seem so genuine. She can't smell you when there's so many people around, and maybe it's a good thing.

“Lev gave me your number as an emergency contact, and I just wanted you to know if an unknown number texts you that Lev is puking after doing beer pong, it will be me.” Abby can't help her chuckle: you do sound genuine. Abby feels like you really care about her brother and it makes her feel better.

Lev and Ellie come back and Abby looks at how Lev's face lights up when you smile at him. Oh no. He has a crush on you. It breaks Abby’s heart: she sees how you treat him like a baby brother, and Abby knows Lev has no chance. She also thinks if she looked like this when she met Owen, all star-struck and hopeful. At least you look like a better person.

Abby also feels how tense Ellie is around you. Another alpha thing, but this one is annoying - Ellie’s protectiveness is borderline territorial, so Abby glares at her. Ellie glares back, but some of the tension goes away.

You ruffle Lev’s hair and ask him to enjoy the party and find you if they need anything. Ellie only fully relaxes when you’re lost in the crowd.

“She is the coolest.” Lev tells them and Ellie huffs. “She always helps me around. Saved my ass a few times as well.”

“Well, kid, I don’t want you to get hurt by her, okay?” Ellie says and Lev blushes.

“Don’t worry, Ellie. I know nothing will happen.” Lev smiles. “She likes people on her level. Someone like you, Abby.”

Abby’s heart skips a beat in pain. There's no way an alpha like you would like an omega like her.

Or if there is, then there's something wrong with you and you shouldn't be around her brother.

“She doesn't seem too bad.” Ellie says almost through her teeth; she is as annoyed at her nature as Abby is, but she tries to have a clear head. “But if she hurts you, I'll kill her.”

Abby would laugh, but the image of Owen's bloody face and a broken wrist don't let her. It's a good thing he didn't press charges, too humiliated to admit he got his ass kicked for cheating.

Abby forgets about you until she is getting ready to sleep tonight. She puts her palm under her cheek, blissfully unaware, and takes a breath that is full of your scent. It shakes her, having an alpha scent on her, and Abby can't control herself.

Abby's cheeks burn, her heart picks up speed. Her cunt throbs.

You smell amazing. It has an edge, like any other alpha’s scent, but it's not suffocating. Well no. It is, but it doesn't feel bad, it makes Abby bury her nose in her palm and take a deep sniff. It makes her feel safe.

And Abby is terrified. She can't like your scent. It's dangerous, she can't risk herself like this, it's stupid. Lev has a crush on you, for god's sake! And even if she could, you'd never look her way. You're a good alpha and good alphas like pretty, small, sweet smelling omegas. Not Abby.

She doesn’t know that she also left some of her scent on your palm. She doesn’t know you’ve been smelling it the whole night, addicted to the smell of fresh roses and memory of pretty blue eyes. She doesn't know that you struggle to control your eyes from changing to alpha red the whole time.

You're ready to claw walls after meeting the prettiest omega of your life that you know is sweet and kind and smart: Lev really can't shut up about his sister. It's fucking eating you alive.

And you have no idea when you'll meet her again, but then you remember that both of you are in the same university. So you start trying to figure out her schedule. You know she is a med student, so you take a chance at going to the library.

And you're not wrong: Abby is there, looking miserable as she takes her notes. Your instincts kick in and you try to think of a way to make her feel better, but you get your shit together: it would be creepy.

So you just walk over and ask to sit next to her. Abby is surprised, but she lets you anyway.

It's awkward. You both are trying to not inhale too much, but the scents are respectively addictive: you smell her fresh roses and she smells your spice and safety. You want to bury yourself in her neck and mark her, scent her, make her yours, but you push these thoughts away.

“How's Lev doing?” Abby asks, not being able to concentrate anymore. It's even more embarrassing that you both smell of attraction, but it doesn't really mean anything: it was proven to be an instinct thing, therefore not reliable in human society. It just makes everything awkward for everyone.

“He is excellent, honestly. He got interested in charity work and I think he will soon be cleared to volunteer at animal shelters.”

“Good. Thanks for looking after him. I don't want him to get hurt, you know?” Abby didn't mean to say this, but you catch the meaning of her words anyway. She can smell a faint hurt coming from you, but it's not big enough.

“I'll do whatever I can to make sure he is safe.” You promise Abby and her attraction grows. You blink, but get back into conversation, trying to find more about Abby.

Abby is.. reluctant. She is polite, but her answers are short, and you're not an idiot, you can take a hint, so you apologise for taking her time and go.

Abby watches you go and gets filled with sorrow. You seem so sweet, and it scares her. She can't understand what is your angle and why are you bothered with her. She is sad because she wants you to be bothered with her. She wants you to like her; but Abby's brain doesn't even entertain the idea of it. Plus, Lev is crushing on you, it would be absolutely unfair of her to like you.

The sour smell of sadness makes Ellie restless when she gets to the library half an hour later for their study session. She looks Abby over and tries to piece together what's wrong.

“Did something happen?”

Abby is also reluctant to tell Ellie, but she does it anyway. Ellie frowns the whole time, not pleased with another alpha upsetting her baby. Abby is quick to defend you and say that it's she who is the problem. Ellie kicks her under the table.

“You are not a problem. It's Owen in your head again! Let go of this asshole. There are better alphas than him, fuck, any decent alpha is better than him. Don't assume shit.” Ellie tells her and Abby nods.

Abby decides to try. Maybe at least she can make a friend. So the next time you see her in the library, she actually smiles at you.

You swallow. Hard. Abby is gorgeous.

So you sit next to her and surprisingly, the conversation flows so much better than the last time. You think she was just super busy back then.

Abby is so fucking oblivious it's not funny. She talks to you like she'd talk to Ellie: she doesn't believe your scent, convinced it's just nature and alphas are like this sometimes, so she is relaxed. You can be friends, she thinks. You're great and smell amazing, so you can be friends.

You're almost salivating the whole time. Abby is cute as fuck, and she is hot as fuck: she takes her hoodie off and stays in a tight crop top, and you ogle at her arms and shoulders. She is incredible.

“I know we've just met, but I can't leave without asking. Would you go on a date with me?”

Abby's scent spikes in surprise, and then anxiety. An awful, sick smell that makes you back off.

“Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.” You tell her, eager to get rid of this stench, to keep Abby calm and safe.

“Are you sure?” Abby asks, not really believing her ears.

“I mean, I really want to get to know you better.” You admit.

“Lev has a crush on you.” Abby blurts and you laugh kindly.

“I know. We talked about it with him. I don't let this stuff slide when it happens.” It makes Abby feel a little easier. “But if you're uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'd love to be your friend as well.”

“...I need to talk to Lev first.” Abby admits, her cheeks feel hot.

“Of course. Let me know then.” You smile sweetly, your scent is so full of attraction it's hard to find an excuse for it, so Abby just ignores it.

She smells excited now and you beam. “You’re so pretty.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, but Abby starts to smell so sweetly and her cheeks are rosy now, you feel on cloud nine.

“Thanks, I guess.” She says, shy, and you nod. You say your goodbyes and leave Abby to study.

Abby thinks she's gone insane. Or you've gone insane. There's no way you actually asked her on a date.

But Abby wants to go so much. She didn't admit it, but she was getting lonely, and then suddenly you came along and made her heart beat faster.

So she gains courage and talks to Lev. He gets sad, but not the sour kind, the faint lavender of regret.

“I told you she would like you.” Lev smiles and Abby hugs him, trying to comfort him. “She is good, I promise.”

“I'm sorry, Lev.”

“Don't be.” Lev chuckles and they spend the evening watching the movie.

Next day you text Abby to find out if everything worked out and she gives you a positive. You grin like an idiot the whole day and plan the date.

You don't get all romantic on your first date, since you feel like Abby might get anxious, so you two just go to a bar and have a game of pool.

It's perfect: you both are competitive, you get to see Abby bend down and you get to flirt a lot after a drink. Abby is wearing high waisted jeans and her bubble butt looks amazing in them. You don't know this, but Abby was desperate to make herself look more like an omega, and even if she couldn't hide her shoulders and biceps, she wanted to compensate for it, showing off her butt.

Abby is oblivious to your hungry eyes when she takes a hit, but you're struggling. Abby is sweet and she smells so fucking good. You're itching to touch her, but you keep yourself in check. So instead you compliment her. A lot.

Abby is flustered: no one ever talked to her like this. No alpha made it clear to her that they found her this attractive. But you keep your mouth running. “Your shirt looks so good on you.” “Sorry, I can't stop staring at your shoulders. They're very nice.”

Abby laughs at this one and feels more comfortable in her own skin. So she opens up. “My ex didn't like that I work out so much.” She chuckles, and you look at her in mock offence. It makes her laugh.

“What a fucking idiot. Only cowards don't appreciate muscle mommies.” You scrunch your nose and Abby laughs harder.

“God, what is this nickname?”

You get flustered and Abby feels all giddy. She didn't expect any alpha to get flustered, especially not because of her. “You know. When girls, especially omegas, build up a lot of muscles? People really dig it.”

“Do you?” Abby asks, coy, and she sees the red flash in your eyes. It makes her press her thighs together.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” You say and there's a hint of an alpha voice. Abby's chest is going to explode.

You don't kiss Abby properly tonight, instead opting to kiss her hand: you like her, and you don't want to rush it. Abby gets flustered and you can't help the spike in your scent that makes Abby's cheeks red.

(No, you don't get off on her scent when you come home.)

(No, Abby doesn't fuck herself on her fingers when she comes home, burying her nose into her palm where she can catch your scent.)

You both take it slow. You kiss her for the first time on your third date and Abby folds in your hands while you purr and knead her sides.

Abby starts spending more time at your place, where you just cuddle and watch something. You start catching her scent all around your apartment, and it's driving you crazy. You want Abby to be yours so desperately, but you make yourself think with your head and not with your dick, so you don't rush.

You're in your class when you get a call from Lev. You don't pick up the first one, but when he calls for the second time, you walk out of the class and take the call.

Lev is crying.

Turns out his heat came during his class and now he is scared of going home on his own. Your instincts kick in and you grab your shit at a lighting speed before storming to Lev. You text Abby while you're running, and then your mind shifts into protective mode.

It's hard being around an omega in heat: it's hard for the both of you. Lev clings to you while you wrap your arm around his shoulders and walk him from campus to his place. You know your eyes are red and you're low-key growling, but you keep comforting Lev.

“It's okay. I'll get you home, and Abby is going to be here, okay? I'll keep you safe, don't worry. You're doing great, just a little more, can you walk a little more for me?”

Your voice soothes Lev and you make it to his place where Abby is already pacing in worry.

She takes a look at you and her breath hitches. Your eyes are red and so hungry, Abby feels horny and sorry for you: she doesn't know how much willpower you need to keep your head straight when there's an omega in distress and in heat.

You both get Lev inside his apartment and you retreat to the kitchen while Abby takes care of Lev. She fusses around, gives him pills and sends him to take a shower. You sit straight, your firsts tight as you watch your girlfriend being all motherly. This mixed with the smell of heat makes you feral. It gets harder to control, especially when Abby stands in front of you, her gorgeous scent in your nose.

“How are you?” She asks, compassionately. And you grit your teeth.

“Can you-” You start with a growl and you smell Abby's arousal. “Fuck. Can you come here?” You pat your lap.

The moment Abby sits down you grab her and bury your nose in her neck, your arms are tight around her back. Abby yelps when you press her closer and her scent spikes with arousal, making you growl.

“I'm not- I'm not going to do anything. I just need a moment.” You growl and Abby swallows. Her arousal tickles your nose and you growl louder, pressing your nose closer to her scent glands.

Abby is so wet in her pants she is afraid she will leak on you, but she can't help it: you're usually so sweet, hiding your nature, and now you're acting so alpha-like, and it does things to her.

“Shit. We can't-” Abby's arousal gets mixed with anxiety and you want to sneeze to get it out of your nose.

“We're not doing anything. Not like this. I just need a redirection.” You take a deep inhale full of Abby's scent and you finally settle down. Your voice returns and you feel like you can control your eyes again. You ease your hold on Abby and the anxiety goes away. “Did I scare you?”

Abby is baffled. It's such a big contrast to how Owen treated her before, she is lost for words. You're worried if you sniffing her scared her while Owen didn't care if he left bruises.

The air gets filled with the smell of fresh bakery - the scent of love and affection - and you almost tremble under Abby in excitement.

“A little. I was worried if you'd stop.”

“I have excellent self-control, baby.” You wink at Abby and she slaps your bicep.

She moves a certain way that makes her pelvis move against yours and you grunt: the scent of Abby's arousal got you half-hard already, and you're kinda sensitive now.

Abby also feels it. She grows red and you giggle, kissing her cheek.

“Lev is going to be out of the shower soon, I should go.”

“Okay.” Abby gets up from her seat on your lap and you pout. “Do you want-” Abby shakes her head. It's a stupid idea.

“Do I want what?”

“Something with my scent?”

You swallow and nod. Abby stands for a second, thinking, and then just takes her shirt off, letting you see her in a bra. You see her small tits covered by her lacy bra and adjust your pants. She is so fucking hot and this is so not the time, but your cock twitches and gets harder with every second while you stare at the most beautiful omega in your life.

“You're a fucking menace.” You growl again and kiss Abby with hunger, the rumbling in your chest resonating in hers. Abby goes pliant and kisses you back.

It takes you two tries to get away from her, but Abby is so delicious it's insane.

You spend the evening in your apartment, getting off on Abby's shirt, fantasising about her going into heat and how you would take care of her and how good you would make her feel.

You're together for a few months now when Abby's heat comes. You can smell it on her the day before, when she is all whiny and tired, sleeping for the bigger part of the movie on top of you. Her usual rose scent is getting stronger.

“Are you close to your heat?” Abby hums in agreement and you swallow, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I can smell it.”

“Oh.” Abby is surprised. She doesn't have a very prominent scent so she didn't expect you to notice. “Oh I didn't think you'd smell it.”

“Your scent is my fucking heaven, of course I would.”

Abby blushes. Deeply. And you feel her press her thighs together. It makes your dick twitch.

“I think it'll start tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to be with you?” You ask innocently and Abby chuckles. “I mean, we haven't done anything yet and I understand if you want to wait and have normal sex first. Well, if you even want to have se-”

Abby cuts you off with a kiss and you relax. “We can try normal sex now.”

And you do. It's slow and sweet and you both laugh when you bump heads and knees and when you have to fumble around for lube since you're messy, but it's perfect.

You're not aggressive, but you still growl and claw at Abby's soft thighs, and it's a perfect balance of care and pure animalistic want, and Abby feels wanted. She kinda wants to see your control break.

And then you dip down between her thighs and Abby yelps and pushes your head away, shy. “You don't have to-”

“I really fucking want to. But if you don't want me to, it's okay. I won't.”

“I've never done it before.” Abby admits, embarrassed. She asked Owen to do it once but he looked weirded out by her ask, so Abby felt ashamed to ask again. You stare at her in shock - a good-natured one - and Abby hides her face.

You slow down and get on her level again, gently moving her hand away. “Hey, it's cool. I didn't mean to belittle you, I just- you're so pretty and so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to go down on you?” Abby looks at you, so deeply touched by your care she feels her eyes water. She smells of love again and you giggle, burying your nose in her neck. “We don't have to do it.”

“I kinda wanna try.” Abby murmurs, smiling, and you beam at her.

“I'll go slow, okay? Tell me what feels good and what's not, yeah?”

That's how Abby ends up being eaten out for the first time. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her and how your fingers curl inside her. She loves how your eyes gradually become alpha red the closer she is to cumming.

She comes down from her high and looks at you, half naked and red-eyed, like a predator you're meant to be, and her cunt throbs.

Abby rides you until you're a grunting mess under her as she massages your tits and clenches around you. You growl, but you don't grab her or hurt her, just let her have fun, and Abby is so fucking happy.

“I can't wait to spend my heat with you.” Abby moans and you cum immediately, filling her up.

This time Abby gets to feel safe and taken care of during her heat as you attend her every whim, every request, from “cum inside me” to “I really want some chocolate ice-cream”. You do everything, and Abby can't be happier. She texts Ellie as much when you're out to get her ice-cream and Ellie just sends vomiting emojis.

Of course then she tells Abby she is happy for her and that she is going to be a best woman at your wedding.

Abby doesn't want to admit, it scares her, but she wants to be your mate one day.

You come back not only with chocolate ice-cream, but with some junk food as well. Abby can't help but to drop to her knees right in the hallway.

You also help Abby recover after the heat, bringing her snacks and letting her nap every chance you can, and Abby knows she is in love with you. She doesn't even need to tell you: she constantly smells of love and lust around you now, but she decides to do it anyway.

You're balls deep in her while she pinches your nipples and nibbles at your scent glands, making you whimper in her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

“I love you.” Abby says sweetly and you shudder on top of her, and Abby feels how your cock twitches when you cum. Abby feels your fangs scraping her scent glands and she cums too, milking you.

“Fuck, baby, shit! I love you too, I love you so fucking much, shit-” You pant and Abby grins.

Abby likes making a mess out of you.

For some insane reason, Abby's excited for your rut. She didn't like spending ruts with Owen, but you're so gentle and patient, Abby is sure she'll be okay.

Your rut comes after a month after Abby's heat. Abby likes how possessive you get in pre-rut, even though you start growling at Ellie, which doesn't end well with Ellie's explosive temper. You get along well any other time, but the constant stare down irritates Ellie to the point when she tells Abby, “go fuck the crazy out of your alpha, she is so fucking annoying. Yeah, you.” Ellie stares at you while you tug Abby closer on your lap, scenting her. “Oh my god, get a fucking room. I know Abby is like, your Jesus or whatever, but it's too much.”

Abby just giggles and enjoys how your growling changes to purring. Abby turns to you and cradles your face. “My alpha.” She murmurs and Ellie groans.

“I fucking hate you guys.”

“Not our fault you fell in love with another alpha, Ellie.” You chuckle.

“Fuck off.” She growls and two if you laugh.

Abby stays at your place and you get to fall asleep with her in your arms.

On the next day you wake up with a heavy head. You're already hard and Abby is right there, soft and sleeping. You think about how her wet hot pussy feels around your cock and your pheromones spike up so high Abby wakes up.

She can tell right away that you're in rut. Your scent is suffocating. It's not soft, safe suffocating scent that Abby likes, it's the one that gets stuck in her nose and makes her cunt clench around nothing. She wants nothing more than to get on her fours and present herself for you - this is how much power you have over her.

“My rut-”

“Yes, I-”

“If you don't want to be here, I think I can hold off for 10 minutes and let you leave.” You growl and it only turns Abby on.

So she does what she wants - she gets on her knees, her cunt right in front of your face, and arches her back.

“Knot me, baby.”

All your restraints break. You're rough and you make Abby take everything: if she is not cumming on your cock, she is cumming on your fingers as you fuck your cum back into her, or she is sitting on your face. Abby struggles to keep up with you, since she is not in heat, but she can't wait to take your knot, and she tells you as much. You growl and fuck her harder, feeling your release building up. Abby is so pretty under you, covered in marks, her tits red from your mouth. She spreads her legs and you pin her thighs by her sides, watching your cock disappear in her pretty little pussy. You finally push your knot into Abby and she whimpers, tries to adjust to your size, but you rub her clit and she clamps on you.

“Mine. My omega. My girl.” You growl loudly while Abby clenches around your knot, thrashing on the bed. It's too much pleasure and she knows you're far from done.

And Abby is right. You make her cum on your knot four other times, and only after she makes you cum again - which means she cums st least three times more - you give her a break. You're still sweet, but now it's possessive sweetness. You don't let her do anything, bathing and feeding her, but she is so exhausted she doesn't even notice.

“I wanna nap.” Abby tells you when she is snuggled against your chest. It's a small break before you would get horny again.

“You should. You did so well.” Abby giggles and nuzzles your neck.

“Don't wait if you get horny again. It would be a nice way to wake up.”

“I fucking love you.”

“You better. You're my alpha. It's a requirement.”

“You call me your alpha again and you're not napping, babe. Go the fuck to sleep.” You kiss her forehead and Abby laughs.

Abby doesn't know if it's luck or destiny, but this time she is sure: you are the one for her.

(and she is right.)

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #omega!abby #written on a knee

370 notes · View notes

cera-writes · 3 months

Note

Omg, I love your blog! 👁️👁️✨ I really love how you write for X-MEN characters. Today, I’m requesting a song fic for either Remy or Kurt. I think they would both fit Too Sweet (By Hozier). I’ve been obsessed with this song ever since it came out. Thank you! ✨

A/N: THANK YOU <333 I too, am obsessed with this song lol Pairing: Gambit x F!Reader Tags: songfic, Hozier, fluff, mutual pining

Too Sweet - A Hozier Song-Fic

The insistent chirping of birds filtered through the blinds, a jarring intrusion into Remy LeBeau's slumber. Ten o'clock. Ten o'clock before Remy would ever say a word and none earlier. Unlike him, you were a symphony of pre-dawn energy. Your voice, a melodic counterpoint to the morning symphony, cut through his haze.

"Remy! Rise and shine, sleepyhead! I've already been out on my mile run this morning before the sun rose."

He peeked from beneath the covers, your silhouette bathed in the golden morning light. Even in your active wear, you possessed an ethereal quality. It couldn't be said I'm an early bird, Remy thought, a wry smile playing on his lips. You were the quintessential early riser, a stark contrast to his nocturnal rhythm.

"Don' you jus' wanna wake up, dark as a lake, cher? Smellin' like a bonfire, lost in a haze?" he mumbled, the words tumbling out unbidden. You paused mid-stretch, concern clouding your bright eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" Your worry was a balm to his soul, a secret he wouldn't readily admit. You cared about him, the man who thrived in the shadows, a stark contrast to your rose colored glasses. You were too sweet for him, a melody in his whiskey-soaked symphony of existence.

"Peachy, cher," he lied with a lazy drawl, forcing himself upright. You were right. The allure of being the thief in the night seemed to pale in comparison to experiencing a sunrise with you. He joined you on the cool floor, his movements stiff compared to your effortless grace.

"You know you don't gotta pretend," he propped up softly, voice laced with amusement. A heat crawled up your neck. He saw through you, your carefully constructed facade. Perhaps, it was this very quality that drew you to him like a moth to a flame.

As the day unfolded, the contrast between you became even more apparent. Your afternoon was spent enveloped in the warm aroma of chocolate and sugar, your hands weaving magic with the ingredients. Remy, however, sharpened his fighting skills with his staff, the rhythmic clang a stark counterpoint to your gentle symphony.

You offered him a hot cup of joe, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I remembered you liked your coffee black. Oh, and I just made cookies. Help yourself to a few."

He chuckled, taking a tentative bite. The sweetness exploded on his tongue, a stark contrast to the life he led. "You're too sweet for de likes of Gambit, cher," he teased, a pull in his chest that wasn't from the charged cards strapped to his thigh.

"What does that make you then?" you countered, a playful comeback escaping your lips. But beneath the surface, Remy saw a flicker – a spark of attraction mirrored in his own gaze.

Later that night, when the moon replaced the sun, casting familiar, cool shadows, he found you on the balcony, gazing at the starlit canvas above. This was his domain, the time he craved.

"Couldn't sleep, cher?" he drawled, leaning against the railing, whiskey in hand as he took a sip from the glass.

You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips. "Just thinking."

He joined you, a comfortable silence settling between them. "Maybe," he started, feeling uncharacteristically hesitant, "maybe we don' have to pretend or play dis lil' game anymore. Maybe we can share de sky for a while."

You turned to him, your eyes twinkling like distant stars. "Maybe we can, Remy."

He leaned closer, the scent of tobacco mingling with the cool night air. In that twilight space between light and dark, he found himself lost in the sweetness of your kiss, a perfect counterpoint to his world of shadows.

#xmen #remy lebeau #x men 97 #gambit #gambit x reader #cera writes #remy lebeau x reader #f!reader

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gam8ligant · 12 days

Text

Isofic, a New Term for Fictionfolk

[PT: Isofic, a New Term for Fictionfolk /End PT]

I've been looking for a way to communicate my belief system for a while now, and I've landed on creating my own term.

[ID: A flag in muted colors. It has an orange stripe on top and a yellow stripe on bottom. The stripes are even and there is a blue rectangle overlayed over the center. The rectangle appears transparent. /End ID]

The contrast of the yellow and orange stripes represent the difference between fiction and reality, while the rectangle represents how fictionfolk fit inside that balance perfectly.

Derived from iso- (equal) and -fic (fiction) (basic I know), "isofic" (eye-so-fick) is a way to describe people and ideas that follow this line of thinking:

Fictionfolk* should be allowed to exist as themselves without being accused of being "anti-recovery," "promoting delusions," or "being unhealthy."

Fictionfolk should be allowed to choose for themselves how they want others to talk about them and how they talk about themselves. It should be considered a natural, or even expected occurrence for fictionfolk to dislike terms such as "kintype" and "kinning" and being reffered to in third person.

The proximity of fictionfolk to their fictionselves should be dictated only by the person. Fictional identities should be believed regardless of how "similar" they are to their fictional/past self, and the only scenario in which someone should be told they are not a character is when they themselves have said so.

This is more of a summary of the three beliefs above, but it covers a lot of bases I cannot: Fictionfolk ARE fictional characters in every sense of the word. Again, it's totally appropriate to view it differently on a personal level, but mostly we are all the people we say we are. We are ourselves the same way Mitsuki Miyawaki is Mitsuki Miyawaki.

All views of fiction by fictionfolk are valid. Examples include media being a biography of your life, jumping out of the media into the real world, ect.

This is where it gets controversial: Fictionfolk deserve to have the most important voice when it comes to discussion of ourselves. I deserve to be listened to when I say someone's headcanon about me is wrong. I am not advocating for all creativity of this manner to be stopped. For example, if someone headcanons that I don't like apples and I say "I actually do," it's totally okay to me if they go "oh cool. I'm still going to pretend you do." Where it becomes an issue is when they decide to say "that's not true because I said so."

Likewise, things like this need to be treated as potentially triggering content. I don't want the enforcement of "if you don't tag your headcanons you're EVIL" or some bullshit like that, I just believe it needs to be recognized that these things can hurt people! For example, if you already have a trigger tagging system, it should be normalized to add the "not fictionfolk safe" tag to that.

This is going to sound highly specific, but all of these principles apply to media as well. If a character is fictionfolk-coded, then they are the character they say they are within the media! Can you tell my fandom is super gross about me? Lol.

*Fictionfolk, for the purposes of this coining, refers to fictional characters regardless of origin. This is different from the actual definition of fictionfolk, which includes fictional species, places, plants, and concepts, and includes experiences such as relating to these things rather than just being them.

There are also some beliefs that are not explicitly related to fictionfolk, but still need to be touched on.

Species dysphoria is real and dangerous, and should be treated with the same level of gravity as gender dysphoria.

Referring to alterhumans improperly should be viewed similarly to how misgendering is viewed in that it needs to be acknowledged that it's deeply disrespectful and due to species dysphoria should not be taken lightly.

Alterhumans may not be systemically oppressed on the basis of being alterhuman by itself, but we are oppressed on an individual level. Additionally, some forms of alterhumanity are systemically oppressed, for example endels, clinical zoanthropes, systems, and more are often subjected to incarceration.

Following the model of queerness as a deviation from the norm rather than specifically meaning "LGBTQ+," alterhumanity is queer.

Alterhumanity should not be censored or gatekept from good faith actors. However, those considered KFF are absolutely not good faith actors.

Any attempt to water down alterhumanity is unwelcome, no matter if it's a TikTok user saying "Therians know they're human" or a Tumblr user "setting healthy limits for alterhumanity."

Everything should always be based on someone's own perception of themself as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else.

I know that's a lot, so feel free to comment if you have any questions!

#fictionkin #fictionfolk #fictionkind #speciesqueer #alterhuman #isofic #liom #liom coining #liom term #alterhuman coining #alterhuman term #otherkin #otherkind #fictive #nonhuman #alterhumanity #otherkinity #alterbeing #otherkin community

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thefallennightmare · 6 months

Text

For You? Never-Matt Dierkes

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x Reader

Warnings: just pure fluff, a smidge of smut talk.

Summary: A cute moment where you try to surprise Matt with something only to find out he's always two steps ahead of you.

Authors Note: Enjoy this little drabble about a dream I had the other night! I really love writing Matt so there will be more in the future, besides the one-shot I've got planned.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @burning-outx @concreteemo @artificialbreezy @klutzy-kay24 @itarisblog @cookiesupplier

I have to tell Matt this.

Pushing my way through the crowds of people, I took the stairs up to the rooftop garden two steps at a time, trying to get to Matt before something else took his attention away. I knew he was busy setting up for the small acoustic show that Bad Omens was putting on tonight but he needed to know what I just found on my phone.

There was a small raccoon sanctuary place a few blocks from here that allowed small group tours. With our off day tomorrow, I knew that he would be all for this idea. It’d been so long since only the two of us went out together, especially while out on the road working.

Once I stepped onto the rooftop, the cool autumn air made me pull Matt’s sweater closer to me as I looked through the busy bodies running around setting up for the show. When my eyes landed on him, I felt my heart jump into my throat at the sight of him.

His typical hat was covering his face as he bent over the sound desk, working on a new softer mix for tonight's show. I could see the muscles strain under his shirt, memories of last night fluttering to my mind knowing that the fabric was hiding the scratches down the entire length of his back.

“Matt,” I snuck underneath his arm to wrap myself around him. “I have to tell you something.”

If it was anyone else interrupting his work, they’d be on the receiving end of a glare and a typical Thotblaster comment but for me, those hard eyes softened as he cupped my cheek.

“Where’d you run off to?” Matt asked after pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I helped Noah set up the merch table downstairs. But I have to tell you something,” I said while gripping the front of his shirt.

“Oh did you see the new design for the Hell I Overcame sweater? I know you love Greek Mythology so I reached out to the guy who drew it,” Matt brushed away a few loose strands of hair from my face.

“No not that,” I chewed my lip. “Well, yes. I do love that design. I already told Noah to keep one to the side for me. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I know you’re busy.”

“For others, yes,” he pressed a kiss to my lips. “For you? Never.”

Wrapping my arms tighter around his waist I deepened our kiss for another long beat before pulling away, breathless. Two years together and Matt still managed to make me breathless with every kiss.

“So you know how we have an off day tomorrow?” I started.

The sounds of everyone setting up for the show faltered beneath us, only Matt and I existed as he stared at me with fondness in his eyes.

“There’s this raccoon sanctuary a few blocks from here. I thought maybe we could make a day of it. Get dinner afterward. Maybe see a movie? I don’t know, I just thought that it would be good for us to take a break away from everyone for a few hours.”

I rambled on when I noticed Matt didn’t say anything, simply stared at me and lifted my chin with a finger to brush his lips over mine again.

“I’m two steps ahead of you, sweetheart,” he muttered against them.

“You planned this already? Why did you let me ramble on then?” I gazed up through my lashes while sneaking my hands underneath his shirt, softly scratching at his warm skin.

Matt shrugged and gently pressed me against the sound desk behind me. “You’re cute when you ramble. The way your mouth moves, your eyes shine with excitement, and the way your teeth bite your bottom lip.”

I could feel his cock twitch underneath his joggers when he pressed his hips against me and knew he was also thinking about last night. It was a quick but quiet fuck in his bunk on the bus since everyone was asleep. His hand was covering my mouth as he fucked me with such fever it made my head spin; my nails against his skin were the only outlet for my screams when I finally came.

“Matt,” I breathed. “There’s people around.”

He hummed into the crook of my neck, breathing me in. “I’ve got a couple of minutes until the show starts. Maybe we can sneak onto the bus again? No one’s there so you can be as loud as you want.”

With a giggle, I patted his chest to give us some space, but not before kissing his jaw.

“Later,” I promised.

Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, Matt pulled me into his chest to show me his laptop.

“Any guess what song I’m working on?”

I shrugged while wrapping an arm around his midsection again. “I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

“Two years together and you still don’t understand my mixes,” Matt tsked while clicking his tongue against his teeth.

I pinched his side. “Sorry, I was preoccupied with being your assistant for the first six months. Your good looks distracted me from paying attention to anything you said.”

“And my charm?” He smiled wide with a wink.

“Sure,” I joked while stepping away from him, knowing I had to head back down to help finish setting up the merch table.

I made it two steps before Matt wrapped his arms around me again, this time my stomach to pull me into his chest.

“Matt,” I giggled when his fingers softly dug into my stomach. “I have to go help finish setting up.”

I felt him shake his head behind me before resting his chin on top of my head.

“Nope, you’re staying here with me. I want to officially show you what I do.”

With a content sigh, I eased into his embrace as he went through everything he did as the front-of-house manager for Bad Omens and all the other varieties of mixes for each song. All the while, I gazed up at him over my shoulder with a fond smile.

The sight of him was breathtaking. He looked so intense as he rambled on about things I didn’t understand with the view of the skyline behind him, the flowers and plants that lined the edge of the rooftop paled in comparison to his eternal glow that always captivated me.

“I love you,” I proclaimed.

Matt paused talking about the kind of equipment he used to cup my cheek, laying a firm and fiery kiss upon my awaiting lips.

“I love you too.”

#matt dierkes #matt dierkes x reader #matt dierkes fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens cult

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stupidlittlespirit · 7 months

Text

Rating: SFW Type: Drabble, Tags: None, no use of pronouns for reader, accidental confessions Word count: 1400 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Reader meets Reigen's mother and learns something new.

You hear her before you see her.

The office door is slightly ajar when you come back from your lunch break, and where you stand on the landing, you can catch the sound of voices from within.

It's not altogether uncommon. Clients come and go throughout the day. It wouldn't be the first time you'd returned to find someone already waiting, but the closer you get to the door, the less and less the conversation inside sounds like one of a customer-provider one.

The unidentified voice is female, slightly husky like they smoke, and it sounds like the owner is scolding the only other person inside the office today: Reigen.

"....Absolutely no reason to keep paying out for this place, Arataka." Says the woman. "It isn't too late to just give up and come home."

You frown. Definitely not a client, then.

Quietly, you nudge the door open and enter the hallway. Whoever it is, Reigen doesn't sound happy to have them here.

"We've talked about this," he's saying, sounding considerably exhausted. "I like my job here. I don't want anything else, you know tha-"

"Don't be ridiculous! You sound just like your father, you know. All caught up in something that you know is going nowhere, but you're too proud to admit it!"

The comment gets under your skin. This unwelcome visitor sounds utterly unbearable, and you decide you ought to make your presence known before things get too heated.

You hang your bag up on the coat rack and round the corner, ready to interrupt whatever the person is about to say next until you catch sight of her.

The stranger is short. She's a plump woman, dressed in a garish long skirt and sweater combo with a shock of bright red hair that's pulled back into a tortoiseshell clip at the back of her head. The woman turns when you clear your throat, as does Reigen, and the look of surprise on both of their faces is almost identical.

The unbearable stranger is his mother. They look so similar, the same face in different flavours, and she bears all the same hallmarks of her son: freckles, soft pale skin, and an unconventially attractive face.

Her dark eyes flick up and down your form, critical and assessing, and behind her, Reigen is pulling a face that suggests he'd rather being ripping his own toenails off with pliers than be in his current predicament.

No one speaks for a moment.

Reigen clears his throat, awkward. "You're back early." He never sounds so disappointed to see you, but right now it seems that he'd much rather you'd run off for the rest of the day than return to him.

"Sorry," you say immediately, looking between them. "I can come back later, it's fi-"

"Oh!" Reigen's mother claps her hands together and an oddly broad smile cracks her face. "Don't be silly, love. I know you anyway, come in!"

She says it like it's her office.

"You... know me?" You ask, frowning a little. You've never met this woman in your life, only heard of her existence in stories.

Reigen rarely speaks of his parents. The subject has only come up once: both of you drunk, alone in his apartment on his birthday, where he had confessed how tumultuous their relationship was. It had been the first time you'd hugged him. The first time he had cried a little in front of you, his face in your neck and your own eyes damp. You think about it a lot.

Bad parents are hardly a new concept to you.

Reigen's mother nods quickly, ignorant to your internal recall of her.

"Of course!" She exclaims, her earlier cool tone replaced with something falsely friendlier. "You're the one on his phone!"

Your eyes flick to Reigen, who suddenly looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. You smile politely, a little confused. "On his....?"

"His wallpaper, whatever you kids call it," she gushes. "I'd recognise you anywhere. All he does is talk about you!"

Reigen chokes on his spit. "Mom, no I-!"

"Be quiet, Arataka," his mother chides dismissively. "Oh, you're so pretty!" She turns her attention back on you, her attitude flip-flopping so violently it almost gives you whiplash. "Has he taken you to dinner yet? He said he would, but you know men, they're just terrible at-"

"Mom!" Reigen snaps, strained and completely humiliated. His face is so red that you briefly wonder if he has any blood in the rest of his body. "Enough, please!"

Reigen's mother rolls her eyes at her son's clear embarrassment. "You shouldn't be so shy. It doesn't get you anywhere, you need to be braver at your age."

You're unable to do much except watch their exchange in vague surprise. All of this is news to you. You're close with Reigen and so fond of him that it's ridiculous, and in spite of the fact that you've spent many a night wondering what it might be like to wake up with him next to you, you never considered that it might be a possibility that he felt the same way.

Reigen covers his face with his hands, peeking out between his played fingers.

"He is brave," you say boldly. Overbearing parents like this are a source of annoyance for you and Reigen's sad face from that night is visible in your mind's eye. You feel an urge to stick up for him. "Very brave."

His mother raises her over-plucked eyebrows at you and Reigen drops his hands, staring at you in surprise.

"And he already asked me to dinner," you tell her, enjoying the way she seems a little flustered at your interruption. "I said yes."

Reigen's mother turns to look at him. "You didn't tell me that."

Reigen swallows and when it's clear that he can't quite conjure an answer, you speak up again.

"He's a big boy," you say, folding your arms across your chest. "He can keep secrets if he wants to."

His mom frowns. She appears to want to say something more on the topic, to needle him further, but rather than try again, she backs off at your slight pressure.

"Well," she says brusquely, smoothing down her sweater. "Good. That's good."

She picks up her purse from his desk and shoulders it, clearly having decided her time for bothering her son has run its course, and spares you another up-and-down glance as she makes her way to the door.

"I don't want to wait another ten years for grandchildren," she says, half to you, half to Reigen. "Although, best to wait until you've got a proper job to have a baby, Arataka, you can't start a family in place like this."

You do very well to keep the look of disbelief from your face. The woman knows how hurtful the comment is and you don't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much it bothers you.

"Make sure you're using condoms for now," she snips, one last smart remark on her way out. That one is directed at you, and though you hear Reigen's strangled sound of mortification, you steamroll over him to prevent him from suffering any more torture.

"We're not," you say, with a horrible, smug smile. If she wants to play mean, you can too. "I like it better without, but thanks for your concern. Anyway, it was nice to meet you."

Reigen's mother looks mildly horrified at your retort. Reigen, on the other hand, is caught somewhere between awe and laughter, and you cross the room to stand beside him. It's a silent dismissal of her.

With a huff, she bids her son farewell and strides out of the office without so much as a glance at you. The door bangs on its hinges and you wait a minute to make sure she's properly gone before you turn to your boss with a smirk.

"I'm your wallpaper?" you ask.

Reigen flounders, cheeks cherry again. "I- Well, no, I just- it's both of us and Mob, it isn't-"

You laugh and roll your eyes, pretending not to notice the way your chest squeezes with affection. "Pick me up at eight, tonight," you say, patting his shoulder and heading towards the staff room.

"What?" Reigen yelps, watching you go.

"For dinner, asshole." You grin, backing up through the door.

Reigen doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day. Neither do you.

#reigen arataka #reigen arataka x reader #reigen x reader #reigen arataka/reader #reigen arataka/yn #reigen arataka x yn #reigen arataka x y/n #reader insert #mp100 #mp100 reigen #mob psycho 100 #mp 100 #reigen fluff #reigen aratakaxreader #he said no pickles!!!!!#my fics

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love-belle · 1 year

Text

sometimes all i think about is you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which everyone knows that they belong together and it seems like they're already a step ahead.

for when you find your humsafar. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - charles' version!!!! im so excited for this!!!! 2-3 more desi!readers coming out soon and then the next part of shoutout to my ex and then a new series for u all!!!! i love u, thank u so much for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 797,628 others

yourusername sometimes all i think about is you

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 799,625 others

charles_leclerc late nights in the middle of june

9,637 comments

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-> charles_leclerc i'll pay you to keep your mouth shut

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-> charles_leclerc ...is this about me eating your brownie again?

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yourusername humsafar 💌 ( lover )

tagged charles_leclerc

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liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 994,528 others

charles_leclerc ma lune ( my moon )

tagged yourusername

13,728 comments

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-> charles_leclerc you're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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-> charles_leclerc ❤️

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb

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izzywantscheesecake · 8 months

Note

leo valdez x female reader!! dating headcanons *blows kiss*

Dating Leo Valdez Headcanons!

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Fem!Reader Fandom: Camp Half-Blood Chronicles/Heroes of Olympus Quick Synopsis: Just some paragraphs headcanons on how you and Leo would meet/what dating him would be like. Tags: Use of Y/N, Fluff, no specific physical description of the reader (other than the fact they're female coded), Comfort

HOW YOU TWO WOULD MEET I imagine Leo to be someone who looks for a person he's able to have a lot of common ground with in a relationship. Of course, he's able to crack jokes (even the not so funny ones) around practically everyone, but there's a difference between small banter and just full on being able to vibe with someone. I think he'd be very attracted to someone interested in the arts, or someone who likes to make their own things as a mean of self expression in general. We all know how Leo is in terms of self confidence - he'd like a person who is unapologetically them, proud of their art and self expression and someone who has enough emotional awareness to give him reassurance in a relationship when they can sense he needs it. You guys would probably first meet at some type of event or workshop, or if you're a camper, probably at the dining pavilion when he sees you and has to do a double take because "who is that cool girl I've never seen before?" he'd muster enough confidence to come up and tell you a corny joke, stumbling on his words, which makes you laugh.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

You looked up from your feet, now practically face to face with this guy you'd never seen before. His clothes were wrecked with dirt and debris, so were his gloves.

He was standing awkwardly, and his hands, clearly shaking, were clenched into tight fists.

"Sure?"

"So um, riddle me this. Why can't you hear a pterodactyl going to the bathroom?"

"Because pterodactyls went extinct 65 million years ago?"

His eyes widened, and a red tint began to become more visible around his face as he scratched his head, messing up his already tangled locks of hair.

"Oh.. That wasn't what I was going to say," He chuckled.

You smiled, suddenly feeling a warm aura coming from this boy.

"Well, what were you going to say?"

"Because, uh.. The P is.. Damn, whatever. My name's Leo. What's yours?"

ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS He was awkward at the start of the relationship, not really knowing what to say or what exactly "being a boyfriend" entails, but once he starts getting comfortable and more confident around you, that's where the fun begins (yes this is a star wars reference) Expect every Spanish nickname to be pulled out of the book. "Mi amor," "Hermosa," "Bonita," "Mi vida," "Corazón," if it exists in the Spanish language, he's most definitely said it. And he won't skip out on variations of your preferred name, or even silly sounding nicknames in public, like: "pookie" and "sugarplum" or some other stupidness. For dates, I believe he'd very much vary between educational and immersive dates and just straight up goofing off. It honestly depends on the season. Late Fall/Winter is for going to museums, workshops, possibly a joint coding class or hanging together in one of your rooms, and Spring/Summer is for exploring the town and having those cute little boardwalk + beach + ferris wheel dates. (I also imagine him to be somewhat clumsy and he WOULD drop ice cream all over the pavement.) As the son of Hephaestus, he is most definitely a human radiator. Definitely had a lot of fever scares just because of his temperature alone. But don't worry, he's fine. And the heat is an extra bonus if you're cuddling. Speaking of cuddling and physical proximity, Leo's love languages are gift-giving and physical touch. It doesn't matter if you guys have been apart for 2 minutes or 2 days, if he hasn't seen you in a little bit, he will greet you with one of those spin around hugs or a kiss on the hand. And for gift giving, he enjoys giving and receiving gifts. He likes to either make you little trinkets, or make/buy your favorite foods. He is a firm believer of giving his lady princess treatment, even on a dollar store budget. Though he wouldn't consider himself much of a photographer, I think he probably enjoys taking lots of pictures of you, both with and without him. It's to savor the moment, and also because he wishes he could've taken more pictures with his mother when she was still alive. He has a photo album of just you, him, and the adventures you two go on. You're not a stranger to pranking by him, by the way. If anything, he probably pranks you the most, out of love. You'll chase him down for a few hours, and he gets a thrill out of it knowing you won't stay mad at him forever. In conclusion, dating Leo can be rocky, calming, and give you a whirlwind of emotions, similar to how being on a floating trireme would feel.

A/N: I'm going to be real I never really paid much attention to Leo in the books, so I'm hoping this is accurate?? my bad if it isnt gang 🙏🏽🙏🏽

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo percy #pjo/hoo #riordanverse #rick riordan #leo valdez #son of hephaestus #leo valdez x reader #leo x reader pjo #percy jackson fanfic #leo valdez fluff #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez x fem reader #izzy loves cheesecake!! 🎀

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diazheartsbuckley · 1 month

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday ✨

So yesterday I pumped out roughly 5k words. “Oh Maya, for any of your existing wips?” You ask.

Ha! I wish 😂

I completed a square on my BTHB card and it wasn’t easy because Eddie gets racially profiled and I tried to do it justice. So let lmk what you think!

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for you today?” Eddie asks, trying to extend an olive branch to the hostile officer who looks him up and down, like he isn’t believing what he’s seeing.

“I don’t remember asking you a goddamn question” The officer says and Eddie’s eyes linger on his silver-plated name tag for a little too long for the officer's liking. Atkins, Eddie notes as he lifts his eyes back up to the officers face, seeing him shifting as Eddie makes eye contact with him.

Eddie clenches his jaw and nods briefly, Atkins almost circling him like a shark around its prey, and Eddie hopes to God that the dim street light doesn’t show what he’s feeling right now. “Look, I’m sorry, man. I was-..." Eddie doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Atkins cuts him off.

“Do you not speak fucking English? Don’t speak unless I ask you a question” Atkins stops in his tracks, tilting his head to inspect the white plastic bag in Eddie’s hand. Eddie can already tell where this is going from the looks on Atkins’ face and he tries his best to keep his cool, biting his tongue to not argue with the officer.

Tagged by

@tizniz and @bidisasterevankinard 💗

Tagging

@watchyourbuck, @daffi-990, @theotherbuckley, @jeeyuns, @princessfbi, @exhuastedpigeon, @actualalligator, @jesuisici33, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @namjroon, @bucksbignaturals, @bucks-daddy-issues, @thewolvesof1998, @weewootruck, @badthingshappenbingo, @epicbuddieficrecs, @eddiestummy, @monsterrae1, @wildlife4life, @pirrusstuff, @elvensorceress @wikiangela @dangerpronebuddie, @kitteneddiediaz, @hippolotamus, @honestlydarkprincess, @inell, @steadfastsaturnsrings, @spotsandsocks @badthingshappenbingo🫶🏻

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on abc #buddie wip #buddie fic #evan buck buckley #edmundo diaz #this one was rough to write #it literally got me so mad #but i felt like sharing #and it got me writing #before anyone comes for me - I do not agree with anything that’s said or done in this fic #tw: verbal abuse #bad things happen bingo

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frenchbreadandeggs · 1 year

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The Other Variant of Her

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

summary: Out of nowhere, Gwen Stacy appeared on your Earth, inviting you to the Spider Society in Nueva York. As you reluctantly took her offer, you were shown the beauty of every spider person around HQ. Meeting the founder of the group, Miguel O’Hara. You never knew him, but it seems that he does.

gn!reader, also a spider person

cw. angst, soon.

After I watched ATSV, saw Miguel, I was like—why not make it more sadder? Also made this while I'm fucking writing a travel log for our project, action paper, and capstone. I SWEAR my obsession on writing fanfictions never ends. Gotta go so I can study for finals and defense this week. This was supposed to be a full fic and not by chapters but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Shit!”

You dodge at a car that was thrown in your way, quickly swinging yourself using your web towards a building to land on. As usual you do your superhero things around Kings, York New, beating up villains and chasing down thieves and criminals. But you sure do that this Doctor Octopus you’re fighting isn’t yours, you felt like it was not the doctor that kept chasing you down.

“Come back here you—!” he somehow glitched, a series of colors switched with his body for a split second before Doc Ock shrieked as the grip of his talons of his mechanical tentacles loosened on the blue brick walls, his body now falling.

Quickly, you shot a web on his chest, shooting another one to hold yourself from sliding towards the end of the building as you tried to pull Doc Ock. When he reached the top of the building, you grabbed him by the collar and dragged him on the concrete floor. Not wanting to risk him to go rampage again and destroy half of the city, you wrapped him up with webs, securing his mechanical tentacles on the wall.

He grunted, still recovering from his unusual glitching. You’re going to ask Doctor Strange about this later.

As you were going to bring Doc Ock to the wizard, a person stood in your way—or more like jumped out of nowhere and blocked your way. They wore a white spider suit with pink and black accents.

“Woah,” startled, you backed up, covering the still recovering Doc Ock, “I didn’t know there’s a comic con today—”

You were stopped by a strange tingling at the back of your head, you have spider senses, but this was different.

“Wha—don’t tell me you’re?”

“Holy—you look so cool!”

“What—”

“I’m Gwen Stacy, you are?” she reached her hand towards you after she took her mask off. Blonde short hair with pink dip-dye, the side of her head was shaved, blue eyes and eyebrow piercing. She seemed harmless even though you are still skeptical, but your guts said she is not a problem—and your gut is always right.

“SpiderSlinger.” you introduced yourself, taking Gwen’s hand and shaking it.

“So,” you started, “This is not a joke alright? Is there any cosplay going on somewhere here?”

She snorted, like what you said made no sense to her.

“No, I’m from another universe—I take care of anomalies like that Doc Ock you have there.” she pointed at your back, you looked back to see Doc Ock glitching.

You were not closed about the multiverse existing as Doctor Strange has already mentioned this to you. Though you did not expect for a person outside your universe to come and visit—let alone take care of a person who is not supposed to be in your world.

You looked at her, tilting your head at the side as you grabbed Doc Ock using your web shooter and slung him on your shoulders, unbothered by his weight. Lifts were helpful for you, “By yourself?”

Not too long you tagged along with Gwen, she has explained to you that she is in an elite group called Spider Society where they keep the multiverse from any threats and prevent it from collapsing. Very ambitious you think, the size of the multiverse was incomparable to your thoughts, knowing it is larger than what some people might think. On your way to HQ Gwen mentioned to you, she received a call from someone who’s named ‘Jessica Drew’. You minded your own business when Gwen started to respond to her watch with hushed words, you might have guessed that they were arguing. Gwen sounded pleading all of a sudden.

“Are you sure I’m allowed to go with you?” you asked her after she ended her call. Gwen nodded at you, her head seems like it is going to fall off her neck if she does not stop.

“Absolutely, I already notified them that you’re coming with me.” she handed you a blue wristband, “Here, to keep you from glitching.”

You took the wristband from her and wore it, “Thanks…?”

You have not experienced the ‘glitching’ she was telling you, so it might’ve been like Doc Ock’s situation earlier. Gwen tapped on her watch before a portal appeared in front of you. Your eyes widened in amazement, multiple neon-orange hexagons stood up from the dark but sparkling void—some looked like singular strands of web stretched across the portal, forming in some kind of path to who Spiderperson knows where.

“You got to do this?” Doc Ock still hanging on your shoulder, you pointed at the portal that was formed by Gwen’s watch.

Gwen laughed, smiling at you, not realizing she was showing her gap teeth, “Yeah, all the time.”

“Sick,” you said, still gaped at the portal, “should I…?” you looked at the Doc Ock on your shoulder then to Gwen.

“Oh, yeah definitely.”

With a lift, you pushed Doc Ock inside the portal, his unconscious body sucked into the portal’s abyss. Gwen then looked at you with a reassuring nod and went into the portal, following Doc Ock. You stared at the portal for a while, the city is fine for now since there were no attacks other than Ock—though you were unsure if this was the right idea.

You bit your lip.

“Fuck it she already announced my arrival, might as well go in now.”

Biting back the hesitation of not going in, you leaped into the portal leaving your worries for your city and jumped into the unknown.

You were thrown on the floor face flat on the smooth pavement, you grunted, muffling ‘I’m fine’ even though you know no one would care less. Surprisingly a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you up to your feet.

“Thanks,” you said, patting the dust off your spider suit. You looked at the scenery around you.

And holy shit you could not believe your eyes at what you are looking at right now. Buildings were everywhere and each building had a bridge attached and led to another building. There were multiple pillars sticking out and attached on each building. That did not amazed you though, it was the massive fucking spiderpeople lounging at the area you are right now.

Not even a hundred were here. It might be thousands of different spider people and you’re one of them. You stared, still in shock at how much spider people are with you here. Taking a hold of Gwen, you gripped both of her shoulders and shook her.

“This is amazing…” you grinned at her, she mirrored yours.

Suddenly, you felt like you were forgetting someone.

Realization hits you, with high alert you asked Gwen, “Where’s Doc Ock?”

“I took care of him,” she placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring look.

“Ok,” you took a relaxed exhale, “Well what you showed me was super amazing—very fucking cool—now I want to join—well if that is fine, it looks like y’all won’t be having understaffing for a long time though.”

“Oh—dang, then you should meet Mi—”

“Ooo who’s the newbie here Gwen?”

A distinct voice captured your attention, looking at your back you saw two spider people walking towards you and Gwen.

Pavitr Prabhakar and Hobie Browe were their names given to you in exchange for your Spider name. They were fun to be with, Hobie and Pavitr's shenanigans immediately started right after they met you. You met other spider people, them greeting you back gave you a tingling feeling inside you—maybe it's the fact that they are cool and decided to notice you.

Not for too long Pav said his goodbyes and went back to his Earth while Hobie tagged along when Gwen is guiding you to this ‘Miguel O’Hara’ person. She told you that he was the founder of Spider Society and may or may not have severe anger issues.

“The guy has FANGS?” you looked at Gwen with disbelief.

“Yup, heard that it paralyzes anyone he bites with it—with venom I suppose—obviously.”

She then turns at you, “Alright, we’ll be entering his office. I just hope he isn’t pissed off.”

“He is alway pissed, what do you mean?” Hobie interjected.

“You guys are scaring me—should I like—give him something so he won’t do…?” you wiggled your fingers, hoping they understand what you mean. Hobie just snorts, Gwen shakes her head and takes a grab of your wrists and pulls you with her.

“No, no need.”

The three of you entered a blue dimmed room. Hobie sat on one of the metal seats, watching the scene slowly unfold in front of him. There was a floating platform just above you and Gwen, both of you stood still. If you squint just a little there are yellow-orange colored monitors, cool, you thought, your world’s technology was below this Nueva York’s tech. There on the platform was a man’s back, broad shoulders and messy hair.

You are a patient person, but the platform was painfully slow.

Finally, the platform reached the floor, he did not turn around or anything but continued working on his devices.

“So this is the spider person you are talking about, Gwen?” he spoke with a husky voice. His attention was still on the screens, dragging his fingers on them as he spoke with Gwen.

“Yeah, they’re from Earth-14215. When I came there, they already took care of the anomaly.”

With a blink he was already in front of you, his body looming over you like a vulture. If you were not intimidated by him, you would admire the structure of his face—everything about him.

His eyes rounded on you, inspecting you like you were prey. There was something bugging you, he felt…something that you could not comprehend.

His intense stare at you made you feel like you needed to remove your mask, so you did. Your hair looked perfectly fine even though you wore a tight mask. Looking at him with a toothy grin, “Hi, nice to meet you.”

At a moment you saw a glimpse of Miguel’s face in shock before turning his back at you. Did you scare him? Or maybe disappoint him? You sure hope not. You watched him walking back to his monitor, he called for someone named Lyla, in which in response a yellow woman appeared in thin air. He spoke to her, though you could not hear them talking.

Not knowing what to do, you turned to Gwen in which she just shrugged—not expecting the lack of emotion from Miguel. You walked towards Hobie and sat next to him, still amazed at him and all of those inconsistent art he has, he did tell you he does not believe in consistency.

You and Hobie started talking to each other, Gwen butting in afterwards. Hobie started talking about the consequence of industrial revolution, him not liking the prime minister—whom you do not know, another consequence about capitalism and it went on and on.

“Hey,” Miguel called, the three of you looking at him at the same time, “No—no the new one.”

You stood up and walked towards him, he tossed you something. You caught it, it looks like a watch of some sorts, similar to Gwen and Hobie and the other spider people have.

“That’s a goober—”

“A gizmo.” Lyla interrupted

“Whatever,” he tries to shoo the AI away from him but Lyla glitches to another place away from him, “that gadget gives you the ability to jump to a different universe. That’s it, I’ll give you instructions for your first mission…Welcome to the club.” he stared at you for a while, a kind of longing feeling from him vibed out you just shrugged it.

“Thanks!...Boss?”

He shook his head, then walked away from you, “Don’t call me that, it’s weird.”

“Huh, alright then. I’ll call you Miguel if that is fine with you.”

He did not respond.

Not bothered by his lack of response, you ran back to Gwen and Hobie, waving the ‘goober’ in your hand. Gwen smiled whilst Hobie greeted you ‘welcome to the spidey club’, it was never really your intention to join but it seems that you got in.

You’ll wait for the first mission Miguel will send you.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderverse #ATSV

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