#SHOW ME WHAT HE DID TO DESERVE THAT FROM YOU

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"This is me trying"

Prologue.

ok yall!! so i'm in a bit of writers block for IBDL and the older AU after tumblr deleted the chpaters I spent days writing. Butttt I did come up with this, reader is still neglected bc she can never be happy, but it's a darker Mafia Au. This also sucks bc it also got deleted but i really wanted to post something and get feeback on this concept. This is the prologue! Hope yall enjoy! Likes, asks, reblogs, and comments make my day and encourage me to write more. Send in aks!!

TW: BRIEF SA, IF IT TRIGGERS YOU, DONT READ!

The Wayne Manor was a sprawling gothic monstrosity perched on the edge of the Gotham skyline, a dark and looming silhouette against the backdrop of a city that never truly slept. It was a place where secrets festered, where power and control were everything, and where the lives of the people within its walls revolved around wealth, influence, and fear. For the people who lived in it, this was home. For you? It was a prison.The Wayne family was Gotham's most powerful mafia family, maybe even in all of North America, an empire built on crime, manipulation, and ruthless control. At the top of it all was Bruce Wayne, the cold and calculating godfather. Your actual father. Beneath him, each of his children had their role to play. But you, his biological daughter, were no more than a ghost within the house. You were a byproduct of a two-night stand with a whore, as your family called her, that had long since faded into shadows, and your presence was barely tolerated by the very people who were supposed to be your family.

At least, that’s how it felt after nearly a decade of living here.

You had arrived at Wayne Manor when you were just seven years old, dragged from the wreckage of your mother’s overdose by a man who was nothing more than a stranger. Bruce Wayne—cold, distant, and unforgiving. A man who ruled over the city with an iron fist and a heart as cold as the marble floors beneath your feet. He wasn’t your father, he never had been. He had simply become the man who was tasked with your care, but that wasn’t much of a care at all. Bruce’s love had always been reserved for the empire he had built, not you. You were merely another complication in his already fractured world. He told you that your mother had left you, that you were his responsibility now, and that you needed to prove you were worthy of the Wayne name. A name that, for the longest time, had been nothing but an empty echo in your mind.

Your mother was your hero, a military hero who realized how fucked up America was and retired. She, like most veterans, got hooked on drugs but that didn't mean she loved you any less. When she died, she took your happiest parts with her.

“Prove you deserve the last name Wayne,” Bruce had said when you were first brought into the manor, his eyes hard, his tone colder than the mansion’s marble floors. He’d looked at you like you were nothing but another part of the vast empire he controlled, a problem to be solved, a name to be earned.

And that’s what you did. You worked. You tried to prove yourself, to be a part of this family—this business. But it didn’t matter. You were invisible to them, a shadow in the background of the Wayne Empire. A ghost that haunted the halls of a mansion that never felt like home.

The moment he had taken you in, he’d told you to keep your head down. "Wayne’s don’t cry. Wayne’s don’t show weakness," he had said, his tone dead and devoid of any warmth. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spoken to you unless it was to reprimand or scold you for something minor. You learned quickly that to Bruce, you didn’t exist.

He was the head of the Wayne Mafia and Wayne enterprise, the mastermind who controlled everything from the shadows. He was feared, respected, and never showed weakness. He wasn't your father. He was your boss, distant, cold, and authoritarian. To him, you were nothing. He barely acknowledged you unless you were needed for some mafia-related task, which was almost never. You were neglected in the deepest way possible, emotionally invisible, yet physically present only when it was required.

You learned early on that any attempt to gain his affection was futile. He was too busy running his empire, and any sign of weakness—like wanting to be close to him—was met with disdain. His affection was reserved for his empire and all his other children.

At 15, you had spent eight years in the mansion without a single ounce of affection from him. You were a tool to him, nothing more. And yet, despite his coldness, you still wanted to earn his approval. You knew it was futile, but there was still something inside you that clung to the hope that one day, maybe, he’d look at you like he did the others. You became top of your class, played volleyball, did cheer, ballet, theatre, became student council president, won every award under the sun hoping he’d notice, that one day he’d show up at your award ceremony and bring your siblings. They’d all be grinning at you proudly, they’d make sure everyone knew you were part of the family, they’d let you sit with them at dinner and let you tell them about your most recent tennis match. But that was always a fantasy.

And maybe that was what broke you the most: knowing that he would never see you as a true part of the family.

Earning the Wayne name felt like a distant dream, like something only the others could ever attain. Bruce made it clear when you arrived at Wayne Manor was that you didn’t belong here yet. His blood ran cold when he looked at you, as though you were a mistake he’d have to clean up. There was no room for kindness, no words of comfort. Just a cold gaze, and then the hollow command to stay out of his way.

As you grew older, the cruelty only deepened, and it wasn’t just Bruce.

When Dick Grayson entered the scene, you were still just a child, struggling to make sense of your place in the mansion. He was everything Bruce wasn’t, charming, always smiling, and the golden boy of the family. The way he spoke to you, with that practiced air of kindness, made your skin crawl.

But the smile he wore to the rest of the world was never the one he gave you. The moment the doors closed behind you two, that smile would disappear, replaced with a smirk that spoke volumes. His jokes about you, his casual jabs, it was like nothing you did would ever be good enough. He was always pushing you, always finding ways to make you feel small.

“You know, if you weren’t so weak, Bruce might actually notice you,” Dick would say as he walked by, his eyes flicking over you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. "But don’t worry. Maybe you’ll prove yourself one day. Maybe.”

His words, though they came with a laugh, always carried the sharp edge of cruelty.

The eldest of the children, the perfect golden boy, the one who could do no wrong in Bruce’s eyes. Dick was no different than the rest. As a leader of a section of the family’s operations, he was a busy man. He had his own goals and ambitions, and when it came to you, he cruel.

To Dick, you were a lost cause, someone who wasn't worth the effort, the butt of the joke. While he didn't mock you as often as Damian or Jason, he certainly didn’t love you, he didn't even like you. He was more likely to ignore you entirely, but if you caught him in a bad mood.........He never tried to be a big brother, and in moments when you needed comfort, he’d either brush you off or simply laugh at you and make you feel worse.

Damian—Bruce’s biological son. Your little brother who seemed to have it all. The heir to the throne, groomed for greatness, your father's love. It wasn’t hard to see the resentment and hatred in his eyes whenever you crossed paths. At 13, Damian was already a lethal force, training under the most dangerous men in the world. But what you hated most about him was that, despite the bitterness, he always seemed to find ways to put you down.

your younger half-brother, was the perfect assassin in training, and he hated you. He hated how you existed in his space, how you took up time and energy that could have been spent on his training. To him, you were a nuisance, a shadow in his way. He didn't care about family bonds or affection. You were just the member of the household that didn’t belong.

Damian's cold demeanor was the product of years of indoctrination into the Wayne family’s brutal world. He was protective of the family, of Bruce’s approval, so any sign of weakness or attachment from you only made him more disgusted. He’d learned to use violence as a way to control people, but when it came to you, he was especially harsh, never lifting a finger to defend you, but constantly mocking, hurting, and ridiculing you, making you feel small and insignificant.

Damian never missed a chance to make cruel remarks about you, as though any attempt at closeness with you would be seen as weakness.

"You're nothing more than a distraction," Damian would sneer as he walked past you, his green eyes glowing with disdain. "Father is wasting time on you. You’ll never be one of us."

His words sliced through you like a blade, and it only made the ache of rejection burn deeper.

Tim was the one who ignored you the most. He had a sharp intellect, a mind for strategy, and an indifference to almost everyone around him, including you. You had tried to talk to him once, hoping for some sort of connection, you were around the same age after all, but he just stared through you as though you weren’t there.

When he did speak, it was never pleasant.

"Could you be quieter for once?" he snapped one evening, his gaze never leaving his laptop screen. "Some of us are trying to work."

It was a pattern, one that left you feeling invisible, like you didn’t even exist in his world. On rare occasions, when he was in a particularly bad mood, he’d throw a cutting remark your way, something meant to remind you that you were just a nuisance in his eyes.

"You think you’re important just because you’re here?" Tim would sneer. "Get over yourself. You’ll never be more than a side character."

The family’s strategist, and tech genius, was the quietest of the bunch. Tim was obsessed with perfection, everything had to be meticulously planned. When it came to you, he was condescending. He believed you were too naïve, too soft for the harsh world they lived in. It was clear that he didn’t consider you part of the family in a meaningful way. To him, you were just another piece in the game, and you were never treated like an equal.

Tim would lecture you about what you should be doing, constantly putting you down in subtle ways that made you question your worth.

Jason was the worst of all, next to Damian of course. Where the others merely ignored you or made snide comments, Jason was outright cruel. He made it clear that he didn’t want you here from the moment you arrived. He’d watch you with a sneer on his face, like you were something he had to tolerate rather than a part of the family.

“Do you ever stop being pathetic?” Jason growled one night, cornering you in the hallway. He was older than you—by eight years—and his presence was always overwhelming, his anger like a shadow that clung to him wherever he went. “You’re nothing but a waste of space. Bruce should’ve left you on the streets where you belong.”

You could never forget that night. The venom in his words, the way he towered over you with that sick, twisted smile that barely concealed the disgust he felt for you—it stayed with you, festering in your mind.

Your older brother, was once a wild and rebellious soul, but after his brutal experience with the Joker, he became even more distant. He had built walls around himself, and those walls excluded you. To him, you were nothing more than a symbol of the dysfunction that ran through the Wayne family. He didn’t care about you, he resented you for simply existing.

Whenever he interacted with you, it was laced with sarcasm and cruelty. He would always mock you in front of the others, tearing down your self-esteem at every opportunity. Your attempts to reach out to him were met with disgust, and sometimes even attacks. If you tried to talk to him about anything personal, he’d brush you off with an eye roll or sarcastic comment.

He was a silent witness to your pain, and he didn't care to acknowledge it.

The girls—Steph, Cass, and Barbara—were no better.

Stephanie would occasionally feign interest in you, only to turn it into a mocking session. "You really think Bruce cares about you?" she’d ask with a smirk. "He just likes having more bodies around to do his bidding. And you? You’re nothing but a backup plan, a mistake."

Cass, though quieter, was no less cruel. She had a way of looking at you as if you were beneath her, like you didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air. Her silence was more suffocating than any words could be.

Barbara, though, was the most calculating. She used her intelligence to manipulate, twisting everything into a game of control. She’d often mock you in front of the others, making it feel like you were a joke.

“Do you really think you’ll ever be anything but Bruce’s charity case?” she asked one day, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You’ll never be one of us. Don’t kid yourself.”

They were mean in every sense of the word, they made fun of your looks, your weight, your height, they gave you insecurities you never would’ve thought of.

Alfred, the Wayne family’s butler, was perhaps the only one who ever showed any genuine care, but even that was limited. Alfred's soft-spoken nature meant he was there for you, but he was more like a caretaker than a father figure. He was more interested in making sure you were fed, safe, and well taken care of, but he never pushed against Bruce or the others to make sure you were emotionally okay. Alfred was loyal to the family and followed Bruce’s commands, no matter how cruel they were.

And then there was Duke.

Duke, the one who never even seemed to acknowledge your existence. He was polite—always saying "hello" when he passed by, but that was the extent of it. He didn’t hate you. He didn’t love you. He just… ignored you. It was almost worse than anything the others did. At least when they made fun of you, you existed to them.

But Duke? He acted as if you weren’t even in the room.

In the end, you were just a shadow in Wayne Manor. There was no love here, no family. Just a constant, searing reminder that you didn’t belong.

You were nothing. You were nobody.

But you’d change that. You had to. You had to prove yourself worthy of the Wayne name. Even if it meant enduring their cruelty.

Because deep down, you knew that in a family built on power and fear, only the strongest survived.

And maybe, just maybe, you could become something more.

At Gotham Academy, you were untouchable.

There was no other way to put it. You were awkward and lonely in middle school but that changed as soon as you hit puberty in high school. Suddenly you were the girl everyone wanted to be or be with. Effortless grace and charm, the kind of girl who seemed to have it all together. You were the captain of the cheer team, the student body president, the girl who could throw a party, lead a project, and still ace every test. The guys chased after you with varying levels of persistence, but none of them knew who you really were. They didn’t know you were a Wayne.

They didn’t know you were just a forgotten child in the massive, shadowed halls of Wayne Manor.

At school, you were alive. Teachers fawned over you, praising your work ethic, your achievements, and your positive attitude. "Your essays are brilliant," Mrs. Summers would say, always raising her eyebrow in surprise when she saw your name at the top of the page. "You never fail to impress, your parents must be proud." You smiled, the words coming easily, just as they always did. The praise felt good, almost like an escape from the emptiness that waited for you when you returned to Wayne Manor.

But the truth was, you were dying for something real, something that made you feel seen at home.

When school let out, you gathered your things, avoiding the usual parade of admirers by slipping through the back doors of the school to your waiting car. Today, there was no stopping the swarm of boys who followed you from class to class. Josh from the football team had been practically suffocating you all day with his relentless compliments, while Lucas, the track star, was constantly finding excuses to "study" with you. Both of them seemed to think your "no" was just another challenge. But despite their attention, you were still the one who didn’t belong.

Because once you left Gotham Academy, once you stepped into Wayne Manor, you were nobody.

Bruce never cared to acknowledge your presence, let alone make you feel like part of the family. He was always wrapped up in his business empire or his “other life,” never bothering to check in on you. The closest thing you had to a father was Alfred, the ever-loyal butler, who was the only one who seemed to care about you. But even his affection was distant, a courtesy reserved for a child who didn’t quite fit.

Damian, Tim, Stephanie, and Duke all attended Gotham Prep, the elite school for Gotham’s privileged. Bruce had never bothered enrolling you there, and you wondered, sometimes, if it was because you weren’t good enough, weren’t worth the effort.

And yet, despite their indifference, you longed to be seen by them. Maybe if you earned their respect, earned Bruce’s approval, they would start noticing you.

But it was always the same: emptiness.

The one place you could truly escape to was Grace's house. Grace was your best friend, your sister in every way that mattered. She was the one who saw the real you, the one who didn’t care about your last name or your family’s wealth. She was the only one who knew you were the unwanted daughter of Gothams most infamous mobster. She accepted you as you were: a girl who was as talented as she was misunderstood.

At Grace’s house, you felt alive. It was a normal, cozy home, filled with laughter and love, the kind of place that had never been offered to you at Wayne Manor. Her parents treated you like their own daughter, and her two older brothers—Isaac and Nathan—had taken to protecting you like you were their little sister. Her youngest brother, James annoyed you as much as he did Grace and somehow, you loved him for it. It was nice being a big sister to someone who was actually normal and didn't try to kill you all the time.

Grace’s oldest brother, Daniel, was another story, he treated you like a sister even though you've had a crush on him since you were 10.

You flirted with him constantly. It wasn’t anything serious, but Daniel had a way of making your heart race in a way that the boys at Gotham Academy never could. He was a older than you, maybe 21, with a confident charm that made him irresistible. Tall, blonde, jacked, he was the perfect All-American boy. You knew he wasn’t ever going to see you as anything more that a little sister but that didn’t stop you from trying. Every time he walked into the room, your heart did a little skip, and you couldn’t help but turn into a blushing mess. Grace teased you endlessly for it. Daniel was your first ever crush and that feeling would never really go away, no matter how much you saw him or how sisterly he treated you.

Most nights, you stayed over at Grace's. It became a regular tradition—weekends spent in her house, sprawled out on her couch for movie marathons, stealing her clothes, gossiping about school, and stealing snacks from her kitchen. You loved it there. You could forget about Wayne Manor, forget about the neglect and the loneliness, and just be a normal teenager. You came over for Thanksgiving, your birthday, and for Christmas they even had a stocking with your name on it.

One night, after a particularly grueling practice, Grace invited you to another sleepover at her house. As usual, you packed a bag with the essentials, pajamas, a change of clothes, and your phone, just in case. You already had most things at her house, you practically lived with her at this point. The moment you arrived, Grace’s dad, Thomas, greeted you with a warm hug, his hearty laugh filling the room. “Here comes trouble!” he said, ruffling your hair in that easy-going way he did every time you showed up.

You felt the pang of longing for a real family, but you pushed it away, embracing the warmth of the moment. You wanted to be part of this family, a normal family.

Grace’s siblings were equally welcoming. Nathan tossed you a snack and winked. “You ready to get your ass kicked at Mario Kart again?” he teased, knowing full well that you were unbeatable.

James groaned "I knew I smelled another loser walk in" You gasped dramatically and put him into a headlock, ruffling his hair till he apologized.

As the night went on, and you all sat around Grace’s kitchen table, laughing and joking, you couldn't shake the feeling that your life at Wayne Manor, and the family that barely looked at you, was a shadow that still loomed over your heart.

But then, as if to prove that life couldn’t just be simple for you, the front door of Grace’s house swung open, and your phone buzzed in your pocket. You glanced at it, your stomach dropping as you saw the name.

Alfred.

You knew what it meant. You couldn't sleep over tonight. Bruce was having people over and you had to be there in case the guests asked about you. Another night where you'd sit at the table in the maids kitchen, listening to your family get along without you. Pretending that Bruce’s absence didn’t eat away at you, didn't make you feel less than. You ignored his message. You didn't want to go home, really the guests never even knew Bruce had a biological daughter, they wouldn't ask about you. This was just Alfred's way of trying to make the family bond with you.

It was always the same. Bruce only ever reached out when he needed you for something, when his empire demanded your presence. But never for the reason you truly needed. Not for affection. Not for love.

You stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the laughter and warmth of Grace’s home. You didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to go back to the place that always made you feel so… alone. But you had to. You had no choice. You already ignored Alfred's text long enough, you missed dinner so you had to get home or else Bruce might actually kill you, if he even noticed you weren't there.

No matter how far you ran, how many awards you won, or how many boys followed you around at school, the question remained: when would you finally be seen by the ones who mattered most?

That night, your prayers were answered, your bravery caught the entire family's attention just when you had gotten okay with their negligence, began to enjoy doing whatever you wanted from the shadows.

The rain was fucking relentless.

It hammered down from the heavens, soaking you to the bone as you walked through the backstreets of Gotham. The kind of rain that made you feel like you were being baptized in cold, dirty water. You pulled the hood of your jacket up, not that it did a damn thing to keep you dry. The city’s grimy streets were slick with water, reflecting the neon lights like a damn funhouse mirror. You kept your head down, trying to ignore the chill creeping through your clothes.

Grace’s house had been a brief escape from the cold, suffocating grip of Wayne Manor. For a few hours, you’d felt like a person again. Like someone who could actually live, instead of just existing as a piece of forgotten furniture in the mansion. But that was before Alfred had texted. Before you saw his name flash across your screen, making your stomach twist in a knot.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, shoving the phone back into your pocket. Not today. Not now. You needed more time before you went back to that suffocating place. But you knew it wasn’t a choice. Bruce would be pissed, and when Bruce Wayne was pissed? Everyone knew about it.

Still, you had to push forward. It was Gotham, after all. A rainstorm in this city could mean anything from a mugging to a full-on shootout. Every step felt heavier as you neared the looming silhouette of Wayne Manor. The mansion stood there like some kind of ancient titan, always watching, always waiting, and never giving a damn about who you were.

The door creaked open, and you slipped inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. Maybe you’d get lucky and Bruce would be too busy with whatever the hell was going on to notice you sneaking in.

Fat chance.

The foyer was dark, and the mansion smelled like dust and expensive wood polish. You should have felt comforted by the familiarity, but instead, all you could feel was that gnawing sense of isolation. The Manor had always felt like a prison to you, and not the kind you could escape with a couple of well-timed sprints or clever words. This was a cage built with stone and glass, and you were stuck inside it.

You started down the hallway, the faint sound of voices growing louder as you passed the dining room.

And then you stopped. Something in the air changed. The hairs on your neck stood up. You were too close to the dining hall, and the moment you looked in through the door, your breath hitched in your chest.

There, at the long grand dining table, sat your family—or, well, what was left of them. Every one of them was slumped forward, tied to their chairs with ropes, blood trickling from their ears, noses, and mouths. The first thing you noticed was that no one was moving. No one was breathing. They all looked... dead.

Bruce. Damian. Jason. Dick. Tim. Cass. Duke. Steph. Barbra, even Alfred was slumped over in the corner where he usually kept watch. All of them.

Your stomach dropped to your feet as you backed away slowly. This was not happening.

“No fucking way,” you breathed out, stepping back, trying to backpedal before anyone heard you. But your mind was already working overtime. Who did this? Why?

The answer came quickly. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. The guests, it had to be them. The rich assholes who had “business” with Bruce. Except now, you were figuring out that the business they were conducting didn’t involve any stock markets or deals. It was murder.

And then the realization hit: whoever these people were, they weren’t here for some petty robbery. They’d been in the house long enough to take down the entire family without a sound.

Fuck.

Your mind went blank. For a second, you thought you were dreaming. But no, this was real. And this was not happening.

You were about to turn on your heel and haul ass out of there, but that’s when you heard it. Footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Two of them, moving fast, and definitely not the quiet kind. The air around you felt thicker. The kind of thick that made your skin crawl.

You darted to the side, taking cover behind a marble pillar. From the sound of it, someone was coming this way. Your heart pounded in your chest as you held your breath, praying to God they didn’t notice you.

You needed to leave. Now. Run. Go.

But just as you turned, desperate to bolt before anyone saw you, you froze.

Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and moving fast.

There was no time to think, you stayed hidden watching them walk around the room. They were wearing crisp black suits, and all three looked like they shopped in the"Big and tall" section. There was no way you could fight off all three, yeah you had some muscle but nothing like Jason or even Tim. Even Bruce would break a sweat facing these guys. They seemed to be checking Bruce's pockets right now, looking for something.

While they were distracted, you took deep breathes, trying to calm down. Who the fuck were these people? How did they manage to trick the infamous Wayne Family? What did they want? How could you get out of this and save your family?

Did you even want to save your family?

You shook the thought away quickly; of course you wanted to save them, they were cruel and horrible but who were you to decide their fate without trying to help them? Who made you judge, jury, and executioner?

Then you saw it, Bruce's emergency button, hidden on the wall. Only noticeable to someone who's wandered these halls for years. You almost fell to your knees in relief as you sneakily crawled over to it and pressed it.

Help was on the way and the intruders didn't know you were here! You smiled feeling pure relief at your quick thinking.

How's that for useless huh Damian? You wanted to taunt him as you looked at his unconsious form. He was so much better this way, they all were. They were silent.

Then, you heard it, the loud blaring of alarms and sirens. "Emergency." "Emergency." Alfred's voice rang through the whole manor and the sirens alerted the men that you were in the dining room.

You groaned, eyes burning with tears, "Who's the fucking dumbass that made the silent alarm LOUD?"

The men came rushing into the dining room yet it seemed to be your lucky-unlucky day. Only one of them had a gun.

Time seemed to slow as he aimed it at Bruce's soon to be lifeless head. You don't know what came over you as you tackled Bruce's unconscious body out of the bullets way.

You regretted it as soon as you did it, your vision went white with pain as the bullet hit you shoulder.

You pushed through the pain and grabbed a butter knife as one of the unarmed men approached you. You punched and ducked but the pain slowed you down. He hit you hard right in the ribs, so you did him one better and gouged his right eye out with your butter knife. Those boxing classes really did do some good, no wonder your mom insisted on them.

More shots rang out and it was out of pure adreneline that you were able to pull almost each and every member of your family under the table. Damian was the only one left and as you stood to pull him down too, you saw the armed man pull the trigger of his gun. He was going to kill your baby brother, he was aiming at the 14 year old's head. No matter how cruel or vicious Damian was, he's still a child, still your little brother.

You couldn't let him die. Maybe that's why you threw your self on top of his body, protecting him from the two bullets aimed at him.

Fuck.

This hurt. No wonder people hated being shot. This hurt more than cheer warm ups, did you think you were bulletproof?

You decided that you would just allow the next person to be shot. The man's footsteps were coming closer and you were getting more light headed from the pain. You turned to Jason's unconscious body and punched him. "Wake up you fucking loser! I can't fight this guy."

Obviously, Jason didn't wake up, why did you even think anyone in this family would ever try and help you?

As you shook him and panicked even more, you noticed something shining in Bruce's pocket. So much for "No weapons at the dinner table."

A sleek black gun, any other day you would've marveled at the custom design on it and focused on the monograming, but right now all that mattered was getting it before you bled out and the man killed you. You crawled and those five steps felt like eternity and when you finally grabbed the gun out of Bruce's armani suit pocket, the scary man was standing above you with a cruel grin.

Your heart dropped as he knelt next to you and stroked your hair, "Hey, pretty." He breathed out as he knelt next to you, his hands wandering around your body and up your skirt. Bile rose to your mouth and your heart dropped. No. This isn't happening. "If I had know Bruce had such a pretty thing, I would've been come here. You're certainly the looker compared to your sisters." He said as he began smelling your hair.

You don't know how it happened, but suddenly he was laying on the floor with blood coming out his throat. You looked between your hand holding the gun and his now lifeless body in horror. The last thing you heard before passing out was a flurry of boots and gunshots and a man that sounded like your father yelling for a doctor. The last thing you saw was a tall boy lifting you up, his eyes as blue as the sky, and you genuinely believed you died and went to heaven.

The room was cold, sterile, a sharp contrast to the emotional storm raging inside you. The pain in your shoulder and stomach was nothing compared to the weight on your chest, the realization that no matter what, you couldn’t escape this life anymore. You had made your choice, whether you liked it or not.

You woke to the soft beeping of machines and the scent of antiseptic in the air, your vision still blurry. It didn’t take long for the footsteps to reach you—slow, deliberate. The door creaked open, and one by one, they walked in.

Dick entered first, his expression calm but unreadable. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and instead of his usual mocking smile, there was something more restrained about him now. The newfound respect he had for you was obvious, but there was a subtle weight behind it. He didn’t say much, just gave you a nod.

“You’re still breathing, that's good,” he said softly, his voice low, a simple acknowledgment. “We all owe you for that. For what you did.” The words weren’t a compliment, they were recognition, quiet and heavy. The respect was there, but so was the unspoken truth: You were one of them now.

You expected to feel happier. You imagined this day so many times before, you prayed for it, so why were you sick to your stomach now that it's happened? Why didn't you want it anymore and why hadn't you realized it till now?

Damian was next, stepping in with his usual, stoic expression. His eyes flicked over you briefly, but there was no anger in his gaze, only a quiet understanding, maybe even admiration, hidden beneath the surface. He didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“Your actions saved all of us,” he said, voice flat. “You’ve earned your place here. Just don’t forget it.” His words weren’t harsh, but there was no room for doubt. You had proved yourself. And that meant something far more permanent than any spoken affirmation could express.

Ungrateful brat. You took a bullet for him and he couldn't even thank you. God, you hated him. You were starting to wish you weren't a good person and let them all die. The inheritance would've been insane.

Jason followed suit, and though his rough edges remained, there was a faint softness in his expression as he looked at you.

“Damn, princess,” he muttered, his eyes scanning you with quiet intensity. “You really pulled through. You did what most of us couldn’t.” His gaze softened for just a moment, and then he leaned against the doorframe. “Didn't realize I had such a badass as a little sister. The knife move, the way you ducked and punched? Sick."

Jason, of all people, was praising you. Treating you like his sister rather than dirt at the bottom of his shoe. The nickname, princess, he once used to ridicule you, was said with a quiet revrance; like he actually thought you were a princess now. You couldn't help but feel good, this was all you wanted all these years. And in that moment, you would get shot again without hesitation if it meant you would get that everyday.

Tim entered next, and though his face was stoic, his eyes betrayed the flicker of respect, maybe even admiration. “We all saw it,” he said, his voice steady, but tinged with something quieter. “What you did… It wasn’t just about surviving. It was about protecting us. You earned the right to stand beside us. We all thank you.”

Well, it's not great but at least someone is appreciative. None of them would've done the same for you.

Cass entered, silent as always, but the look she gave you spoke volumes. She didn’t need to say anything—her eyes, sharp and understanding, told you that she saw your sacrifice, saw what you had done for them. She gave you a slight nod, acknowledging your place among them.

Then Duke and Stephanie stepped in.

Duke’s eyes were calm, but you could see the flicker of something more behind his gaze. The weight of what had happened didn’t escape him. His voice was steady as he spoke.

“You did what we couldn’t,” he said, his tone quiet but unshakable. “You kept us alive. All of us. And that means something. You’ve earned your place in this family.” His eyes softened, just the slightest bit. “Just don’t forget... that this family doesn’t leave anyone behind. Not anymore.”

And then there was Stephanie. Her usual energy was gone, replaced with something more somber. She didn’t crack a joke or make a snide remark. Her eyes scanned you with something like respect, but more than that, a quiet understanding that you’d been forced to prove yourself in ways none of them had ever been asked you to.

“Guess you really are one of us now,” she said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, but it wasn’t lighthearted. It was tired. “I don’t know about you, but I’m glad you’re still here.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pulled herself together quickly. “You’ve got our backs. We’ve got yours.”

Barbra stood next to her in agreement, looking hesitant to say something. She was the only one who noticed how much you resented them even though you were desperate for their love and approval.

What. The. Fuck.

No way this is happening. This is not real. Who knew saving someone's life could have them do a complete 180. Stephanie said she had your back. Duke acknowledged your existence. Jason didn't make you cry. Damian didn't attempt to kill or maim you. It's like the sky turned pink.

Finally, Bruce.

He stepped into the room, his presence overwhelming. The familiar weight of his gaze was on you immediately, but today there was something different—something almost proud in the way he looked at you, as if he finally saw you as more than just a forgotten name in the Wayne family history.

He was quiet for a moment, his hands folded in front of him. And then he spoke, his voice steady, unyielding, but carrying an undertone of something that almost felt like respect. “You did more than survive. You saved our lives. Every single one of us.” His eyes didn’t leave you. “You’re part of this family now. You’ve earned it. You earned the name Wayne.”

The words hit you harder than anything else. Part of the family.

It was like a weight dropping onto your chest—something heavy, something that couldn’t be easily brushed away. There was no turning back. You were one of them now, and that scared you, you hadn’t anticipated that.

Bruce’s eyes softened, just slightly, but his voice remained firm. “From this moment forward, you have a curfew. Midnight. You may have earned your place here, but you’ll follow the rules, just like the rest of us.”

You didn’t say anything. How could you? His words settled into your chest like stone, the finality of them carving out any space for protest. There was no choice in the matter. You were in this life now, whether you wanted to be or not. Midnight was late for a curfew anyway, Grace had to be home by 9.

“We all owe you our lives,” Bruce continued, but there was no gratitude in his tone, only a recognition of the debt. “But that doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the responsibilities we carry. Understand?”

You nodded once, slowly, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to speak, wanted to scream, to tell him that you weren’t sure you could do this, that you didn’t know if you were ready to live this life—the life of a Wayne, the life of this family.

What did a mafia family even do? Did you run around being Bruce's useless henchman, or did you have to go around trying to kill people? Could they be more specific about the pros and cons?

But nothing came out. There was nothing you could say that would change anything now.

Jason gave you a crooked grin,“Guess you’ve got to start following the rules now, huh? Welcome to the real family business.”

Tim’s gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes unreadable. “We’re all in this together,” he said quietly. “Whether you like it or not.”

Damian’s face softened, but only slightly. “I expect you to keep up,” he added, before turning to leave. “No slacking. We all carry our weight in this family.”

Cass’s presence remained, her silent approval almost suffocating in its quiet intensity.

Duke gave you one last nod before he turned, the weight of his gaze a reminder that you couldn’t slip out of this, no matter how much you might want to. He wasn’t angry—just silently resolute in his understanding. “You’re one of us now. That means something.”

And Stephanie? Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, before she gave you a small, tired smile. “We’re with you. All the way.”

Bruce? He gave you one last look, his eyes still holding that rare spark of approval—but it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t warm. It was measured, like a general overseeing a soldier. You were part of the mission now.

“We’ll train,” he said, his voice unwavering. “We’ll teach you everything you need to know. But it’s clear you’ve already proven yourself.”

You lay back against the pillows, the silence that followed hanging heavy in the air.

This is so weird. Why are they all being nice? How do you react to it? How do you interact with them? Is it genuine gratitude for saving their lives or is it a cruel joke to make you feel like you're important.

As they left, one by one, you stayed there, immobilized by the weight of it all. You’d earned your place here. But what did that mean now? What did it mean to be part of this family? You weren’t sure you even wanted it. But it was too late to turn back now.

OK YALL HERES THE PROLOGUE!! LMK WHAT YALL THINK AND HOW I SHOULD/ IF I SHOULD CONTINUE THIS FIC!!! HOPE YALL ENJOYED!! SEND IN ASKS! SORRY IF IT SUCKS LEAVE ME ALONE!!

[svtiddiess]

Nom Nom: The Bonus

Synopsis: Seungcheol has been hitting the gym more frequently lately, all for your sake, though you had no idea. When you fail to notice how much bigger his tiddies have gotten, he’s visibly upset. Determined to make up for it, you decide to give his tiddies the attention and admiration they deserve.

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, series

Rating: mature

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: body worship, tiddie biting, marking, dry humping, hand job, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: The 1k bonus fic is finally here! Thank you again so much for 1k followers! We're ending the series with how we started it, by noming on daddy Cheol's tiddies.

Thank you so much @yuncheoligans for beta reading!

This is part of a series, read the whole series here!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Your eyes light up at the sound of the door clicking open. Seungcheol’s back from the gym. He steps into the living room, drops his gym bag, and heads straight toward you with a teasing grin, pulling you into a tight hug.

"No! You’re sweaty!" you squeal, wriggling out of his grasp.

His arms drop, and he puts on a mock pout. "You don’t love me anymore," he mutters dramatically.

"I do, but I love the non-sweaty, non-stinky version of you even more," you tease with a grin. "Now, go shower."

With an exaggerated huff, he heads to the bathroom, leaving you giggling at his antics.

A little while later, he emerges freshly showered, clad in just a pair of loose basketball shorts, his torso on full display. Your eyes instinctively trail over his figure, and you can’t help but notice how much bigger and more defined his muscles look. All those extra gym sessions are clearly paying off.

"Look at you, Mr. Sexy," you tease, smirking. "Going to the gym more often is really working—you’re looking so big and buff."

Seungcheol blushes slightly but breaks into a giggle before flexing his muscles. "Do you notice any specific changes?" he asks, his tone hopeful.

You tilt your head, a little puzzled. "Uh, your muscles are bigger and more toned?" you offer hesitantly.

"But specifically, which muscle?" he presses, looking hopeful.

"All…of them?" you drawl, still unsure what he’s getting at.

His shoulders slump, and a small frown tugs at his lips. Alarmed, you knit your brows, worried you might have said something wrong.

"Cheollie, what’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?" you ask softly.

"I’ve been working so hard on building my chest muscles just for you, but you didn’t even notice," he mutters, pouting like a scolded puppy.

Your eyes widen in realisation, and an apologetic "Oh" slips from your lips. You quickly get up and cradle his face in your hands.

"I’m so sorry, Cheollie. I didn’t realise," you apologise earnestly.

But Seungcheol only huffs, pulling away to plop down on the couch, arms crossed and his signature pout firmly in place. "I worked really hard just for you," he grumbles.

You follow him to the couch, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your cheek against his. "And it shows, Cheollie. Your tiddies look amazing," you try to reassure him with a playful smile.

"If they’re so amazing, why didn’t you notice until I told you?" he retorts, huffing again.

You open your mouth to respond but falter, no words coming out. Seeing this, Seungcheol whines and gently pushes you away, his pout unwavering.

"Cheollie," you plead, dragging out his name. "It’s because your tiddies were already perfect, so I didn’t notice the difference."

"Liar," he mutters, furrowing his brows and turning away from you.

"It’s true!" you defend, scooting closer to him, but he just moves to the other end of the couch, arms still crossed like a sulking child.

"Cheollie, come on," you coax, but he ignores you, his back turned stubbornly.

Undeterred, you inch closer and pepper soft kisses on his shoulder. "Cheollie," you murmur sweetly, hoping to break through his resolve. Still, he refuses to look at you, keeping up his act of playful defiance.

With a dramatic huff, you get up from the couch and climb onto his lap, carefully squeezing yourself into his space. Despite your efforts, he stubbornly keeps his head turned away, arms crossed and his pout still firmly in place.

"Cheollie, look at me," you purr, gently taking hold of his chin and turning his face toward you. He finally relents, his wide, puppy-like eyes meeting yours, his lips still pressed into an adorable pout.

"I’m sorry I didn’t notice all the hard work you’ve been doing just for me," you murmur, your thumbs softly brushing against his cheeks as you cradle his face. "But I promise I’ll make it up to you now."

His pout wavers, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "How are you going to do that?" he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper.

"By showing you just how much I love your tiddies," you reply with a mischievous smirk, your tone playful yet tender.

Before he can respond, you close the distance between the both of you, pressing your lips to his in a gentle, lingering kiss. His pout melts away almost instantly, replaced by a soft smile as his arms relax and slide around your hips, holding you close.

Smiling against his lips, you begin trailing kisses down his neck, your touch light and affectionate. A breathy giggle escapes him, and the sound makes your heart flutter.

Your hands shift to his chest, giving them a firm squeeze and earning a soft groan from Seungcheol. Squeezing them again, you marvel at how much bigger they've become.

"Cheollie, you worked so hard just for me?" you ask, your voice filled with awe and affection as you gaze at him.

He chuckles softly and nods, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. "All for you, princess."

Your cheeks flush, and a warm glow fills your chest at his words. He puts in so much effort, going to the gym every single day just for you. Your heart swells with love—he really is your Cheollie.

You press another tender kiss to his lips and softly murmur, "I love you," before letting your attention drift to his chest.

You start by peppering his chest with soft kisses; he lets out a soft chuckle and murmurs, "That tickles." You gently sink your teeth into the muscle, eliciting a groan from him. You hum softly against his chest before leaning in to suck on the tender skin, releasing it with a gentle pop.

"So perfect, just for me," you mumble before sucking on another part of his chest.

Seungcheol throws his head back and lets out a soft moan as he savours the mix of pain and pleasure coursing through him, his cheeks flushing at your words. Slowly, you trail your way up to his neck, leaving a path of purple and red marks in your wake.

"My perfect Cheollie," you whisper softly against his neck before peppering it with love bites, making sure the world knows exactly who he belongs to.

Your hands go back to squeezing his plump chest, squeezing them like a stress ball. Taking each nipple into your hand, you start rolling the bud against your fingers, earning a whimper from him.

You can't help but roll your hips against his when you hear the pretty sounds escaping his lips. You giggle when you hear him groan and teasingly grind against him once more.

"Always such a tease," he mutters, his voice strained, making you giggle.

"Can’t help it," you reply with a playful grin.

You lean down and look up at him as you lick a long stripe from the base of his chest up to his neck. Seungcheol can’t help but let out a deep chuckle at your actions. You throw him a wink before taking one of his nipples into your mouth, sucking the sensitive bud. He exhales deeply, his hand slipping to the back of your head as he gently presses you closer against his chest.

You run a teasing hand down his torso, stopping at his crotch. You slip your hand into his shorts without warning, grinning when you find that he's not wearing anything underneath. Wrapping your hand around his dick, you earn a groan from him when you press your thumb against his slit.

His breath hitches when you start stroking him at a teasing pace. Your tongue continues to suck his sensitive bud whilst your hand continues to toy with his shaft. You let go of his nipple with a pop, moving to give the other one equal attention.

Desperate for more, Seungcheol starts to buck his hips into your hand, a soft whimper escaping his lips. You giggle at his helpless state, leaning back to look down at him with a teasing grin.

"What’s wrong, Cheollie?" you ask, smirking playfully.

"Princess," he whines, his voice laced with desperation, "don’t do this."

"Do what?" you reply innocently, slowing your hand movements on purpose, earning a frustrated groan from him.

"Princess," he growls, bucking his hips up in frustration.

Deciding he’s had enough teasing, you pick up the pace of your hand movements; Seungcheol throws his head back and moans, hips matching your pace. Leaning back down, you press a few more marks onto his chest, leaving no part untouched by your claim.

"Shit, I'm close," he groans out.

You lean in close to his ear, your voice soft as you whisper, "Cum for me, Cheollie."

At your words, he comes undone. You bite your lip and watch in awe as Seungcheol comes apart beneath you, jaw slacked and pretty moans escaping his lips. He takes a few moments to catch his breath before grabbing your chin, and pulling you into a messy kiss that leaves you breathless, stealing the air right from your lungs.

Pulling away, both of you gasp for breath, your eyes locking as soft smiles form on your lips. He gently tucks a few stray strands of hair behind your ear before resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice tender.

"I love you more," you whisper back, your words laced with affection.

At that moment, it’s undeniable—Choi Seungcheol is yours, completely and utterly yours, in a way no one else could ever have him.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo

[nottsangel]

TWENTY. thigh riding — blaise zabini

warnings — smut 18+. modern au. gamer!blaise. thigh riding. slight exhibitionism.

kinkmas mlist. more.

“oh, fuck!” blaise yells at his computer, aggressively slapping his desk as the words GAME OVER flash across the screen. feeling left out, you absentmindedly trace circles on his arm, trying to get his attention after hours of boredom as blaise has been busy gaming with his friends.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he questions gently, his attitude shifting in merely a second when his deep brown eyes land on you. noticing your pouty expression, he quickly pulls you onto his lap, holding you close.

“it’s just… you’ve barely been giving me any attention…” you admit coyly, nibbling on your bottom lip and tasting your own cherry lipgloss, unable to meet his gaze. he chuckles in amusement, never able to resist that adorable look you give him.

“baby, i can’t just leave. i’m doing another round with the boys… but you can sit here on my lap, okay?” he winks at you, his hands gripping your hips as your doe-like gaze lock onto his. his friends yell through his headphones for him to hurry up, prompting him to grab the controller again.

as the new round starts, you lazily grind your hips on top of him, trying to catch his attention. his eyes swiftly dart from the screen to you as he bites his lip, though he still tries hard not to get distracted from the intense game he’s playing.

you let out a moan when he suddenly flexes his thigh, the hard muscles pressing against your aching clit making you flutter your eyes shut— completely oblivious to the fact that you moaned a little too loud.

blaise doesn’t stop you, though, a cocky smile spreading across his face as he tries to focus on his game, while you uncontrollably pick up your pace. your hips desperately move on top of him, getting closer and closer to the edge.

“f—feels so good…” you moan softly, but your movements come to an abrupt halt when you hear theo, mattheo and lorenzo screaming through his headphones, causing your cheeks to heat up in embarrassment as your eyes shoot wide open.

“mate, what the fuck was that?”

“did i just hear your girlfriend moaning, blaise?”

“jesus fucking christ, you two are fucking disgusting!”

blaise, however, seems unfazed, the mischievous grin on his face only widening as his darkened eyes lock onto yours, the tent in his pants growing. you furrow your brows, feeling humiliated as the muffled sounds of the other boys’ laughter echo through his headphones.

“blaise! i didn’t know they could hear me!” “well, i did. and you gave them a good show, pretty girl. i think you deserve some attention now, hm?”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[kisssukuna33]

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.

"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"

"yeah I did"

"Did you iron the clothes?"

"Uraume took care of it"

"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommend, Did you take it?"

"Already did"

"What about the snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-

"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"

He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.

It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.

"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"

"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.

"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"

"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"

"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"

"Yeah you always do"

"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"

"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.

As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he did and the opponent he beat. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.

"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."

"if you're watching this I love you baby"

A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.

Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.

"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"

To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.

"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.

Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.

Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.

It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.

Wait..

No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.

But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.

Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.

You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.

"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"

"What's with me? nothing Ryo"

"You're are smiling very creepily woman"

"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"

"Yeah whatever come here, freak"

Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

"Ryo?"

"hmm"

"I love you"

You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I love you too princess, more than anything"

Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33

No grammar checks though sorry :/

[hellsslibrary]

Mean! Rin bullying reader for their bad performance + pet play, reader has a collar on

You are absolutely disgusting. And people like you deserve absolutely nothing. At least until men start getting pregnant (quotes from God knows where day 2).

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : This was FUCKING awesome to write. What can I say... I love my bottoms cunty, you know.

!!Warnings: sub!gn!reader(because 'their'), reader's genitals and gender not specified so you can be anyone, dom!Rin (obvi), pet play, sex toys, blowjob, hair pulling, leash, kind of dacryphilia in your direction idk, humiliation from Rin, orgasm denial about eight unspoken times, foot humping......

"No. Don't you dare."

How many fucking times have you heard that come out of his mouth? How many times have you whined against his thigh when he stopped pressing his foot into where you needed it most? It was getting fucking unbearable every time he did it.

"R-rin... But it wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask with a slightly shaky voice and he just chuckles and grabs your hair, pushing his cock back down your throat, making you gag but obediently start swallowing it.

"It wasn't bad. It was horrible. And you need to learn your lesson about not doing that," Rin breathes out, looking at your pathetic face sucking on his cock and slightly tightens the leash on your neck, making you look up at him.

"Keep going, slut, maybe it'll get your brain back in place and make the rest of the grey matter work."

What the hell is he talking about? This is more likely to make you explode. Not only did he not let you cum, he didn't do it himself. And considering you've been sitting here for clearly more than half an hour, he clearly wants something from you, but what the hell? Besides the pleasure of you choking on tears and his cock, of course.

You carefully grab his hips, and when he doesn't show a negative reaction, you squeeze them, taking his cock all the way into your throat, trying to do it rhythmically, but it was obviously bad. Just disgusting. But you were enthusiastic, so it's forgivable, I guess.

"This isn't even half-baked. What the hell are you doing? Your melted brain doesn't even remember how to suck a dick?" Rin asks, pulling your leash incredibly hard, making you freeze with his cock in your throat, trying your best to breathe through your nose.

And then he pushes you away, making you gasp and look at him with half-open eyes, afraid of what else he might do, but he just raises his eyebrow and sits more comfortably on the edge of the bed.

You look at him confused, but then you look down at your underwear and well... You're just soaking wet. Not surprisingly, but still. Your cheeks flush and you whine as his foot presses there again, running up and down your crotch.

Your lips wrap around his cock again, causing him to gasp and grip the hair on your head. Your tongue slides along the length of it, tasting the salty pre-cum on its receptors. Your cheeks sink almost instinctively, adding to the stimulation, causing your own hips to move faster.

"Keep going. Make me come and I beg you," Itoshi whispers, seeming to take pity on you when he sees how disheveled you are. You sit back on your knees, sighing as his leg settles flat beneath you, allowing you to move as you please, rubbing your arousal against him.

Your hand reaches for his balls, twisting them between your fingers, eliciting a soft moan from Rin's lips. His hips buck, wanting to bury themselves even deeper into your mouth, and his back falls back onto the bed as he feels himself cumming in your mouth...

And you slowly pull away from his cock, realizing that you've been robbed of your orgasm. Again. You swallow some of his cum and spit the rest out, wiping your palm with a napkin and hovering over Rin.

"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand down his cheek, and he slowly opens his eyes, looking at you and nodding after a few seconds, becoming aware of the world around him again.

"Yeah... Let's go shower," Rin replies, taking your collar off, letting it fall onto the bed with a loud thud, and then pushing you back and standing on the floor, looking at your disappointed face. "I'll finish you there, stop sulking."

Your eyes immediately brightened and you followed Rin, who was stroking his still slightly twitching thighs.

"You're acting like a dog," he whispers and rolls his eyes with a small smirk when he hears the fake and very exaggerated barking from you.

If I ever write a fanfic without something stupid, it won't be me, honestly.

[hookedonhuge]

make a story with a lot of bloating and belches please

Here we go! Ended up putting in more effort than planned, haha. Aches and Gains: What the hell… where am I? Who are all these huge men walking around? Oh that’s right, the gym. I was working out wasn’t I? Yeah, my muscles feel really sore, must have been a killer workout. Pushing myself to my absolute limit, what a legend I am.

Who is this? Someone waving. Oh they are worried. Don’t worry, haha, I’m fine. UURRP! I just take this place seriously, that's all. Needed a quick rest. Vision’s still a little blurry but I’m getting there.

Now where was I? Just finished a set or did I finish my whole workout? Yeah I’m so sore I must be done. Especially my abs, they are really tight. I guess it was a core day. BUURRP! Oh that feels much better. I can get up now.

Whoo! I’m starting to feel alive again. Let's check out my pump in the mirror. Bet I’m looking real huge today. This shirt is kinda hard to get off, it’s so tight. Must be a crazy pump. Ah, there we go!

What the?! I’m freakin’ huge but… why have I lost so much definition?! My belly is so damn bloated! That’s okay, just my protein shake kicking in. No problem. Damn, look at the pecs on me though! Jealous of these bad boys, losers? Hahaha! King of the gym today. UUURRRP! I was already big and now I’m even bigger! URP!

I keep belching. Kinda weird but it relieves the pressure in my belly. I just need to get it all out, and find my abs again, haha. BUUUUURRRRRP! What are they all looking at? Goddamn greatness, that’s what. Oh don’t give me that pissy look staff, this place might as well be mine anyway.

I still haven’t relieved all the pressure in my gut. Aaaahhh! It hurts so much. UUURRRP! It’s like I’m inflating. I can’t get it out quick enough. BUUUURRRRP! Yeah, I know everyone, I don’t want to burp this much, okay. Geez. Everyone is on my case today. Oh great, now a staff member is coming up to me. This is unbelievable, I haven’t done anything wrong. Oh… my protein shake. Yeah guess I left it back there. Thanks. URRPP!

That cleared some room for a bit more protein shake. Bottoms up. Tastes so good. I’m so hungry too. Can’t stop myself from chugging it all. UUUUUUURRRRRRRP! That hit the spot. Hope y’all can smell that, it reeks of stale protein, hahaha. Deserve it for being so judgy.

God! I can feel myself getting bigger. Yes! I’m growing so much, so huge. My gut though… I look like I’ve eaten a five-course meal… twice. Aaaaaahhhhh! So much pressure… need to get it out… now! 

BUUUUUUURRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPP!

Looks like I caught someone with that point blank. Looks like they might pass out too. Hey, want another one? UUUURRRRP! Hahahaha! Take this! BUUUUURRRRRP!

WOW! Just caught myself in the reflection and damn! I’m so big, I’m jealous of myself. Look at these huge guns. Boom! This chest keeps getting bigger too. And my back, chef’s kiss. So goddamn wide and perfect! Legs looking thick too! I’m such a beast, let's go! Who cares if I’ve got a big, bloated belly. Bigger is better right. I’d take it any day with these gains. BUUUURRRRAAAAP!

I’m starting to get used to these burps. Feels so nice when I let them out. Like a lion’s roar. So manly. UUUUUUURRRRRRRAAAAAAAP! Is this too disgusting for all of you? Well bad luck. BUUURRRP! I’ve got a lot more coming! BAAAAUUUURRRRP! Let me show you all what a beast like me sounds like…

BWWWWWWOOOOOOUUUUUURRRRRRAAAAAAUUUUUUPPP!

Hahahahaha! This entire gym reeks now! Oh look here, we have a big, strong man coming up to start a fight. I’m the king of this gym, okay bro. Wait, not looking for a fight. Complimenting me? Hell yeah! This big guy gets it. New gym buddy right over here. What’s this? A protein shake. Thanks bro, I actually feel like I need another one.

This is UURRP unbelievable, how BUURRP can a protein OOUURRP taste so damn UURRP good? What has BOOOUUUURRRP he put in this UUURRRP thing? No seriously what is in it? Nevermind. Just a bro helping another bro out by giving him some fuel.

Time to leave. Not sure if this gym can handle me for much longer. This employee at the reception looks pissed, haha. Well I’m gonna tell him what’s on my mind.

BUUUURRRRP-OOOOUUUURRRRAAAAAP-BWWWWWOOOOOUUUUURRRRRP!

Don’t think I’ll need to pay to get in anymore.

[d1gitalwitness]

Love and Justice in Elementary — "The One That Got Away"

I rewatch this episode from time to time, and it strikes me over and again just how committed it is to non-legal means of justice, which is particularly rare given that Elementary technically operates within the copaganda genre (with some room for outliers here and there).

When Kitty is about to murder Gruner, the man who sexually assaulted and tortured her, Sherlock shows up. Typically within the police procedural, Sherlock would be the Character Who Reminds [X] That Killing Is Wrong and Legal Justice is Right. But Sherlock doesn't do any of that. He tells Kitty that she deserves to know that he has found a way to prosecute Gruner. He tells her that this is an option if she doesn't want to wrestle with what it means to take a life. While following the law is not what Sherlock thinks Kitty should do, it is an option nonetheless. What would be unfair, Sherlock understands, is for Kitty to have no way out but to resort to murder.

Kitty responds, "What does that have to do with me? With what he did to me?"

And she's right, prosecuting Gruner has nothing to do with what he did to her. What the police wants is not what she wants. Kitty's assault was a singular event, and only she can determine what justice should be. It's an oddly refreshing take, given that most procedurals would remind to Kitty to uphold the law (e.g. SVU).

Sherlock replies, "Nothing. Everything. Wish I could tell you. If you decide that killing Gruner will make you feel whole again, I won't stop you. But whatever you decide, you will always be my friend."

I've thought a lot about this scene, and how it places Kitty's decision and Sherlock's love at the center of what justice should be. It also brings to the forefront Sherlock's struggle with addiction — he doesn't have many friends which means that his gesture of love is completely genuine. It's a gesture of unconditional love from a stoic man who finds it difficult to love, to a woman whose experience of love has been destroyed by sexual abuse. It doesn't matter to Sherlock if Kitty kills Gruner because the fact that she is his friend will always come first. In the end, Kitty realises that she is offered something she has wanted for so long but thought she couldn't have. That is, someone loves her so much to the point where she feels, for the first time, that she is able to say it back and mean it. So it is beautiful that the episode ultimately conludes with Kitty saying: "Do you know what I haven't said to anyone in a really long time? I love you. Isn't that the saddest thing?"

While the heart of Elementary will always be Sherlock and Watson's relationship, stories like Kitty also reveal that sobriety requires love at its center, and it requires Sherlock to show up for his friends. He is a self proclaimed misanthrope, but his time with Joan has changed him; instead of embracing being a lone genius, he puts in the work to be worthy of the care and love that he receives in return. It may be corny or whatever, but the series is about true and genuine love, the kind that is so huge that it passes on from one person to another, healing everything in it touches.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I've thought of a good way to characterize duelling styles.

Take Dumbledore and Voldemort. When I think of their style, I think of the movie, The Revenge of the Sith, and the duel between Anakin and Obi-Wan. It's incredibly stylish and intense. Both fighters are the best and it really comes down to who makes the first mistake.

That's how I think of Dumbledore and Voldemort. Their duel in OOTP was the most bombastic and entertaining in the whole series. They were duelling as how you'd expect two wizards of equal skill to duel.

With Harry, I think of the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indy shoots the swordfighter and walks off.

Harry's duelling style is quick, dirty and pragmatic. Sure, it may be boring, but it's damn effective. Why waste time and risk your life with all these fancy spells when a simple disarming charm renders 99% of wizards completely harmless.

Harry's not fighting as a wizard, he's fighting as a survivor.

Harry's definitely the most pragmatic dueller out of these three. And it makes sense. Harry didn't have the luxury of studying dueling and magic at his leisure to enjoy just the magic of it the way Dumbledore and Voldemort did. He doesn't have the arrogance of Dumbledore and Voldemort, so he doesn't have that same need to show off and prove he's the smartest most talented person in the room. Becouse that's what I think it is. The duel in OotP doesn't look like that just because of skill — it's also arrogance, of both combatants.

Both Dumbledore and Voldemort are trying to say: "look at me! I'm so much more talented and skilled than the other guy!" during their duel. The whole thing is a theatrical ego-stroke.

It's why Voldemort gets so miffed when Dumbledore questions his intelligence and magical skill. It's why Dumbledore repeatedly doubts Voldemort's skills aloud and calls him "Tom". Their duel is a game of showing "Look, I'm better", neither of them is trying to simply win, they want to humiliate their opponent and prove themselves superior.

“You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?” called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. “Above such brutality, are you?” “We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom,” Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk toward Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. “Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit —” “There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!” snarled Voldemort. “You are quite wrong,” said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks. Harry felt scared to see him walking along, undefended, shieldless. He wanted to cry out a warning, but his headless guard kept shunting him backward toward the wall, blocking his every attempt to get out from behind it. “Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness —”

(OotP, Ch36)

Harry, on the other hand, is an abused, traumatized boy with ridiculously low self-esteem who's been running on survival mode since he can remember himself. Of course, he'd fight to remain alive. Harry never fights to prove a point or humiliate his opponents like Dumbles or Voldy, he is fighting to survive.

He is always going for incapacitation or disarming — he knows the longer the fight lasts, the lower his survival chances are, so he fights intending to end fights quickly. It's the best way to ensure survival and it's what he does.

He tries to avoid killing when the enemy doesn't deserve it (like Stan Shunpike or Draco in the bathroom, yes, Harry tried not to kill him) but Lupin is wrong in his assessment of Harry's dueling in DH. In fact, Harry is willing to kill when he needs to. When his opponent deserves it and it will save Harry and others, Harry goes for the kill. and he does so instantly.

He doesn't have Voldemort's theatrical need to play with his food:

“We bow to each other, Harry,” said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry. “Come, the niceties must be observed. . . . Dumbledore would like you to show manners. . . . Bow to death, Harry. . . .”

(GoF, Ch34)

Becouse he isn't trying to prove a point. He is trying to survive and playing with your food means the food just might get a chance to get away.

Nor does Harry have Dumbledore's feigned goodness. (Dumbledore is a character who is obsessed with what he considers "good", he wants to be a good, humble person so bad, but he isn't. To the point of completely romanticizing the concept of "goodness" and kind of missing the point sometimes). Dumbledore doesn't kill because of his romanticized, idealized version of goodness which places him "above such brutality" just like Voldy mocks him in DH. So he would never cast a killing curse — even if it is an efficient solution that would save lives at the moment.

Harry has no qualms about using Unforgivables when he feels the situation calls for it. If it's more efficient and helps/saves people Harry cares about, he'd do it. Harry is crazy scrappy when fighting. I talked about it here, but Harry uses his body a lot when dueling. He tackles Death Eaters with his hands, he elbows them in the face, he uses plenty of muggle brawling when dueling because it works. Harry does whatever he needs to do to survive, it doesn't even matter to him if he wins or not — what matters is survival. This is why he is so practical when it comes to dueling, why he fights the way he does, and why he is willing to cast Unforgivables. He would always choose the path to survival and to save as many people as he can, even if that path is running away (which he often considers in fights, especially when younger).

I really like your phrasing of it: "Harry's not fighting as a wizard, he's fighting as a survivor" because that's exactly what this is. If punching someone helps, he'd do it, if a spell can be useful, he'd use it. Oh, his hands burn Quirrell, very well, he'd use that — he uses anything and everything he can, he doesn't care how it looks, just that it works.

I think the Death Eaters in OotP were surprised when he just, like, tackled them down physically. I think most wizards think such is beneath them, so it'll surprise them when someone actually throws hands. I mean, we see Arthur and Lucius throw hands, and it's clearly not something common in their society:

There was a thud of metal as Ginny’s cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, “Get him, Dad!” from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, “No, Arthur, no!”; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; “Gentlemen, please — please!” cried the assistant, and then, louder than all — “Break it up, there, gents, break it up —” [...] Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury. “A fine example to set for your children . . . brawling in public . . . what Gilderoy Lockhart must’ve thought —”

(CoS, Ch4)

I'm pretty sure Lucius did not expect that. Like, he might've expected a hex, but not to be pushed physically. He probably considers it awfully muggle.

So, yeah, your assessment is correct and it fits their characters, beyond just skill level (since I believe Harry could fight like Dumbledore and Voldemort if he was inclined to do so).

[lilithrosexoxo]

Fated Mates Ch. 1 Zing

Your mother takes the time to pin up your hair into an elaborate updo while your maidens pull your corset tight. “But Mother at this point I don’t even have a fated mate; the lunar goddess overlooked me”, you say with a dejected sigh.

You hate to think that way but how else are you supposed to feel? Most people meet their fated mates in their late teens or early 20s but here you are an unmated omega at 28 and not only an unmated omega but a prime omega. Your mother has always described meeting a fated mate would feel like a zing in your soul and you’ve never even felt so much as a spark with any alpha or beta. It honestly left you feeling heartbroken, lonely, and feeling like something was wrong with you. Did you not deserve love? Did you not deserve a kind loving alpha to make you feel safe? Would all of your heats always be torturous due to not feeling any satisfaction from any toy no matter how big. It just couldn’t compare to a real alphas knot. You feel tears start to well up in your eyes as you think of spending the rest of your life alone. Just the thought of spending every night by your lonesome in your nest made your heart ache. Or worst of all what if you were never able to start a pack of your own? You’ve always dreamed of having pups of your own, would you really not be able to become a mother?

“You’re doing that overthinking thing again”, your mother states pulling you out of your spiral, “you never know who you may meet at this ball, there will be a lot of handsome alphas here tonight”, she states like this night will be any different. “Besides we need a suitable alpha to take over the kingdom. All of our babies were omegas and omegas simply can’t rule the kingdom. While I love your siblings mates, none of them give off a good kingly presence and none of them are the mate of a prime omega”, she says with a shake of her head.

You sigh feeling downcast. Tonight will be no different than any other.

She places your tiara on your head and shows you the final results in the mirror and you wince. You hated wearing your crown, it always dug into your scalp. You are taken aback, you look gorgeous. You wear a deep red red off the shoulder gown. Gold and black lined your eyes and your lips were painted a deep blood red. You looked ethereal and prayed to the lunar goddess that tonight would be the night everything changed. You hate to get your hopes up but, maybe your mother was right, tonight would be different.

Your mother and your handmaidens left your room while you finished preparing for the ball. You looked at yourself one more time in the mirror gulping loudly.

“Here goes nothing”, you think to yourself as you go down the corridor leading to the ballroom. You enter the ballroom and feel a tinge of jealousy seeing your siblings dance with their fated mates.

“May I have this dance princess Y/N?”, a beta from his scent with long blonde hair and deep emerald eyes asks as he kneels before you.

Your throat constricts and your heart begins to pound in your chest as your nerves stand on end, “Is this the moment you think you’ve been waiting your entire life for?” you grasp his hand and nothing. You feel yourself fizzle out as yet another dud lands in your lap.

You put on your best fake smile, “I’d be delighted to dance with you”, you say as he takes you to the dance floor.

xoxo

You chug the rest of your ambrose wine as you feel defeated. Alpha and betas flocked to you all night in hopes of becoming the next leader of the Soleil kingdom but each one was a dud. After such disappointment you headed to the balcony to escape it all. You never felt the zing that your mother described. You can’t believe you allowed your mother’s words to get your hopes up. You go to take another chug into your mouth but are all out.

“Goddess damn it all, fuck it!”, you shout as you launch the cup into the garden. You don’t understand what was the point of being born an omega if you weren’t even going to have a fated mate. You feel scorned by the lunar goddess but, at the end of the day you just feel lonely. Tears stream down your face as you look up into the full moon. You begin to pray, “Lunar goddess please hear my plea. If I am meant to be with my fated mate please let them reveal themselves to me!”, you plead silently.

You’re met with silence and a gentle breeze blowing against you.

“Of course, I should’ve known my prayers would continue to go unanswered”, you say as you chuckle darkly. While you’re wallowing you hear a scream coming from the ballroom. You run back, while you may be mateless, one thing you did excel in was combat. With you approaching your 30s and being without a mate your father decided it was best to know how to defend yourself from those who would try to take advantage of a lack of a mate. You spent grueling months training with the knights of the kingdom to be skilled with your hands and swords.

You walked into the ballroom being an absolute bloodbath but it was easy to spot the culprits. It looks like this was an attack by the neighboring kingdom of ice elves. Things have been tense between the two kingdoms and it looks like they drew first blood. You step on something beneath you and look to see a dismembered arm on the ground. Actually now that you look around you see body parts of werewolves and ice elves all over. You pray that your loved ones are safe but, while you’re surveying the area an elf attacks you from behind knocking you into the ground. You quickly raise your hand to defend yourself and feel a sharp pain in your hand as the blade is stopped right above your eye. You quickly feel ice warp around the wound and great the elf has an enchanted sword. If you were one second late your eye would surely be gone, you’re not an alpha so there’s no way you would’ve been able to heal a wound like that. You’re also not nearly as strong as an alpha so you have to use your flexibility to use your legs to wrap around the elf’s neck and squeeze. He lets go of the knife and claws at your legs to no avail. He’s quickly knocked out and you take the sword out your hand with a grunt of pain. While you may be injured at least now you have a weapon.

You get up to see the fight has picked up and the amount of blood on the floor is causing people to slip. You look to see the leader of the holy knights, your best friend, a female alpha named Astrid, being backed into the corner by someone you’re assuming is leading this raid. Her sword lays to the side of the ground just out of reach. You cannot sit back and allow this to happen before your mind is even recognizing what’s going on your body is propelling forward and you are jumping in front of Astrid as the elves blade swings down.

“Y/N no!”, you hear your fathers distraught cry from the other side of the ballroom, him protecting your mother from the onslaught of elves that just keep coming.

You close your eyes preparing for the pain but, it never comes instead you feel electricity zip across your skin almost wait almost like a-

You open your eyes in shock and look at the alpha that’s towering over you while shielding you with his body and dagger.

“Oh my goddess, it’s you”, you say in awe. You can feel the sparks dancing between you two even with his back against you.

“Are you okay?”, a deep voice booms and it sends shivers up your spine.

All of a sudden you hear shouts, “It’s Alpha Sung Jinwoo!”, you hear whoops, hollers, and a few howls.

“It’s Alpha Sung Jinwoo we’re saved!”

“Alpha Sung please look at me”

“Alpha Sung has an army of shadow soldiers. Our numbers are now greater than theirs, now is the time to attack!”

With that there is a renewed sense of battle and the wolves and Jinwoo’s soldiers quickly turn the tide of the battle.

The man in front of you turns, kneels down, and caresses your cheek. Piercing blue eyes meet yours.

ZING!

[thatbitchery]

Last night decided to give in to the pressure and watch Love is Blind Habibi 100% for Nour because apparently we are bringing feminine and classy back and now see I know the bar is in hell I really do and I will give credit where credit is du ma'am knows how to hold herself but then she did the dumb girl thing and I had to pause the show and take a walk around town to cool down the second hand embarrassment of someone that seems to have it all just- falling apart but on national TV.

Ladies we DO NOT tell people our standards we live by them and they either match up or fall off. When ma'am said she does not pay the bill she needs to- I had to go take a breather and recollect myself because. Ma'am. 100% of all the crap she went through on that show would have been avoided if she wasn't trying so hard to be this season's IT girl (it worked though, she is. So from a marketing perspective - 10/10). We do NOT tell people what our standards and expectations are we live them and either they are it or they are NOT.

Shut Up and Do You then go home.

EVERYTHING. EVERY single THING that you say not only can but will, as a matter of undeniable and unavoidable fact, WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU in the court of social groups. Learn to SHUT your mouth. This is where therapists and I don't match up, they want you to be open and communicate and I want you to (in real life)

NEVER part with a fact unless you have to

Shut uppppp and observe

After initial outspreading, DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS YOU'RE SPOKEN TO

If you can't do this have an anon account on here and on Instagram or something and yap and say all that and be real so you can satisfy that need/desire and move on be a baddie IRL.

Human and literally animal communication is non verbal/literate. Even before you say anything subconsciously we have you boxed, but we can't quite put a finger on what we already know. Like that weird guy said in that equally weird interview- the thing with Noor is that she's a liar. Her actions do not match her words. She's fake. Because Queens don't tell kings treat me like a queen it just happens. Because queens live like Queens and everyone just automatically fall inro service.

If i had a dollar for every time I was told 'I told him/ her I don't like X and they still did it and now I'm hurt' uh huh and you deserve it. And I pray to God it keeps happening till you learn your lesson and stop being embarrasing.

Human beings- specifically men, are naturally competitive and combative. They want to turn No into Yes. When you tell a man no he automatically wants to make it a yes if they didn't we as a species would have died when the meat said no don't hunt me and they said aight bro bye. It takes combat to be a hunter. It's instinct. Notice how when you tell a man something they do the exact opposite. It's instinct. Outside men it's human and animal instinct to want to survive for longer by preserving energy so people naturally push boundaries & you see it so much in kids when you say don't do that and they do it looking at you to see if they can preserve the energy of not doing that by just overruning you. People are naturally combative we pyush boundaries that's why we have aeroplanes someone pushed the walking boundary.

No oneee wants to be told what to do. No oneeeeee. Not even you. It's degrading. It assumes you have no free will or the comprehension to exercise it and naturally people will fight back to maintain their independence.

You do know you're teaching people how to manipulate you do ypu not? By telling them what you like or dislike from the onset you take away the requirement to work hard to know you and handing them yourself on a platter. You tell a man you like flowers you give him a great path to just manipulate you bc now he can just buy you them whenever you're mad and it's good? If you shut it he'd have had to figure that out which would stress him which would force him to cherish you because he had to work? When you tell a girl 'don't talk to me like that' you teach her how to tick and trigger you but if you'd just walked out or shut her out she'd have had to make her way back?

I don't have standards for men because I have standards for me. Or friends or family. I'm a narcissist so I run everything by me to decide if it's worth it or not and just remove myself? I buy myself flowers sir? I don't talk to myself like that? I don't do that to me why the fuck would you think you can?

Shut. It.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Okay already the single most annoying trend in Arcane discourse is emerging on this post which is the compulsive need to stack the characters onto some kind of moral leaderboard based on their perceived politics. Which is neither the point of the show nor the point of this post.

Silco is a horrible little rat man who has no qualms about using drug addiction and violence to control people and his being in a position of power is overall a net negative for Zaun (although no more than any of the other people who are gunning for the job) and he also is a revolutionary, in the objective, descriptive sense of wanting to change the existing political structure of Piltover and Zaun. Not all revolutions are social revolutions that rearrange the existing class structure. In fact the tensions between national identity and class loyalty are one of the main political divisions within many independence/national liberation movements; plenty of Marxists from oppressed nations have written about this.

Part of Silco's tragedy as a character is that I think he could have been a very different person in the midst of a thriving Zaunite nationalist movement, which theoretically could have held him accountable to the kind of broader vision of improving the lives of everyone in Zaun that he, Vander and Felicia seemed to be talking about in their youth. But there is no broader Zaunite nationalist movement, and an isolated revolutionary can quickly become frustrated, bitter, and self-serving.

Ekko is the single most unproblematically selfless, good-hearted character in the show and he absolutely has the most liberatory, egalitarian vision for how his particular small community is organized. And I also wouldn't call him a revolutionary, an anarchist, or a community leader of Zaun as a whole, beyond the scope of the Firelights. He has carved out a small space of what seems to be relative equality and compassion within the Firelights' commune, but that is a mitigation strategy for the inequalities of their society. It works on a small scale when there are enough resources to go around, but we see how precarious it can be when demand increases and their main resource, the tree, comes under threat. The Firelights are active in disrupting the distribution of Shimmer in what is more or less a gang war with Silco, but there is no indication that Ekko is trying to change the overarching political structure of Piltover and Zaun or even thinks that's possible. We don't really see enough of the Firelights' community to know exactly how it is run and how decisions are made. Ekko may very well have broader political ideas about how society as a whole should be structured but we don't hear them clearly articulated, which is why I hesitate to put a political label on him or almost any other character in the show.

This really deserves a longer meta that I will hopefully have time to write soon, but to me THE key to understanding the political landscape of Zaun in the show is the lack of broad collective struggle based around either class or national identity.

On a Doylist level I think this is because the show is written by liberals (again, I say this in a descriptive not pejorative sense) who don't believe revolutionary change is worth the risk of extremism, instability and violence it could produce--and, even if they did, never intended that to be the main plotline of the show.

On a Watsonian level, I think all of these characters living in the wake of a defeated uprising, culminating in the massacre on the Bridge of Progress, explains everything we see. What kind of political actions emerge when most people think successful collective struggle is impossible? Accommodation to power in the hopes of minimizing harm to those you care about, no matter how humiliating and unsustainable a strategy that is (Vander). Vigilante violence that may inspire admiration but is ultimately accountable to no one (Jinx). Looking to one lone hero as a figurehead instead of relying on political self-activity and self-organization (the Jinxers). Positioning yourself as a strongman who has the correct ideas and will do anything to accumulate the power necessary to execute them (Silco). Trying to make things better on a small scale for the immediate circle of people you care about and maybe a small part of the community you can impact (Ekko). None of these characters have a bulletproof strategy for broader social change because that is not the main focus of the show.

It’s very funny to me when people call young Silco an anarchist because he once threw a Molotov cocktail at a cop. That man is a bourgeois nationalist if I ever saw one. If anything he’s sort of a moderate developmentalist—a lot of the demands he lists out in his independence proposal are about economic sovereignty that would allow an independent Zaun to compete with Piltover as a trade nexus via the Hexgates. He wants a state and he wants to be at the top of it. This is not a commentary on the merits of anarchism or nationalism as ideologies, I just think it’s funny cause he’s one of the only characters in Arcane with a well-developed, self-aware set of politics and Smash The State ain’t it.

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The sounds of birds chirping outside our home and the warmth of the body next to me was what slowly raised me out of my slumber. Groaning, I buried my face deeper into the bare chest but felt it vibrate in laughter. 

“We can’t stay in bed all day again, doll.” Bucky’s tired voice breathed in my ear. 

“I’m tired,” I whined, gripping him tighter. 

Bucky laughed again before brushing his lips over my forehead. “The goats need to eat.” 

Reluctantly I let him rise out of bed and marveled at the way the muscles moved in his back as he slowly rose. His bones clicked into place when he stood to his feet and with his arm, he threw on a shirt. 

I peaked over to the nub of his left arm while he covered it with a sling and my heart dropped, knowing how he truly felt about it. He was fine with it in the beginning, taking awhile to get used to only having one arm, but now two years later I knew that it was bothering him. Bucky felt like he couldn’t do what he used to be able to do and it would aggravate him. 

Never once did I complain about it, he knew exactly how to please me even with one hand. 

“Are you going to stare at my ass all morning or are you going to get out of bed?” Bucky joked while turning to face me. 

“But I’m cold,” I giggled while showing him my naked form underneath the sheets.

His eyes darkened with lust and I knew I was seconds away from having him back in bed with me. 

Suddenly I sat up in bed with a start, clutching the sheets closer to my bare body. I was filled with a sudden urge to fight, something that wasn't coming from Bucky. It was a feeling that I hadn’t felt in years and I was afraid to find out why I was feeling like this. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked. 

“I have this weird feeling,” I admitted. 

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed next to me and moved the hair out of my face. 

“About what?” 

“I don’t know. Something’s going to happen soon but I don’t know what.” 

Our lips met in a quick kiss before Bucky pulled me to my feet out of bed. 

“No use dwelling in it, doll. Let’s feed the goats then talk a walk,” Bucky suggested. 

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. I knew he was right. I couldn’t dwell on this feeling when I didn’t even know if it was truly something to worry about. 

While Bucky stepped outside, I dared a quick glance over to the burner cell phone that rested on our table. It hadn’t made one noise in the two years that it laid on that exact spot. There was only one number programmed in it and before I could stop myself, I sent a quick message to that number. 

Checking in on you and if everything is alright. Can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. 

“Doll?” Bucky called from outside. 

“Coming!” I yelled, tossing the phone onto the bed. 

I had missed the new message that appeared on the screen. 

Bucky tossed a pile of hay over towards the side of our hut while I chased the goats towards their pen for the evening. The Wakanda air had chilled, letting us know that night was fast approaching. The fire next to me was dying down so after tossing a few logs onto it, I looked over towards Bucky. 

“You know you could start that fire again with a quick snap,” He reminded me. 

Immediately I shook my head. “Not needed.” 

After Bucky and I settled in our new lives, I promised myself that I wouldn’t use my powers. I wanted some sense of normality in our lives.

Bucky’s lips parted to speak but when he noticed the way my body froze while looking over his shoulder, he followed my gaze and knew what caused me to freeze. 

T’challa and Okoye were walking over the hill towards us, a very large case in hand. 

We hadn’t seen them in over two years, only ever seeing Shuri. She would occasionally come to check in on us, mostly Bucky, so when I watched as T’challa walked closer towards us I knew that the feeling I had was true. 

Something was coming. 

T’challa gave us a small smile while placing the case in front of us and clicked it open. Inside was something that Bucky never thought he would see again. 

A brand new arm made completely of vibranium. 

Bucky’s mouth fell open, staring at the flash of vibranium. His shoulders tensed and the feeling of fight filled my veins. 

“Where’s the fight?” Bucky questioned. 

“On it’s way,” T’challa admitted. 

“How does it feel?” I questioned. 

Bucky raised the new arm a few times and clenched his fist over and over again. 

“Honestly, amazing,” He admitted. 

I gave him my best fake smile before busying myself again with pulling out a lock box from underneath our bed. Inside were all of our knives, something I never thought I would need again. 

T’challa had said that a new threat was on it’s way towards us, ready to destroy our universe, and his name was Thanos. 

Thanos was on a mission to collect all six infinity stones and if he found all of them, he would be able to erase half of the universe with a snap of his fingers. His alien army was on earth to find two of the stones that were hiding here. The time stone was in New York with a Dr. Strange and the Mind Stone was with a very familiar face. 

Vision. 

Thanos already had two of the stones, meaning that he was close to completing his mission. 

To say I was secretly afraid was an understatement. 

T’challa had also mentioned that we would be seeing some old friends of ours really soon; Wanda, Vision, Sam, Nat, and Steve. 

They fought some of Thanos' army in Scotland causing Vision to get hurt in the fight. They were all their way to us, hoping that Shuri could create a new stone for Vision so that we could destroy the Mind Stone. It was a long shot, even I knew that, but if there was even a slight chance to save Vision and the universe, Steve would do whatever it took. 

At the thought of Steve, I reached for the phone in front of me. 

I’ll be seeing you soon. We’ve missed you. 

“Y/N?” 

Quickly pocketing the phone in my suit, I gave Bucky my full attention. 

“How’re you feeling?” He asked, pulling me into his embrace. 

I rested my cheek against his chest and snaked my arms around him. 

“I’m scared. This fight seems too big for us.” 

“I know,” Bucky sighed. “But Steve needs our help. He wouldn’t be coming to us if he didn’t.” 

It was my turn to agree. “I know.” 

We shared a kiss, our lips moving in sync for a few moments, and when Bucky pulled away we rested our foreheads together. 

“No matter what happens, doll, I will always love you,” Bucky declared. 

“I love you too, Bucky,” I breathed while placing a kiss on his plump lips. 

We were interrupted by the sound of a loud jet descending from the sky, and suddenly, the life that Bucky and I had created the last two years vanished beneath us metaphorically. I knew that no matter the outcome of this fight that we were about to face, nothing would ever be the same.

[yesimwriting]

omg irl (personally) i would get so fed up with armand like... nothing's ever straightforward with you... there he goesss with his ulterior motives.

I love how you describe Louis' worry in the latest chapter, because as anon requested, it is the crashout of all crashouts BUT its so sublty written and kept between the lines (big kudos to you) because Louis is not burning and killing 20% of the vampiric population like he did in paris BUT there are hints/implication present that he absolutely would do something much worse to protect and/or avenge bestie reader.

And it really shows during the part after the phonecall when he's thinking to himself. Him repeating Josh's name like a mantra??? Girl his last victim was in the year 2000 but im sure he's willing make sure josh will never use both of his wrists to operate a car ever again lmao. Also, being an english speaking foreigner, i'm usually able to keep my accent at bay but i know damn well that Nola accent was HEARD through that damn phone. This reminds me of that older brother vibe ask of yours you wrote before. We all know he booked a flight arriving after sunset so he can personally drive and pick her up from the airport. Also stand as close as possible by the arrivals so she doesn't need to carry her luggage with a broken wrist.

His worry over the medication that makes her drowsy??? Omg Louis loves her so much its sickening what the hell. I need to see Daniel catching bestie in 4k, casually snoozing peacefully with Louis bc she feels so safe and i need daniel to snap a picture to blackmail louis with it later. (the 70 year old senior is louis younger brother confirmed by jacob anderson himself lmao)

The one hundred thousand over set price for her painting reference???? So Louis doesn't even know, I wonder where armand is keeping the painting. I also wonder what his intentions are with reader. Like... what are his feelings, is his interest romantic, platonic, sexual or something completely different.

Now bestie reader is so gen z and i know for a fact the people in this generation will see bullshit from miles away. (we've been trained by social media) I love the idea of armand being the manipulative gremlin that he is and reader just seeing straight through it. She's a baddie we know damn well she will CLOCK HIM the second he tries to shift the playing field. And I know he'll like it too. Just look at him and Daniel. (rip non book readers, devils minion will give you whiplash)

SIDE NOTE: i love the moment in the show when armand is retelling his story of the trial in paris and Daniel questioning how tf a five hundred year old ancient did not have the ability to stop his own coven. Daniel's smug face and the deadpan "Or what?". Daniel GO GET HIS ASS.

Daniel and reader would get along so well.

side note nr 2: i apologize for the bomb i just dropped in your inbox.

omg what a fun ask <33

i love armand, but in real life i'd be so over the theatrics of it all 😭 like yes you're playing chess and we're all playing checkers we get it!! no one will think you're less mysterious if you just answer the question omg

thank you for mentioning the louis thing! i'm glad you liked how i set it up bc i wanted his worry/frustration to be apparent but i still wanted it to feel in character. ik he's not opposed to greater crash outs (like the paris thing for my girl claudia ✊) but i also think that even when he's upset he understands time and place to an extent. like claudia's very intentional killers deserve worse than a guy who has done something relatively minor to reader on accident. however, it's still important that he very much would do the same if not worse for bestie reader if something actually bad happened to her, so i'm glad you read it that way!!

the josh thing pls 😭 i almost didn't have bestie reader give the guy a name bc she knew how he'd react. also i think that while louis isn't chill with murder, knowing that it'd be so easy to hurt someone who he thinks deserves it isn't an easily dismissible thought. i don't think he's jumping to hurt/kill everyone that's wronged bestie reader, but i do think it's an intrusive thought. the wrist thing 😭 i can see louis reacting like that if he was right there, but i feel like louis would only plan out violence if someone seriously/intentionally hurt reader.

this is going to sound off topic, but bare with me for a second. i haven't delved into this yet, but friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and while i'm committed to louis and bestie reader always being completely non-toxic, that doesn't mean their dynamic is simple. a major thing that complicates their relationship is the way that they worry over the way the other perceives them.

bestie is worried that louis perceives her as fragile and therefore fleeting and unworthy of long term attention. she's scared of being seen as a hindrance and as a burden. louis is worried that one day everything will click for bestie reader and she'll realize that he's a monster. so he's doing all he can to not demonstrate violence in front of her.

anyways, all this to say that he's not going around attacking people partially bc of his values but also bc he doesn't want her to associate violence with him.

also, total side note but this dynamic is actually what leads to reader and armand bonding. louis loves her so much and the thought of losing her is so distressing that sometimes he censors himself a little too much or treats reader like she's extremely fragile. armand doesn't. yes, this is because it's easier to risk losing someone that isn't the your emotional support human, but also bc he genuinely thinks she's capable of handling it. he'll tell her every (non-incriminating) vampire story ever in full, gory detail and reader is fascinated.

the accent comment is killing me 😭 ik that nola accent was HEAVY over the phone. reader felt those words in her soul.

and yes he’s AT that airport and he’s happy about it too lol.

also yes louis loves her sm 😭. ofc he was worried about her all alone on drowsy medication. that's the light of his life! what's he supposed to do if something happens to her? go back to only talking to his companion and occasionally a journalist accidentally moonlighting as a divorce lawyer??

also omg daniel and reader interactions are a need!! daniel being described as louis's younger brother is so important to me here omg. i love daniel and louis's relationship sm, and i just know daniel is ready for someone else with common sense to be sitting in. daniel looks at bestie reader like that one meme that's like 'you're the only bitch in the house i ever respected'.

the picture concept is so cute 😭 might have to write that into a scene bc i can see daniel seeing louis and reader asleep and at first being like ? and then taking the picture to bring it up later.

YES THE PAINTING REFERENCE i'm so glad you noticed!! i was so excited for it lol. i mentioned this in another post briefly, but i think armand's lowkey disgusted with himself for purchasing the painting bc it's a physical representation of the fact that he finds reader interesting. even before louis, before he knew her, he found something about her interesting, and bc he thinks reader has dismissed him, he wants to pretend that he's never thought about her at all.

i don't want to spoil where the painting is (it's not a major spoiler lol) but armand still has it and it is somewhere secret.

omg armand's intentions with bestie reader 😭!! i'm going to give you a short answer and then a long answer bc his feelings for her evolve slowly.

short answer: he has a really intense hate-crush on her. she's so beloved and perfect and basically the sun personified. he wants to consume her soul, he wants her to not exist, he wants her live forever, he wants her, he wants her to be just as obsessed with him so that he can calm down. she's an affliction. she's a blessing. he's going through it.

long answer: at first, he resents her bc she's taking up all of louis's attention and love. then, he starts to wonder what is so perfect and wonderful about her that has louis absolutely enraptured by her existence. then, he tries to win her over for his pride, and then..well...it spirals.

there's also the underlying benefits of getting reader to care more about him than louis bc then louis can't leave him without losing reader (most delusional and unrealistic part of his thought process tbh).

as far as end goals, he's a little lost bc all of this was an accident <3. it gets to a point where louis and reader are so intertwined, armand thinks he deserves to be with both of them. he's entitled to a matching set.

bestie reader's gen-z-ness being the reason she can see through everything armand says 😭. omg. in my head, she likes louis and armand together so when she realizes something is up she's like oh no. bc she obviously has to tell louis but she's not happy about it. lowkey on a subconscious level she doesn't want to not have armand in her life so she's like :(.

still calls him out tho bc she's loyal and also bc his lies are so egregious it's hard not to. i can picture her being lowkey sneaky when armand mentions saving louis, like feigning confusion and asking something like "just so i'm clear, isn't lestat also technically a powerful vampire? and wasn't he also in the building?" just to start something but also as a way of sending louis subliminal messages to lock in and open his eyes.

also i can see daniel realizing bestie reader knows something is up and looking at louis and being like "come on...i know, armand knows, even the girl that was really happy to be talking two minutes ago and now can't stop staring at the floor knows..." 😭

omg and armand liking being called out. this is for sure when his obsession with reader peaks. also, this hasn't come up yet, but i picture bestie reader as being very perceptive and when she argues with armand over small things she accidentally clocks him with next level reads that she'll never know how accurate they are. i'm talking reads so accurate, louis is immediately stepping in between them bc he thinks it's so over for her just for armand to let it go. (might need to write a drabble featuring this)

armand's love language to reader is not killing or torturing her for calling him out. it gets to a point where louis is like ? girl i've seen you kill people for implying what she just directly said?? if louis ever notices that something is going on with armand in relation to bestie reader it's bc of a suspicious lack of attempts to physically hurt her fr.

(also total side note, but bc you mentioned devil's minion, i just needed to say i love devil's minion era sm.)

omg in response to your side note, i LOVED that moment so much. "or what?" had me gagged. on the GROUND fr.

daniel and reader would get along so well. two divas coming together to maximize their joint slay. they're sitting around the penthouse giggling over the vampire drama like they're the immortal ones 😭.

also,, never apologize for sending me a long ask!! i'm currently very hyperfixated on iwtv and this was so fun for me! if anything, i'm sorry for how long this response was 😭💗

[eddiesvixen]

Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinkin’ Rich - 𝗗.𝗥.𝗙.𝗦.𝗥

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 (𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴) , 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲 (𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹’𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘂𝗰𝗲)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟱.𝟭𝗸

the sixth and final chapter of Open Til Midnight

The car ride is silent on your way home from the station. You’re sat in the backseat of Hopper’s truck with Eddie as he eats away at the meal Jonathan brought you. You didn’t have an appetite honestly. Nothing filled you mroe right now than the rage you feel for Larry.

That smug face he gave you, the accusatory tone he used against Eddie when those cops showed up. The way he looked at Hopper like he wasn’t worth a wad of gum on the sidewalk. You wanted to make that bastard pay.

Hopper drops you and Eddie off at his apartment.

“You two gonna be okay?” He looks back at the both of you, tired and defeated. You’ve never seen Hopper like this and that hurt’s you more.

“We’ll be fine.” You nod. “See you tomorrow.”

You hop out of the truck and go into Eddie’s apartment with him. He’s been awfully quiet and that worries you given how uncommon it is. You speak up.

“Do you want me to draw you a bath? Help you relax?”

He hesitates, not facing you. He hasn’t said a word since he watched you hand that cash in at the jailhouse for him. “Shower’s fine.” He walks off to the restroom.

You sigh and rub your eyes, fighting off how tired you are. Shutting down the car wash took Robin and Steve forever, leaving Chrissy to work the register alone while Jonathan brought the cash to you guys at the jailhouse. They didn’t count the cash and get Eddie out until 10, and now you’re home late 11.

‘Maybe he’s just tired.’

Bullshit.

You walk to the restroom door. “Eddie.”

There’s a gap of silence before he speaks up, his voice slightly shaky and that alone makes you wish you could break this door down.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Baby please let me in.” You place your hand to the knob. “Please.”

After a few seconds you hear the door unlock and when you open it you see him sitting on the lid of the toilet, eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Eddie.” You frown and hold onto him, standing between his legs.

He hugs you tightly and sobs into your shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

You frown and rub his back. “Eddie you have nothing to apologize for, yeah? Larry was a dick. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

He sobs a bit and you feel that ache in your heart. You haven’t seen Eddie cry this hard since his 18th birthday. He couldn’t stop crying over his mom, he missed her the most that day. And he kept playing that record over and over again. So you rest your hand in his curls.

There are places I remember

All my life though some have changed

Some forever, not for better

Some have gone and some remain

He takes a deep breath and keeps his tight hold on you, his breathing trying to regain strength. You keep rubbing his shoulders and back, feeling the tension fade.

All these places had their moments

With lovers and friends I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life, I've loved them all

He looks up at you. He sighs and gently grips your hips. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You offer him a sympathetic grin as you move his curls back so you can see his eyes better.

“You’re not perfect, Eddie. You’re a freak, remember? We’re never gonna be accepted by these people. We don’t have to be accepted.. and I know that’s scary.” You sigh. “Eddie, i’m terrified. I’ve been scared out of my mind all week.”

You cup his face. “But Steve and Chrissy, Robin, Jonathan, Hopper.. even that old man at the car wash,” you huff a small laugh, “and especially you, Eddie. That’s why I keep going. Because I have you.”

He eyes dart between your eyes and he speaks in a soft tone, as if he’s afraid to talk. “I love you.”

You feel your heart warm and freeze at the same time. Sure, you’ve said it before, as friends. But you’re not just friends anymore. You answer back in the same soft tone.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

He stands up and cups your face, kissing you as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. You kiss him back and keep your gentle hold on him, given that he’s still trembling a bit.

When he finally pulls back he speaks lowly. “Sweetheart, I promise i’ll make this right.”

You shake your head. “Eddie, there’s nothing we can do. We don’t even know what’s gonna happen tomorrow.”

“I do.” He nods and sighs. “I overheard those officers talking while the clerk was counting my bail. I know where Larry’s gonna be for the opening.”

You raise a brow. “What?”

“He’s having a party with the rest of his big business buddies. Cutting a ribbon and everything, like some kind of ceremony.”

“And how do you know this?”

Eddie moves his hands to rest on your shoulders. “I heard them sweetheart. It’s gonna be a huge event.” He shakes his head. “Turns out I was right about the cops being on his payroll.”

You nod. “Well then we better make sure they know about Larry’s letters.”

“Have a feeling they already do.”

You frown, the weight of his words sinking in. "So what's our play? We can't just sit back and let them sweep this under the rug."

He grins with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The same glint you saw before he punched Larry. "But we wont. If they're so busy making a scene, we'll just have to steal the show."

You had so many questions and yet, that glint in Eddie’s eyes woke you up. All of the anger, sadness, worry, rage and anxiety you felt all week. Play it cool. Wrap things up. You nod.

“We’ll steal the show.”

~~~~~

“Are you out of your mind?” Steve says from behind Hopper’s desk.

“Just hear me out.” Eddie sits up in his chair. “Those assholes are about to drink and party up in their fancy suits while our family ship sinks. There’s gonna be an orange slip on the door and a big ass sign hanging over our store tonight. Do you really want that?”

“Of course not.” Steve sighs.

“So let us do this, just once.” You look at Steve with pleading eyes.

“You just got out of jail.” Steve points at Eddie, then you. “And you’re not even on the schedule today.”

“And yet here we are. Home.” Eddie sits back in his chair.

“Look… I hate this, okay? I’m losing my mind knowing this’ll be the last time I step foot in here. But Hopper left me in charge.”

“So,” Eddie shrugs, “where is he? We’ll distract him while you give us the paperwork.”

“Downtown.”

You both look at Steve and he regrets saying it as soon as he does.

“Why’s he downtown?” You sit up and Steve swallows a bit because he knows from the look in your eye and the bounce of Eddie’s knee, that you both already know.

He sighs. “Signing off the lease.”

There’s a moments silence before Eddie speaks up.

“How long?”

Steve looks confused. “What?”

“How long do we have until the lease has to be in?”

“He said ten.”

You and Eddie look at each other. “The ribbon cutting.”

“The what?”

“At the party, Steve.” You sit up, hands on the desk. ��Larry’s gonna cut a ribbon and that’s when those signatures count. That’s when it’s final.”

Steve looks at the clock. “It’s 3pm, why’d you come here just now?” He stands up with Hopper’s store keys as you all walk over to his closet.

Eddie hides a smrik and shrugs. “Traffic.”

You shake your head and look away so Steve doesn’t see the laughter you’re hiding but it’s late. “You guys are gross.”

“Not letting my girl leave the house stressed and untouched, Harrington. Take my advice.”

“Eddie.” You blank stare him and he sighs.

“Right, time and place. Sorry sweetheart.” He wiggles his fingers and takes the folder from Steve.

“Look, let’s maybe not tell Hop about this? In case it all goes to shit?” Steve looks between you and Eddie.

“Scouts honor.” Eddie quips as the three of you sit and look through the folders.

They’re all here. 5 years of letters, contracts, signatures from Hopper and Larry. You had a wave of hope swarm in you that you hope won’t die out.

“If there’s gonna be that many people at this party you need to move now.” Steve holds up his car keys.

Eddie raises a brow. “And what are these for?”

“Drives faster.”

Eddie scoffs. “My van is faster than lightning.”

“Okay? My car looks better-“

You cut off Steve before the boys can waste any more time. “Save it. We’ll take your car Steve. Beisdes, we have to make a stop on the way.”

“We do?” Eddie gives you a contemplative look.

“Come on.” You grab his hand.

Steve yells. “Don’t scratch my car!”

“No promises!” Eddie yells back as he lets you pull him out to the car.

~~~~

“This is bullshit.” Eddie groans as he drives Steve’s car along the road.

“Come on it’s not so bad.”

“His car’s so small.” He huffs and looks over at you as you hide a laugh. “Oh this is funny?”

You smile. “We are on the mission of a lifetime and you’re worried about driving Steve’s bmw. This is the richest car we’ve ever been in.”

“Are you really disrespecting the van while she sits in the lot away from me?” He looks at you like you called him ugly.

“Babe all im saying is… this is kinda nice. Admit it, Steve’s car does drive very smoothly.”

“No shit, he can actually afford the best engine and his dad didn’t fuck the motor when he owned it.”

You grab Eddie’s hand and rest it on your knee. “Al left you a gift. She is the golden ride, the safe haven, okay?”

He grins and nods, squeezing your hand before resting his palm over yours on yours on your thigh. “Say it again, baby.”

You laugh. “Shut up.”

“Just wanna hear you say it again. You know how much it would mean to her.” He smirks and you sigh.

“She is the safe haven.”

“Damn sweetheart. You keep talking like that and all I hear is wedding bells.”

Your eyes widen and you look at him. He can’t believe he said it too but you grin. “Wow.”

“Is that a good wow?” His adam’s apple bobs and he shifts in the driver’s seat, his other hand tightening on the wheel.

You grin and squeeze the one resting on your thigh. “The best wow.”

He snorts. “Sap.”

You gasp and smile. “Asshole. Says the guy who wouldn’t let go of my hand at the Manowar show in ‘85.”

“Oh you’re bringing that up again? Didn’t want us to get separated by that mosh.” The tinge in his cheeks shows you that he’s lying.

“You’re the sap, Munson.”

“And what does that make you?” He quips back.

“The girl in love with you, idiot.” You smile and tilt your head to look at him.

“You can’t say things like that. Not today, okay? Can’t focus if my girl is consistently flirting with me.”

“Fine, but we’ll finish this talk later.” You nod and point. “There’s our exit.”

He takes the exit and drives into the lot of the strip mall. If you were going to crash a rich asshole’s party, you needed to get in first. And if you were gonna get in, you needed to look the part. Jewelry to your hair to your clothes and shoes.

But you’re not rich assholes, you’re record shop workers. Record shop workers with a left over thousand dollars from your hard work this past week. You walk into the shop with Eddie and you look around for anything that will suit your style the best it can.

You found the prettiest black dress that slits up to your thigh and you picked out some jewelry to fit in with the other trophy wives bound to be at the party. You’d fixes your hair up and touched up your makeup to a soft glam. The black stilettos on your feet made you feel like you were actually rich, but damn did you miss your boots.

Any worries about your outfit goes out the window when you walk out of the dressing room and see Eddie. The black button up with the top two unbuttoned, he had on these black slacks that made you see him in a different light.

He manages to speak after his jaw falls slack. “Oh baby..”

You smile. “Look at you.”

“Me? Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He reaches his hand out and you take it, allowing him to pull you closer, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“You brush your hair down?” You grin, eyeing over the low bun he managed to fit his curls into.

“Well I can’t show up with a giant mane, they’ll never let us in.” He hesitates. “It’s not bad is it?”

“It’s fine.” You grin as he cups your face.

“You’re like a princess. They’ll never see you coming baby, all sophisticated and sexy.” His hands rest on your ass and you giggle.

“Thought you said no distractions.”

“We can spare a minute.” He puckers his lips and you laugh.

“Nerd.”

He smirks. “59, 58, 57…”

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles and squeezes your ass, humming as he feels you lick into his mouth. He shuts the door of the fitting room and grips your body closer.

You murmur against his lips. “Watch the dress.”

He hums and carefully loosens his grip on your ass. He kisses you for a bit longer before pulling back with a smile on his face. “Are you wearing that damn lip tint?”

That lip tint you wear to every concert, the one that left the cherry scent on his cheek after you kissed it in the photobooth after graduation senior year. He loves it so much and you love how his eyes widen when he licks his lips to taste it again.

“It is!”

You laugh and before you can respond, he kisses you again, tongue delving out to taste the cherry from your lips.

You laugh and pull back. “Stop, you’re gonna smear it.”

“Oh, too late for that.” He pokes his tongue out and you laugh.

You wipe the corners of your lips. “Minute’s over.”

He groans and sighs. “Right.” He pulls out the envelope of cash from his slacks. “I’ll pay and you start the car.”

You take the keys from him. “Okay.”

You walk separate ways but before he gets too far you pull him in and kiss him and smile, speaking in that sultry tone he loves so much.

“It’s called cherry bomb.” You grin.

“Cherry bomb. I will bulk these, just so you know.” He smirks and licks his lips again. “Go, before you make us late.”

~~~~~

City lights, busy streets and almost twenty parking lots later you and Eddie found yourselves in the elevator of the Languard suites. You stand there a bit nervous. There was bound to be so many people in rich suits and dresses, the people who would determine what happens to Empire tonight.

Eddie holds your hand. “I just want you to know.. if this goes south,” he sighs and gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “night shifts are open at the diner, and Jeffrey says we’re welcome.”

You wish you didn’t have to hear those words from Eddie’s lips. You nod and squeeze his hand in return. “Okay.”

You share a look. “And if it doesn’t go south,” you grin, “we’ll go back to Empire and party all night.”

He smiles. “After some alone time?”

You laugh at his eagerness. “After some alone time.”

The elevator dings and opens, you wrap your arm around his as you walk off and see into the main hall where the party takes place.

It’s very lively and full of rich people in the fanciest clothes. There’s a fountain and music played by a live orchestra. Waiters standing in every corner and everyone has a glass of their desired drinks in their hands.

Eddie leans in and murmurs in your ear. “Fancy was an understatement.”

You grin and speak back. “I think i’m gonna be sick.”

He laughs and your eyes scan the party. “That asshole’s gotta be somewhere in here.”

“Hors d'oeuvres?” A waiter says as he holds up a platter of.. fish bites?

“No thanks.” Eddie says and he grabs two glasses of champagne from the table. When the waiter leaves he looks are you with a disgusted expression. “The hell was that?”

“Fish, mushrooms? I can’t tell.” You both cringe.

You look at the clock. “It’s 7:29. Think they’ll cut the ribbon soon?”

Eddie looks across the room where the dark blue ribbon lies near the performers. “Maybe, but we made it in time.”

“So what now?” You look at him.

“Lets try to find something actually edible.” He tugs you along.

You don’t find much and of course you don’t go unnoticed. It seems everyone at this party knows each other and have businesses, so you and Eddie play along to your best attempts.

You two actually had a pretty solid story. A lovely young couple with a family business passed down from your lovely late Uncle Jim, with a successful rise in vinyl sales and bigger rise in production. Simple, typical, rich. The story sells for a while.

Unfortunately for you and Eddie, rich people talk and they talk fast. As the two of you mingle you hear someone approach you. You smell him, actually. That disturbing scent of old cedar and the smell that the dry cleaning leaves on his suits.

“Rest poor Uncle Jim’s soul.” Larry fixes his hair and looks over the both of you.

“Thought I heard slithering, sweetheart there is a snake in here.” Eddie wraps an arm around your waist.

“Nice party, Larry.” You hold onto Eddie.

“Do I need to call security? This is a private event.”

“Oh, but it’s a business event and until midnight we are business partners, right baby?” You look at Eddie and he smirks, proud to see his girl standing up to an ass like Larry.

“Oh absolutely. Even have it right here.” Eddie pulls out an envelope from his slacks and Larry’s face drops as the company around him sees his mood change.

“Have you lost your mind?” He glares at you both, “I will not be threatened by a bunch of little rebels from some pathetic small music store.”

“Pathetic?” You tilt your head, “and so which one of your properties got you enough money to afford an event like this?”

“Certainly not yours.” He glares at you both.

Eddie pulls out the paper from the envelope and smiles. “How about a little toast? Little speech?” He clears his throat before Larry can even speak. “It is with great pleasure that I sign into agreement with Jim Hopper as partners in ownership of lot 387-“

“That’s enough.” Larry demands as a few people around us catch focus.

Eddie keeps reading. “On the present date February 16, 1981 all rights of personal sales, clientele and ownership of the land belong to the persons arranged on any legal form.”

Eddie drops the paper at Larry’s feet and a lot more people focus in, murmuring to themselves.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“We know our rights.” You unfold another paper from the envelope as you walk around now. The music has stopped and everyone is focused in on you and Eddie.

“See this? This is the first certificate of full ownership for lot 387, where a community music store has rested for the past 8 years.” You hold up the certificate, “and your friend Larry here has scammed me and my family.”

You hold it up and a lot of people can’t believe their eyes. Larry grits his teeth before he speaks up. “No such thing has happened, the lot is not made for personal ownership.”

“Then why sell it to us?” Eddie speaks up.

Larry's face twitches but he quickly recovers as straightens his tie. "That was a leasing agreement not a purchase," he tries to talk smoothly but he falters at the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. "There's a difference."

You wave the certificate for the crowd to see. “The difference is Larry here, has had my boss, the most cooperative and honest man sign these fake certificates. Otherwise known as an incomplete certificate.”

“This ribbon.” Eddie says now standing in front of it, “will kill the past 8 years that me and my girlfriend and my friends have built up. The community it’s raised and the sales that have gotten you all to this very room. All gone and for what? A bookstore? Something special to so many kids and families. Gone.”

Larry clenches his jaw, his face turning red.

"This isn't some charity case. Business is business and I have done my part."

"Business?" Eddie scoff. "Scamming hard working people and kicking them to the curb is business to you?"

“How much?” A woman in a fancy dress speaks up.

You look at her a bit confused so she rephrases. “Larry never told us how much he’d be making once he made his big sell tonight so how much is it?”

“Ten thousand.” You look at the woman then Larry. “And we almost had it too. Until we saw that the licenses were actually all in his name.”

Another man speaks up. “That’s just ridiculous.”

You nod. “And yet here we are, being ever so kind to you Larry. Not asking for money or land or anything from you.”

“Then why are you here?” If looks could kill you and Eddie would be melted and six feet under.

“We want our home.” Eddie says simply, tossing all of the papers to the floor. The crowd of business owners in the room watch closely as you and Eddie face Larry.

“No more business agreements, no certificates, no partnerships. We want it to ourselves. The land, the lot, the building. Where it’s always been, but ours.”

There’s moments silence before Larry take a step closer. “And if I say no?”

You tilt your head, meeting his cold stare. "Then we take this to court. Every little trick, every fake contract, every loophole you exploited." You take a step forward standing by Eddie. "You might win, the man always wins right? But it'll cost you. Reputation, clients, everything you worked so hard for. Everyone here who’s celebrating, do you think they’ll have your back when it all goes away?”

The room falls into the silence. For every man, there’s a man he must answer to. And as you look around the room you know you’re right. No one would risk all of this for anyone else, not me or Larry or anyone.

Eddie chimes in in a kinder tone. "Or... you sign it over. No lawsuits, no bad press. Just a clean break. We walk away with what's ours and you’ll never see us again. Nobody needs to know.”

You nod and look around the room. Nobody needs to know. You don’t know much about rich people or what deals they make and you don’t know how far this will get you and Eddie as he extends his hand.

So many eyes on the three of you. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and your head swirling with thoughts. You can’t believe your eyes when you see Larry shake Eddie’s hand.

“Nobody needs to know.”

~~~~

You can’t stop staring at the papers in front of you. You’ve been reading them since they got here. The font, the title after your name. The amount of money following it.

Certificate of ownership, Jim Hopper.

Your name lies underneath with the title Co Owner.

Certificates and licenses under your names. The ownership of Empire Records is one hundred percent yours. You had people making offers at the party after finding out about Empire and how much money the store had brought for Larry’s career but you wanted it as your own. And now you look at the papers, rightfully yours.

“It’s not going anywhere you know.” Eddie smirks from behind you, smiling as he brings in your coffee.

You share a quick kiss, smirking when you pull away. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Yeah? Well, I told you you’re the favorite.” He lifts your lanyard, the title of assistant manager underneath your name.

“You’re my favorite.” You reach up from your seat and kiss him.

He murmurs against your lips. “Sap.”

You smile. “Shut up.”

You keep kissing until you hear the fake gags at the door from Steve and Chrissy. You both flip them off before pulling back.

“Can you two please keep that at home, it’s like watching two snakes slither into each other’s mouths.” Steve cringes dramatically.

You smile. “Technically this is my office, my rules.”

“Besides,” Eddie kisses you one last time before standing straight. “If I can’t kiss my girlfriend here i’ll think of somewhere else. Bathroom, back room, the van..”

Your eyes widen. “Eddie!”

Chrissy gasps. “You said those pillows were in the back for sleeping!”

“They are.” He smirks. “After we eat, have a little joint, then-“

“Eddie.” You give him that look and he shuts up.

“Anyways,” Steve pipes up, “customers are outside. Are the doors ready to open?”

Everyone looks at you. You smile. “We’re all set.”

The customers flood in and the store is in great business. There’s people coming in to listen to music, but records and even some acknowledge your help wanted sign. Now that you’re co owner, there’s more help needed on the sales floor. And you’re relieved to see so many people come in.

You order new deliveries for more records and check the booths. Managerly duties come easy to you since you’ve been here for so long, and you can’t help but admire all of your own hard work.

All of the money you raised, how determined you were to keep this place. Shutting down the corporate and keeping your families home. There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder.

Robin smirks. “Miss boss manager lady.”

You groan. “Rob come on. No big titles okay, im still me.”

“Someone needs your help.”

You raise a brow. “They asked for a manager?”

“Mhm. Right in the back room.” She nods, feigning seriousness.

“Okay um, ill be right back.” You walk down the stairs from the booths to the back room and you smile at the sight in front of you.

Eddie stands by the sofa, a rose in his mouth and a cupcake on the table. The room is dark and lit by a few tea candles. He smiles and wiggles his brows, whatever he’s trying to say to you is muffled by the rose.

“What?” You smile.

He chuckles and holds his hand out for you to take. Once you do he pulls you into his body and grins as you take the rose.

“Where’s your shirt?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s your first question, really?”

You smile. “Well someone could walk in.”

“Thought you liked pda.” He challenges you, pulling you onto his lap on the sofa as you sit on his left thigh.

“I do, but this is our first solo opening.”

“Exactly.” He smiles and hands you the cupcake. “Congratulations baby.”

You take the cupcake from his hand, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you. The dim lighting from the candles casts a soft glow around you both making the moment feel even more intimate.

"Congratulations to you too," you grin before taking a small bite of the cupcake. "Mmm, did you pick these out?"

He smirks, running a hand down your back. "Of course. You like it?”

You smile. “Try for yourself.” You drag your finger in the frosting, spreading a bit onto his nose.

He blinks in surprise before letting out a low chuckle. "Oh you think you're funny huh?"

You giggle, leaning back slightly as he pretends to be offended. "Just wanted to share." You say it in one but Eddie’s no dummy.

He swipes his thumb across his nose, licking the frosting off with a slow smirk. "Cute. But now you owe me."

You raise a brow and before you can react his fingers graze your chin, tilting your face as he kisses you soft and slow at first, then deeper as he tastes the sugar on your lips from his. Your fingers curl against his bare shoulder, the warmth of his skin grounding you in the moment.

When he pulls back his eyes gleam with mischief. "Definitely sweeter that way."

You smile. “Teasing me while were in the middle of our first shift?”

“Teasing? Sweetheart it’s like 8pm, I should at least get ten minutes.”

You play at his curls and kiss him one last time. “I could fire you now.”

He clutches his chest. “Maliciously cruel princess how you break my heart.”

You giggle at his dramatic attitude and tap his chest. “Something I could never do.”

He holds your hand to his chest and speaks softly. “Always knew you’d find a way.”

You speak in a tone to match his own. “Couldn’t have done it without you all.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, his smirk softening into something more sincere. "Well i'm not going anywhere so you're stuck with me."

"Good," you murmur, giving his hand before finally pulling away. "Now get back to work before I actually fire you."

He sighs dramatically but stands, stretching before shooting you a wink. "Yes boss."

He pulls on his shirt and heads toward the front, you take a moment to glance around the reality of the night settling in. Your first solo opening. Something you've dreamed of for so long and somehow it feels even better sharing it with him.

With Steve and Jonathan and the girls, for Hopper, for your customers. You saved Empire from hell and woth the help of everyone you did it for including yourself, you knew that everyday would feel like today and even better.

taglist: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914 @definitionwanderlust @veravee-blog @losingmygrasponreality @ironmusictrash @littlemissholy @bastardstevie

author’s note: thank you so much for reading Open Til Midnight. this has been fun to write and i hope its been fun to read. please reblog or share with a friend, zoe ♥️

[beef-brisket]

Adam smiled: You don't owe me anything, Charlie. I know what it's like to want your father to show how much he cares. Picking you was the right option-.

Adam jumped as Charlie wrapped her arms around him. He quickly returned the favour and rubbed her back once he heard her crying.

He was never angry at Charlie. Her parents were together a lot longer than any human child could fathom. It was only right she'd want them together again. She wanted normalcy and to feel loved.

Adam understood that all too well.

There was a chime that rang throughout Hell, indicating the extermination was coming to an end.

Charlie stood back, expecting Adam to return to Heaven. But when her dad came over and hugged him, she noticed more and more exorcists fly through the portal.

Charlie: Uh- Adam. The portal's closing soon.

Adam smiled: Thanks, Charlie. But I'm not going back to Heaven. And I have a feeling they all know it, to.

Looking out the window, they watched as angels flew up, leaving anarchy and chaos on the streets.

Lucifer: A-Are you sure, dove? I don't- you deserve- Addy-.

Leaning down, Adam kissed him: I know what I'm doing, Lu. And what I want. Besides, I think being a fallen angel would suit me better. It's too bright up there.

Charlie and Lucifer laughed before they watched the last exorcist fly up and out of Hell, the portal closing.

Charlie smiled: I'll uh... catch up with you later this week, dad.

Lucifer: Brunch?

Charlie went over and hugged her father tightly: Brunch.

With one-step wave to both Adam and Lucifer, Charlie left the room.

Adam: ...So.

Lucifer: God, I love it when you wear tight clothes~.

Adam laughed and blushed as Lucifer gripped his hips and pulled his uniform even tighter, showing off his curves.

Lucifer: I'm so glad you kept this sinful body~.

With Adam's wi g's fluffing up, he squeaked as Lucifer picked him up, and spun him around.

Once he stopped, Lucifer pulled him with a kiss.

Lucifer: I can't believe you did this... for me.

Adam cupped Lucifer's cheek: You saved my life, Lu. Showed me things I'd only dreamed of. Given me love when I was so sure I didn't deserve it. I'd do anything for you, anything.

Lucifer smiled brightly: Would you marry me?

Adam: Anything- wait, what? M-marry you?

Looking at his partner in shock, Lucifer placed his love back on the floor and got on one knee, pulling out a dark red velvet box.

Lucifer: Adam- I got this... so long ago. I knew from the beginning that you were the one. You've saved me from myself- and have done more for me than anyone I know. I... fuck- I love you so much, and these few months without you killed me. Adam Kadmon, would you do me the honour of marrying you, and ruling Hell by your side...?

Adam was beyond crying before Lucifer had even finished, but when it was his time to answer, he managed to squeak out a:

Adam: Y-Yes- FUCK yes!

I also really love Nun Adam. But this time let him be a real nun and Lucifer come up as the devil looking for a new human bride 👀

I'm weak for aus like this.

I love nun!Adam au's!

Maybe too much.

Who am I kidding? There's no such thing. I'm so keen for this btw!

Let's start a new rp!

[sakur4ii]

Yan!Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

It's a night like any other. You had just arrived at your apartment after spending the day in your studio, doing different types of photo sessions. Today, you had been hired for a wedding. You're excited—it's the first time you've been hired for something so important since opening your studio.

You love photography. To you, everything the eyes capture is art and deserves to be preserved forever. Since your eyes can't take pictures, you use a camera. You have to admit that sometimes people might think you're a bit odd—taking pictures of strangers or things that, at first glance, don’t seem worthy of framing. People don’t see the world the way you do.

So, of course, you're observant, and of course, you've noticed the guy whose apartment is right across from yours. You always see him at night with his balcony light on. You like to sit on your couch and watch his shadow through the curtains. More than anything, you like taking pictures of his shadow—or sometimes of him when he peeks out. Though you fear getting caught, so you pretend to be watching TV.

You have a little crush on this stranger, someone you've never met but who owns a significant part of your camera’s memory. The little you know about him is that he's a young man, probably around your age. He also seems to work out—judging by his muscles—and he's very attractive, or at least that's what you notice when you zoom in. Once, you took a picture of his shadow doing a handstand. A gymnast, perhaps?

Unfortunately, tonight, the balcony light is off, which means the guy isn't home. But there's a silhouette on the rooftop of the building. A silhouette that is instantly recognizable if you watch the news. It's Nightwing, looking out over the horizon.

You quickly grab your camera and snap a picture of the moment. But the flash, combined with the shutter sound, gives you away. Shit.

Nightwing hears the sound of your camera. It’s a quiet night in an even quieter area, so of course, he notices the only sound that isn't a car engine. He turns with curiosity and notices your lit balcony. Oh, of course—the photographer girl.

He's known about you for a while. His balcony is directly across from yours, and at night, you usually leave it open until it's time for bed. He couldn't help but observe you—especially when you think he's not home and you’re engrossed in a book or the TV. Though, he also enjoys that you take pictures of him. Sometimes, he even poses for you. He wonders if you've noticed.

You're adorable and amusing. You're embarrassed because he's looking at you from the rooftop, and he can’t help but smile at the sight. And then, an idea comes to him

Approaching you as Dick Grayson feels strange. He never finds the right moment, and he doesn’t know how to force an encounter without making it weird. But as Nightwing? Well... you just took a picture of him without his consent. He can use that as an excuse to confront you—and hear your voice for the first time.

He can also be bold—very bold. He can flirt with you and feel no shame because he's Nightwing. If you don’t like Nightwing, then he’ll know exactly what not to do when you meet Dick Grayson.

When you glance back at the rooftop, you notice the vigilante is gone. Did you scare him off? What a bad first impression.

You jump in surprise when someone lands on your balcony.

"Oops… I didn't mean to scare you." Nightwing himself says with a mischievous smile, absorbing every micro-expression or gesture through his eyes, hidden behind his domino mask.

Your face shows nothing but shock, but your eyes also reveal a hint of curiosity. That’s good for Nightwing.

"I noticed you took a picture of me. Can I see it?"

That simple question was all it took to start a kind of friendship.

Over the next few weeks, Nightwing would land on your balcony, sit on your couch, and look through your photos. Each week, he sat a little closer. And over time, he started coming into your apartment to talk about his adventures and listen to you talk about your life. Sometimes, he even stayed for dinner, waiting until you fell asleep before returning to his apartment.

Nightwing had become your best friend. But Dick Grayson was still the unknown neighbor you loved to photograph. And he wanted to change that.

One normal day at your studio, a tall man with black hair and blue eyes walks through the door, asking if you could take photos for his driver's license. You tell him of course, and that you have an open slot right now. So, you take him to the white backdrop. The photo-taking part was quick. It was the printing process that took longer—giving the man plenty of time to start a conversation.

"You live near that street? Haha, what a coincidence, so do I. We might be neighbors," he jokes

The guy—Dick, if you remembered correctly—turned out to be right. (Of course, nothing about the conversation he had with you was accidental.) After that session, you started seeing him more often. When you bought bread, when you left early for the studio…

One day, he asked for your number. And later that same day, you discovered that he was, in fact, the neighbor who occupied most of your camera’s memory. The other part, of course, was occupied by Nightwing.

So now, you had made two friends who loved your passion for photography. They made the same jokes and loved to flirt with you. It didn’t take you long to realize they weren’t different people—but the same person.

Dick was happy that you figured it out on your own. But you were afraid to tell him about your discovery. Aww, no need to worry.

Another normal night. Dick Grayson lands on your balcony, scaring you—just like he did when he first appeared as Nightwing months ago.

He knows that you know, but he doesn’t address it. He simply acts like it’s the normal routine you’ve both grown used to. And you have no choice but to play along.

He gets closer—closer in every way you can think of. Dick Grayson becomes a constant in your life. You see him everywhere. He’s in your home almost all the time. Now, he even stays the night, leaving clothes behind so he doesn’t have to go back to his apartment after patrols. (Even though his apartment is literally next to yours—clearly just an excuse to stay with you.)

You admit it—you enjoy his company. You enjoy his attention. And most of all, you enjoy his obsession.

You’re the first one to kiss him. And he’s thrilled—because this means you love him just as much as he loves you.

If the secret photos hadn’t already given it away—you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you.

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

I hope the ending doesn't look too rushed, I was trying to finish this and out of nowhere I stopped listening out of my left ear so I tried to finish it while panicking lmao.