#and I was like WHAT IF THAT WAS A CAT INSTEAD

[bruciemilf]

Bruce truly hates magic with every pump and beat of his heart.

What kinda curse is Slang, anyway?

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Bro really thought he ate with that.” Bruce physically feels a full body shiver, charged with nausea and cringe. “This is level 10 cringe. Can’t have shit in Gotham.”

Dick is his earth bound angel, but he laughs like a demon at him, holding onto Jason for support, pledging his eternal loyalty to Zatana and her pettiness.

—

“Hey, old bat, hook me up with an adrenaline shot.”

What he wants to say is Jay, do not try and fight with 6 bullets in your stomach.

What comes out instead, through Bruce’s grit teeth and intense, fierce glaring, “Not you trying to go back to your corpse era. See how I only took 2 shots? Very demure. Very mindful.”

Jason passes out from blood loss, but mostly laughter.

—

“Chat, is this real?”

Stephanie barely bites back a full belly cackle. “I think he just asked us if we copied.”

“I wish I was Jason, 15.”

—

“This is not a slay environment. Killing is flop behavior.” He keeps his eyes shut and buries his face in his hands. Trying to convince Damian not to stab someone doesn’t seem to work.

Damian gives him a pat like he’s a pitiful cat. “I’ll only stab the non lethal areas.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

[necronatron]

LITERALLY. Bro if I meet some kids, I'll treat them like people. And they're so happy about that. I think I ran into a 9 yo or something going back from tennis practice and he was like "? what is this" when he saw me putting cat food onto the railing of the bridge. And I said "oh it's for the crows" and he perked up so much, started talking to me about birds he would feed, and he said "wow great job" to ME when I mentioned my huge group of pigeons I feed and the crows who follow me.

And I think if we treated kids like actual people instead of "inferiors" or "trophies", maybe they'd be more comfortable and feel safe around adults to tell them about their problems AND run to them in case of child predators.

I think a big reason why "children are an oppressed group" gets (wrongly!) read as a "pedophile talking point" is that everyone treats children so terribly that actual child molesters can speedrun winning a kid's trust by like, actually respecting their needs and perspective, at least at first. Which means that the only way out of this mess is for all of us adults to treat children with respect, so that abusers can't use the rareness of that respect as a weapon.

[tojisun]

I would like to humbly more soup

(The one with detached reader and traumatized Simon that blurb was so tasty and ONLY only if you have the spoons for it ♡)

i have a ladle so have this

they share a cig together; it’s not even from simon. he found it in the drawers in their bedroom, stashed underneath a couple of CD’s that are only encased in paper folders. it’s an old pack with only four sticks left and they’re not even the potent kind, and simon realizes, then, that they have been hidden so carefully.

he purposefully lays them on the kitchen table, after dinner, to watch how she’ll react. it is, after all, still a breach of her privacy; that, sure, she opened her home to him but he knows, all too well, that there are certain corners in every house that are never meant to be prodded — apparitions made from memories live along too, and simon knows to be careful lest he rouses a nightmare from its burrow. he knows. he knows. still, he thinks about what he can coax from her, and chances it with the shadows.

but she just blinks at it, her eyes flicking between simon and the pack, slowly and cat-like, before heaving a sigh and reaching for her lighter in her pockets. simon hums, something low and curling with a quiet wash of disappointment at her impassivity, and moves to take a stick out from the pack, only—

a twitch in her fingers. a slight pause in her movements. a crack in the facade; a blip in her silence.

simon smells the blood in the water and pounces on it with snapping maws. he grins, careful, and utters, “y’don’t like it that i found them.”

he doesn’t need to ask when it is obvious that it is true.

she licks her lips, eyes meeting his, and simon wants to commend the way she was quick to gather her spillage and force it back in her mask, but her hands are still quaking, and her fingertips have turned light with how hard they are pinching the lighter, and simon knows that he’s won this one.

she knows it too. he sees it in the way she takes a ragged breath in; in her continued silence.

“they’re my mom’s.”

her voice doesn’t waver, it doesn’t break. it rings clear, like he just asked her what the weather was and she knows it is raining outside because when does the rain ever stop? but she is no longer looking at him, and simon—

he knows enough about the apparitions made from memories and pulls his hand away.

“i see.”

simon wonders if it’ll look too much like he’s licking the wound of his shame if he offers his pack instead, but in the silence of his words, as his own memories unfurl like miasma, she lights up one.

he devours the image she makes — the quiet ember flickering across her face, now smoothed off any storm — when she takes a puff. he doesn’t look away even when she passes the stick to him; doesn’t look away even when it is his turn to breathe it in, and for his patience, he is rewarded the sweet image of the smoke spilling from her lips as she collapses back to her seat with a soft upturning of her lips.

and, somehow, the night isn’t over even when they’ve finished the pack.

simon knows that this is the true victory.

[kashverse]

hihi another request, can you do one where babykuna is spending a day with her uncle choso? it could be anything really, go to a park or play salon or baking or painting or even play dress-up! i could see choso making a custom matching outfits and kunapapa is just jealous he doesn't have a matching outfit with his baby girl.

thank youuu <3

if there is one thing choso understands in his line of work as uncle "chocho" to babykuna, it’s that every single day is a grind. not just in the business sense—no, no, no. this is the real world, where survival depends on working hard and playing harder.

and by "playing harder," he means getting absolutely swindled at the mall by a six-year-old and her unhinged ideas.

in the span of 24 hours, babykuna and choso now have:

matching deftones t-shirts—except the album cover of ‘around the fur’ has been horrifically swapped out with a 0.5x picture of babykuna's face, making her look like a cryptid mid-screech.

matching temporary tattoos—$20 per spray-on tattoo, an absolute scam, but babykuna had sparkly eyes when she picked out the designs, so what was he supposed to do? say no? ridiculous.

freshly painted nails—babykuna’s nails were pink with tiny skull stickers; choso’s were black with glitter. because, in her words, “you need to be sparkly and scary, uncle chocho.”

choso had just accepted his fate, proudly wearing his t-shirt and admiring his nails, when they walked through the front door.

enter sukuna.

sukuna, who had one expectation when his brother babysat his kid: to not be personally attacked by what he sees when he gets home. instead, he’s greeted by his daughter parading her new drip and his brother-in-law looking like a deftones fan who got lost in the hello kitty section of a hot topic.

“what. the. fuck.”

babykuna threw her arms up. "PAPA! LOOK!" she twirled around, showing off her custom t-shirt with her own terrifyingly distorted face. “we MATCH!” sukuna’s eye twitched. "oh, do you? huh. isn't that nice. isn't that—ABSOLUTELY UNFAIR."

choso blinked. "uh."

sukuna gestured wildly at babykuna, then back at choso, then back at babykuna. "why do you match with ‘chocho’ but not me?!"

babykuna gasped. “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!” choso, sensing danger, took a defensive step back. “listen, man, she—”

"shut up, choso. shut the fuck up, choso." sukuna rubbed his temples, betrayed. "first, my own daughter—MY OWN DAUGHTER—matches with my dumbass brother before me, and now you’re telling me that i’m the only one without a stupid ass t-shirt?!"

babykuna, to her credit, looked genuinely apologetic. “papa… i can make you one too?” sukuna sighed dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. "oh, now i get a t-shirt. now."

babykuna nodded earnestly. "yes! with an ugly picture of you, just like me!"

choso let out a quiet snort. big mistake.

sukuna turned to him immediately. “what the hell are you laughing at, you glittery dumbass?” choso, who now regretted his entire day at the mall, cleared his throat. “...nothing.”

sukuna exhaled through his nose, like an aggressive bull preparing to charge. "where’s baby? at least he wouldn’t betray me like this."

that was when baby the orange tabby casually walked by, decked out in a tiny version of babykuna and choso’s t-shirts, tail flicking behind him like a king among peasants. sukuna's soul left his body.

"YOU DRAGGED THE CAT INTO THIS?!"

[biscuitdetective]

When I was in year 4 primary, every time we had a creative writing task I would find a way to make it about my cat OC who was called Scampey (he was an alley cat with ripped ears, but versatile enough that he could be both in universes where he was cat and humans existed, or universes where everyone was a talking cat). To me, these tasks were just writing prompts to expand on the Scampey’s Extended Universe. If the prompt was to write about someone overcoming a problem, it would be about Scampey figuring out how to outsmart a stray dog. If the prompt was someone’s first day of school, Scampey went to school now. I loved these tasks but my teacher hated that I did this. She was a very old fashioned woman who was frequently accusing me of causing trouble on purpose (when I was really just Being an Autistic Child), but something about the idea of talking animals really aggravated her for some reason. At first she’d say stuff like ‘would you like to write about someone OTHER than Scampey this time’, to which of course I’d be like ‘Nah that’s ok I like Scampey! :D’

I distinctly remember she set a writing task where the main character had to be a piece of material and we would write about how they were made into a product and I am 100% certain she did this because she didn’t want me to make it about Scampey. She was VERY SMUG about this task and I remember how much her face fell when she read my story about a piece of leather being made into a shoe which then got sold in a shoe shop and then lost and thrown out with the trash where it ended up in an alley to meet Scampey The Alley Cat and they became friends. After that, she warned me if I write one more story with Scampey, she would give me detention. She set another writing task, I forget what it even was, and so I innocently wrote a story about Scampey’s best friend Stacey instead (another alley cat).

The teacher called my mother about this, telling her (we still laugh about this) that there was clearly something wrong with me and I was either creatively stunted or deliberately trying to piss her off because all I ever wrote about was talking cats instead of humans like a normal person. My mums response was basically ‘idk what the problem is. I think that’s creative. I like Scampey.’

I think the thing that annoyed me the most about this was that almost every single other kid in the class just made themselves the main character in every single one of these stories except the product one, but they were never called uncreative (or threatened with detention)

what's the most demented thing you guys got in trouble for in school mine was when an english boy in my class made fun of my name and called my mum a (derogatory word for irish travellers) so i told him my ira uncle was in town and was coming to blow him up after school

[00valentina-writes00]

♡♥︎Say Cheese, Tough Guy♥︎♡

Warnings: being put in a chokehold, being thirsty over sevika’s bicep.

Sevika is sitting at the worn-out bar in your shared apartment, a cigar resting between her fingers, the smoke curling toward the ceiling in lazy spirals. She looks half-distracted, her chemtech arm humming softly as she flexes her fingers, the faint glow of shimmer pulsing beneath the metal plates.

You’re perched on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when an idea strikes you—an absolutely stupid, ridiculous idea. But, naturally, it’s the kind of idea you have to go through with.

You glance up at Sevika, who’s still lost in thought, and casually say, “Hey, can you put me in a headlock?”

Her brows furrow immediately, her grey eyes flicking toward you with a look of pure skepticism. “What?”

You hold up your phone. “I wanna take a picture.”

She exhales sharply, shaking her head. “A picture of me choking you out?”

“Not choking me out,” you clarify, scooting closer to her at the bar, resting your elbows against the wooden surface. “Just… y’know. A light headlock. Show off those big, strong arms.” You flutter your eyelashes at her for dramatic effect.

Sevika gives you a look like she’s debating whether to laugh or throw you over her shoulder and actually put you in a headlock.

“No.”

You pout. “Why not?”

“Because it’s dumb.”

“That’s what makes it funny!”

She grunts, leaning back slightly, taking another slow drag from her cigar before exhaling through her nose. “No.”

You huff, dramatically slumping over the counter. “You never let me have fun.”

“I let you do plenty of stupid shit,” she counters. “Just last week, you made me try on your stupid little sunglasses. What were they called?”

“Cat eyes,” you mumble, fighting a smirk.

“Yeah. And I looked ridiculous.”

“You looked hot,” you argue.

She exhales, rubbing a hand down her face, her calloused fingers dragging over her stubble. “Why do you even want this picture?”

“Because your arms are sexy,” you say, deadpan. “And I want to document them.”

Sevika squints at you like she’s trying to gauge whether or not you’re actually serious (you are), before grumbling something under her breath. Then, finally, she sets her cigar down in the ashtray and tilts her head toward you.

“Fine. Get over here.”

Your heart leaps as you scramble off the couch, practically bouncing toward her. “Hell yeah.”

She sighs like she regrets every choice that led to this moment but still spreads her legs to let you step between them. She’s always warm, her body radiating heat, and when she lifts her left arm, you can see the way the muscle flexes beneath her shirt.

She wraps it around your neck—not too tight, just firm enough to hold you there—and instantly, you feel a lot smaller than you already are compared to her.

“Happy now?” she grumbles.

You angle your phone, making sure to get her bicep in the frame, the way it bulges as it rests against your jaw. You snap a couple of pictures, grinning like an idiot. “Very.”

“You’re such a menace.”

“And you love me,” you remind her, slipping your free hand around her waist, squeezing her side affectionately.

“Tch.”

You take one last picture before lowering your phone and leaning into her just a little, resting your weight against her broad frame. “This is actually kinda cozy.”

Sevika chuckles, low and deep, her chest vibrating against you. “You wanna take a nap like this now?”

“Maybe,” you say, nuzzling against her bicep. “You’re surprisingly comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” She flexes slightly, making the muscle beneath your cheek shift. “I could crush you.”

“And yet you don’t,” you hum, pressing a quick kiss against her skin. “Because you’re soft for me.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. Instead, her grip loosens just enough for you to turn and meet her gaze.

“You done?” she asks, arching a brow.

You glance down at your phone, admiring the pictures for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t let you go just yet. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, her eyes flicking to your lips.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she mutters before leaning in, capturing your mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss.

You hum against her lips, smiling into it. “Lucky, huh?”

She nips at your bottom lip in warning. “Don’t push it.”

You push it anyway. “Can I make this my lock screen?”

She groans. “Get outta here.”

You laugh, slipping out of her hold but not before stealing another kiss.

[max-nicoxfandom]

DCXDP - Danny is a flerken, this causes Dick a lot of concern

Dick doesn't like Damian's new cat, or everyone thinks it's a cat, at least. It's kinda big for the size of a regular house cat, and it's whole body is like a weird trippy illusion; black with blue eyes one moment, white with green the next.

Damian claims he just picked it up off the street, and he's overall utterly unperturbed with the cat. According to him the thing was probably some sort of escaped lab experiment, and he is determined to figure out who was testing so inhumanely on animals. May God have mercy on their souls when that boy reaches them.

No one in the family quite likes the cat, except Damian, obviously.

The animal just has a way of sneaking into where it's not supposed to. It's always watching. Always just around the corner. Always at the exact place you don't want it to be at that exact moment.

Tim in particular is very annoyed by the cat. He likes to sit on Tim's paperwork, press buttons on his computer, and stick his face in Tim's coffee. The cat actively makes Tim's life harder whenever it gets the chance. Damian finds this to be the best form of comedy, because he is a little menace(lovingly).

Dick thinks he has it the worst with the cat overall though. Why? Because no one believes him about this stupid animal. Sure, they all agree that the cat is fucking weird, at the very least it's more sapient than a cat should be, but that's as far as they take it.

Not Dick.

Dick managed to sneak up on it once, and only once, and has never even attempted again. He just wanted to get back at the creature after it spent all day tripping him as he walked down the halls. It was harmless! Honestly, he just expected the cat to jump, maybe hiss, and skitter away for the rest of the day.

Instead the cat whirled around and opened its jaw so wide Dick swears its chin began to grace the floor, and then glowing green tentacles came out! They latched around his arms, covered his nose and mouth, and began to pull him into the tooth filled abyss of its jaws.

He felt the life in him leave before he was even half way pulled in. The fight slowly began to drain out of him, and the room was getting so so cold. Dick really thought this was how he was going to die, via his baby brother's freaky ass cat.

And then Damian's voice rang out, sharp and firm, simply calling the name of his cat lovingly dubbed "Phantom". The name Dick gave him, actually, because the cat travelled around the house like a ghost. Damian is the one who decided the name ghost was too childish, and thus, Phantom came about.

Damian arrived to him laying on the floor, Phantom on top of his chest purring away, as if the thing didn't try to consume him mere moments ago.

"Lying on the floor is quite unbecoming of you, Richard. However, since you are bonding with Phantom, I will let it slide."

And then Damian picked up the cat, tucked it into his chest, and walked back to where he came from.

When talking to Damian about the event later, he just looked at him like he was stupid. Tim said the cameras had shorted out (something that had been happening a lot recently), and he had no clue what Dick was talking about. Bruce and Alfred both advised him to seek mental help, believing him to be stress hallucinating. He didn't even bother telling the others.

So yeah, Dick doesn't like Damian's cat monster. He doesn't want to hurt his baby brother's feelings, but it can't stay.

Will be reblogging with more, eventually, other people's additions are VERY welcome

[solariex]

silly red dancing gif i made !! :3

originally i was gonna add cat headphones, because it was based off someone sending red music recommendations on the red askblog (cough cough @kittycatred sorry self promo) but its literally 5am as im typing this so i didnt feel like adding that right now :,) also i realized after making this that it looks VERY similar to this by starrypawu and that was purely by accident oops!! i think i got unintentionally inspired though so im linking it just in case for credit !! :D also timelapse ?? speedpaint ?? (whatever its called for animation lmao) below !! !! FLASH WARNING !! THOUGH cause i flip the canvas ALOT and switch frames alot and its sped up !! (also ignore the timeeee....ignore the time....shhhh i wasnt up until 5am at all....)

its 3 minutes long but i sped it up AS MUCH AS I COULD sorry its like 5 hrs of footage originally so thats why </3

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

See you soon

hey guys warning this chapter literally has none of the batfam here its highlighting reader being insterted into itsv-atsv

It has been a year since you had gotten bitten.

You were now 14

Since then you've lost a couple of people.

Your Gwen Stacy, who was instead named [REDACTED], was killed while you were trying to stop the green goblin.

You lost an officer you were close to. He died while protecting a kid.

You lost someone you considered an uncle.

You were tired.

Since then you've been training yourself, secretly fighting crime to not be seen by your family, and getting stronger in general.

Every day was sortve the same. Wake up, get ready, go to school, come home, eat, fight crime, sleep, repeat.

It all changed one day.

You had just gotten back from patrol.

You stopped 3 muggings and saved a cat from a tree.It was a slow day, thankfully.

You were doing your homework peacefully.

You were almost done with your algebra homework when suddenly a portal popped up right next to you.

You couldn't process anything as the portal sucked you up and took you in.

The next thing you knew, you were stuck in an alternate universe with other versions of you.

And you had to get home soon ASAP no rocky if you didn't wanna die.

And that be all fine and dandy.

Except you didn't wanna get attached to anyone.

You didn't want them to exclude you and you to follow them around like a lost puppy like you did with your family.

And guess what?

You did get attached.

Peni, a small kid who was in a tiny robot fighting, was like a little sister to you.

Peter B. Parker, ham, and Noir were all like uncles to you.

gwen and Miles were your cool older siblings.

You loved them.

And you hated that.

Because you knew deep down, you wouldn't get to see each other again.

You all were destined to be apart, due to your separate universes.

You got attached.

You were attached to noir and how his coat smelled like cigarettes and milkshakes.

You were attached to Ham and how he always cracked jokes when things got tense and awkward.

You were attached to peter b and how he talked about his past experiences.

You got attached to Peni and how she would use stickers everywhere.

You got attached to Miles and how stupidly awkward he was with Gwen.

You got attached to Gwen and how she gave you the advice you always needed.

Fuck.

You didn't wanna go back to the manor.

This is the happiest you've been in a while.

This is home.

You can go on patrol here without worrying that your family might see you.

You are constantly smiling and laughing with the people here.

You're constantly wishing you could stay here forever.

Other than the constantly painful glitching, you're so happy and excited.

You never wanna leave.

You were so proud of Miles and how he got everyone home.

You cried as soon as you landed back in your room.

You sobbed into your pillow. You're gonna miss them.

No one even noticed you were gone for a week.

No one noticed how bruised up you were.

No one noticed how sad you looked.

It's been 5 months since then.

You got invited to join the Spider Society.

Miguel saw you on patrol trying to fight an anomaly and failing miserably due to you never fully getting actual training.

You were trying! It's just that you didn't want your family to see you so its sort of hard to control a whole glitching green goblin...

Miguel took you into the spider society.

You saw peter b in Miguel's office and immediately tackled him into a hug and cried a little.

You learned that due to being a mix of two multiverses (Marvel and DC) your canon events were a tiny bit messed up.

Miguel explained everything, but everything was going through one ear and out the other.

You wondered if the others were here too.

You wondered if they missed you like you missed them.

Miguel could see how spaced out you were.

"What's wrong, Mija?"

"Are the others here? Like Gwen, Miles, ham, noir, and Peni? I know Peter's here, I saw him just now, but what about the others?"

He went on to explain how they hadn't been invited yet.

Later on, you begged him to at least invite Peni.

He couldn't resist your puppy dog eyes, so he said yes.

Since being introduced into society, you've slowly started getting used to just doing everything here.

You would go into Miguel's office for hours and hours just to be around him.

He was like the father you always wanted!

He would listen to you complain about your family, and he would always lend a shoulder to cry on.

On multiple occasions, he had to carry you back to your bed in your universe because you'd fall asleep in his office on the floor.

You both have gotten close.

Miguel was your emergency contact, always there when you needed him. Despite his intimidating appearance to others, he was never scary to you.

At one point you saw Gwen again, finally!

You were so happy! one step closer to getting everyone together again!

Slowly, you saw everyone again.

..Everyone except Miles.

You didn't understand, why not Miles?

You asked Miguel and he went on a tangent that did not make sense and went through one ear and out the other.

You did get to meet Pavitr and Hobie.

Pavitr was your twin! You guys had similar personalities and had twin telepathy.

You both were around the same age and everything!

Hobie is SO COOL!

He taught you how to play your guitar! You were finally getting a hang of it!

He was like the older brother you never had!

You wanted to be like him so bad!

When he and Gwen jokingly said they wanted to start a band, you wanted to!

A couple of months later, you saw miles again!

It wasn't in the best circumstances.

You had just gotten back from school. You were in your room scrolling on your phone, when suddenly your spidey senses tingled.

You saw Gwen hop out of a portal in the middle of your room.

"Hey! I kinda sort of need your help."

"what's going on?" you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

Gwen went on to explain everything you missed.

From Gwen seeing miles to Miles tagging along onto Mamhatten in pavers universe, and then to Miguel's body slamming him into a train and calling everyone to chase him.

Jeez, you don't go to the society for one day and everything goes to shit.

You thought about it for a second, no one would notice you not being here for a couple of days, right?

"..alright, I've saved the multiverse once, I can do it again."

You sat up on your bed and grabbed your suit.

You grabbed Gwen's arm as she took you to a whole other universe.

After a lot of fighting, you all managed to save Miles's dad.

Seeing their family be happy together made you tear up in happiness.

They deserved to be happy.

After a lot of apologies from all parties, everything was still pretty awkward.

You've probably apologized to Miles over a million times despite him insisting it wasn't your fault.

Sure, you didn't help the others chase him, but you still didn't tell him about society.

Hell, you should've been there to defend him.

You should yelled at Miguel from the beginning over him not letting Miles in his exclusive clubhouse.

Instead, you were scared Miguel was gonna bring you back to the manor and disown you, even if you knew he would never do that to you.

You should've stood by miles from the start.

It's never too late to make up for everything.

oml this was kinda boring but i needed filler lol

honestly i might write a oneshot of all the spiderkids together

taglist (please tell me if i forgot to tag you!):

@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla

[darkluminosity]

Crazy about Diluc and Eula rn so I wanted to do this... link behind the cut since it's a lot 🙃

1. Tough to say, they both do in my hc but I feel like she's more likely to initiate the hugs and he initiates the kisses 😉

2. I think they both do tbh lol. Maybe she does a bit more (at least in my current wip)

3. Eula would borrow Diluc's, I think he's more organized

4. I feel like she would for the reasons above, maybe if she was drinking and misplaced them?

5. Hm this is actually a bit tough because although he's rich and owns a winery, it was inherited so idk if he was taught money management, especially because he has others run it for him. But I feel both of them are fairly responsible.

6. Well, Diluc's parents... yeah they're not around anymore and idk about Eula's. I feel if anything she would take either extreme, either hiding it because she doesn't want to ruin his reputation by others knowing he's dating a Lawrence, or she would utilize their relationship to get back at her clan (and in part of my hcs, get rid of her association with her clan and break apart from them). But the latter would be after they talk it through and he assures her he doesn't care about it. I don't think he would want to hide it. If anything it would take him off of the bachelor market which I think he'd be happy about lol.

7. I actually think he'd be better in the kitchen overall (especially taking lessons from Adelinde if he is willing to learn) BUT as it stands his signature dish is literally a version of Pile 'Em Up which is throwing ingredients on top of each other? Compared to her signature dish, an upgraded version of Moon Pie, I think her signature dish beats his in terms of complexity. But for everyday cooking, probably him.

8. She gets more sleep but he needs more sleep lol 😂

9. They're both serious about their duties and work, but I feel he's a little more hardworking. Not that she isn't, but I think she knows her boundaries and limits more- he's constantly pushing his limits (and working as the Dark Night Hero doesn't exactly have a strict schedule if you know what I mean)

10. She has more empathy... I think 🤔 idk sometimes he can surprise others, it's just others find him hard to read. But I think he has the capacity for empathy too, he just doesn't communicate it openly very much.

11. A cat (hmm this gives me ideas) or she becomes attached to his falcon, they can write letters to each other and send them back and forth (aww 🥰)

12. Eula

13. His is acts of service and quality time, and hers is physical touch and quality time

14. I don't think they would keep secrets from each other intentionally, but there are certain things in Diluc's past that he probably wouldn't want to mention to her, and stuff he knows about Kaeya. Maybe if she asked him (about his past) but I don't think he would readily share it.

15. Neither, but I think as I alluded to in #6, Eula might not feel she deserves him so she might push him away and tell him he deserves better. At least in versions of hc where she has a lower self image and some insecurities. Who knows, he could even say the same to her because of his past if she ever found out 🤷🏻‍♀️

16. Diluc (lol my husband thinks Eula would be a terrible mom 🤐 he said it and he's the Eula main lol)

17. Eula (lol I did a short fic idea of this after chapter 18 of Fighting Winter but never posted it, where they talked after waking up and he's like why were you moaning in your sleep and making noises... and she's like uhh,I was? but she was thinking omg I want to run away in shame lol and instead tries to change the subject 🤣)

OTP questions:

Who initiates hugs?

Who wants to hold the hug longer?

Who borrows the other one’s phone charger?

Who loses their keys/wallet?

Who’s better with money?

Who tried to hide the relationship from their parents?

Who’s better in the kitchen?

Who needs/gets more sleep?

Who’s more laid back and who’s more hard working?

Who has more empathy?

If they were to adopt a pet together, what kind of pet would it be?

Who is more outgoing?

What is their love language?

Are they holding any secrets from each other?

Which one is more likely to cheat?

Which one first brings up the idea of having kids?

Who sleeptalks?

[pomegranatelifethis]

Porcelain Doll

**English is not my native language**

WARNING: THERE IS RAPE, I MARKED THAT, YOU CAN GO WITHOUT READING. DISTURBING ELEMENTS

(A Neglected!Reader x Batfam Story)

In the beginning, Wayne Manor echoed with her laughter. He was someone who filled every room he entered with his light. He made little jokes, tried to make everyone laugh with his cheerful laughter, and said good morning to everyone one by one every morning.

He enjoyed sneaking sugar into Tim's coffee and watching the surprised expression on his face. He would applaud Dick's cool moves while training, and try to provoke Jason by arguing about the books he was reading. Despite Damian's harsh demeanor, she would try to break through the wall between them and talk about things that would interest him—Titus or cats, for example.

As for Bruce... He would always look for an opportunity to call him "Dad", but every time the words got stuck in his throat. Instead, he would sit quietly next to her, sometimes bringing her coffee with a small smile.

But nothing found a response.

At first he tried not to notice. "Maybe they're too busy," he thought. After all, they were all heroes. They lived in a city like Gotham and had responsibilities. So he decided to show himself more and make more effort.

But over time, everything became more and more obvious.

Every "I'm busy now" turned into an endless silence over time.

Every "we'll talk later" became promises that never happened again.

At one point, Dick stopped hearing his voice. Jason stopped laughing at his jokes. Even though Tim was exhausted before his eyes, he didn't even ask him once, "Are you okay?" he didn't ask. Damian didn't even seem to tolerate his presence.

But what hurt the most was Bruce.

When he tried to hug her, Bruce would just shake his head slightly and walk past her. Even when there was a problem, he always consulted others instead of listening to her thoughts. At some point, he just started to feel like a part of the wall—a shadow that existed but went unnoticed.

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he laughed, no matter how much he talked... When he realized that it didn't make a difference to them, the light inside him began to fade.

And then, tragedy struck.

No one knew exactly what happened that night. Maybe he had an argument with someone, maybe he was in the middle of a fight. Maybe they didn't even realize someone had hurt him.

But as he left the house that night, the last spark of hope that still burned within him flickered and went out like a candle flame.

When he came back in the morning, he was still the same person—but also completely different.

After that moment, their conversations decreased. Their smiles disappeared.

When Tim looked at him for hours, he no longer made the same fun comments. When Jason made a joke, he didn't even react. No matter how hard Dick tried, he couldn't make him laugh. Even when Damian got angry, he didn't look up.

And Bruce… Even when he realized something was wrong, it was too late.

His eyes were empty, his soul seemed to be lost in a void. It was as if there were no emotions left inside him.

She was just a porcelain doll now. Cold, silent and numb.

And you know what was the worst?

No one remembered when it broke

Porcelain Doll

November 11 – The Day It Broke

Everything started out ordinary that day.

He woke up early in the morning and helped Alfred, who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. At that moment, he heard Damian and Tim arguing in the living room and noticed Jason tinkering with his motorcycle in the garage. Bruce was in his study, studying the reports, his eyes narrowed with fatigue.

He tried to approach everyone, as always, preserving the endless energy and joy within him.

He interrupted Damian and Tim's argument, maybe if he made a joke the atmosphere would soften. But Damian glared at him.

“There is no place for unnecessary people here.”

These words hit him like a sharp knife, and for a moment he felt like he couldn't breathe. The smile that fell on his face faded, but he tried to recover. He had hoped Tim would at least defend him, but Tim just sighed and continued talking.

He didn't say anything. He felt like there was something extra there, but he still remained silent.

When he met Dick in the kitchen, he put a big smile on his face.

“Dick! Shall we do something today?”

But Dick's answer was just a smile. “Then, okay?”

When?

Later. Always later.

Everyone had a job. Everyone had a priority.

And he was never among those priorities.

But what hurt him the most was Bruce.

When evening came, he went to her study. Maybe he could at least talk to her for a few minutes. When he knocked on the door, Bruce's voice was heard from inside.

“I'm busy.”

He swallowed. But he didn't give up.

“Dad… Can we just talk for a minute? It won't take long, I promise.”

Silence.

Then he heard his chair creak slightly. Bruce's cold voice echoed again:

“I'm really busy right now. Please come back later.”

Later.

Again?

He walked away, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

That night, no one at the mansion noticed him leaving quietly.

No one knew he was walking alone through the dark streets of Gotham.

No one knew that he felt that it made no difference whether he existed or not in this world that no longer meant anything to him.

And no one found out what happened to him. But you will learn, let's find out what happened

That night, when he left the mansion, no one noticed anything. He silently closed the door and lost his steps in the dark streets. When Gotham's night darkness combined with the feeling of loneliness, everything became even deeper. The weather was cold and the wind was harsh, but the emptiness inside was colder.

A void inside him felt like nothing made any sense anymore. No one looked at him, no one understood what he felt. In this darkness, he didn't have to prove anything to anyone.

The streets embraced him like the dark corners of Gotham. He walked slowly, his steps so light that he could not even hear himself. But then, that darkness came closer to him, deepening the emptiness within him.

Suddenly, there was something he noticed with his eyes—figures blending into the shadows. They moved so fast that he couldn't quite understand what was happening. He didn't want to face them even for a moment with his eyes. But it was too late.

Suddenly, he felt a cold touch on his back. He tried to turn back, but someone grabbed his arms hard. It was done so suddenly and harshly that he was thrown off before he even had a chance to do anything. His face hit the ground and his arms and legs curled up. Everything was blurred, he felt a cold, but painful warmth enveloping his body.

For a few minutes he tried to understand what was happening. The fear inside him only prevented him from hearing the voices. Hands continued to wrap around his body. Everything became blurry for a moment.

When the voices stopped, his joy, which once shone like the light within him, was replaced by deep silence. There was nothing left in his mind. The darkness that night was a breaking point.

He stepped aside, emotionally frozen, despite not being aware of his own body and his hands shaking. That night, he broke in a way that no one else saw anymore. And it would never be the same again.

Telling what happened that night would make every word knot in his mouth. It was a reflection of the break, the pain, the lost joy. But there was something, no longer felt—losing oneself, not belonging to anyone or anything. It all ended with the person he once knew.

And that night, among the cold walls on the west side, no one ever understood what happened to him.

Flashback – The Night It Broke

The streets were dark.

Gotham was always dangerous, but he didn't care at the moment. There was such a big void inside him… He couldn't even feel what was dangerous anymore. His feet dragged him unconsciously from one street to another.

He was cold. But this coldness had penetrated not only his body but also his soul.

At one point, he realized someone was calling out to him. At first he didn't care. But then the steps became heavier. His eyes blurred.

When someone grabbed his arm, he instinctively pulled back. But the streets were silent, there was no escape.

When the touches became harder, he realized that moment.

Something inside him was screaming. He was thinking about the voice that echoed in the Batcave a few hours ago. That short answer Bruce gave him, Damian's disdainful look...

They didn't even know he was here.

And they wouldn't know.

He resisted. But he was tired, very tired.

He felt the hardness of the cold wall on his back. His breathing became irregular. Words didn't come out of his mouth. A pair of hands, then another...

**Those who are uncomfortable with the detailed scene should not read it, maybe I will remove it from the scene**

Without wasting any time, he slid your panties down your legs and forced his big dick into your dry, unprepared hole. it hurt. . It hurt so bad. You screamed and beat him, you raised your hands and tried to beat him with pathetic tears in your eyes, but it didn't work. nothing happened. He was so strong, so big, so muscular, and so desperate that he couldn't give up his relentless and unstrategic attacks. When your screams dried up, big tears flowed from your face. When you gave up and surrendered to the intruder, snot was running down your face. and god listened. He made a few more rough, sloppy thrusts, pushing the tip of his leaking dick towards your cervix, and the man was whining on top of you - filling your pussy with an overwhelming amount of sticky cum.

**Scene ended**

At that moment, his mind fell silent.

Everything fell silent.

The Next Morning – Return Home

When he returned, the moonlight illuminated the garden of the mansion.

He was disheveled, but no one noticed. His hair was disheveled, but no one looked. His face was expressionless, but no one questioned it.

Nobody asked anything.

And he didn't say anything either.

He just went into the bathroom. The water should have been hot, but his skin was numb. It was dirty. He was in a mess. No matter how much he rubbed it, no matter how long he stayed under water, it wouldn't go away.

He knew.

But he still didn't come out of the bathroom for hours.

That day, the last remaining humanity within him broke.

And it didn't belong to anyone anymore. Not to the Batfamily, not to Bruce, not to himself.

[salemrph]

The Taste of Romance (Valentine’s Day)

Summary: What was meant to be a quiet Valentine’s Day with Sylus, making chocolate together, takes a turn when a mission interrupts: chasing down Heartbreaker.

Character: Sylus & Reader

Genre: romantic, fluffy, slightly action

Word count: 5,572 | Reading Time: 22 min | AO3

A/N: After today's banner, I just had to release this, because it's pretty much what I was expecting, something like this: A cute mission hunting Heartbreaker, with a super romantic outcome. Making chocolate and decorating a cake. And kisses, lots of them.

 {Pop Candy Song BGM}

You spent the last day searching for a good recipe online, strolling through pastries and sweets shops in Linkon. On the kitty cat calendar display on the wall of your kitchen, February 14th is marked with a little heart in red. Well, it is actually tomorrow. This is your third attempt making chocolates this week. You have everything you need: a box, sugar pens and flowers, gift wrap, strawberry and tons of other decorations stuff. Your idea is to create a special box, for a special gentleman that stole your heart, soul and body. 

Somehow you keep messing up with portions, you follow the instructions step by step, but always something goes wrong. The milk is too hot, too much sugar… you feel a bit like Xavier trying to not burn down your place. The other attendants were interrupted by an urgent mission, or you managed to drop the bowl or put in salt instead of sugar. 

The caw of Mephisto, sitting on the microwave, is a signal to stir the mixture. The bird can be useful even during moments like this. Mephisto seems even happy to help you out. Is strange how well you get along with him. Sometimes he gets on your nerves, especially when he steals all the shiny items you have. But you like him, and it's just as fun as fighting with Luke and Kieran.This little crow family you've joined, despite their “evil” aura, are all good people. And no one can convince you otherwise. Come to thinking of it, maybe you should make choco popcake for the twins. Giving chocolate to the mechanical crow… You stare at Mephisto, who cocks his head in response to your piercing gaze. No… You shake your head. Not a good idea. 

The kitchen smelled of rich, melted chocolate, the warmth of it mixing with the familiar comfort of home. You had been carefully stirring the glossy mixture, completely absorbed in your task, when—

"What are you doing, sweetie?"

The deep sexy voice of your boyfriend makes you hitch. If you were a real cat you would have jumped, fur bristling and tail puffed in alarm. Surely hiding yourself on top of the kitchen cabinet. Although your Hunter senses are exceptional, being at home you usually lower your guard. Your heart jumps and you almost drop the bowl, again…

"I told you to stay out of the kitchen" you huffed, turning to glare at Sylus.

He leaned lazily against the counter, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but I didn’t agree to that. Besides, where should I hide in this small apartment?" 

“Why are you here in the first place? I told you I was busy” you hide the bowl behind your back. Actually the kitchen is a mess, opened packages of chocolates scattered across the counter, the strawberries you had bought are still in their cold water bath. You’re a good cook, decent at baking, but working with chocolate? That is another topic. For the occasion, when you were buying all your supplies for this mission, you bought yourself a very cute apron. Which you are wearing right now to prevent staining your outfit. Underneath it, you wear comfy shorts and a white t-shirt.

“A certain kitten ignored me all week, so I decided to drop by and spend some time with her.” His lips curve into a slow smirk. “But somehow, I ended up banned from the kitchen, and Mephisto got demoted to a kitchen clock.” His voice drips with mock offense, but the way he watches you, eyes sweeping over your domestic outfit examining you slowly from top to bottom… Tells you he’s more entertained than anything, the amusement literally dancing in his eyes.

The small apron snug around your waist and chest, the loose strands of hair slipping free from your high ponytail, the way your oversized t-shirt shifts when you fidget under his stare. You’re a mess. Flustered and completely unaware of just how lovely you look. Sylus smiles, noticing that you’re definitely not wearing a bra. It might just be his lucky day.

He exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer. His gaze moves to the bowl behind your back, curiosity flashing behind the red glowing eyes.

"So… what exactly are you doing?”

You meet his gaze with a sly smile, tilting your head just slightly. "I’m preparing poison."

His smirk deepened. "Poison? Sweetie, if you wanted to kill me, there are easier ways."

Before you could react, he stepped in, closing the distance in a way that made your pulse stutter. His body caged you against the counter, warmth radiating off him. His attention goes down to the spoon still in your hand, his fingers grazing your wrist as he tilted his head in amusement.

"What kind of poison will it be?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched, you felt a little nervous again but you held your ground. "The kind you can’t separate from normal food."

Sylus hummed. In a swift motion, he plucked the spoon from your grasp, bringing it to his lips without breaking eye contact. His tongue flicked against the chocolate before he tasted it, a low, satisfied hum vibrating in his throat.

"Hmm… dangerous" he mused, licking the remnants from the spoon. Your stomach flipped, heat rising to your cheeks as his free hand settled on your waist. "Should I be worried, sweetie?" he teased, his lips dangerously close to yours, chocolate lingering on his breath.

“Always" you whispered, barely able to focus with the way he was looking at you. Sylus laughed softly, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist as he leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against yours—just enough to make you chase the touch.

He lifts you onto the counter, his smirk never fading as he leans in, his lips still hovering, teasing you. Just as you think he'll kiss you, he pulls back, holding up the spoon coated with the last traces of chocolate.

“Lick” he ordered softly. You hesitate, eyes flickering between the spoon and his glowing red eyes. “For poison, it tastes good” he jokes. 

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly drag your tongue along the spoon, savoring the rest of the dark mixture. Sylus inhales sharply, his pupils darkening as his grip on your thigh tight. His cock getting harder by the second. You can feel the shift in the air, the tension between you two raising. When you finish, he titles his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Messy kitten” he says low, brushing his thumb along the corner of your mouth spotted with sweetness. 

Before he can lean in again—

Bip bip bip!!! Your hunter watch shatters the moment. Your groan as your head falls back. You've got to be kidding me. You click your tongue in irritation. Sylus exhales sharply, his fingers flexing against your thigh before he pulls away entirely. The warmth of his body vanishes, replaced by the cold reality of duty. He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms, you can tell he's annoyed as much as you are.

Between his businesses and your jobs, having this moment is almost rare. You managed to video call, send each other messages and you try as much as possible to be with him. Now for Valentine's Day you requested two free days, so you could finish the box with strawberries and chocolate. 

You shoot him a glare before tapping the watch, the holographic interface lighting up with an incoming mission briefing. Your free day is gone. Just like that. You sigh, already slipping off the counter.

Priority Alert: Hunter (Y/N) Required. Immediate Deployment. Target—Wanderer: Heartbreaker.

You scroll through the report, brows furrowing. "It’s… been messing with couples. Destroying their date spots, ruining chocolate shipments, even sabotaging proposals." You pause. "Wow. It's really committed.”

Sylus lets out a dry chuckle. "So, you're going to hunt a depressed little menace who hates love?”

"I hope it's not as slippery as Pumpkin Magnus. This is serious.” 

Running after that Wanderer near to New Year was exhausting. At least you had fun during the event. The lantern you made together is still hanging at his base. 

“Because nothing screams ‘deadly mission’ like chasing that thing before it cancels Valentine’s Day.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small laugh that slips out. "Come on, we need to move.”

you prompt as you start grabbing your gear, moving to your bedroom to change into your uniform. Sylus seems to be a bit out of track. 

“We?" He raises an eyebrow. He follows you, not wanting to miss how you change. "I don’t remember signing up for this mission." He's distracted when you reveal your body, pulling your T-shirt over your head. He knew it, no bra today. His dick is still half hard. Sylus wanted so badly to have you that evening. Making you whimper his name, seeing you getting all sweaty and naughty. Kissing your belly, worshiping you in all senses. His plans were crushed in a moment. You glance at him over your shoulder, half naked grabbing your uniform from the chair. 

"Please. You always end up involved in my missions one way or another.” You move quickly. 

He leans against the doorframe, watching you with open amusement. "That’s different. Also I was busy with something else before someone’s annoying watch ruined the evening.”

You huff. "Well, if you're not coming, I’ll just—”

"Did I say I wasn’t coming?" His voice is smooth, teasing. 

If he can't have fun with your body then at least he would accompany you through this little adventure. Spending time with you is always fun and it doesn't really matter what you two are doing. 

Later in the city

“This the last spot where Heartbreaker was seen” you close the file on your watch. The park is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the winter sun. The lake stretches out before you, its surface rippling slightly under the breeze, reflecting the bright light of the evening. A few boats remain docked, swaying gently, their chains clinking against the wooden posts. Mephisto is scanning the area, flying over the park.

“The last couple attacked was right here. Their boat capsized, and they both ended up breaking up on the spot.”

Tracking Heartbreaker could be complicated. You look around to find some evidence of why, where and how it attacks the couples. You walk around with Sylus next to you. The scanner of your watch give you an update:

“No abnormal energy spikes detected. Traces of Wanderer activity linger near the dock.”

You nod, stepping closer to the water’s edge. “It doesn’t just pick any couple… don’t you think?”

Sylus smirks, his gaze flicks to the lake. "So, what’s the plan? Rent a boat, act all lovey-dovey, and lure the thing out?"

You let out a small sigh, tapping your fingers against your arm. “Probably it will work, but it doesn't mean it will appear right here. Which means it could take some time to find it…” You pause, then turn to face him, tilting your head slightly. “Sylus… can you be even romantic?” 

“I feel offended, kitten. Wasn't my affection not clear enough.”

You snort, shifting your weight onto one leg. “Let me think, you've taken me on several “date-missions”, using me as an armory, shield and bodyguard. And let’s not forget, you introduced me as just a friend during the museum event.”

“That's what it's all about.” Sylus lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Then, why don’t you teach me what it means to be romantic…”

“Do you want to take on this challenge?”

“You're always so competitive, sweetie. Why not?”

“Then less see who can make first appear Heartbreaker” 

As the evening stretches on, the two of you move through different spots known for romantic outings. First, a charming café where couples linger over half-finished desserts and whispered conversations. You glance at the menu and realize everything is designed for two: shared platters, couple-themed drinks, even desserts that come in matching sets. You realice most of the people are wearing matching outfits. You wonder if going around in the same outfits would be something you would do with him. Buying everything in a double set. Wearing the same pajamas, drinking from identical mugs, layering yourselves in matching sweaters… You have been wearing matching bracelets since the mission with the gem. Your fingers brush over it absentmindedly as you stir your drink, lost in thought. The dessert you ordered a while ago lay in front of you untouched. Sylus leans forward in his chair, smirking at your focused expression. 

“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” you're still lost in thought, your mind drifting over ways to be more romantic with him, until he suddenly holds up a spoonful of dessert in front of your nose. “Open” He orders you, you grimace at his sudden assertiveness but obey, letting him feed you. 

That’s 10 points for Sylus, feeding you is a way to be romantic.

Next stop is a flower garden, where lovers stroll between glowing lanterns and fragrant blossoms. Sylus plucks a small pink flower off a tree, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it behind your ear with a teasing grin. "That’s romantic enough for you, sweetie?" he murmurs slightly amusted. You roll your eyes but don't take off the flower.

“You can do better…” as you turn around to look around, which flower would match him the best? A red one catches your eyes, small and with delicate petals. You pull out several and turn back to him. "Bend down". You place one in his hair and another behind his ear. Sylus looks at you intensely, the warm light of the garden softening his features. You feel your heart begin to race. The beauty that this man radiates is out of this world, every time you remember this fact you don't understand how no one appreciates what you are seeing.

Just like at the New Year's market, the lady at the doll stand referred to Sylus as a tiger, someone fierce and intimidating. And although he certainly usually has that look, and he teases you about taming him, he has a soft spot. You see that every time you reflect yourself in his eyes. That’s truly something that makes you happy. 

Sylus gently grabs your hand, kissing the knuckles of your fingers. Bowing to his beloved lady. “Only you can touch me like this…” the intensity of the moment makes you blush.

By nightfall, you find yourselves at the promenade, the city lights shimmering on the river’s surface. Couples are everywhere, walking hand in hand, nestled on benches, whispering to each other under the soft glow of street lamps. Sylus and you take a seat on an empty bench, the cool night air carrying the sound of laughter and distant music. 

You lean back, exhaling. "Well, this is the third couple’s spot on the list, and still no sign of Heartbreaker."

Sylus stretches, his arm casually draping over the back of the bench almost around you. "Maybe, it's scared of us. Or maybe…" he tilts his head, watching the couples nearby, "...it only appears when there’s actual romance in the air."

You glance at him "Are you saying we’re not romantic enough?"

He smirks, leaning in just a little. "You tell me, kitten. Has there been a moment that made your heart race?"

“Not yet” you lie and he notices it. Is written all over your face. “And you, have I made your hearts race?” 

“No…” He points out nonchalantly. You feel offended and disappointed. Your lips press into a thin line, and you scoff, looking away. 

Sylus chuckles, the sound low and amused. "Oh? Are you disappointed?"

"Obviously" you huff, refusing to meet his gaze.

He shifts closer, trapping you on the bench. His smell invades you, you want to lie on his chest and let him caress your back while he reads you a poem. His voice dropped to a whisper "You shouldn’t be." Before you can ask what he means, he takes your hand, guiding it to his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is steady but strong. Your fingers twitch slightly.

"You make it race all the time," he confesses. "I just like seeing you try harder."

Even though he says it with his usual confidence, a slight pink color spreads across his cheeks. He says something like that, and now he’s blushing? That’s not fair. You stay in that position, refusing to move, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. For you, the world slows down, all of it fades into the background. 

Your gaze drifts upward, from his chest to his throat, lingering for a second before finally settling on his lips. They’re slightly parted, you miss the feeling of them. How they move in sync with yours. The longing to feel his naked skin on yours, his hands being a delicate weapon with which he tortures you until you fall between sighs and moans. It ignites the deepest desire of your heart. You don’t know if it’s your imagination or if he’s leaning in ever so slightly, but your heart is pounding loud enough that he must hear it.

"Kitten" he whispers. A question. A challenge. An Invitation.

Then a sudden chill cuts through the warm night, the hairs on your arms rising as the atmosphere shifts. You tense, instincts kicking in, fingers moving quickly toward your weapon. The shadows near the water seem to distort, the faint outline of something lurking just beyond normal sight.

“There” you murmur. Your watch confirms your gut feeling: metaflux energy detected.

Sylus follows your gaze, a slow grin spreading across his lips as excitement flickers in his eyes. He rolls his shoulders, readying himself.

“Time to break a Heartbreaker.”

You react first, drawing your weapon in a fluid motion, instincts honed from countless battles. “Sylus, left flank!” You call out, already moving, running after the Heartbreaker. Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He dashes to the side, his speed a blur as he circles around to cut off any escape. 

“I see it” he growls. 

—

At the end of the day, you spent the complete day hunting Heartbreaker, to just let him escape at the last moment. Well, you managed to recover the love letter they stole from the post office. You were exhausted, your muscles ached from the chase, the weight of exhaustion settling deep. This isn't how you wanted to spend a day with Sylus. You wanted to finish what you had started in the kitchen, to lose yourself in the heat of his lips, his hands, the way he makes your world tilt whenever he pulls you close. The initial mission of creating chocolate failed.

The cool night air brushes against your skin as you walk back where Sylus left his bike that same afternoon. Luckily you didn't have to go to HQ to make the report and you can send everything another day. Is already midnight. 

“Are you up for a joy ride?” Sylus hands you over your helmet. You can’t deny the way your heart beats at the sight of him. Leaning against his bike, smirking like he hadn’t just spent the whole day hunting down an annoyingly elusive Wanderer.

You’re brushing some remaining dust from your sleeve. “Where do you wanna take me?”

Sylus tilts his head that familiar glint of mischief returns to his gaze. “Guess” You sigh, finally slipping the helmet on. 

“Fine. But if this is another mission, I swear—” Right now, you just wanted to be with him, without missions, without distractions, without anything getting in the way. 

"Relax, kitten. No more running around tonight." He swings a leg over the bike, patting the seat behind him. “Just you and me.” You bite your lip, the familiar rush of warmth spreading through your chest. Maybe today hadn’t gone as planned, but with Sylus, it never really mattered. As long as he was beside you, it was enough.

You climb onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He hums in approval, his hand covering yours for just a second before gripping the handlebar.

“Hold on tight.” As the engine roars to life and the city lights blur around you, you press yourself closer against him, letting the night swallow the rest of the world. Sylus increases speed, making you scream in surprise. Instead of telling him to behave in the city, you laugh and hold on tighter to his body. The speed, the wind and the heat he emits make you forget your disappointment of not having caught Heartbreaker.

{At Twilight BGM} 

After a while, Sylus parks the bike smoothly in front of your place, the engine’s low hum fading into the quiet of the night. But he doesn’t move. You frown slightly, shifting against him, your arms still loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Why are we here?” you ask, tilting your head. “I thought you would take me to your base”

He finally exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head back just enough for his voice to carry over the roar of your heartbeat. “Do you miss the N109 Zone?” 

You wait for an explanation, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he lifts a hand, dragging his fingers over the back of your hand, a slow movement that sends a shiver up your spine. His touch is always so warm against your skin.

“Then… Why?” Sylus finally turns slightly, his glowing red eyes catching yours through the visor of your helmet. 

“Because you live here…” he murmurs a bit amused “And because I figured you’d want to finish what you started.”

You blink. “Finish what—?”

Then it clicks. The chocolate. Your eyes widen slightly, your mind flashing back to your kitchen, to the mess you left behind, to the small box of chocolates you had managed to salvage amidst the chaos. You had nearly forgotten. Nearly.

Sylus watches as realization dawns on you, his smirk deepening. “You didn’t think I’d let you off the hook that easily, did you?”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “I swear, you have the worst priorities.”

Sylus finally turns off the bike and swings a leg over, his movements smooth as ever. He faces you, leaning in just slightly. “Come on, kitten. You worked so hard on them.” His voice dips lower, teasing. “And besides…” His fingers ghost under your chin, tilting your face up ever so slightly. “You still owe me for all those interruptions.”

Your breath catches, heat creeping up your neck.

“Okay, okay.” You step off the bike, brushing past him with a smirk of your own. “But if they taste bad, you have to pretend you like it.”

Sylus chuckles. “Sweetie, if it’s made by you…” He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I’ll devour every last bite.” Your face starts to burn, is he still talking about the chocolate? 

You push the door open, stepping inside with Sylus close behind you. You get rid of your weapons at the entrance, placing your belt in its usual place, then you take off your shoes. The familiar scent of chocolate is still faintly in the air, mixed with the comforting warmth of your home. Your eyes immediately move to the kitchen counter, where the bowl of half-made chocolate still sits, abandoned in the rush of the mission.

“So much for finishing what I started” you murmur, rubbing your temple. Sylus hums behind you, moving into the kitchen with easy, unhurried steps.

“Guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”

You give him a dry look. “Oh? And what exactly do you suggest?”

He smirks. “We finish them now.”

Your brows lift. “It’s late.”

Sylus shrugs. “And? Isn't it Valentine's Day already?” He points to the clock in the living room. True, it's past one in the morning. You hesitate, glancing at bowl. It’s cooled but still workable. The strawberries you left soaking in cold water remain untouched. You sigh, rolling up your sleeves.

“Well, would you like to help me then?”

His smirk widens. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

You smile, pointing to the strawberries. “Dry them off and bring them here.” Sylus makes a show of complying, grabbing a towel and drying each berry gently off. You already know he’s skilled in the kitchen, especially with those delicious cupcakes he made before. It’s fun having him here, helping out. It feels real, everything, you’re feeling, your connection, your relationship.

You pick up a strawberry and dip it carefully into the warm chocolate you have already heated up, twisting it slightly before placing it on parchment paper. Sylus follows your movements, but when he dips his strawberry, he makes a mess; chocolate coating nearly his whole fingers.

You snort. “Wow. Truly an expert.”

Before you can react, he lifts his fingers to his lips, licking the excess chocolate off slowly. The way his tongue drags over his skin, the way his eyes hold yours the entire time. He did it on purpose. You look away. Heat rushes to your face. You glance down at your own fingers, chocolate smeared across your skin from your earlier work. Before you can wipe it away, Sylus catches your wrist, holding it up between you. His gaze darkens slightly, that playful smirk softening. 

“Let me….”

He didn’t give you the time to protest before his lips brush against your fingertips, his tongue flicking out to catch the chocolate. Your breath hitches, a rush of heat shoots through your body. He’s not in a hurry. He takes his time, licking the chocolate off each finger with a sinful kind of precision. 

“Sylus—” Your voice catches. 

His eyes meet yours. He likes to make you blush, to make you lose your composure. He loves every single one of those expressions you make and he never gets tired of seeing you that way. “Hmm?”

You swallow, pulse hammering in your throat. “…Nothing.” His lips curl at the edges. Satisfied. 

And suddenly, Valentine’s Day doesn’t seem so ruined after all. Without a word, he moves, stepping closer until you're pressed against the cool edge of the counter. He lifts you easily, your feet leaving the floor as he sets you down, your body flush against his.

“Where were we before?” You open your mouth to respond, but he silences you with a smirk, his fingers brushing against the strap of your hunter watch. You freeze. With a swift motion, he rips it off your wrist, tossing it into a nearby drawer without a second thought.

“Don't need this right now” he mutters, eyes back on you as if the watch had never mattered in the first place.

Your heart races. “Wait—”

But the words die in your throat as his lips descend to the curve of your neck, trailing soft, teasing kisses along the sensitive skin there. The heat of his touch sends a shiver through you, and your hands instinctively grip the edge of the counter, as if it can steady you against the flood of desire rushing through your veins. His thumb traces the line of your jaw slowly, savoring the moment. You swallow, the taste of his proximity is intoxicating. Sylus pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours as his gaze flickers to your lips. 

“What else can we cover with chocolate, kitten?”

You watch down on the bowl, if he is having fun then so do you. You dip your finger once more in the mixture and cup his face with your other hand, securing his position. Sylus just smiles. With the chocolate slightly dripping down, you painted a heart on his face. You always wanted to do this, but you haven't had the opportunity until now. You lean in, your lips brushing over his skin. Then with open mouth kisses you eat up the chocolate. Licking bit by bit the sweetness. Sylus breath hitch. His hands press on your thigh, restrained, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next. You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze.

“Take your shirt off” you say softly.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Bossy.” But he doesn’t hesitate. His fingers move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one with a painfully slowness, as if daring you to lose patience. The fabric parts, revealing the hard lines of his chest. 

You dip your fingers into the chocolate again, your touch featherlight as you trace a path down the center of his chest, stopping just above his heart. Sylus exhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. A teasing smile playing on your lips. 

"Are you trying to make art?" His voice is a low rumble. You grin, dipping your finger back into the bowl. 

"Maybe. Stay still."

He growls softly, like a domesticated wild cat, when you drag the chocolate-covered fingertip over his collarbone, tracing down his ribs in lazy patterns. In the middle of this action, you get a better idea, and you start writing on his chest. A little crooked, but clearly. Something that always comes to your mind every time you see him. Every time he kisses you, every time you melt into a long hug, when you sleep next to him or he just says your name. Then, suddenly, he catches your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. His eyes soften as he reads the words scrawled across his chest. His smile is small, but undeniably warm.

"Kitten..." he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss onto your lips. "That's something I should be saying.”

“Did you think our competition was over?”

His hand sliding to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. “Is this how…” He presses another kiss onto your lips, his voice low as he whispers against you, “...you’re going to teach me romanticism?” He moves his lips to your cheek, planting a soft kiss there as well. “I’m more than happy to be your student.” 

You try to pinch him, but Sylus is quicker, capturing your other hand as well. "Oh, now you want to punish me…"

You smile, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Then be a good boy." For a moment he considers not doing what you say, but that "good boy" has made him very horny.

Sylus leans in, his body pressing between your legs. You sink your free hand into his tousled grey hair, pulling him toward you as your lips brush together. The way his breath mingles with yours is both comforting and intoxicating. The trust and complicity that you share with him is unique. The longer you're in this intimate position, the faster your pulse quickens, and you swear it's synchronizing with the beat of your lover. 

Sylus moves with an urgency that surprises you for a moment, his lips finding yours again, more demanding this time. His lips trail down your jaw, his touch becoming more insistent, more heated. You tilt your head, gasping softly as you feel the desire in his touch.

"Tell me," he whispers between kisses, "What do you want, kitten?" His hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb gently brushing the curve of your jaw as his gaze holds yours. You breathe out, every inch of you aching with the pull between you two. 

“You know what I want.” you whisper back. 

With a quiet, almost reverent motion, he lifts you effortlessly from the counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as he carries you to the bed, never breaking eye contact.  

It isn’t long before every single piece of clothing you were wearing is scattered across the room, discarded like thoughts of hesitation that no longer matter. His hands move with a gentleness that contrasts with the fire in his eyes, tracing slow, reverent paths over your skin. He holds you as if you are something precious, something irreplaceable, as if he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

His lips follow the path his hands have mapped, pressing slow. His fingers skimming along the curve of your back, the dip of your waist, the rise of your ribs. 

"You’re beautiful" he murmurs, almost as if the words slip out without his permission. He leans back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching, drinking you in as if this moment might slip through his fingers if he blinks.

You reach up, fingers threading through his silver-grey hair, tugging lightly. “You always say that” you whisper, smiling softly.

“Because it’s always true” he counters, brushing his lips over your temple. You close your eyes at the tenderness of his words, the way they sink into your chest, filling spaces you hadn’t realized were empty. A quiet sigh escapes you as you nuzzle into him, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. You have never felt safer, never felt more cherished than in this moment, wrapped in the arms of the one who knows you better than anyone else.

In the most intimate moments, in the intensity of your sighs, you know that Sylus, despite not expressing it in words, shows you his most romantic side through his actions. And tonight, he expresses it to you with the intensity of his gaze and the softness of his movements. 

Actions speaks louder than words.

[ducktoo]

Cheeky

IVE’s An Yujin x M!Reader

Note: Thank u @mintwithchoco for the prompt! It was fun to write this! (I might have post it a bit early but It's a bit too fluff to rot in the jail-

Hope yall got enough dose of lethal Yujin. Here’s a cutie Yujin for yall

(Can this woman not make me blush every single time-)

You have heard many opinions about An Yujin through her online exposure. Gorgeous yet strict, a natural professional and one of the most popular idols in the business.

So when you got hired as a personal bodyguard to IVE, you knew you had to be in your best behaviour. You were expecting a professional introduction. Maybe a polite handshake, a simple exchange of names, and a respectful nod—just like how it had been with every other client before.

But no. Instead, the first thing you got was laughter.

Loud, unabashed laughter.

You had barely stepped into the practice room, clad in your sharp black suit with an earpiece securely in place, when Yujin spun around mid-dance routine, caught sight of you, and nearly collapsed from laughing too hard.

"Oh my god, you look so serious!" She practically wheezed, hands on her knees.

You blinked, your professional composure wavering just slightly. That’s not the usual reaction.

"...Excuse me?"

She straightened up, still giggling, and gave you a once-over. "You're my new bodyguard, right? Wow, we’re the same age, but you look like you’re about to arrest me or something."

Yujin wiped at the corner of her eyes and grinned as she strolled up to you, radiating the kind of unbothered energy that made your brow twitch. Well this is…going to be a pain.

"Well at least I do look the part, no?" you asked, straightening your vest as you clear your throat . "I’m literally here to keep you safe."

"Oh, I’m very grateful." Yujin smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in her eye. "But I was kinda hoping for someone... I don’t know, scarier? You look way too nice."

You stared at her, unimpressed. "I can be scary."

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."

You sighed and took a step forward, dropping your voice into a low, stern tone. "If you don't follow security protocol, I will personally make sure you regret it."

For a moment, Yujin's eyes widened, and you thought—just for a second—that she would actually take you seriously.

Then she grinned even wider.

“Ohhh,” she mused, stepping even closer, her face just inches from yours. “I like you already.”

You had a very bad feeling about this.

-

If you had known what was coming, you would’ve quit on the spot.

An Yujin, despite her public image of being a charming, responsible leader, was actually a menace.

If she wasn’t sneaking off to buy snacks at the nearby convenience stores without telling anyone, she was hiding behind doors just to jump-scare you. And the worst part? The other IVE members had joined in on it…but mostly Yujin.

"Come on, just one smile," Yujin teased one afternoon, poking your cheek while you stood guard by the van. "You've been with us for months, and I still haven't seen you laugh."

You exhaled through your nose. "My job is to protect you, not to entertain you."

"That’s so boring. How do you survive without fun?"

"By keeping a certain someone out of trouble." You shot her a pointed look.

Yujin gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Wow. Is that how you see me? Just a walking headache?"

You opened your mouth—because yes she was a giant headache to you—but she cut you off, suddenly leaning in way too close.

"What if I am your problem, huh?" she whispered, eyes glinting with playful challenge.

You held your ground, staring her down. "...Then I'll have to handle you accordingly, I suppose."

Instead of backing off, Yujin grinned wider. "I’d like to see you try."

Oh, she was insufferable. And unfortunately, you were stuck with her.

-

"You know," Yujin drawled, stretching across the couch in the waiting room like a cat in the sun. One arm hung off the side lazily, while the other rested behind her head, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "I think you like me more than you let on."

You sighed, already used to her antics. "What makes you think that?"

Her lips curled upward, slow and knowing, like she had already won whatever game she was playing. "Because I'm fun. And charming. And incredibly good-looking." She struck an exaggerated pose, tilting her chin up dramatically like some kind of historical monarch.

Across the room, Wonyoung groaned, rubbing her temples. "Unnie, please. Have some dignity."

"You don’t want me to tell the truth?" Yujin gasped, clutching her chest in mock devastation, her mouth slightly parted as if she had just been personally attacked.

"I don't want you to embarrass us in front of our bodyguard," Wonyoung corrected, glancing at you apologetically.

You just shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm used to it."

Yujin’s eyes flickered with amusement, but instead of making another joke, her expression softened just slightly—like she had caught something in your tone that intrigued her. Then, just as quickly, the mischief returned. "See? That's basically an admission that you enjoy my company."

You gave her a deadpan look. "That is not what I said."

"Too late, I'm taking it as fact." She stretched her arms over her head, looking far too pleased with herself.

You exhaled through your nose, choosing to ignore her. If there was one thing you'd learned about An Yujin, it was that engaging with her nonsense only fuelled her further.

But despite all her teasing and the way she constantly pushed your buttons, there were moments when she reminded you why she was the leader of IVE.

Like now.

Liz sat in the corner of the room, staring down at her phone with her lips pressed into a tight line. She was fidgeting, her hands twisting together in her lap—a stark contrast to the usual easygoing energy she carried.

Yujin noticed instantly. Her playful expression melted away, replaced by something steadier. More grounded. She pushed herself off the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides before crouching beside Liz.

"Jiwonie," she called softly, nudging her knee against Liz’s. "What’s up?"

Liz hesitated before sighing. "I feel like I keep messing up my parts in the choreography."

Yujin tilted her head, studying her with an unreadable expression. Then, instead of immediately reassuring her, she took a moment. Just a beat of silence—enough to let Liz’s words settle before responding.

"You don’t," Yujin said firmly. "We practiced together, remember? You’re doing fine."

"But—"

"No buts." Yujin stood up, walked over, and slung an arm around Liz’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You know what I told you? The best performers aren’t the ones who get everything perfect all the time. They’re the ones who keep going no matter what."

Liz still looked uncertain, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Yujin grinned. "Besides, if you mess up, I’ll just mess up too. That way, we’re both in trouble."

"That’s a terrible encouragement," you muttered.

Yujin turned her head slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, and the glint in her eyes was back. The glint. The one that usually meant trouble.

"It’s called leadership," Yujin shot back. "Ever heard of it?"

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, but you didn’t argue. Liz was smiling now, and that was proof enough that whatever Yujin was doing was working. She had a way of lifting her members’ spirits that was genuinely impressive.

Liz laughed, looking much more relaxed. "Thanks, unnie."

"Anytime," Yujin replied, patting her head before making her way back to her spot on the couch. As she passed you, she glanced up, smirking.

"See? I'm not just a pain in your ass."

"I never said that," you replied, but she only winked before plopping back onto the couch like she hadn’t just effortlessly reassured one of her members.

You sighed. Protecting An Yujin was exhausting… but you didn’t mind as much as you pretended to.

-

Your day off. A rare and precious thing.

You had been looking forward to it—no earpiece, no schedule to follow, no six-foot radius of hyper-vigilance around an overgrown puppy disguised as an idol. Just a quiet, peaceful day to yourself.

Or so you thought.

The realization hit you like a cruel joke when you spotted her.

An Yujin. Hoodie up, mask on, but you’d recognize her anywhere. The way she walked, slightly loose-limbed and confident, like the world was hers to navigate. The way she hummed under her breath as she glanced at store signs, completely unaware of how reckless she was being.

You groaned under your breath. Of course.

But before you could even question why she was out alone, without security, without backup, you saw him. A man. Mid-thirties. Dark hoodie. His posture was too stiff, his steps too calculated. He lingered a few feet behind Yujin, never overtaking her, never slowing down. His gaze flickered to her every few seconds, fingers twitching slightly as if waiting for something.

Your instincts kicked in immediately.

You followed her into a convenience store, keeping to the shelves as she strolled past the snack aisle. She had no idea. Her biggest concern at the moment was probably whether to get banana milk or iced coffee—completely oblivious to the shadow tailing her.

He lingered near the entrance, pretending to look at snacks but never actually picking anything up. His eyes were locked on Yujin, and his fingers twitched like he was waiting for the right moment.

Sasaeng. Your stomach turned cold.

You moved fast.

The moment Yujin left the store, you followed right behind. And just as the man reached out—

You grabbed his wrist. Tight.

A sharp intake of breath. The man's head snapped toward you, eyes widening in shock and irritation.

"The hell—?" he hissed, jerking back, but you didn’t let go.

Yujin spun around, startled. "Huh?—"

"Good afternoon, mister." You pulled her behind you instinctively, keeping your grip on the man. "I don’t know what you think you’re doing," you said, voice low and firm, "but walk away. Now."

The man scowled, trying to yank his arm free. "Who the hell are you?"

"Her bodyguard," you answered coldly. "And if you don’t leave in the next five seconds, you won’t like what happens next."

A flicker of hesitation. His eyes darted between you and Yujin, who was standing rigid behind you now, her usual carefree energy drained into something tense and alert.

Then, finally, the man sneered and yanked his arm free. "Tch. Not worth it," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

You stood there for a moment, making sure he was really gone, before exhaling.

And then you remembered the girl behind you.

"So…what the hell?" you snapped, turning to her. "Why are you alone?"

She blinked up at you, wide-eyed, still processing what just happened. "Uh…"

"You know how dangerous this is, right?" Your voice was sharper than usual, the adrenaline still running through you. "No staff, no backup, no security. What were you thinking?"

Yujin finally seemed to snap out of it, rubbing the back of her neck. "...I just wanted to go out for a bit. I didn’t want to bother anyone."

Your fists clenched, the lingering adrenaline making your chest feel too tight. "You call this not bothering anyone? You're lucky I decided to go out right now you dunce."

She hesitated, shifting on her feet. Then, in a small voice, she admitted, "I didn’t even realize he was following me."

You exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Yujin," you muttered, softer this time, "this is exactly why you can’t go out alone. It’s not about you wanting freedom, it’s about your safety. There are people out there who—" You stopped, shaking your head. "Just... don’t do this again."

Silence stretched between you for a few seconds before Yujin suddenly smiled.

It wasn’t her usual teasing grin. It was softer. Almost... grateful.

"You really do care about me, huh?"

You groaned. "That’s what you’re taking from this?"

Her lips twitched, and just like that, the mischievous glint in her eyes was back. She nudged your arm playfully. "Admit it. You’d miss me if I got kidnapped."

"Don't make me use profanity you—"

"Fine, fine!" She laughed, hands up in surrender. But then she let out a breath, gaze flickering down for a second before meeting yours again, more earnest this time.

"Seriously, though," she murmured. "Thanks. I mean it."

You watched her for a moment, noting the way her usual carefree mask had cracked just a little. The way her eyes, despite the teasing, held something like genuine gratitude. She nudged you playfully. "Guess I owe you one, huh?"

"More like you owe me about a hundred at this point," you muttered, finally relaxing.

Yujin grinned. "Then I’ll start by buying you lunch. C’mon, bodyguard. Let’s eat."

And despite everything, despite the fact that this was supposed to be your day off, you found yourself walking beside her, watching her laugh like nothing had happened.

-

You should’ve known saving An Yujin would have consequences.

Not in the form of a promotion or a bonus (though you wouldn’t say no to either), but in the absolute menace she had become ever since that day.

At first, you thought you were imagining things—the longer stares, the way her lips curled mischievously whenever she caught your eye, the subtle brushes of her fingers against your arm whenever she passed by.

Then, the touches became more deliberate. The teasing got more frequent. The closeness is more unbearable.

It was like a switch had flipped. Suddenly, your personal space was no longer yours. And the worst part? She did it so naturally, like she had always been this clingy with you.

Just like this one morning at the company building—

"Mr. Bodyguaaard~" Yujin sang as she threw an arm over your shoulders, completely ignoring the amused stares of the staff around you. "Walk me to the practice room!"

You exhaled. "Yujin, You know I’m going there anyway."

"But this way is more fun." She tightened her grip, practically hanging off you.

You gave her a look. "...Do you have to be this close?"

"Yes," she said simply, grinning.

It only got worse after a long schedule. You were expecting Yujin to slump in exhaustion like she usually did. Instead, the moment she climbed into the van, she scooted over without hesitation, settling in way too close before dropping her head onto your shoulder with a satisfied sigh.

Your entire body stiffened.

"What are you doing?" you asked, voice flat, not daring to move.

"Getting comfortable," she mumbled, shifting slightly as if trying to mold herself against you.

Your brow twitched. "You have an entire seat to yourself."

"But I don’t want to sit alone," she said simply, eyes fluttering shut. "You’re warm."

Across from you, Wonyoung and Liz exchanged knowing looks.

"Oh no," Gaeul muttered, covering her mouth to hide a laugh.

"I don’t get it," Wonyoung whispered, glancing between you and Yujin. "Since when were they this close?"

Liz smirked. "Since someone got rescued and suddenly realized how cool their bodyguard is."

You sighed. "I heard that, Jiwon."

"I'm glad you did," Liz cheekily shot back.

Meanwhile, Yujin hummed in contentment, completely ignoring the stares and the muffled giggles of her members. As if your shoulder was the perfect place to rest, she nestled in further, her soft breath fanning against your neck.

You felt heat creep up your collar.

"...Heavy," you muttered, shifting slightly.

"Comfy," she countered with a teasing lilt, her lips curling into a lazy grin.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Gaeul shaking her head. "This is getting dangerous."

Liz, meanwhile, giggled behind her hand. "We should start selling tickets to this slow-burn romance."

You groaned. Yujin? She just smirked.

Her clingy antics doesn't stop in the comfort of their dorm, unfortunately. Before their music show performance, you were standing near the dressing room door, waiting for the members to finish.

And then the door swung open.

Yujin strolled out like she was making a grand entrance, her hair freshly styled, her makeup flawless—looking every bit the idol she was.

And then, in one smooth motion, she reached out, grabbed your hand, and laced her fingers with yours.

Your brain lagged.

"Let’s go, mister!" she announced.

You blinked. "Why are you holding my hand—?"

"You saved me, so now I’m keeping you close!" she said cheerfully. "You're my lucky charm!"

Behind her, Leeseo’s jaw dropped. Liz and Rei had to turn away to hide their laughter.

"Yujin," you hissed under your breath, trying to pull away.

She only tightened her grip.

"Nope," she said. "Mine now."

You could physically feel Wonyoung’s migraine forming. "You cannot just say that out loud," Wonyoung groaned, covering her face.

"I just did." Yujin smirked, swinging your intertwined hands slightly, watching your reaction with delight.

Liz and Rei lost it, muffling their laughter behind their hands.

At that moment, a staff member walked by, did a double-take at your very obvious hand-holding situation, and nearly tripped.

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

-

You really should have been more prepared for this.

It happened at the airport, in front of dozens of fans, reporters, and flashing cameras.

You were walking beside Yujin, scanning the crowd for any potential threats, keeping a careful distance—when suddenly—

"Honey~!"

You froze. The world stopped.

Gasps. Shrieks. Camera flashes directly in your face.

Even the security personnel ahead of you paused.

Your entire being short-circuited. "What did you just call me?"

Yujin, completely unbothered, turned to you with an innocent smile. "Honey~" she repeated, her voice sweet as sugar.

Wonyoung, Gaeul, and Rei screamed.

 Leeseo was flabbergasted, with Liz quickly covering the youngest's ear from behind.

Even the fans were losing their minds.

"OH MY GOD—"

"WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY—"

"HUH?!?!?"

"YUJIN CALLED HER BODYGUARD HONEY?!?!"

"What. The. Hell. Yujin?!" Your ears burned with embarrassment. "Are you trying to make me headline Dispatch?"

"You take care of me," Yujin said smoothly, not missing a beat. "You protect me, you make sure I eat, you saved my life—so obviously, you're my honey."

"You cannot just say that out loud in public," you hissed, absolutely mortified.

"But I just did," she replied with a grin, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You quickly cover her mouth, frantically trying to damage control. "STOP!!!!"

At this point, Wonyoung had buried her face in her hands, physically unable to process what was happening. Gaeul was bent over, wheezing. Rei looked like she was watching the most dramatic plot twist unfold in real life.

A fan nearby whispered to their friend, "Do you think they’re dating?"

You nearly collapsed.

And Yujin?

She just tugged on your sleeve, eyes filled with amusement, and smiled. "Come on, honey. Let’s go."

And as you caught the knowing grins of her members, the delighted chaos among the fans, and the sheer horror on your own face reflected in the airport glass, you realized something.

You didn’t just save An Yujin.

You unleashed a monster.

[worthlessnepenthes]

So I reblogged this because it’s funny but then I thought about YQY for a second, and reblogged again so I could talk.

This isn’t going to be any new, profound thoughts for the fandom I’m sure but they’re new to me and I wanna talk for a minute.

I, personally, do not like YQY. I don’t HATE him, but I don’t like him. But I do feel sorriest for him, out of all the SVSSS and PIDW characters. I often forget that when he left SJ, he too was a literal child. Yes, he probably could have done better—told his master he needed help to save his brother, heck, told a fellow shidi or shixiong once he got to the peak. He was probably popular. I can’t imagine no one would have been willing to help him. But he was also a child, so I forgive him. He suffered and hurt himself, grievously, permanently causing himself a chronic condition in his attempts to get back to DJ. I don’t know that I think he did everything he COULD, but I do believe he did everything he THOUGHT he could.

And then Shen Jiu shows up, much like a feral cat, and constantly lashes out and hurts YQY. Their strained relationship is absolutely caused on both ends. It’s hard to say, ‘Well, YQY should have just KNOWN that SJ wasn’t going to the brothels to sleep with whores/didn’t kill LQG/wasn’t abusing Ning Ning/whatever other terrible things he was accused of,’ when SJ was, in fact, very verbally abusive and physically abusive to at least one disciple (lbh. Do we even get a canon reason WHY he hates him so much?), and verbally abusive to YQY, and to most likely many other characters.

However, maybe if YQY had actually stood up for SJ and said ‘No, this is a misunderstanding, this is not what happened,’ instead of just assuming that SJ had done whatever terrible thing and then covering for him in a sense of guilt, maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad. Or if YQY said, ‘take out your anger on me, it’s all my fault, but leave the others alone’. (It wasn’t, and SJ is wrong for acting this way.)

Honestly if they had ever fucking COMMUNICATED instead of just assuming the actual fucking worst of each other, while still deeply loving the other (in whatever romantic or platonic way they had, they loved the other) no matter whether they ever said it or not, a lot could have been avoided. Like PIDW YQY’s death.

Or hell, if Airplane had ever written about Xianxia mental health care instead of probably curing depression with papapa!

But the relationship between SJ and YQY is almost worse and more horrifying after SY comes through. YQY KNOWS it isn’t SJ, but every test they do show he isn’t possessed. So maybe it really is SJ, and all SJ needed to become happy was simply…to forget almost everything, but especially any time SJ and YQY spent together before they became Peak Lords.

So YQY is still trying to make it up to a person that he both thinks is there and thinks is not there, never knowing for sure. Every emotion he has towards this ‘new’ SJ feeling like a betrayal, ‘if only SJ could have acted like this before!’

Yeah. It’s really horrifying. He never gets the comfort of knowing for certain that SJ is gone, never gets to properly grieve and burn incense for him. But he also always feels just slightly off kilter with SY, and then feels guilt, because this is SJ! And even if it isn’t…what can YQY do about it?

YQY has many sleepless nights, wondering, after SY shows up.

I don’t like YQY, but I feel sorry for him. He is the most pitiful character in the book to me.

Shen Qingqiu, pissed off during a peak lord meeting: when I die I want Shang-shidi to lower me into the earth, just so he can let me down one last time

Shang Qinghua: bro c'mon

Yue Qingyuan, abruptly overcome by jealousy so intense that he's on the verge of a qi deviation: but I thought I was the one who let Xiao Jiu down the most...?

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][aged up!][college-type au][friends to more?][cute lil blurb][anal][sloppy fuck][spit down the crack][claustrophobia warning][finger-sucking][muffled][anal creampie][orgasm denial][mdom][just a lil' sumn-sumn][spit][rough sex][my beta reader is asleep][for my anon mark girlies][no plot, just porn]

"Thank God you're here." Mark hisses under his breath, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist before tugging you towards one of the random closets, and shoving you in, alongside coats and brooms.

"Play Truth or Dare with me."

The request catches you off guard, and you stare at him, upper lip curled in distaste.

"What am I, twelve?"

"No, you're my best friend and you need to do twelve year old things with me." He huffs before pursing his lips. "That didn't come out right but—"

"Why are you playing Truth or Dare anyway?" You question. "You don't like party games."

"I got roped into it! Now you need to help me or else."

"Or else what?"

"Exactly."

You let out a huff, swatting Mark in the back of his head, watching as his hands reach for the back of his scalp, brows creasing into a pinched frown.

"I'm not letting you rope me into the potential situation of putting my mouth on someone else's filthy ass, dirty ass, grimy ass mouth."

You seethe.

"That's like saying you want me to put a turd in my mouth. Because that's what'll happen."

"But you might get to put your mouth on my mouth. Isn't that better?" Mark tries to appease you, brilliant brown eyes twinkling as he looks down at you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders, thumbs brushing against the soft skin exposed by the rather wide-neck of your T-shirt.

"A cute cat turd is still a turd, Mark." You deadpan before letting out a huff, scowling up at him.

"Fine." You hiss. "But you owe me."

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

"And we meet again."

The grin that creeps onto Mark's face is shit-eating, dimples in his cheeks popping and he leans back against the wall, arms crossing over his broad chest, and you watch the lean muscles of his arms flex. Definitely intentional.

Just like the dare to be in the closet.

"You're vagina repellent in a knitted sweater. I hope you know that."

The laugh that Mark let's out is melodious, slivers of light creep under the door and paint the wooden interior with faint light, features shadowy as Mark drops to the floor, legs extended and jeans straining against the muscles of his thighs.

It's an appealing sight.

Invincible, staring up at you through dark lashes, chocolate hued eyes locked on your form in that way that's always been too... Assessing to be friendly. And a hand wraps around your ankle, his thumb gently brushing over the tightly wound laces of your boot before gently guiding your foot to rest over his crotch. He feels the weight of your leg and you feel the weight of his gaze, boring into you.

"That was mad smooth, wasn't it?" Mark breaks the tension-ridden silence and your only answer is a snort, before you crouch down, planting yourself on his shins instead of sitting on the floorboards.

"It was, I'm not gonna lie." You concede, your thighs on either side of you, sneakers tucked on either side of your ass and your hands rest lazily on Mark's thighs.

"How long do we need to be in here?" You question with a hum, picking at the lint of his jeans, attention lowered so that you don't have to meet that million-eyed stare of his.

"15-ish minutes." Mark hums. "20 if we wanna do something."

The snort that leaves your lips has his mouth twitching into a little grin. He's always loved the way your lips curl, the way your eyes twinkle the slightest bit and the way your chest heaves when you take that breath.

"Is that you telling me you wanna do you something?" You tease with a hum, leaning forward and tugging playfully on the V-neck of his sweater vest.

There's always been a bit of a 'will-they won't-they' situation between you and Mark.

Shy gazes, and soft touches, the way your eyes would automatical crinkle at the corners whenever you'd catch sight of him and the way his jokes would automatically become more pandered towards you than anyone else.

Mark genuinely doesn't give a shit if no one else finds him funny, but as long as you do, it's a win.

Even if it's just a stupid snort that leaves you.

"Yeah." Mark's voice breaks the silence, his tongue dragging slowly across his top row of teeth, from one canine to the other. "I wanna do something."

"Shit—" You gasp, the coolness of the closet wall pressed against your cheek, hands splayed against the surface and your skirt around your waist, panties discarded to God knows where and Mark's voice is a breathy pant, his hips snapping against yours.

The burning stretch is painful, your nails nearly peeling paint from the walls before Mark's hips slow to a tantalizing grind, his hands moving from the cool surface of the wall before palming the fleshy globes of your ass, spreading the plush and looking at where your tight, furled hole sucks him in so sweetly, pulsing around his thick, weepy cock.

"Ohhhh, so fuckin' pretty."

Your gummy walls flutter when you feel that cooling glob of spit run down the crease of your ass, parting only to lubricate where Mark has you speared on his cock, hips rolling and grinding to reach the deepest crevices of your insides.

His palm collides with the jiggly flesh of your ass, and he drinks in your weak, whiny whimpers, as your hands continue to attempt to stabilize you inbetween the mindboggling thrusts that have your tongue lolling and drool trickling down your bottom lip.

Two digits force your plush lips to part, fingertips pressing against the flat of your tongue, fucking your mouth sloppily while his cock continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon.

"Where am I?" Mark huffs, one hand grasping the fat of your ass cheek with the desperation of a man dying in 20 minutes and his other fucks your mouth, fingers bullying the back of your throat until you gag, thick globs of saliva spilling from your lips with each painfully hard thrust.

"Tell me where I am." He repeats.

"M—my ass..." You whine, words muffled and eyes brimming with tears, your mascara's ruined and your lipgloss is smeared across your chin.

Mark's cock twitches, smearing precum against your sensitive walls that keep sucking him in with neediness, your cunt clenching around nothing and slick dripping down your thighs. There's nothing that makes him harder than the way your eyes flutter when he hits particularly deep, when he leans forward and gets even deeper.

He likes the way your voice deepens and you let out that groan that makes his hips stutter just a bit.

"Tell me you like it." He breathes out, smearing his saliva and spit covered hand across your features, very much ruining your makeup and you gasp shakily. "Tell me I'm doing a good job, baby. And I'll let you come."

The promise of being able to extinguish that paining burn that's been fizzing in your belly is magnetic and you don't even know when your swollen lips part to whine and mewl.

"I like— I love the way you fuck m-my ass— ...shit— you're so good at fucking me, Mark. Don't stop, please."

You sound pathetic and if you weren't so cock drunk, you'd have cringed at how weak you sound.

But your back is arched like a cat, your face is messy and your ass is being treated like a fleshlight, so you're not too capable of being a bitch.

Not when Mark's hiking up your leg, his hips speeding up in the way that has you muffling your screams, biting down onto his fingers before his hips still and you feel the way warmth fills your insides.

Cum leaks around his cock, pearly droplets forming pools at your knees and soaking into the carpet below you, and you pant weakly when Mark pulls his cock from your ass.

And he watches his snowy slick trickle out of your puckered hole, and down your slippery and neglected folds, and dripping.

It's damn near uncomfortably cramped but Mark finds his way, pushing you against the wall as lowers his head, dragging his tongue through your sodden folds, his cum coating his tongue before he spits it back at your cunt, watching the way your hole clenches.

There's nothing sexier than the way your body twitches and shakes when he eats his cum, his hands grasping your fleshy thighs so tightly that he's definitely leaving indentations. His lips find purchase, suckling at your clit and rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub, and your hips buck.

Your toes curl and you feel the way your belly burns with an oncoming orgasm.

And you feel the burn increase tenfold when Mark grabs your hand, gently easing three of your own fingers into your still abused hole, and you whine, staring at him over your shoulder.

Mark looks unapologetically feral, sucking and tongue fucking your cunt before he meets your gaze, hazy brown eyes staring at you from below long lashes.

"I never thought you'd look this pretty with your ass stuffed."

Taglist:

@lucky-beheaded 🌻

@anesthesia-4rizzle 🎀

@fayethefaerie 🦋

@feral010 ✨

@blckbarbiedoll 🌷

@allycat4458 🪻

@custardpuddingprincess ⭐

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🦄

@theamazkngskye 🍄

@titchx0 🦆

[loafysainz]

TAKE US DADDY | LN 4

lando norris!dad x mom!reader

warn: fluffffffffff

this story is actually a the sequel of the story Don't Go Daddy.

Lando was already dressed, bag packed, and his car waiting outside, but he refused to leave without saying goodbye properly. The past weeks, Noah and Leo had been ridiculously clingy—like little koalas attached to his legs. If he left without waking them up, there was no doubt they’d wake up in tears, wailing for him. But now, as he stood in their dimly lit rooms, watching their peaceful faces, he felt his resolve weaken.

First, he crouched beside Noah’s bed, gently brushing the messy curls from his forehead. "Noah, buddy, wake up," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Noah stirred slightly, brows furrowing, but he just whined and buried his face deeper into his pillow.

Lando chuckled. "C’mon, mate. You gotta say bye to me properly."

Noah let out a grumpy hum, eyes still shut, and when Lando wrapped an arm around him, the little boy automatically snuggled closer. Instead of waking up, though, he just sighed contentedly and went back to sleep.

"Oh, c’mon," Lando groaned playfully. "You little traitor."

He peppered kisses all over Noah’s forehead, cheeks, nose—wherever he could reach. Noah squirmed, whining in protest, but didn’t actually push him away. Lando figured that was a win.

Noah let out the smallest, sleepiest hum before finally cracking his eyes open. “Daddy?” His voice was thick with sleep, and instead of getting up, he immediately rolled into Lando’s chest, snuggling into his warmth.

Lando chuckled, running a hand down his little back. “Sleepyhead,” he murmured, hugging him tight.

Noah only made a small, content noise before—just like that—falling back asleep in his arms. Lando sighed, completely torn between waking him up properly or just letting him be. In the end, he settled for placing a few more kisses all over Noah’s chubby cheeks, whispering, “Daddy’s going to work now, okay? Be good, take care of Mommy and Leo. Daddy loves you, Noah.”

Noah barely reacted, just wriggled a little before letting out the softest, tiniest sigh. His little lips were pouty, his face smushed into the pillow, and Lando had to physically stop himself from squeezing the life out of him. Instead, he pressed one last lingering kiss to his forehead and reluctantly stepped away.

Now moving to his next target.

Leo.

Leo was in the exact same position Lando had left him in last night. His little troublemaker was sprawled out in his bed, mouth slightly open, chubby cheeks flushed, and one hand clutching his tiny stuffed lion. Lando leaned in and peppered kisses all over Leo’s chubby cheeks, then nuzzled into his neck playfully.

Leo stirred, stretching like a tiny cat before blinking up at him with the sleepiest, happiest smile. His eyes weren’t even fully open yet, but his little teeth peeked through, all bright and shiny.

“Daddy…” he mumbled sleepily, reaching out with tiny hands. Lando immediately scooped him into a warm hug.

"Yeah, bud?" Lando grinned, rubbing his back.

Leo let out a deep sigh, still not fully awake. "Can I hug you… for one hour?"

Lando blinked. Oh, come on. That’s not fair.

"One hour? That’s it?" Lando teased, rocking him slightly. "What if I wanna hug you forever, huh?"

Leo hummed in thought for approximately two seconds before going, "No, no."

Lando burst out laughing. "Alright, then. One hour it is."

But literally two minutes later, Leo wiggled out of the hug, pressing his tiny hands against Lando’s chest. “Okay, Daddy. it’s been one hour!”

Lando cracked up. “That was NOT an hour, little scammer.”

Leo just grinned sleepily, dimples showing, and Lando swore his heart was going to burst. He gave him a few more smooches, leaving his cheeks all rosy before tucking him back under the blanket.

“Daddy loves you, Leo.”

And with that, he finally left the room.

****

Finally, he made his way to Y/N. She was awake, all soft and warm-looking in bed, watching him with that unreal, angelic face of hers. Lando sighed dramatically. “You sure you don’t want to come with me? Just pack up the kids and go?”

Y/N shook her head, smiling softly. “They have school, Lando.”

Lando groaned, flopping onto the bed beside her. “They’re literally babies. They don’t need school.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, reaching out to fix the collar of his hoodie. "They’ll be okay, you know."

Lando let out a breath. "I know. It’s just… they’ve been so clingy lately. What if they freak out when I’m gone?"

Y/N smiled softly. "They’ll be okay. And if they do get upset, we’ll figure it out, yeah?"

Lando just stared at her for a second, completely mesmerized. "You know you’re really pretty, right?"

Before she could respond, he leaned in and kissed her, deep and slow, like he was trying to make it last. Like he didn’t want to leave at all.

And honestly? He really, really didn’t.

But work was work.

So, he pulled away, kissed her forehead, and finally—finally—headed out the door.

****

The kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma of a homemade meal as Y/N stirred the pot, humming softly to herself. The warm atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of tiny feet running down the stairs—fast, urgent, and filled with distress.

“Mommy!!” Noah’s voice cracked as he ran straight into the kitchen, his little brother Leo right behind him, his chubby cheeks already stained with tears.

Y/N barely had time to turn around before Noah wrapped his arms around her legs, his tiny frame shaking. Leo, slightly slower but just as upset, clung onto her other legs with a whimper.

Their lower lips trembled as they still clung to their mom legs, searching for something—or rather, someone.

“Where’s Daddy?” Noah sniffled, wiping at his eyes with tiny fists.

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the sight of them. “Daddy’s at work, love. He left this morning, remember?”

“We want Daddy!”

Leo nodded furiously, his bottom lip trembling. “We wanna go wif Daddy…”

Y/N softened instantly, brushing their curls back gently. “Oh, sweetheart. Daddy’s working, and you guys have to go to school. Remember?”

“But we wanna see him!” Noah insisted, his voice breaking with a hiccup. “We wanna go wif him! We wanna see Daddy work! Please, Mommy!” Now both of them were crying—hiccuping, sniffling, noses all red and runny.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry—Daddy will come home soon.”

“NOOOOOOO,” they both wailed in unison. “WANNA SEE DADDY NOW!”

Y/N exhaled, biting back a fond smile. “Okay, okay—let’s call him, okay?”

The second those words left Y/N’s mouth, both of them perked up just a little, their cries reducing to sniffles as they nodded frantically. Y/N grabbed their phone and pressed Lando’s contact. Within seconds, the call connected, and his face popped up on the screen.

“Hey, love—”

Before he could finish, Noah and Leo started sobbing all over again. “DADDY!!!”

“Whoa—what happened? Why are my two little spider-man crying?”

Noah and Leo immediately scrambled to get closer to the screen. “DADDY!!!” They wailed in unison, tears streaming down their flushed cheeks.

“Oh no, what’s wrong, buddies?” Lando frowned, clearly distressed.

“We wanna go wif youuu!” Leo sobbed, pressing his face against the phone screen as if he could somehow teleport to his father’s side.

“Wanna see you nowwww,” Noah hiccupped, face all scrunched up as more tears streamed down his cheeks.

Lando’s brows knitted together, his lips forming a little pout. “Oh, my babies… I miss you so much too. But I’ll be home soon, yeah?”

“NOOOO!”

At this point, their crying was getting dramatic—shoulders shaking, little gasps in between sobs, faces all blotchy and red. Y/N could hear a few people in the background of Lando’s call chuckling softly, obviously overhearing the whole scene.

Lando looked wrecked. Like, visibly about to drop everything and fly back home. Y/N met his eyes through the screen, and in that moment, they both knew—there was no way they could just let the boys cry like this.

Y/N sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Lando, should we just—"

"Yes. Absolutely yes. Bring them here. I don’t care how, just—just get here."

And that’s how, just a few hours later, Daddy wouldn’t have to miss his boys for long—because now the boys were running straight into their daddy’s arms, giggling through the very same tears they had shed that morning.