#don’t use abo

[eridanus-posessed-microwave]

My dudes.

As an Aboriginal Australian whose family still deals with the trauma and who has lost culture, family and mob from the white Australia policy, colonisation and the stolen generation.

Please. Please understand.

If we say something like ‘please don’t use abo, either put the slashes in so it’s A/B/O or use omegaverse because to an indigenous Australian it is akin to calling an African American the N word’

I’m not invalidating you. I’m using a gods damned analogy.

Telling me it’s disrespectful because it’s not the same.

Look up black birding. Look up the stolen generations. Look up the white Australia policy.

You don’t want to do that- watch rabbit proof fence.

And remember- the girls shown in that movie? It’s their story.

Using an analogy that people know- and I hope to gods everyone knows that the N word, unless you are African American, the n word should not be used- because it points out the severity of it.

So please. If someone says ‘don’t call this cultural group a slur made to dehumanise them because it is the same as calling an African American the n word’ don’t argue with them or tell them they are being disrespectful.

Don’t tell them they don’t know.

Cos honestly? I know a lot more about the cultural struggles and slavery of African people by the English then most people know about Indigenous Australians and the attempted genocide and forced labour.

Kids were still taken away from their families into the 1960’s, never to be returned.

My own family- well. Let’s talk about that. My great-great grandmother? Was twelve when she had her first child.

Her daughter- my great grandmother? Was thirteen. After twelve pregnancies? Her white husband died. So she lied to keep her kids. “No sir, I’m Javanese. I’m not black fella.”

My grandad and his siblings would watch their cousins be dragged away screaming and never saw them again.

Those kids would have likely been adopted into white families- and often not told they were Aboriginal.

But we don’t know the harm a word can cause.

The picture I’ve added? It’s Aboriginal people.

This is ‘not slavery’ in the eyes of some.

If anyone can tell me how to cover pics I would appreciate it. It is disrespectful to view images of our people after they have died but I refuse to have my cultural history invalidated.

[narugen]

i seriously need more narumi and mina moments because just imagine the relief mina felt when narumi joined, similar age to her and was also considered a prodigy in the force.

to have someone to share the burden of the defence force’s future with must’ve felt so freeing. because before he joined it was just her, age 18, being told that she was going to change kaiju extermination with her exceptional synergy with firearms. and she was so, so scared.

narumi doesn’t have the kind of skills or talent for long range combat like she does, but he’s also a top candidate (despite his behavioural issues- which aren’t much of a hinderance anyway) and mina doesn’t have to carry the burden of the future alone anymore

(although she’d never admit, given she probably views narumi as someone completely shocking i just think it’s so funny how she stood there like O_O when she first saw him)

like i LOVE seeing the contrast. mina who was sent onto the battlefield for the first time and was deathly afraid vs narumi who was sent out and immediately took action because that’s how he always lived (fighting)

and now they’re the top two strongest captains in the force and they will be the ones to lead the new generation..

[grabby-smitten]

Enhancers? 😭 omegaverse my beloved. Hybrid AU my beloved. Werewolf AU my beloved.

[zanygamer25]

Hey for fandom sanity reasons I would like everyone to go look up scènes à faire really quick.

Ya cannot own tropes, or scenes readers expect in a certain genre. No one owns a femme fatal in a noir. No one owns the concept of a third act breakup in a romance novel. No one owns the concept of hurt/comfort or earning your happy ending. No one owns fantasy, or ABO/omega verse if you’ll recall that lawsuit from some years back. If someone did not literally take your words as their own in the sphere of fiction they are doing their own thing and you should leave them alone. Please mellow out for your own sanity and happiness.

[fizzytoo]

clearing out my drafts and here are a few fun ones

[humanjarvis]

blushing bandit: part 2

synopsis: when you caught caleb stealing your panties, you'd told him to ask you for the real thing next time. he disobeys.

tags: sub!caleb, dependent caleb, caleb steals your panties again, begging, facesitting, cunnilingus, handjob with used panties, mean reader, dirty talk, sexual condescension, caleb comes untouched (and then touched), overstimulation, slight aftercare, actions/positions may be anatomically challenged idk how any of that works irl pairing: caleb x reader word count: 2.3k

PART 1

a/n: so much love on the last one. i hope i did y'all justice

You’re not sure why your eyes flutter open in the dead of night until you hear the soft groans echoing down the hallway. 

As you come to your senses, a spark of anger dissolves your lethargy. It’s 2 a.m., you’d had a long day, and you really don’t feel like leaving the comfort of your bed to investigate. Whatever he’s getting up to, he can whimper his way through it alone, you think, nestling deeper into your sheets. 

That is, until you hear the faint grunt of your name float through the air, luring you in with the promise of punishment. 

With a grunt of your own, you swing off the mattress and pad down the hall, shivering from the chilled air prickling through your camisole and shorts. Great, and it’s freezing in here. Another grievance to add to the list.

Braving the cold, you come to a stop a few steps from his room, refusing to be caught in the soft light spilling from the cracked doorway. Two days before, Caleb had been reckless—he’d been moving so hastily to catch a glimpse of you touching yourself that you could’ve spotted his shadow with your eyes closed. 

No, you wouldn’t be so careless. This was your grand entrance to make, after all. You’d bide your time, make him wonder if you’d been serious about your request from earlier—if you cared enough to correct his misbehavior. 

Gingerly, you slink to the opposite wall, deftly avoiding the gleam of his floor lamp as you cross to the other side of the doorframe. 

As you peer through the gap in the doorway, holding your breath in anticipation, you expect to see Caleb disobeying the order you’d given him: to come to you for help, to ask you for the real thing. Check.

You expect to see a pair of your panties pressed against his face as he desperately fucks into his hand. Check.

You expect them to be the pair you’d so graciously gifted him two days prior, when you’d made him admit his thefts. But you’d underestimated him, it seems. No check here. 

Because pressed against Caleb’s nose are the lavender panties you’d worn during your trip to the mall this afternoon. He must’ve stolen them from your hamper while you were in the shower. With a quiet scoff, you slip into the room, your footfalls muted by his crescendoing moans and the soft rubs of skin on skin. 

Leaning against the wall in front of him, you take in his writhing form: his trembling hand molding your panties to his face, his muscled chest heaving through inhales, his swollen cock bobbing with his movements. His scrunched-closed eyes blocking the one view that might be able to get him off.

It’s when he huffs in frustration, clearly no longer able to find release without you present, that Caleb opens his eyes. Annoyed, he squints at the ceiling, then at his lamp, before finally spotting you in his periphery. 

You wear a blank expression as he meets your eyes, and flickers of alarm, then relief, then anticipation cross his face. 

Slowly, haughtily, you uncross your arms and push off the wall, stalking toward his bedside to tower over him with a sneer. As your eyes travel down his body, his length throbs under your gaze, and he moves to reach out to you before thinking better of it. With an unimpressed look that you hope masks your arousal, you quirk an eyebrow. “All that effort to disobey me and you couldn’t even come, huh?” 

His cheeks flush, and he looks down at his chest to escape your scrutiny. “I was almost about to—”

“You were almost about to give up and go to sleep with a leaking cock,” you say plainly, earning a garbled choke from the man beneath you. 

Sighing, you climb onto the mattress. “I distinctly remember telling you,” you start, crawling up his body, “the next time you want to get off, you ask me. You come to me.” 

When you reach his waist, you settle your hips onto his abdomen, resting your palms flat on his chest. “And not only do you choose your hand over my help, you also steal from me again. What do I say to that? What should I do with you?”

He feigns contemplation for a moment before smiling up at you, a coy softness in his gaze. “You could show me,” he whispers, circling his thumb on your hip. “Show me why I should come to you. What I've been missing.” 

You snort. 

“Right, of course,” you humor him, rolling your hips into the hard panes of his waist. “I should punish you by giving you a reward. Why didn’t I think of that?”

His hands, which had come up to grip your ass as you moved, flex in response to your teasing. “No,” he corrects, his breathy voice dropping an octave, “you should punish me by using me. Takin’ all your anger out on my face. I stole from you—woke you up, didn’t listen to you, right? Shouldn’t you use me? Put me in my place?”

You know what he’s doing. You fully know what he’s doing, but his display of docility has made you too wet to care. You’re sure he can feel it seeping through your shorts and onto his abs—that’s probably why his pupils push the purple from his eyes, his breaths coming out in soft pants. 

Lightly digging your nails into his pecs, you lean toward him, your cleavage hanging just before his chin. “Okay, Caleb. I’ll use you.” 

Shifting your weight, you inch further up his body, coming to kneel with your legs on either side of his head. Bracing one hand on the headboard, you start lowering yourself toward him, savoring the way he licks his lips in anticipation. 

But it can’t be that easy. If you’re doing this, you’re doing it your way. 

Halfway to his mouth, you pause, suddenly, casting an exaggerated frown down at his eager face. 

“I’m not sure I really should, though—use you, I mean. You were so ready to disobey me, I’m just not convinced. Maybe I should let you keep licking my panties and rutting into your hand—you seemed happy enough doing it earlier. What do you say?” you taunt, moving to lift off him. 

“No,” Caleb whines, bold hands coming to hold you in place above him.

You still in acquiescence—hell, you weren’t going anywhere, anyway—and tut down at him. “No?” you repeat, a mocking lilt in your voice. “Do you deserve it, then?”

You see the impish glint in his eye the moment he thinks of pulling you down himself, but you challenge him with a much less playful glint of your own. In an instant, his mischief fizzles, and his throat bobs in time with the blush blooming on his cheeks. “I deserve it,” he mumbles, his breath fanning your cunt. “Deserve to be used. By you.”

“Mm, you do? Then why don’t you say ‘please,’ Caleb?”

It’s a beautiful moment, the seconds where he almost breaks in desperation. The man who never asks for anything, suddenly forced to beg for everything. But before he can crumble, his faltering, scarlet face twitching from impatience, he schools his expression, returning to the simpering, pliable version of him that only you could bring out.

“…Use me. Let me have the real thing. Please,” he whispers hoarsely, pressing a light kiss to your inner thigh. 

With a fond, appeased smile, you finally sink down on him, aligning his nose with your clit and lips with your sticky heat. When you press flush against his face, he freezes momentarily, his fingers tightening around your hips as deep inhales flutter across your cunt. 

Recovering, he gives you a reverent, chaste kiss before flicking his tongue out, and as the tang of your flavor—right from the source—spreads across his mouth, an impulse to eat consumes his thoughts. In an instant, he parts your folds with a decisive lick, swirling his tongue to taste every part of you he can reach. 

As he explores you in warm, dutiful strokes, you thread your fingers in his hair, tugging up to bump his nose against your clit. When he feels the twitching bud, he pauses to give it an open-mouthed kiss before diving back between your folds. 

“Aw, look at you,” you giggle. “Isn’t this so much better? Imagine how much time we could’ve saved if you’d come to me earlier.” 

At your words, his lips release you with a lewd smack before latching back on with fervor. 

Emboldened by his encouragement, you tighten your hold on his hair and pull him to you, rolling your cunt against his face in a steady grind. Moaning into you at the friction, he bucks his hips involuntarily, and you grin down at him. “This fits you, don’t you think? Being used?” 

Humming against you in agreement, he burrows deeper between your legs, eyes screwed shut in concentration. 

“Eyes on me,” you order, stilling your movements to catch his attention. After a moment, his hazy violet gaze finds yours, and all the confusion he’s capable of mustering is evident on his face. “There he is,” you coo. “You didn’t want to come up, did you? Too shy to look at me?”

He shakes his head ardently, squishing your cunt harder against his lips. 

“No? What was it, then?” 

Conflicted, he whines at your prodding, clearly wanting to answer but unwilling to part from your core long enough to do so.

You laugh softly at his stubbornness before throwing your head back and resuming your earlier pace, dragging your slit up and down his ready mouth. “What, you wanna stay down there forever? Wake up under me, breathe me, live off my cum?”

As the suggestion rings through the air, a few things happen at once. Caleb’s lips detach from you with a wet pop, seemingly against his will, as his eyes roll back and he grips your hips so tightly you think they’ll bruise. 

It’s then that you feel something splatter against your spine, and you look back to catch his engorged, twitching cock spurting thick ropes of cum. As the heavy breaths that punctuate his whimpers fan into you, you conceal the smirk on your face and look down at him with a pout. 

“Already?” you whine playfully. “I haven’t even done what I wanted yet. You won’t wait for me?” 

Still recovering from his high, Caleb can only press a light kiss to your clit—a sign that it’s okay to continue. 

“I guess I’ll have to give you another,” you decide. “I’m feeling generous tonight, in spite of it all.” 

With a wink, you extend an arm to where your panties lay discarded and loop them through your fingers, wearing them like a glove. Threading your other hand in Caleb’s hair to stabilize yourself, you reach back and clasp his pulsing cock, the fabric in your fingers meeting his skin with devastating friction. 

Giving him only a moment to gasp into you, you slide your hand down his length, collecting his seed as you go and ruining yet another pair of your underwear. Once the material is coated with his cum, you repeat your movements—up and down, up and down in time with your thrusts against his face. 

Overwhelmed and overstimulated, he grinds you into him, imprinting his head into the plush pillow beneath. With nowhere left to go and everything left to give, he frantically probes at your entrance, fumbling slightly before finally breaching your hole with his tongue. You gasp at the intrusion, instinctively clamping your legs around his head in defense, which only sucks him further inside. 

Wanton moans falling from your lips, you rock your swollen clit against the bridge of his nose, claiming every part of him as you chase your release. When his flicks and swishes between your walls become too much to bear, you clench around his tongue with a breathy cry and gush into his waiting mouth. As your movements stutter from the pleasure, your hand slips from its place on his cock, and the lace border of your panties snags on his tip. The dual sensations have him coming again, painting his chest and your lower back a milky, translucent white.

In the silence that follows, the only noises in the room your intermixed, shuddering breaths, Caleb laps at your release in continued reverence. When those laps turn to suckles, you clamber off of him before he can start again.

Supporting yourself with your elbows, your feet planted on the bed, you take in his flushed face, drenched with your essence and a mix of your sweat. Between heavy pants, he fixes his imploring gaze on you and reaches out with a whimper, to which you quickly oblige. Crawling to the headboard, you lean your back against it and wrap your arms around his spent body, pressing a long kiss to his damp hair. 

He folds himself into your chest, nuzzling against you, and the decelerating beat of your heart steadies his. Running a hand through his soft strands, you give his scalp a brief massage before asking the question that’s been on your mind from the moment his moans disrupted your sleep. “Caleb?” you murmur into his ear. “You wanted me to hear you, didn’t you?” 

Sluggish, he looks up at you with a blissed-out smile, his unfocused eyes settling on your knowing expression. Wordlessly, he presses one kiss to your wrist, another to the valley of your chest, before nestling back down, his large hand resting on your still-leaking heat.

taglist: @mcdepressed290 @imiqz @silviex

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about a yandere werewolf, but not just any werewolf… a bounty hunter. And he has it bad for his you. Cowboy Werewolf!

Yandere Shorts: Like I Love You

Yandere werewolf x fem reader

TW: obsession, delusional themes, abo dynamic, horror, gore (mentioned), death of characters, neglectful husband, betrayal, cheating husband, forced relationship, mention of baby trapping, and behavior that should not be romanticized

Rolfe was currently on a hunt… his target is a sickly preacher’s, one that should be easy enough. Her own husband had paid him quite the pretty penny to off her. Poor little lamb didn’t stand a chance in the wilderness of this world. Not when she had enemies close to her side such as an unfaithful husband and a conniving best friend. He almost felt sorry for his prey

He arrived a day later, his clawed fingers dragged through a lock of her hair as he inhaled her scent. She smelled… delicious. And she was so vulnerable too with her nape out that just begged for his teeth to be driven into…

Rolfe shook his head before he went back into a trance when she subconsciously leaned into his touch. His hand moved up and grazed her temple that felt as if it were ablaze. Poor woman had a fever…

“Darling? Did you finally come to me?” Her voice was a bit delirious with sickness as she kissed his hands. Each kiss made him feel as if he was her beloved. It took everything in him not to loudly whine like a dog. “I missed you so much James. I’m sorry I got sick again.”

Rolfe didn’t say a word before he continued to drag his rough palms through her hair. His heart hammered in his chest and his wolf clawed inside his brain to be released. It seemed this woman before him… was his fated mate.”

Rolfe bent down and buried his nose into the crook of her neck to deeply inhaled. Oh yes… this lassy was his for the takin.

Rolfe began to slowly nurse her back to health rather than off her. An action that made his employer question him. Why on earth would a monster nurse such a nuisance back to health? She was always near death’s door. What use was such a delicate woman in the Wild West?

“When are you going to off (your name)? She’s an easy target.”

“I have honor as a bounty hunter. It must be a hunt.” Rolfe snarled at (your name)’s husband, James, the man who dared to keep her sick due to his lack of care. Had that scrawny man have no pride as a man? The pastor made him sick.

“She’s easy to pick off right now. I’d really like this to be over and done with so I can marry Helen. This is why I hired a monster-“ Rolfe picked James up from the ground by his throat as James gasped for air.

“You are a foolish, greedy man. Are you sure you are truly a man of god?” Rolfe growled, showing his fangs. His dark, muscular form largely towered over James’s lithe frame. “You’re a pathetic man.”

Rolfe soon went back to the care of (your name). The werewolf rubbed his cheeks all over her bed and her body to scent her… he needed to get rid of James’s scent. Rolfe wouldn’t let another have her and hurt her again… he’d spirit her away.

Rolfe wondered how many pups she’d want. If they’d be pretty like her but strong like him… if she’d pepper him with nips and kisses everyday. If she’d beg him for his knot on the next full moon as he properly mated her?

“Darling?” (Your name) reached for his face and Rolfe was quick to put his face in them. A needy whine escaped his throat while he nuzzled her. She was his precious mate…

He snarled when he saw Helen enter. The woman scoffed at him in disgust.

“Ugh. James and I are tired of waiting. You have been here over a month! We want you gone beast. We’ll do it ourselves.”

“So you’re cancelling the contract?” He hummed while he continued to tenderly kiss (your name)‘a palms. “Are you sure? Did you read the fine print?”

“Yes. We don’t need your kind here, true love will prevail-“ Helen didn’t even have time to scream before a giant black wolf hybrid had dug it’s fangs into her throat and ripped it apart like wrapping paper. Blood splattered all over the floor and walls as Helen could only helplessly choke on her own blood.

“Yes… true love will prevail.” He muttered with a a satisfied hum. “My mate will be so happy.”

Meanwhile, James fled into the forest for dear life. That beast had gotten Helen! The two of them couldn’t believe the werewolf would turn on him.

James loudly leapt when he heard something large chase him through the underbrush on all fours. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel his sweat pool down his back in puddles. He needed to get to the church! A demon such as the bounty hunter couldn’t possibly enter there-

But James was knocked to the ground as an agonized shriek fell from his lips. The werewolf began to shake and mangle his leg like the bloodthirsty beast it was…

“Let me go! Let me go! I didn’t do anything-“

Rolfe chuckled darkly. The black werewolf dropped his legs and glanced his beastly head at James. “Oh but she never did anything either… all she did was foolishly love you.”

“W-what do you mean? Are you talking about-“ James’s words were muffled by the paw like hand that covered his mouth. Rolfe shushed him.

“Shhh. You may have failed to pay me and cancel my contract but I had gotten something far more valuable from this transaction. Something most werewolves dream to find in their lifetimes… a fated mate!” Rolfe sighed dreamily. “You may have failed as a protector and provider, but I surely won’t! You have given me something more valuable than any coin could offer… yet you were neglectful to her. Such a shame really.”

“I… I’ll do anything! Just take her and let me live.”

“Ah but I can’t do that. Not when she still calls for you at night. No… you have to be eliminated. Destroyed, really. You can no longer exist on the same planet as her! You are in the way of my love!”

Loud screams of terror ringed out throughout the crisp night air and then it was silence.

Rolfe returned hours later scrubbed clean of blood while he crawled into the bed with his darling mate. He sighed in contentment when she cuddled him. Yes… it may take time to train her properly, but he was sure he could do it. He could make her love him. Just like he loved her.

[solmire]

Play-fighting with your boyfriend might end up not as you would like to...

modern!sukuna x fem!reader

w/t: modern!Sukuna, he is actually very sweet, mostly fluff, angst if you squint, slight suggesive in the end, possibility of mommy kink

You’ve never thought your play fighting with your grumpy boyfriend!Sukuna would end up with your broken nose.

“Baby, please, let me in.” He says while standing behind a closed bathroom door, impatiently knocking on it.

Another thing you have never imagined happening to you is probably seeing how your strong boyfriend almost starts tearing up just by the look of your face.

“What is with your expression? Do I look so bad right now or what?” You feel uncomfortable under his intense gaze, but the way his jaw clenches, his arms are too shaky so he keeps them behind his back, and his bottom lip keeps getting attacked by his teeth; small wounds are already there, telling you he is scared and ashamed of himself.

Sukuna has a habit of dwelling. Thoughts about being an awful creature: that you deserved someone far better than him always follow his back.

It was your idea to play around, he kept denying your little offers to play-fight, knowing that he might hurt you.

This time you soothed his fear, convincing him that he would never hurt you, but after three minutes you ran to the bathroom after accidentally being hit by Sukuna’s elbow.

You knew you were going to cry, the pain was too much to comprehend in front of Sukuna. Probably if you started crying of pain right in his face, he would break up with you right at the moment, saying that you deserved someone who is not breaking their beloved one’s nose, running away from you and approving that a beast like him does not deserve to be loved.

“I-I am really s-sorry” god, this is your third “I have never ever thought” in last 30 minutes. Sukuna stumbles over his words, his broad shoulders can’t help but starts to shake, and you see how his eyes are red and ready to cry.

“Ooh, my poor baby.” you can’t help yourself but find the whole situation and especially his reaction too cute.

The pain is already forgotten. You take a little step towards him and literally move his head right to your chest, kissing crown of his head and stroking his left cheek.

“It’s okay, I am okay right now, my baby Kuna. Don’t worry.” you look down and see the little blush on his cheeks, no tears ready to spill and the shaking is already gone.

“I am not a baby kuna; stop calling me like that.” It's been less than five minutes since your grumpy boyfriend is back again. He tries to get his head out of your grip, but you use all your strength to still his movements.

“Noooo, my baby kuna, stop moving! My poor nose is hurting, that’s the only way we can heal it.”

“The fuck are you talking abo-“ he couldn’t finish his words, especially when you showed his face near one of your clothed nipples.

“I like to hug you, my baby, but mommy also would like to get some special treatment for fast recovery.”

dividers made by @cafekitsune thank you very much for such beautiful hearts!!

[klemen-tine]

Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)

Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI

TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.

In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.

In case you have never heard this song before, first of all who are you? Secondly here is the link

@Rosecentury 

@Problematicreblogger

@Kurai-hono-blog 

@Lunaluz432

@testishere

Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model. 

Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close. 

E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact. 

“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.” 

The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.” 

“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?” 

“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-” 

“All of them.” 

“...what?” 

“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.” 

“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-” 

“Let's leave tonight.” 

“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.” 

“....Y/N, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story. 

The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief. 

Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee. 

“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.” 

“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”

“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?” 

Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?” 

“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stairs to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different. 

Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more. 

+++

She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card. 

Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money? 

A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. 

“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.” 

“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.” 

“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin. 

Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.” 

Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?” 

“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”

“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though. 

“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones? 

“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.” 

“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.” 

Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.  

“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer. 

“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.” 

“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch. 

“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery. 

“Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry! 

“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!” 

“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.” 

Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret. 

Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark. 

“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot. 

Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace. 

“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone. 

When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this  stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot. 

Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.” 

“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up. 

“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…” 

“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.” 

Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—” 

“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek.  Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling. 

He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified. 

Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children. 

“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her. 

“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.” 

“And what about you?” 

“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.” 

Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.

“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass. 

It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual. 

Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 

++++

It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman. 

However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that. 

Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing. 

They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time. 

They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for. 

When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye. 

Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one. 

Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?” 

Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed. 

He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him. 

In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles. 

Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones. 

“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser. 

Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience. 

Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne. 

After that, Y/N always drank in her room. 

The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).

This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty. 

Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could. 

“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.” 

“I’m an adult.” 

“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched. 

He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer),  but that could have gone bad in so many ways. 

“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted. 

Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity. 

‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him. 

Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it. 

Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality. 

They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love. 

“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair. 

“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror. 

“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…” 

“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.” 

Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.

Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him. 

Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim. 

He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow. 

“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave. 

Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now. 

With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her. 

“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of. 

She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her. 

“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce. 

Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.” 

“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.” 

Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress. 

She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so. 

Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright. 

To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all. 

Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows. 

“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.” 

“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either. 

The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her. 

He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night. 

That they are the Wayne family. 

God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family. 

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.” 

Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her. 

“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.” 

“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile. 

“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.” 

Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips. 

‘I’ll never let you go again.’ 

________________________________________________

Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.

[falesten-iw]

It’s strange when “democracy” means people have to choose between Ivanka’s dad and Ella’s mom, as if that’s supposed to feel empowering. Sure, two bad options don’t feel great, but hey, at least there are options. In some countries, you’d be lucky to get even one choice. And in others? They don’t get elections at all, just a permanent leader who shows up like it’s just another day on the clock. But here democracy feels like a two for one special with a free side of disappointment.

Now that Ivanka’s dad has won. Yes Yes my friend !! Abo Ivanka has won!! And here we are, looking at this system and thinking, “Was this even a choice?” It’s like being asked to pick between plain oatmeal and soggy cereal for breakfast. Sure, it’s technically a choice, but nobody’s excited about it. The two main parties hog the spotlight so completely, they’ve turned “options” into a choice between “slightly bad” and “absolutely dreadful.” And heaven forbid a third-party voice shows up, because here, you need a 50% popularity rating just to get a seat at the grown-ups’ table.

By now, picking a president feels like choosing between the flu and food poisoning. The two big parties are so close in their love for big donors, it’s like watching rival soap operas funded by the same network. We call it “democracy,” but it feels like a rigged game, with mega-donors pulling the strings while the rest of us are just the audience, sitting here with popcorn, hoping the plot somehow gets better.

Sure, many lean toward the Democrats, thinking they’re the “better” choice. But from where I’m sitting, especially as a Palestinian, neither side looks promising. Take Gaza: Democrats have left it in ruins, like a bulldozer at a sandcastle competition, with 80% of the infrastructure leveled and 90% of the people displaced. Now Ivanka’s dad is in charge, and, honestly, we’re past worrying about escalation, because there’s nothing left to escalate to. At this rate, they have already broken the records for destruction and the number of martyred, but the looming fear now is if there’ll be any Gaza left to talk about.

For Palestinians, for Gaza, for much of the world, this isn’t “democracy”; it’s a magic show where they tell you to pick a card, but no matter what you choose, it always comes back to the same card: disaster.

And now, winter’s arrived in Gaza. The nights there? Let’s just say, they’re colder than the stare you’d get from a #### who’s been asked to pay $12 or 15 for a black coffee. My family, like so many others, is living in a tent, a “tent” being a generous word for a few sheets trying to pass for walls. The wind comes in from every side, and huddling under thin blankets in this weather is like fighting a snowstorm with a paper towel. The cold bites to the bone, and there’s no escape; it’s like nature’s way of reminding us we’re still here, exposed.

If you can, please consider donating. Even the smallest help means warmth on a freezing night, a bit of comfort in the middle of a relentless winter. It’s a glimmer of hope for my family and trust me, it’s more welcome than soggy cereal ever could be.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 250 SEK is equivalent to 25 dollars, and 506 SEK equals 50 dollars and so on.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

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[adelheidvonschicksal]

Nsfw scenarios/hcs for the LADS boys with their MC in ABO!AU (Idl if I wrote this right 😅) please? Like how they marked their mates, how they treated their mates during the rut and heat, etc.

+ Omegaverse, sexual content, alpha boys/omega reader, female reader

General

9/10 possessiveness level

Xavier is the most possessive of the main boys and gets jealous the easiest. He may seem calm about other alphas standing a little too close or talking a little too long to his mate, but the tension in the air is thick and unpleasant. There's a specific eery calmness to his face and falsely polite tone to his voice when he happens to cut into the conversation. He always wants to know the topic of conversation when you talk to anyone who has his suspicion. Xavier suddenly gets a little needier than usual, always trying to figure out a way to draw your attention back to himself. Or, purposely sliding an arm around your waist and holding you close in a silent hint that whoever is talking to you should back off, or he will drop his head against your shoulder, saying he’s tired, and asking you to hurry up so you can go home together,  he emphasizes. His last resort isn't pretty. 

While calm, he has a little of a competitive streak with others, whether that means scoring higher in your hunter team battles or building the largest snowman together. He is competitive for your attention against those he thinks are interested in you; and when he has you alone, he insists on scenting you or mating you. You better be prepared to hide large bite marks or hickeys by the time he’s done claiming you.

Protective Level: 6/10

Xavier has no problem with you running about your daily life. He has confidence that you’re strong and don’t necessarily need much protection. He only insists on coming with for two things: (one) if he’s jealous of the person you’re meeting or (two) if you’re going somewhere to fight on your own.

As long as he’s around, he’s confident that things will work out fine. However, he gets extremely protective when you’re hurt, asking for you to stay behind him, rushing ahead to be the vanguard, and trying to take on the brunt of everything himself. And if you get hurt being rash, prepare for him to be upset with you and insist that you allow him to protect you more.

Scenting

Scent: Fresh Linen

Xavier smells good, but there isn’t something to pinpoint about his scent that is unique to him. Simply put, he smells clean, like freshly dried laundry with a touch of lavender.

Xavier loves covering you in his scent, cuddling and sleeping with you until you’re no longer entirely sure what your scent smells like not mixed with his. He scents your things, like your plushies, before you even need to ask. 

He likes to tease you, asking if you want him to scent his hoodies even more since you take them so much, and he’s always happy to oblige. His first instinct to calm you down consists of three options: scenting, cuddles, and food, in that order.

Mating

Xavier already likes to mate with his partner a lot, like a constant rut minus the attitude that comes with it; always wrapping his arms around you, nudging the back of your neck, and lightly coercing the situation to where he wants it to end up whenever the opportunity shows itself.

In a rut, he’s twice as easy to rile up and much more direct about wanting to be alone with you, wanting to hold you and shove his head into the divot of your neck, and audibly inhaling your scent. You can already feel him against you in more ways than one.

He doesn’t waste his time trying to play games with you during this time, choosing to show you exactly how much he wants you before taking charge. You’re burnt out by his energy when you’re used to him napping right after a round or two. This time he isn’t letting up, but he promises that he’ll treat you so well, promises that he’ll get you there twice in exchange for letting him have one more time, as if you're aren't already overstimulated with jellied legs.

He asks if you're already tired. He'll let you sleep but can he at least squeeze and kiss you while he uses his hand. He promises to clean his mess if it gets on you. He'll be good, he swears, and he's so puppy eyed that you let him.

When he finally is tired, he’ll fall asleep while inside you. His knot stopped swelling a long time ago, but he enjoys your warmth around him as he nuzzles the back of your head.

Xavier does his best to tend to his mate when they’re in heat. He’ll get warm compresses and try his best to cook for you (most likely failing) and offer to nap with you when you’re in pain. He’ll let you use him how you want as long as it makes you feel better, whether that’s using his hands, mouth, or knotting you.

There’s a small bit of worry from him, with the way he asks,

“Where do you need it?” “Like this?” “Are you sure you only want my fingers? It’s okay to ask for more.” “Open your legs wider. You don’t have to be embarrassed. It's only me." "Next time, I'll let you take care of me, deal?

You’re so cute like this, needing and wanting him, but he hates how it causes you pain.

General

3/10 possessiveness level

Rafayel tends to have confidence that he can have you before anyone else, trusting your judgment to take care of yourself. He also has pretty high esteem of himself when it comes to the social world. A few properly chosen words is usually enough to get any seducer to back off. Rafayel can’t believe someone else could possibly think they’d have a chance with you when you have him.

As repentance, he wants you to do things for him after little incidents like that. It’s so exhausting chasing lesser alphas off, after all. Whether he’s serious or not when he says he could use some affection after his omega so cruelly ignored him for another alpha remains to be determined.

If there ever is a time where he feels insecure or jealous, he isn’t above trying to cut off someone’s relationship with you. If it comes to threats so be it, but it will end. It doesn’t matter if it’s from your side or the pursuer. It’s an ultimatum, either him or the other person, but not both.

He has a bigger concern about you not needing or growing bored of him than falling in love with someone else. Otherwise, he tends to have faith in you.

Protectiveness Level: 8/10

Rafayel knows you’re strong. Trust him—a twisted arm and playfights abound—he knows. But you are also bulledheaded and naïve. He worries you might end up getting yourself injured; or worse, killed.

So, he’s observant as always, watching for any suspicious activities with the people you’re around, whether warranted or not. He wouldn’t just do that for anyone, only for his precious mate and also for his precious peace of mind. He tends to operate from the background to not be too overbearing, but he doesn’t mind being the one to step in—to get hurt—if it means keeping you safe.

Scenting

Scent: Beach Sand with a Hint of Citrus

Rafayel smells of white beach sand and tropical fruit. He smells like the first hint of salt air and the ocean breeze and mineral. It reminds you of family vacations and old memories. He insists most Lemurians have scents like these, but his is special! It's the only one that mixes so lovely with yours.

He does scent you when you ask, but he requests that you do the same. It’d be much better for you to scent each other. He loves to tease you when you ask him to scent things for you.

“If you like it so much maybe I should make it into a perfume.” But he’d hate it if you actually agree. “Wait, let’s not be too hasty. A perfume really can’t compete with the natural source.”

Mating

Rafayel dislikes his mating cycle only because he dislikes losing his sense of control over himself. But when you’re there, with your scent clouding his mind, it’s all bets off. He’s so needy and HAS to have you. He feels like he’ll die if he isn’t burying himself in your scent, your presence, in you. He needs to feel your hands on him and isn’t below demeaning himself or being more forceful than usual to get it.

He’ll constantly seek you out, calling you late at night. He has nothing to say. He just needed to hear your voice, just keep breathing for him, he’s almost there. He needs you to come over to his place right now. It’s all your fault he’s burning like this. You need to get there immediately and take responsibility before he goes insane. He's already dizzy and his hand isn’t cutting it anymore.

In person, he grabs your hand, and the look in his eyes is begging in place of his mouth that’s too heavy with pants to talk straight as he savors your touch, desperate and gluttonous. 

“Right there...don't make me beg…just a little bit longer.” “I need to feel you. There. You feel incredible.” “If you want my knot, you can have it. Say you want it for me, and I’ll give it to you. Say it.”

When it’s your turn to go manic, he’s going to have his revenge for all the bullying and petting you did while he was rutting. He’s going to coo and fawn over how much you need him, and make you ask him nicely for his touch, but he’ll always give in to his little mate. He knows what’ll make you feel good, and he’s going to give it to you in due time. He thinks you look so pretty when you’re about to cum, covered in sweat, body tensing, the shallow, quick breaths.

“I wish I could paint you like this, but I don’t want to look away.” “Do you really want me to breed you that bad? Don’t say you didn’t ask for it.”

Rafayel is going to make sure you have an easy time, clearing out your schedule for you and letting you stay in the studio with him. Thomas' calls are going to go unanswered for a while.

General

6/10 possessiveness level

Zayne is able to get jealous; however, he isn’t one to distrust you. It’s other people he doesn’t trust. He’ll drop hints he doesn’t like something you’re doing, a sarcastic jab here, a polite warning there, and even a “you should be careful of the company you keep.”. He always introduces himself as your mate to ensure there are no misconceptions about your relationship with him.

Zayne occasionally has to remind you that he’s your partner especially when you insist on teasing him and being a brat, poking at that jealous side of his to rile him up. It doesn’t take long for you to get the idea after having him between your legs. It’s really more of a funny thing, seeing him possessive, because he becomes a lot more short-tempered but absolutely refuses to admit he’s being possessive.

However, he calms relatively easy with some reassurance, and he doesn’t care as much if someone likes you after he knows you have zero interest in them. It’s more of an annoyance than something for him to fear.

Protectiveness Level: 10/10

Zayne is always so worried about you. He always has to tell you to be careful, to watch where you’re stepping so you don’t trip, to not drink too much without him there to take you home, and to watch for injuries. It might be a bit of his doctor attitude coming out, but it’s so much worse when it comes to you. You know no one else who adds the weather of the city you’re in to confirm you’re okay.

He’s also protective of your mental wellbeing; he tends to be the rock you rely on. If someone is bothering you, you can tell him, and he’ll be sure to handle the issue immediately.

Scenting

Scent: Bamboo Forest

Zayne smells like bamboo forests, a mix of floral and earthy. It kind of reminds you of him, calm and quiet but strong and solid like the earth. Fresh, green, and slightly woody. It smells like nature.

He scents you when you ask, and he quietly scents you when he wants, always overthinking if it’s something you want him to do or appropriate at a given point in time. It doesn’t take long for him to become better at knowing when you want it, when to leave something with his scent for you when you’re upset, and when to simply cradle you against him. His mood improves exponentially whenever you shove your face into his chest and mumble about how good he smells.

Zayne loves the way you smell. It’s a familiar and comforting thing to have your scent greeting him after a hard day at work. It lets him know you’re doing okay, and he gets worried whenever your scent is off. He can usually tell the slightest changes of your mood, and it makes him agitated whenever you try to pretend you’re fine when he can clearly tell different from smell alone.

Mating

Zayne tries his best to control himself and avoid you during his ruts. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, which leads him to being too restrained whenever he’s with you to the point where you can tell he’s not handling himself well.

It’s going to take a few times to convince him that you can handle it, that he can let go and give you everything before he finally allows himself to dive into his hormones, throw you against the bed, and kiss you hard. It's almost like a completely different side of him. Sure, he could always be dominant in the bedroom but there was always a control to it. Instead, he's instinctive, running off the rush of endorphins to reach the peak he desperately wants to tumble over, harsh and tunnel visioned as he chases the sensation of you clamping down around his knot.

“Hold it there, we’re almost there. You can handle it.” “Let me have you a few more times. Then, you can rest.” “Good girl. You’re doing so well. So good to me.”

During your time, he is meticulous. Zayne knows you almost as well as you know yourself, knows what sweets you like to eat, what positions make you the most comfortable, and tips on how to keep yourself together.

That only works so long, however, and soon he takes a more hands on approach in helping you through your heat cycle. His fingers curled up inside you, pushing that sweet springy spot inside you that has your juices pouring over his palm. He shushes you as you beg for him to give you more and more, to please stop this edging and fuck you already.

He promises he’ll make it good, but he has to slowly work you up first, so you won’t get overstimulated. Then, he’ll give you what you want until you pass out.

“Hold still, or do you want me to stop?” “Does it feel that good? I’ll be sure to remember that for next time.” “See what happens when you follow directions?” “You’ll have your reward soon. Which do you prefer to have—my fingers or my knot?”

Zayne also takes special care of you no matter the situation, making sure to wipe you off and hold a warm rag to your swollen and puffy cunt as he makes out with you. He scents you heavily afterward and lets you fall asleep against him until it all starts over again.

[ink-n-shadow]

*keysmash* ABO pack!141 is chef's kiss amazing! I especially love how you made Johnny the Omega. Maybe reader is the good girl Omega to counteract Johnny's brattiness? (I would love you forever if you wrote that pretty pretty please)

don't mind me, just leaving another slightly self-indulgent a/b/o smut

BAD DOG

𝜗𝜚 the one where omega!johnny's been bad

𝜗𝜚 pairing: pack!141 x reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), brat!johnny, punishments, fingering (reader!receiving), oral (reader!receiving), johnny referred to as a dog, leash/collar use, you're being rewarded

johnny (just like reader) has his good days and bad days. some days he’s the sweetest and most patient boy, like sometimes simon doesn’t even have to breathe a word for johnny to do what he’s told—simon just gives him a slight quirk of the brow, and johnny’s scrambling to be at his side. these are the days johnny’s rewarded handsomely, bundled up against simon’s side or nuzzled in price’s lap and practically melting at the feeling of blunt nails scratching at his scalp and the gruff sounds of praise dripping from one of his alphas lips. sometimes when he’s been this good, he gets to either fill you up without consequence or play with you to his heart’s content.

but these good days (at least for johnny) are usually few and far between because lets face it: johnny’s a masochistic brat, especially when he’s in heat. he acts like a feral mutt whenever the muzzle comes out, but the second it’s as secured around his mouth as the cage around his cock is, he’s sitting pretty and trying not to drool at the way his sensitive tip presses against the metal with each throb of his cock. he secretly loves how quickly his brain shuts off, eyes growing heavy and tongue lapping at his chapped lips with every heavy pant of breath.

the only punishment johnny doesn’t like is when he’s slotted between simon’s thigh, tethered to the alpha’s large hand with a chain leash and collar and forced to face forward towards one of the beds in your shared bedrooms. price has you splayed out with your back against his chest, your thighs wrenched apart by his own and his hand stuffing three fingers inside of your slick hole. there’s a creamy froth surrounding where your arousal ended and price’s fingers began, the only evidence of johnny’s misdeed. with each twist and roll of price’s fingers deeper and deeper inside of you, a silky mixture of your slick and johnny’s cum drips from between your thighs, and if it wasn’t for kyle’s tongue lapping earnestly at both your slick skin and price’s drenched fingers, the sheets beneath you would be more ruined than they currently are.

johnny hates having to sit there and watch, held in place by the leash and simon’s heated gaze on the back of his neck. he can’t help himself sometimes and tries to inch himself closer to the footboard, only for simon to pull harder on the leash and send him fumbling backwards into the alpha’s lap.

“the fuck you think you’re doin’, mutt? been a bad dog today, ‘member? bad dogs don’t get treats, so sit,” and the gravel to simon’s words have johnny sitting up straighter, keeping his sniveling to a minimum as he watches you fall apart around price’s fingers and against kyle’s tongue.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[thenorthsource]

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half body, colored and shaded, two characters, 65$

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[theywantedplayer]

They call you drunk and confess

Trevor, Cole, Luke, Quinn

masterlist

prompt list (new ones)

Trevor

“Y/nnnnnn!” Trevor sang into the phone, his voice loud and unmistakably drunk.

You blinked at your screen, squinting in the dark. 1:00 a.m. on a Tuesday. Makes sense

“Hi, Trevor,” you muttered, voice thick with sleep. “How drunk are you—”

“BRO WHY the fuck are we not dating?” he blurted out, completely cutting you off.

You actually laughed at his forwardness

“Don’t laugh at me!” he whined. You could practically hear the pout on his face. “This is a genuine question.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you teased, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Maybe because you call me bro all the time?”

“Yeah, romantically, obviously,” he huffed, as if you should have known that. “But, we would be so good together bro”

You laughed again but shot back, “Bro, you send me random insta real dashcam footage at ungodly hours of the morning, how was I supposed to know?”

“Okay, so it's weird when you call me bro, Y/N,” he said, like that was the real issue at hand. “And I send you those because they’re funny! You gotta read between the lines.”

“What lines, Trevor?!” you asked, fully awake now, still in disbelief.

“I dunno!” he admitted, then gasped. “BUT what I do knowwwwww,” he dragged out dramatically, “is that you haven’t denied anything I said.”

You bit your lip, smiling despite yourself. “I know I haven’t.”

“Sooooo we’re dating now, basically,” he concluded.

“Wait, how did we just jump from here to that?” you asked, laughing

“You like me, me like's you so, boom, we’re dating.” He said it so simply, like it was basic math.

“Trevor-”

“Nope, nope, it’s final! We’re dating. Y/N and I are dating!” he cheered “I’m gonna hang up before you can say anything else because we’re dating now, goodnight Y/N, bye-bye.”

And just like that, he hung up.

You stared at your phone, listening to the dead dial tone.

Did you just… get drunk-declared into a relationship?

Were you complaining, though?

Quinn

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Quinn said into the phone, his voice slightly unsteady.

“What’s up, Quinner?” you responded, putting him on speakerphone as you flipped through your notes, you had a midterm in three days, and you had been studying for hours on end while he and his teammates were doing drinks by the sound of hughes voice.

You heard him take a deep breath, hesitating.

“Quinn, is everything okay?” you asked, shifting your full attention to the phone.

“Yup,” he hiccupped. “Just a little drunk.”

You smiled. “Well, you deserve it. You guys won big tonight, congrats.”

“Yup,” he hiccupped again, then groaned. “But that’s hiccup not what I wanna talk abo—hiccup—about.” His voice was barely above a mumble, his words slurring together.

“Speak up, Quinn. I can barely hear you,” you teased.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, then groaned again. “God, I’m never drinking again.”

You chuckled softly. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“Nooo, no, I know you’re studying,” he argued. then, he blurted out, “God, Y/N, you work so hard. Like, so fucking hard.”

Your smile grew as you shrugged your shoulders. “I try.”

“Like, it’s a good thing I play hockey, cause I hated school. Uni was okay, though mostly just hockey and drinking.” He rambled, then suddenly sighed. “Fuck, anyways Y/N, I love you so much. You have no idea.”

“I wish you came out with us tonight after the game,” he continued, voice softer now. “You looked so good in my jersey, and my mom told me about the chirps you were yelling. Fuck, I wish I could’ve seen that. Would’ve been so hot.”

You laughed, he kept going.

“Just let me finish before you reject me, okay? Let’s be nice here,” he mumbled, and you could hear the small smile in his voice. “I wanna take you out so bad, Y/N. Please let me take you out.”

You bit your lip, heart swelling.

“Quinn,” you said gently, “I have to tell you something.”

“Nooooo,” he groaned. “Fuck, which asshole beat me to it?”

You laughed softly. “Quinn.”

“Mmhmm?”

“We’re already dating, sweetie. We have been for a while.”

There was silence on the other end.

Some guys might get reckless and cheat on their girlfriends when they’re drunk, but even when Quinn was blackout wasted, he was still confessing his love to you all over again. Even if he forgot he's already done that.

You heard him inhale sharply.

“Wait,” he muttered under his breath. “No way. When did I ask you?”

“About a year and a half ago,” you reminded him, grinning.

“And you said yes?”

“Yes, Quinn,” you giggled. “Without a second thought.”

Another beat of silence.

“Quinn—”

“I love you,” he interrupted softly. “Can you maybe come get me and take me home?”

You smiled as you stood up, already grabbing your keys. “Yes, Quinn. I’ll drive you home.”

A moment later, he mumbled, “Do we live together too?”

You chuckled. “We do.”

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered, like he had just won the lottery.

Cole

Your phone rang, you squinted at the screen, Cole Caulfield.

Made sense since he and the guys went out after their big win tonight. You sighed, already bracing yourself, before swiping to answer.

“Hello?”

For a solid five seconds, all you heard was chaos.

Cole yelling something, his teammates yelling back. Laughter. A very loud thunk, then More laughter.

“Cole?” you tried, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Do you need me to come get you?”

No response from him just more indistinct yelling in the background. You groaned, tossing your blanket off your legs and sitting on the edge of your bed.

Then, finally

“Yo, Y/N!” Cole’s voice rang out, overly excited, like a little kid. “You picked up!!”

You exhaled a laugh. “Yeah, do you need me to pick you up?”

“YES. Y/N, you should totally come out!!!” He sounded thrilled about this idea. Then, away from the phone, you heard him yell, “GUYS, Y/N’S COMING OUT!”

ok, so that's not what I said. Like at all. you thought

“Ooooo, your girlfriend’s coming!” one of them teased.

“FUCK YEAH, CAULFIELD!” another cheered. “YOU FINALLY TOLD HER?”

You froze, mid-brushing your hair. Told me what? you thought.

On the other end, Cole groaned. “Shut up,” he whined.

you couldn’t see the way he dramatically tilted his head back in frustration, hands at his sides.

“She doesn’t know.”

His teammates roared with laughter, one of them slapping him on the back.

“Ohhh, buddy,” someone chirped. “That’s tough.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you slipped on your shoes. This was gold.

Then, Cole’s voice came back, a little more serious.

“I gotta send her the address.”

What followed was a solid ten seconds of complete silence, except for his teammates snickering as Cole, very drunkenly, squinted at his phone, trying to focus on the screen.

“Holy fuck, look at this kid,” someone chirped, clearly watching him struggle.

“Shut up,” Cole muttered, still glaring at his phone like it had personally wronged him in a way.

Then, suddenly, horrifying realization.

Your name.

At the top of the screen.

Call in progress: 5 minutes, 12 seconds.

His eyes widened and His stomach dropped.

“…Y/N?” he asked, voice hesitant.

“Yes, Cole?” you answered sweetly, already backing out of your driveway.

“You’re… still on the here?” He asked practically wincing

“Yes, Cole.” You grinned. "I'm still here"

From the background, Slaf burst out laughing. “NO FUCKING WAY, SHE HEARD ALL THAT?!”

Cole just nodded numbly, still staring at his phone.

You, meanwhile, were having the time of your life.

“Made my night, honestly,” you teased. "Just wait till I tell you my thoughts, I know you'll like them"

The line went quiet for a second.

Then, Cole clearly regaining some confidence piped up.

“So you are coming out?” he asked hopefully.

You chuckled. “Only because I like you so much.”

On the other end, Cole silently fist-pumped the air, mouthing a victorious “YES”

but really you where taking his drunk ass home

Luke

Luke was drunk. Like, very drunk to drunk.

Jack had been feeding him shots all night, and now he was slumped over the bar table, long limbs sprawled out and completely invading his brother’s space, well, at the same time he called you on his phone.

You answered as soon as he finally managed to hit the call button.

“Hey, Lu.”

Luke groaned dramatically, head still against the table. “What are you doing?”

Jack, trying to enjoy his plate of nachos, shoved at Luke’s arm. “Dude, move. I’m trying to eat.”

Luke barely lifted his head, slurring, “Suck my dick, dude.”

Jack didn’t even hesitate. “That’s Y/N’s job, not mine.”

Luke shot upright so fast he nearly knocked his phone out of his own hand. His grip tightened around it like his life depended on it.

“SHHHHHH she’s on the phone, dude!!!” he whispered-yelled, completely panicked. “If she hears that, I’ll never get to make a move, then she'll never become my girlfriend so keep your mouth shut!"

Jack, deadpan, just stared at him.

Then, very slowly, his gaze shifted to something beside Luke.

Luke blinked, confused, before turning his head

And there you were. Standing right there.

Luke froze. His mouth fell slightly open, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Did he forget I was here?” you asked Jack.

Jack nodded immediately.

You grinned. “God, how many drinks did you give him?” you asked as you sat beside Luke

Jack smirked as he stood up. “I’m gonna go get this kid some food.” He slapped the table before walking off.

“Can you get me some nachos too?” you called after him.

Jack gave you a quick nod.

And then you turned your attention back to the Luke Hughes, who was suddenly the quietest person in the world.

You nudged his arm, smiling. “Why so quiet, huh? What were you and Jack talking about?” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully.

Luke shook his head, still staring at the table, muttering, “Dunno.”

You smirked. Bingo.

“Really?” you teased, leaning in a little closer. “Because I heard some great news…” You tilted your head. “Something about me having a chance to be a girlfriend?”

Luke immediately gave you side-eye, his drunk brain scrambling to process whether this was a setup or not.

“…Did I hear that right?” you pressed, grinning.

Luke squinted at you, trying so hard to read your expression but he was too drunk to even read the menu right now.

“Depends on your answer,” he finally said, still side eyeing you.

Your heart skipped a little, but you played it cool.

You glanced over at the bar, Jack was on his way back, somehow balancing three plates of nachos. Impressive, considering he couldn't even remember Luke’s jersey number half the time when he was drinking.

You turned back to Luke quickly, wanting to have his moment to yourself even if he was drunk off his ass and before your drinks kick in witch you could feel creeping up on you.

“I think you’re gonna like my answer, Luke.” You winked, giving his thigh a light pat.

Luke froze again.

His brain is going a mile a minute, and the alcohol not helping with that

Meanwhile, Jack plopped the nachos onto the counter, making a loud clattering noise as he did.

You grabbed your plate, then grabbed Luke’s and slid it in front of him, expecting him to immediately dig as he normally did. But he didn’t move.

You glanced over and that’s when you saw it.

The biggest, dopiest, cheesiest grin slapped across his face.

he couldn’t believe what you just said, or more hinted at.

You bit back a smile and shook your head, turning your focus back to your nachos.

But Luke? He just kept staring at you for a little longer, grinning like an idiot, before finally shaking his head, chuckling to himself, and happily digging into his nachos.

Yeah. He definitely liked your answer even though you only hinted at it

[gf2bellamy]

hi lovely,

i hope you enjoyed your birthday :D

i’ve had this idea for a while but i don’t think i’ll personally be able to write it so i thought you possibly could, it’s where spence and reader sit on the same seats on the jet every time they fly and it’s always next to each other, and reader is on his left. the whole team knows about their relationship and they think it’s really cute. the thing is, both spencer and reader are left handed so they can never hold hands under the table if they need to write on their files, because of this, spencer learns to be ambidextrous so he can write with his right hand and hold reader’s right hand with his left simultaneously. i’ve always found this really cute but i never knew if it would work.

again i hope you enjoyed your birthday :) thank you so so much for everything you’ve done for me and everyone else, you’re a star !!

- 🐚

ambidextrous — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing ! a/n: hiii !! thank you so so much !! this is such a sweet idea and soooo spencer <3 i love it and i hope you like this <3

Every time you boarded the jet, you always sat in the same seats—Spencer on the right, you on the left. You and Spencer didn’t even need to discuss it. It was simply tradition.

At first, the team had noticed. They'd raised their eyebrows, made a few teasing comments, but over time, it had become a familiar scene.

Now, it was just the way things were.

No one ever mentioned it anymore—there was no need. A glance, a small, almost imperceptible smile from the others when they saw the two of you settled in your spots was enough.

Yet, there was one small problem.

You were both left-handed.

It wasn’t a big issue, not really. It was just one of those small quirks of life that made the otherwise easygoing routine of the jet slightly…awkward at times.

It first became apparent the time you tried to hold Spencer's hand during a flight. You’d been reading through your notes for the case when you found yourself glancing at him. You’d reached out absentmindedly, your fingers brushing against his. He froze for a second, looking down at your hand before lifting his gaze to meet yours.

"Just need to finish this," he’d murmured, offering you an apologetic smile of his.

You’d nodded, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Oh, right. Sorry,” you’d muttered, settling back into your seat with a soft sigh.

The problem, however, became more noticeable the more time you spent together on the jet. When you’d be deep in thought, scribbling down notes, you’d often catch him doing the same.

But then, you’d both hesitate, realizing what was happening at the same time.

“Oh, sorry, just—” You’d start, only for him to quickly reassure you with a quiet, “It's fine. I'll wait until you're done.”

At first, you didn’t realize what he was doing. You started catching little things—him writing slowly with his right hand while reading something, small scribbles in the margins of his notebook in a shaky, uncertain print.

You thought maybe he was just testing something out, or maybe he was bored.

But then one day, Spencer casually reached over with his left hand and took your right one, lacing your fingers together under the table.

Your heart fluttered, a small, surprised smile tugging at your lips.“You don’t have to stop writing just because of me,” you whispered, keeping your voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

“I’m not.”

You blinked, glancing down at the open file in front of him.

Sure enough, Spencer was still writing.

With his right hand.

Your brows furrowed slightly.

“Since when do you write with your right hand?” Spencer’s lips twitched.

“Since I realized I couldn’t hold your hand if I didn’t.”

Your breath hitched.It took you a second to process what he had just said. “You learned to be ambidextrous? Just so you could—”

You broke off, warmth spreading through your chest so fast it almost made you dizzy. He had changed something about himself—something as basic and fundamental as the way he wrote—just so he could hold your hand.

Spencer flushed slightly but held your gaze. “I mean, it’s not perfect yet,” he admitted, glancing at his writing. “My handwriting is kind of terrible like this, but I figured with enough practice…”

With a smile, you squeezed his hand tightly.

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you mumbled, your voice thick with emotion.

Spencer’s shy smile widened, and he squeezed your hand back just a little tighter.

[sunshinesfreckless]

Non-Disclosure Pregnancy

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Pairing: Idol!Felix x Fem!Reader

Summary: How do you confront the man who got you pregnant when you signed a piece of paper that specifically told you to stay quiet?

A/N: I had this thought while rewatching Nana… when I saw this weird creature called Takumi becoming a father, and I just thought, hell yeah, I got an idea. Sorry if it seems a bit rushed—it was just a quick short story in my notes app again.

Warnings: I don’t know, man. Mentions of condoms and sex?

────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ────

She could still feel the small plastic stick in her hand. How the two plus signs stared back at her. How, despite their pale colors, they had burned themselves deep into her mind.

Positive… positive… po—

“Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist called.

Y/N looked up.

“The doctor is expecting you.”

Y/N grabbed her bag and jacket and stood up.

 ୨ৎ

“Congratulations, Miss Y/L/N…” The doctor smiled as she handed her the document, confirming it once again. Positive. Y/N looked at the doctor, who immediately noticed the lack of enthusiasm. “We can discuss your options… in case you’re not ready to become a mother,” the doctor said cautiously. Y/N remained silent.

“Adoption… surrogacy… abo—”

Y/N shook her head.

“I… I’m not sure yet, you know?”

The doctor nodded understandingly.

“Problems with the father?”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh.

“Yeah… yeah, something like that.”

 ୨ৎ

She put on her jacket and glanced over at the pregnant woman scheduling an appointment. Her belly was much bigger than Y/N’s… but then again, Y/N was only in her second month.

She quickly left the clinic, walking down the stairs. As she pushed open the door, that damned poster blinded her once again—the one she had been trying to avoid.

“Problems with the father?”

Y/N looked up. Stray Kids stared back at her. But her focus was locked on one member—the one with long, blonde hair. The one who had whispered sweet nothings into her ear while taking her in an expensive hotel room.

 ୨ৎ

“Felix,” he had said, smiling. Y/N set down the cashier scanner she had been using to check out the two men’s groceries.

She turned to the man standing behind him. They were both wearing masks—except for Felix, who had pulled his down. Her gaze returned to Felix. “Can I help you? Are you looking for something?” The man behind Felix laughed, making both Y/N and Felix glance at him. “Hyunjin, knock it off,” Felix murmured before turning back to her. “No, I know where everything is, thanks. I was actually… I was actually looking for you.”

“Me?”

Y/N stared at him, confused. He had such delicate features…

She felt almost hypnotized by the beauty of this man.

Felix slid something across the counter toward her. She lowered her gaze to their groceries.

 ୨ৎ

“Condoms are provided,” the manager said. Y/N gave him an understanding nod. “Not that I’d poke a hole in them, huh?” She laughed nervously.

The manager didn’t even flinch.

“Oooohhh… okay sensitive Topic, sorry.”

She clicked the pen with the JYP logo on it. The room she was in felt sterile. So… uncomfortable. She glanced once more at the document in front of her. The three letters NDA stood out the most.

“If I break these rules, then what?”

The manager sighed. He had already explained it to her several times. “Then it will be expensive for you, Miss.” She pressed her lips together. With slightly trembling hands—when had they started trembling?—she signed the document after checking all the necessary boxes. She slid it across the table to the lawyer sitting opposite her. The lawyer packed up the NDA, stood up wordlessly, and left. “Follow me, please,” the manager murmured.

“How often do you have to do things like this?” Y/N asked as she quickly got up, grabbing her bag.

“I don’t disclose that information.”

He opened the door to the small conference room.

Y/N winced as her sneakers squeaked against the expensive flooring.

Seoul’s most luxurious hotel. Her cheap shoes. Not a great combination.

She took a nervous breath as she stood in the elevator beside the manager. He noticed her tension. “It’s not a dentist appointment,” the manager said. “Well… this doesn’t exactly happen every day either,” Y/N mumbled, gripping her bag tighter.

“Felix is nice. Don’t worry.”

“Are you seriously giving me reassuring words right now?”

The manager stepped out of the elevator, and she followed him.

“Then why were you so mean to me in that little room?”

The manager rolled his eyes and unlocked a door.

He handed her a card.

“He’ll be here any moment. Please give me your phone.” Y/N quickly nodded and fumbled through her bag to find it. The manager placed it in a small plastic sleeve he had pulled from his pocket and gave her a thin smile before leaving, letting the door fall shut behind him. Y/N glanced around.

The curtains were drawn, the bed neatly made.

Only now did it truly sink in—what she was about to do—when someone else opened the door.

୨ৎ

She tried to remember if there was anything in her contract about what happens when you get pregnant by the idol you spent a very passionate night with… Y/N bit her lower lip as she desperately tried to think. She looked away from her tea and out at the view in front of her. That view was the JYP building. She probably looked like one of the fangirls sitting in the café, pacing up and down, waiting for one of the idols who worked there to come outside. Y/N glanced at them. One of the girls had a Felix photocard attached to her pants. The girl looked over at her, and Y/N quickly averted her gaze, turning back to the window. She rested a hand on her stomach, trying not to think about how HE had groaned into her ear with that deep voice. How HE had nearly emptied an entire box of condoms because of her. How HE had held her close, his forehead pressed against hers, telling her how good she felt… Y/N shivered.

She often sat in this café. Every day after work. She was in the middle of her second month and looked up as the employee brought her a tea.

“The usual, right?” she asked with a friendly smile.

Y/N thanked her and took the tea.

“Do you like any of the bands?” the employee asked. Y/N waved her off. “I just like the tea here.” “Oh.” The employee laughed and walked away. Y/N let out a small yawn. Her head ached from overthinking. She buried her face in her hands, propping herself up on the table.

 ୨ৎ

“Please, two iced Americanos and a lemonade.”

The café employee nodded and grabbed three cups.

“Tough practice today?” she asked as she walked over to the coffee machine.

“Yep.”

She glanced at the three idols who always came by just before closing time, knowing the café would be empty. Chan fumbled with his wallet while Hyunjin and Felix looked at a girl sleeping at one of the tables. “Is she okay?” Felix asked. The employee followed his gaze. “Oh… she’s here a lot… drinks tea, stares out the window, thinks a lot… I suspect she’s pregnant. She always has her hand on her stomach. I let her sleep; you never know what people are going through.” Chan looked at her, too.

“And the father of the child just lets her sleep in a café?” Felix murmured, concerned.

Hyunjin grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry about things that don’t concern you.” Felix looked at Hyunjin. As the three of them left the café, Y/N was gently woken up.

“Miss, we’re closing.”

She sat up in her chair.

“Sorry…” “It’s completely fine, please don’t stress.” Y/N gave a small smile and placed some money on the table.

 ୨ৎ

How was she supposed to tell him? Did she have to tell him? Yes, no question about it. Did she want to tell him? Yes, no question about that either. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself otherwise. She carefully stepped onto the street, heading toward the building. No matter what anyone told her—she was keeping the baby. She would manage with or without this company’s help. With trembling hands, she reached for the door and opened it. Security immediately approached her. “One moment, please, I can explain– wh—” She yelped as they grabbed her arms, trying to drag her out, when someone noticed her. “Stop, stop,” said none other than the manager from that night. Y/N’s eyes widened. “I know her. Let her go. I want to know what’s going on.” The security guards hesitated but then released her. Y/N looked at the manager.

Shit.

  ୨ৎ

Felix stared breathlessly at the ceiling of the studio, gripping his water bottle tightly. The door opened. “AHHH, look who’s visiting us!” Seungmin called out. Felix sat up. The manager didn’t look amused. “Is there trouble?” Changbin joked, taking a sip of his water. “Felix. Come with me.” Felix went pale. The guys stopped joking. Felix adjusted his sweatpants and pulled off his beanie, placing it next to his water bottle. He looked at Hyunjin, who gave him a confused glance.

  ୨ৎ

Y/N stared at the Twice poster. If she avoided the Stray Kids posters, maybe she could think about it less. Maybe it wouldn’t feel so final. The office door opened. Reflexively, she lowered her gaze to the tabletop. Felix froze in the doorway. “Is everything okay?” he asked immediately, his voice full of concern.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a moment—you have a lot to talk about.” The door closed again.

Y/N took shallow breaths. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her dress as she slowly looked up. Felix was still standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath from training. His blond hair was tied back, but a few strands had come loose, falling into his face. Despite the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, he looked perfect.

As he stepped closer, she suddenly felt so small. So stupid. Stupid because she knew her words could change his entire career. She opened her mouth—nothing came out.

“Y/N?” he asked gently. At least he remembered her name.

Her gaze wandered to his freckles. Would their child have them too? She hoped so. It had to.

Since when was he so close?

She flinched when she realized he had crouched down in front of her chair.

Right. She still had something to tell him.

“Before I start…” Her voice was rough. “I don’t want you to think I expect money or anything. I’m telling you because you should know.” Felix furrowed his brows. “Y/N, what—?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Felix turned pale.

“I’m keeping the baby.” She spoke quickly before he could react. “But whether your name is on the birth certificate is up to you. You can’t force me to have an abortion, and whether you pay child support is your decision. I just wanted you to know. I couldn’t sleep at night because—because you didn’t know.” Her gaze flickered. “I don’t want to ruin your career.” Felix blinked several times. Then he raised a hand. “Hold on.” “What?” “Stop over-explaining, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

He stood up, ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. “Okay, shit.” Y/N clenched her hands in her lap. “So… I’ll be honest with you. I’ve never been in a situation like this before.” Felix looked at her. “Did you not save my number?” “Your what?” “My phone number. I left it for you that night.” “Oh.” Her cheeks grew hot. “No, I… I must have missed it.” Felix grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and quickly scribbled a number on it. “Save it immediately.”

Y/N took the paper with wide eyes.

Felix looked at her seriously. “Forget it. I don’t want you to have an abortion. Keep the baby. And I’ll take responsibility. Just tell me how I can help.”

She swallowed. “And if this all gets out?” Felix let out a dry laugh. “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be the first idol with a secret pregnancy.” He crouched down in front of her again, his hands wrapping around hers. “Please forgive my lack of enthusiasm.” His thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “That was just… a surprise. I actually planned to get to know you better before raising a child together.” “What?” Felix smirked slightly. “I left you my number because I wanted to see you again. Do you know how frustrated I was when you never called?” Y/N’s face grew even hotter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know… I didn’t know you wanted that.”His gaze dropped to her stomach. “And you’re sure it’s mine?” he asked carefully. Y/N nodded immediately. “Felix, I’m a thousand percent sure. We can do a paternity test once the baby is born.” Felix sighed. “Management will probably insist on that. Do you know how many fake paternity claims Hyunjin has already had to deal with?” Y/N couldn’t help but smile slightly. Felix squeezed her hands tighter. “We’ll figure this out, okay? You and me. We’ll make it work somehow.” She looked into his warm, freckled face—and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel alone anymore. Y/N swallowed. Felix’s thumb was still gently brushing over the back of her hand, as if trying to soothe her. But her heart was racing. She wasn’t sure if it was because of his closeness or the fear of what was coming next. Felix took a deep breath. “How far along are you?” “Almost three months.” He nodded slowly. “Okay. This… this is real. Holy shit. It’s been that long already?” Y/N let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah.”

Felix looked at her like he was searching for the right words. “Do you have someone supporting you? Your family?” Y/N hesitated. “My family doesn’t know.” His gaze softened. “Have you told anyone?”

“No. A piece of paper is what’s stopping me.”

Felix squeezed her hands tighter. “Then I’m glad you told me now.” She let out a dry laugh. “I thought you’d either scream or run away.” Felix scoffed. “Do you really think I’m that kind of guy?” “I don’t know. I… I barely know you.” His lips curved into a crooked smile. “We can change that.” He let go of her hands only to grab a chair and sit right in front of her. Resting his elbows on his knees, he looked like he was trying to process everything. “Alright. You want to keep it. I want to take responsibility. So that means we’re… partners in crime now or something?” Y/N couldn’t help but smile. “I guess so.” Felix grinned briefly, but then his expression grew serious again. “If you want, I can help you tell your family.” Y/N stared down at her hands. She shook her head. “That won’t be easy.” Felix leaned in closer. “We’ll do it together, okay?” She looked up at him. “Why are you so… calm?” Felix chuckled softly. “Because I reminded myself that you don’t have to go through this alone. And neither do I.”

He leaned back. “Listen. I know my life is complicated. And now, because of me, yours is even more complicated. But I’m not running away. We’ll figure this out. And no matter what you need—I’m here.”

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