#god i hope ill feel better tomorrow

[ganondoodle]

since im currently a slime monster (sick) and cant draw or write anything coherently, heres a short list of more things i came up with for the totk rewrite (botw2 edition) (some things may have been mentioned before already):

more weather types (like fog, storm)

specific enemies tha only spawn in certain weather (so you dont encounter all the enemy types constantly, everywhere)

underwater swimming returns! since im removing the building (so it can shine in its own game, ACTUALLY made for it) and added the hookshot as a main movement option i feel like its reasonable to include it (hookshot underwater like in tp is cool!!)

underground (which is more a rly big cave system, and more unique, with few access points) can be filled with water (creepy! cool!)

zora dungeon is absolutely the ancient water thingy (that serves only as single stupid button press for a nonsensical waterfall thing in canon ?????), its a giant structure in part like an aquedukt (? the roman water thing) and the bossfight is in a mostly empty reservoir (bc those things are freaking scary AND cool+ i know there is one where the ones who built it used old statue heads as foundations so ... what if they used botw sonau ruins similarly?)

bosses dont drop any crafting material (so they wont just have ... duplicates stomp around like its normal) and can be refought via an NPC (sort of like its worked in skyward sword) unsure if i should add a new one (like an ancient shiekah monk that just kinda chills in a special place you have to unlock first) or an existing one (impa? koga?? ngl i kinda like that idea lol .. he has funny dialog to each of them that may or may not be true, if you choose one of his fights he is very touched)

(cant think of more right now, i need to lie down, maybe ill add more later- but feel free to comment or add in tags what you think; and just as a disclaimer, i know its getting more and more involved and complicated, but i still dont think it would have been impossible to do, also this is still something that will never be real anyway, so why worry about how 'possible' it is :) )

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[queen-beefcake-sqx]

i want to cry i’m so mad tonight. i feel awful and want to scream and break down and i can’t this is horrible.

[celticwoman]

.

[sleepy-achilles]

How did I go from calling Shawn a queer to having a mental break down and nearly destroying his entire fictional family in the span of a few hours?

What happened here?

[toastsnaffler]

opening my drafts to see the vent post i made earlier but saved bc I had more to say but had to go do smth else and umm. probably for thr best I didn't post in the end but also I stand by that I was right to be pissed off🧍‍♂️everyone shut up

[bone-eaters-well]

vent in tags

[biolums]

so like. how long is it until its considered long covid likeeee idk its gonna be three week in a day and im like. kind of recovered by i still have a horrible. awful cough (from drainage in the back of my throat) and i CANNOT get rid of it. dayquil/niquil dont help much. my moms cough meds she got when she had covid (thay were literally for the aame thing i have) dont seem to be doing anything. mucinex didnt work either. brooooooo give me a BREAKKKK

[ozuuoou]

⟡⋆.˚˚₊‧꒰ა ⋆｡°⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Itoshi Rin x Reader

Post argument fluff

———————————————————————————————————————

"Why are you so clingy? Get lost, disappear for all I care."

Those were the last words you heard before your fiancé walked out of your shared home, heading to who knows where.

⋆.˚˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚⊹ ࣪ ˖

Hearing those sharp words made you feel as if your heart was stabbed a million times. As a result, you chose to sleep on the couch.

As you lay on the couch, engulfed by the dim light of the living room, you couldn't stop the tears from bursting right through your eyes. The scene replaying over and over again made it hurt more than it already did.

To avoid thinking about it more, a decision was made: to sleep. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you hear the front door open and shut, along with the light pads that came from your fiancé seemingly getting closer and closer to where you're at. Not wanting to pay it any mind, you pretended to sleep. Until you feel a pair of eyes staring at you from behind. You were bothered, of course, but chose to close your eyes nonetheless.

A cold gust of wind flew by in the moment of silence until you felt the cushion of the couch dip lower and a pair of hands wrap around you. Surprised, you turned around. "Rin?" you asked. "You sh-" Just as you were about to speak again, you were cut off. "Why sleep here?" Everything went silent for a minute. "I figured I'd sleep here, for space" you replied, hearing this made the teal-eyed man feel more guilty, making him tighten his grip on your waist a bit more.

"You shouldn't be sleeping here. Go to bed; you have a big day tomorrow, remember?" you added, hoping to shake him off. Another wave of silence. After about a minute, he spoke, "Are you still mad? I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of those things. I was just tired and frustrated..." His voice was shaky as he buried his face more into the crook of your neck. "It's okay. I know I can be overly clingy at times. I was just so excited to finally spend time with you, but I guess I overreacted," hearing that reply broke him more, as if you're blaming yourself for something that's his fault. "Now, go to bed; you have to wake up early." He felt that you were uncomfortable, so he unlatched himself and walked away, leaving you alone in the dim room.

After changing his clothes, he went and got ready for bed, and fuck, was it cold and lonely. "So this is what it's like," he mumbled as he laid down on the cold bed, looking at your spot where it lies cold and empty. Seeing that horrid view made his heart drop to his stomach. Hours passed by as he twisted and turned, trying every possible way to make himself fall asleep. From turning the lamp on and off to making pillow figures of what is assumed to be you (creepy, but let's face it, bro's coping), and unfortunately, none worked. Oh my god, he felt like a Victorian kid dying from a severe illness, laid down on the bed, huffing and sweating with worry. Not wanting to put up with this feeling, he marched downstairs to where you were sleeping, and man, he didn't even spare a second as he immediately jumped to cuddle you, arms around your waist with his head nuzzled in your chest and neck and all. "Goddamn, this is way better," he screamed, mentally, as he inhaled your scent that he oh so missed.

With all the shuffling around, you wake up, feeling a figure trapping you. Readjusting your eyes to the surroundings, you look down to see Rin all snuggled up next to you. You tap his shoulder. "Why are you here? I told you to sleep on the bed..." you say, groggily. To which he replies, "I just can't sleep... I know you're upset, but please, let me sleep with you," as he looks up, his face all teary. "I'm sorry, please don't avoid me... I'll do better. I swear," he adds, tightening his hold around your waist.

Unable to resist such a cute face, you sighed, cupping his face as you peppered kisses on his poor face. "You promise?" you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper. "Mhm, I promise," he replied, leaning into your touch. "Do you want to go on a date tomorrow," he added. I'd love to, baby, but you're busy tomorrow." "Skipping practice for a day won't hurt," he chuckled. You responded with a hum as you pressed yourself more, burying his face into your neck and chest, to which he let his hands roam under your clothes, rubbing circles on your back while the other sneakily fondled your ass. You chuckled at the response. "How about a little café date after we go grocery shopping?" you asked, and he replied with a muffled hum.

He peeked his head. "We're good now, right?" he asked. "Yeah, we're all good now, baby," to which he smiled and added, "I love you." You replied with the sweetest, "I love you too." Upon hearing that, he nuzzled right back into your chest.

⋆.˚˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚⊹ ࣪ ˖

Guess who'll be walking on the produce isle with a big smile on his face? Definitely a man named Itoshi Rin.

[divinesolas]

Forgettable date

r.q: Can I request a sweet smut modern aemond x fem reader where they were both so busy that they forgot about valentines day so aemond surprises reader with a romantic dinner and they end up just skipping dinner for some steamy bedroom time and in the middle of it, aemond whispers to reader "you're mine" and that was his way of proposing to reader, thank youu

w.c: 1.1k

c.w: office worker!reader, fluff, sweet aemond, aemonds job is left ambiguous, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, not proofread.

You were so swamped with work you had no concept of time, you were sure it was february as you had to pay your rent on the first of every month but if someone asked you what day it was you would have no clue. Same goes for your boyfriend of three years aemond, despite the fact the two of you dont work in the same field your schedules just so happen to both be so packed all the time.

as the rest of your coworkers began to pack up their stuff for the day you sat at your desk still fiverously typing away at your computer, you had a presentation in a couple days and report due tomorrow afternoon so you had decided to stay overtime.

some of your coworkers had come over to talk to you as they were wrapping up for today.

“you got any plans after work?”

“no.”

one of them gasps, “what do you mean? he didnt plan anything?”

you furrow your brows but dont turn to look at them, “what do you mean? he?”

“your boyfriend? or did you guys break up or something?” you turn to her at the mention of him and tilt your head, “why would he have planned something?”

one of them laughs while the one your looking at shakes her head and sighs, “do you really not know? its valentines day.”

“no…” you turn towards your computer, looking at the date and gasping, “oh my god. i had no idea.”

“did you guys not talk this morning?”

“we did but neither of us mentioned anything.”

“maybe hes planning on surprising you later.”

you groan and run your hands along your face. what if he was and you had nothing prepared? shit you didnt even have a gift for him.

your coworkers laugh and wish you good luck before they leave.

you have an internal debate before deciding to pull out your phone to text him.

‘aemond oh my god happy valentines day it completely slipped my mind im so sorry.’

you anxiously bite your nails as you wait for him to respond. youre tempted to lock your phone shut as you notice the three bubbles pop up.

‘oh is it valentines day? i had no idea. im so sorry baby ive been swamped with work happy valentines day my love. im about to get off for the day, ill see you once you get home. love you ❤️’

you let out a sigh of relief at him admitting that he had no clue either. most people would assume that he was just saying that to make you feel better but you knew aemond wasnt like that and he wouldn't hold it against you.

‘i cant wait to see you my love. im going to be staying for a bit longer to wrap up.’

You notice he reads the next then decide that you’ll pick up some baked goods on the way home as a gift and hope that you dont stay too long as you turn off your phone and get back to work.

an hour and a half later with a box of a variety of backed goods in hand turning the key to your shared apartment with aemond. youre immediately hit with the smell of your favor meal and a smile graces your face. he knows you love it when he cooks.

“im in the dining room my love.”

you walk in and you gasp at the sight of the set up table set with flowers and candles with your favorite meal plated out.

you feel hands wrap around your waist from behind you and a kiss placed on your cheek.

“aemond..”

“happy valentines day my love.”

he lets go and take the bag out of you hands, “you picked this up?”

“on my way home. grabbed your favorite.”

he hums and walks back over to you after he places the bag on the table.

he grabs your cheeks and gives you, “how was work?” he mumbles as he continues to kiss you, “it was good, report done,” you pause for a moment as he begins to kiss down your jaw and sigh, “presentation almost done.”

he begins to trail kisses down your neck, stopping to suck on it.

“you?”

he hums, “fine.”

hes not much of a talker, especially not when hes busy leaving hickeys over your next.

“aemond the food.”

“fuck the food. i have a meal right in front of me.”

you squeal as he lifts you up bridal style and carries you upstairs to you bedroom. “youre so ridiculous aemond.”

you yelp when he tosses you on the bed and makes his way on top of you, kissing you deeply.

he pulls away from you grabs his shirt from the back of his neck and rips it off before he goes back to kissing you.

you moan against his lips and he pulls away from you hand moving down to your waist to take off your pants, your underwear sliding along with them.

“aemond.” you whine as he begins to kiss down your stomach.

“let me take care of you tonight.”

he licks a strip up your slit and uses his hands to grip your waist and presses you down as he continues to lick at you. your heads reach down and grip at his hair pressing him closer. you can feel him laugh against you which leads you to moan out loud, “aemond.”

“let me take care of you.” he repeats and wraps his lips around your clit sucking on it leading you to throw your head back onto your pillow.

he doesn't let up even when he can tell youre close and youre begging him to slow down he keeps up his pace until hes finished licking up every drop of your cum after you had finished and kisses his way back up and smiles at you.

“happy?”

“ill be happy after you fuck me.”

“you're never sated my love.”

in a rush you both take off the rest of your clothes and he reaches over to grab a condom out your bedside table before you reach out and grab his wrist.

he looks over at you with a confused look, “if you dont want continue.”

“thats not it i just,, maybe we dont need it tonight.”

hes face turns smug as he grabs the hand you had wrapped around his wrist to kiss it.

“i love you.”

“i love you to-” youre interrupted by him pushing into you and you moan gripping onto his shoulders and bringing yourself into the crook of his neck.

“fuck you always feel so good my love.”

you cant respond as he begins to thrust into you. his hands lock with yours and his lips are right against your ear.

“youre mine.”

you moan, “say it.”

“im yours aemond im yours.”

you dont notice as he reaches over into the bedside table and grabs a tiny black box.

“then marry me.”

you feel like you're in a daze as he continues to thrust and shows you a stunning ring inside the box.

“what?”

“marry me.”

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[lovers-rck]

Abby when my period RAAHHHHHH

ok i know this request was about something smutty but i happen to be on my period and it came out a lot softer than i had intended so I APOLOGIZE..... smutty abby coming soon (we hope)

but enjoy

☆

"do we have those chips that we ate the other day?"

the christmas lights that are taped to your bedroom wall with tape stolen from your ex-roommate are slowly peeling off. abby looks at them.

"uhh... the orange ones?" she says, her gaze returning to the computer in front of her.

"yes" a mild pain settles in your abdomen; a warning of the upcoming colic.

"lev ate them all" abby's fingers type rapidly, the word counter increasing second by second.

"oh my god" you protest, more from the upcoming pain than from the chips "tell your child not to eat my food"

abby laughs lightly without stopping writing "it's not my child, for your information" thousands of daggers attack your abdomen "i'll buy you more tomorrow".

the pain takes your breath away. your body twists in on itself like a little bug looking for warmth to soothe the pain.

the pain lasts for a minute or so, but you can swear it lasted hours; your body is the trojan horse and the warriors inside your belly were out to fight tooth and nail, but against yourself.

your mouth lets out a moan of pain and abby turns around. she sees your body curled in on itself, your face contorted in winces of pain and she could swear she'd buy you all the chips you wanted if it would ease the pain.

abby gets up from her chair and her stocking-clad feet with your face stamped on them scurry across the room. your valentine's day present.

she gave you a t-shirt that reads "my girlfriend is better than yours".

"are you okay?" abby mentally beats herself up for asking such an obvious question "do you need anything?"

you shake your head and feel the warmth of her hand on your shoulder "just a second".

abby nods even when you can't see her. the pain lingers for a few more seconds, leaving your body for short moments and then fiercely attacks again.

"this is lev's fault" you joke, and abby knows it's her cue to go along.

her body climbs onto the bed, her muscles navigate between the sheets and blankets resting on the mattress, her freckled skin finds yours and her arms capture your body, enveloping it in a warmth that can cure all ill.

"no" you mutter "you have to finish the essay abby".

you try to pull away from abby, to detach yourself from her alluring warmth. that essay has been dwelling in abby's mouth, between her molars and gums, for months. you remember the countless times abby mentioned to you how important that essay was, how it could ruin or resolve her life, how nervous and anxious she was.

basically, it was very important.

but abby is abby, and she's a very committed girlfriend "don't be stupid" a breeze of freckles and moles comes back to invade you and press you against her body "it's my break".

you roll your eyes, abby never took breaks, but you decided to grant yourself the right to be a little selfish about her future and say nothing, resting your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

abby's fingers dance through the fine hair on your head, untangling imperceptible knots and combing through each strand, blessing it with her warm touch belonging to a movie summer. you remember the time abby asked you if you were jealous of the sun that kissed her skin and caused more and more freckles with each passing summer; you laughed and tapped her shoulder playfully.

and to your stupidity, you did feel a little bit jealous

"you know what, i have the theory that every time you kiss me i get a new freckle" abby had said, she had sunglasses on but you could feel her gaze on yours "maybe you can test it"

that summer you gave her a million kisses.

"Do you want some painkillers?" abby mumbles, her words vibrating in her chest.

"i can handle it" you look at her. she's grimacing "what?"

"whatever" abby says and her breath hits your face.

wait a moment.

"stick out your tongue" you say

"what?"

"just do it!"

her hand rests on your lower back, her fingers make small circular motions, your chest bumps against hers.

when abby sticks out her tongue, you can see how it is slightly tinged orange.

"you ate the chips!" you yell.

abby's cheeks redden slightly and her laughter is loud. her body vibrates under yours.

"you're a liar!" you say, a smile growing on your face against your will "you fucking liar!"

abby continues to laugh and her hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, drawing your lips to hers.

she laughs some more and kisses you, slow and sweet with a disguised apology unraveling on your lips. abby opens her mouth wider and you can taste the salty taste of your stolen food.

"you're a liar" you whisper against her lips, her hand still on the back of your neck, holding you against her "i'll tell this to lev."

forehead to forehead, you can see abby's eyes narrow at your smile "i'm sorry" abby whispers too, leaving a small kiss on your lips "can you forgive me?"

she scatters small kisses all over your face: down your cheeks; the bridge of your nose; the bone of your cheekbones; the corner of your mouth; over your eyelids.

"please?" abby murmurs, her fingers caressing your cheeks "huh?" you slowly deny, a smile escaping from the corner of your lips "you don't forgive me?"

you deny again, and abby's mouth meets yours again. she kisses you so slowly that you forget for a second the stabbing pain of the colic attacking your body, you feel drunk, lost in the wetness of her tongue searching for a home in your mouth, so delicate and erotic at the same time.

"and now?" abby murmurs, her pupils dilated, her hand on the back of your neck.

"that's manipulation" you whisper, feeling her heart beat stronger.

she shrugs, caressing your jaw and neck "I just use the tools I have at my disposal"

you smile and leave a kiss on the tip of her nose "you forgave me?" she continues.

"i'm considering it" you murmur, and the blonde girl's lips invade yours again.

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 29. karma's a bitch

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. naoya's anger issues continue. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. mentions of physical violence. family drama.

word count: 3.2k

notes: my sixty-hour work weeks have been taking a huge toll on me, so i apologize for this incredibly slow update. the good news is that i cannot take this corporate america bullshit anymore and will resign in the next two months. thank you for being patient! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Naoya had never felt this humiliated in his entire life.

When people said karma was a bitch, he never thought that it would actually make its way back to him. While he was not the most righteous person in the world, he was the Zenin CEO, for god’s sake! He was the leader to a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, the heir of a centuries-old bloodline. 

Yet, here he was, charging back to his apartment like an irate animal.

He startled the lobby doormen upon his loud entry, and once he returned to his penthouse, he had to will every muscle in his body not to tear apart his abode in a rampage.

In his head, his encounter with Toji looped like a broken record, fueling his chagrin.

When Naoya sought to confront his cousin for the first time in months, he thought he had been prepared. He did not expect to end up digging himself into a deep hole surpassing the world's layers due to a judgment error—a slight miscalculation. 

Correction: this miscalculation was anything but 'slight' because he wildly underestimated what felt like everything. Now, he bore the consequences of his mistakes after inadvertently turning himself into a laughingstock. Because his ego was his hamartia, he had become a mere jester in a story where he was meant to be the sole hero, and thus his ill feelings burned hotter than the surface of the Sun.

As much as he hated to admit this, Naoya had been shortsighted. He should have known better. Just weeks ago, he saw a vision filled with saccharine promises of a happy, comfortable life as the most powerful man in Japan imbued with power and wealth. He had been confident—a hundred percent certain—that absolutely nothing could go wrong in the trajectory he worked hard to create. But, what the actual fuck just happened at the therapist's office?!

He did not expect his mistress to make a complete fool out of him. Her very existence was an anathema to him, and he hoped to never be in contact with that woman ever again. In hindsight, Naoya should have taken the hint a while ago. He had previously forgiven his cousin's ex-wife, dismissing her blissful but intentional ignorance. Mari had never been too keen on actual intellectual and corporate matters, for she took far more interest in the money and comfort that came with starting from the bottom and sleeping her way to the top. Despite that, Naoya trusted that she at least had half the mind to not publicly discuss their affair, only for him to be proven wrong in front of none other than...Toji Fushiguro.

"Fuck!" Naoya screamed into the void of his empty living room. His reality was a nightmare as he thought about his despised cousin again—the assured gleam in his viridescent eyes, the smug smirk that tugged across his lips. The imagery soured his mood beyond measure. "I'm going to fucking—"

He did not finish his sentence.

Instead, he kicked a nearby lamp in an angry bout, toppling the fixture over and sending tiny shards cascading across the floor accompanied by the dull thud of the shade. Whatever. His housekeeper tomorrow morning would come in and clean that. 

What he instead focused on was how he had never been this infuriated, this belittled, this undignified.

The entire apartment echoed with Naoya's loud huff.

'About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.' These words from Toji affected him more than he would have liked.

What did he mean?

That bastard is bluffing, the blonde had to tell himself, yet even he could not believe in his own consolation.

He needed to do something about this. 

No, no, Naoya wasn’t scared.

He couldn’t possibly be, right?!

Yet, after he could feel his ears begin to cool and breathing start to re-regulate, he stared at the emptiness in his halls as he came to the realization that had no better choice but to talk to you.

You didn't want to be here.

The moment you read Naoya Zenin's text to meet up for a 'quick chat' at the café near his office, you already knew that the upcoming conversation was going to be anything but 'quick.' The last thing you wished to do was to be in the same vicinity as that very man again.

After spending the last few days at your family residence, you had been showered with warm attention from aunts, uncles, cousins, and even house attendants who—despite naturally wondering the reason behind your stay—welcomed your visit with open arms. To your relatives' many inquiries, you forged a pretense that all was well even if all was not. (Besides, all did seem well in your family estate, away from the incessant pandemonium that was the Tokyo city center.)

While you knew that this peaceful break was not meant to last forever, you did not anticipate returning to the capital just to sit with the Zenin CEO alone.

Naoya had specifically chosen a corner table in the Hong Kong-inspired establishment, distanced from potential eavesdroppers. He seemed to have been waiting for a while by the time you arrived, his right leg crossed over his left knee as he twiddled with his thumbs impatiently. Sprawled on the table were a freshly brewed pot of jasmine tea and a platter of warm custard pastries.

He remained quiet as you took the seat across from him, observing with a crease on his forehead and a knit to his brows.

Anyone could tell that the blonde was not the least bit happy.

"Giving me dirty looks is not going to get this conversation anywhere," you pointed out while helping yourself to a tart.

From your comment, the inverted slope on Naoya's lips twisted into a deeper frown. 

He did not understand where your annoyance came from. 

Fine, he never treated you nicely either, but he did not expect you to snap at him when the discussion had hardly begun. You offered him no greetings, and Naoya also took great offense at how you chose not to look at him as you talked.

Truth be told, your neglect reminded him of all the other upsetting things that he was dying to bring up, and your unpleasant attitude whittled away the little restraint he had left.

“You didn’t try to ask where I’ve been. Not one text or call. Guess it would not have mattered to you if I disappeared, huh?" he lashed out through gritted teeth. He hated being forgotten, hated being looked over, and hated how easy it was for him to prove you to be a neglectful and apathetic wife.

Which was why there was no better option than to cut him off.

“You ordered me to leave you alone, Naoya.” Only slightly did you turn your head to glance at him. Stirring sugar into your tea, you kept your attention otherwise on the nearby window and watched businesspeople scurrying about on the streets on their lunch breaks. "You can live without my attention since I'm not the only woman you have around. What happened to your lady friend? Hasn't she been entertaining you long before our marriage? I am sure she would love your company, so why not pay her an impromptu visit?”

From a slanting angle, you could tell that the transformation from your normally calm demeanor dismayed him. Naoya, not you, was typically the one to make snide comebacks, but he could not deny your latest comments. Evidently, he wanted you to go back to your submissive and passive self, but that was precisely what you no longer could be for him.

His silence prompted you to reach into your purse and retrieve a thick manila envelope, and you presented the package on the table.

Naoya's gaze snapped to the parcel. 

He was curious, but cautiously so. He had invited you here, expecting to control the narrative, to dictate the terms. As a result, your unexpected move threw him off balance. 

"What...?"

“Take a look and find out for yourself.”

A puzzled Naoya demonstrated no hesitation.

He snatched the folder, tearing the top open and greedily grabbing the curated pieces inside. He stared for a long time at the first item: a photo. But he recognized the image of him and his mistress, boarding a private jet for their most recent trip to Mexico. Then, he flipped through the stack rapidly, barely registering each item before he turned to the next. Some were printed-out pictures and others were cutouts from news articles, but all featured him and his paramour. The confusion on Naoya's visage slowly morphed into aggravation, and when he finished his inspection, he forcefully threw the items back onto the table.

In the end, Naoya sat back and went still, not even blinking, thinking, or doing anything but pressing his tongue along his inner cheek. "How did you get these?"

No apologies. No remorse.

Hell, based on his response, the man could not even bother to deny your accusations, a telling sign of how little he could care for his relationship with you. Obviously, you must be a joke to him.

In one firm motion, you placed down your teacup.

"You're missing the point.”

While one's eyes may be the windows to the soul, Naoya's offered nothing in his current state. His pupils looked at—no, examined you in intense dark pools despite the iridescent glow from the lights above.

"Toji gave you these, didn't he?" Naoya continued with a disdainful laugh, himself insistent on getting answers to his own questions. "You can't find this shit on the internet anymore since I've had them all taken down. But Toji's fast. He has eyes everywhere, I know he does. Look at him. Months later, and he's still hung up on reclaiming a position he should've never had the right to in the first place!"

Thankfully, you didn’t flinch from his loud voice. What you did do was become more indifferent as if you were placing a wall to separate yourself from him, mentally bracing for his emotional maelstrom.

"You are missing the point," you said once more. This time, you shook your head in disappointment, and your tone was far more frustrated than the last. "Aren't you shameless?”

"Me? Shameless?!” His brows pinched closer from fury. "Take a look at yourself, woman! What did you do to get all this dirt from Toji and his henchmen, hm? Ha! Know what? I bet it’s because you're so willing to spread yourself for them,” he rambled with a nasty sneer plastered on his expression. At his comments, your jaw fell open before snapping shut as the meaning behind his words sank in. The way this man disregarded how he had an affair (that began many months ago!) only to redirect the spotlight onto you was repulsing, implying that the sole reason the therapists talked to you was that you had slept around. “A whore like you love taking all them all, don’t you? Well? Well? Am I right? Goddamn, you’re such a—”

The harsh scraping from your chair as you stood was what finally interrupted him. Unable to tolerate his vilification, you counteracted his anger with the venom in your rancorous glare. 

"How dare you talk about me like that!”

In the meantime, prying eyes started to turn in your direction from the commotion: teenage girls, sharing nervous glances across their table; a lone businessman, stopping mid-sip from his cappuccino; even the barista, pausing mid-grind such that her arm froze inches from the hopper.

"That man...doesn't he seem familiar?" a distant voice asked.

"Is he a celebrity or something?"

"No, wait. He's the person on the cover of last month's Fortune magazine. Naoya Zenin!" another replied.

"Isn't that lady his wife?"

While the onlookers' curious glances turned into full-on stares, their regard steeled your resolve rather than bothered you. Instead, you wanted the crowd to take in the spectacle. Corrupt tricks and dirty money had long painted the Zenin heir as 'the most perfect man in Japan,' and the public deserved to understand the fraudulence and cruelty that underlaid his facade.

"For months, I trusted you. I respected you. I put aside the harrowing loneliness weighing on my heart all because I tried to understand you. You told me that finding the time or energy for our marriage was not easy because board meetings kept you late in the office or business meetings required you to spend several nights abroad. Fine! So, I had been patient. But," and your voice overflowed from anger as you pointed a shaking finger at the pictures on the table, "Taking another woman to Michelin restaurants for dinners? Spending nights with her at Ritz-Carltons and Four Seasons? Going on entire vacations with her across the Pacific? All while you had a wife at home? Are you out of your fucking mind ?!" 

The man's nose flared with deep-seated rage, his eyes mirroring the same bitterness in yours. "At the end of the day," he began sternly, "we're still married."

Ridiculous.

“On paper, ” you had to clarify. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be cheating on me with your older cousin's ex-wife."

Immediately, louder murmurs rippled through the crowd. Naoya turned stiff, uncomfortable with the attention. So much for selecting a quiet corner in the café. He wasn’t stupid enough to sense that he had to be careful. Saying one wrong phrase would condemn him to a public meltdown. 

However, you were already steps ahead of him when you loudly declared: “I’m filing for a divorce.” 

That caught him off guard.

Your announcement even drew audible astonishment from bystanders as they stopped their meals, turning to each other and drawing out their phones.

In literal milliseconds, the vexation once riddling Naoya's demeanor shifted into denial.

“No. We’re not going to talk about a fucking divorce right now. We’re going to fix what we have, and you’re going to come back to me. We’re...We're married for a reason, and we’re going to keep with it!”

"That's a bullshit reason,” you had to snap. “Listen to yourself. Do you hear how selfish you sound!?" At this point, nothing could hide your bafflement. "Naoya, you were the one who said that if I wanted to leave this marriage badly, then I should leave. Ask Mai and Maki! They heard the entire conversation. Didn't you also say that you didn't give a fuck anymore?"

The man attempted to salvage some semblance of control. "I was just joking!"

"No, you were not." Picking up a photo of Naoya and Mari together, you pressed the picture to his face. “How much more can I take? How many days would I still have to go through alone in the penthouse, all because you would be spending your sweet time with the woman that you love?”

Unloading all this emotional baggage, not only for Naoya Zenin but also for the café spectators to hear, took courage. Previously, you would have let the burden gnaw at your soul. You would have rather wallowed in suffering rather than even think about speaking up.

But the past was the past, and you had grown immensely since then. Currently, you were stronger, more confident. You knew that, in Toji's words, you deserved better. Life was too beautiful to waste on a man who did not love or respect you and, with that in mind, you relaxed your clenched fists with an exhausted and fatigued sigh. 

You broke me first, you said through a deserted gaze. 

Naoya Zenin was the reason why you had become the way you were: a cold, seemingly heartless wife who cared none for her husband. The misery that he placed on your shoulders finally reached its limit, and while you could forgive, forgetting the memories in your scarred heart would be a task over months, years, and even a lifetime. 

“Listen,” you began, tone terse, “this divorce will set you free. Mari is the person whom you need—”

“The hell. No!” the man interrupted in a violent outburst, taking your breath away as he slammed the table and hissed. “I don't give a damn about her right now! We’re…We’re over!" he snarled with incredible anger such that he almost appeared to growl. "I don’t need her, I need you! That...That whore doesn't give a flying fuck about my shit! All she cares about is...is...Fuck this. All she wants is the money. Why else do you think she married and then later divorced Toji? She doesn't want to hear about all the shit in my family because she had not been brought up to deal with all the fuckin' drama in my household. She can't understand because, unlike you, she wasn't born with a silver spoon shoved down her goddamn throat!"

Quietly, you absorbed his words, stunned.

So this was how their relationship had been.

You had not expected him to reveal all these entrenched feelings willingly, but his concoction between reckless rage and sheer desperation had allowed him to spill the ugly side of this extramarital affair. Naoya could not afford to lose you, and not just because this marriage solidified the respect of those around him. While Mari offered him an outlet for physical indulgence, only you could offer the cornerstone to Naoya's mental and social fortitude.

“So you ‘need’ me now, but what happens when you find another reason to hate me again? What will you do if you don’t think I can fulfill the role you want me to have as your partner? Or if you wake up one day and suddenly want your cousin’s ex-wife again? Or if you meet another woman? Am I supposed to stand there again, and watch this all happen?" 

No answer.

The fact that he couldn't respond hurt.

"My decision is final. Looking back, I despised every single second married to you. In fact, I feel sorry for myself. The fact that I blindly put up with your manipulation, betrayal, and blame for all these months.” With your belongings collected, you prepared to leave. “You would be stupid to think you're the only one with options, you know.”

Only when you turned around did Naoya react, scrambling to his feet.

“What the fuck are you—”

In any other situation, he would have grabbed you, lunged at you, did everything in his power to stop you from going. Yet, given all the witnesses, all he could do was call you back like a helpless child, trying his best to not escalate the scene (although, at this point, even passerbys outside have stopped by the window to spectate).

"Hey!" Naoya called after you. “Hey! I’m still talking with you!”

Pathetic, really, to see him desperately beg for you to stay in his life.

There was a certain satisfaction in finally having the control at your fingertips. The feeling was empowering—electrifying, even—and you became so focused on the gratification that you barely registered Naoya's last question.

“Where are you going?”

At this point, you already stood by the exit.

“That’s not something that my soon-to-be ex-husband would need to know,” and you hardly gave him another glance as the door closed behind you. “Thank you for showing me everything I hope to never find in another man again."

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Part of why this update took so long was because I wanted to have an encounter between Naoya and Y/N to showcase Y/N’s development, from someone who thoughtlessly defended her husband to someone who could stand up for herself (all while alone!). I envisioned this interaction many times, and I thought about different ways to approach the scene, the delivery, the dialogue, the choreography, etc. It took me a while to go for what I currently have. Thank you for reading!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[axnrxn]

hi, may i request for reader who looks really innocent and gentle but loves to give dirty jokes? or maybe reader that likes saying something ordinary but always has sexual innuendos. and she pretends like she doesn’t understand why they are laughing/embarrassed/groaning from what she said? please and thank you. i hope this one gets picked, ill be waiting and hoping. thanks! 🥰

Innuendos | MW2 characters (König, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish) x GN!reader

Warnings: Sexual innuendos, or my poor attempts at them. I made this fic GN now<3

König

You love to fluster this man endlessly, which isn't difficult to begin with. So instead of simply flustering him, you want to see how much you can fluster him.

During a mission, you turned to König and sighed dramatically.

“You'd better give me a pearl necklace when this is all over with, god knows I deserve one.”

“W-What?” König laughed nervously, attempting to cover up his embarrassment and dirty thoughts.

“You know, a pearl necklace? I could totally pull it off, I just know it,” you said casually, knowing exactly what your partner was thinking.

“Oh, uhm, like those fancy ones from the jewelry stores?” His Austrian accent thickened as he became more flustered.

König was silently thanking himself for keeping his face hidden because it was incredibly pink all the way down his neck, he could feel the heat radiating from his intense blush.

“Of course, what else would I be talking about?” you replied innocently, knowing full well that's not what you meant.

You just loved to make your taller, imposing partner squirm in his uniform. You smirked to yourself, seeing the slight sliver of his face visible through his hood turn visibly pink.

“You alright up there, König?” You asked with a little laugh, unable to completely hide your teasing.

“Mmm, yes” König groaned before answering you.

You walked off toward the rest of the team, leaving him to stew in his dirty thoughts.

“Scheiß” he muttered, believing you were out of earshot.

You smiled, having gotten the reaction you were going for.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You looked across the table to your lieutenant. Ghost gestured for you to get up from dinner, making you groan.

"Come on, relax a bit with the rest of us, Ghost." You whined, already tired from your sniper training.

"No rest for the wicked, sergeant." He replied sharply.

"Well, you had me on my knees all day." You groaned, deep down hoping that he caught your "unintentional" innuendo.

"What now?" He asked, caught off guard.

"Yeah, you had me on my knees all day for you. My knees and back are killing me now." You laid it on thicker, emphasizing 'all day' as you spoke.

"Well princess, you've gotta get a move on so we're ready for our mission in the morning. Need you on your A-game." He huffed, trying to avoid your eyes.

"My knees are gonna be too bruised to be on my A-game tomorrow thanks to you, lieutenant." You went on, trying to fluster your superior.

He wasn't budging much, given the stoic man he is, but you could tell your words made him a bit hot under the collar. He shifted his shoulders under the weight of his vest, straightening his back a bit as if to reassert his authority.

"Come on sergeant, you and me. You will be responsible for watching Soap's six. Let's go." He said gruffly, not waiting for another coy response from you before turning on his heel and leaving the common area you were eating in.

You sighed and hastily followed Ghost back toward the training area. As you got closer, you quieted your footsteps and peered around the corner, just enough to catch Ghost adjusting his noticeably tighter pants. You smirked, confirming that your words had a greater effect than he had let on.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

"God, I love a good sausage breakfast in the morning" you yawned as you dug into your food. Johnny had managed to find a local butcher shop willing to sell at cheap wholesale prices for you and 141.

"What ya say there, private?" Johnny asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

"Sausage. In the morning. I love it. Thank you, Johnny" you replied between bites.

He chuckled, lightly punching your arm.

"O' course, y'know I'll always give ya sausage in the mornin'." he winked, watching you scarf down your breakfast.

"Well I expect sausage from you every morning from now on, Johnny" You stated, unwilling to end your innuendos with Johnny playing along.

Gaz made a dramatic gagging sound. The rest of 141 had enough of your flirting for the morning.

"Oi, slow down. Just enjoy it today, yeah?" His cheeks got a bit pink following Gaz's interruption.

"Mmm, alright Johnny." You replied, smiling.

As you were about to leave the common area, Johnny stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

"If ya want some extra, you know where to find me, yeah?" He whispered in your ear. He smirked at you as he walked back to his quarters.

"Don't have to tell me twice," you mumbled to yourself, looking for the least suspicious way to follow Johnny without the rest of 141 noticing.

The inspiration audio

A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I wanted to make it unique for each character rather than recycling innuendos/scenarios! I only wrote for Konig, Ghost, and Soap because those are the characters whose speech I'm most familiar with. I want to write more for Alejandro, but I don't want to make him sound not like himself if that makes sense. Thank you anon for giving me my first request!

[phoneuserhana333]

.°˖✧ part 2/3: neighbor!doctor!abby / neighbor!producer!reader headcanons .°˖✧

tags: NSFW!!!, sick!reader, mention of nausea and illness, hand on throat, cliffhanger, ellie appears.

i acc hate how this part turned out :( i hope it’s somewhat enjoyable, barely proofread</3 sorry :((((

PART1 — PART2 — NSFWHC — N(SFW)HC

• you successfully forced abby into a temporary truce. sort of. falling sick and losing your voice, motivation and strength left you low on groceries and medication. so you opted to sleep through the nauseating headaches and eat oatmeal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. it was bad bad.

• so bad, in fact, that you sought out abby’s help. sure, she was a seemingly pretentious, stuck up ER nurse with a mean streak and a hatred for anything fun, but she had the medical knowledge you desperately needed to get back on your feet. plus, she definitely had pain relief medication lying around her house.

• this lead to a strange deal to form between abby and you; nurse anderson agreed to get food and medicine and deliver it to you until you got better, in exchange for three weeks of peace and quiet. hesitant, but desperate, you agreed. this was a huge win for abby. all she wanted was you to be quiet, after all.

• on the first day of your deal, you didn’t let abby come inside, claiming that you were quarantining and demanding she leaves the tote bags full of groceries outside. you barely managed to pull them into your home and the heaviness made you break a sweat, causing your fever to worsen. you texted abby that you were feeling worse and she managed to convice you to come over tomorrow after work for a check up.

• the day after, a defeated patient greeted abby at the door, avoiding her questioning gaze. she sighed and entered your home with a smaller bag filled with medicine and her briefcase with equipment that her dad gifted her. abby was a keeping her side of the deal to a t, she was determined to get on your good side, hoping you’d tune your partying and constant noisiness down for good.

• upon entering your home, the blonde was stunned. bookshelves, a grand piano, papers everywhere, even a chess board. you were smarter than she gave you credit for. the woman let you lead her to your bedroom where the air was thicker and the blinds were pulled down, hiding a bed full of tissues and forgotten mugs in the dark. fuck, her condition might be worse than i thought, abby thought to herself as she stared at your messy floral sheets, or she’s lazy, which might be even worse.

• abby checked you with the care of someone who has been in the medical field for decades, taking her time with you. your temperature was high and you were shivering, claiming to be cold while burning up. abby telling you to pull your shirt up wasn’t helping your trembling state either.

“take me on a date first, w-why dontcha?”

“sorry, y/n. i don’t date neighborhood brats.”

• you pout, too tired to argue, jumping when you feel the freezing stethoscope abby placed against your bare back.

“ow, ow, ow- abby what the hell?! s’cold!”

“god, you’re such a crybaby! here-“

• abby pulled away and warmed the metal with her hot breath, rolling her eyes as she did. your pitiful appearance was only surface level, a cruel reminder to abby that you weren’t a doe-eyed, helpless girl next door she got to take care of and feed soup, much to her disappointment. her cute little face is hiding a literal devil, abby muses, listening to your irregular heartbeat.

• what abby wasn’t aware of however, was how often she thought of you as cute. it was always- “that cute brat”, “…kind of endearing if she wasn’t so annoying” or even “a handful”, complaining to manny on the phone with her darkened eyes glued to your ass, watching as you rushed past her home to catch a train. abby was getting lost in thought, her brain full of aforementioned handfulls and soft plump skin and maybe even her landing a rough spank on- fuck. no. that was wrong.

• … right?

• you, on the other hand, were wide eyed and choking on words. abby placed her warm hand on the small of your back, forcing you to straighten up. she was moving the chest piece around, occasionally telling you to breathe deeper, in a voice that your hazy mind registered as surprisingly hot.

• what really made your heartbeat skip, was her thumb rubbing your back, tracing the elastic waistband of your pajama pants and then slipping underneath to explore the hidden skin. was abby aware she was doing this?! why weren’t you saying anything?!

• … why did it feel so good?

• abby pulled your shirt down, packing away her equipment as she started to speak, offering you a final diagnosis (“you’re so dramatic, it’s just a cold”). the blonde was peeking at your shaking form from the corner of her eye, watching you pick up your tissues and mugs, trembling with barely open eyes. it may be just a cold, but you were obviously drained.

“… ugh. lay down, okay? i’ll take these downstairs.”

• abby rolled her eyes and took over cleaning up your cups. she ignored your protests as she walked downstairs to your kitchen to rinse your dirty dishes in the sink and get your dishwasher started. when she looked up, she saw a few photos on the cupboard above the sink, memories of you and your friends.

• on the one in the middle, you were hugging two girls, playfully kissing one on the cheek, caught mid laugh. her gaze softens. you were a good friend. but a horrible neighbor. for a second, abby lets herself get lost in her head, her eyes staring at the polaroids, unblinking.

• the next few days went by quickly with daily visits from abby. you started to get better, taking it easy and trying to cough quietly as to not bother your neighbor. abby was tired; december was coming up and she was unsure of her plans for the holidays. work was becoming more stressful and the ER was full of people- well, more than usual.

• abby stopped visiting as frequently when she noticed you were getting better, instead sending you wave and tell you off for not cleaning snow off your doorway or wearing a jacket she deemed to be too thin.

• until she stopped acknowledging you altogether. abby was purposefully ignoring you and you just couldn’t find out why. you were used to her eyes following you around, guarding you in some way, like some weird nurse-angel. why was she slowly becoming a ghost you could barely catch a glimpse of? had you done something wrong?

• instead of simply confronting abby, you chose to ignore her back, sending cold looks towards her whenever you crossed paths on the sidewalk. abby, on the other hand, would blush, thinking about how she saw you in only your tiny maroon panties a week ago, naked and on display in your window. since then, she couldn’t look at you, scared that you’d somehow find out that you were the reason she’s been moaning at night the past few days. seeing you on the street would make abby shut eyes shut tightly, fighting her mind as it conjured the image of your pussy and your hard nipples hidden by lacy curtains on a cold december night.

• one thing lead to another, and both of you ended up alone on christmas eve. abby swore she was just going to check on you, see if you were alright. the sight of you with puffy eyes and pouty lips, wrapped in a festive blanket made abby feel fuzzy. before she knew it, she invited you over.

• emotions running high and a somewhat romantic candlelit dinner resulted in you falling into abigail anderson’s bed. she fucked you until morning came, overstimulating you into oblivion and not letting you go until she was satisfied. and after that, she made you hot cocoa.

• despite pretending to be nonchalant, you were a goner. abby had wrapped her hand around your neck and reached down your throat to squeeze your heart. you wanted abby to be yours so bad.

• abby, however, was still hesitant to commit to you. you were the best sex she’s ever had in her life, your hot mouth and tight cunt left her aching for days after, running home to you every night after work, but did she like-like you? what if you didn’t like her back? abby was used to being non-committal, so why was she so enamored with the idea of sharing her life with you?

• this inner turmoil didn’t stop abby from eating you out on your counter top, fingerfucking you while taking a bath together, letting you grind against her thigh in her bedroom.

• god, why was everything so intimate all of a sudden? abby ground you harshly on her chiseled leg, moving your hips with force and pulling a nipple, anything just to hear you whine. with your forehead pressed against hers, you whispered “please, abby. need you-“ and she was gone. her pace quickened as she moaned “good girl, goooood girl…” over and over again. you truly were the best girl ever, abby thought, as you rode out your high on her, now wet, leg.

• sex this heavenly landed abby in your house on new years eve, attending one of your infamous (and unexpectedly fun) parties. she met your friends, dina and jesse. and… ellie. she recognized the two women- they were on one of the polaroids in your kitchen, ellie was the girl who’s cheek you were kissing.

• ellie was too close to you for abby’s liking, touching your back and brushing a finger against your lips after you took a shot of tequila. why was she telling you to “take it easy, babe”, why was she calling you babe? abby felt her blood boil as she rolled her eyes at the overly flirty tone ellie used, taking a sip of her favorite wine you made sure to get just for her.

• just when abby thought that it couldn’t get worse, ellie tried to make a move on you.

“so, y/n. any-uh, plans on who you’ll kiss tonight?”

[xan-izme]

Dubble life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 2

Part 1, Part 3

Summary: Reader struggles to get used to their new life in Gotham. Worrying constantly about her family in New York. A rise of tension rises between readers father figure Aaron and her real father Bruce.

After the dinner, you got yourself ready for bed. The old boombox player you had was playing soft music in the background.

You turned the lights off, slipped into bed and stared at absolutely nothing. Even with the soft music playing, you were just itching to break into your suit and jump from building to building. You were missing your life as Spider-Woman. You missed your aunt and uncles. You missed your cousin. He was literally your twin.

You practically bawled your eyes out while saying goodbye to him. Suddenly, your train of thought was broken when you heard a ringing sound. You sat you and grabbed your phone, for some reason, hoping that it was your mother calling, telling you she was going to be home late tonight.

It wasn't your mother, of course, it was Miles, your cousin. You happily accepted the call. "Miles! oh my God, I missed you!" You could hear the boy chuckle on the other side of the phone.

"We saw each other this morning."

You pout and groan "I know! but it feels like it's been days." You knew you were acting like a toddler, but don't you deserve to act like this? After the nights filled with crime, days filled with unwanted drama.

You and Miles stayed on the phone. Not much talking involved. Talking was too much to do, knowing that they couldn't say the usual 'See you tomorrow' or Miles reminding you to be safe on your little outings. You did end up crying at one point, which caused Miles to tear up, but you don't know that, and he would like to keep it that way.

The next few weeks went by in a blink of an eye, dinner most of the times ended up just being you and Alfred, which you understand, knowing Bruce is busy, and Damian doesn't really like you. Tim would join you for lunch at times. You soon found out Tim was a geek. Which made you talk and ramble off about your plans for the future. Besides from that, you were mostly alone in the house.

Now it was your first day of school, your uncle Aaron offered to drive you for your first day. You asked Bruce for permission first of course.

Bruce at first wanted to say no, but when he pondered about it. It would be good for you to be with someone you knew better to be with you on your first day.

But Bruce looked into Aron. The man was trouble, used to be involved in lots of bad people back in the day. Just to be safe, Bruce decided to tag along. This would also help Bruce get closer to you, get to know the real you.

Putting aside the formalities and the instant obedience you give him.

The doorbell rang, Alfred opened the door and see Aaron standing with a blank expression, one matching Alfreds. "Ah, Mister Davies. Lady Y/n is curently getting ready. Please follow me."

Without any words, Aaron follows Alfred to a room. Thats where he meets Bruce.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Davies." Bruce puts a smile on his face and extended his hand to greet. Aaron smiled a little and shook his hand

"Same here. And Aaron is fine."

The two men sat down and began to talk. It was normal, but only for a small amount of time. The tension in the room began to rise when Aaron's past was brought up.

". . . I admit. I went down the wrong path when I was younger. But I grew out of that mess. But if this is about Y/n, then I guaranty you she is nothing like me. She's a good girl."

"I know she is. I'm not suggesting anything Ill towards my daughter."

Aaron chuckled "Daughter? Don't take this personally. But she ain't your daughter. Not till she says so."

Before any real argument could be made, you came busting in the room. "Uncle Aaron!"

"Baby girl!" Aron at up and opened his arms for a hug.

You ran into the man's arms. Giggling as Aaron gave your head a kiss.

"Look at you. In your little uniform."

You smiled more and twirled around for Aaron to see the whole fit better. "You like it?"

"I love it."

The car ride was a little awkward, but at least it wasn't fully awkward.

Aaron gave you some money and a few good luck kisses and I love You's from Rio. You gave Bruce a hug goodbye.

It's been almost a month since Spider-woman was last seen. Tim did take an interest in this Spider-woman and was going to offer her to join the Young Justice League. You were just one person looking after New York all on your own, with no help. It was very impressive.

But now Spider-Woman was just nowhere to be seen. She has just gone MIA. Now the Prowler was taking care of the city. The media has gone crazy after the disappearance of Spider-woman.

'WHERE IS SPIDER-WOMAN?'

'SPIDER-WOMAN ON THE RUN?'

What did catch Tim's attention was the last time Spider-Woman was seen was the day Y/n's mother died. A lot of people were hurt that day Only one dead, which was your mother. Tim has come to a small theory that the death of your mother is connected to the disappearance of Spider-woman.

It's been a full week since you started school, the first day, teachers were really nice to you. They already knew about your mother, which had them pity you. And Bruce being your father made them extra nice. You already didn't like the kids. Seeing them as fake. Because they were. Those smiling faces, those empty words.

You knew them all too well. You do the same, fake knows fake, guess that's what you could call it. Damian was of course no help. Ignoring you as much as he could. Which you didn't actually care.

Why would you care for someone who clearly don't care for you? No need to waste any energy on him. You did take interest in a few clubs. You did need to pick one that you didn't have to attend all the time. One that didn't need too much of your attention. So, you picked the art club.

You saw how much kids were in there, with those number of kids, no one expects you to get to know them all, nor make friends with them all. There are also very talented kids in the club, and the art they do isn't your style, so you're not the best. Which was in a way, good to keep cover.

Right now, you were at the manor. Your uncle dropped off the extra books you left at his place. half of your room looked a section in a library. You knew there was a library in the manor. But they weren't your books. Even if Bruce insists that most of the things in the manor was also yours, that's not how you saw it.

The things you brought from New York was yours, the cloths, books, pictures. You just felt like a guest. Nothing else.

You were curently in your room, listening to a playlist Miles made for you. You were just finishing up your homework when you heard a knock on your door.

"Y/n? It's me, Bruce." The voice on the other side of the door spoke. "Come in!" You say, just loud enough for him to hear.

Bruce enters the room, when he sees you, a small smile graces his lips. You gave him an awkward smile as you wait for what he needed to tell you.

"My schedule is cleared out today. I was wondering if you wanted to go out shopping with me." Bruce was taking a look around your room. Looking at the items you kept on shelves, pictures. Trying to know what you would like, so he could buy something for you that was more of your style.

"And me!" Suddenly Dick popped out of the door with a bright smile on his face. "Nice room." Drick mumbled as he went near your bookshelf. Seeing what books, you were into.

"Ah. . . I would love to, sir- Bruce. But I don't got much on me." You had your own card, you had about 300 or 500 in. But you don't use it unless you're out and really need something to eat. On top of that, you kind of have a spending problem you need to control.

"No need to worry about that." Bruce pulled out his card "It's all on me."

You had no choice but to go with them. You sat in the back seat. Dick in the passenger seat while Bruce was driving. "How's school? make any friends?" Dick spoke up, turning down the volume of the radio. "Oh, it's alright. Me a few kids, they were pretty nice."

The car pulled up to a store. You walked in with the two men and started looking around. You saw plushies that looked really cute. "Can I get these?" You pointed at the plushies and looked up to Bruce for permision.

"Of course." Dick grabbed the plushies and you all started to get more things. Clothes, shoes. You were pretty satisfied with what you had. Bruce purchased what you had picked out, along with a few dresses Dick picked out for you.

Bruce was able to talk to you more. He knows that you like a lot of music genres, you seem to have a deep bond with your cousin Miles and your uncle Aaron. You speak highly of Miles, like he was a sun in the sky to praise.

Bruce was still hooked up on what Aaron had said. Bruce knows that he can't fix the sixteen years he missed in your life, but he wants to try and be there for you now. Try to break down that fake smile of yours.

What? You think he didn't notice.?

Bruce knows what pain looks like. And he can see it all over you. In your actions, your words. In your voice. Whatever makes you cry, whatever fears you have. Bruce will make them all go away. And he is determined to earn the title as your father. For you to finally call him by that title.

Because he's your father. And that's what fathers do.