#or i would if i had a better throwing arm

[sunflowerwinds]

sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: vi has crept up into your mind and is keeping put so to try to relieve some of that bubbling crush energy, you bake her some protein muffins. after delivering them to her, she invites you to isha’s birthday party. meeting her entire family is nerve wracking but you’re welcome with open arms.

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is an actual sweetheart, MY family (vander, isha, ekko, jinx, & sevika mentions), fluff and flirty tension, kind of slowburn but not really.

word count: 5.5K

a/n: what do y’all think of my new pfp?😝 i’m so glad everyone has enjoyed that first part of this little series. the overwhelming amount of support has touched my heart, i’m so sorry this took two weeks to come out i will try and be faster with the next part <3 & would 3 parts be too short? lmk in the replies!

— TWO

Making protein muffins was harder than you thought.

You had tried out multiple recipes with different flavors within the span of two days and it was driving your grandmother and your sister up the wall. Her kitchen now smelled like a mixture of all the different scents that were giving her a headache.

They were either dry, not enough flavor, too dense, not fluffy, too strong, etc. The list went on. But finally, on the third day of anxiously cooking, you perfected a beautiful and delicious batch of pumpkin muffins with a few blots of chocolate chips.

Ever since you found out that Vi worked at a kickboxing studio, it sparked an idea in your brain. You could bake some protein muffins to give her. Worried she wouldn’t like them, you double checked with her. You open your text thread with Vi, grinning at the last message she had sent you of the actual address of the studio so that you wouldn’t get lost.

Anxiously tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you stare at the sign above the studio with hesitation. You had done yourself up a bit; just a tad. Okay, a little more than a tad.

This was Vi’s first time seeing you outside of work and you wanted to make a better impression than messily tossed up hair and bundled up layered outfits. You sported a mini black skirt with a pair of opaque tights with an over the shoulder cherry red sweater, your hair left in its natural state. You stare at the black marker writing of Vi’s name on the box in the passenger's seat of your car.

Would she think you were trying too hard?

No, no, no overthinking, you scold yourself. You tug down your sun visor on your driver’s side to double check your makeup before grabbing your purse and the box of muffins for Vi. You open your driver's side to step out onto the gravel parking lot, sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves as you tug on the cold handle to the door of the studio.

The moment you stepped into the dim lit area, you spotted Vi almost immediately. A black compression athletic tank hugged her upper body, showing off her muscular upper body. Her bandaged hands were landing blows to a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The sound of her soft grunts and the clinking of the chain holding it up the heavy vinyl bag echoed within the space.

You stand at the edge of the large mat covering the area, unknowingly frozen in place at the sight of Vi’s veins popping out of her biceps with each punch she was throwing. You snap out of it when you realize how long you might’ve been standing there for, clearing your throat and shaking your head at how embarrassing that was.

“Vi, hi!” You wave from across the rubber gym tiles at her panting figure, a bright smile on your face.

Vi lowers her balled up wrapped fists that had been previously punching the bag to wave back at you, a smile creeping onto her lips at the sight of you holding the little tray of homemade treats. You looked like a doll out of place in this sweat-ridden studio in your adorably cozy outfit.

Vi made her way over to where you stood at the edge of the mat, eyes panning up and down as subtly as possible. Seeing her outfit up close caused a heat to tickle the tips of your ears. You swore you could see her abs through the material.

“Hey, cupcake. Those for me?”

“Yep! Thought I’d drop them off before I… head out.” You cleared your throat, nervously smiling at her as you fiddled with the cardboard of the box you had bought for this.

Vi grabs a small towel from a foldable chair where parents would sit through classes to wipe over the back of her sweat-ridden neck. She was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You couldn’t tell if you were staring at her as obviously as you thought. Worried you were going to seem like an absolute creep, your eyes blink as they focus on her face.

“Yeah? You have plans today?” Vi hangs the towel around her neck, crossing her arms over her chest.

The movement caused your eyes to flicker down to the protruding muscle. You were sure this time you were staring as her dark tattoos were glistening underneath the thin layer of moisture from her workout. God, you could hear your grandma now teasing you for getting distracted by muscles of all things.

“I mean I’m just going to the grocery store. Need a few more things for Isha’s cake.” You nod to confirm, flickering your eyes back up to hers.

They were somehow even more captivating than her biceps. Her lips twitch into a small grin, nodding slowly.

“The people at the store are very lucky.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto your lips.

“Shut up,” you look around at the equipment and trophies around the room to try and hide the heat that was undoubtedly forming on your cheeks. “Were you just working out here? Or did you have a class?”

“Yeah, I had a class earlier but it was for mostly 6 to 8 year olds so they didn’t beat me up too bad this time,” Vi jokes as she reminds you of her injuries from the last time you saw her.

You chuckle as you can only imagine seeing Vi with a whole group of children, gently encouraging them to take hits at her. Oh, your heart skipped at the thought.

“Yeah, I mean you look good now.” You blurt out without thinking.

Taking way too long to realize what had stumbled out of your mouth, Vi’s brows raise at your words as the faintest of smirks forms on her lips.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes flicker up to hers, self-consciousness washing over you once that realization sets in. Your mouth opens as you grip the box as some sort of comfort to ease the humiliation creeping up your neck.

“Not that you don’t look good all the time because you–you do! I mean, I don’t see you everyday but I’m sure you do,” you try and recover, voice becoming softer as you trail off.

Vi unfolded her arms from her chest to reach forward to rest them on your shoulders, faintly chuckling at your panic. “Cupcake, relax. I knew what you meant.”

You suck in a deep breath at her touch but you mask it as attempting to calm down from your frantic words.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll just leave these with you now,” you pat the top of the box, looking into her eyes. “I’ll see you soon so you can pick up the cake at the shop?”

Vi nodded in agreement with the set plan, taking the box of muffins from your hands. You nearly frown at the loss of touch that was somehow burning onto your skin even though you were wearing a thicker sweater.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon but,” she clears her throat, moving the box to rest on one of her forearms as she brushes her front pieces of hair to the side. “Did you want to come to Isha’s birthday party?”

“Seriously?” Your smile widens.

Vi nods, eyes crinkling a bit from her smile matching your own.

“Are you sure?” You question, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. “It won’t be awkward not being family or anything?”

“No, I mean. It’s a small party but I think you’d have fun,” Vi shrugs her shoulders, suddenly becoming more sheepish. “Isha wants you there. Couldn’t stop talking about the nice bakery lady.”

“Just Isha?” You tilt your head, hopeful that she would give you the answer that you craved.

Vi taps on the box with a small smile. “I want you there, too.”

Oh, your gram would be jumping with glee seeing this interaction. Your face ignites a flame at her honesty, nodding with a beaming smile.

“I’ll be there. I’ll just bring the cake then.” You nod, pushing back flyways from your hair.

“Okay, good. I’ll text you the address, cupcake.”

You nod for what felt like the millionth time at the pink haired girl, taking a step back to try to force yourself to leave her warm presence.

“Okay and if you like those, uh, muffins, let me know if you want any other protein snacks. I like a good baking challenge.” You motion to the muffins.

Please say yes, you internally begged.

“I will. Though, I doubt I won’t like them if you’re the one baking them,” Vi assures your frantic mind.

You grin at her awkwardly, not knowing how to take these little flirty gestures she would throw at you. At least, you thought they were supposed to be flirty.

“Okay, okay,” you wave your hands, chuckling sheepishly to yourself as you realize you’ve probably overstayed your welcome. “I’ll leave you to… your boxing stuff.”

Vi chuckles at your wording, pointing to the clear door.

“Have fun shopping. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, Vi.”

You felt like throwing up from your nerves.

You had texted Vi later that day after dropping off the muffins what you should wear so that you wouldn’t be either too overdressed or underdressed. It was a child's birthday party, for God’s sake but you still didn’t want to be too out of place especially around her family.

from vi ♥︎ | Do you have any options?

to vi ♥︎ | kind of? i have ideas of what i could wear but i’m stuck :/

from vi ♥︎ | Let me see and I’ll tell you what looks best!

You nearly dropped your phone on your face at the message. Standing up from your bed, you scurried to your closet to pick out two options as you didn’t want to bombard her with photos of yourself. You quickly change in your planned outfits minus the shoes, sending both of them to her. You were panting from how you switched from one to the next.

from vi ♥︎ | Fuck, you look good in both

from vi ♥︎ | I was expecting this to be an easier decision but you really just look good in either.

to vi ♥︎ | violet :(

Could she tell how flustered you were from behind the screen?

from vi ♥︎| I’m serious

from vi ♥︎ | But if you want me to choose, I’ll say the first one!

to vi ♥︎ | thank youuu! i was stressed about that lol

from vi ♥︎ | You’re going to be fine. I promise :)

to vi ♥︎ | really?

from vi ♥︎ | Yes. You’re the lady bringing the cake. No one can hate the lady bringing the cake, duh.

to vi ♥︎ | yeah, yeah, okay. i’ll relax now.

Now you were standing at the front door of the small suburban home in that very outfit that Vi had chosen; a white tee with an espresso brown cardigan over it and a pair of your favorite baggy dark wash jeans. Your hair was half-up, half-down and your cleanest pair of Docs. You rang the doorbell just a few seconds ago, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door.

If you held your breath, you could hear muffled footsteps approaching the wooden door. The sound of the locks unlatching signals you to straighten your back, preparing yourself for whoever was going to answer the door. The hinges creak as it swings open to reveal Vi, sporting a welcoming smile.

Similar to you, she was wearing a brown cut off sleeve top, a white tank top underneath the open torso portion and a pair of black jeans. You try not to read into the matching colors too much.

“Hi! I was so scared I got the wrong house,” you chuckle as you stare into her eyes.

“Nope, you got it. Everyone is in the back. Come on,” Vi reaches for your hand, tugging you through the small house halls.

You nearly drop the cake as you urge her to slow down, releasing soft chuckles at her eagerness. You glance around at the cozy walls of the home, catching a few glances at a few family photos hanging and set up on shelfs. You made a mental note to try and sneak inside to get a closer look at those.

You step through a white chipping back door, Vi guiding you to the birthday party set-up for the precious child. Green streamers hung on the wooden fence to appear as vines as a photo op and a foldable table that was filled with wrapped and bagged presents with Isha’s name in balloons with a few animal print ones surrounding the inflatable letters as music played from a speaker. It wasn’t the coldest day as it was nearing the end of November but there was a slight breeze and the sun was shining beautifully to really wrap up the sight of this unknown family.

You hold up the cake underneath the white box, subconsciously gripping onto Vi’s hand due to the anxiety swimming through your veins.

“Come on. I want you to meet everyone,” Vi insists, a charming smile on her face as she walks up to a group of people that were sitting at a round table that had a jungle leaf tablecloth over it.

The whole table had cups of drinks in front of them, talking amongst each other with animated features.

“Hey guys,” Vi speaks up, her hand still holding yours gently.

A chorus of greetings overwhelms you in a good way as she goes around the table to name them off one by one.

“Okay, this is Jinx, my other sister,” she points to a pale skinned girl with two electric blue hip length braids, a few strands coming from the front to frame her face.

The girl smiles at you with kindness, eyes widening as she seems to realize who you are.

“You’re the bakery girl? That donut was delicious. I have full trust that the cake will be amazing,” Jinx nodded with a wink, leaning into the darker skinned boy next to her.

“That’s Ekko,” Vi chuckles as she points at white haired boy.

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” he grins at you, nodding his head at you to show his acknowledgement of you.

“Hi!” You reciprocate the gesture, looking at the more broad woman on the other side of him.

“And Sevika. Don’t let that mean face scare you. Just wait until Isha comes down from the bouncy house.” Vi gave your hand a squeeze, a teasing grin on her face.

Sevika huffs at the pink haired girl's words but manages to press a semi-warm smile on her face in your direction. You nod with a more timid ‘hi’ leaving your lips. You didn’t want to say it out loud but she scared you a bit.

Okay, she scared you a lot.

“I think my dad’s inside but I’ll go let Isha know you’re here. Be right back.” Vi, after what felt like ages, released your hand to walk over to the bouncy house that was filled with a few more kids around Isha’s age.

The second her warm palm left your own, a wave of alarm washed over your features now being left alone with people that were closest to her. You turn to the group with the calmest expression you could muster to attempt to hide how nerve-wracking this was for you.

“You can relax, you know,” Jinx was the first to speak, tilting her head at your tense figure. “Here. I can take the cake. I’ll put it in the fridge.”

She stood up, reaching her pale hands out to you to take the cardboard box from you. You thank her quietly as you allow her to relieve you of that worry, leaving you alone with Ekko and Sevika.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward,” you shake your head, taking the seat opposite to Sevika to leave Jinx’s spot still open.

“Vi told us how nervous you were so we were kind of expecting it,” Ekko admits which makes you wince a bit. “But, hey, we could do some ice breakers? Tell us something that’ll ease the tension.”

You nod at Ekko’s offer, pondering for a moment as you pick out a random fact from the depths of your brain’s memory log.

“Oh, I went to the hospital when I was 7 because I swallowed my Polly Pocket’s purse because my grandma said I had ‘wanted to know what it tasted like’.” You offer, glancing between the two strangers in front of you.

Sevika raised one of her palms to cover her mouth like she was trying to hide her amusement from your sentence. Ekko’s eyes widened as he snorted back a laugh, causing you to proudly smile at yourself on succeeding on breaking the ice just a bit.

“Jinx nearly burned my hair off when we were kids. She was obsessed with making homemade bombs,” Ekko shared with you, pointing to a mark in his eyebrows. “I still can’t grow hair in this spot on my eyebrow because of it.”

“I got this scar from her kicking me in the face when she wouldn’t go to the dentist when she was 9,” Sevika pointed at her half an inch scar on her top lip with a shake of her head.

“Okay so what I’m hearing is to stay clear of Jinx,” you joke.

This seemed to ease the tension between you and the two completely, them nodding to confirm. Slowly but surely, everyone started sharing stories of their childhood as did you. You learned alot about Vi and her little family through these two, feeling more connected to them already. As you shared what your jobs were like, you feel a smaller frame tackle you from the side. You look down to see a head of wild bronze waves cling onto your arm.

It was undoubtedly Isha. Vi stood behind her with a sweet smile, folding her arms over her chest before she pats Ekko on the back as she sits herself down on the other side of you. You send her a quick glance, her brows raising as if to check up on you and you nod to assure her.

“Hey birthday girl,” you look down at her, golden eyes staring into yours.

She makes a delighted sound, snuggling more into you. You rub a hand over her back for a moment before raising your hands to sign that she looked cute, motioning to her adorable birthday sash and bunny ears over her black and white striped tee.

Signing right back to you with an elated smile, she says; ‘you look beautiful.’

Your heart tightens at her kind words, signing a ‘thank you’ before tugging her into a gentle embrace. Her back was a bit damp from what you assume is the sweat from jumping around in the bouncy castle.

“She’s excited for her cake,” Vi hums as she stares down at her sister with a teasing grin.

Isha nods enthusiastically at her words to confirm said excitement, looking over to Ekko and Sevika and signing something that you didn’t pick up due to her turning away from you. They both nod, eyes following over to Vi’s figure next to you with raised brows. You turn to look at Vi in confusion at the silent communication but choose to mind your own business as Vi’s cheeks seem to match her hair now. You didn’t want to embarrass her further.

“Alright, who’s hungry? The pizza’s here!” A deep English accent comes from behind the group, a burly yet kind looking man comes from the back door which you came from carrying five pizza boxes.

Jinx trails behind him with two bags of ice stacked on her own arms.

“You hungry, cupcake?” Vi places a hand on your shoulder, jerking her head over to the man.

You suck in a deep breath at her words, feeling Isha’s fingers wrap around your own that were resting in your lap. You were unbelievably hungry but knowing that this was going to be your first impression of Vi's father made your stomach churn, attempting to suppress your hunger.

But you push through.

“Yeah, I could eat,” you nod to confirm, turning your head to the side to give her a composed smile.

Sevika and Ekko followed you and Vi’s lead as you both stood up from your seats again to walk across the slightly overgrown grass, nearly tripping as a few more children passed by your hips and legs to run towards the table full of cardboard boxes of pizza.

“Hey, hey, slow down. One at a time,” the man told the group of kids, pointing at them to grab the disposable plates.

“Dad,” Vi called, taking your right hand once again while Isha still clung to your other.

“And who is this, Violet?” He questions his daughter as he places a slice on a child's plate in the line they formed.

“Hi!” You speak up before Vi could as you introduce yourself.

The man nods at your introduction, a friendly smile on his face as he plates another child’s plate. His eyes flicker to his eldest daughter with a raise of his brows before focusing his attention on you.

“Vander. Vi’s told me alot about you,” he states as he points to the pink haired girl standing next to you. “You’re the sweet lady who made Isha’s birthday cake. Got to say, I saw it in the fridge and it’s absolutely perfect. Thank you for doing that for her.”

You felt overwhelmed by the compliments from the man, strangely having the urge to hug him but only tighten your grip on Vi and Isha’s hands.

“Oh, it really was so much fun to make too. I don’t get a lot of cake orders so I was excited to test myself, I guess,” you assure the man of your adoration with the job.

“You work up an appetite baking? We’ve got some fine cuisine here,” his voice was playful as he motions to the greasy boxes.

You nod to confirm which resulted in a strong Dad-like laugh to leave Vanders’ throat before he raised a hand to clap on your shoulder, tugging you towards the boxes now that all of the children had gotten their own pizza slices. You release the two sister’s hands before looking up at the man.

The entirety of the birthday party quickly became a party game frenzy after everyone hounded down their greasy food. There was cup stacking; Vi won that one, pin the tail on the donkey; Isha won that, limbo; you almost broke your back trying to do that, etc. You saw a more eccentric and playful side of Vi, cursing her for being such a bright person around her family.

It made her all the more attractive.

When you ended up being her partner for the wheelbarrow race, you felt like a freak for those good few seconds where you were holding her legs up by her ankles so she could use her hands to ‘run’ across the grass. You kept your eyes straight forward for as long as possible.

They lingered a bit downward because why the hell did her ass look good in black jeans? You nearly won but Isha and one of their little cousins who had come to the party won that round due to you being… well, distracted for a moment. She stuck the middle finger up and stuck her tongue out at Vi quickly before Vander could see, causing you and Vi to gasp before she celebrated with her cousin again with a cheeky grin.

Your real enemy ended up being the three legged race. You and Vi’s hips were touching, arms interlocked as a bandana was being tied around your thighs to keep you from separating. You suck in a deep breath as Sevika tightens the fabric, patting the area to tell you two it was good.

“Good luck,” Sevika tells the two of you, standing back up to move on to Ekko and Jinx who were next in the lineup.

Vi grins at the elder, looking over at you as she brushes her hair out of face.

“Who do you think is going to win, huh?”

“I know you want me to say us but I have high hopes for Ekko and Jinx. She’s very scrappy,” you admit with a soft laugh, your hand twiddling with a loose fabric on your cardigan.

Vi nods slowly in agreement at your words.

“And Ekko?” She hums.

“He matches that,” you lean in closer before pulling back as the wind blows your hair a bit.

This Vi chuckles at, not denying that accusation. Vander moves to the front very end of the fence of the backyard, cupping his large hands around his mouth to shout the countdown.

“On your marks,” he yells, “get set.”

He pauses dramatically before raising his left hand upwards to mimic a flag and slam it back down before yelling out: “Go!”

You and Vi immediately start to move yourselves forward, Jinx whining that you two were cheating already. Vi’s hard bicep tug into your own as she tried to keep you two from tripping.

Isha and one of her cousins were catching up to you quickly, their little legs beating you. Some force was on your side that day as you had stepped forward with your free leg and rolled your ankle a bit on what felt like a toy.

It happened too fast for you to comprehend but you fell to the ground. You turned to your back side without thinking and nearly twisted your ankle doing so.

Vi’s hand attempts to grab your forearm but in doing so, falls over with you. Her body covers your own, her weight laying on top of your own. You groan at the impact hitting your stomach and chest, looking down at your legs to see that the fabric of the bandana had ripped which was what caused Vi’s body to be on you and not next. Her body shifts to lift her upper body up to relieve that ache in your chest.

Vi lifts her head to stare down at you with a concerned expression, hands on either side of your head.

“Shit, are you okay?”

You tilt your head down to how Vi’s hips were pressed into yours and look back up to stare into her twisted expression.

“Yeah, I’m… good,” you lied through your teeth as the back of your head was now throbbing.

Vi’s eyes were searching your own for any sort of discomfort. Your chests were centimeters apart as you breathed heavily to try and catch your breath, eyes boring into one another's. Suddenly, your head and backache were forgotten about. You swore for just a moment Vi’s eyes flickered down to your lips before pushing up off of you, grunting as she stood to her feet.

She brushed off her jeans before leaning forward to wrap her hand around your forearm to help you up and off the grass. You allow her to tug you upwards to your feet, avoiding her glaze like the plague.

“Ekko and Jinx take the cake!” You hear Vander start to clap, wincing out loud. “You two alright? Kind of got caught up in the competition for a moment there.”

“Fine, Dad,” Vi replies as she watches you brush off your own legs, sucking in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little headache but I’ll survive, Vi.” You shake your head, brushing your hair out of your face with a lighthearted chuckle.

You two sadly couldn’t speak for longer as Vander announced it was time for cake. Vi’s hand lingered on your arm as she ushered the two of you to the set-up, watching as Jinx carefully came out with the lit birthday cake. Your eyes round with admiration at Isha scrambling to sit still in her chair as her big golden eyes widen as everyone starts to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

Watching the scene unfold sent a bittersweet sense of comfort, remembering how you were once that small with a family like this. You hoped Isha could have this forever, security and love wrapped into one. If a tear left your eye, you’d disguise it as it being from the impact just a few moments ago.

The party died down slowly as adults and other family members came to pick up the other children that were at the function, getting pieces of the cake shoved into their palms that Vi had been praising since she took her first bite. Feeling like you had overstayed your welcome as the family was now gathered in the kitchen area to clean up, you quietly tell Vi that you should probably head home.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll walk you out,” Vi holds her finger up to Jinx, Ekko, Sevika, and Vander who were in the middle of a conversation.

“Aw, what? You have to go home already?” Jinx furrows her brows, huffing out a breath. “I didn’t even get to embarrass Vi in front of you yet.”

You chuckle at her words while Vi grumbles a sound of annoyance at her sister.

“I’m sure you’ll do it soon enough. And yeah, I got baking duties to tend to.”

“Well, I hope we get to see you more often and not just so you can bring us cake,” Jinx stepped forward to give you a quick hug.

You pat her back with a new sense of welcoming into Vi’s family, nodding in agreement with that statement. You say goodbye to everyone, making sure to sign Isha one more ‘Happy Birthday’ to which she signs back what you think is ‘Bye, pretty cake lady.’

As you walk down the halls to the front door, Vi questions: “What are you baking next?”

Catching you off guard, you ponder for a moment.

“Well, I’ve been dying to make some cinnamon rolls but kneading the dough can be tiring.” You huff as you watch Vi open the door for you, allowing you to step onto the gray concrete walkway that leads to the driveway. “Why?”

“Just… wondering.”

Then an idea sparks in your head as you lean against your car, turning to face Vi with a hesitant smile.

“Did you want to come over to mine to help me bake them?” You offer quickly before you could fumble and retract the statement.

Vi’s dark brows raise into her hairline at your invitation.

“You just want me to knead the dough, don’t you?” She teases.

You blow out a breath of air as you shrug your shoulders as if it wasn’t the first thing you thought of. “I mean, if you really want to. I wouldn’t mind it.”

Vi purses her lips as she nods, trying to repress her beaming smile. “Yes, I do want to.”

A sense of accomplishment washes over you at how you successfully made it through today without having any major screw-ups.

“I really had a good time today. I forgot how much fun birthday parties can be,” you grin sheepishly as you stand by your car, the sunset lighting up the side of your face beautifully.

Vi’s smile only grew at how stunning you looked.

“I told you that you would. You should come over more,” Vi shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head at you.

You hum with a playful smile as you bump your shoulder with hers. “So I can get multiple concussions? I don’t think so.”

“Well, I can promise I can try to prevent as many of those as possible.”

You chuckle out an ‘okay’ at her words, fiddling with your cardigan sleeve. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, the soft breeze sending shivers down your spine. Your bad habit of admiring her silently; nearly creepily hit you when you made eye contact with her, her brows raising at you challengingly.

“Right, yeah, so I’ll let you know when I have everything to make the cinnamon rolls,” you stated as your hand hovered your driver's side door handle, snapping out of your temporary trance.

Vi’s arms folded over the front of her chest, scuffing her shoes on the concrete of their driveway as she rocked her on her heels.

You find her eyes once again, taking in a confidence wielding breath as taking a step forward to wrap your arms around her neck. Vi was taken aback for half a second, breath hitching before she let her arms drop from their spot to hold you up your torso with one arm as the other raised to cradle the back of your head with her hand. You bury your head into her neck to cling onto the warmth for as long as you could.

“Thank you again for coming, cupcake. I’ll see you soon, alright?” Vi says gently into your temple, sliding her hand off of your head.

“Yeah,” you suck in a deep breath, “I’ll see you.”

Achingly doing so, you detach yourself from her embrace to finally get into your car. Vi stood in the driveway as you reversed and drive off, waving at you until you were down the road.

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☆⁠ 𝘗𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 : Robin Jason Todd x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 (𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯).

☆⁠ NOTES : 𝘛𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

Jason first noticed you during an English Lit discussion when you were debating the themes in Wuthering Heights. Most of the class was half-asleep, but you were animated, speaking with such passion that Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away. He didn’t even care about Heathcliff or Catherine, but if you were this invested, then he’d read the whole damn book twice just to have something to talk to you about. At first, he kept his distance, watching you from afar. You were too kind, too radiant, too good for someone like him. But Jason wasn’t known for his self-restraint. The more he watched you, the more he realized he couldn’t stay away.

Jason started sitting closer to you in class. He’d lean back in his chair, tapping his pen against his desk, waiting for the perfect moment to chime in when you spoke. He wanted your attention, even if it was just a quick glance his way. When you’d drop your pen, Jason would be the first to pick it up, handing it back with a lopsided grin. “Gotta be more careful, sunshine.” The nickname stuck, much to his delight. He quickly learned your schedule. Not in a creepy way (he tells himself), but because he just happened to notice you always stopped by your locker before lunch. He’d time it so he was walking by at the same moment, giving him an excuse to strike up a conversation. Jason’s protective instincts kicked in almost immediately. If anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way, Jason was there, glaring at them until they backed off. He didn’t care if it was some senior jock twice his size—no one messed with you.

One day, you stayed late at school to finish a group project, and Jason nearly lost his mind when he saw you walking home alone after dark. He followed you in the shadows, making sure you got home safely. The next morning, he casually handed you a pocket-sized pepper spray. “For emergencies,” he said, trying to play it cool. He started leaving little things in your locker. A book you mentioned wanting to read, your favorite candy, or a handwritten note that simply said, "Don’t forget to smile today, sunshine."

Jason had a habit of “accidentally” showing up at places he knew you’d be. Whether it was the library, the coffee shop down the street, or even the park where you liked to read, Jason was always “just passing by.” He’d flash you a sheepish grin and sit down, secretly thrilled at the chance to spend more time with you. He hated seeing you talk to other guys, especially when they made you laugh. Jason knew he didn’t have the polished charm of some of the rich kids at Gotham High, but he cared about you in a way no one else could. He’d clench his fists and bite his tongue, reminding himself that you deserved someone better—someone who wouldn’t scare you away with how much they needed you. But then you’d turn to him, smiling so sweetly, and Jason would forget everything else. He’d do anything to keep that smile on your face.

One evening, you stayed late at school again, and this time, someone actually tried to mess with you. Jason, of course, had been waiting nearby, as he always did when you stayed late. He didn’t hesitate to step in, taking down the guy with practiced ease. “Jason?!” you gasped when you saw him. He froze, realizing you’d caught him. “You—you were following me?” you asked, a mix of confusion and something softer in your voice. Jason rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence slipping away. “I just... wanted to make sure you were safe,” he muttered. “You don’t know how dangerous this city is. I couldn’t—I can’t let anything happen to you.” Instead of being scared, you surprised him by throwing your arms around him. “Thank you, Jason,” you whispered, and he swore his heart stopped.

From that day on, Jason was even more protective of you. He’d walk you home without an excuse, carry your books without asking, and sit with you at lunch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jason wasn’t the type to ask for permission, not when it came to you. He’d always been bold in everything he did—whether it was picking a fight with someone twice his size or throwing himself into danger without a second thought. But when it came to you, he hesitated. How could he ask you out without coming off as desperate? Without you realizing just how much space you occupied in his mind, how your laugh replayed in his head on a loop every night, and how he couldn’t sleep unless he knew you were safe?

It started like any other day. Jason was walking you to class, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder as he matched your pace. His usual smirk was in place, but inside, his mind was racing. He’d practiced the words over and over in his head. Just ask her. It’s not a big deal. She likes you, right? She has to. You didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil, chatting about your favorite movie and how you’d been wanting to watch it again. Jason latched onto that.

“Hey, uh... you doing anything this weekend?” he asked, trying to sound casual. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his usual cockiness slipping into nervousness. You tilted your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Not really. Why?” “Well, I was thinking... maybe we could catch that movie you like? Or, you know, grab some food after. Just us.” Your eyebrows shot up. “Jason Todd, are you asking me out?” His ears turned red. “Maybe. Depends on your answer.” You laughed—a sweet, melodious sound that made his chest tighten. “You’re cute when you’re nervous, you know that?” Jason huffed, trying to regain his composure. “So, is that a yes, or...?” “Of course, it’s a yes,” you said, nudging his shoulder playfully. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, you know.”

Jason was a bundle of nerves the entire day leading up to your date. He didn’t want to mess this up—not with you. He even went so far as to ask Alfred (secretly, of course) for advice, which earned him a lecture about being respectful and treating you like a lady. When he picked you up that evening, Jason was... different. He’d ditched his usual leather jacket for a nicer shirt, and his hands were tucked nervously into his pockets. But the moment he saw you step out of your house, his nerves vanished. “Wow,” he breathed. “You look... amazing.” You smiled, blushing slightly. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Todd.” He couldn’t stop grinning as he walked you to his bike. “Hold on tight, sunshine,” he teased as he handed you a helmet. “I’ve got you.”

Jason surprised you by actually being a perfect gentleman. He took you to your favorite little diner, the one you’d mentioned in passing weeks ago. He remembered everything you liked—the exact way you liked your burger, your favorite drink, even the little details about how you always added extra ketchup. During the movie, he couldn’t focus on the screen. Not when you were sitting so close, your shoulder brushing his. He was hyper-aware of every little movement you made—the way you laughed at the funny scenes, the way your eyes lit up during your favorite parts. And when you leaned your head against his shoulder halfway through, Jason thought he might actually die from happiness.

As the weeks went on, you started noticing things about Jason. How he always seemed to know where you were, how he’d intercept anyone who tried to bother you before they even got close, how he’d show up with your favorite snacks when you didn’t mention being hungry. It didn’t take long to piece it together. One evening, as you both sat on a rooftop (because Jason insisted the city looked better from up high), you decided to bring it up. “Jason,” you started, looking at him with a soft smile, “you’re really... protective, you know that?” He stiffened. “Is that... bad?” You shook your head, resting your hand on his arm. “No. It’s sweet. I know you just want to keep me safe.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I just... I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “You’re the best thing in my life, and the thought of anything happening to you—” “Jason,” you interrupted, squeezing his arm, “you don’t have to worry so much. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” He turned to look at you, his blue eyes filled with a vulnerability you didn’t expect. “You mean that?” You nodded. “I like having you around. Even if you’re a little... intense sometimes.” His lips twitched into a grin. “You think I’m intense now? You should see what I’d do if anyone actually hurt you.” You laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I think I’ll take your word for it.” Jason wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. In that moment, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep you happy and safe. You were his sunshine, his everything. And now that he had you, he wasn’t letting go. Not ever.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

★ synopsis: in order to get a creepy coworker off your back, you begrudgingly let sylus play the part of your fake boyfriend. unfortunately, your emotions and pride quickly spiral out of control.

★ character: sylus

★ cw: first person pov, enemies to lovers, fake dating, part 1 out of 2, angst, some swearing

★ word count: 5k

★ a/n: i had HELLA writers block while writing this, so if it seems chaotic and rushed that's why. i really wanted to scrap this but i spent so long on it i would be disappointed if i did. this is part one out of two, and i promise to get part two out super soon! it should be a lot better than this one *sob*

“Is that a new necklace?”

I grimace, the annoying twerp’s voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“No, Nicholas, it's the one I always wear.” I press my lips into a tight line, staring at the papers in front of me. After everything I’ve tried, I don’t know how he hasn’t caught on with how absolutely, utterly disinterested I am.

Nicholas was a recent graduate from the academy, starting his first year here at the Association. At first he seemed sweet, like an infatuated kid, but it quickly worsened and now I have to deal with harassment every day at work.

He’d do anything and everything to spark a conversation, trying to work any attention out of me despite all my efforts of ignoring him. I tried to be nice originally, letting him down easily whenever he’d pay me compliments and ask me out to lunch.

That didn’t work.

He became more persistent, and I resorted to either giving him the silent treatment or being straight up rude. Throwing him off my back seemed like an impossible task, and I was convinced I had developed some sort of parasite that was bound to me until I retired.

“Ah, I’ve never noticed…” Nicholas sat himself in front of me, and I could feel his stare on my face.

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up.

“Hey guys!”

Thank God.

Forcing a smile at Tara’s cheerfulness, Nicholas paid her a nod, clearly unsettled with her interruption. She came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. If there was anyone who was capable of putting a wedge in between me and my borderline stalker, it was Tara.

“Are you excited for the Hunter’s Ball? I can't believe it’s already coming up…” She sighed dreamily behind me, resting her cheek on the top of my head. While the Hunter’s Ball wasn’t my favorite event, it was typically a good time.

Well, at least before Nicholas came along.

I couldn’t imagine how it would go this year, him crawling six feet up my ass as I try to shake him off the whole night. It’s bad enough I have to deal with him sober, I can’t even imagine how much more unbearable he’d become with drinks in his system. This was the one night of the year the Association actually shows their appreciation for their employees, and I’d be damned if I couldn’t enjoy myself.

“It’s always nice we get a plus one,” Tara mentions, “I can't wait to see who everyone brings." She nudges my shoulder with her arm, laughing.

The look in Nicholas’ eyes told me everything he was about to say. I could practically hear the words come out of his mouth before he even spoke them-

“Yeah, I’m gonna bring my boyfriend.” I spoke before thinking, the words an act of desperation. Nicholas’ eyes widened and Tara’s arms flew from my body, as she whipped herself to stand in front of me.

Oh no, why would I say that- Why did I say that?!

“Your… what!” She started grasping at my hands, questions flying out of her mouth before I couldn’t even process half of them, “Since when? What’s his name? Where’d you meet him? Do you have any pictures?”

I knew I had gotten myself into trouble, I didn’t even have the slightest clue as to who I could possibly feign to be my boyfriend; but the look on Nicholas’ face told me I needed to keep up whatever I was doing, because it was working.

I smiled innocently, “We’ve been keeping it on the down low, things are still pretty new. I was planning to hard launch us at the Ball.” Chuckling nervously, I was convinced nobody was believing a word I was saying.

“Ohmygosh Mystery Man! I’m so excited!” Tara continued to blabber on, trying to pull any detail she could out of me. I made eye contact with Nicholas and thought about how soon the Ball was - only a week away.

Letting out a sigh of relief because of my believable lie, the feeling soon faded and was replaced with chest crushing stress. I had no boyfriend, and no plan; I was going to have to think fast.

-

Laying in my bed that night, I scoured my brain for any potential suitor. I thought maybe Zayne, a cardiac surgeon and childhood best friend. He’d be perfect, all my coworkers would be so pleased, but a cow would have to jump over the moon before he’d even think about complying. Maybe Xavier’s friend Jeremiah? A sweet florist…No, Xavier would never let me do that.

I flipped onto my stomach, screaming into my pillow. Smushing my face into the fabric, I silently prayed I’d suffocate and be free from this mess I’d webbed myself into.

Before I could pass out and be put out of my misery, my phone started to ring.

Not even looking at the caller id, I picked it up and answered with a disgruntled, “Hello?”

“You never sound pleased to hear from me, Kitten.”

I screamed into the pillow again, Sylus being the complete utter last person I wanted to hear from right now.

He chuckled over the line, “Actually, I think that might be the unhappiest I’ve heard you.”

“What do you want?”

“Can I not just call to talk? I’ve had a rough day and wanted to hear your voice.”

I let out a forced laugh, “You’ve had a rough day? YOU’VE had a rough day? You will not believe the day I had then.”

His voice softened, “Talk to me about it then.”

While I most definitely realized my day couldn’t be comparable to his, as he was essentially a mob boss running the N109 Zone, venting about my problems felt nice. As much as I couldn’t stand Sylus, with his incessant arrogance and backhanded flattery, he was easy to talk to sometimes.

Sometimes.

“I don’t even know how I got myself into this situation. Well, I do know, I just didn’t mean to!” I groaned, throwing my face into my hands.

He sits in silence for a minute, and I can hear the soft playing of one of his records in the background. It’s annoying how he feels the need to call and bother me, with a side of music, to wind down at night.

“When is it?” He finally asks, and I hear shuffling.

“Next Saturday, so…” I can practically see the clock ticking down, “Shit, a week from today.”

“What time?”

“9- Sylus, why?”

“I’ll be there at 8:30 then.” There’s mirth in his voice and my face goes pale, “Sylus, no, don’t you dare. It cannot be you, just let me borrow one of your men or something.”

Sylus lets out a low laugh, “Now why would I do that when I could just be your date?”

“Not date,” I cut him off, “fake boyfriend.”

“Of course, fake boyfriend.” He clucked his tongue, “Why would I let someone else be your fake boyfriend?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re the big bad Onychinus boss?” Pressing a finger to my temple to ease the headache that he was becoming, I started to pace my floor. “You’re stepping into enemy territory at this event, there’s no way I’ll be able to save your ass if you get found out, let alone what will happen to me and my place at the Association.”

“I’ve already met some of your coworkers before, remember? It’s best if it's me instead of some stranger, and trust me sweetie, they won’t know.”

My coworkers did take a liking to him when they met during one of our outings, Sylus just had this charisma about him that sucked everyone in; the mysterious fruit vendor Skye who was absolutely horrid at karaoke. He stole their hearts quickly, and I’m lucky if they don’t ask me at least once a week how he’s doing. Sylus was just magnetic like that, even if you tried your damndest to hate him, there’s just something about his demeanor that’s magic.

He has a point here, and it’s killing me to admit he’s right.

“Fine,” I snap, “but absolutely no funny business.”

“I’m not sure what you could possibly mean by that, Kitten.” Sylus lets out a low laugh that makes me want to punch my phone, “I’ll be there at 8:30.”

Before I can respond, he quickly hangs up. I’m left sitting on my bed with racing thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong. Was bringing Sylus really worth getting this creep off my back? Well, if there was anyone who could scare him off, it would be the leader of Onychinus. Worst case scenario, I have Sylus pull a gun out on him.

I shake my head, trying to clear my stupid thoughts.

I sent him a picture of the invitation, which included the dress code. I wasn’t too worried about him making a fool out of me, just the overwhelming anxiety of bringing a top criminal as my date to a work event where we quite literally are attempting to hunt this exact man down.

Trying to trust Sylus isn’t the easily discoverable type, I make a miserable attempt to put my mind to rest, and get some sleep.

-

The next week following my abrupt news of a boyfriend was hell. Not to my surprise, word was quickly spread through the Association, and I was constantly being flooded with questions and endless pressure to just ‘give them a name!’. I even had Xavier at my desk with questions one morning, and he was always the type to steer away from work related gossip.

Not to mention Sylus himself was being utterly insufferable. He was taking this far too seriously, sending lunch and flowers to my work with paper love notes attached. It was bringing on more attention at work, and every time I told him to stop, he’d just send more extravagant bouquets that cluttered my desk and made the surrounding area smell like a funeral.

At one point, I woke up to a box in the mail. Inside was a black velvet dress, a ruby necklace, and heels. Sending him an angry text about how I have my own clothes, he just responded by transferring 200 dollars into my bank account saying, ‘Get your nails done too. Match the outfit.’

By Saturday night, I was almost ready for everyone to meet Sylus, just so people would stop with the ‘fake boyfriend trivia’ while I’m on the clock, and his annoying attempts at romantic gestures.

The night of, at 8:30 on the dot, I heard a knock at my door.

On the other side was a well dressed Sylus; I think it was the first time I had ever seen him done up so nicely. He wasn’t ever one to slack on his looks, but in his black pinstripe suit and red tie that matched my gifted necklace, I had to take a second. Even though he made me constantly want to take my gun and replicate the time I shot him, I could never deny he’s hot. His arguably perfect looks just adds to the hatred.

He looked me up and down, smirking. The dress he had gotten me was backless and stopped at my ankles, with a slit up to my thigh that had me worried that with one wrong move I’d flash all my coworkers. Opening his mouth to I’m sure to make a snide comment, I cut him off.

“I have to put on my shoes and that necklace, but then I’m ready.” I walked over to the coffee table and grabbed the ruby piece that was gifted, struggling with the clasp thanks to the nails I was practically forced to get.

“Here.” Coming up behind me, Sylus took the necklace from my hands. Brushing my hair out of the way, I felt his fingers against my neck as he secured the jewelry with ease. I turned around to face him, and he smiled down at me.

He gestured to the couch, “Sit.”

His one word commands were starting to get on my nerves. “What?” I glared at him.

Grabbing my shoulder and softly pushing me back, I tumbled onto the couch. Sylus snickered, “I said sit, Kitten.”

Getting on his knees, he picked up my ankle, slipping the heel onto my foot.

“I could’ve done this myself.” Scoffing, I averted my eyes to anywhere that wasn’t Sylus on his knees in front of me.

“I’m sure you could with those nails, sweetie.” He hooked the straps around my ankle, and I felt my skin burn red where his fingers danced. It was definitely red with anger.

For sure.

Standing when he was done, Sylus reached a hand out to me. Narrowing my eyes at his hand, I ignored the help. To my dismay, I stood up too fast in heels and lost a bit of my balance. Sylus caught my waist and gave me a smug smile, pulling me into him. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight, my love.”

I grimaced, pulling away from his grasp and heading to the door. “Oh, do not do that. No more of that.”

“We have to get into character, I’m just being prepared.”

“Be in character when we’re there. Not here.”

“I have to get into the mindset.” Sylus creeped closer to me, and I stepped back. At this point, I was essentially pinned in between him and the door. “After all, I have to practice so I can impress everybody.” He leaned down, his breath fanning against the side of my neck.

“Right.” I rolled my eyes, opening the door behind me and taking a backwards step out. Sylus stumbled at the sudden movement, and I smirked at his loss of composure. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.”

-

When we arrived, I felt my heart begin to race. All the mental preparation I had done for this exact night fled my mind as soon as Sylus put the car into park. My worry was not of showing off my new fancy fake boyfriend, it was the fact that I was bringing my new fancy fake boyfriend into an arena that was hunting him. Over the past week I’ve tried telling myself he’s not easily discoverable, I mean, if he was, the Association would’ve had him tracked down by now. However, knowing my luck, I was preparing for the worst.

Sylus gently placed his hand on my thigh, attempting to give me a reassuring smile, “It’ll be okay, Kitten. Just follow my lead.”

We’re fucked.

He walked around, opening the door for me. His car was clearly the nicest and most expensive out of all the guests tonight, and I knew if anybody saw I’d never hear the end of it.

When we were nearing the entrance, I sighed, shoving down my pride and grabbing Sylus’ arm, wrapping myself sweetly around his bicep. I watched his lips curve upward into a smug smile, and I suppressed the urge to throw myself off and take my heel to his-

“Invitation please.” Sylus handed the men working the door the two slips of paper, and I begrudgingly walked in clinging to his arm.

‘Playing the character’, I thought.

The venue the Ball was being held at was extravagant, with a high, golden ceiling, and golden marble floors.

It was filled to the brim with people that worked for the Association, plus their guests. I winced at the sheer amount of people, automatically going into defense mode due to the overwhelming fact that we were outnumbered.

“Smile, sweetie.” Letting go of his arm, Sylus took his pointer finger and thumb, lightly pulling the corners of my mouth upward.

I nipped at his finger, and he poked my nose as a warning.

I heard someone shriek my name, and I whipped around to see Tara quickly approaching. “Oh wow, you’re beautiful!” She wrapped me up in a tight hug, rocking me side to side. Letting go of me just as fast, Tara gasped when she saw Sylus.

“Skye! Oh my gosh it’s you, how sweet!” She fawned over us, and he smiled kindly at her, “You look lovely tonight, Tara.” If he kept up the nice talk, I was going to put my head through one of the walls.

“Here, come with me. Some of us already have a table together!”

Tara dragged us over to a table where a few of my most nagging coworkers stood around talking. Introducing him to the ones who had never met him, I groaned internally, ready for the torment of questions to begin.

“So,” Tara dropped the first bomb, “how long have you two been a thing?” I know this has been weighing on her worse than me all week.

“About a month now.” Sylus answered with ease. I tried to suppress a shocked look on my face, because I was planning on doing all the talking; but that continued, them rapid firing questions and Sylus answering all of them as if he had this all thought out. I mean, shit, he was convincing me.

“I have to know how this happened!” One of them said, and Sylus tucked my hair behind my ear, pretending to recall the moment.

“I had feelings for her for a while,” He said, smiling down at me, “and it got to a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. It was spur of the moment, but I showed up at her door in the middle of the night and had to ask her if she felt the same.”

Damn. He was good.

All the girls squealed, “That's so romantic!”

I placed my hand on Sylus’ chest, batting my eyelashes up at him, “I’m gonna go get a drink, d’you want anything?” He grabbed my hand, matching my energy, and kissing my knuckles, “No, sweetie, that’s quite alright. I’ll stay here and entertain your friends.”

All of them cooed at the sight, probably thinking we were so lovesick for each other it hurt. Well, it did hurt, this whole thing was a pain in my ass I needed to be over.

I grabbed a glass of wine from the drink table, the group out of sight. Sighing, I resisted the urge to down the glass all at once. While I was uncomfortable, I couldn’t deny everything was going well. Everyone was pleased, so I tried to relax.

“That's a pretty necklace,” I heard from behind me, “is it new?”

Nevermind.

Turning around, there stood Nicholas. His eyelids drooped, and he reeked of wine.

“What did you say?” I asked, looking around for the quickest exit route.

“I said I liked your necklace. Is it new?”

God, does this twerp have any other material?

“Yes, it is.” A low voice said, and I felt an arm wrap around my waist. My head shot up to meet Sylus in the eyes; I guess my face was screaming, ‘Help me!’, because he gave my side a soft squeeze of reassurance.

“Oh.” Was all Nicholas replied, shooting his eyes back and forth between Sylus and I. In his head, I imagined the pieces clicking together. ‘This is it,’ I thought, ‘finally he’ll leave me alone!’

“This song is nice… Would you care to dance?” There were no thoughts behind his eyes. This guy was genuinely dense. I could’ve sworn my jaw dropped at his stupidity, and Sylus chuckled next to me.

“So sorry, but tonight she’s mine.” Swiftly sweeping me away, Nicholas and my glass of wine were quickly left behind.

“Why don’t you dance with me instead, sweetie?” Sylus said, leading me to the open floor where people were dancing to the soft classical music.

Sylus put my hand on his shoulder, intertwining my other hand with his. Placing his hand on my lower back, he pulled me in closer to him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes stared into mine, and there was something behind them I couldn’t quite place my finger on. We started slowly ballroom dancing in our own little spot on the floor, a bit away from everyone else. As much as I wanted to strangle this man, I could relax a little in his arms. He just felt safe sometimes.

Sometimes.

“You’re doing good tonight.” Sylus said, still looking into my eyes.

“Thanks.” I started playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, “So where do we go from here?”

He raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think I do, Kitten.”

“How am I going to tell my coworkers that we ‘broke up’ right after this? They’ll be suspicious.”

“We could keep doing this for a while.” Sylus shrugged, smirking.

Groaning, I slammed my head on his shoulder, “Tonight was bad enough, I can’t do this for any longer.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

He was right. I didn’t have a better idea.

-

So we did just that.

I was going to give it two months. Then, it would say we were together for three months total, which looked like a completely reasonable time to test run a relationship and then call it quits.

At first, I was completely miserable. I already couldn’t stand Sylus as a friend, how could I stand him as my ‘boyfriend’? After that night at the Ball, to my dismay, he completely won everybody over. It made me feel like I had to put more effort into faking all of this.

The extravagant gifts sent to my work started getting sent to my place too. I told him he didn’t have to send them to me outside of work, let alone at all, but he always insisted so he could “stay in character”.

Whether it was convincing me to let him take me out to fancy places, like dinner or a show, it was always just to keep him ‘in character’. I think he just liked using that excuse so I would be forced to hang out with him and not be able to deny or complain about it.

Though, after a bit, it became easy to slip into a groove.

I started to not mind the talk about Sylus; everything started to become bearable, and dare I say it, kind of fun.

We had played with the claw machines once, and he won a white cat plushie. Jokingly, I had told him it looks exactly like him, and snapped a picture of the cat next to his face to prove a point.

I made that photo my wallpaper, to make things more realistic. It freaked me out for a while whenever I’d open my phone, but I came to like it after a while. Sylus looked kind of cute in the photo, his expression mocking the plushies. He looked kind, warm, a soft look on his face you didn’t see on him often. The more I saw the photo, the more it made me smile.

I began looking forward to his calls, his texts. He’d call me to say good morning, or tell me goodnight, even if he was in the middle of a meeting. The ‘fake dates’ became less uncomfortable as I grew more accustomed to the situation we had put ourselves into. The roles we were playing came easier and easier with time.

Which was causing a problem.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way my body would flush when he touched me, or how my once strong demeanor around him would start to falter. Words and actions of his that would be fast to anger me, quickly changed into something else.

I was starting to care about him. How annoying.

There was one day when Sylus decided he was going to pick me up from work. “Your coworkers will think it's cute.” He had said, and who was I to deny a free ride home.

He showed up on his bike in his leather jacket, in all his badass glory. Leaning against the bike, he stood up straight and smiled at me when I came outside. As time had gone on, Sylus was slowly becoming less hard and uncaring towards me. He began treating me like I was fragile, always so gentle with me. Him getting into character I suppose.

Sylus held his hand out towards me, and when I took it, he pulled me into his chest. I squealed, laughing at the sudden gesture.

“They’re looking,” He said, glancing at a few of my coworkers still inside, watching us intensely, “Kiss me.”

I choked, “What?”

He grabbed my chin, tilting it up slightly. He cocked his head to the side a bit, almost as if to ask, ‘is this okay?’.

Nodding my head yes, Sylus smirked before leaning down and pressing his lips against mine. For how aggressive he can be as the leader of Onychinus, the kiss was unusually soft. I had imagined kissing him, for all of this, and I never expected him to be the type to be so kind and gentle.

My blood was rushing in my ears and I thought I was going to melt under his hands. I didn’t realize just how bad I subconsciously wanted this until it was happening, and I wanted more. I wanted to kiss him so hard I could steal the air from his lungs, I wanted to grip his shirt so tightly my knuckles turned white because I could finally have him.

When he pulled away, and kissed the corner of my eye, I knew I was fucked.

I didn’t just care about him, I wanted him. I wanted Sylus to be mine, I wanted this to be real, I wanted-

No, I couldn’t want anything.

It would never work. Our lives were too different, we were too different, everything would be doomed from the start. He was a faraway dream that would never come true. He could never be what I wanted.

I always wanted security, someone stable and safe. Sylus could never give me that.

So why do I want him so badly?

-

It was my friend's birthday party.

I had invited Sylus, because what had originally been a fake relationship to get a creep coworker off my back, spread like a wildfire to a fake relationship that was now known by all my friends.

I only invited him because I knew it would be strange if I showed up without him.

After he kissed me, and my feelings became a living hell to deal with, I started to pull back; started to psych myself out mentally, constantly spending time just trying to convince myself how bad we would be for each other. Trying to will myself to hate him again, go back to where I was two months ago. When Sylus was a nuisance, an annoying pest.

I don’t even really think he noticed. Or if he did, I couldn’t tell.

When we got to the party, the music and laughter could be heard from outside, a drastic change from the almost silent car ride. Sylus tried to make conversation, and I shut him down almost every time.

We walked in, and my friends all greeted him with easy familiarity. They gave him hugs, pats on the back, and he was welcomed effortlessly.

I stood a distance away as he laughed with my friends, and my chest began to hurt. Guilt, dread, I felt doomed. He wasn’t meant to be here, he was never meant to be here. Sylus doesn’t belong with my friends. Sylus doesn’t belong with me.

None of this is real. All of this is one little lie that spun into a web of something so much bigger, and I’m stuck in it.

He looks happy with them, happy with my friends. Happy in my space, with my people. How could he? He’s an intruder, he knows it.

I knew tonight was the night I was done. This couldn’t go on any longer. No more playing house with Sylus, no more pretending. We’re adults, and this whole thing was so childish, and it ends now.

I stepped outside, sitting on the back patio. The night air was cold, and I wasn’t sure if it was the sharp air of my distress that was making my lungs constrict.

“There you are.”

I didn’t turn around to meet the voice, just kept staring into the trees ahead.

Sylus stood beside me, running his fingers through the top of my hair. I relished the feeling, ‘one last time, it’s okay’.

He didn’t ask any questions, didn’t ask why I was out here, if I was okay. I was happy for that, it could give me another reason to be mad at him. To hate him again. To try and rile up all my old feelings, stir old bitterness.

“I want to go home.” I finally said, breaking the silence.

We got in the car, this time he didn’t try to speak. His face was hard again, the soft look long gone. I think, in a way, he knew too. He knows this is for the better.

I said goodbye, told him goodnight before he left. Told him to drive safely.

It had been two months, that’s what I gave him. It was time for it to be over anyways. I changed my wallpaper, changed his name back. I didn’t care if I had to deal with Nicholas at my job anymore, anything was better than the gutted feeling I got from every interaction with Sylus. Nothing was worth that.

The next day, it was radio silence. For the first time in two months, there was nothing. No good morning, no texts throughout the day, no calls to tell me goodnight; and that just continued. For days. Silence.

I had perfected the speech I was going to tell my coworkers, “We gave it our best, but it just wasn’t going to work out between us.” It was reassurance for them, and myself.

It just wasn’t going to work out between us.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 25

masterpost

Despite the chill in the air, it was a lovely day to be outside. The sun was warm, the ground had dried out after a few days of rain, and the trees were in full color. Danny threw the ball again for Ursa, using the odd launching stick that Dick had gotten for them. It was appreciated, really. Ursa could run and Danny couldn’t throw the ball nearly as far as she wanted by hand.

Ursa raced back with the ball, just a cloud of black fur, and darted right past Danny. Danny spun around quickly, not wanting Ursa to jump on Alfred again (they were working on it), and almost swallowed his tongue.

“Ursa! Gentle, girl! Be gentle!” Danny called out as he took off after her.

Luckily, Ursa listened and planted her fluffy butt on the ground even if she was still wiggling around excitedly.

“Hi there, Ursa, it’s nice to meet you,” Babs said with a soft smile as she held out her hand to be sniffed.

Ursa dropped the ball in the offered hand with a quiet woof and a large grin. Luckily Babs didn’t seem to mind the sudden, slobbery present and threw the ball like Ursa wanted. Ursa was off after it like a bolt.

“Sorry about her,” Danny said as he scratched at the back of her neck. “Play time means fetch right now. She’s pretty determined about these things.”

“That’s okay,” Babs said as she wiped off her hand on her jeans. “She seems like a real sweat dog.”

“She is. It’s been really good to have her.” Danny didn’t even try to hide how found he sounded. He kept his eyes on Ursa, not able to look at Babs as he asked. “Did you… did you find anything?”

“I did.” Babs’ voice was gentle. “Do you want to know now?”

“I— yes, but no? I think this will… I guess… I don’t want to hear this alone, but I think that means I’ll need to explain everything.”

Ursa dropped her ball and came over to Danny where she pressed herself firmly against his leg. Danny buried a hand in her soft fur.

“They’ll all wait however long you need them to,” Babs said.

“I know. But I think… I think I do need to tell them, if I want to get better, and I want to get better.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure the family is on the way for dinner tonight and we can talk once they get here,” Babs said with that carefully gentle sort of voice that Danny always hated a little. Jazz used to do that too. “In the mean time, I’d love to get to know Ursa more.”

Danny cleared his throat. “So, I guess it’s obvious that she really likes fetch…”

-

Dick helped Babs settle onto the sofa. She didn’t need the help, not really, but the easy back and forth of movement was just natural for them, even after all of these years. It also gave him someone to fuss over that wasn’t Danny. What he wanted to do was scoop Danny up into a hug and never let him go. Dick figured that would be a bit too stifling though. Instead, Dick made sure that Babs had her laptop while the rest of the room got settled.

Danny chose the floor, apparently. He leaned back against Jason’s legs while Tim was pressed on the other side with Steph crammed next to him. Damian was on the floor next to Danny. The two were oddly hard to separate. Ursa had draped herself across both their laps; Danny dug his fingers into her mane. He didn’t look up at the rest of the room, even as Cass sat on the arm of the couch.

They hadn’t been told much about why they were there, a fact that ate at Bruce, but he worked to let that go. Danny had asked them to be there and to the one, they had shown up. Alfred was passing around hot chocolate with Duke’s help. The inclination that the comforting drink would be needed was probably right, as much as Dick hated that. He took his own mug and clung to it like a lifeline.

“The other night,” Babs started, “Danny asked me to look into someone for him, a Jasmine Fenton.”

On the television, a picture of redheaded girl appeared. The person who’s hair Babs had reminded Danny of, Dick realized. It looked like a school photo: mediocre studio lighting, bland background, a forced smile. She was late teens with a scatter of freckles and bright blue eyes.

“Jasmine Fenton, age nineteen, is currently enrolled at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville, where her permanent residence is.”

“Arkansas?” Danny asked quietly.

Babs nodded. “She’s been in the state since she entered the custody of Alica Bayard, Jasmine’s aunt from her mother’s side, almost two years ago.”

Danny sagged forward, burring his face into Ursa’s mane. “Oh thank god.”

“Why did her aunt receive custody?” Bruce asked when none of the rest of them seemed able to.

The steadying breath that Babs had to take wasn’t reassuring. “Jasmine was removed from her parent’s custody after the living conditions were found unsafe. This was part of an investigation into the disappearance of her brother, Daniel Fenton.”

A familiar face joined Jasmine’s on the screen. It was the same, awkward sort of school photo and Danny looked even more uncomfortable in it. His hair was shorter, his eyes bluer, and there were none of the scars. This was Danny before everything went wrong.

“The parents, doctors Jackson and Madison Fenton, were never charged with anything relating to the disappearance. They moved away from Amity Park four months later, likely due to increasing hostility from the town.”

“They weren’t dumb enough to keep me in the house,” Danny said. His words were somehow loud in the room despite being muffled by Ursa’s fur. He gave a mirthless chuckle. “You know, I used to think they were … not dumb, but clueless, you know? That they were science smart and low in everything else. The hapless, accidentally mad scientists. And then… and then I find out how much they had planned. That all of me was planned… I don’t know if anything about them was real.”

Damian leaned over to press against Danny’s side, offering his silent support. Dick was proud of how good a brother Damian was to Danny. It was a small silver lining in all of this. Danny slumped against him.

Danny’s eyes flicked back up to the screen and his sister’s face. He glanced away a long moment later. “Is there… are there any picture of the lab from the report that you can put up?”

Of course Babs had the photos and soon they were cycling through on the screen.

Mad scientists was right. The place looked distinctly science fiction, full of every day objects and tools that should be recognizable but where three steps away from reality. Everything was gleaming metal accented with a toxic green.

“My… they… the Fentons are ecto-biologists,” Danny explained as the rest of the room cataloged the details in the pictures.

“Ghost biologists?” Tim asked with furrowed brows.

“Yeah. Not that they ever met the ethics that biologists go by. But they didn’t think ghosts were sentient let alone sapient, so I don’t know why they even called themselves that. They didn’t… the screams means it’s working,” Danny said, choking on something between a laugh and a sob.

Jason cursed, the words a low rumble of anger that echoed through the rest of the room.

Dick had to get up and pace.

He brushed his fingers lightly over his family as he moved through the room, assuring himself they were all there and alright. Bruce caught his fingers and squeezed. Dick huffed, but settled lightly on the arm of Bruce’s chair.

“There’s a lot I didn’t really think about as a kid,” Danny said, once the room had settled again. “I should have. But they were—I thought they were my parents. I thought they knew best. When I started to really pay attention… we didn’t see eye to eye pretty quickly, but I thought they were just misguided, you know? I thought that maybe, eventually, I could talk to them about all the things that I’d learned and show them that they were wrong. But I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, sweetheart?” Bruce asked.

“That I was never their son. I was just a lab rat.”

“Danny,” Cass called softly.

Danny shook his head. “It’s true! They even said it: ‘you can love the test monkey, Danny, but you can’t let that get in the way of the experiment’. Apparently I was an easy monkey to care for. Not too demanding. Easy enough for them to just add to the effort they already put towards Jazz, their real kid. Easy enough to ignore when they wanted. For me it was all just… normal. Just how I grew up.”

Tim bumped Danny with his leg. “Don’t worry, Steph and I will teach you how to annoy everyone in this family so that they can’t ignore you.”

The little snort of laughter Danny made seemed to surprise even him.

“Not that we would want to ignore you anyways, Dandelion,” Jason said. “We’re not perfect, but we’re family. Real family.”

Danny leaned back against Jason’s legs, a faint smile on his lips. Dick felt something in himself unwind at the sight. Jason was right, they were far from perfect, but they were family and they would be there for Danny always. It would talk time, a lot of time, but Danny would be alright. And all along healing he’d be loved.

Bab’s caught Dick’s eye. She clearly had more to tell, but Dick shook his head slightly. Give everyone a moment. Let everyone process and drink their hot chocolate and eat some of the cookies that Alfred brought with his impeccable timing. When everything was calmer and the cookies almost gone, Dick got up and returned to his seat by Babs. He touched her wrist gently. It was as good as time as any.

“So I’ve figured out when the Fentons visited Gotham,” Babs said. An old, poor quality image of a convention banner popped up on the television. It was for alternative energies. Next to it was a list of booths, the Fenton’s ‘Ectoplasm Energy’ booth highlighted. “But what I don’t understand is why they chose to clone Bruce. They never tried to use it as a claim for child support or any of the obvious reasons someone would clone a Wayne for.”

“I, um, never knew the when,” Danny said, squinting at the images. “I didn’t… I didn’t even find out the who until I was escaping. It was stupid to stop and look, they could have come back at any moment, but I had to know, you know? But I know the why. Bruce registers as a liminal. I would bet all of you do except for Steph and maybe Alfred. Well, Jason is more like me and Dami is something other, something more. Duke’s totally different.”

Bruce leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Liminal.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. It can—like, it’s not the best term, really, because it can mean a lot. A lot of exposure to death, exposure to death at key moments, being somewhere liminal for a really long time, or longterm exposure to ectoplasm can cause it.”

“Is it dangerous?” Tim asked, mouth twisted in a curious frown.

“No,” Danny said quickly. “Think of it sorta like a meta gene? Some people are more susceptible to being liminal and liminals, if exposed to the right… incentives, can develop… not powers but kinda? Or, if things go really wrong, can turn into a halfa.

“My—the Fentons are really immune to being liminal, they learned that in college when their lab partner got really sick and then later turned into a halfa. I dodn’t know if… I don’t know if they would have tried to use Jazz like that did me if not. I don’t think so but… well, they didn’t have to worry about her when they exposed me to all sorts of stuff around the house growing up.”

“They chose to clone me simply because I was a liminal?” Bruce asked. He sounded befuddled.

To be fair, it was like the weirdest reason ever to clone Bruce Wayne and Batman.

“Yeah. A strong one,” Danny said. “Gotham itself is pretty liminal and you’re, you know, both her knight and her prince. I think you were sort of like the perfect choice for them to pick. I guess you went to the convention. They had you handle a device, it nicked you enough for them to get blood. They, um, would have played it off. Like they bragged, everyone always just thought D…Jack was just a bumbling fool. It let him get away with a lot.”

“They snagged Bruce’s blood and cloned you to just, what, have their own liminal?” Steph asked. Her nose scrunched up at the whole idea of it.

“Yeah. Apparently they tracking how much I was exposed to and what my levels where. I didn’t… I never noticed. It was just growing up. My, they always did my check ups. Experiments were left everywhere. I cleaned the lab. Sometimes hot dogs came back to life and attacked.”

“What?!” Duke squawked.

“One more reason to be vegetarian,” Damian tsked.

Danny just shrugged. “It was just life. But, um, I didn’t really get any powers or anything so they pushed things. They set it up for me to die and be exposed to a huge amount of ectoplasm at the same time.”

Dick stilled. “It was planned?”

“What?”

“You said they killed you, but it… that was planned. Killing you was planned?”

“Oh, yeah,” Danny said softly. “Like, I thought it was an accident, just being a stupid teen and not being safe enough around big science experiments. My friend just wanted a picture of me in the portal. It turned on and—”

Danny trailed off, fingers tight in Ursa’s fur.

“And halfa.” Cass said.

“And halfa,” Danny agreed. “Which I guess was the best outcome. I could have just died and been a ghost. It was proof that someone liminal enough could be dead and not at the same time. My, um, my friend Sam said I was responsible to fight the ghosts that the portal accident let out. It was just another way to test my powers and see how they grew. Not that, it wasn’t Sam testing me, but the Fentons would let ghosts ‘escape’ and I would fight them and get new skills.”

“You were a hero, Master Danny?” Alfred asked with a purposeful look to Bruce.

Bruce had the good graces to look a little chagrined. “It just seems part of the make up at this point?”

Danny smiled a little. “I guess. I went by Phantom. The city didn’t always like me, the ghosts could cause a lot of damage, but nothing ever got too bad. I really thought I was doing something important.”

“You were,” Tim insisted. “Even if the Fentons were the real villain behind it all, you still dealt with the threats that you knew about.”

“…I guess?” Danny agreed doubtfully. “I don’t know if it matters when they just were waiting for my powers to stagnate. Apparently they had pressure from the group that was funding them, the GWI, for results so they moved up their time line. I went to sleep and woke up in a box in a GIW lab. Then I was just a lab rat. I was just something to experiment on and cut into and—and—”

Dick moved to the floor and Danny’s side, pulling his newest little brother into a tight hug. “Don’t. You don’t have to think about that anymore.”

They had seen the scars.

They knew the sort of things that Danny had been through.

That those monsters had done.

Danny didn’t need to relive any of it just to try and explain things to them. Part of Dick wanted to protect his other siblings from having to be exposed to those horrors too, even with everything else they had been through. Danny sniffled wetly and buried his face into Dick’s shoulder. Hitched sobs wracked his body. Ursa huffed and tried to lick Danny’s chin. Damian leaned closer.

Dick looked up at Jason who was already watching Dick with a question in his gaze. Jason didn’t listen to anyone, not really, but this was a family mater and Dick was the oldest child. It was his call. Dick didn’t even hesitate to nod.

Jason looked viciously pleased.

Jason and Tim could handle the Fentons. The Titans would see to the GWI. The Justice League could deal with any fallout. The family would protect their own.

Dick pulled Danny closer as he let him cry.

---

AN: *lies down dead like Danny* this chapter was exhausting to write. I hope you all like it and it feels full.

[district4loading]

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

-

Maybe hypnosis is real

-

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

-

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl" 

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt. 

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it" 

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply.  Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

[songbirdmunson]

Vιԃҽσ Gαɱҽʂ

eddie munson x afab!reader

based off this little idea I had

• wordcount: 1.1K

18+ only or I will break your knees (lovingly) explicit content ahead, if you don’t wish to see don’t read! Steve Harrington is mentioned more than once. voyeurism sex with Eddie. enjoy!

“Can you even hear a word I’m saying right now?” Your boyfriend's silence answers the question for you as you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. You are all for him getting some time to unwind but lately he’s been glued to his Xbox, playing some new game with Steve that you couldn’t care to remember the name of. He’s oblivious to your frustration as he chats away with Steve, only pausing to take a sip of the Mountain Dew he keeps in his chalice on his desk.

You walk over slowly behind him, looking at the screen as he and Steve fight off zombies, any other day you’d let him play and you’d go do your thing. Today, you wanted attention, and you were going to get it, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. “Eddie baby?” You whisper, leaning down where your head is next to his, you can hear Steve on the other end cackling about something. You poke your boyfriend in the side but he just shoos you off, not even turning to look at you.

‘He’s turning into an addict.’ You think to yourself as you finally walk yourself around his chair, stopping right in front of him. “Hey!! What are you doing babe?!” He all but shrieks out as you look down at him, smirking evilly. “Getting what I deserve Eddie.” You mumble, running your finger down the side of his face as he lets out a complaint about how you just made him die, poor thing. That will be the farthest thought in his mind in a few seconds.

Your fingers fumble with his belt, pulling it through the loops before you’re throwing it behind you. Eddie looks down at you, his eyebrows shooting up underneath his bangs. “Babe… oh Jesus Christ.” He moans out as you kiss the tip of his cock through his boxers, your fingers grip deliciously into the meat of his thighs as he rips his headset off, slamming it down onto his desk so hard you don’t know how it didn’t break.

“You wanted my attention, hmm? Little brat couldn’t even make it an hour without needing me down their throat, that’s kinda gross baby.” He growls out, his thick fingers winding their way into your hair as he pulls you down closer to where he needs you the most. You go brainless as you pull his dick out of his pants slowly, it’s so pretty, his piercing shimmering on top only makes it better. You spit onto your hand slowly before wrapping it back around the base, twisting slowly before you begin to move it up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“You’d rather pay attention to zombies than this baby? Are you crazy?” You ask, pouting up at him as he leans his head back, a loud moan slips its way past his beautiful lips. Nobody is thinking about poor Steve on the other end of the headset, his face is beet red and his pants tight, but that would be a worry for later. “N-No, fuck, would much rather watch you use that sinful mouth of yours baby, all day.” He chokes out, the air leaving his body almost completely as you spit down onto the head, you smile up at him one more time before you dive down like you’re starved and his dick is the best meal on earth.

Shuffling forward you go down as far as you can, choking slightly as Eddie lets out another beautiful noise. You had him exactly how you wanted, he’s like putty as he sinks down into his chair. His hips are soon bucking against your face, incoherent mumbling and praises are tumbling out of his mouth as the coarse hair beneath his cock scratches against your face. It’s all thrilling, the smell of him, how he tastes, the realization that Steve and any of his other friends that are playing with him can hear you pleasuring him right now. It almost has you wanting to cum in your jeans.

You pop off only for a second, catching some air as you lick your lips slowly. “Want me to ride you in your little gaming chair?” You tease mockingly as he nods, his hair is everywhere, tangled up from where he’s been pulling on it, slightly sticking to his face from the sweat beads that are rolling down his forehead. You know they would taste delicious too, everything about Eddie does. You waste no time as soon as he gives you the go to get on him you’re pushing your pants down to your knees, your underwear are only pulled to the side as you turn around facing away from him.

Just having him in your mouth already has you wet enough that you don’t need to prep, you turn your head around over your shoulder, smiling at him wickedly before you sink down onto him. You bite back a moan as his dick stretches you out, you and Eddie had done this so many times but you’d honestly never get used to how thick he is. It’s absolutely perfect, every ridge of the veins rubbing against you in the right way, every time you go back down the head rubs against the spot that has your legs turning into jelly. “Please baby… think I’m gonna cum.. fuck!” His big hands are holding onto your hips loosely, you know his brain is so pussy whipped he can't even think straight right now.

“Next time you even think about ignoring me for your little zombies I want you to remember this baby, you understand?” You scold him, grinding your hips in a circle as you feel him shaking beneath you. “Y-yes! Yes! Promise I’ll remember, I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry please baby right there oh my fucking go-od.” This man is down bad, you laugh a little as you lift up and down only a few more times before he breaks, you keep yourself still, feeling his cock twitching inside you as he lets out profanities that you weren’t even sure existed. “Fuck… such a good boy, filling me up. I’m so proud of you.” You coo, lifting yourself up slowly, his softening dick falling out of you, you can feel his cum leaking out and sticking to your thighs.

You lean back against Eddie, smiling before turning his face to kiss him a few times. “That was better than any of your games.” You say confidently, grabbing his headset and slipping it on. “Hey Steve, he’s all yours now hun, have fun killing Zombies.” You say, laughing wildly as Eddie’s face heats up. Steve cums in his pants that day, and he’s not even ashamed.

taglist ahead, thanks for reading! 💗

@loserboysandlithium @runningupthatvecna @wolfqueenxxx @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @magicalmysterytour13 @woahlifehitsyahuh @hellfiremunsonn @eddiemunsonfuxks @ali-r3n @guiltyasquinn @beep-beep-sherlock @barnes-bestgirl @edsstrawberryjam @micromoose @3rd-conchord @mamakitty187 @comeonatmebruh @bcmbiquinn @seatnights @scorpiosapphire @berilynzoe @floredaqueen @melodymunson @rafescorpsebride @bloodibambiidoll @gri959 @munsongirly @londonfog-chan @quinnyficsy @hauntedfawnn

[tobesolonely]

untitled angsty but then sweet piece...

hello guys!! it's been like over a year lol. I was going through my google doc and found this and I feel like I never posted it? so now I am posting it. maybe this can be a part 1 but also we know I'm great at starting multipart stories and not finishing them so lets see

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

warnings: none (~1.2k words)

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“You're just gonna ignore me then, babe?”

Y/N continues silently puttering around in the kitchen, going out of her way to make sure her back remained turned on Harry. There weren't many ways to get under his skin, but throughout her years of being with him she learned that being on the receiving end of the silent treatment usually made him fold pretty quickly. She was annoyed with her husband and the fact that he seemed clueless as to why made her even more upset.  

“I take your silence as a yes?” 

More puttering. More re-wiping the already clean counters. Starting the tea kettle. Washing her hands. Anything to not acknowledge Harry, really.

“I can’t make it better if you don't tell me why you're so upset, love,” he takes a tentative step toward her. “I know we've been together for ages but I still can't read your mind. Think ‘m gettin’ real close, though.”

This is said jokingly, and she knows her husband is just trying to dissipate the tension that's thick in their kitchen, making the spacious room seem impossibly small. She doesn't acknowledge his joke, doesn't crack a smile because that would give him too much satisfaction. Nothing made Harry cockier than being the reason for Y/N’s laugh, a sound so sweet she’s pretty sure he’d forbid everyone on the planet except him from listening to it because he wanted it all to himself. He always told her it was music to his ears.

The fact that he doesn't even know what he did is what finally causes her to break, muttering about how fucking ridiculous he is under her breath. It's not lost on Harry. 

“Now you've moved on from ignoring me to cursing at me?” he sounds more curious than upset, taking another step toward her. She backs away, defensively crossing her arms over her chest and she doesn't miss the way Harry’s brow furrows at the action. “Can y’please tell me what I did, Y/N? Please?” When she looks down at the ground, ignoring his please, he begs some more. He’s not above groveling, really. 

“Please, angel? Lemme fix it,” his eyes are wide and wild as he wildly searches hers for some clue as to what he did wrong. “Tell me-”

“Am I always just gonna come second with you?” 

She can almost see the wheels in her husband’s head turning, knows he's choosing his words carefully before he speaks so as not to upset her any further. 

“Okay, love,” he runs a ringer hand through his hair. “Can you be a little bit more specific?”

“We had plans this afternoon, Harry. We were gonna try that new café that just opened. I was looking forward to it,” she doesn't care if this makes her sound selfish and childish. “I know you were working and I know you how much you love to do that, but sometimes I feel like-”

“Don’t even finish that thought,”  Harry cuts her off and his tone is sharp, calloused. “That’s not true.”

“You know, at first I was worried something happened when you didn't show,” Y/N continues like she didn't hear him. “But then I realized nope, you probably just forgot or couldn't get out of another meeting. Just like always.”

A look of sadness flashes across Harry’s face, which quickly transforms to indignant anger. “Don't throw this in my face, Y/N. You know how much I hate that.” 

“So I’m supposed to be mindful of the things you hate, but you can't be mindful of the things I hate?”

“You don't get it,” he mumbles under his breath, growing increasingly done with the conversation the longer it drags on. “You're not in the industry. I can't just always leave-” 

“Then blame it on me! Make me the bad guy, Harry,” she finally turns all the way around to face him completely. “The people you work with get to see you more than I do…the fans…” Y/N trails off, letting her unfinished thoughts hang limply in the air. 

It’s quiet between the couple for no more than thirty seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. Harry breaks it first - he always does. He inhaled a deep shaky breath, trying to call forward the breathing techniques his therapist taught him to use in high-stress situations. Right now counts as a high-stress situation. 

“You’re right, angel,” the pet name slips off his tongue easily which comforts Y/N. Harry’s not as upset as she thought he was. He’s still her Harry. “That’s not fair of me, is it?”

All Y/N can do is shake her head, lower lip jutted out. She knows if she tries speaking she’ll start crying, and she doesn't want to cry. All she wants is for Harry to understand. Harry however, knows her too well. He knows the look she gets on her face when she's trying really hard not to cry and he knows she goes silent because she doesn't trust her voice not to come out shakey. He decides to continue talking.

“I should've called you and let you know I’d be late- or told you we needed to reschedule. I’m sorry I left you hanging, darling.” He pauses, selecting his next words very wisely. Harry knows his wife is sensitive. The last thing he wants is for her to think he's blaming her for anything. “...but it seems like this is about more than me missing our lunch. Which, again, I'm very sorry about. I'm taking you wherever you want for dinner tonight and I'll make you dessert when we get home. Let's talk more about this though, yeah?”

“You also have to be in charge of picking up after Hershey for a month,” Y/N responds with a small smile on her face. Hershey was the couple’s tiny brown poodle who was the cutest puppy in the world. “Thank you.”

“Mmm,” Harry hums, knowing his wife was trying to keep the conversation lighthearted since she hated confrontation. Since being with Harry her communication skills have improved tremendously since he was so good at it and wanted to talk about everything, but healthy communication clearly still didn't come as easily to her. “Talk to me, angel. What’s this about?”

Harry’s in front of her now, arms wrapped limply around her waist. He walks her backward until the small of her back hits the counter then he tells her to, “jump” so he can lift her onto the counter. Once she's situated he settles himself in between her legs and places his arms back on their place on her waist. Harry looks intently into Y/N’s eyes and she knows she won’t be leaving that spot until she tells him what's bothering her, so she just says it.

“I want a baby.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows in quick surprise before breaking out in a wide grin- the kind that causes his nose to scrunch up and wrinkles to form around his eyes. 

“You want a baby? W’ me?”

Y/N doesn’t return his smile, which quickly makes Harry’s turn into a frown.

“Why don’t you look happy?”

Y/N sighs, her eyes avoiding Harry’s. He gently places his index finger under her chin and pushes it up, forcing her to look into his eyes. He’s desperately searching his wife’s eyes, trying to figure out why she isn’t more excited about coming to this big decision. Harry has been ready for years of course, but he never wanted her to feel pressured.

“You’re never here, Harry. I don’t want to feel like a single mom.” Y/N looks down again and Harry doesn’t lift her chin back up this time. In fact, he doesn’t say anything. It’s silent for what feels like a couple minutes but is actually maybe only twenty seconds, the faucet leaking being the only sound heard throughout the whole house.

“Y/N…love,” Harry inhales a shaky breath, removing one of his hands from her hip to run his fingers through his curls. “I never want to make you feel like you’re alone. Not just with this, but…with anything.” Harry gently knuckles away a stray tear falling down Y/N’s cheek. 

“I know you don’t mean to make me feel this way, H. I guess it’s just what I signed up for when I married a popstar, yeah?” Harry can tell Y/N is trying to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t like that he’s the reason for he feeling this way.

“You didn’t “sign up” for anything, love. I’m your husband and you’re my wife and we’re supposed to be there for each other through it all, good and bad.” Y/N opens her mouth to say something but Harry gently pinches her hip, muttering for her to let him finish. “I want a baby with you. I want everything with you, Y/N. I want to be here for everything. I’m going to be better about being here.”

“H…I love you and I know you’ll try, but you’ve said this before-”

“I’ll take a break, babe. Cancel everything,” Harry’s talking faster now, excitement about his plan evident in his voice. “We’ll focus on ourselves and start our family. Go out of the country and leave my bloody phone here, if you’d like.” Y/N giggles at that, which makes Harry give her a big, dimpled grin.

“Will it be okay? With Jeff and everyone?” Although Y/N’s sure people on Harry’s team won’t be happy with his sudden change in plans, she can’t deny how charming the idea sounds. She could already picture them at their favorite villa in Italy, the one Harry purchased as a wedding gift to her and where they spent their unforgettable honeymoon. In all honesty, she’s surprised they didn’t get a baby out of that trip.

“Let me worry about that. You just worry about buying yourself some new bikinis, yeah?” Harry places a lingering kiss to Y/N’s jawbone. “Perhaps a few things for me to rip off you too, hmm?”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

hooray for happy endings :')

[elryuse]

Yandere Chaebol Irene x Single dad

Dangerous Choices

Yandere Chaebol Irene X Single Dad Male Reader

The warmth of You-mi’s laughter filled the small apartment as you watched her chase a toy car across the floor. Despite the struggles of being a single dad, moments like these made it all worthwhile. It had been nearly a year since your wife passed away, leaving you to balance grief with the responsibility of raising a bright, energetic four-year-old. The bills were piling up, and your part-time job wasn’t enough anymore. You needed something stable, something that could provide a better future for your daughter.

“Daddy, look!” You-mi beamed, holding up the toy car as though it were a trophy. “It’s so fast!”

You forced a smile. “It sure is, sweetheart. But guess what? Daddy’s got an interview today.”

Her face lit up. “Does that mean we can get ice cream after?”

“If I get the job, we’ll get all the ice cream you want,” you promised, ruffling her hair.

You left the apartment with her laughter echoing in your ears, carrying that small spark of hope with you.

The company building was massive, with glass panels that reflected the morning sun and an air of intimidating sophistication. You adjusted your tie nervously, trying to calm your racing heart. Inside, the receptionist directed you to the top floor for your interview.

When you entered the room, she was there.

Sitting behind an immaculate glass desk was the most striking woman you’d ever seen. Her features were delicate yet sharp, her long black hair cascading like silk. Her tailored suit hugged her figure perfectly, exuding both elegance and authority. Her gaze was cold, analytical, as if she could see through every layer of your soul.

“Take a seat,” she said, her voice smooth but devoid of warmth.

You sat down, feeling like you were being scrutinized under a microscope.

“Your resume is... underwhelming,” she began, her tone curt. “What makes you think you’re qualified for this position?”

You swallowed hard, taken aback by her bluntness. “I may not have the best resume, but I’ve always worked hard and learned quickly. I’m not afraid to face challenges, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to succeed.”

Her lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. “And why do you need this job so badly?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering, your voice softening. “I have a daughter. She’s four. Her name is You-mi. I want to give her the life she deserves.”

For a moment, her icy demeanor faltered. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps? But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“And what if I said I’m not interested in hiring someone who needs to be home by 6 PM every day?” she challenged, leaning forward slightly.

“Then I’d say I’ll find a way to make it work,” you replied, meeting her gaze despite the knot in your stomach. “I’m not looking for excuses. I’m looking for an opportunity.”

Her expression softened just enough to make you wonder if you’d imagined it. Then, she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.

“Impressive answer,” she said, almost begrudgingly. “Most people would crumble under pressure. You didn’t.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Later that evening, as you sat with You-mi over dinner, your phone buzzed. You unlocked it to see an email notification.

“Congratulations,” it read. “You have been selected for the position. Report to the office on Monday.”

Your heart soared.

“Did you get the job, Daddy?” You-mi asked, her eyes wide with hope.

You grinned. “Yes, sweetheart. I got the job.”

She squealed with delight, throwing her tiny arms around you. You hugged her tightly, your heart brimming with gratitude.

Unbeknownst to you, Irene was still sitting in her office, staring at your resume with an unusual intensity.

“Y/n,” she murmured, tracing the letters of your name on the paper with her perfectly manicured nail. A faint smile played on her lips—one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’ll make sure you don’t regret working here,” she whispered, her voice laced with an unsettling undertone.

Your first day at the company was a mix of nerves and determination. The office was bright and modern, with a buzz of quiet efficiency. To your surprise, the tasks assigned to you were manageable. You quickly fell into a rhythm, organizing reports, coordinating schedules, and handling the finer details Irene demanded.

By the end of the first week, your manager praised your work ethic, and even Irene, who rarely spoke outside of giving instructions, offered a curt “Good job” during a brief encounter in the hallway. Her words, though simple, carried a weight that left you feeling proud.

Months turned into years, and your role within the company became second nature. Irene was no longer just the intimidating figure behind the glass desk. Over time, she showed glimpses of a softer side—never openly affectionate, but her actions spoke volumes.

She often noticed your exhaustion before you did, offering quiet words of encouragement or granting you time off to care for You-mi. On You-mi’s birthdays, she would send beautifully wrapped gifts: a dollhouse one year, a sketchbook and art supplies another.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told her once, overwhelmed by her generosity.

“I know,” she replied coolly, her eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper. “But I want to.”

You didn’t know what to make of her. The more you got to know her, the more she seemed like an enigma.

One evening, while tucking You-mi into bed, she looked up at you with her big, curious eyes.

“Daddy, are you going to get married again?” she asked innocently.

The question caught you off guard. “Why do you ask that, sweetheart?”

“Well…” she said, twirling a strand of her hair. “Miss Irene is so nice. She always asks about me, and she smiles a lot when she talks to you. Do you like her?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Irene’s my boss. It’s not like that.”

“But you like her,” she teased, giggling as you stammered.

“She’s... kind, and she’s helped us a lot. But that doesn’t mean—”

“You’re blushing!” You-mi interrupted, bursting into laughter.

You sighed, covering your face with your hands. “Go to sleep, troublemaker.”

But as she drifted off, her words lingered. Did you like Irene?

The next morning, you found yourself standing outside Irene’s office with a coffee cup in hand. It had become a routine to bring her coffee whenever you passed the café on your way in. She always accepted it with a polite nod, and today was no different.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the cup.

You were about to leave when she stopped you. “Wait.”

You turned back. “Yes, Miss Irene?”

She gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Sit.”

Her tone left no room for argument, so you complied, feeling slightly uneasy.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, her gaze locking onto yours. “You’ve been working here for nearly three years now. Your performance has exceeded expectations, and your dedication is admirable.”

“Thank you,” you said, unsure of where this was going.

She leaned forward slightly, her fingers steepled. “But I can’t help but wonder—how do you balance it all? Your work, your daughter... your life outside this office?”

You hesitated. “It’s not easy, but I manage. And a lot of that is thanks to your support.”

Her eyes softened, the coldness melting away just a fraction. “You’re too modest.”

There was a pause, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter this time.

“Y/n... do you ever think about the future? About what you want for yourself and your daughter?”

The question caught you off guard. “Of course I do. I want to give her the best life I can.”

“And what about your happiness?” she pressed.

“I—” You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I guess I haven’t thought much about that.”

Irene’s gaze lingered on you, her expression unreadable. “Perhaps you should.”

Her words stayed with you long after you left her office, planting seeds of confusion and curiosity in your mind.

The soft glow of the apartment greeted you as you opened the door, expecting the usual quiet hum of your small home. Instead, laughter echoed from the living room. You froze in the doorway, astonished at the sight before you: Irene, dressed casually in a cream blouse and jeans, was sitting on the floor with You-mi. They were both laughing as they pieced together a jigsaw puzzle.

“Daddy!” You-mi exclaimed, spotting you first. She bounded over, her eyes sparkling. “Miss Irene is here! She brought me a princess dress and so many toys!”

Your gaze shifted to Irene, who stood up gracefully and smiled at you. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to check on You-mi, and she was kind enough to let me in.”

You shook your head, still processing. “No, of course not. I’m just... surprised. I didn’t expect you to come by.”

“I thought I’d bring some food as well,” she said, gesturing to the dining table, now laden with dishes far too elaborate for your modest kitchen. “You’ve been working hard, and I figured you deserved a proper meal.”

You-mi tugged at your hand. “Daddy, you have to try it! Miss Irene made the best roast chicken ever!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of You-mi’s excitement and Irene’s unexpected warmth. “Thank you, Irene. This is... more than I could ever ask for.”

Dinner was unlike any meal you’d had in years. Irene had prepared a roast chicken, golden and crispy, surrounded by an array of side dishes—mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and even a fresh salad. The three of you sat at the small dining table, sharing stories and laughter as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really good at cooking,” you said, unable to hide your admiration.

“It’s a hobby,” Irene admitted, a hint of pride in her voice. “I find it relaxing.”

As the evening wore on, Irene and You-mi’s bond only deepened. She listened intently to your daughter’s stories, even indulging her requests for silly games. By the time dinner was over, You-mi was yawning, her energy finally running out.

“Let me,” Irene offered, standing as You-mi clung to her arm.

You watched in amazement as Irene guided your daughter to her room, her gentle demeanor making You-mi feel safe and loved. Irene’s laughter and soothing voice drifted down the hall as she tucked her in, leaving you in a state of disbelief.

When Irene returned, she closed the door softly behind her, a content smile on her face. “She’s a wonderful child. You’ve raised her well.”

You stood, unsure of what to say. “Thank you. She’s everything to me.”

Irene walked over, her heels clicking softly against the floor until she stood in front of you. Slowly, she reached out and took your hand in hers, her touch surprisingly warm.

“You know,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I’ve always wanted to have a daughter.”

Her words caught you off guard. “You have?”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with vulnerability. “But I can’t. I’m infertile. It’s something I’ve come to accept, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Your heart ached for her as you saw the faint crack in her otherwise perfect façade. “I’m so sorry, Irene. That must be so hard.”

She squeezed your hand gently. “It is. But spending time with You-mi... it feels like I’m getting a glimpse of something I thought I’d never have. Thank you for letting me be part of her life, even if just for a moment.”

There was a long pause as the two of you stood there, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, Irene broke the silence.

“Will you come to my place tomorrow? Bring You-mi,” she said softly. “I’d like to share something with you. Maybe... she can even stay the night. I’d love to spend more time with her.”

You hesitated for a moment, but You-mi’s fondness for Irene and the kindness she’d shown made the decision easier. “Okay. We’ll come by tomorrow.”

Irene’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “Thank you, Y/n. Truly.”

As she left your apartment that night, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something in your life was beginning to change. For the first time in years, the future didn’t feel so lonely.

The grandeur of Irene’s penthouse was unlike anything you’d ever seen. The polished marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and breathtaking views of the city skyline made it feel like stepping into a dream.

“Wow, Daddy! Look at this place!” You-mi exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. She ran from room to room, her laughter echoing through the spacious halls.

You chuckled, watching her excitement, but your attention was soon drawn to Irene, who stood by the doorway, smiling warmly.

“She’s full of energy,” Irene said softly, her eyes following You-mi as the little girl ran toward her.

“Irene!” You-mi called out, launching herself into her arms.

Irene caught her effortlessly, hugging her tightly and stroking her hair with a tenderness that caught you off guard.

“Did you like the place?” Irene asked, her voice gentle.

“It’s amazing!” You-mi replied, giggling as Irene twirled her around.

You stood silently, watching the two of them interact. The sight of Irene’s loving smile and the way she held your daughter made your heart swell.

After showing You-mi to one of the guest rooms, Irene took you on a tour of the penthouse. The place was massive, complete with a private gym, an indoor pool, and even a lush garden on the balcony.

When You-mi saw the pool, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Daddy, can I swim? Please?”

You glanced at Irene, hesitant. “Is it okay?”

“Of course,” Irene said with a nod, her voice as warm as her smile.

Before you could say another word, You-mi had already dashed off to change into the swimsuit Irene had thoughtfully provided. Moments later, she was splashing happily in the pool, her laughter filling the air.

Irene placed a gentle hand on your arm, pulling your attention back to her. “Come with me,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

She led you to a wine cellar tucked away behind a sleek glass door. The room was dimly lit, with rows of fine wines lining the walls. Irene picked a bottle with practiced ease, explaining it was one of her favorites, before guiding you to a cozy seating area.

You sat across from her as she poured two glasses of deep red wine, her movements graceful and deliberate. She handed you a glass, her gaze lingering on yours.

“To new beginnings,” she said, raising her glass.

“To new beginnings,” you echoed, clinking glasses.

As you sipped the wine, Irene leaned back, her expression softening into something almost vulnerable. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

You froze, the glass halfway to your lips. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass. “I’ve thought about this for a long time. About us. About You-mi. The truth is, I want to be a part of your life. Fully.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Irene, I—”

“I want to marry you,” she said, cutting you off, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “I want to be with you and You-mi. To build a family together.”

You stared at her, stunned. The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and before you realized it, you choked on the wine in your mouth.

Coughing, you grabbed a napkin to clean yourself, but Irene was already by your side, dabbing at your shirt with her own napkin.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your cheeks burning.

Irene chuckled softly, her eyes glimmering with amusement and affection. “You don’t have to answer right away,” she said, her tone reassuring. “I just needed you to know how I feel.”

She paused, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your heart race. “You and You-mi have brought something into my life that I didn’t even know I was missing. I love her. I love you. And I want to be with both of you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. You couldn’t deny the way your heart softened at her confession.

In that moment, You-mi’s laughter from the pool echoed in the background, a reminder of the happiness Irene had already brought into your lives.

Your life at work had been smooth and steady—until Veronica joined the office. Fresh-faced and shy, she seemed out of place among the bustling professionals. Your manager had approached you one morning, handing you a folder with her profile.

“She’s new, and she’s nervous,” he said. “I trust you’ll guide her well.”

You accepted the task willingly, seeing it as an opportunity to help someone the way others had helped you when you first started. Veronica, with her quiet demeanor and hesitant smiles, quickly warmed up to you.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said one evening as you stayed late to explain a project to her.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied. “We’ve all been there.”

What began as professional guidance turned into a budding friendship. Veronica shared bits of her life—how she’d grown up in a small town, how she’d always dreamed of working in the city but found it overwhelming. Over time, she even became fond of You-mi, often stopping by your apartment with small gifts or snacks.

“It’s nice to have people around,” she confessed one evening while helping You-mi color a picture. “I’ve been alone for so long. This feels... comforting.”

But Irene wasn’t pleased.

At first, her discontent was subtle. She would glance at you coldly when she passed by your desk or curtly dismiss you in meetings. You chalked it up to stress—after all, she had a company to run.

Then things escalated.

Your manager was abruptly demoted, a punishment Irene handed down with no explanation. Rumors flew through the office, whispers of how Irene’s wrath was swift and merciless. You began to notice how she scrutinized you more closely, her sharp eyes narrowing whenever you spoke to Veronica.

One morning, as you were preparing a report, Irene stormed into your office, her expression icy.

“Why isn’t this finished?” she snapped, pointing at your desk.

“It’s due tomorrow,” you said, confused.

“Don’t make excuses,” she hissed, her voice low but venomous. “Do you think I’m blind to how you’re spending your time?”

Her words stung, but you bit your tongue. Later, in a meeting, she openly mocked you.

“Not everyone can handle responsibility,” she said, looking directly at you as the room fell silent. “But I suppose that’s expected from someone who can’t even manage his own household properly.”

The humiliation was unbearable.

At home, You-mi noticed your mood.

“Daddy, are you okay?” she asked, hugging your leg.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” you lied, ruffling her hair.

But you weren’t fine. Irene’s sudden cruelty left you bewildered. You couldn’t understand how the warm, caring woman you’d grown close to had become so cold.

One evening, you decided to confront her.

“Irene,” you said, stepping into her office after hours.

She didn’t look up from her laptop. “What do you want?”

“Why are you treating me like this?” you asked, frustration evident in your tone. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Finally, she met your gaze, her eyes icy and unreadable. “You know exactly what you did.”

“No, I don’t,” you said, exasperated. “If this is about Veronica—”

“Don’t say her name!” Irene snapped, slamming her laptop shut. “Do you think I don’t see how close you’ve gotten? How she’s wormed her way into your life, into your home?”

“She’s just a colleague,” you said, trying to stay calm. “She doesn’t mean anything to me like that.”

“Doesn’t she?” Irene said bitterly. “You let her into your life, into our lives. Do you think I’d stand by and let someone take you away from me?”

Her words sent a chill down your spine.

“Irene, you’re overreacting—”

“Am I?” she interrupted, stepping closer. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you? How much I’ve sacrificed to be with you and You-mi? And now you bring her into the picture?”

Her voice cracked, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath her anger.

“I just want to protect what’s mine,” she said softly, her eyes glinting with something dark.

The days that followed were a nightmare. Irene’s possessiveness only grew, her obsession suffocating. She controlled every aspect of your work life, assigning you impossible tasks and berating you for minor errors. At home, you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder, fearing what might come next.

And yet, despite everything, part of you still remembered the woman who had brought joy to your life, who had cared for You-mi as if she were her own.

But now, that woman seemed like a distant memory.

The phone call from Veronica came late into the night. Her voice trembled with fear.

"Y/n, something’s wrong. You-mi is missing," she whispered, her panic barely contained.

“What?” you exclaimed, nearly dropping the phone. “What do you mean, missing?”

“I went to check on her after dinner, and she wasn’t in her room. The door was open, and the place—” Veronica paused, choking on her words. “You need to come home. Now.”

You didn’t waste a second. Driving back felt like an eternity, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. When you finally arrived, the sight of your wrecked apartment made your blood run cold.

Furniture was overturned, shattered glass littered the floor, and You-mi’s toys were scattered everywhere. It was as if a storm had torn through the place. And then you saw it: a piece of paper pinned to the wall, the words scrawled in an elegant yet chilling handwriting.

“You know where to find her. -Irene-”

Your heart sank. You grabbed the note, crumpling it in your fist. There was no time to waste. You knew exactly where she’d taken You-mi.

The elevator ride to Irene’s penthouse felt agonizingly slow. When the doors finally opened, you stepped into the lavish space that once felt inviting but now reeked of menace.

“Irene!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the penthouse. “Where’s You-mi?”

You heard faint whimpers coming from one of the rooms. Following the sound, you found Irene in the lounge, standing over a trembling You-mi who sat curled up on the couch. Irene’s once-beautiful face was twisted with madness, her eyes wild and unrecognizable.

“You’re here,” Irene said, her voice eerily calm. “I was just having a little chat with our daughter.”

“She’s not your daughter,” you snapped, stepping between her and You-mi. “What are you doing, Irene? This isn’t you!”

“She could be,” Irene said, ignoring your plea. She crouched down to You-mi’s level, her tone unnervingly sweet. “Don’t you want me to be your mommy, sweetheart? I can give you everything. A beautiful home, toys, anything you want.”

You-mi shook her head, her small frame trembling. “I want my real mommy,” she said in a tiny voice.

The rejection made Irene’s composure crack. Her smile vanished, replaced by an expression of pure fury. She stood abruptly, glaring at You-mi.

“Do you know what I’ve done for you? For your father?” she spat, her voice rising. “I’ve given everything, and this is how you repay me?”

“Irene, stop!” you shouted, stepping in front of You-mi.

But Irene was beyond reason. She laughed—a hollow, chilling sound—and began pacing the room. “You think you can just replace me with her?” she sneered, her eyes narrowing. “Veronica. She’s the problem, isn’t she?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice laced with desperation.

Irene stopped pacing and fixed her gaze on you, her expression dark. “It’s simple,” she said, her tone deadly calm. “You have a choice to make. Either you save Veronica...”

She pointed to a door at the far end of the room.

“Or you save You-mi.”

Your blood turned to ice. “What have you done?”

Irene smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Veronica’s here, too. I’ve given her... a little head start. She’s in the basement. If you leave now, you might just make it in time. But if you go after her, you leave You-mi alone with me. Forever.”

You-mi clung to your leg, crying. “Daddy, don’t leave me,” she sobbed.

You knelt down, holding her tightly. “I won’t, sweetheart. I promise.”

Irene watched the scene with a twisted sense of satisfaction. “Tick-tock,” she said, tapping an invisible watch on her wrist. “What’s it going to be, Y/n? The woman who’s wormed her way into your life? Or your precious daughter?”

The room felt suffocating, the weight of Irene’s ultimatum crushing your very soul. You looked at You-mi, her tear-streaked face buried in your chest, and then at Irene, whose maniacal grin only deepened the longer you hesitated.

Time was running out, and you knew that no matter what you chose, someone would suffer.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. And then you made your decision.

“I’ll do it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Irene’s smile faltered for a moment. “What did you say?”

You stood, gently prying You-mi off you and placing her behind you protectively. Meeting Irene’s eyes, you spoke with a trembling resolve. “I’ll give myself to you, Irene. My body, my blood, my soul—everything. Just let Veronica go and leave You-mi out of this.”

A stunned silence filled the room. Irene’s expression softened, her lips parting in disbelief.

“You mean it?” she whispered, stepping closer, her manic energy shifting into something almost tender. “You’ll be mine? Completely?”

You swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes. But only if you let Veronica go and promise never to hurt You-mi again.”

Irene tilted her head, studying you with a calculating gaze. “You’re serious,” she said, almost to herself. Then, with a sly smile, she nodded. “Fine. You have my word.”

“Irene—”

Before you could say more, she raised a hand, silencing you. “I said I agree. But I want proof.”

“Proof?”

Irene stepped closer, her fingers brushing your cheek. “Kiss me,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding.

Your stomach churned, but you knew there was no other way. Slowly, you leaned in, pressing your lips against hers. The kiss was long and possessive, Irene pouring all her obsession and desire into it. When she finally pulled away, her eyes gleamed with triumph.

“There,” she said softly. “Now I know you’re mine.”

Irene turned to You-mi, who was still trembling behind you. For a moment, you feared she might lash out again, but instead, she crouched to meet You-mi’s gaze.

“You’re safe now, little one,” Irene said, her tone unnervingly gentle. “Daddy and I will take care of everything.”

You-mi clung to your leg, refusing to respond.

“I’ll call my men,” Irene continued, rising to her full height. “Veronica will be released, unharmed. Consider it a show of good faith.”

“Thank you,” you said cautiously, watching her every move.

Irene smirked. “Oh, don’t thank me yet, darling. You belong to me now. You’ll see what that means soon enough.”

That night, Irene’s men escorted you and You-mi home, leaving you in the wreckage of your apartment. True to her word, Veronica called shortly after, her voice filled with relief and confusion.

“They let me go,” she said. “Y/n, what’s going on? Why did they take me?”

“I can’t explain right now,” you said, your voice hollow. “But you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

Veronica hesitated. “Are you safe?”

You glanced at You-mi, who was curled up on the couch, clutching her favorite stuffed animal. “I will be,” you lied.

Hanging up, you sat beside You-mi, stroking her hair as she drifted off to sleep. Your mind raced with what you had done. You had sold your soul to Irene, binding yourself to her darkness to protect the people you loved.

But as much as you hated her, part of you couldn’t deny the strange pull she had over you. Irene wasn’t just a monster—she was a broken woman, consumed by her obsession. And now, you were trapped in her web, with no way out.

As the night stretched on, you stared out the window, wondering what the future would hold.

For better or worse, you belonged to Irene now.

Years passed like fleeting moments, blurring into a haze of quiet chaos and bittersweet milestones. You-mi was now a high school student, blossoming into a bright and ambitious young woman. Seeing her smile and thrive brought you immeasurable joy, even as your life remained entangled in the suffocating grip of Irene’s obsession.

You stood by the front door of your lavish mansion, watching You-mi tie her shoelaces before heading off to school. She had grown so much—her features now a blend of the girl she once was and the confident young woman she was becoming.

“Dad,” she said, looking up at you with a warm smile. “Stop fussing. I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t help it,” you said, chuckling softly. “You’re my little girl.”

“Not so little anymore,” she teased, adjusting her backpack. “By the way, tell Irene I said thanks for the new laptop. I know she means well, even if she’s... intense.”

You nodded, the familiar knot in your chest tightening. “I will. Be safe, okay?”

“Always,” she said, giving you a quick hug before stepping out the door.

You returned to the living room, where Irene sat on the couch, cradling one of the twins. Jessica was dozing peacefully in her arms, while Jennifer played with blocks on the carpet.

Irene glanced up at you, her sharp features softening for a moment. “She’s growing up too fast,” she said, her voice unusually tender.

“She is,” you agreed, sitting beside her. “But she’s happy. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

Irene smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from Jessica’s face. The years had changed her, too. After undergoing a groundbreaking operation to address her infertility, she had given birth to your twin daughters. It was a moment she had dreamed of for years, and while it added another layer to your complex relationship, you couldn’t deny the love you felt for Jennifer and Jessica.

They were innocent in all of this, and you vowed to give them the same happiness and stability you had fought so hard to provide for You-mi.

“Irene,” you said, your tone cautious, “do you ever think about how we got here?”

She looked at you, her expression unreadable. “Every day,” she said simply. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Her honesty, as always, was disarming. Irene’s possessiveness hadn’t diminished over the years, but she had learned to temper it in small ways. She still kept a close eye on you, her jealousy bubbling just beneath the surface, but she no longer lashed out as violently as she once had. Perhaps the birth of your children had softened her—or maybe she had simply realized she didn’t need to fight anymore.

You were hers. You always had been.

As night fell, you stood by the twins’ cribs, watching them sleep. Jennifer clutched a stuffed bear, while Jessica sucked her thumb. They looked so peaceful, so untouched by the darkness that had once engulfed your life.

Irene appeared beside you, slipping her hand into yours. “They’re perfect, aren’t they?” she whispered.

“They are,” you said, squeezing her hand lightly.

For all the pain and turmoil, you couldn’t deny the happiness you felt in moments like this. Your life was far from normal, far from ideal, but it was yours. You had found a way to survive, to adapt, and to find joy in the midst of Irene’s suffocating love.

As you stood there, watching over your daughters, you couldn’t help but think of You-mi’s bright future. No matter what happened, you had given her a chance to thrive—a chance to break free from the shadows of your past.

And that, at least, made all the sacrifices worth it.

[sabsberries]

I love you, I'm sorry - h.s.

summary - Harry's ex girlfriend comes over to pick up her belongings after their breakup

w.c - 2.2k

warnings - swearing, angst, use of Y/N, lowkey didn't proofread, and lowkey rushed ending...

Harry couldn't decide which was worse: the breakup itself, or watching her walk around his house, barely digging below the surface of his belongings, and picking out anything that was hers.

"Do you want a drink? I've got tea, coffee, water.." His voice trailed off slightly as she looked at him, his train of thought slowing down and his throat tightening.

"I'm okay, thanks. Did you want to keep this?" She questioned, picking up a golden picture frame containing a photo of the first time Harry met her family. He was in the middle of the photo, a huge, dimpled smile on his face with her mum's arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, her sister on his left, and Gemma on his right, a similar smile adoring her own face.

Harry looked at it for a few seconds, his eyes squinting in acknowledgment. "Better not," he mumbled. "You know.."

"Right." She whispered, placing the picture frame into a nearby box and standing up, cursing at the way her knee loudly clicked.

Harry chuckled, curling his lips inwards slightly. "You still haven't gotten that checked out?" He laughed.

"Shut up! I'll get around to it!" She giggled, moving her leg slightly.

"Please, you could barely finish our hike when we were last in LA! I heard more whining about your leg than I heard of them actually walking!"

"That doesn't even make sense!" She laughed, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise that he would even mention a memory of them from when they were dating. "And if I recall correctly, I finished that hike faster than you did!"

Harry smiled to himself, his hands twitching to stay by his side as they laughed. "I actually have your hiking boots upstairs, if you still want them."

Her smile dropped slightly, and Harry's heart twinged. Why would he bring that up when they were having such a good time together?

"Right. Well, I'll get round to it. I'm gonna go get my stuff from the kitchen." She smiled weakly, grabbing a slightly smaller box and making her way through the house and to the kitchen.

The living room looked like it had before she had moved in, and Harry didn't like that. He didn't like the way the fireplace no longer had her trinkets on top of it, or how the coffee table was now left empty, bar from the TV remote and a candle she insisted Harry should buy.

"Shit." He whispered, his eyes darting from corner to corner, analysing the loss of her items, the loss of her.

"Harry, was the bee mug yours or mine?" He heard her call out.

"We both had one. Take either." He replied, his eyes never leaving the box on the floor, half full with photos.

"Okay, I grabbed the pink one because I think the purple one was yours. I think all that's left is the bedroom and the bathrooms." Y/N sighed, walking back into the living room and putting the box down next to the others.

Harry stayed silent, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on the boxes that surrounded him.

"Harry?"

"Oh, right. Yeah," He cleared his throat and turned around. "Let's go do that."

The bathrooms were easy. Y/N grabbed a few shower products from the three with showers, and then the remaining skincare products, which she forgot to grab the night they broke up, from the ensuite.

The bedroom, however, was not.

Throughout the four year relationship, Harry and Y/N managed to muddle up just about every single item of clothing they owned. Graphic t-shirts once owned by Harry? Now Y/N wore them too. Hoodies Y/N had accumulated over the years? Harry owned them too. So, as Harry sat on the bed feeling as useless as ever whilst watching Y/N struggle to decipher whose clothing was whose, he felt the ache in his chest come back.

"I think most of the hoodies are yours, anyway." He called out after a good fifteen minutes of silence.

"Yeah?" She mumbled, throwing him a brief look over her shoulder before pulling a few more off of the hangers.

"Yeah," He whispered. "Well, everything on the right side is yours. Maybe some on the left too. I tried to organise them before you got here so it wouldn't be as hard."

That was a lie. He had spent the two hour notice he got from her muddling up as much of their things as possible so that she would spend more time with him.

"Thanks." She smiled.

"I washed a few of them too so you don't have to worry about that, either."

Another lie. In fact, he sprayed a couple with his cologne and put them over to his side of the wardrobe so they'd smell like him for longer.

"You really didn't have to, H."

"I know."

The silence came back, but this time, Harry's chest didn't hurt as much. Sure, his heart felt as heavy as ever, and he felt dizzy from how much pain was circulating his mind and body, but it wasn't as bad as before. That was a win in his eyes.

Y/N knew Harry. She knew him better than, as cliche as it is, she knew herself. She knew he had sprayed her clothes with his cologne, and that she hadn't put her moisturiser in with Harry's, or her favourite perfume under the sink with a significant amount missing. But who was she to judge? She had just broken up with him, and maybe if things had worked out differently, she would be sat on that bed with him, gossiping about some family drama and planning out future holidays together.

"Mum's thinking of adopting a new cat." Harry smiled.

"What- another one?"

"Well, that would be what the 'new cat' means." Harry laughed, crossing his right ankle over his left.

"Oh, piss off. How come?"

"Dunno. She called me this morning and told me about it. She said she couldn't wait for you two to discuss it over lunch."

"Really?" Y/N questioned, dropping the hoodie she was folding and turning around to face Harry. "Did you not tell her?"

Harry's face fell ever so slightly, and for a split second, she felt bad for bringing it up.

"Not yet. I think I'll let the joys of a possible new cat wear off before I tell her. Gemma knows though, and she's so fucking pissed." Harry breathed a laugh, tilting his head to the side slightly as he pictured the angry look on Gemma's face as he snatched her phone off of her to avoid an angry phone call to Y/N.

"Oh, I know. She called me on the drive here telling me I was making a mistake."

"What'd you say?"

"Not a lot, really. She's your family. I'm not going to use this as leverage to get her on my side." Y/N explained, and turned back around to continue folding and packing.

Harry stayed silent for a few more seconds before opening his mouth to speak. "Do you really think she'd even be on your side, even if you had told her it?" His tone was nothing short of bitter, a harsh contrast to the playful tone he was sporting prior.

Y/N didn't speak. Part of her felt like she didn't have the right to, and the other part was telling her to finish packing and leave.

The silence this time was worse. It was heavy, and painful, and now, her fault.

"Do you uhm-" She cleared her throat, "do you want this?" She asked, pulling out one of his t-shirts which she had been sleeping in since the first night she had ever slept over at his house. The collar had been stretched out, and shrunk too many times in the wash for Harry to even comfortably fit his biceps in, but she still felt as though she should ask.

Harry looked at her, taking a mental note at the way her eyebrows were furrowed, and the way her eyes were slightly hazy, and off focus. He felt his expression drop to mirror hers as he flickered between the t-shirt and her face as he tried to think of an answer.

"Harry just keep it, I need to get going." She mumbled, zipping up the duffle bag and standing up.

"Got somewhere to be?" He scoffed. Truth is, he didn't actually know where the anger was coming from. The breakup was civil for the most part, and both him and Y/N walked away happy with what they had left behind.

Y/N continued to stay quiet. The plan she had created in her head on the drive over didn't include even a hint of an argument, so she wasn't sure she'd have an idea of what to say if one did start.

The walk down the stairs was pure torture. It felt as though Harry scoffed with every step she took, and her heart was about to explode with embarrassment over how fast the situation turned on her. 

"I'm gonna put this in the car. I'll be back for the rest." She whispered, barely looking Harry in the eyes before darting out of the door.

Harry's eyes welled up with tears, and no matter how much swallowing and sniffling he did, the ache in his throat didn't seem to budge. "Okay, I- fuck." he whispered, covering his face with his hands and turning around to walk back to the kitchen, taking advantage of the dark kitchen and using it to cover his face.

"Harry?" Y/N called out.

He cleared his throat and pulled open the fridge, putting his head inside and using it to hide the way he was frantically wiping at his eyes.

"In the kitchen."

The patter of her footsteps was soothing, in a way. Harry hated that he found comfort in her being back in their, his, house again for the first time in God knows how long.

"I finished all the boxes." She whispered.

Harry turned around to face her. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the way that her lower lip was slightly quivering made him wish that their situation was different, and that he was still allowed to hug her, and tell her she was okay, and that he was there for her.

He nodded. He wasn't quite sure what to say in this situation. He had had serious relationships before, both of them had, but this was the only one that made Harry feel seen, and understood, and like he had really found the one.

The sun had set fully by now, and the only light in the room was the open fridge and the faint glow from the moon.

"Am I ever going to find out the real reason why you broke up with me? Or are you going to keep it to yourself for a year and then call me up and tell me on a random Tuesday? Because, Y/N, if we really were ‘growing apart’, don't you think I would have felt it too?" Harry spat at her, watching the way her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth opened slightly to defend herself.

"Oh, please, Harry! Don't act like you're the victim in this!" She yelled back.

"What, and you are?"

"No! Neither of us are! Just because I'm the one who insinuated this doesn't mean the breakup itself wasn't mutual! Harry, how am I supposed to spend the rest of my life with someone when I can't even spend right now with them?"

Harry knew it was coming. Her reason for the breakup was that they were growing apart, arguing all the time, and were no longer the same people they were when they began dating all those years ago. Harry's reasoning for the breakup was, well, nothing. He didn't have a reason. If he had it his way, they'd be cuddled up in bed right now, Y/N showing him a video of someone falling over, and him searching Netflix for a movie for them to watch. But that’s the issue - you can’t force someone to be in a relationship that they so clearly don’t want to be in.

"Why couldn't you have figured this out before I planned out my whole life based on you being in it?" Harry muttered, staring at his feet as his eyes filled up with the tears he previously had tried to shun away.

The fridge began to beep before Y/N could answer, and, as painful as it was, she used that as her cue to leave. 

"Okay, Harry, I really need to go. I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry." Y/N said, wrapping her arms around her lower stomach and trying to control her rapid breathing.

She hesitated before leaving, and turned her head over her shoulder to look back at him. His face was emotionless, bar from the tears dripping down his cheeks, and his eyes were unfocused, staring at the kitchen floor. The fridge was still beeping, and Y/N knew that despite it annoying him, Harry only kept it going because it was better than the silence. The silence was the real killer.

"Call me if you ever need anything, okay?" She took a deep breath. "I love you, Harry. I'm sorry."

[sugarwarachan]

title: better than most to say the least

pairing: dabi x reader (also on ao3)

wc: oops this is almost 3k

CWs: soulmate!au, fem!reader, slight angst if you squint, no condoms used (wrap it up in real life yall), Dabi's a little mean, reader's a little into it, the unbearable burden of being seen, i haven't written fic in years be gentle

Dabi doesn’t care about much. You can’t in the sort of world he inhabits. It’s much easier to scorch the earth behind you than to plan for good things to come. So he’s furious when he hears your voice, a real soft and low number, like a siren out in the fucking fog, say, “That’ll be ¥500.”

His brother laughed when the soul mark activated; even at the age of three, he’d known just how mundane the words were. Part of him had laughed as well; maybe you and he would laugh about it, too, when you met. The laughter died in his throat when he saw his father’s disapproving face.

He looks down at the packaged onigiri in something like disbelief. Your face is starting to express apprehension. He still hasn’t said anything, and it doesn’t even look like he’ll pay. He’s not surprised you’re weirded out, and fuck, something is pressing against his chest, like a buoy rising up, pulling him to the surface so he can finally suck down oxygen.

He feels fucking free, giddy with it. You’re real. He never once imagined you would be.

The grin that cracks his face must look a touch maniacal because your eyes widen, and he watches you press yourself against the counter as he says, “Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, princess?”

He’s not all that pleasant to look at.

You know that’s not a nice thing to think, especially about your soul mate, but you can’t help that your first thought upon seeing the guy was holy fucking shit what happened to you?

A moment ago, he was glaring at you, and now he’s radiating a nervous energy that puts you on edge. It’s like he thinks you’ll disappear the moment he takes his eyes off you.

You’re no criminal, but you’re no hero, either. You’ve got a quirk that makes most people wary of you, so your nonsense detector is finely tuned, and fuck, your soul mate is definitely the kind of dude who ends up on the other side of those hero compilations your coworker streams on her lunch break.

“Not done talking to me, are you?” He pouts, pushing out his lips and pulling at the staples in his face. His voice is nice. It relaxes you somehow, even when every nerve in your body is shrieking in alarm.

“Where’s yours?”

This throws him. A part of you doesn’t like forcing his hand like this, but another part of you thinks this could be a really convenient trap.

“Your soul mark?” You tap the side of your wrist. “Mine’s along the radial bone.”

He reaches over the till to grab your arm, pulling you closer. You yelp in protest. His touch is hot, familiar. You’re grateful no one else is in the store right now. Explaining this to yourself is going to be enough of a hassle later on.

There’s a menace in his voice when he addresses you. “You think I’m a liar?”

You don’t, actually. Even without the soul mark you would take this man at his word.

“No. But you’ve been in here a whole lot, and I’m a naturally suspicious person. So, pony up and show me.”

You’ve gotta be smart about this. Heroes and villains alike would do a lot to get a person with your quirk on their side, and you’re not so naïve as to think that soul marks can’t be discovered and used against you.  

He grins, and you feel it like a twist to the gut. This guy might actually kill you; you don’t really know. But something—the little bond between the tug of you that threaded your lives together the moment he opened his mouth—is already tugging at your brain for answers, for knowledge, all to better assemble who your soulmate is.

“We’ve gotta go somewhere safe for me to do that, doll.” He leers at you, and you wonder if he’s trying to intimidate, trying to imprint on your brain that, yes, he is, in fact, dangerous. “You’re just gonna have to take my word for it.”

Fat fucking chance.

You don’t take him at his word. You call him every name he’s ever heard and then some, and then you close your eyes and hum, and a feeling like sugared caramel slides into his head. Fuck is he floating? he thinks before he crumples to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

When he comes to, his head is splitting. He’s sitting in what he assumes is the store’s backroom, judging by the shelves lined with cleaning products. You’re on a crate watching him with an annoyed expression, lips kicked out in a pout. It draws attention to the fullness of your lower lip. He tries not to notice.

“You could have just shown me,” you grouse.

“And miss out on the chance to have you hit me with your quirk? What kind of masochist would I be then?”

He doesn’t know what you’re doing as a cashier, but it’s safe to say you’re hiding. He has no idea what you did to him, but just before he’d knocked out, he remembered the first time he mastered the flames, that sticky-sweet feeling of hope in his chest. He has no idea how you managed to dig that out after all these years.

You shrug, ignoring him.

“Too good to fucking explain?” he snaps.

You saw something vulnerable, so personal that not even the league knows he has those thoughts, those memories. If he could scrub them from your brain, he would.

“I can make you dream,” you snap back. “When I was a kid, I used to spend a lot of time in my own head. It worried my parents. They got me tested because they thought I was quirkless. The doctor said I had a minor empathy quirk. Nothing to worry about. What kid wouldn’t want the advantage of knowing how others feel?”

You clench your hands.

“I didn’t know if I could implant a dream into someone’s head, but I spun that dream the night before, and my parents were never the wiser. Up until the day they died, they never knew I’d planned out that scenario already and made that man lie to them.”

He’s floored. He can’t believe you’re willingly offering up such valuable information to him. What would Shigaraki do with you, he wonders, before a violent pain follows the thought. No, Shigaraki isn’t getting his hands on you. He doesn’t exactly know what happens to the things that kid collects for his master.

“Not at the top of the list for hero candidates?”

Your lips pull back in a sneer before you realize. You’re bad at hiding your feelings, he realizes, something that makes him feel oddly protective. You’ll need to get better at that.

He turns his hands out, palms up. A thin blue flame erupts. You jump, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“We’re gonna need to move, sweets. Neither one of us is exactly hero material.”

He takes you to a sorry excuse for a safe house because it’s just some guy on vacation who was stupid enough to leave a spare key behind, but it works in a pinch. He can’t take you to the league just yet. He already barely knows you, and there he would have to split your time with everyone else.

You’re standing in the doorway like a spooked animal. That you agreed to come is shocking in itself, but then again, he would have followed you into a coffin if you asked it of him. Maybe there was something to those soul mate stories Toga pretended not to read after all. He thought the whole bond thing was exaggerated, but maybe not.

He clenches his jaw and grabs a beer from the fridge.

“I’m not gonna fucking hurt you. You can take the bedroom,” he says, even though he wants you to sit next to him, to look at him, to share something again the way you had in the storeroom. But you’re already shuffling away, and before he knows it, the door shuts with a click, and he’s alone in the dark.

Confirmed villain.

It took you all of two seconds to search the web for League of Villains and/or criminal activity across the country, and bam, there he is, menacing even in blurry camera footage.

You stare up at the ceiling and wonder if you should be horrified at yourself that this confirmation changes nothing. He’s just your soulmate, for better or for worse.

And you’re a coward for sitting in here rather than performing the simple task of sharing a drink with him.

The blue glow of the television lights up the living room. He’s moved to the couch, long legs spread open, arms resting along the back. Desire drops low in your stomach at the sight, an almost innate need flashing in your body to climb into his lap.

He catches your eye and smirks like he can read your thoughts. You blush furiously. “Did you realize hiding doesn’t solve shit?”

“Shut up,” you retort, like a child, which makes him laugh. It’s a nice laugh. A little subdued, you think, but warm, hard-won. You don’t imagine he laughs often.

When you settle down next to him, he seems to barely register, but something in you knows he’s pleased. You curl toward the feeling like a cat seeking a sunbeam.  

“Really, though. What made you come out?”

Looking him in the eye is a mistake. He has beautiful eyes, a cerulean blue that puts the sky to shame.

“I don’t like running from things,” you manage. You were wrong to think he wasn’t pretty. “What’s your name?”

He snorts. “You’ve gotta know it, doll, didn’t you spend ten minutes in there panic-searching for violent crime?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Call me old-fashioned, but I’d still like to be introduced.”

“It’s Dabi.”

You raise a brow. “That’s it?”

“For now. I’ll tell you the real one later, okay?”

“Fine.”

He’s watching compilation videos of pro heroes, the footage flickering on the walls around you.

“This is what you do in your spare time?”

He shrugs. “Just what was on.”

You don’t believe that for a second, but it’s fine, because you’re a liar, too. You’d do anything to avoid painful topics, like the possibility that your soulmate already has plans outside of you that you won’t be able to change.

“You know, your words used to get me in a lot of trouble,” you say, to get you back into familiar territory.

He smiles, like that pleases him. You bet it does.

“Oh yeah? What sort of trouble?”

“Just the usual. Your soulmate has a potty mouth, your soul mate’s probably a villain…”

His shoulder tenses against you. You don’t remember scooting closer, but the sheer fucking heat of him is searing into your skin.

You want him. If you’re being honest, you’ve probably wanted him since he first appeared in the store. The part of you that doesn’t exactly abide by societal standards saw a kindred flame in him.

“That sort of thing used to bother me when I was a kid, I guess. But the older I got, the more I realized how much I liked them.”

Your hands ache to touch him. His thigh tenses alongside yours.

“What do you like about them now?” he asks.

You have a whole slew of thoughts in your head about them, the characteristics you assumed based on one little question, but for now all you can say is, “That you finally said them.”

He doesn’t know who moves first.

You tumble into his lap inelegantly, but he doesn’t care; he wants you closer. He’s wanted you closer since he arrived at this shitty studio apartment, has been trying to rein in the overwhelming feeling of possession swarming under his skin, but he wants.

He's a villain, and he’s never been good at waiting for what he wants.

His hands press into the meat of your hips, and he savors the little gasp you make. He’s hard as iron already and all you’ve done is settle your clothed cunt on top of him.

“You’re already fucking scorching, baby, can feel you through your fucking jeans,” he hisses, dragging you along his thigh. You whimper. “I know, fuck, I know, you’re driving me crazy, too.”

Your hands are everywhere, sliding over his scarred skin like you were born to it, fingers exploring the cool metal of his staples. You’re gentle but also not, and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt in his entire life. You move to kiss him, your hips moving more and more, a desperate noise bubbling up in your throat.

“Please, Dabi, please.” You sound so fucked out, and he hasn’t even touched you all that much. “I wanna kiss you, don’t you wanna kiss me?”

He smirks. A little brat, begging for kisses.

He does want to kiss you, has been staring at the plushness of your lips for the better part of since he met you, but his mouth aches today.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna kiss me now,” you’re saying, tongue licking and tasting and sucking at his neck. He bucks against you. “We can feel good in other ways.”

The whimper that comes out of him feels ripped from his soul. His arms cage you closer, one palm snaking up to cup your neck, the other under your shirt.

Neither of you talk as you make quick work of each other’s clothes, discarding them to the floor. He tries not to feel insecure as you take in his body. Over the years, his appearance is as much a part of him as his past. He can’t shed either, no matter how much he might want to.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think you were pretty at first.”

You look so devastated that he can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t fucking care,” he says, pulling you to him and kissing you despite how much his lips ache, because fuck, he has someone, finally, and he’s so glad it’s you. “Just want you.”

He punctuates this by cupping your bare pussy with his hand. Just from grinding on him earlier, you’re slippery and warm, and his fingers part your folds easily. You sigh into his mouth as he rubs the pad of his thumb around the sides of your clit, huffing a laugh when your hips buck for more.

“Getting desperate for it, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you grit out. “Just fucking touch me –" you roll your hips forward – “like you fucking mean it.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll have you dumb on my cock before long.”

“Big fucking talk for a man who hasn’t even – “

He cuts you off by stuffing your pussy with two of his fingers, the stretch of it making you whine. You can feel the cool metal in the staples at the heel of his hand as he strokes, in and out, a steady and rough rhythm that feels impossibly good for it to just be fucking fingering.

“No one ever made you feel this way?” You can hear the smirk in his voice without even seeing him. Splayed out on his lap like this, your tits bouncing as you shift your body closer to him, you bet you look like a fucking mess. But you don’t care, because he's right, no one has ever made you feel like this, and it’s important to you that he feels just as fucking good.

His cock curves along his stomach, weeping pre-cum and jerking up whenever your voice hitches. You think it’s so hot, how in tune he already is with you, how much he wants to please you, that you grab him in the palm of your hand and stroke, relishing the groan that rumbles in his throat.

“No one ever made you feel this way?” you taunt. His eyes flash, and before you know it, you’re both on the ground, his hips slotting in between your legs and his cock notching up at your entrance. He looks up at you, pupils blown, chest heaving.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’ll fucking murder you –"

He cuts you off with one quick rock of his hips. You burn at the stretch. He’s big, and it’s been a while, but he’s already moving before you have time to process that little blip of pain before the pleasure is overwhelming you. You squeal when he lifts your hips up, but it’s just to slip a pillow under you before he’s manhandling your hips and fucking into you like a man possessed.

His breath is hot against your ear, whispering a litany of confessions while he drags his cock in and out. It’s so purposeful, you feel every stroke of him in your fucking skull. His pubic bone grinds against your clit with every thrust, and before you know it, you’re chanting praises, begging him to let you come.

He knows the neighbors will complain, that the safe house is absolutely busted, but he can’t fucking care, because your perfect little cunt is squeezing him like a vice, and your eyes are so blissful as you come that he feels, finally, at peace.

“That’s it, princess,” he says as your orgasm shatters through you. “Make a fucking mess, just for me, god yes –"

He comes so hard that his vision whites out. All he can feel and hear and see and think is you.

He collapses on top of you, nosing at the baby hairs damp with sweat along your neck. He smiles. Maybe later he’ll take you to a bed and tell you his real name.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

I See You As You Are

aemond x f!reader 

Series Masterlist

Summary: You are placed in marriage with a man you’ve never met. You write to him in hopes of getting to learn something about him but your letters go mostly unanswered. After arriving at court you and the Prince have already made decisions about each other that weighs down heavily on the both of you.

Warnings: miscommunication, arranged marriage, a cup of wine, both aemond and reader wanting to speak but refusing to do so

Authors Note: pls see the vision w me ik this is different from my smut smut smut smut but like give her a shot maybe 👉🏼👈🏼

Word Count: 5k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Aemond couldn’t care less about strengthening house alliances if it meant he had to marry someone he’s never met. He didn’t necessarily see himself marrying, nonetheless being forced into one for political headaches that his mother and grandfather had caused. He even went as far to speak to Aegon to tell him he would do no such thing. After Aegon’s fit of laughter he just clapped Aemond on the back and congratulated him on the opportunity to bed a woman more than once. 

Aemond fumed and stormed out of his chambers and started to make his way down to the training yard. He walked down the stairs and threw the doors open making a straight line, avoiding the people who glanced his way. He stops on his heel when he hears the grand maester calling after him. 

“My Prince, just a moment.” the man shuffles down the stairs with a small scroll. “From your betrothed.” the maester smiles up at him before leaving him in the yard once more. 

Aemond looks down at the rolled parchment in his hands as if it’s personally begrudged him. What could you possibly need to say to him? He’s half tempted to throw it in the fire but his curiosity is getting the better of him. Sighing he steps over to the wall and breaks the seal and unrolls the parchment. 

~

My Prince, 

I must admit my nerves about coming to King’s Landing at the end of the week. I’ve never been to court and I don’t know what to expect. If you had any words of advice or encouragement I would be grateful. I look forward to meeting you. No one seems to know much about you and I’ve grown quite curious. 

Your Betrothed 

~

Aemond reads over your parchment two more times and scoffs before shoving it in his pocket. What do you expect him to say? Any words of encouragement.. he shakes his head. He has nothing to say and no desire to write back to you but he’s sure the maester has told his mother by now and she’ll insist. He clenches his fist before beginning to make his way to the training yard. 

“Aemond.” he closes his eye when he hears his mothers voice. He just wants to train. “Come, what did she say?” she swishes over to him. 

“None of your concern.” he looks down at her. 

“You will write back to her.” her voice firm. 

“What is the point? She’ll be here by the end of the week.” his tone clipped. 

“What did she say?” she tries to pry. 

“That she doesn’t want to come to court.” he turns to walk back to the training yard but his mother grabs his arm. 

“Let me see.” she holds out her hand. 

“No.” he spits out. 

“Aemond. Show me.” she steps closer and he flares his nostrils, shoving the parchment into her hand. She scans it over and shakes her head at him. “You will tell her you’re excited to meet her and ask if there’s anything she should want to be more comfortable.” his eye widens at her suggestion. 

“I will do no such thing.” he scoffs at her. “I’m going to train.” he snatches the parchment out of her fingers before making his way to the training yard once more. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

You curse yourself as you wait all morning for a raven to come. It was wishful to think the Prince would write back to you, but you couldn’t help but hope. By the time it was midday you had given up and started down the steps of the tower. You stopped and decided you were going to send him another letter. With no care or not if he answered this one, you sat at the desk and picked up the quill and ink. 

~

Prince Aemond, 

Most of my trunks are packed now. I scarcely recognize my own chambers any longer. We’re to start our journey to King's Landing the day after tomorrow. My nerves have been getting the best of me. I hope to hear from you before we leave. 

Your Betrothed

~

You fan the ink off, helping it dry before you begin to roll it. You pour a small amount of wax on and press the seal onto the paper. You hand it off to a maester and make your way back down the steps. When you make it out in the courtyard you look around with glassy eyes already missing your home and you haven’t even left yet. You quickly dry your eyes and make your way back to your chambers. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Gods above you sent him another letter. He snatches the rolled parchment and storms back to his chambers and sits at his table with his head in his hands. He had hoped this situation would just go away and maybe if he ignored you, you wouldn’t come to court. He stares at the parchment before opening it and reading. He read it twice more and memorized how his name looked in your handwriting. 

Aemond groans, rubbing his face and letting the parchment fall to the table. He leans back in the chair before picking up the parchment and reading your curt words over again. He rises and grabs a piece of parchment along with his ink and quill before sitting back down. He stares at the blank parchment at a loss for what to say. 

~

Court lacks anything of importance at the moment. My mother has urged me to offer you anything that will make you more comfortable. Make your requests and they will be done. 

Aemond Targaryen

~

He reads over his message and nods. As the ink dries he begins to melt the wax to seal it, shaking his head at sending you a raven. He quickly rolls the parchment and seals it, blowing on the wax. Walking to his door quickly he takes the parchment to the maester before he changes his mind and throws the message into the fire. The maester smiles at the small roll and Aemond waits until he sees the raven begin to carry it into the sky. 

He scrunches his brow wishing he didn’t send it in the first place. He debates whether it’d be worth it to get on Vhagar and have her burn every raven an hour out of the city. Annoyance washes through him that you even wrote to him in the first place and forced this decision upon him. Letters matter little when you’ll be here in days, it’s simply a waste of time. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

It seems as if the Prince is a man of few words. You’ve gathered he has no desire to speak with you and a pit settles at the bottom of your stomach. Nerves wash through you thinking about marrying this man. You know you have no choice in the matter so you pull out a piece of parchment and begin to write out your requests. 

You look over the parchment nodding to yourself before sealing it and sending it off with a raven. As you walk down the stairs you slow, thinking how this will be your last time doing so. Your last afternoon in the gardens of your childhood. Your last night in your bed in your home. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

This morning Aemond makes his way directly to the maester to receive the parchment he knows he received. The maester opens the door with a smile and places the roll in his hand. He turns on his heel and returns to his chamber to read over your requests privately. 

~

Aemond Targaryen, 

I see. All that I request is access to the library and garden. 

~

He has read over your fifteen words exactly that many times. His brow furrows and he has a strange feeling in his chest at your short reply. He clenches his jaw and tosses the parchment on top of the other two and pours himself a small cup of wine. Of course you would have access to those things. Do you think you’re his prisoner? Maybe being betrothed to him was like being a prisoner. He knows when you finally see him you’ll think that. 

He shakes his head and finishes the wine before walking back over to your three letters. His eye scans over them, all the while his anger begins to slowly rise. Snatching up the parchments he walks over to the hearth prepared to burn them until he hesitates. He groans and opens the drawer on his side table and shoves them in before slamming it shut. He storms out of his chambers to go lose himself to his training once more. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Aemond flares his nostrils as his mother fusses over his doublet. He bats her hands away and she gives him a warning look. He hears the doors start to groan open and his mother turns and stands with a straight back next to him. Aemond scans over every person who steps foot through the doors wondering if he’ll be able to know who you are. 

You tell yourself you’re going to keep your eyes on the ground so you don’t lose your nerve. Not that you had any nerve to begin with. You were terrified to meet Aemond and had no desire to meet him for the first time in a room full of people. Despite everything when you step into the hall your eyes snap up and you know exactly who he is. 

You look directly at him and he’s already staring at you. You watch as his eye scans you over before he raises his chin and looks away. You feel your cheeks flush as you continue to walk deeper into the hall. He watches from the corner of his eye as your skirts trail behind you as you come to stand across from him. He can feel you staring at him and he slowly turns his attention back to you. 

You look up at him and shrink under his gaze as his head slowly turns back to you. Gods, he’s so intimidating. There’s a small frown on his face as he turns his gaze away from you once more. You smooth your skirts and try to focus on the words being spoken but all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. 

His mind is filled with the picture of how nervous you look. Your cheeks are flushed and you can barely look at him. Your hands are clasped in front of you as you keep your head down. He continues to steal glances at you until his mother elbows him and he glares down at her. 

“What?” he hisses before noting how the hall is quiet. 

“Ask to take her to the gardens.” she says through her teeth. Gods right now? He looks at you and sees you chewing on your lower lip and sighs. He clears his throat and steps forward. 

“Would you like to walk through the gardens?” your eyes snap up to him at his soft voice. You nod once and he offers you his arm. He watches you stare at his outstretched arm and clenches his jaw as the second tick by. “May I escort you?” he tries to subtly prompt. 

“Oh, yes, of course.” you mutter lightly grabbing onto his arm. 

He leads you out to the garden and you both walk in a heavy silence. You have no idea what to say and you can see him clenching his jaw tightly. He catches every small change of expression on your face. Your eyes widen as you walk into the gardens taking in their grandeur. Your mouth opens and he thinks you’re going to finally speak but then you snap it shut the next second. 

Aemond doesn’t know what to say so he continues to silently lead you down the stone path. You take mental notes of flowers and small alcoves you plan on visiting on your own and keep pace with him hoping for this walk to end. You wish to see your chambers and settle after your travels. You can tell Aemond would rather be anywhere else than with you at the moment you try to hurry your pace. 

Aemond furrows his brow at your sudden hurried steps. Why were you walking faster than before? Had you hated your walk that much? Sure it was quiet but you had requested the gardens in your letter. Maybe you hadn’t wanted to be here with him. He knew you didn’t want to be here with him. He lets go of your arm and he watches your steps falter before you continue at his side with your hands held together. 

Your face heats so thoroughly and you feel tears well in your eyes when he releases your arm. Embarrassment washes through you for holding onto his arm as long as you did. Surely you should’ve let go long before that. Maybe that’s why he was so quiet. You shake your head and wipe at your eyes as subtly as you can, willing the tears to just disappear. 

Aemond hears your sniffle before you even wipe at your eyes. His mind races trying to figure out what’s wrong and why you're crying. You must loathe the idea of having to marry him. He doesn’t know what to do so he keeps walking and looking ahead. You shake your head softly and square your shoulders as if nothing happened and continue the silent walk. 

By the time the both of you walk back into the Keep you have your composure once more. A flock of handmaidens come to your side once at the main steps and whisk you away from Aemond much to your relief. You wonder if you should’ve said goodbye but he made no attempt to say anything so neither did you. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Aemond slams his sword down onto his opponent's blade feeling the man’s hold begin to waver. You left him in the hall without saying anything or even looking back at him. He couldn't blame you. He’s sure you're disappointed in him. You surely expected a Prince who is beautiful and gallant and you received him. He pulls his sword back to jab it at the man and he falls to the ground. Aemond looks down at him unimpressed before leaving the man in the dirt and stalking out of the yard. 

As he walks back into the Keep he spots you walking down the stairs at his mothers side. Your eyes catch on him before you quickly look away with red cheeks. He glances at his mother who is smiling at him and he groans knowing this will be no good. 

“Aemond.” she hums softly. “I was just talking about you.” his eye narrows at her and she smiles. “I was telling her how much you love the library and if anyone could show her around them it would be you.” she gives him a pointed look. 

“Or one of the maesters who work within the walls.” he mutters. 

“Nonsense.” she shakes her head. “You’re there daily.” he exhales loudly at her words and slides his eye to you. 

“When do you want to see the library?” he watches your eyes look up at him and when he thinks you’re about to speak his mother does. 

“Now.” she nods. “Then I’ll have lunch prepared for the both of you.” she smiles offering you a gentle squeeze on your arm before she leaves you with Aemond. 

“Do you truly wish to see the library?” he looks down at you. 

“If it’s not too much trouble.” your voice small. 

“This way then.” he starts down the hall not checking if you’re following or not. 

You stare after him walking down the hall before you start to follow after him. Your steps are quick until you’re at his side and he’s looking down at you. You don’t acknowledge his stare and instead take in your surroundings excited for when you’re settled and have more time to explore. As you round the next corner your face smashes into a chest. 

“Is this your betrothed, brother?” Aemond clenches his jaw as Aegon's hands hold on to your arms to steady you. “You’re quite beautiful.” you blush at his words. 

“Thank you, my King.” you whisper and he chuckles. 

“You can call me Aegon.” he brushes his fingers against your cheek. 

“Well if you’ll excuse us, Aegon.” Aemond grits out through his teeth. 

“Oh yes, the library cannot wait.” Aegon chuckles and continues on down the hall. “Lovely to meet you.” he tosses over his shoulder. 

Aemond is rigid beside you and you watch him inhale deeply, closing his eye. You go to place your hand on his arm in comfort but then remember the garden walk and bring your hand back to your side. When he opens his eye he sees you looking up at him before quickly averting your gaze. You bring your eyes down to your nails, finding them suddenly interesting. 

“This way to the library.” his words clipped as he starts down the hallway leaving you yet again to trail after him. 

You catch up to his side once more and stop with him in front of a set of massive doors. You crane your head up to the ceilings taking in the detail of the wood. Aemond watches you look at the doors in wonder and when a maester pushes the door open he hears the soft gasp from you. You peer inside before the door clicks shut again and take a tentative step towards the doorway. 

“Can we go in?” you turn and look up at him. 

“Is that not why I brought you here?” he watches your smile falter at his words and he sighs pushing the doors open for you. You step in and your eyes dance across all of the shelves. “I’ll tell a maester you're here and to help if you need.” he nods his head and leaves you. 

You watch as he walks over to a man in a cream robe curled over a desk. They exchange hushed words and the man glances your way before looking back up at Aemond. He shakes his head and stalks out of the library and the doors click shut behind him. Were you supposed to follow him? You thought he was going to show you around, that’s the impression his mother had given you. You shake the thoughts out of your head and begin at the first shelf. You go to grab a book from the shelf and the man in the cream robe is on his feet instantly. 

“This is the maesters section.” he lightly takes the book from your hands and places it back on the shelf. “Might I point you in the direction of something more comely for a lady such as yourself.”

“Oh,” you look at the ground, feeling your cheeks heat. “I’m sorry. I-“ you shake your head, wanting to flee. 

“No need to apologize.” his words are soft. “Come. Upstairs is where we house our more interesting stories.” he smiles and you feel your shoulders begin to relax. 

“Thank you. I would appreciate that greatly.” you nod once and begin to follow him. 

“Is there a particular story you were in search of?” he leads you over to the stone steps. 

You tell him of the story you were reading before you left home. You couldn’t quite remember the name but you gave him basic details and he leads you into a smaller section by the windows. You take in the plush couches and chairs and within seconds a couple servants are coming out and lighting candles for you and offering to bring you tea. 

“These shelves contain stories of such nature.” he smiles, pulling a book down. “I believe this to be the paired book to the one you were explaining.” he places it delicately in your hands. 

“They’ve made a second?” you smile opening the cover. “Could I borrow this from the library?” your eyes dart around all the shelves. 

“But of course.” he nods. “I’ll leave you to read. Your tea should be to you momentarily. Is there anything else I could assist you with?” you chew your lip wondering whether to inquire about Aemond or not. 

“Did he say he was coming back?” you want him to come back and stay away all the same. 

“He did not say.” he averts his eyes.

“Then that is all.” you nod letting your smile reappear. “Thank you again, maester.” he nods to you and makes his way back down the stairs. 

You take your book and curl up in the chair near the window. The sheer size of the library could have you lost and you’ve never been more thankful for an escape. A servant rushes over with a cup of tea before leaving you once more. You open your book and allow yourself to relax back against the chair as you start on the prologue. For the next couple of hours you immerse yourself into the fairytale that offers you promises and thoughts of sweet Princes who will kiss your hand and talk with you for hours in the garden. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

The past two days Aemond shared maybe a total of twenty words with you and that is generous. He mostly just hums and nods his head before disappearing until you both have to share a meal. Tonight his mother has prepared a dinner for the both of you in the gardens in hopes that you will start to warm up to one another. 

Aemond looks down at his mother as she picks out a new jerkin for him to wear tonight. He flares his nostrils at every suggestion and his patience is wearing thin, if he had any to begin with. When she tells him to leave his dagger behind he shakes his head once and escorts her out of his chambers. 

“You are to receive her from her chambers within-

“Yes. I’m aware.” he sighs and clicks his door shut quickly. 

Aemond kicks all of the servants and handmaidens out of his chambers with a few clipped words. He walks over to his window and stares across the bay, slowly shutting his eye. He tries to calm his mind before your shared meal. It’s not the first and he’s accepted it is nowhere near your last. He digs his fingers into the stone ledge before turning and stalking over to his door. 

The halls are dim and full of low chatter that he ignores as he starts down the next hall. With every step he can just picture the horror on your face at having to sit across from him. He grips the hilt of his dagger, the coarse leather offering him a semblance of comfort. He slows his steps as he stops in front of your doors and brings his fist up to knock. You open the door quickly and tilt your head to look up at him. 

“Good evening, my Prince.” you try to offer him a smile but lose your nerve and look down. 

“Are you ready for supper?” he watches you look back into your chambers. 

“Do you know if it’s cold? Should I bring a shawl?” you nibble your lip bringing his attention to your mouth. 

“Do you not have windows of your own?” he watches you shrink in on yourself and begins to feel his chest tighten. Is this guilt? For what? “I’ll wait here while you get your shawl.” his soft words equally surprise you both. 

You nod your head once and shuffle over to your wardrobe pulling out the piece of fabric. He rolls his eye at the fact you think that would ever keep the cold away but when he watches you wrap it around your shoulders he stiffens. He pushes the thought out of his head as you walk back over to him. 

“Are you ready?” he offers you his arm and you feel your heart stop. 

He watches you stare at his arm and he clenches his jaw giving you three more- your hand grabs onto his forearm. He shuts your chamber door and begins to escort you down the hall. As you walk down the steps you feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you and you scoot a fraction of an inch closer to him. You know people won’t approach him so maybe if you cling to him you’ll both be left alone. 

He feels his chest swell when you dig your fingers into his arm and practically curl into his side. He looks down at you and sees you staring at the floor. He lifts his head back up and the people staring at the both of you quickly avert their attention. He leads you out of the main doors and starts towards the gardens. Your grip loosens once there’s a lack of people and he understands. 

“I’m sorry.” you mumble letting go of his arm and he frowns. “I know I shouldn’t hold on to you for so long. I just.. I don’t know. Forgive me, my Prince.” you shake your head and he stops and you take a couple more steps before turning to him. 

“Why shouldn’t you hold on to my arm?” he studies your face as it flushes. 

“Because you don’t like it. The first day in the gardens you let go and.. It was foolish of me. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined the evening.” your face starts to get hot and you feel your eyes welling with tears. When you look up at him with glassy eyes he feels something strange in his chest. “If you want me to go back to my chambers I’ll understand.” you quickly wipe at your eyes. 

He mulls over your words trying to make sense of them. You’re crying because you want to hold onto his arm and are nervous that he’ll send you away for wanting to do so. He shakes his head softly, deciding to think more on that later but right now he just wants you to stop crying and looking at him as if he scolded you. 

“Would you like to dine in the gardens?” he watches you nod your head once and he lets out a small puff of breath. “And would you like to hold onto my arm?” he watches you look to his arm and up to him and give him a small nod. “Then may I escort you to our table?” he holds his arm out for you and you look up at him in question. 

You reach out for his arm half expecting him to chuckle and turn on his heel and leave but instead he steps closer. He starts to lead you through the gardens once more and for the first time the silence isn’t so stifling. There is still tension but nowhere near as much the first time in the gardens. He leads you to the small gazebo lit with hundreds of candles and at the table he pulls your chair out for you. You mumble out a thanks and he nods once before taking his seat across from you. 

Servants surround the tables once you’re both settled and begin filling glasses and bringing out food. Aemond watches as you thank each servant softly before they leave the two of you. You feel his gaze yet make no move to meet it as you pick up your wine. Your eyes quickly flick to him and he averts his gaze first. He picks up his cup in place of starting the conversation he so badly wants to have secretly hoping you’ll talk first. 

As the minutes tick by the silence becomes heavier as the meal goes on. You steal glances at each other but neither of you are willing to speak. Your mind is still back at the garden's entrance when he offered you his arm once more. Something seems to have slightly shifted but you’re too scared to speak on it, nervous that it will go back to how it was before. 

Aemond watches your brow furrow and unfurrow throughout the course of the meal and he wishes you would just tell him what you’re thinking. He doesn’t want to ask, nervous that you’ll start crying once more. It wasn’t his intention to upset you, he just assumed you were upset because of him. Well you were upset with him but for completely different reasons than he had thought. 

After the meal he walks to your side of the table and offers you his arm. You look up at him and offer him a smile while placing your hand around his forearm. He walks you back to your chambers in silence once more and you both linger outside of your chambers, both wanting to say something but having no idea what to say. 

“Thank you for dining with me tonight, my Prince.” you nod your head and go to turn into your chambers. 

“Aemond.” your hand stops on the metal handle as his voice. You look over your shoulder at him with scrunched brows. “I’d prefer it if you called me Aemond.” he nods. 

“Have a good night, Aemond.” you smile softly at him before sealing yourself inside your chambers. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

next chap tomorrow i promise x

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[yelenasdiary]

can I request a fluffy beach date with Wanda drabble? I love your work 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Drabble || Beach Date

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Summary: Wanda whisks you away for a long awaited day off.

Fluff

Warnings: This is not proof read or corrected! | 0.6K

AC: Thank you for sending this! It made me miss summer even more than I do now haha! I hope you enjoy x

The windows were down, Wanda's hair was flying freely with the wind as she pulled up to the parking lot of the beach. The weather was perfect, not too hot but just warm enough to let the sun kindly kiss your sunscreen protected skin.

The day came as a surprise, Wanda had woken you up with a light breakfast in bed and the car already packed and ready for the two hour drive. You had been really diving yourself into your work which worried Wanda a little but she trusted that you wouldn't wear yourself out but she wanted to make sure you would take time for yourself aswell. She peeped at your work roaster and planned when the best time for his surprise date would take place.

"I'm surprised it's not too busy" you said, closing the passenger door.

"Don't jinx it!" Wanda chuckled as she popped open the trunk of the car. She grabbed a couple of bags, while you helped her with the rest. You set up the small beach tent before Wanda placed plenty of throw pillows and a few blankets inside for comfort.

"The water look so nice" you commented, taking off your flip flops and placing them inside the tent, "are you coming?" you asked before taking off your shirt and bottoms, your swimsuit underneath.

Pulling her t-shirt over her head, she smiled, "last one in is a rotten egg!" she chuckled before racing off towards the water.

"You little cheat!" you called out before running after her.

The water was cool, refreshing on your ankles as you just caught up to Wanda, wrapping your warms around her waist and tackling her into the water. She squealed at the slight coldness of the water touching the rest of her body as she turned in your arms and wrapping her arms around the back of your neck. "You're such a sore loser" she said.

"Only when you cheat!" you replied before kissing her softly.

"Hey, if cheating gets me kisses, then I guess it isn't so bad" she playfully winked as you gently pulled her closer. You chuckled at her words, "I'll kiss you anytime you want" you said before kissing her softly once more.

----

After a long and relaxing swim, you and Wanda made bets on who could build the best sandcastle, of course one of the main rules was Wanda wasn't allowed to use her magic but you were sure she used it once or twice.

After that, you were cuddling comfortably in the small tent, Wanda had a book in her hand while she rested gently against your chest as you watched the sun begin to set.

Freshly cut slices of your favourite fruit was lightly picked at as you admired the view and the relaxing sound of waves crashing on the shoreline. Every now and then Wanda would turn the page of her book which would bring your attention back to her.

You placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, causing her to smile softly, "how's your book baby?" you asked.

"It's interesting" she replied softly, "a few good plot twists" she added.

Carefully, you took the book from Wanda's hands causing her to look up at you as you smiled softly at her, "I think I can come up with a better plot twist" you said, pecking the tip of her nose which always made her chuckle. "I hope the plot twist is you driving home so I can have a nap in the car" she said.

"I knew there was a catch to this date" you laughed.

"Not for me, I already caught my date" Wanda playfully chuckled.

"Your jokes are so bad, you know that right?" you replied

"As if they don't make you love me even more"

"You got that right" you smiled before Wanda turned in your warms once more, kissing you deeply.

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[myonexox]

Enhypen Heeseung Oneshot

pairing : boyfriend!heeseung x female!reader

pov : you're on your period, craving chocolate at 2 am and your boyfriend drags himself out of bed to get it for you

it was 2 am. you had been peacefully sleeping until the sudden and undeniable craving hit. chocolate. not just any chocolate but the rich, creamy kind that melts in your mouth and leaves you feeling like you’ve just tasted a piece of heaven.

you tossed and turned for a few moments, trying to ignore it but the craving only grew stronger. sighing in defeat, you turned toward heeseung, your boyfriend who was sleeping soundly beside you. his soft snores and the gentle rise and fall of his chest made you feel a twinge of guilt. but the craving was relentless and you knew there was only one person who could help you.

you nudged him gently at first, whispering “heeseung...”

he stirred but didn’t open his eyes. you nudged him again, a little firmer this time. “heeseung, wake up”

his eyes cracked open and he groaned softly. “hm what… what is it?” he mumbled.

“i need chocolate” you said.

he blinked at you, clearly trying to process your words through his half-asleep haze. “chocolate? at this hour?”

you nodded. “yes. i can’t sleep without it. please, can you go get some for me?”

he groaned again, rolling onto his back and rubbing his face with his hands. “can’t it wait until morning?” he asked. “i’ll buy you all the chocolate you want tomorrow”

“no” you said firmly, shaking your head. “i need it now. please? i’ll never ask for anything again”

he sighed heavily, clearly debating his options. but he knew you well enough to understand that once you’d made up your mind, there was no changing it. plus, he knew you were on your period now so if he didn't get you what you want, you would be upset with him for weeks. reluctantly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, dragging himself into a sitting position. “you’re lucky i love you, you know” he muttered, his tone grumpy but affectionate.

you beamed at him, your earlier guilt melting away. “thank you heeseung! you’re the best”

still half-asleep, he shuffled to grab a hoodie and his wallet. his eyes were barely open as he pulled on his shoes. “stay here, don't go anywhere” he said. “i’ll be back soon”

“okay, be careful!” you called after him, your heart swelling with affection.

the minutes felt like hours as you waited, your craving growing stronger with every passing second. you paced the room, imagining all the delicious chocolate heeseung would bring back. finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing.

heeseung appeared in the doorway, holding a plastic bag in one hand and looking like he’d just run a marathon.

“here” he said, handing you the bag. “a whole bag of chocolate. you better not wake me up again”

you took the bag eagerly, your face lighting up as you peeked inside. it was filled with an assortment of chocolates from your favorite bars to some smaller treats you hadn’t tried before. “thank you heeseung. i love you so much!” you said, throwing your arms around him in a hug.

he grumbled something under his breath but hugged you back. “love you too baby” he said softly.

you pulled back, already tearing open one of the chocolate bars. the first bite was pure bliss and you let out a satisfied sigh. “this is perfect. you’re perfect!” you said, your words muffled by the chocolate in your mouth.

he chuckled, his grumpiness fading as he watched you. “i’m glad you’re happy. now, can i go back to sleep?”

“of course” you said, nodding. “thank you again. you’re my hero!”

he shook his head with a small smile, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “goodnight, my chocolate-obsessed princess” he said teasingly.

[despressoslatte]

not the zoey you wanted (seven)

pairing: zach maclaren x female reader!

summary: you waited all weekend for your boyfriend, Zach, to call or text, anything, to explain why he had just went and ghosted you when you were supposed to go with him on a family ski trip to meet his parents, his sister Avery, and his cousin, Miles.

content warnings: angst; victims of catfishing; miscommunication trope

a/n: so so sorry this came so late!! First it was the holidays, then near year, and then LA is (still) on fire and I live right by the Eaton fire soo…. Anywho here’s more of our fav Zach & Y/N!!

Masterlist | <  part six | waitlist is closed

ᯓ⟢

“Go on a ski trip with me.”

“What?”

Not what you were expecting to hear when you had texted Zach asking if he had time to talk. You stood outside of his apartment, and when he swung the door open, you didn’t even get the chance to get a single word in before he was asking you to go on a ski trip with him. You were going to ask him if he was busy this weekend, but it appears he was. And that he wanted you to be busy with him.

“Go on a ski trip with me,” he repeated, a small little smile on his face and that little chuckle of his following.

“That went horribly the last time you asked me that, Zach,” you softly shook your head, but the way he was smiling made it impossible not to smile back.

“This weekend… we’ll go, we’ll have a do-over,” he implored you, reaching out to grab your hands, determination inked into every line on his face. “You and me.”

A ski trip… just you and him? You wouldn’t loved going with his family, getting to meet all of them finally, but of course, that went horribly the last time it was attempted. But Bree was right that you and him needed to figure things out, the two of you. You just needed to know that it really was you he wanted, unable to get the thought of him falling for Zoey out of your head no matter how many times you’d tried.

Probably didn’t help that you had to sadly see her everyday.

Yeah, maybe a break from campus and just some time with Zach would make this better. Maybe taking time to think is why you keep thinking the worst.

“That sounds like a lot of money…” you said back.

He squinted his eyes at you, letting out an exasperated, “Wh-wha… that… that’s your main concern right now?” 

“I did buy some new snow gear that would go to waste if we didn’t go…” you trail off, holding his hands back and squeezing.

But his small smile got bigger when he heard thta. “...Ski trip…?”

“Fine,” you whispered, nodding your head. “Ski trip.”

He tugged you in for a hug, the two of you still standing halfway in and out of his apartment, before he even remembered why you were there.

“What did you wanna talk to me about?” he asked, pulling away from you.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go out this weekend, but you sprung this whole ski trip thingy on me instead…” you shrugged playfully, and he just chuckled.

“You were gonna ask me on a date?” he teased.

“To get coffee…” you exaggerated the word with a roll of your eyes.

“Coffee dates have always been your favorite, baby,” he pointed out. “You can take me out to coffee before we head out, how’s that sound?”

“Who I’m taking you out for said coffee?”

“You were the one who asked me out.”

“You got jokes tonight, MacLaren,” you pointed out.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tucking you in under his chest and letting out a sigh of relief. “Gotta remind you of all my good qualities if Imma get my girl back.”

ᯓ⟢

You opened the passenger seat to Zach’s car as he waited on the street in front of your building, throwing your weekend bag into the backseat, and then you glanced down at the cup holder’s of his car.

Your favorite drink from your favorite coffee shop sat there next to his and two toasted croissants, a cute little pick up line written on the lid of yours.

Something he used to do pretty often.

“I thought I was taking you out for coffee?” you teased him as you picked up the cup to take a sip.

“Maybe when we’re at the ski lodge,” he shrugged as he pulled back onto the street, only glancing at you for a second before looking solely on the street. “Wanted to see that look on your face again.”

“What look?” you asked.

“The one when you’re reading the new note on the lid,” he shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. Zach MacLaren was anything but nonchalantly. The grin he could never get down was proof of it.

“Wait, so… we’re staying at the actual ski lodge?” you asked as one of your favorite songs started playing softly in the background.

He was playing his Y/N Playlist. Oh, how this boy is pulling out all the stops for you.

“Yeah, I thought you’d prefer being able to crash after and not have to sit through a drive back if I rented a cabin, plus the room being on the third floor so that means you get all your cute little views,” he nodded, looking at you when he stopped at a red light. “Why, did you not want to?”

“No, that sounds lovely,” you said with a soft shake of your head.

And you definitely didn’t want to be staying at the cabin that he caught feelings for Zoey at. 

You pick up one of the croissants, pulling back the little wrapping bag over it, but hold it out towards Zach. With most of his attention on the road but the tiniest bit of his periphery on you, he leaned over to be able to take a bite. You laughed when the flakes got all over his cheek.

And it felt nice. Right. Like being in his passenger seat laughing is where you should always be.

About two and a half hours until the ski lodge, you noted when you looked down at his GPS. Two and a half hours of just you and Zach, and then a whole weekend of just you and Zach.

You liked it when it was just you and Zach.

ᯓ⟢i will be putting the taglit in the replies from now on hoping that works better! please let me know if it did or didn't tag you <3

[satangcrush]

ghost

mammon x g!n reader, sfw, not beta-read

summary: Picking up money and accidentally getting married to a ghost, uhhh belphie and satan makes an appearance here cw: mc is a ghost and mammon is a dumbass an: this is based on a chinese tradition that i dug out from the depth of my mind so it may not be very accurate

“That demon said that the grocery store should be ahead.” 

The blond-haired demon scowled harshly at his device, a frown marring his handsome face. His jacket flutters in the wind, pale mist surrounding the group of demons. Another one tails behind, feet dragging sluggishly as he yawns.

“Who has the list?”

The Avatar of Greed was a step behind, pausing to kick every rock spotted on the walkway. He didn’t understand why he was assigned to go grocery shopping.

He had better things to do, especially with his precious time! He could be hitting up a casino or maybe even raiding a bank right now.

Regardless, he could still be using his time to do better things.

“Are you actually pouting?” Belphegor snorted, half-lidded eyes opening wide when the rock hit his leg. He winces once, bending down to rub at his ankle. “Are you five or something?”

The last-born picks up the offending object, throwing and catching it menacingly. “Rub that stupid expression off your face and say sorry.”

He was not pouting. 

“Stop arguing.” The one at the front sighs, closing his eyes with a shake of his head. Looking weary and far beyond his years, he strides over to grab the rock from Belphegor’s palm.

“Hey–”

“–Thank you, I’ll confiscate this now.” He interrupts, leaving no room for negotiation. Grabbing onto the youngest’s arm, he drags him back to the front, leaving only the second-born behind.

Mammon hears a shushed scolding. “You don’t have to stoop to his level.”

“Hey! Ya’ know I can hear you right?!” He shouts back, voice bordering on a growl. Satan whips his head around to give him an incredulous look.

“That’s the point.”

“Hey!”

He slinks back to the back again, decidedly not wearing a pout.

Satan finally lets out a sigh of relief, continuing with his navigation after keeping his brothers in check. “I know you didn’t want to come along but we have to do this to maintain the relationship between the worlds.”

“Got it.” He groaned loudly, knuckles rubbing at the corners of his eyes hard. His vision goes dark momentarily and he fumbles forward, tripping over his steps. “You sound like Lucifer right now.”

“What’s next? Are ya’ going to tell me that Lord Diavolo is going to be disappointed, yada yada.” He straightens up, pretending to tighten his tie and lowering his tone. He wags a finger and arches an eyebrow, channeling the energy of a tired old man.

Much to his dismay, he hadn’t realised that a cloud of dark unease had surrounded his younger brother.

“I didn’t know you had a death wish,” Belphegor remarks casually, watching in amusement as the blond-haired demon stalks towards his prey.

“Eek!”

No matter how often he had seen his younger brother in this state, it still sent a chill down his spine.

“You have three seconds to run.”

Mammon didn’t even stay to hear the end of the sentence before taking off, putting on the tiniest bit of boost to ensure that he stayed out of his brother’s reach.

He slithered in and out of alleyways, doing his best to evade capture.

The flicker of gold in the middle of the street catches his eye. He hesitates mid-action before deciding to abandon his course, skidding to a stop and grabbing it before anyone could catch him.

“This is my lucky day.” He mutters under his breath, shoving the mysterious item into his pocket. He would just need to lose the mad harpy that was on his heel and thereafter, locate a safe space to break into his present.

.

One way or another, he manages to lose him.

The Avatar of Greed pants hard, hands on his knees, before he slumps to the ground. He makes sure to stay hidden, under the cover of a slide.

His heart beats fast as he slides out what he picked up earlier.

The vermilion envelope glimmers, reflecting the warmth of the afternoon sun back at his confused face. He turns it around, fingers tracing over the velvety smooth surface as he stares in awe at the gold lining.

“Gold…” He breathes out, shaking in barely controlled excitement. He has absolutely no idea why it was lying on the street but it must be Mother Luck shining down at him.

He could strike it rich with this! He just needs to cash it in and make sure to bet it on a sure-win. This would definitely be his breakout chance.

Now, all he had to do was to open it.

He trembles, fingers carefully and meticulously removing the seal on the envelope. It was strange how the seal fell apart easily but he couldn’t be bothered to overthink. He dismisses his concerns, excitedly unfurling his reward after his long patience.

A strange mist curls out, wrapping around his upper body and dimming his vision.

“Mammon.”

 He heard the tell-tale growl of an angry demon but he wasn’t able to see him. Instead, he was frozen stiff, unable to make out where the mist was coming from.

“Mammon!” A second cry comes just as something cold creeps around his chest. He starts to laugh nervously before it trails off.

“It’s nice to meet you, husband.” 

A whisper of his name and a cool exhale of his name near his ears makes him shudder. He turns his head slowly but he can only see the ghost of painted bright red lips before he lets out a scream.

“You—” He recognises that voice, growly with just the barest hint of baritone. Turning in desperation, he tries to locate him. Weirdly enough, there seemed to be a barrier around him as if to keep him in. 

The mist clears enough for him to peek through. A flash of blond hair catches his attention and he clings to the sight, whipping his head to meet the frantic eyes of his brother.

A burst of cool air sends the fourth-born flying back, slamming into the Avatar of Sloth who was a couple of steps away.

“Satan!” He shrieks, clawing at the wall of energy around him. He had to go and check on his brothers now, to see if they were okay. 

The barrier does not respond to his desperation. 

Instead, the apparition appears again, flickering in and out of focus.

“Husband, please hold on as I get rid of them.” The brightly painted lips curve up, stretching into a wide smile. It’s imprinted on the back of his eyelids when he blinks. 

Suddenly, your figure wasn’t there when he opened his eyes again.

A sense of dread fills his veins.

No, no. He can’t let this happen again.

“Wait!”

The taste of bile fills his throat as his eyes feverishly search the area for your silhouette, locating you in front of Satan. A gust of wind throws his brothers down again, and he pounds at the barrier, fear gripping him by the throat.

He has to do something.

“HEY!” He couldn’t tell if the roar in the air was the sound of the wind or his own voice but continued, scratching at the barrier, doing everything he possibly could to catch their attention.

“If I’m your husband, you can’t—”

He chokes on his words, barely registering the taste of blood in his mouth. The Avatar of Greed frantically scrambles for words, spitting out whatever that popped up in his mind.

“—Bully your brothers-in-law!”

The apparition freezes. All he could hear was the ghastly sound of wind blowing past him, and the horrifying realisation of the situation dawned on him. You turn slowly, ignoring the groans of his brothers still slumped on the ground.

This time, he sees you clearly. 

You’re wispy at the edge but he can make out the soft slope of your shoulder, the slight frown on your face. His eyes are magnetized to yours, sparkling and far too bright for what should be a ghost.

“Brothers-in-law?” You state slowly with a tilt of your head. 

He swallows, hands shaking as he brings them to his side. You glide over to where Satan lies, fading in and out of focus.

He nods when you turn to look at him for confirmation.

“We don’t look alike but we’re family.” He clarifies again, wiping at his mouth. He hadn’t even realised he had bitten his tongue, the pain only coursing through him now.

You stay silent, squatting down to survey Satan’s features closer. The blond-haired demon bares his teeth, pushing Belphegor behind him. Thankfully, it seemed that both demons hadn’t suffered any major injuries.

“Husband, you’re not lying to me?” A puff of cloud forms when you speak, blowing into Satan’s face. The fourth-born shudders, turning his head away from the sight.

“No.”

You stand up, tall and proud. For some reason, your silhouette was starting to become more distinct. He can feel that you’re fuelled by magic — it’s a gut feeling. You glow dimly, translucent in the light.

He thinks you’re ethereal and otherworldly.

“Uh, can you take this down?” With a gulp, he calls out while vaguely pointing at the space in front of him.

A whoosh of wind flew past him and the barrier was dismantled in the blink of an eye. You don’t give him an opening, moving to block his path of escape.

Gently, you move to peer closer at his face.

With your face this close, he can only focus on the flecks of gold found in your eyes and he gulps loudly again.

“Husband, you’re bound to me now.” Your laughter tinkles like wind chimes in the air. He can’t tell if he’s imagining it but you seem to grow even brighter at every pound of his heart. 

“Your magic is the one fuelling me.”

Shit.

Lucifer is going to murder him.

[neovillains]

FINDING EQUILIBRIUM · GOJO SATORU

( PLAY EPISODE 5 : CRYING ANGEL ) after you get akumatized, gojo realizes that maybe there's more harm done in what he's doing in his efforts to keep everyone he cares about safe. now, he has to make a choice that can either be for better or worse. | watch time : 5.0k words.

── chat noir!gojo satoru & akumatized!reader, angst, light violence, arguments, gojo a whiny baby, light violence, confessions.

note. thank you so much for completing season one of finding equilibrium. omg i had so much fun writing this series! im excited to get season two started up for y'all!

“Satoru!” Plagg groaned, his tiny fists balling up in a fist as Gojo was still splayed out on the bed, fast asleep and refusing to get out of bed. This was the nth day in a row that Gojo had done this, retreating himself away in his apartment any opportunity that he could and nearly being late to his classes. The supernatural feline was starting to grow tired of his antics, his small nudges no longer working and having to pull out the big ammunition to get this annoying bastard out of bed. 

Messy white hair that prickled Gojo’s forehead, Plagg swatted the strands away before his face was a mere nanometer away. Mouth opening wide, sharp fangs pointed out, Plagg was about to chomp when Gojo’s eyes finally flickered open and swatted his tiny comrade out of the way and across the room. With a thud, Plagg’s back hits the wall before he starts fluttering again. 

Gojo doesn’t say anything, just sitting up and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. Adorned in a baggy white t-shirt and black boxer briefs, he forces himself out of bed. Plagg watches, crossing his arms and glaring at his holder. “Hmph,” he frowns. “Good morning to you, too.”

Gojo only groans, standing to his feet as he trudges his way towards the bathroom, shutting the door before Plagg could follow him inside. Plagg groans at the supposed adult. Did he really choose such a dramatic and whiny individual? “Is this how you’re going to be over a girl?”

Plagg was trying to empathize. He really was, but the longer this went on, the shorter his patience became. Gojo was becoming reckless, short-tempered, and ill-fitted to be Chat Noir. If he kept this up, Plagg would have no choice but to… No, he needed to talk some sense in him. The solution was simple. Gojo would confess his true feelings to you and the two of you can both be on your merry way. Gojo would become more chirpier, meaning that he’ll actually live up to his potential as Chat Noir and overall, be happier. It was that simple. “Gojo, if you just—”

Here we go again, Gojo grunts from the other side, plastering toothpaste on his toothbrush. Eyebrows knitted in anger, he scoffs. “I’m not taking advice from a four-inch vermin.”

Plagg tried not to take offense, knowing how stupidly emotional Gojo can get, starting to spew things he didn’t mean and would only come to regret. “Maybe, you should! You wouldn’t be all miserable like you are now.”

“Oh, I know why I’m miserable,” Gojo starts, “and it’s not because of that.”

“Whatever it is,” Plagg beams, trying to stay optimistic amidst Gojo’s glum mood. “We can fix it—”

The door knob twists, the door opens as Gojo stands shirtless. Toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as he glares at Plagg. He’s been a ticking time bomb, meaning to explode. His chest heaves and his breaths shallow, he vibrates in anger. “We can’t fix anything. Actually, you can’t fix anything because you’re the very problem why everything’s broken.”

Gojo’s voice is low, but the sharpness in his tone slashes at Plagg’s chest— cat-like eyes, big and blue widening at the seering anger that reverberates from the much larger individual. “Wh–What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is that,” Gojo begins, uncaring for the harshness of his words, just needing to get this anger that’s residing on his chest. “Is that ever since you came into my life, things have gone haywire. I can’t hang out with my friends without lying, I can’t go anywhere without being late, I can’t be with the girl I like because I always have to consider you and this power you gave me!”

Voice thunderous and threatening, Gojo makes Plagg tremble, flying backwards as Gojo inches forward and a shadow casting forwards. However, Plagg clears his throat and pushes out his chest, reminding himself that the boy is only heartbroken. “You—You don’t mean that!”

“I do,” Gojo affirms. “I wish you never showed up in my life. It would be infinitely better.”

“You’re lying,” Plagg points, ignoring the stagger in his voice. “Without me, your life would be boring!”

“Without you, I would no longer have to cry!”

“I bet you couldn’t survive the day without me!”

“Oh, I know I could go on for an eternity with you gone.”

Plagg searches in his eyes, trying to find the bluff. However, there’s so much sincerity with every word as Gojo sneers at him, Plagg’s bottom lip trembles. Shoulders dropping as his tiny black body is now the one that’s sullen. Hurt casted through the entirety of him as the shine in Gojo’s blue eyes sealed the deal. He didn’t know that Gojo felt this way towards him, deeming his gift of the cat miraculous as a burden and the reason for his heartache. He knew that the name Chat Noir carried heavy weight, but all he ever wanted for Gojo was to live a happy and exuberant life outside of the akumatization of the innocent. He never meant to be the underlying factor into all of this, his heart starting to ache itself as he realizes how much of a problem he’s become.

When Plagg has nothing more to say, Gojo inches back inside of the bathroom, shutting the door with a loud thud as he finishes brushing his teeth, furiously moving the mechanical object back and forth before spitting out the minty foam into the porcelain sink. He strips out of his underwear, twisting the shower pipe on and waiting for it to heat up. When he jumps in, he shuts out the rest of the world, the hot water running down his spine and washing away his woes. He breathes out a deep sigh, his eyes shut as his white eyelashes gather fine water droplets before dripping away. Steam fogs the bathroom mirror and when he climbs out, it hides him from his horrid reflection. 

In the midst of his shower, Plagg doesn’t take refuge in his usual spot, waiting for Gojo to get ready. Instead, hiding in the desolate spot in the kitchen, far on top of the cupboards as he hears the rumbles and movement of the kid getting ready for his classes. In this glum state, Plagg lies down on the hardwood and replaces his companion’s spot, moping around the residence as Gojo doesn’t even realize of his absence when he opens the front door and slams it shut with a loud bang. 

—

The universe just doesn’t seem to be on your side recently. Sleeping past your alarms, missing a few assignments, and just finding misery in everything. The sun beats against your skin, blinding you in your venture to the main campus as you trudge on with your bag slung over your left shoulder. Scrolling through your phone, your heart palpitates as you check your schedule and to-do lists. Luckily, you don’t have an hour and a half to spare before your next class, giving you ample time to stop by the library and hopefully catch up on a few things that you’re behind on. 

You drop your bag down, pulling your laptop from it when you receive a notification on your smart watch. Your grade on your recent assignment, a low C teetering on the line of a ‘D’. Plopping yourself down in the chair, tears seeping down your face as the stress becomes overbearing. All of your emotions become so overpowering as you start dwelling on everything. Your mind dwindles to last week and asking Gojo out, how that simple action had seemed to cause such rippling effects in such a short period of time. The two of you had been avoiding each other, Gojo no longer waking up in the early hours of the morning to strike up conversation when you have to feed Misty-Mint. He’s returned to his typical schedule prior to knowing that the both of you were neighbors, no longer seeking you out in the classes you share. When you do spot him, he’s with Geto and Shoko, and the two of them seem sympathetic, always giving you a small wave before Gojo notices.

You can’t seem to understand why you’re so fixated on him— why he won’t just leave your mind and let you get on with your life. You were too hasty, falling for what you’re calling “fleeting” emotions. A guy that gave you an ounce of attention. He gave you an inch and you took a mile. Stupid, you felt so utterly and completely stupid. You hide your face in your hands, silently sobbing to yourself when you feel something tickle against your skin. 

“Aw, my poor child,” a deep voice echoes inside your brain, calling you from moments of despair. “Heartbreak eating at your bones? Someone that you believed to reciprocate your feelings, only seeming to let you down. Now it seems like nothing in your life is going your way. Don’t you just want it to stop?

“Don’t you want your revenge? To make him pay?” The dark voice eggs you on, making those tears dry up on your face as you nod faintly, a weak ‘yes’ falling from your lips in a mere croak. “Good. Exact your revenge my Crying Angel, and teach that guy a lesson.”

The akuma butterfly embeds itself to you, transforming your simple attire to an all-white gown and white feathers start fluttering on the sides, gigantic wings that cast a large shadow. Bystanders that watch in amazement, an akumatized villain never looking so ethereal until you. Huge wings that knock everything in its path, their starstruck vision is blinded when they remember the dangers, especially when they’re in your eye sight. And when they try to look away, it’s like they’re frozen in time. Unable to move a muscle, they’re stiff in fear while every move you take is striking. 

Every human being that you run across is frozen in place the moment they make eye contact with you, creating living statues before casting yourself in the air, wings that make you skyrocket as they flap graciously. Hawk Moth continues feeding into your sorrows, reminding you of every reason that you need to exact your revenge until the moment you land on the doorsteps of Gojo’s apartment. You had the majority of his schedule memorized to know that he’s usually on his way home around this time, breaking into his apartment with ease as you send the door flying with a loud crash. So loud that it startles Plagg from his nap, making him jump up in fright and hitting his head on the ceiling. The disoriented kwami blinks frantically before his vision clears, trying to decipher what exactly is that ruckus. “Gojo, is that you?”

“Who is that?” a familiar voice sounds out instead of who Plagg was expecting. His eyes widen, hearing heavy footsteps that start lurking towards the kitchen. He huddles low, keeping himself hidden on top of the cupboards as he tries to get a good peek out. A villain, he gasps— dressed in all white and gorgeous wings that nearly has him hypnotized. “Where are you? I know someone’s here! Where’s Gojo? Him and I, we… We need to speak!”

Plagg couldn’t pinpoint how he knew that voice, only that it sounded familiar. It isn’t until you turn around, nearly meeting your eyes before he’s ducking down completely in hopes to stay concealed that he realizes that it’s you. Plagg’s eyes widen as his heart starts pounding against his chest. Pity then falls upon him as it dawns on him that you must be going after Gojo because of his rejection. However, that sympathy disappears. You’re after Gojo.

Heart beating against his chest, Plagg has to wait until you’ve given up, footsteps heading outside of the kitchen before he’s jumping back up. He’s no longer worrying about his disagreement with the boy who had hurt his feelings. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass about that. No, he just wanted to make sure that his best friend was safe. Floating in the sky, Plagg has to be careful as he peeks out from the corner, finding you nowhere in the dining area nor the living room. The door is wide open and from afar, he can hear you checking for the bedrooms. Now’s the time, he figures. He has to get away now before he’s caught.

Racing as fast as his little body takes him, the kwami doesn’t look back. Hurdling out of the door before racing right in the direction of Gojo. He should be heading home soon, he tells himself. I need to get to him before you do. 

Plagg makes sure to keep himself concealed as best as he possibly can. However, with every person he’s come across, he realizes something. They’re frozen in place. He pauses for a second, coming to realize that this must be your power, freezing people in time. “Oh no…” Plagg groans, quickening up his movements as he realizes how detrimental this has just become. “I really really need to get to Gojo first.”

—

Gojo decided that he was no longer going to wallow in self-pity. After his classes for the day, he messaged Shoko and Geto to meet up with him just so he wouldn’t have to go back to his apartment. With free schedules themselves, they agreed to spend the rest of the day together, all deciding to meet up at the courtyard before heading out. Gojo had no plans or any idea on what they could do, but he’d find the nearest place that seemed interesting and spend the rest of the evening there. Cooped up in a small arcade, all the games vintage, he’s stuck at a pinball machine. The tip of his tongue sticking out as he stares down at the device in pure concentration. Eyebrows furrowed as he stood hunched over, making sure to click the buttons at the right time. 

So absorbed in the game, he doesn’t notice when Geto’s standing over him. Typical dark and baggy clothes on him with his hands shoved inside his pockets. Head tilted, he watches his friend in curiosity, eyebrows furrowed as he wonders how long his best friend is going to keep this up— avoiding his problems, that is. “Are you done?”

“Nope,” Gojo says. “I gotta beat this time to win.” 

Geto rolls his eyes, knowing that while Gojo’s deflecting, he’s also serious in the same breath. “Gojo, I’m serious. When are you going to stop?”

“When I beat this time,” Gojo grits his teeth. With a huff, Geto finally interjects, batting Gojo’s hands away and triggering the boy to nudge at him. They begin to bicker, Gojo whining as he tries pushing Geto back. However, Geto ultimately wins when the metallic ball falls into the hole, Gojo missing the time by ten minutes. He slams his fist on the glass, nearly cracking it before facing Geto. “What the fuck, man?”

“What’s gotten into you?” Geto asks, unfazed by his outburst. “When are you gonna stop running from every little problem you face and stop being a baby?”

For a mere second, Gojo’s eyes widen before he plays into his facade, playing nonchalant and shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, real smooth,” Geto snorted, crossing his arms. “Where is she, huh? Where’s (Y/N)?”

Gojo’s body immediately stiffens, halting his breath at the mention of your name. “I don’t know—”

“Stop playing games with me, Satoru, and be truthful,” Geto groans, tired of these games now. “Shoko and I both know you like her, and it’s obvious that something happened. You do this all the time. Whenever something comes up and you don’t want to face it, you hide from them and wallow in self-pity, trying to feign as if everything is alright, but it’s not.”

Gojo sighs, shutting his eyes. “She confessed her feelings to me, and…”

“You said no because you’re Chat Noir?”

“Yes, and I really wanted to say yes, but I got flustered and— wait, what?” Geto snorts, not even caring for revealing that he revealed that he knew of his friend’s secret identity. 

“Yeah,” he nods. “It was so obvious. It didn’t take us long before we realized. Shoko didn’t want to believe it at first, but the similarities are so uncanny.”

“Oh…” Gojo breathes, shoulders slumping as he tries to reflect on everything. Geto pats his shoulders, giving his friend a tight-lipped smile. “Don’t feel stupid. If it makes you feel better. Everyone else is clueless. I don’t think people are expecting to be standing next to thee Chat Noir on a regular basis.”

Gojo’s really grateful no one is around to hear the conversation, eyes flickering over in the instilled paranoia nonetheless. He shrugs off Geto’s hand before leaning against the pinball machine. He sighs. “Yeah, well, the job is tiring and I didn’t want to have to lie to someone else because of it.”

“I can’t say I understand what you’re going through,” Geto exhales. “I can only say I empathize because of the million and one superhero movies I've watched. But, I’ll tell you this—” Geto pokes Gojo in his chest, giving him a pointed look. “—From what I’ve learned from these movies is that sometimes pushing the people you love and care about away only puts them in more danger. You might think that what you’re doing now is saving them, but later on, it’ll only bite you in the ass.”

Gojo doesn’t know that Geto’s piece of advice is something for present time until he finds himself standing outside of the arcade, the sun hiding behind the clouds before he hears the sound of his name being shouted in a low voice, Gojo! Gojo! Gojooooo! Turning his head from left to right, and from right to left, before he spots a cat-like kwami heading his way. “Plagg?!”

Gojo snatches the kwami from being so out in the open, dragging him into a secluded corner before opening his hands. “Plagg, what’re you doing out in the open? You could’ve been caught!”

“Well, after someone said that they didn’t need me in their life, I decided to stay home!” Plagg pouts, crossing his arms as he remembers their earlier squabble. Gojo recalls the current of events before his mouth turns into an ‘O,’ guilt running through him as he shouldn’t have let his emotions take control so easily. 

“Plagg, I’m so—”

“There’s no time to apologize,” Plagg interjects, remembering the entire reason he risked showing his true identity out in the light. “(Y/N)’s been akumatized! A very pretty villain, might I add— but she’s been akumatized!”

“What? How?”

“I’m guessing you,” Plagg shrugged. “She broke into your apartment on the hunt for you!”

“Shit,” Gojo curses, knowing that this was all his fault in the first place. If he wasn’t so scared of hurting you and jeopardizing something that’s never happened, you wouldn’t be in this entire mess right now. 

“Yeah,” Plagg nods vigorously. “We have to go and stop her, now!”

He motions for Gojo to follow him before stopping, remembering one vital piece of information. “Before you transform, you need to know that you can’t look her in the eyes. Her power is that she’s able to freeze you in time. One look in her eye and you’re done for!”

“How am I going to stop her then?” Gojo furrows his eyebrows, not seeing how he could possibly defeat someone you couldn’t look at. However, the longer the two of you stall like this, the more victims that fall into your trap. Plagg shrugs, “You’ll have to do it blindfolded then. Let’s go before she freezes the whole city trying to get to you!”

—

Gojo and the kwami spot you where it all started in the library. By this time on his regular schedule, Gojo would’ve found himself here, either with you or Geto and Shoko. He finds it slightly endearing that you had taken the time to memorize his schedule, but in a moment like this, he shouldn’t. 

“Remember the plan,” Plagg reminds Gojo, bringing him back on track as they stand outside of the building behind an alleyway. “Follow the sound of her voice. Trust your cat instincts and the staff. They’ll guide the way.”

“This plan sucks,” Gojo says in a hushed voice, anxiety coursing through his veins. He’s always had confidence in his abilities, but to run inside blindfolded? This was a disaster waiting to happen. Gojo doesn’t understand how Plagg has so much faith in this ill-devised plan.

“Well, it’s the only one that we’ve got,” Plagg groans, nudging the boy to transform. The longer this goes on, the more people you lead in danger. “Stop wasting time!”

“Fine!” Gojo huffs, before standing tall. He shimmies and shakes out all the nerves that run through him, speaking affirmations in his head and telling himself that this will all work out in the end. Rubbing the silver ring on his right index finger, Gojo stammers out, “Uh… Claws out?”

Every step that Gojo takes is one filled with uncertainty, using his hands to feel around for the entrance. The world is silent, the venture to the library revealed the ghost towns you had created within a couple of hours. Every look on the human statue exhibiting a face of wonder and awe as if they had just seen an angel. It piques Chat Noir’s interests, wanting to take off this dark blindfold and have a look for himself. 

He draws closer to the entrance, immediately able to tell when he hears the whir of the self-opening doors beckoning himself inside. Using his staff as a walking stick, he lets them feel for his next step. Don’t try to find her, Plagg had advised. Let her find you. Gojo found it stupid. The two of them had no idea of your true capabilities other than freezing people in time, luring people in by your beauty. 

However, Plagg’s advice worked. The moment he stepped foot through those automatic doors, your white pupils were on him. Silent as you observed the masked hero with a snarl, eyes twitching in irritation at these professed heroes trying to save the day. Yes, my dear, Hawk Moth voiced. Lure him in and grab that Miraculous. 

Obliging, the task at hand seemed simple enough. The fool came in blindfolded, giving you the ability to take the upperhand. Though, it would be easier if he’d just take off that silly garment over his face. However, you were amused. You wanted to see how long it would take for the confident Chat Noir to fumble and fall. Was he really as agile as a cat? 

He could feel your presence, knowing that you’re lingering around. He can feel each step that you take, knowing that if he couldn’t rely on sight, he’d have to trust sound. You took one step forward, resulting in two steps back from him. You went to the right, he took five steps to the left. Clearing his throat, he was about to call your name before stopping himself. “I mean… Whatever it is that they call you. We need to talk.”

Try to reason with her, Chat Noir remembers Plagg’s words. We both saw it with Geto. If they can remember who they truly are. You can break off her hold from Hawk Moth. 

“What would I have to talk about with the likes of you?” You sneer, trying to reach for him, but yet again, he manages to dodge you. How is he doing that? 

“A lot, actually,” he says as a matter of fact. “Like, for one, you need to unfreeze everyone.” 

The sound of his voice starts to agitate you, something so familiar about it that only stirs up the emotions bubbling inside of you. The slow and calculated steps aren’t seeming to work, so you’ll just have to quicken the pace. You lunge at him, reaching for his wrist when he jumps back, his back landing into a bookshelf, making it shake as books start to fall. You smirk in his falter. Maybe there is a possibility of you winning. 

“What? So I can free that nuisance, Ladybug, as well?” you scoff. “Highly unlikely.”

“Okay, then…” he continues, stalling, backing up before you attack again. This time, aiming for the left of him. However, with his staff, he stops you. “What’s gotten you so worked up? Maybe, it’s something the both of us can work out together.”

“What are you, a therapist now?” You frown. “Listen, I only want to speak with one person, so until he comes, be a good kitty and shut up.”

“So, it’s relationship trouble!” Chat Noir beams. “Great! I can surely help with that.”

The more he talks, the more aggravated you get, grunting as you jump out at him. He misses your attacks by a few inches, always stumbling and staggering over the furniture, but always managing to make it out safe. This time, his rib cage hits the edge of the table, causing him to groan out in pain before you’re on him again. With the bat of his staff, he knocks you down before you could get a hold of him. 

“Listen, you’re hurt,” Chat Noir says. “I get it! You think someone likes you, so you muster up the courage to confess, only to realize that hey, maybe you were wrong.”

It’s shocking with how on the nail he is, making you wary to take another step towards him as you falter in your attack. “How’d you know—”

Nevermind that, Hawk Moth seethes in your mind. Just get that Miraculous! 

You push him to the back of your mind, eyebrows furrowing at Chat Noir. He shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. “Just a lucky guess? But listen…”

No, you listen to me, Hawk Moth intervenes. What that boy did to you was wrong? You’re a lovely young woman that deserves to be loved! Dwell in that anger and heartbreak! Make him pay and get that ring! 

Just as he thought he was making progress with you, he feels you lunge for him again. This time, grabbing ahold of his staff and not letting go. You hold a heavy grip on it as he tries to pull away, a battle between who’s the strongest before finally your hold lets up. Nearly knocking himself in the face, he sends you flying into the bookshelves, them falling like dominos as you land with a hearty thud. Chat Noir leaps through the air, on top of you in efforts to hold you down. 

Pinning your wrists and putting his weight on you, the two of you struggle as you fight. “Let… go… of me!”

“No, (Y/N)!” he blurts without a second thought. “You need to listen!”

“How do you—”

“Just listen to me!” he cuts you off. “Maybe, you’re right and the guy doesn’t like you. You shouldn’t let that determine how your days go! It sounds like shitty advice now, but a friend told me the same thing. It was something I needed to hear! 

“And maybe, they do like you back, but they’re just scared,” Chat Noir continues, hoping to get through to you. Hawk Moth can feel the gravity of the situation. He’s losing you, not able to spread the fire as you’re staring deep at the blindfolded Chat Noir. White pupils slowly return to their natural state as the feather to your wings falls off. 

“Why would he be scared?” you whisper, still some hold of the Crying Angel on you. 

“Maybe because he’s afraid of losing you before he’s even had you,” he says, voice low in a whisper as you’re finally reverted back to your normal self. No longer are you fighting against him, instead squirming in his touch. 

“Chat Noir?” you gasp. “Wh—Why are you on top of me?”

—

Gojo didn’t want to bombard you the moment he reverted back to his normal self. Instead, he wanted to give you time. However, that moment of peace is up when he’s standing outside your door and knocking. It takes a couple of minutes before you’re running out of your room, confused as to who could possibly be at your door right now. 

“Who is it?” you ask, before checking through the peep-hole. Your eyes widen and your breath hitches when you hear the name Gojo sound from the other side. You both haven’t spoken to each other in a matter of weeks. You thought his rejection would be the last of him, but now, here he is. There is a mixture of emotions settling within you— anger, annoyance, curiosity, longing. Deep down, you know you miss him and the budding friendship the two of you started to develop. You try not to beat yourself up over it as much anymore, the lingering piece of advice stuck inside your head, You shouldn’t let your heartbreak determine how your days go. 

He calls out your name. “Please, just give me a few minutes of your time. I’ll go right after, but there are some things I wanted to clarify with you—”

You’re unlocking your door, wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Like, what?”

You put on a brave face, watching how Gojo’s eyes widen in shock before his shoulders drop, trying to relax himself. “I… I practiced this so much in my head and now everything’s gone.”

“Well, if you forgot, then there’s no need for you here.” You go to shut the door, but he stops you, putting his foot right in between. 

“I do like you back,” he blurts. “Not as a friend, but… romantically.”

“Then, why?” you whisper, eyes glossing over as you pull open the door widely. “You told me ‘no.’”

“I didn’t say no exactly, but—”

“Well, you didn’t say ‘yes,’” you frown.

“I know,” Gojo sighs, averting eye contact. “I was just scared…”

This weird sense of deja vu runs through your bones, like you’ve heard this entire spiel before. Scared of what? You didn’t realize that you had voiced your thoughts out loud until Gojo said, “Scared of losing you.” Maybe because he’s afraid of losing you before he’s even had you.

note. thank you so much for your indulgence in this series! please take some time to send feedback and to let me know what you thought of the first season. i will hint to y'all that season two will be even better than this one :3

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