#so yeah i’m going to continue to not talk to them. now they know why

[deepamuthukrishnan]

We Listen and We Don’t Judge

Pairings: Nico Hischier x OC

Warnings: Spoilers for That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice but just a lot of fluff.

Summary: You are a viral booktoker and after seeing the we listen and we don’t judge trend with couples, you put your own twist.

—————————————————————————

It’s not a joke that you are mildly addicted to TikTok. After all, by day, you worked for the New Jersey Devils as a social media girl but by night, you are one of the most viral booktokers on BookTok.

Currently you were doomscrolling on TikTok, waiting for your boyfriend, Nico, to come home from hanging at Jack’s and Luke’s place.

You suddenly come across a video of a couple doing the We Listen and Don’t Judge trend which you weren’t that completely unaware of because you had seen it on your for you page for the last few days.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” The couple both said before the woman started to talk.

“I sometimes don’t wash our fruit because I feel lazy.” She said, trying not to laugh.

The man burst into laughter. “Jesus we’re gonna get worms! We probably have worms in our bodies!”

“Well we listen and we don’t judge!” She clapped back and you began to laugh.

After about three minutes of watching that video, an idea popped in your head. You walked to your massive bookshelf that Nico assembled for you for Christmas last year and got out your copies of That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice from your shelf before walking back to the living room.

As soon as you walked back, you saw Nico walk in, taking his shoes and beanie off.

“Hey Schatz.” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist, giving you a kiss.

You pulled away to greet him back, Nico pouting a bit. “Hey baby. How was the hangout at Jack’s and Luke’s place.”

“Same old same old.” He said, his Swiss German accent being prominent.

You chuckled. “Why don’t you get changed.”

“Okay.” He gives you a quick kiss before walking into your shared bedroom before walking out in grey sweatpants and a devils hoodie.

“Hey Nico?”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“You love me right?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asked and you look at him gobsmacked.

“Okay no. I’m not breaking up with you-“

“Thank god.”

“I was literally gonna ask if you wanted to be in a TikTok baby.” You say.

Nico has been your biggest supporter and even though it was a mutual decision to keep your love life private, along with the occasional post of each other on your birthdays, anniversaries, and reposting posts of you guys in them.

“Oh okay. What TikTok?”

He plops down on the floor and looks at the pile of books on the coffee table. “What TikTok is it?”

You get your phone and open TikTok, going to make a new video, propping your phone on the little fake bonsai tree.

“Okay so we’re gonna do the we listen and we don’t judge trend except it’s with the books I read last month.” You say to your phone before stopping the recording.

“I say we listen and we don’t judge and tell you something about the book.” I explain.

“So I sit and look pretty?”

“Pretty much.” I answer.

I get out the first book, That Sik Luv, from the pile before clicking the button to record.

“We listen and we don’t judge,” you say, trying so hard not to laugh. “In this book, she’s in a religious cult, she doesn’t know that she is. Either way, the church that runs their town are trying to kill her so they hire this mercenary dude who becomes obsessed with her and stalks her and shows just how corrupt the church is. So one day, when she has to go to confession and he’s waiting for her in where she’s supposed to sit and they get their freak on when she’s giving her confession to the deacon and when he pulls back to curtain to pew pew her, he acts quickly and pew pews the deacon and they continue to get their freak on in front of the deacon’s now dead body.”

Nico mulls over what you said before saying, “I would read this book Schatzi.”

“What?!” You look at him horrified. “Like you’re not playing with me are you?”

“I mean I would skip over these kinda scenes but it seems interesting.”

“Oh my lord.” You muttered before grabbing King of Wrath.

“We listen and we don’t judge,” you said, forming her thoughts. “So in this book, both the characters are in an arranged marriage situation for reasons I can’t say. Anyway, one thing leads to another and he’s,” you mime fingering to him and he raises his eyebrows, “her and calls him an asshole and he replies with ‘I’m an asshole, yet youre dripping for me.’”

“Is this what you’re reading when your jaw is dropped?” He asks.

“Well like, you signed up for this.” You say.

“I love you too much.” He said, pulling you into him.

“I love you too.” You say and you grab King of Sloth.

“We listen and we don’t judge. So for context, her ex cheated on her-“

“He’s a dead man.” Nico fumes, his Swiss German accent becoming even more prominent.

“If you’ll let me finish.” You say, trying not to laugh at his outburst but you crack a smile. “Anyway, because of that, she has trust issues and when she’s telling him, so the mmc, her trust issues, instead of reassuring her, he sits her on her desk and goes to town with his mouth on her. He then proceeds to bend her over and goes to town on her and he puts duct tape over her mouth because she’s apparently loud.”

A beat of silence passes before Nico says, “If your ex cheated on you and you said that, I’d do the same.”

You whack the book on his head. “No you won’t.” You reply, both of you laughing.

“What, I need to remind him what he missed out on.” He responds chalantly.

You roll your eyes before grabbingGod of Wrath.

“We listen and we don’t judge. So in the first chapter, she wants to kill herself because her best friend killed himself and she on the edge of the cliff and she jumps, but then the mmc grabs onto her and he said that the only way he can save her life is if she performs a certain sexual act down there.”

“Like what do you mean?”

“He’s holding on to her and he’s like oh the only way I will save you if you do this certain sexual act down there for me.”

“And she does.”

“Well yeah. If we were in this exact situation, I’d do it because I value my life.” You respond.

“Okay true.” He says.

You get out your last book, God of Wrath, trying not to laugh.

“We listen and we don’t judge. In this book, she’s walking home at night with her headphones in and these two creeps are like following her but then, the mmc, who was stalking her, bears the guys up because in his eyes, he’s the only one that allowed to stalk her.”

“Oh.” He says. “That’s kinda stupid though.”

“What is?” You ask.

“Walking alone at night with headphones in. Like does she not have any sense?”

You burst into laughter at his words. “Literally the mmc asked her the exact question and it is pretty stupid.” You look at your phone before saying, “Guys, remember to not walk alone at night with headphones in. But also let me know if yall want a part 2.”

You hit the stop button and he pulls you further into him. “You know I love you, but this is the weirdest TikTok you made me do.”

You chuckle and kiss his jaw. “I know babe.”

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Iris: That was so good. I’m going to be thinking about that dinner for weeks. Ezra: How have you lived here your whole life and never been to Elliot’s? Iris: Eh, there are certain places I’ve always avoided because it’s where all the tourists go.

Ezra: Do a lot of tourists come to the Bay? Iris: Oh yeah, you’d be surprised. People love a charming little coastal town. Ezra: That makes sense. I mean, that’s why I moved here.

Iris: Why did you move? Ezra: Uh [heavy exhale] I needed a fresh start. Iris: Because of your divorce? Ezra: Yeah, pretty much.

Iris: What happened? Ezra: We just… [shrugs] grew apart. Iris: That’s a very vague and cliché answer. What’s the real answer? Ezra: [chuckles] Okay, um, the real answer is… religion. Iris: Oh.

Ezra: When we got married, we believed in the same things. But then, I lost someone close to me, and I began to question everything… everything I’d been taught my whole life to be true… and the more I questioned, the more it all felt like bullshit. For a long time, we didn’t talk about it. I still played the part, and I continued going to church with her to save her the discomfort of people asking after me, and I think that made it easier for us to ignore. But when we started talking about having children, we couldn’t agree on how to raise them, what to teach them, and we realized that it was never going to work. We still loved each other, but we’d become fundamentally different. And it was… sad.

Iris: So, you really did grow apart. Ezra: Some things are cliché for a reason. Iris: Are you still in touch? Like, did you stay friends? Ezra: No. There are no hard feelings, but we agreed a clean break was for the best.

Iris: You’re lucky you figured all this out before having children. A lot of people don’t. Ezra: Very true. Iris: Is that still something you want? Kids? Ezra: I think so, yeah.

Ezra: What about you? Iris: What about me? Ezra: Marriage? Kids? Religious affiliations? Iris: Oof. Pretty heavy topics for a first date, don’t you think?

Ezra: You brought it up. And besides, if you count coffee, this is technically our third date. Iris: Hm. Do you always wait until the third date to kiss someone? Or are you just not that into me? Ezra: Oh, I’m into you. I’m just waiting for the right time.

Iris: Well, if you ask me, now feels pretty good. Ezra: It does, but… Iris: But?

Ezra: It kinda feels like you’re trying to distract me. Iris: I don’t know what you mean.

Ezra: Then answer the questions. Iris: [sighs] Fine. No, I’ve never been married. Yes, I- I want kids. And no, religion is not my thing.

Ezra: That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Iris: No more talking.

[residentrookie]

NFU 

a messy exes/right person, wrong time jegulus microfic inspired by the song NFU by del water gap for my bb @static-radio-ao3 as my thank u for the introduction :))

“Hello?” 

“Regulus,” a hoarse voice rasps on the other end of the phone, drawing out the syllables of his name. Rough and low and… drunk. Extremely fucking drunk, by the sound of it.

Regulus stiffens. “James. Are you-- you’re drunk calling me. Again.” 

“Very astute. You’re always so astute, Reg.” 

He checks the clock on his nightstand with bleary eyes. 3:30 AM. God. Not this again.

“I thought we talked about this,” he sighs, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his eyes. 

“We don’t talk much these days,” James points out rationally. “I think I would have remembered.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes. Not fucking likely. 

“Since you were in a similar state the last time we had this conversation, I’m not surprised you don’t remember. Just so we’re clear that doesn’t make it okay, James. This is— you have to stop doing this.” 

By ‘this’ Regulus means getting wasted and calling him when James is too far gone to talk himself out of the idea. And, if Regulus were smart, he would stop picking up when James’ name flashes across his screen. 

“Like I said. Astute.” 

Drunk James is his worst nightmare, truly. Drunk James is a walking, talking reminder of everything he doesn’t have anymore, everything he will never have again. When he calls, lacking crucial social skills like self-control and any modicum of a filter, Regulus is forced to be the rational one, reminding them both that this boundary exists for a reason. A very good reason.

“Okay. Well I’m glad— it’s good that we talked about this. But this is— this has to be the last time. I’m hanging up now, okay?” 

James continues as if he never spoke. “How’s your um— your boyfriend doing?”

Immediately no. 

“I’m not talking about this with you—” Regulus attempts to shut him down, but James is nothing if not obstinate. 

“You’re still dating the guy with the dumb fucking name, right?” 

James knows full well that he is. Sirius would have informed him otherwise. He just wants to hear Regulus say it because he’s fucking sick and twisted. Naturally, Regulus can’t give him the satisfaction, so he avoids the question. 

“You can’t think Regulus is a perfectly normal name and then turn around and shit on a guy for being named Kingsley.” 

James scoffs on the other end of the phone. “I can shit on him as much as I want. Fucking hate that fucker.” 

“You’ve never met him. You can’t hate someone you’ve never even met.” 

“Sirius hates him.” 

“Sirius doesn’t hate him—” Sirius just wishes he was you. 

“Mhm. Told me so. Said he’s a little bitch who can’t hold his liquor.”

Now it’s Regulus’ turn to scoff. “This coming from you right now? You sound so fucked up, I doubt you can even see straight. Not that you could before, but—” 

“I’m not fucked up,” James insists, then says calmly, “I just missed the way that you talk.” 

This. This was why they had to stop. In his worst moments, Regulus loathes the fact that Sober James all but ignores him most of the time, only bothering to text him on important holidays or birthdays. That is, until he’s reminded that Drunk James wants to ruin him— completely and thoroughly— by the casual cruelty of speaking his mind and expecting Regulus to go on peacefully with his life as if he didn’t just upend it entirely. 

“James…” he starts shakily. 

“Shit, that sounded stupid. This was,” James hiccups, “not my best idea, I fear. Rash. Extremely rash feeling.” 

“What, drunk calling your ex? Yeah, I would say it’s one of your worst.” 

James is quiet for a moment. “You kill me, you know? I-I hate talking to you.” 

Rage wells up in Regulus’ throat so fast he nearly chokes on it. “You called me—”

“God, you sound good. You always sound sexy when you’re angry, did you know that?  Rougher… hotter. All red in the face and your neck…I can almost see it, if I squint.”  James pauses, presumably squinting like a drunken idiot. “Maybe that’s why I called you— to make you angry. To hear you be angry at me again. Stupid fucking thing to miss, isn’t it?”

Yet again, Regulus is at a loss. 

“You— I’m— God, you’re a real fucking bastard, you know that? Do you have any idea how excruciating it is to talk to you when you’re like this?” 

But James ignores him, saying ruefully, “Sirius told me, he always tells me, he says, ‘Don’t do it, James. You always regret it, you always yell at me the next day for letting you call him,’ but he can’t stop me,” a childish giggle bursts from him. “I’m too fast. Much, much faster than him, just for the record. He’s never once beat me in a foot race, and if he says he has he’s a big, fat fucking liar—”

“James, I sincerely don’t give a fuck about that— be honest, did you run away from him at the bar?” 

Drunk James will do that. He’s a runner. Well, not when Regulus was around to keep him on a tight leash, but it seems that without him, James is turning back to some of his worst habits. 

The line goes quiet. Then, “A little bit.” 

“It’s a yes or no question, James.” 

“Mm.” He seems to think on it. “Yes, then.” 

Regulus tosses his hand in the air, forgetting James can’t see him. “Go back and find him!” 

“Don’t want to,” James sniffs. “Tryin to make my mistakes in peace.” 

“You— I’m hanging up and calling Sirius.” 

“No, no don’t!” James yells into the receiver, making Regulus wince and pull his phone away from his ear. James’ voice is much quieter when he speaks again. 

“Don’t, I have to say— I wanted to tell you. I have to tell you that I’m sorry, Regulus. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

A pit of dread forms in his stomach. James sounds wretched. He sounds like how Regulus feels when he thinks too long about how far they’ve drifted apart, how little they speak to each other anymore. For one infinitesimal second, Regulus gets the satisfaction of knowing that he’s not alone in this specific shade of misery— dark blue and bottomless. And then he reminds himself that he’s sober and his ex-boyfriend is drunk and they shouldn’t even be fucking talking right now if they knows what’s good for them. 

“James, look, you’re drunk, you’re emotional—”

“‘S not what I’m apologizing for.” 

“What, then?” 

“Everything. All of it. I never—I wanted…” 

Don’t say it, Regulus begs silently. Please don’t say what I—

“I still love you,” James breathes out. “I love you so much I can’t breathe around it.” 

Regulus lets his eyes sink closed, firmly shuttering the tears forming in his eyes. He can’t let himself say it back. He can’t. If he does…

“James…” Regulus lets himself savor the sound of his name on his tongue. Then says softly, “It’s okay.” 

They both know it’s not. 

______________________________

James looks down at the number on his phone. Blinks, just to make sure he isn’t imagining… but, no, he isn’t making it up. He picks up his phone, his apprehension growing. 

“Regulus?” he asks, unsure. 

A snort sounds on the other line. “Hm, fffancy seeing you here.” 

James blinks again. “...We’re talking over the phone.”

He doesn’t have to see Regulus to know that he’s just waved James’ words away with a flippant hand. “Metaphorically, then.” 

It’s been weeks since the last time they spoke. James remembers very little of that ill-conceived conversation, except of course for the part where he said the one thing he promised himself he would never say again because his brain hates him. It’s played on a loop in his head everyday since, his ragged, sincere words and Regulus’ noncommittal response to them. 

It’s okay, he had said. 

It was anything but okay. They both knew that. 

He had been doing so well, had been training himself to think of other things besides his ex boyfriend and his ex boyfriend’s new boyfriend and what the two of them were getting up to together, all the fun things they were probably doing while James was just focused on getting through his day. On getting to the next one. The next. The next the next the next the next the next—

“You don’t have ‘nything to say? Hm?” Regulus’ words slur. Unusual for him. Regulus was always so in control of himself. 

James frowns. “Are you okay? You sound—”

“Drunk? Well, that’s because I am. Royally, massively fucking toasted. Thought I’d return the favor and call you for once. ‘S your lucky day.” 

“Oh. I guess— I deserve that.” 

“I’ll say. Taste of your own medicine. Drink up, Potter.” 

James huffs a humorless laugh. “You must be drunk if you’re calling me ‘Potter’. You never call me that.” 

“Never say never, Potter,” he spits out meanly.  “It’s never a good idea to say never, remember? Remember how not good of an idea it is to use the word never? My therapist, she says I need to stop talking in absolutes. Never and always. Never say never, I learned that from her. Shame you didn’t, too.” 

James sinks into a kitchen chair, burying his face in his free hand, rubbing out the headache growing in his left temple. “You were right,”  he admits. “This is excruciating.” 

This conversation is making him feel awful for every single time he’s dialed Regulus drunk, the barrier between his thoughts and his words nowhere to be found. Regulus was right. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. He deserved this for every single second Regulus had to keep his cool on the other line while James was busy fucking them up a little more than they already had been. 

“Like remember when you said we’d never break up? Or when you said you’d always love me? Hilarious. Really, really funny stuff.” 

Regulus’ voice is liquid rage, red hot and acidic. James swears it’s burning him through the phone. 

He sighs. “Regulus. Can we not?” 

“No, no, we should talk about it. It’s been long enough. We can be rational adults and have a damn conversation. Here, you know what, I’ll even go first. I wanted you to come with me, you know. I should have asked you. To come with me.” 

James feels his heart stutter in his chest at those words. “You did ask me to come with you,” he murmurs. 

Regulus was waiting for that, like a snake rearing to strike. “Wait. Yessss, that’s right. I asked you to come with me and you said no! Now I remember. You said fucking no.” 

James clenches his jaw, his own anger slowly rising up the column of his throat. “I didn’t say no. I asked for some time to decide if I wanted to upend my life and move across the country, which is a pretty sane response to a question of that fucking magnitude. You’re the one who decided my hesitation meant I didn’t love you.” 

“Well, it sure didn’t feel like you loved me when you let me leave.” 

“Let you—?!” James cuts off, knowing he’ll blow a gasket if he doesn’t calm himself.  “Regulus,” he starts, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one lets you do anything! You do whatever you please and damn the consequences! I just never— I didn’t want to be one of those consequences.” 

Regulus, to no one’s shock, does not attempt to calm himself. In fact, James fears he’s only stoked the flames. 

“You are hands down the most infuriating human being on the face of the goddamn planet! Of course you’re blaming me! Of course, like you were just an innocent bystander while I went about ruining our relationship! Like you had nothing to do with it! You had no part in it, no, not perfect James Potter, never him! I cannot believe— I just— it’s all so— fuck!” 

His voice breaks on the word and then the rest of him breaks too. His tears sound painful, like they’re fighting they’re way out of Regulus’ body with each sob. He cries loudly and messily and James can’t pretend like the sound doesn’t break his heart all over again. 

“Regulus?” He makes his voice gentle. Soothing. “Hey, don’t cry. Listen, you’re drunk. Why don’t we try talking when you’ve sobered up?” 

“No, James,” he sobs, gasping for breath. “You don’t understand. I fucked up. I fucked up.” 

James sits up straighter, alarmed. 

“Are you okay? Are you safe? What’s going on—” 

Regulus sniffles. “No, I’m— I’m at my place. I’m fine. It’s just… it’s Kingsley.” 

James’ mind goes still in a way that should scare him but doesn’t. “Did he hurt you?” He doesn’t  bother keeping the cool rage out of his voice. 

“No!” Regulus nearly shouts. “No.. the opposite, actually. I hurt him. Badly.” 

James closes his eyes and takes a deep, slow breath. “Look… I’m sorry you’re upset but I really don’t want to listen to your lover’s spat—”

“I said your name last night,” Regulus whispers. 

“You—what?” 

Regulus doesn’t hold himself back. “He fucked me and I said your name. When I came. Yelled it, actually. No way to hide it. James and Kingsley don’t sound remotely similar.” 

And that— well. James has lost the ability for rational thought. “Oh,” he manages.

“Yeah, oh,” Regulus mimics him harshly. “He stormed out and we haven’t talked since. And I think— I think he’s going to break up with me now. He should break up with me. It’s— what I did is unforgivable.” 

No matter how hard he tries, James can’t think of a single thing to say to this information. Naturally, Regulus won’t let that stand. 

“James? Are you gonna say something?” 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks weakly. 

“Say you’re sorry!” Regulus shouts. “Say you’re sorry for drunk calling me all the fucking time, for reminding me that you exist, for reminding me I still fucking love—” 

He cuts off, but not quite quickly enough. James still heard everything he didn’t say. 

“I am sorry,” he says, voice rough. “I’m really, really sorry, Reg.”

He hears the hitch in Regulus’ breath. If he closes his eyes he can see Regulus before him, see the pain take up residence on his beautiful face, the way he scrunches his nose when he cries, his eyes going stark red, his cheeks staining themselves pink. 

He can see Regulus so clearly in his mind. But he didn’t see what was coming next. 

“I-I just want to be with you again,” Regulus cries softly. “I want to be with you, baby. I’ll move back, I’ll quit my program, I’ll move in with you like you wanted, I’ll do anything— but I can’t live like this anymore, James, I can’t, I can’t—”

James’ own tears slide down his cheeks silently, falling off the cliff-edge of his chin. 

“Regulus,” he says as firmly as he can manage. “Stop it. Please. You didn’t move away on a whim, okay? You’re in an amazing program. You love Chicago, you love the city and the river walk and the Art Institute and that bookshop across from Grant Park—” 

“You can’t— I didn’t tell you about any of—” 

“I pay attention. I know you love it. And I love where I live. I love my job here.” He forces the next words to leave his mouth, even though they taste like poison. “We’re… in the right places for ourselves. I have to believe that.” 

This doesn’t satisfy Regulus. The most twisted part of him is glad about that. 

“Why don’t you get it, James? I can’t be in the right place if I’m not with you. The right place doesn’t exist if we aren’t in it together.” 

James squeezes his eyes shut tightly. Regulus can’t know how badly this is hurting him. He can’t know that James feels like dying every day they spend apart, that James has applied for over ten jobs in Chicago just to hear nothing back, has looked at apartments in Regulus’ neighborhood enough times he’s saved the site to his favorites bar. Even when Regulus was dating someone else. Even after Regulus had moved on from him. 

He's looked at it from so many angles, tried to reconfigure it so many times in his mind, and nothing made sense for them. One of them would always be giving up something, making sacrifices for the other, letting the resentment build.

Even thought Regulus is saying everything he’s been wanting to hear for an entire year...

He’s drunk. He’s drunk and he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Doesn’t know what he wants. 

“We’re happy, Regulus,” James tells him stiffly. “We’re both happy.” 

Maybe if he keeps repeating it, he’ll finally start to believe it. 

“If this is what happiness feels like,” Regulus snarls, “then I don’t want to be fucking happy.” 

No. And James doesn’t either. 

“You’ll feel differently in the morning. I promise.” 

Regulus laughs without humor. “I’ll still want you in the morning. Being sober doesn’t change that. It just lets me hold on to a shred of my dignity and not call you to tell you about it. But it doesn’t change a damn thing. You have to know that.” 

He’s drunk, James reminds himself. He’s just drunk. 

“Goodnight, Regulus,” he chokes out. 

“I still love you, James.” 

“It’s okay, Reg. It’ll be okay.” 

They both know it won’t be. 

[cosmiclily]

when she sees me

★ vi x f!reader

wc: 5.4k

cw: reader goes on a date with one (1) guy for exactly 27 minutes; pure tooth rooting fluff.

notes: this was @entraptasimp request but tumblr was being a bitch and i lost the ask 😭. this got my brain juices working, it started off with nothing to do with what you requested but i worked my way through it, i had so much fun writing it, hope you like it !!

I was born a fundamentally anxious person. I like things a certain way—I’ve never liked guessing games or the feeling of not knowing how things would unfold. That’s why I’ve never been a fan of dating apps, meet-cutes, or anything that required me to dive into the unknown. Even my reading choices reflected that. I always gravitated toward romances where the main characters were destined to be together, the kind where they had known each other forever and love was inevitable.

So when it came to my own life, I was completely lost. Imagine spending almost 21 years never having a boyfriend, a girlfriend, or anything remotely romantic. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried—I’d had experiences, but they were all terrible. The kind of stuff you look back on and cringe so hard you want to erase the memory altogether.

"Can you believe I’ll be 21 soon, and I’ve never dated anyone?" I groaned, tossing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. Vi, my best friend, was sprawled next to me on my bed, equally engrossed in our snacks but pretending to care about whatever show was playing in the background. "Even you had girlfriends. What is wrong with me?"

Vi turned to me with a dramatic gasp, her mouth still half-full of popcorn. "What do you mean, even me? I’m a greatcatch! Good looking, great muscles, and super smart. You can’t beat that."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, super humble too, I see."

She smirked, flexing her arm like she was some kind of bodybuilder. "Exactly. You’re just jealous."

I sighed, staring at the ceiling. "No, I’m just… I don’t know. It feels like I missed some crucial lesson everyone else got. Like, how do people just meet someone and start dating them? How does it happen so easily for everyone else?"

Vi was quiet for a moment before she nudged me with her foot. "It’s not easy for everyone. And maybe it’s not supposed to be easy for you. Maybe you’re just waiting for the right kind of difficult."

I frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Vi shrugged. “I don’t know, it just sounded poetic. But seriously, maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet. Or maybe you’re meant for a slow-burn romance—like the ones in those books you love so much.”

I groaned, rolling onto my side. “But I’m tired, Vi,” I whined. “I hate relying on fate, or destiny, or whatever. I need to do something!”

She stared at me for a moment, her eyes narrowing like she was deep in thought. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, and that was never a good sign.

“Okay, hmm.” She tapped her fingers against her chin. “I know you don’t like dating apps, and you hate talking to strangers, but unless you want to date me, or Mel, or—I don’t know—Jayce…”

I made a face so disgusted she burst out laughing.

“Right, so unless you want to date your friends,” she continued, still grinning, “you’re going to have to get to know someone new.”

I groaned dramatically, burying my face in my pillow. “But I don’t like meeting people.”

Vi let out an exaggerated sigh. “God, you’re insufferable.” She poked my shoulder until I looked at her again. “Again! Unless you’re planning to date your friends, you have to meet new people. So! My idea is… I choose your suitors based on what I think you’d like. You go on a date with them, and if you don’t like them, we move on to someone else. We keep going until we find you a partner.”

I stared at her. “You make it sound like a game show.”

She grinned. “Oh, it absolutely is a game show now.”

──────────────────────

“So, to start off—download every dating app you can find. We’re setting up your profile and swiping away!” Vi announced, a sinister grin on her face and a bag of chips perched on her lap. It was honestly kind of terrifying.

I hesitated, staring at her like she had just suggested I walk barefoot across hot coals. “Okay, I just don’t see how forcing me to do something I hate is the solution here.” Still, I begrudgingly opened the app store and started scrolling through the endless sea of dating apps.

“Exposure therapy, Y/N!” Vi declared, stuffing a handful of chips into her mouth. “Besides, I’ve known you my whole life. If I don’t make you do this, you’re going to end up single well into your sixties, whining in my ears about your wasted youth and how you never got the love story you deserved.” She pitched her voice higher, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “‘Oh, Vi, why didn’t you force me to date when I had the chance?’”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Vi snorted. “You absolutely do.”

I sighed, already regretting this. “Fine. But if this turns into a disaster, you owe me—big time.”

She grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. This is going to be legendary.”

As soon as the apps finished downloading, Vi snatched my phone right out of my hands. “Nope! You are not sabotaging your own chances at finding love,” she declared, her eyes gleaming with determination.

I sighed, letting her take control because, honestly, fighting her on this would be pointless. Vi had always been like this—stubborn, overenthusiastic, and convinced she knew what was best for me. And, to be fair, she usually did.

Vi had been my best friend since birth. Literally. Our moms had been best friends in college and ended up pregnant around the same time, so we grew up side by side. Sure, she could be very annoying at times, but she was also the person I trusted most in the world. We had been through every high and low together, and despite her occasional chaos, I knew she always had my back.

“There! Your profile is complete,” Vi announced, handing me my phone with a triumphant smile. “Now, we can start hunting for our prey.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I really don’t like that you’re calling them ‘prey.’”

She shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s the circle of life, Y/N. We swipe, we match, we conquer.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this.”

Vi ignored me, already swiping through potential matches like she was picking out groceries. “Ooooh, this one’s cute. She looks like she reads books and goes to the gym. A rare breed.”

I groaned. This was going to be a nightmare.

──────────────────────

During the weekend that Vi stayed over at my house, we matched with a handful of people—well, she matched with them while I mostly watched in horror. By Sunday night, she had already set up a few dates for me. The first one was with a girl named Ashley. She had dark green hair, loved musicals, and was apparently obsessed with Lana Del Rey.

“You’re coming with me, right?” I asked the second Vi dropped the news.

She blinked at me, unimpressed. “How exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“I don’t know! Put on a fake mustache, wear sunglasses, sit at a different table—something!” I waved my hands dramatically. “What if the date is a disaster? What if she’s weird, or hates me, or—what if I need to escape?!”

Vi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was already regretting signing up for this. “Y/N, you’re a grown adult. You can sit through one date without me holding your hand.”

“You say that, but you’re also the one who forced me into this,” I pointed out.

“Okay, fair.” She crossed her arms, thinking for a moment. “How about this—I’ll sit nearby but not like, right there. If you need an out, text me a code word, and I’ll call you with a fake emergency.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the code word?”

Vi smirked. “Summertime sadness.”

I groaned. “You’re the worst.”

She grinned, tossing a pillow at me. “And yet, you’d be lost without me.”

The date was scheduled for Friday, and there I was, sitting at a window table in the local diner, nervously tapping my fingers against the menu. Vi sat three tables away, pretending to be interested in her milkshake but very obviously keeping an eye on me.

I had no idea what to expect. I barely knew anything about Ashley—we had exchanged a few texts, but nothing meaningful. She was essentially a stranger I was about to have dinner with, and the thought alone made my stomach twist.

Vi caught my eye and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up, trying to send some reassurance my way. It didn’t really help, but I appreciated the effort.

Then, I saw her. Or rather, I saw her hair first. Ashley’s dark green hair stood out even from a distance, but what really sealed the deal was the bright pink jacket she wore over an all-black outfit, complete with chunky black boots. She was hard to miss.

As she approached the table, she smiled wide. “Hii, you must be Y/N!” she greeted, sliding into the seat across from me with an excited energy.

I straightened up. “Yes! Nice to meet you!”

And honestly? It was nice to meet her—at least, at first. The conversation flowed smoothly. She asked about my life, I asked about hers, and everything seemed to be going well. That is… until she brought up her cat.

Lana.

Named, of course, after Lana Del Rey.

Which was cute at first—until Ashley did not stop talking about her.

Not joking, for thirty minutes straight, she went on about Lana’s favorite toys, her special diet, the way she sensed when Ashley was sad and comforted her like a “little furry angel.” Every time I thought she was done, she’d whip out her phone and scroll through an endless gallery of Lana’s pictures.

My face was cramping from forcing a smile. I snuck a glance at Vi, who was clearly enjoying my suffering way too much.

I subtly reached for my phone and typed a single text.

Summertime sadness.

That’s when Vi stood up, striding toward our table with intent. At first, I was confused—she looked… angry?

For a brief second, panic flared in my chest. Had I texted the wrong code word? Was something actually wrong?

Then, she stopped in front of us, dramatically placing a hand over her heart like she was in a soap opera.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” she gasped, sounding exasperated. “I cannot believe what my eyes are showing me! You—cheating on me! And in our favorite diner, of all places?!”

It took me a second, but then I caught on to the theatrics.

I shot up from my seat, clutching my chest as if I had just been caught in the act. “No, Vi, my love! This is not what it looks like!” I turned to Ashley, gesturing dramatically. “I don’t even know this girl! We were just making friendly conversation, you have to believe me!”

Ashley blinked between us, looking both confused and mildly alarmed. “…Wait, what?”

Vi let out a loud, exaggerated sob and turned away. “I trusted you! And this is how you repay me?”

I reached for her hand, playing along. “Baby, please! Let me explain!”

Ashley slowly leaned back in her chair, gripping her drink. “Uh. I—should I leave, or…?”

Vi sniffled, dabbing at her dry eyes like she was wiping away imaginary tears. “No, no. I’ll leave. I just can’t bear to look at you right now, Y/N. I hope you and your little fling are very happy together.” She turned on her heel, storming out with all the grace of a drama queen.

I turned back to Ashley with an apologetic smile. “I should… probably go after her.”

Ashley just nodded, still looking completely lost. “Uh. Yeah. You should… go do that.”

I grabbed my jacket, muttering a quick, “It was nice meeting you,” before practically running out of the diner after Vi.

The second we were outside, we both burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, that was so unhinged,” Vi wheezed, wiping at her eyes.

I groaned, shaking my head. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

She shrugged. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

I sighed, but I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for saving me.”

Vi smirked. “Anytime, cheater.”

──────────────────────

And I would love to say the other dates went even remotely better—but I’d be lying.

The second date was with a guy named Chad—which, honestly, should’ve been the first red flag. He was a full-on gym bro, the kind who talked about nothing but his gains and his macros. He was so obsessed with hitting his daily protein intake that he actually pulled out a shaker bottle mid-conversation and started chugging a protein shake like we were at a post-workout hangout instead of a date.

I lasted exactly 27 minutes before sending Vi our secret code word: creatine.

Within seconds, my phone rang, and Vi’s panicked voice echoed through the speaker. “Oh my god, Y/N! Grandma’s been in a car accident—the car’s on fire! You need to leave IMMEDIATELY!”

I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to look convincingly horrified. “Oh no! Not grandma! I—I’m so sorry, Chad, I have to go!”

He barely looked up from flexing his bicep in the reflection of his water glass. “Yeah, cool, family first or whatever. Just don’t forget to hit the gym tomorrow—you’ll feel better.”

I practically sprinted out of there.

The third date? Even worse.

This girl—her name was Marissa—decided to bring her lizard to our date. Yes. A lizard. She texted me to meet her at the park, and I figured, “Oh, cool, a casual outdoor date.” But the second I spotted her on the bench with a giant reptiledraped over her shoulder like it was an accessory, I just… stopped in my tracks.

I didn’t even bother texting Vi. I turned right back around and walked away like I’d never seen that park in my life.

Later, as Vi drove us away from the disaster zone, I was still fuming.

“She brought her lizard, Vi! Her LIZARD!” I complained, slumping in the passenger seat like the sheer memory drained me.

Vi snorted, barely holding back her laughter. “You wouldn’t be having this reaction if it was a dog. Just saying.”

“Because dogs are normal! Lizards are not a third-wheel you bring on a date!”

She grinned, giving me a playful nudge. “Maybe the lizard was her emotional support animal.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “I’m never doing this again.”

Vi just laughed. “Oh, yes you are. We’ve only just begun.”

The fourth date was… surprisingly normal.

Her name was Ellie, and she was hot as fuck. Like, the moment she walked in, I felt my soul leave my body. She had this effortless, cool-girl vibe—tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of her denim jacket, a lazy smile that could probably stop traffic, and this way of looking at you like she was reading your mind.

And the best part? She was actually fun to talk to. She played guitar, had this dry, witty sense of humor, and we clicked in that easy, natural way I didn’t even know was possible. For the first time since Vi threw me into this dating nightmare, I thought, Hey, maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

But, of course, the universe wasn’t about to let me have that.

As the date was winding down, Ellie gave me this soft, apologetic look. I knew something was coming, but I wasn’t prepared for that.

“Hey, so…” she started, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “You’re a really nice girl, like, seriously. But I’m not, uh… I’m not over my ex. And talking to you tonight made me realize how much I miss her. I hope you find what you’re looking for, though. Truly.”

She was so sweet about letting me down, which almost made it worse. Like, why did the only nice, amazing, tattooed goddess have to be the one who didn’t want anything to do with me?

By the time I got home, I was ready to burn Vi’s whole dating plan to the ground. I flopped onto my bed and immediately called her.

“This isn’t working, Vi. Seriously,” I groaned the moment she answered. “Where are you even finding these people? I just had one of the best dates of my life, and suddenly she’s not over her ex?”

Vi snorted on the other end. “Oof. That’s rough.”

“I’m not joking!” I whined, dramatically kicking my feet like I was five. “This is your fault. You roped me into this mess, and now I’m emotionally attached to a girl who doesn’t even want me!”

Vi burst into laughter. “Wow, you’re really going through all five stages of grief, huh?”

“I’m stuck at betrayal, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s just one date. You’ll bounce back.”

“I don’t want to bounce back, Vi. I want Ellie,” I grumbled, burying my face in my pillow.

There was a pause, then Vi said, “Well… maybe the next date will be even better.”

I groaned louder. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are, still letting me pick your dates.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong.

──────────────────────

After all the disasters I’d been through, I was done with dating. Completely over it. No more awkward small talk, no more weird code words, and definitely no more dates with people who brought lizards as emotional support. Vi, however, refused to let it go. She’d still ramble on about people she’d matched with, her excitement bubbling over like I wasn’t emotionally scarred from the last lineup of dating catastrophes. I didn’t want to hear about it anymore—I knew this wasn’t going to work.

“Okay,” Vi started one afternoon, plopping dramatically onto my bed like she was about to deliver some life-altering news. “I know you’re fed up with the dating apps. And with me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Especially with you.”

She ignored me. “But there’s one more person I’d like you to give a chance to.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed with the same energy as a dying Victorian woman. “Vi—”

She cut me off with a look. That hopeful, annoyingly earnest look that always managed to crack through my walls, no matter how stubborn I was. Despite being mad at her—or at least pretending to be—I could never actually say no to her. It was like some unspoken rule of our friendship.

“Ugh, fine!” I threw my hands up, as if surrendering to the universe itself. “But this is the last time.” I sat up, pointing a finger at her like I was laying down the law. “I’m serious, Vi. After this, I’m done. If anyone wants to date me, they’ll have to show up at my door, kidnap me, and force me into a relationship.”

She burst out laughing, but there was something off about it—like it was a little too forced, a little too high-pitched. Her usual chaotic confidence was still there, but underneath it, I noticed a flicker of something…nervous?

“Yeah, well…” She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “About that. There’s just one small catch.”

I squinted at her, already suspicious. “What kind of catch?”

She grinned, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “The date is a secret until you get there.”

I blinked. “A secret?”

“Yup.” She popped the ‘p’ with exaggerated cheer. “No name, no details—just show up and let the magic happen.”

I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Vi. Do you hear yourself? This sounds like the start of a true crimedocumentary.”

She waved me off. “Oh, please. If anyone tried to kidnap you, you’d be the one they regretted it instantly.”

Fair point.

Still, something about her expression stuck with me—this weird mix of excitement and nerves. But, like the fool I was, I agreed. Again.

──────────────────────

On the day of my mystery date, I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure out what to wear. Which was ridiculous because, technically, I didn’t even know who I was meeting. But somehow, the not-knowing made it worse. Was I supposed to go casual? Dressy? Prepare for another lizard-wrangling situation?

When I finally arrived at the little café Vi had texted me the address to, my stomach was doing Olympic-level flips. I scanned the room, half-expecting to see another “Chad” flexing in a corner or someone waiting with their tarantula perched on the table.

But there was no Chad. No lizard. No tarantula.

Just Vi.

Sitting at a small table by the window, nervously fiddling with her rings, her usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. She looked up, and when our eyes met, she gave me this small, almost shy smile.

I froze.

“This…is a joke, right?” I blurted, laughing nervously as I approached her table.

She stood up, shoving her hands in the pockets of her red jacket—the same one she always wore, but somehow it felt… different now.

“No joke,” she said quietly, her voice lacking its usual smugness. “I’m the date.”

I blinked. “You’re the date.”

She nodded, her lips twitching like she couldn’t decide whether to smile or run. “Yeah. Surprise?”

I didn’t know what to say. My brain short-circuited, replaying every moment we’d shared—the teasing, the late-night calls, the way my heart always felt lighter around her. How had I not seen it before?

“…Are you kidding me?” I finally managed, shaking my head with a breathless laugh. “You put me through all of that—Chad, the lizard girl, the Lana Del Rey monologue—just to end up here with you?”

She grinned, her confidence slipping back into place like muscle memory. “Well, technically, I needed you to realize everyone else sucks compared to me.”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart was racing for an entirely different reason now.

“You’re insufferable,” I muttered, sliding into the seat across from her.

Her grin softened into something more sincere. “Yeah, but… you’re still here.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that.

Because she was right.

I was still there.

We ordered our coffees—or rather, Vi ordered them. She didn’t even need to ask. She knew exactly what I wanted: an iced caramel latte and a chocolate muffin. It was such a small thing, but it hit me harder than I expected. She knew my order by heart, like it was second nature. And somehow, that simple gesture left me sitting there in awe, my heart doing this ridiculous flutter thing that I refused to acknowledge.

I watched her as she thanked the barista, her fingers tapping against the counter in that restless way she always did when she was nervous—or pretending not to be. When she finally sat back down across from me, her knee bumped against mine under the table. She didn’t move it.

The question slipped out before I could stop it, soft and almost hesitant.

“Since when?”

Vi tilted her head slightly, squinting like she wasn’t sure what I meant. “Since when what?” She scratched the side of her neck, her fingers brushing over the edge of her tattoo like it was a nervous habit.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

“Since when did you… want to go on a date with me?”

Her expression shifted. Just for a second. A flicker of something vulnerable slipped through the cracks of her usual confidence. But then she let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe I’d even asked.

“Being one hundred percent honest?” she said, leaning back in her chair, her arms crossed like she needed a shield. “Since I became conscious about anything in my life.”

I blinked. “What?”

She laughed again, a little softer this time. “I mean it. You’ve always been there, you know? But you were so busy with your face buried in those books, rambling about epic love stories and grand, sweeping gestures. And there I was, just… me.” She cleared her throat as the waitress brought our order, the clink of ceramic cups filling the brief silence.

She picked up her coffee, but didn’t take a sip. Instead, she stared at it like it held the answers she was too afraid to say out loud. “I guess I got a little self-conscious. Like, how was I supposed to compete with all those ‘great loves’ you read about? And you never really seemed to care much about dating, so I figured… if I said something, you’d just let me down.”

Her words hit me like a freight train—because how had I not seen it? How had I been so blind?

“I… I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. I stared at her, really looked at her, like I was seeing her for the first time. “I never thought that what I was looking for was quite literally right in front of me.”

Vi didn’t respond immediately. She just smiled—small, a little shy, but undeniably real. The kind of smile that makes your chest ache in the best way.

And that’s when it hit me.

I’d spent my whole life waiting for a cliché love story.

The kind with grand declarations, epic twists, and movie-worthy moments.

But what could be more cliché than this?

A slow burn, friends-to-lovers situation, sitting right across from me with a smug grin and a coffee order she knew by heart.

Maybe the love story I’d been searching for wasn’t in the books after all.

Maybe it was in the girl who’d been there all along.

I reached for my latte, mostly just to have something to do with my hands because my heart was practically sprinting. The ice clinked against the sides of the cup, loud in the quiet between us. Vi was still watching me, her gaze steady, like she wasn’t afraid of what I’d say next. Like she already knew.

But I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to string words together when everything inside me felt tangled—like someone had taken all the pages of my life, ripped them out, and shuffled them around until nothing made sense except her.

So I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head. “Because I’m an idiot?” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Or maybe I was just scared. Scared that if I said something, I’d lose you. And losing you… would’ve been worse than keeping it to myself.”

The honesty in her voice settled over me like a weighted blanket—comforting and overwhelming all at once. I thought about every late-night conversation, every casual touch that lingered just a second too long, every time she looked at me like I was her whole world, and I’d been too oblivious to notice.

Maybe I had noticed.

Maybe I was just too scared to admit it.

I glanced down at my muffin, untouched, then back at her. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”

She snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

I smiled, feeling it stretch wider than it had in a long time. “But so am I.”

The words weren’t grand or poetic. There was no sweeping background music, no dramatic lighting. Just the faint hum of the coffee shop, the cold of my drink between my hands, and Vi’s knee still pressed against mine like it belonged there.

And maybe that was enough.

No—it was enough.

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing over hers. She froze for a second, her breath hitching, then slowly turned her hand over so our palms touched. The warmth of her skin sent a quiet thrill through me, something soft and electric all at once.

“I think,” I whispered, “I’ve been on this date with you for years. I just didn’t know it.”

Vi’s smile was different this time—brighter, softer, filled with something that made my chest ache in the best way.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Me too.”

──────────────────────

We finished eating between bursts of conversation and laughter, and somehow, everything had changed while staying exactly the same. The comfort was still there, woven into the fabric of who we were, but now it carried something electric beneath the surface. The glances were different—the way her eyes drifted to my mouth when I spoke, the way our intertwined hands never strayed, like we’d forgotten how to exist without that connection.

The walk back to my house felt surreal, our fingers laced tightly together, neither of us willing to let go. Every step felt heavier with anticipation, like the world had tilted slightly, and gravity was pulling us toward something inevitable.

And then, standing at my doorstep, she kissed me.

It wasn’t tentative or shy—it was certain, like she’d been waiting her whole life to do it and wasn’t going to waste another second. It felt like being woken up, like every nerve ending had been dormant until that exact moment. My heart raced, but everything else stilled, like the world had gone quiet just for us.

It was the kind of kiss that rewrites everything you thought you knew about love.

Pieces of a puzzle perfectly aligned.

Vi’s hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and she kissed me like her life depended on it—like I was the air she’d been searching for. My fingers threaded through her hair instinctively, and she let out a quiet sigh against my lips that sent shivers down my spine.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, she rested her forehead against mine, her thumb brushing soft circles against my cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she whispered, her voice low and rough around the edges.

I smiled, my heart still racing, my hands still trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. “Then do it again.”

And she did.

Over and over, like she was making up for all the years we’d been too afraid to cross the line.

But we weren’t afraid anymore.

We stayed there for what felt like forever, just standing in front of my house, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. It was like time had paused, giving us this perfect moment where nothing else mattered but the two of us. The city sounds faded into the background, and all I could hear was the soft rhythm of her breath mingling with mine.

Eventually, she pulled back, just enough to look at me. Her eyes were full of something I couldn’t quite name, but it made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to let go of.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice softer now, like a fragile question hanging in the air.

I laughed, breathless, my fingers still tracing the edge of her jaw. “Are you kidding? I’ve been sure for longer than I care to admit.”

She smiled, a quiet, content smile that made me want to hold onto it forever. “Good,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine again, this time slower, like she was savoring the moment, taking her time.

We didn’t need to rush anymore. Not tonight.

We stayed close as we stepped inside, neither of us wanting to break the connection, like if we did, everything we’d built might shatter. Her hand never left mine as we walked through the door, and when we finally reached the couch, we sat side by side, still tangled up in each other, unable to fully separate.

The night stretched out before us, full of possibilities, full of all the unspoken words between us that no longer needed to be said. Every moment felt like a revelation, like we were discovering each other all over again, but in the most intimate way possible.

Vi’s head rested on my shoulder, her breath even and steady now, and I realized, as I looked at the way she fit against me, that this was it. This was the start of something new, something I hadn’t known I was waiting for but had needed all along.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” she whispered, her voice light with amusement but also a touch of something deeper.

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Yeah, we are.”

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t scared of what was coming next. Because it wasn’t about the destination anymore—it was about the journey we were going to take together, step by step, kiss by kiss.

And I was ready for all of it.

──────────────────────

masterlist

[valkyriexo]

He's the bad guy... DUH | OT8

ᑉ³pairing; OT8 x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff, angst (ish)

ᑉ³warnings; mentions of toxic boyfriend

ᑉ³Authors Note; Requested <3 Im going to be honest and say im not very confident about this piece... but let me know your thoughts

It had been weeks since your friends had started noticing the change in you. The sparkle in your eyes that used to be there when you talked about your work, your passion, your dreams—gone. The smile that was once so effortlessly bright had become a shadow of its former self. But you didn’t let anyone see it. You kept up appearances. You told them everything was fine.

But tonight, your friends weren’t buying it.

You walked into the living room, hoping to enjoy a quiet evening with your boys, but the atmosphere in the room was heavy, a tension that made your stomach churn. They were all there—Chan, Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and the others—but something about their faces made your heart drop.

There was a brief silence, and you could see them exchanging glances—none of them looking directly at you.

Finally, Chan cleared his throat, a slight shift in his posture as if he were gathering his words. "Yeah, uh… We’ve noticed… well, a lot of things," he began, his voice careful, almost too soft. "It’s just, we’ve been seeing you a lot less like… you lately, and it’s got us worried."

His gaze flickered down, almost like he was searching for the right words. He always had this protective nature about him, but now, there was a hesitation, as though he didn’t want to upset you. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"We’re just, uh… concerned," he said, his words slow, measured. "You don’t seem like yourself. And we can’t ignore it anymore."

You felt a pang in your chest, but you fought it off, trying to remain calm. "What do you mean? I’m fine, really." You gave a weak smile, but even you knew it wasn’t convincing.

Felix spoke up next, his voice gentle. "You’ve been distant," he said, his brow furrowed in concern. "You cancel plans all the time, and when we do hang out, you’re not… well, you. It’s like you’re carrying something heavy. You’ve been pulling away from us, Y/N."

You didn’t have an answer for that. It was true, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain why. Not like this.

Chan finally locked eyes with you, and there was an undeniable softness there, but something else—something urgent. "Look, we’re not trying to push you, but… this thing with him," he began, stumbling over his words. "We just—we don’t understand. Why are you still with him?"

Your chest tightened at the mention of him, and you wanted to tell them everything. How could you? How could you explain the tangled mess you had gotten yourself into?

Your mind raced, panic starting to rise. "No, no," you said quickly, shaking your head. "You’re just overthinking it."

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "Overthinking it? We’ve seen you, Y/N. You’re different. Something’s wrong."

You bit your lip, heart pounding. You couldn’t let them keep questioning you. You couldn’t let them find out the real reason you were struggling.

Not yet.

"It’s nothing. He’s just been busy, you know? And work’s been a lot lately," you said, your voice a little too sharp, trying to brush it off. "But he’s great, really. He’s just… got a lot on his plate too."

The words felt foreign on your tongue. You knew deep down that he wasn’t great—he hadn’t been for a while now. But you couldn’t let them see that. You didn’t want them to think you were weak or incapable of handling things. You didn’t want them to keep pushing and asking more questions.

Chan’s eyes softened, but there was a flicker of doubt. "Y/N, we’ve heard you say that before, and it’s not adding up. You’re telling us he’s great, but we can see you’re not okay. You can’t keep pretending."

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "I’m fine," you repeated, this time more forcefully. "Really, I am. Things aren’t perfect, but we’re working through it. It’s not a big deal."

But they weren’t buying it. Seungmin stepped forward, his voice quieter but filled with concern. "You’re always making excuses for him, Y/N. You’re the last person to say anything bad about him, even when we can all see how it’s affecting you."

A long silence followed. You tried to hide your unease, but it was like the truth was written all over you.

"I told you before," you started, but your voice faltered, making it sound weaker than you intended. "It’s not like I want to be with him. Things are complicated."

Hyunjin frowned. "Complicated? You think this is just complicated?" His voice was laced with frustration. "You’ve been hurting, Y/N. We see it."

Your heart beat faster, and you suddenly felt cornered. You weren’t ready to tell them the truth—not yet, not this way. But their faces were full of concern, full of care. You had to do something, say something, anything to get them to stop pushing you.

You shook your head, your voice cracking under the pressure. "It’s just… you don’t understand. He’s my mom’s boss’s son. She’s in a high position at the company, and things have finally started getting better for us—financially, at least. After everything she’s been through… if I break up with him, the company could find out. His family could use that against her. They’ll make sure she’s demoted, maybe even fired. She’s the main one supporting us right now, and if she loses her job, everything’s over. We’ll lose our house, we’ll lose everything. You don’t get it—I can’t do that to her."

The room was silent. Chan’s eyes were wide with shock, and the others were frozen, processing what you had just revealed.

Finally Felix spoke up. "Your mom loves you. She wouldn’t want you to keep putting yourself through this just to protect her."

You shook your head again, trying to hold it together, but the tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free. "I know," you sobbed, "but what if she gets hurt? What if all of this falls apart and we end up back where we were before? I can’t let that happen."

"You don’t have to protect her from everything, Y/N," Hyunjin added, his voice soft but firm. "You’re not alone in this. We’ll be there, every step of the way. But you need to let us help you. You can’t carry this on your own."

You could feel the warmth of their concern wrapping around you, but the fear still clawed at your chest. What if you lost everything because of one bad choice? What if it was all just too complicated to fix?

Jisung was the next to speak, his voice thick with frustration but also determination. "Y/N, he’s a jerk. You don’t deserve that. No one should make you feel like you have to stay in a toxic relationship just to protect someone else. Your mom, your future, your happiness—they matter too."

"I don’t care if it means starting over," Changbin chimed in, his gaze intense. "We’ll help your mom find a new job, one that doesn’t tie her to him.

You looked at each of them in turn, and for the first time, you saw not just friends who cared for you but a team of people who would do anything to see you happy, safe, and free.

"I don’t want to lose her job," you whispered, shaking your head in confusion and guilt. "I don’t want her to think I’m ruining everything."

Felix leaned forward, his eyes soft and steady. "She won’t think that. She’ll understand why you had to do this. You’re not ruining anything. If anything, you’re doing what’s right for both of you. You deserve a life that’s not weighed down by him."

"And you deserve to be treated with respect," Seungmin added firmly, his voice full of sincerity. "This guy? He doesn’t care about you. But we do. And we’ll fight for you, even if you’re not ready to yet."

Chan gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice calm and steady.

You felt your heart swell with gratitude, the knot in your chest loosening just a little more. It was still scary—breaking free from something that had controlled your life for so long. But in this moment, surrounded by your friends, you could finally see a way out. You didn’t have to stay stuck. You didn’t have to let someone else dictate your worth.

"Thanks," you whispered, your voice full of sincerity. "I don’t know what I’d do without you guys."

With their words echoing in your mind, you let out a long breath, your shoulders relaxing. You still had a long road ahead of you, but now, you weren’t walking it alone.

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[pa-pa-patato]

is it possible if you can write another bendystraw oneshot? I really love them and your ideas about them

“At least I don’t kiss you when I’m drunk!”

Everyone was having a good time at the living, some were playing games, while others talked among themselves and Cup and Bendy began to bicker like they usually do which is why no one was paying much attention to them, Until now.

Everyone turned to look at Bendy whose smile fell as he noticed the mood in the room shift and Cuphead who was red in the face with the most bewildered look they’d ever seen.

“….what?” Boris finally spoke up destroying the silence the room had, “ok I know cheap shot given I don’t drink anymore-“ Whatever Bendy tried to say was cut off by Fanny laughing “That’s not what he meant! You kissed him?” She turned to Cuphead a sly smirk on her face as she questioned him. He couldn’t answer opening and closing his mouth in shock luckily or unluckily Bendy spoke again “Why are you so smug? Do you know how many times I had to pull you and Red off of each other while drunk?” The ladies in question immediately looked at each other in complete shock and embarrassment.

But Bendy wasn’t done just yet.

“And you!” He pointed at Holly who was already blushing a bit, “Do you have any idea how many times I had to hide your compact so you wouldn’t call Alice in the middle of the night to tell how ‘she’s so pretty and she should ditch all those pesty boys trying to court her and kiss you instead’?” Now she was full-on blushing, her face completely red.

“And you.” Bendy turned to Oddswell, his voice gentle now “I wanna know what happened that night at the bar with Winston” Oddswell looked embarrassed for a brief moment before nodding slowly choosing to ignore everyone’s gaze.

Cup still wasn’t saying a word, his eyes completely focused on Bendy and Bendy alone.

The rest of the day was spent with everyone ignoring the topic as best as possible. Expect for Bendy, Who still had no idea why everyone had that kind of reaction in the first place.

Bendy left saying he needed fresh air and Cup followed saying he was going out to smoke.

“You know I got out for ‘fresh’ air right?” Bendy waved the smoke out his face giving Cup an annoyed look, Cuphead responded to that by blowing smoke directly at him making him cough, “Seriously man?” He whined earning a chuckle from Cup.

“Sooooo” Cup started awkwardly “I kiss you when I’m drunk?” He avoided Bendy’s eyes as he asked, Which in turn made Bendy roll his eyes “Yeah but we pretty much established that it’s a normal thing to want to kiss your best friend” he turned to look up.“Besides you were drunk so not like it means anything”

“So if I were to kiss you right now it’ll mean something?”

The question took him off guard and made him snap his head back to look at Cup who was peacefully continuing to smoke, The air around him suddenly felt suffocating.

It seemed as tho the smoke had completely inhaled him making him unable to see anything but Cup, the smell made him want to cough again but he stayed silent for as long as he could ignoring the seemingly innocent glances Cuphead gave him.

“No.”

He finally said his voice sounded too dead even to himself, Cup only gave a long hum in response as he turned towards him blowing smoke into his face as he spoke.

“So it will mean nothing to you?” “Nothing at all.” And with that, his lips met Bendy’s

Is it still lying if they’re both aware of the truth?

[cicadasides]

left on read by my own grandmother after i told her how i felt about her and my grandfather’s support of tr*mp 👍🏻

[sharkieboi]

found the stupidest hack to finally wash my dishes and it’s literally just don’t change out of my work uniform when I get home

[syluss-littlecrow]

better than the devil

<sylus x fem!reader>

where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡

w/c: 2.9K

a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹

They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings. 

The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out. 

“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone. 

Then his gaze shifts to you. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves. 

“Your horns.”

Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now. 

Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit. 

“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”

“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.” 

His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours. 

You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon. 

“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“

“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise. 

You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”

Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap. 

You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.

Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that. 

You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base. 

“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.

“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears. 

So you decide to leave it for now, at least. 

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.

He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance. 

“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.

"No."

“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”

He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.

“No.”

You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago. 

While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?

Or he’s just straight-up taunting you. 

You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.

You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable. 

He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.

Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.

Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them. 

Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them. 

His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head. 

“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown. 

You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did? 

Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out. 

“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.

You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.

Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed. 

Close call. 

You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round. 

So you do.

Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.

And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.

So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time. 

And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong. 

Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.

So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns? 

With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus. 

You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns. 

You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.

Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.

“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.

Fuck.

You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile. 

Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption. 

“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…

The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk. 

“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed. 

“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”

You swallow hard. 

His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.

“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow. 

You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.

In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.

You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.

You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven. 

His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain. 

“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back. 

“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up. 

He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”

He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.

It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him. 

Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his. 

But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek. 

His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties. 

Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls. 

He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.

“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles. 

“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”

Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”

Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock. 

“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.

“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”

You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping. 

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.

So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze. 

You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.

“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base. 

His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too. 

“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants. 

Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart. 

Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.

Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.

As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus. 

“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.

Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed. 

He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load. 

He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes. 

“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”

He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner. 

“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”

Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.

[pacofprunes]

let me help ya’ relax.

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — noncon, public (voyeurism), tears, kissing, use of the word bitch, use of the word rape, pussy kissing, choking, slight / barely but manhandling,

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

“hey beautiful.”

“the hell?”

standing right in front of you, or rather over you, player 230. it was night and everyone was asleep or sitting in a corner somewhere. you didn’t know this guy besides seeing him the first two games and seeing him act like a fucking lunatic. you sit up and gather yourself.

“what do you want?”

“oh you know, just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.”

he does a cheeky smile. you stare. what do you even say to that. thank you i guess…?

“uh—”

“no need to thank me, it’s what i do. just such a great fucking guy right?”

he picks at the cross on his neck before pulling a pill out and holds it out to you.

“you use?”

“what?”

“drugs. do you do drugs? or have you done them before?”

how the fuck did he manage to bring his shit in here for one, and for two; why the hell is he more worried about doing drugs rather than living. that’d be the last thing you’d be thinking about.

“no. i dont do them and i dont have any interest in that.”

he does a fake pouty face.

“come on babe, loosen up ya’know? don’t wanna stress your pretty little face out.”

he pops the pill in his own mouth. where was this guy going with this? he clearly wants to stay here, hence the big blue ‘O’ on his jacket. so if he’s bored he should go talk to the people on his side. how the hell could you relax watching people you’ve gotten close to or even have just spoke to once die? meanwhile this dudes been jumping around having the time of his life while he’s been here. if this game ended tomorrow, he’d join it again a million times over. or maybe he wouldn’t but the drugs in his system sure as hell would.

“yeah, no… i appreciate your kindness but i don’t even know you and i think i’m just gonna lay back down.”

he grabs your hand and starts shaking it aggressively.

“my names thanos, it’s great to meet you! now you know who i am.”

he smiles again. you just stare. that’s not how it works at all. you could tell he was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you just brush it off and tell him again you’re going to lay back down. before you go to turn over and lay though, he grabs your face with both of his hands and presses your lips together into a deep kiss. he holds you there for a good while, and it felt like you were suffocating.

“what the fucks wrong with you?”

“baby, you could be my new drug! change that ‘X’ into an ‘O’, we’d be absolutely unstoppable!”

“this is real life you idiot, not some fucking video game!”

you slap his hand away from you and try telling him to get lost, but he just grabs your wrist and pushes you back onto your bed. you yell at him to get the fuck off of you but he just presses a finger up to your mouth hushing you.

“sex is a great way to relieve stress. just let me make you feel good. don’t be too loud though, unless you want the others to see us. but by all means, do it. it’s only going to make me harder.”

he laughed and winked at you. you suck the air through your teeth and he still holds onto your left wrist with one of his hands while letting the other one push at his chest. you’re more cautious with your voice level now and in a whisper you try again to get him to go.

“i don’t want to have sex with you, can you just go? go jack off in the corner or mess with literally any other girl here!”

he ignores you for the time being and goes to push your pants down, but with your free hand you grab his hand to stop him.

“gee babe, how sweet of you to wanna hold my hand! but uh, i kinda need it to get to the fun part.”

he ignores your hand continuing to grab at his, not proving to be much use at all besides annoying him. he pushes your pants down, and then your panties to your ankles; acting as sort of some form of restraint. it would prove to be somewhat more difficult to kick at him now as your footing would get caught in the pant legs. he sits up off of your chest finally and starts to pull his pants and boxers off. you wanted to scream at him so badly to get off of you, to scream for some help, but you knew nobody would and all they’d do was watch. it wasn’t anybody’s problem and they weren’t going to make it theirs.

he cups your sex and starts rubbing circles at your tiny little hole to get you all soaked and ready for him. he leans down and he kisses it. he was literally about to start making out with your fucking pussy.

you squeezed your eyes shut and a couple tears come sliding down. god, first you’re in this game that seems normal, then people around you start getting shot, nobody wants to go home, and now you’re getting rapped by some crazy ass drug addict that calls himself fucking thanos. thanos! you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his thumb on your face and him wiping your tears. you slightly open your eyes and he kisses you again. this time with your free hand you push as hard as you can at his face. he moves back and he makes an ‘ow’ face and rubs his forehead. he grabs your used to be free wrist and just pushes it to your side and holds it there.

“it’s always the prettiest bitches that play fucking hard to get.”

he lines up his cock with your somewhat wet hole. he maybe would’ve spent a little more time prepping you but you just ticked him off and he wasn’t going to help you anymore than he already has.

“it’s alright, i’ll have screaming my name and this whole place will know it by the time we’re done baby!”

oh god you were gonna be sick. you feel the sudden intrusion and you immediately tense. biting your lip back from screaming and shaking your head, tears flying left and right. you try to bend and claw your fingers at his hands that are holding yours down but it proves to be futile. you yell at him, while still keeping your voice down to stop and that he’s gotten enough and that he should go.

“agh—please—”

“please? you—fuck’—you want me to please keep going? well you don’t have to tell me that, i was already going to!”

he keeps a fast pace going, and the bed might as well of slid off of the shitty bars it was being held up on. everybody sleeping above you could definitely feel the whole thing moving. you try to fish your legs out of your pants legs to at least have some sort of way of pushing him away but it proves to be slightly harder than you thought.

“fuck babe—you feel so—fuck- so fucking good.”

he sucks the air through his teeth breathing heavy, while you’re doing the opposite and holding your breath.

“god you’re so tight, and you’re so — m’- so hot. i wish i could feel every inch of your — agh - you’re body but you’re too much of a fucking bitch, so i gotta keep ya’ still.”

he stops at an in thrust and moves his face down to yours, causing his cock to go deeper in you and causing you to bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. he presses his forehead to yours, your sweat causing them to almost stick together. he whispers to you while keeping perfect eye contact.

“but you’re my fucking bitch right? you’ll be my dumbed out little whore, baby. should get a tattoo on ya’ that says thanos’s bitch.”

he laughs, now moving down to your neck, starting to kiss all over it. leaving sweet marks all over as he starts thrusting into you again. you just feel his heavy hot breath against your neck and you just stare up at the bars above you and hold in the choked up sob threatening to come out. you feel his cock tense in you, threatening to shoot his load out and your eyes widen. he starts thrusting harder. he lets go of both your wrists and before you can even breathe out, relieved from the slightest bit of less pressure, he wraps both his hands around your throat and looks you in the eyes the whole entire time.

“come on bab — fuckk’- babe. look at me pleas- come on, watch how good you — you make me feel.”

you start to scratch at his his hands and his arms. he’d most definitely be marked up all over by the morning. finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. you finally decide to look him in the eyes, sending him a pleading look to stop and to quit choking you, your face slowly starting to turn a shade of blue. upon your eyes looking at him, seeing those teary orbs and pleading face, it sends him over the edge. he sends a curse your way before he surprisingly pulls out, his load going all over the bed. he lets go of your neck and pulls up his boxers, falling on top of you. his weight making it hard for you to completely catch your breath. you start to choke and hiccup on your own tears before he looks up at you and strokes his hand across your face, catching a few tears in his hand.

“i told you it wouldn’t be bad at all. don’t you feel a little more at ease now? are you prepared for the games tomorrow?”

not at all. was he fucking delusional? he lays his head back on your chest, looking up at you like a child, and rubs his hands up your sides.

“tomorrow when we vote, you better change to an ‘O’. wouldn’t want my pretty girl to betray me after all.”

he does a fake pout at the end of that. you go to sit up to pull your pants back up but he stops you.

“uhm, allow me. wouldn’t want you to do any hard labor! i’ll take care of it all for ya.’”

he pulls your panties and your pants up and sits up off of you, getting his own pants situated. he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the top of it, looking at you in your eyes with a smile, your eyes still watering. and you send a glare his way.

“ouch babe! you hurt me here.”

he smacks his chest a couple times where his heart was.

“i’d stay here and sleep with you, but my friends will want a piece of you too if they find out that’s what i did tonight.”

you shudder at the thought of that.

“but dont worry. i’ll see you tomorrow. i’ll see ya at breakfast, yeah?”

he pulls you in for one long kiss and you push him away and he almost falls into the next bed over. he grabs at his heart again dramatically.

“ugh, i don’t wanna leave you. we’ll talk tomorrow though, kay? maybe have some more fun too.”

he winks at you again before turning over his shoulder and literally skipping away, running with his arms in the air and his hands in fists. you just hug your knees, crying into them, and now more than ever you wanted to go home. god this was so fucked. you just wanted to go to the bathroom and wash all over yourself but you knew they wouldn’t let you in. you just keep a tight grip around your knees, trying to find some sort of solace while you’re stuck here.

[mostly-imagines]

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[tonycries]

Brooklyn Baby - G.S.

Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.

Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)

A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 

Art by @_3aem on X.

Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 

And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 

You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 

Whatever, part of the job anyway.

It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 

Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 

“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”

You were not jealous. 

Suguru knew you were jealous.

Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?

He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 

That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 

The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?

Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.

“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?

He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 

Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.

The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna help me with it?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 

Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 

“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.

It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 

“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 

“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 

In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”

“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.

He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.

Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 

“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 

You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 

Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 

Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.

He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 

Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”

He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 

“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 

“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”

Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 

His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.

God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.

Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 

Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.

“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.

You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.

“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.

Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.

Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 

His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 

Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 

You have no idea what you do to him.

Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 

“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 

You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 

He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.

Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 

Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.

Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.

“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.

You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.

Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.

He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 

Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.

Shit, he was really feeling it today. 

Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 

You were, too.

If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.

“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 

“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.

He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 

Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 

“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.

“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 

“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”

“Yes.” 

At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 

“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 

It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 

He just can’t get enough.

He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 

“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”

“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 

Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 

Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.

“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 

He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 

His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.

You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 

He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 

“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.

Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 

Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”

Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.

As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.

“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.

He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 

Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 

The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 

Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.

Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.

In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 

You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 

Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 

“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 

“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 

“Be mine.”

And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 

Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.

As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.

Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 

Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.

“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.

The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 

Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 

“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.

“Ah- um-”

“You-”

Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.

“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 

Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”

“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 

Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.

“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 

‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.

Blinding lights. 

Deafening screams.

Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 

But he only wanted to fuck you.

A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[gghostwriter]

Wanted: A Gentleman

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2 || Future take Summary: Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.3k a/n: Back at it again with something miss Sabrina Carpenter inspired. The fluff idea has finally struck and I love how this ended up, even without any editing! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

“I’m serious!” You clarified, wiggling to get comfy on Penelope’s sofa. “It was the worst date I’ve ever been on!”

All the three girls laughed. It was Friday night, girl’s night, and you found yourself surrounded by the baddest girls Virginia could ever offer. The Powerpuff girls of the BAU as you once jokingly dubbed them—JJ being Blossom, Penelope being Bubbles, and Emily being Buttercup. Witty thinking on your part, if you say so yourself. 

Having just moved into the state just a few months ago, you were grateful for the ray of sunshine that Penelope was for taking you under her wing and introducing you to a great set of girlfriends.

“It can’t be that bad—” JJ giggled as she took a sip of her newly refilled glass wine. “Can it?”

Bringing out your phone, you swiped to the screenshot Bumble profile of your date the night before. He wasn’t bad looking, not at all. He was cute in a very American boy next door type of way but then again, his profile being filled with gym pictures should have clued you in.

“We had dinner at that newly opened restaurant, Palm & Pine, which is a great place by the way, but all he ever did was talk about himself—”

Emily nodded along. “Typical macho male behavior.”

“—that wasn’t even the worst part! He brought out a scale, a portable weighing scale, to log his macro calories in a fitness app!”

Penelope chose the wrong time to take a sip of her drink causing her cough violently while the two remaining girls threw back their heads and laughed hysterically. All you could hear were gasps of weighing scale and calories between them.

“I’m all for being healthy but really? On a first date?” You crossed your arms to your chest. “At this point, I might as well get a cat or two to keep me company.”

Penelope snatched your phone and clicked to open the dating app. “Oh no no, sweetheart. You’re too beautiful and nice to end up alone. We can find you a perfect man to love and take home with!”

“Yeah, we’re profilers. Trust us to pick for you,” Emily slyly added as she peeked behind Garcia’s shoulder.

Reaching out for the opened bottle of alcohol, you sighed in defeat and let the girls do their thing. “I’m going to need copious amounts of alcohol in my system for this.”

———

It was bad. Based on all their comments and numerous swipes to the left, the dating pool was atrocious, hell on earth. 

“He looks cute—” Penelope continue to scroll on his profile before making a face. “Never mind, look at that horrible grammar.”

JJ leaned in and read the poor man’s bio. “Theirs a million reasons why I’m your future boyfriend—Jesus, it’s really hard out there, huh?”

“I’d take any man who’s nice and breathes,” you laugh in despair. 

Emily’s eyes twinkle from a sudden idea. Everyone had been drinking continuously and the filter had been turned off by the time the third bottle was opened. Any thought made beyond just screamed bad idea. “You know, we could just set you up with Reid.”

“Reid?” you tilted your head to the side. What kind of a name is that? Its very…unique. “You have a co-worker named Reid? As in that’s his first name?”

“No, no, no. His name is Spencer, Reid is just his last name,” JJ clarified, leaning forward with a sweet smile on her face. Oh no, you knew that look. She was very much into this.

Penelope slides your phone to you and promptly claps her hands in glee. “You’re so right! Why didn’t I think of that!”

“Right,” Emily turned to face the other two. “They’d be great for each other. Now we just have to get him to agree. JJ—” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “—can you talk to Reid about it?”

She shrugged. “I could but you know how stubborn he is.”

“I’ll blackmail him if I have to,” Penelope interjected. “Boy genius needs to meet our own girl genius. They’ll be perfect for each other, he just doesn’t know it.”

Your eyes volleyed in between the three. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

Emily tsk’ed as she turned her inquisitive dark eyes on you. “I’ll cash in on that prize I won last time.”

“No,” you breathed out, remembering how you badly lost last poker night and vowed to do any dare the winner would tell you to do.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes,” her smile growing wider and wider with each denial. 

Your shoulders slumped forward. “Fine but he better be the love of my life or you owe me big time.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head. He will be,” Penelope laughed, pouring more wine in all of the glasses. “Cheers!”

———

It took three weeks before the girls were finally able to wear the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid down and in the midst of waiting (and stubbornly hoping that he would never give in), you learned more about the boy genius than you ever wished for. How he has an IQ of 187, graduated high school at the age of 12, has 3 PhDs under his belt, and an avid reader—like yourself. 

You begrudgingly admitted that he spiked your interest and having someone to talk to about books would be lovely but beyond that, you were slightly intimidated by his background which made yours, a literature degree graduate and publishing editor, seem insignificant. Penelope tried to squash that negative thought once you aired it out in the open by saying that Spencer wasn’t the type to judge anyone based on their societal standing. If anything, he’d find you interesting, she urged.

But there was one information you weren’t privy to, how he looks like. The girls didn’t want to show any photos, stating it’s best to see him face to face rather than through an image, which in turn made you imagine the worst. 

You looked around, standing on the second step of the museum as you try to spot any curly, hazel haired man walking your way. He wasn’t late, you were just too anxious to be fashionably late. 

Someone stopped in front of you at the bottom of the steps. 

“Are you—” the doe eyed stranger cleared his throat. “Y/N? Penelope’s friend?”

Oh damn. He was beautiful.

“Yes, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” You squeaked. 

He smiled, stunning you into even more into awe. “Hi, yes. Yes, Spencer is fine.”

“Should we go inside?” You breathed out as you watched his cheeks reddened, no doubt matching the color of your own.

He nodded before slightly touching your arm to stop you in place and bending down like he was some kind of knight and shining armor and for all you knew, he could be. “Your shoelace is undone. Did you know that there’s more than 1,000 cases related to loss of footing each year and 67% of these falls were attribute to untied shoelaces?”

“We wouldn’t want to contribute to that, do we?” You quipped back as you studied how the sunlight hit his wavy locks, turning some into gold, and his doe expressive eyes with specs of green in them. Your favorite color as of today.

He laughed, his high pitched chuckle further capturing your heart. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” 

Your thoughts thanking the three women for setting you up with what seemed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[starryjake]

Heyy girl I’m obsessed with your writing could you do like what would enhypen do if they were jealous? I feel like that would be sooo good! 🙋‍♀️🔥🔥

(a/n sorry this took me forever to post 😍😍)

heeseung: def the most nonchalant about it. like you couldn’t even tell he was jealous at the bar you guys were at with friends, so that’s why you were so shocked when you two got home and he was suddenly taking it all out on you.

fucks you rly rly hard and rough, gripping onto your hips hard enough to leave finger imprints. he’s def hitting it from behind because it’s the position where he can be roughest and manhandle you the easiest. he’s just spitting out the nastiest, dirtiest sentences to you. :(

“i don’t want another guy in your vicinity ever again,” he spat. “you fucking hear me?”

you sniffled, turning your head to the side. your entire body bounced from just how hard he was giving it to you.

“yes,” you whimpered out.

he grabbed you by the cheeks and forced your head to look at him.

“can’t hear you,” he nearly growled.

“yes, heeseung!” you repeated. “don’t even want any other men—fuckkk—near me.”

he slapped your ass harshly and continued pounding you. you were practically dripping wet so he just knew you were enjoying this.

“that’s what i thought, princess.”

would cum all over you to mark HIS territory!

jay: visibly pissed. it just makes him SEETHE seeing another man trying to flirt with HIS girl. and it makes him even more pissed that you’re so oblivious, not catching on at all that this guy clearly fucking wants you.

still, he’s a gentleman. once you walk back over to him, he forces a smile and tries his very best to not show that anything is wrong. he ushers you to the car, eager to get the hell home.

you’re barely through the door when his arms are wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his body.

“you know who you belong to, baby, don’t you?” he asks, dark eyes scanning your face.

“you, jay,” you say, slightly confused as to why he would even ask that. “you know that.”

“yeah,” he mutters. “do me a favor, yeah? go upstairs and get on the bed. i want you naked and i want your legs spread, hear me?”

how he could be so soft spoken yet stern at the same time was beyond you.

“jay, wha—”

“now, angel.”

you don’t argue. you’re quick to leap upstairs to your shared bedroom and strip out of your clothes and undergarments, laying spread on the bed just like he told you to.

five minutes later and jay is between your legs, giving you the most sloppy, toe-curling, delicious head of your life. he’s absolutely worshipping your pussy, making out with your clit and diving his tongue into your dripping hole.

“fuck, jay!” you cry out, shamelessly grinding your pussy against his face.

“my fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your folds. “no one will ever eat this pretty cunt like i do. all mine.”

his words send you flying over the edge, and you’re quick and eager to return the favor to him once you’re done.

jake: my pouty baby :( the type to get the saddest out of all of them, starting to feel insecure when he saw you talking to another guy and laughing so hard at what he was saying.

when you made your way back over to jake, he was quiet and out of it, so it was clear something was wrong. however, he said it was nothing, so you dropped it.

back at home, he’d be clingier than usual which gave you the impression that something was wrong, but you still didn’t know what.

it was only when you’d be getting ready for bed that jake would ask something like, “you only love me, right?”

and then by that sentence alone, you just knew he was jealous. to prove how much you loved him and only him, you showed it to him in the best way possible.

that was how you ended up kneeling between his legs with his cock all the way down your throat. he would be so much more sensitive than normal, feeling like electricity was flying through his body every time he thrusted into your mouth.

you felt so bad for making him think you could’ve ever been attracted to anyone else, so you let him fuck your mouth as long as he wanted, not even minding how much you were gagging and how much saliva was drooling out the sides of your mouth.

you swallowed all his cum because you’re his good girl after all <33

sunghoon: like heeseung, doesn’t really show that he’s jealous. he just gets super quiet and you literally have to PRY it out of him to find out what’s wrong.

“just don’t like how that guy was lookin’ at you,” he would mutter, avoiding eye contact at all costs since he’s so embarrassed. :(

you would feel so bad and you just want to make him feel better, so you do so in the way you know he’ll enjoy the most: riding him. <3

he watches with blown out eyes as you sink down onto his cock, both of you letting out a sigh of pleasure simultaneously. it never got old: that feeling of first being intertwined with each other.

you plant your hands on his abs for leverage and slowly raise yourself up before lowering back down, slowly milking his long cock.

within a few minutes, you’re bouncing rapidly up and down his length and his lips are attached to your nipples. he’s moaning around the hard bud and your fingers are tangled in his hair.

“i love you,” you tell him through heavy breaths. “just you, hoonie. fuck.”

he’d look up and attach his lips to yours, embracing you in a kiss before he dumps his load deep into your pussy and keeps his cock stuffed inside you for the rest of the night.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Bringing another girl home || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Rafe pranking his family by saying he’s bringing another girl home 🫢

Warnings: mentions of drugs, fluff? other than that nothing!!

Word count: 877

A/n: hehehe loved this. does anyone have any dad!rafe requests??? haven’t wrote one in a hot min

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“That’s so cruel, Rafe,” you say with a playful edge, delivering a light slap to his shoulder. He bursts into laughter, his wide grin never wavering. “It’ll be funny, you’ve got to admit,” he says, nudging you with a glint of mischief in his eye. You roll your eyes, trying to keep a straight face. “Fine, it would be pretty funny,” you concede, chuckling despite yourself.

Rafe’s plan to prank his family by claiming he’s bringing home a girl—who isn’t you, his girlfriend of four years—sounds completely bonkers. Yet, the thought of how Rafe’s family will react had you intrigued. You lean over to set your glass down, asking, “Are they all home?”

Rafe hums thoughtfully, scrolling through his contacts until he finds Rose’s number. You sit up, facing him as he tries to hide his grin, pressing the call button. After a few rings, Rose answers, “Hello?”

“Hey Rose, what’s up?” Rafe says with a casual tone. “Just got back from picking up Wheezie. Are you guys out on the water yet?” Rose asks. You exchange a nervous glance with Rafe, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re out here. Y/n’s just taking a nap right now,” Rafe replies smoothly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Rose’s tone shifts to one of concern. “She did seem tired today. Have you told her to take it easy with work? I know she’s been working hard for her boss—”

“Yeah, yeah, listen,” Rafe interrupts, “Could you do me a favor and take Y/n’s stuff out of my room?”You slap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter. “What?” Rose’s voice is tinged with confusion. “What do you mean—“

“Well, at least the stuff lying around and the pictures,” Rafe continues, muting himself briefly as he suppresses his laughter. Rose’s confusion turns to frustration. “Rafe, what are you talking about? Take Y/n’s things out of your room and get rid of the pictures—what’s going on?”

You hear rustling in the background and a faint voice that you recognize as Wheezie’s. “What happened?” Wheezie’s voice is concerned. “Your brother is acting very strange right now,” Rose responds, her voice growing more exasperated.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Rose’s tone is incredulous. “I’m bringing a girl over,” Rafe says nonchalantly, and you struggle to keep a straight face. There a brief pause on the other line.

“What girl? I hope this girl is Y/n, your girlfriend, Rafe!” Rose speaks up, her voice now angry. You hear Sarah’s voice join the conversation. “What is going on?”

“Your sisters are here. Tell them what you just told me to do,” Rose says, her frustration evident. You and Rafe exchange worried glances, realizing the prank is escalating.

“Uh, I want all of Y/n’s things out of my room and the pictures as well,” Rafe repeats. The silence on the other end is thick with disbelief. You quickly take Rafe’s phone and mute it, both of you breaking into laughter.

“What the hell, Rafe? Who is this girl? Do I know her? Why are you bringing her home? Are you out of your mind?” Sarah’s barrage of questions makes it hard for you to keep a straight face.

“This has to be a joke, right? Y/n’s right beside you, isn’t she?” Wheezie’s voice is tinged with suspicion.“She’s not, she’s asleep,” Rafe replies. You hear a flurry of voices in the background as Rose, Wheezie, and Sarah talk urgently.

Then Wheezie’s voice rises, “Dad! Come here and tell your son he’s an absolute idiot and loser for cheating on Y/n.” Your eyes widen at the mention of Ward. “What?” His voice is loud and filled with anger as he joins the call.

“Rafe, please tell me your sister is just joking and you’re not about to fuck up your life,” Ward’s stern voice cuts through. You grab the phone again, muting it. “This is going too far, Rafe,” you say, worry creeping into your voice. Rafe snatches the phone back, a mischievous grin on his face.

“What do you mean? It’s just getting started,” he says, unmuting the phone. “No, they’re not, Dad. I’m being serious. Can you guys just do this for me? She’ll be over for dinner too,” Rafe continues, as Rose gasps in the background.

“No way in hell am I letting—” Rose begins, but Ward cuts her off. “Son, you better think long and hard about this because you will not be welcomed home, alright? I don’t know what drugs you are on right now and I couldn’t give two shits about it, but you are not bringing another girl over here other than Y/n, you’re girlfriend, for heaven’s sake! Do you understand?” Ward’s voice is stern and unwavering.

You and Rafe are taken aback slightly by the intensity of the reactions on the other end of the line. Realising the prank might have gone too far, you quickly grab the phone.

“Uh—” you cut Rafe off, your voice steadying as you say, “Guys, he’s just kidding! I’m right here beside him!” The relief is palpable as you hear them all collectively sigh on the other end.

After a few more minutes of the Camerons giving you both a hard time about how the joke was way out of line, you finally hang up the phone. Rafe pulls you close, guiding you to lean against his chest. His arms envelop you in a warm, reassuring hug.

“My family just loves you, don’t they?” he says with a smirk, his voice full of playful sarcasm. You look up at him, laughing softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love from his family. Even with all the chaos, you can’t help but feel good knowing they care so much about you.

[klemen-tine]

Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)

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

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

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

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

@Rosecentury 

@Problematicreblogger

@Kurai-hono-blog 

@Lunaluz432

@testishere

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?” 

“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?” 

“Yeah?” 

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

“All of them.” 

“...what?” 

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

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

“Let's leave tonight.” 

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

“....Y/N, is everything okay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what about you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

++++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an adult.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That they are the Wayne family. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I’ll never let you go again.’ 

________________________________________________

Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.