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Fateful Beginnings

XXXIV. “the affliction of pity”

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce is forced to look in the mirror after the next morning’s antics with you.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, bickering, hurt/comfort, splash of angst

words: 7k

a/n: more Alfred in this chapter !! let’s goooo !! more of a few things 😌 pretty significant chapter, might I say 💬 setting some seeds…

As you rolled over in bed the next morning, everything felt normal. Until you remembered you were in his clothes, in his house, and you’d hugged.

And the gun to your head. That too.

You checked your phone, at a measly eight percent. There were two missed calls from Dr. Crane. You sat up in a rush and called him back, worried something might have changed. He picked up on the last ring this time, a shift that caused a wash of anxiety to run through you.

“Ms. Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I missed your call.”

“As am I. How was Mr. Wayne last night?”

Shit. In the bustle of the evening, you’d forgotten. You lowered your voice. “Fine. We were able to touch base, and everything seems to be going well.” You stammered along. “I didn’t see any of the side effects you mentioned, either.”

“When will you see him again?” His tone was terse. Evidently he didn’t like when you didn’t answer.

“Today, actually.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask why. He didn’t.

“I don’t need to remind you of the stakes. I anticipate another update tonight or tomorrow.” The line clicked off. You wished you hadn’t taken the call first-thing, and struggled to shake it off as you walked down to get more Tylenol. You wondered if this much acetaminophen was good for you, but figured this much pain wasn’t, either.

Thankfully you didn’t have to dig for the Tylenol, or a glass, because they both sat at the counter beside the fridge. Your head hurt less, but your leg was positively throbbing. Bruce wasn’t in the kitchen, which you were grateful for. Last night’s memory was rapidly sinking into you with an anchor weight, particularly how you’d offset your conversation until some time this morning. You didn’t feel nearly as uninhibited now, and didn’t know if you’d be able to bring anything up.

You grabbed a protein shake and walked up the first stairwell. You held in a gasp when Alfred appeared, dressed immaculately as ever, as if he got a lovely full night’s rest. Part of you suspected he heard your shrieking cries, but he didn’t give it away if he did. “Morning, Miss. Would you like breakfast?”

You held the shake up. “I can just have this, thanks.”

“It’s no issue. I’ll be making some for myself and the boy. Come down in ten minutes.” He waved dismissively at your ‘meal’ and headed downstairs. You wondered what the hell he could make with only a few veggies, chicken, and ice cream. Maybe he had a secret butler lair with anything Rapunzel could ever want.

You turned to walk up the second set of stairs when a sleepy voice halted you. “How’d you sleep?”

You didn’t look at him, forcing your eyes to remain forward. Anxious butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the memory of him, on the brink of passing out, holding you while you sobbed. Your throat tightened, shy. “Fine.”

“Want to talk while Alfred cooks?”

You didn’t, but that gave you a time constraint. Alfred would save you from whatever awkward, embarrassing territory you and him might venture into. You still didn’t face him. “Okay.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Where is there?”

“The study, your room, mine. Anywhere.”

Your cheeks reddened at how genuine he still seemed. You’d fully expected him to act like last night never happened. You didn’t want to go in either of the bedrooms, and you eyed the old man’s study just up the stairs. You gestured to it, and heard him follow close behind.

The room was exactly as you remembered it; a thick wood table with a seat behind and in front. There was a decent-sized rug by a fireplace with some newspapers scattered around it. You cringed thinking about sitting across from him so officially, so you went to sit on the floor. He followed your lead, sitting a few feet away, closest to the papers. You fiddled with the unopened drink in your hand, moving its weight from palm to palm.

“How’s your pain?”

You sighed, an embarrassed grin exploiting your cheeks. “An attentive host.”

He waited, and you glanced up at him for the first time since you’d hugged. He had the same pants, and a different shirt. You inhaled so quickly you almost coughed. “I’m sorry about last night,”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m serious. It was weird and awkward of me,”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You shook your head loosely, biting your lip. His eyes focused there a moment before flitting down.

“I want to help.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears beginning to well. You were frustrated and self-conscious of how much strain you’d put on him. “You’ve been nothing but helpful.”

Bruce was quiet, watching you try to force back tears and channel your energy into one of his protein shakes. He didn’t know how helpful he’d be perceived when, after breakfast, he’d have to have another talk with you, essentially demanding that you’re never seen in the city again. He pondered how manipulative it was not to disclose that prior to asking you to open up, which clammed him from speaking.

The room felt staticky, like if you reached into the air, the tip of your fingers might spark. You figured he was being quiet so you had space to speak. The skeptical part of you wanted to tie your lips closed, ranting about how he didn’t want to give this to you, he felt he had to. The sensitive side yearned for someone to hear your pain, and he was being persistent about it. It was blood-curdlingly difficult, but you took the first step—chucking the words out of you while forcing your anxieties to the back.

“I’m just lonely.” You stared down at your hands, setting down the drink so you could wring them. “I thought coming here for school would give me community.” Your voice was shaky but you tried not to think about it, throwing the words out as quickly as they formed. “It made it all worse. I had this fantasy that the size of the city would energize me, but it’s just spitting me out.” Tears sprung to your eyes, forcing you to pause, rubbing your eyes hard. “Sorry.”

He could feel the desolation oozing off of you. Every time you apologized made him more indignant. “I’m not judging.” You glanced at him as you removed your hands from accosting your delicate corneas, and he nodded for you to continue.

The combination of his attentive presence and kind reassurance made the tears pass the floodgates. The words were coming quicker now, less inhibited. “Being home isn’t fun either, my mom’s cancer is just, they don’t want to talk about it.” Frustration bled. “They’re acting like everything is fine, like nothing is different. I don’t like being around them and I hate being away.” Your throat was constricting as you held back full-bodied sobs.

Anger was beginning to creep in, your face contorting into a glare. You still weren’t looking at him, looking off to the side, unfocused. “I had this friend group back home but they don’t give a shit about me. I don’t know if they ever did. I have Mar here, but she just parties all the time, and she didn’t even, she didn’t even ask how I was before she left yesterday.” You could hardly believe it hadn’t been twenty four hours yet. You could hardly believe how whiny you were acting.

The devastation and anger was riling you up, making the words spill out before you even comprehended them. “And I fucking hate that I’m even saying all of this right now. The gun, the fucking, the interview, you breaking down in that fucking alley wouldn’t have even happened if I weren’t meddling!” You were beginning to pant.

“Hey,”

You didn’t hear him, and started shaking, breathing so fast you could hyperventilate. Your thighs were starting to become a receptacle for your tears. “I thought he was gonna kill me, I’ve never seen a gun that close; I yelled at you and, kicked you out and, and, you’re tied up and,”

His hand on your knee made you shriek, slapping your palms to your cheeks as you folded over, wailing. “Everyone’s gonna die, everyone around me,” you gasped between every word, which rapidly devolved into trying to catch your breath in painful puffs.

He was melting like butter. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

“Look at me.”

You wanted to say no, but you didn’t want to further inconvenience him. Meeting his concentrated gaze filled you with cavernous shame, your eyes stuttering down to his chin in subtle avoidance.

“Stop apologizing.”

Another lump jumped to your throat.

“Can I hug you?”

You nodded, relief pooling in your stomach at his request. You wanted another hug from him even if you weren’t losing your mind. “Please.”

This was foreign to him, but it was the only thing he could think to do. He wrapped his arms around you again, and it felt just as desperate, just as necessary, even for him. You didn’t cry as much as when he hugged you the night before, seemingly getting a lot of it out beforehand, and he struggled not to stiffen when your breathing began to even out, and your sniffles waned. Quickly. Very quickly. Your shaking slowed until the only movement was your breathing. That ‘please’ stuck to him like velcro.

It was extremely disorienting. He’d experienced people clinging to him in the suit, looking at the cowl with a frantic desire to be soothed, but never just as him. Not once. He didn’t know he could calm someone like this as Bruce.

You pulled out of the hug and sniffed, getting up to leave. You almost apologized. “I need to blow my nose.”

Alone in the study, he was worried he’d panic. The way you’d said it, it seemed not like you’d wanted a hug, but that you’d wanted a hug from him. ‘Please’ like you’d wanted one already but wouldn’t ask. ‘Please’ with your eyebrows knitting with neediness, ‘please’ cutting through the tears and shame even when his words didn’t make a dent.

He sat in a haze of dismay as disappointment crowded him at your departure. This wasn’t good.

He stood up to leave, mentally rehearsing a ‘need to shower before breakfast’ shout as he walked past the hallway bath, but you’d already come back.

Both of you wanted to hug again, but neither said so.

“Setting the table.” Alfred’s voice floated from downstairs. It almost sounded like he was whistling.

Bruce walked past, but you caught his elbow. “Thanks.”

Your lashes were still clumped together from crying. Your eyes were puffy and red. His hand twitched to wipe the tears still lingering on your cheekbone, but he cringed instead. “Don’t thank me.” He hurried down the stairs and hastily shut the door to his room.

Doing your best to ignore the tinge of frustration coating his tone, you met Alfred in the kitchen. The scent of a fresh omelet wafted from the stove out to the foyer. He had three table settings in the same fashion as last time, and you sat at your place with your hands tucked in your lap. Alfred was whistling, a jazzy sort of tune, as he scooped up the first one and walked toward you. “Same ingredients as your last visit. No peaches.”

Visit. What a kind way to dress it up. You thanked him as you took the plate, suddenly struck by a hazy memory of Bruce tilting your chin up to drink Benadryl. You swore you could feel his finger there now. You swallowed.

You weren’t in love with eggs by any means, but Alfred made them look salivating. It was plated to perfection, intimidating you nearly into not wanting to eat it. When he walked over with a pitcher of orange juice, you wondered where they’d come from—until you noticed an empty bag of orange netting sitting across the kitchen in the pantry. A few rinds were discarded near the stove, and you hurried to pour some for yourself. Bruce was woken up every morning with fresh squeezed juice? Or at least had the option?

The coolness of the juice was everything you needed, a balm to your hot throat. A satisfied chuckle came from the stove as you reached to pour a second glass. “Sumo citrus. Out of season, but still quite stunning.”

“I’ll drink you out of house and home.”

Alfred finished dishing up, and pulled out his chair before frowning. You followed his eyes to Bruce’s empty seat. After the short pause, he wiped his hands. “Ah, well. We’ll get started without him.” His cheery demeanor was infiltrated by a short grimace, undoubtedly perturbed by Bruce’s absence. “If you fancy any salt, pepper, let me know.”

He’d seasoned it spectacularly, and you told him so after your first few bites. Your stomach felt like an empty pit, realizing you hadn’t eaten more than the odd granola bar in days. You finished quickly, leaving little space for conversation, and he gestured to the stove. “Would you like more? I made an extra.”

You nodded, and he took your plate with a wink. “Finally I have someone who enjoys my cooking.”

“It’s stellar, really.” You eyed the orange juice, now with only a third of the pitcher remaining. You ate the second omelet, surprisingly just as warm as the first. Alfred had just finished his, taking a sip of his juice.

“Thank you. I needed that.” Your eyes trailed across the table to the glaringly empty seat, feeling dejected. He probably hadn’t come because you’d been too much, gone too far. Not only had you pushed the boundaries, you’d obliterated them. Why had you agreed to hug him again? Why had you let yourself lose control in front of him, again?

You’d forgotten how perceptive his butler was, too. He set his utensils in the middle of the plate, untucking his napkin from his lap. “I apologize for his behavior, Miss. It’s truly abhorrent.”

You shook your head so fast you saw stars. “No, it’s fine. He’s had a long day, and night,”

“So have you.” He gathered both of your plates and disposed of them in the sink. He rested his hip against the counter, tucking one hand into his pant pocket, the other grabbing the cane resting nearby. He sighed. “Feel free to have the rest of the juice, a shame for it to go to waste.”

He looked tired. Not as tired as the last time you came, but nonetheless. You obliged, already feeling the pressure on your bladder. You must’ve had half a gallon of this stuff.

Alfred’s head cocked toward the foyer. Bruce appeared not a moment later, his expression distant and cold. He slid into his seat and dug in without comment, not looking at either of you.

You set your glass down, your stomach flipping. You had half a mind he had simply taken too long in the shower, and tried his best to hurry, but no. In the same outfit, same dry hair, like he’d just been ignoring you.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Alfred glance up to the ceiling before tossing a dish rag over his shoulder, getting to work at the sink. You stood to join him, but he waved you off. “Appreciate it, Miss; you need to recuperate. I’ll manage.”

You stood there between the table and the sink, the already dim energy in the room withering further with every second Bruce remained unspeaking. You blinked a few times, unnerved and upset, walking quickly out of the room. You ducked around the corner, hoping they thought you gone. A few moments later, Alfred spoke.

“Bruce.”

“Don’t want to hear it.” They were both speaking hushedly, though Bruce was admittedly not trying as hard to muddle his volume.

Alfred’s tone was the coldest you’d ever heard it. “I’ve never been more embarrassed.”

Bruce didn’t respond, only scraped the fork against the plate as he likely hurried his meal.

“She’s been in a terrible situation,”

“I said I don’t want to hear it.” His tone was back to that very first night; back to the hallway at City Hall when you’d blackmailed him. That same haughty, defensive, biting timbre.

“I’m telling you regardless.” The sink stopped. “I fear you’ve become too desensitized for your own good.”

More scraping.

Alfred sighed, his tone gentling. “I know the last week has been difficult,”

Bruce pushed his seat out. “Going to talk to her.”

You tiptoed further into the corner, cloaking yourself in shadow.

“What about?”

“Getting her to leave.”

You’d never before heard Alfred scoff, but now you had. It was freakily uncharacteristic. “You’re better than that, Bruce. Do not.”

“Or what?” Bruce’s tone was mocking, the chair making a final thud into the table. You bit your cheek to abate the rising anxiety. Of course he wanted you gone. Of course you were nothing more than a nuisance. Rage nipped at your skin thinking about how he’d led you on, thinking that he might have cared.

Before Alfred could reply, Bruce emerged into the foyer, and immediately caught on to your presence. You glared at him, feeling tears smart your lashline again. His face fell with his shoulders and you huffed past him. “Y/N,”

“I’m grabbing my phone and you’re taking me home.” You were already halfway up the stairs, but he was catching up.

“Stop,”

You pressed on, breaking into a run up the second set.

He grabbed your wrist and you yanked it back, barely catching your balance. You whipped around, chest heaving, eyes wild. “Sorry for overstaying my welcome.”

You spun around and ran to your room, trying to slam the door but his foot stopped it. Tears streamed down your cheeks in silent fury. You grabbed your dress, shoes, and phone. “I won’t bother you at City Hall, don’t worry.”

“It’s for your safety.” His stepping into the room crowded it. He sounded exasperated. “You need to leave Gotham. Immediately.”

“You don’t get to boss me around.”

He scoffed. “Less than a week and you’ve already been threatened.”

“And he’s in jail whether I leave or not.” No longer giving a shit, you shimmied off the sweats and yanked off his shirt, leaving you in your bra and underwear. He averted his eyes and stared at the wall, audibly scowling. You threw them at him and they hit his shoulder. You wrangled your dress back on, still damp and awfully smelly. You sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on your loafers.

“It could happen again. You’re a target now.”

“I’m not leaving.”

He side-eyed you, checking if you were clothed. He loathed that he knew the color of your underwear now. “And I’m not cleaning you off the sidewalk.”

“Bruce Wayne would never have to do such custodial work.” Your tone was dripping in sarcasm and mockery, forcing him to grit his teeth. You were riling him up, you both knew it. You were riling each other, teetering on the precipice of words better left unsaid.

He stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. You glared at it. “You were going to leave last week.”

You finished fighting with the heel of your shoe, finally able to rush past him. He stepped in front of the door and your heart lurched into your mouth, eyes flashing. “You are not blocking me.”

He hesitated before stepping aside. When you put your hand on the doorknob he did too. “If this is because of last Thursday,”

“You don’t want it, I get it.” You jerked the door open, the phone falling out of your hand. You both stooped to reach it at the same time, your hands colliding once more. His hand tightened atop yours, forcing you to look at him. You ripped the phone away and swung the door open, leaving into the hall. He followed you out, draining the last bit of resolve you had.

“Is it a sin to make sure you’re alright?” You bit back the last half of what you wanted to say: ‘I already see how Alfred’s being punished for it’.

Bruce glared at you. “I don’t need babysitting.”

“It’s not just you.”

“None of it should be.”

“I wanna see where this election goes.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

You bristled, hard. “I do. I want to report on it.”

He rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that? In a city you hate?”

“I hate the culture. Which I could influence.” You made the mistake of wincing down toward your thigh, and he stepped closer.

“I want to help you.”

You glowered at him, unappreciative of his indecisiveness. Did he want to help you, or hide away in his room to try and forget you existed? “Would’ve been helpful to show up to breakfast.”

Bruce groaned. You had a physical reaction to the sound.

You hated it more than most things, more than you hated humid hundred degree days and men catcalling—but even when he was angry, and distant, and weird, you wanted to stay in his orbit. You needed to, or Dr. Crane would have your head… and maybe his. “I’m the only one outside of this place who knows. I can be a tool.”

“I have enough tools.” He hated the piece of him that wanted to give in. He hated how his voice lost its edge the closer you got to the stairs.

You were also excruciatingly aware of how close you were to the exit, and how much you didn’t want to take it. Squeezing your eyes shut and imagining the Bruce that cried into your palm was the only way to cool your temper. His hugs lingered not too far behind… if they were even real. The only thing that actually moved the words past your teeth was remembering how deeply you regretted being cold to him at your apartment. “I want you to have someone to go to. And I want someone to go to.”

Your candor surprised both of you.

“It’s not worth throwing your life away.”

The wear of this argument wasn’t sitting right in your chest, and it forced your expectations lower. You shifted quickly back to the matter at hand. “I’m staying in Gotham, at least for now, whether you want to acknowledge me or not.” You didn’t need to be on good terms to keep an eye on him. He’d still come to City Hall meetings, and you’d be able to give some updates to Dr. Crane until he was out of the woods. It would only be a few more weeks. And you would enjoy getting to hear the city’s voice, trying your hand with more interviews.

You turned and set off downstairs. “What’ll it be this time? Packing me in the trunk?”

He barely registered what you said, his eyes fixed on your back as you descended the steps. ‘I’m just lonely’.

He grabbed his keys and walked to the garage with you, instructing you to lie flat again. “I’ll drop you off a few blocks away.”

Staring at the black ceiling of Bruce’s car while you bumped through back alleys and cobbled streets was, to put it lightly, depressing. You were starting to get used to the pain, utilizing it to distract from your whiplash disappointment and deep-seeded fear about being home alone tonight. At some point you must have closed your eyes and been lulled asleep, because his voice startled you into sitting up.

“Just a few blocks south. Closest I could get.”

When he noticed you’d fallen asleep, he drove around a few more miles so you wouldn’t be disturbed. He only started winding back in the direction of your apartment when he heard you begin to whimper. His hands had tightened on the wheel, his teeth gritting, as they so often did around you. He thought he’d mastered letting Alfred’s disappointment seep like guilt through his skin, but he couldn’t stop the thought he might be misrepresenting you.

Selfishly, he’d been centering himself in your distress, when in actuality… your life was bigger than that. You had parents to worry about. Friends to be disappointed with. A burgeoning journalism career to dive into, to which the corners of the internet were behaving like piranhas. A gun to your head, and an empty apartment in a city that genuinely seemed hell-bent on hurting you. Spitting you out, as you so eloquently put it.

Maybe he was pitying you, now.

The Moore was not-so-conveniently located on one of the main streets of town, forcing him back into a side alley between an old pharmacy and a deli that wasn’t open half the time. In the early days he’d stow the Batmobile here. The brick hadn’t changed much, a few new potholes. Wasn’t frequented enough to be as decimated as the roadway. He parked here when he’d visited you those few times.

He woke you, and while you roused, pulled your recorder and notebook out of the passenger glovebox. He’d circled back to Miller’s car on the way to your friend’s before the police got to it. He just hoped you didn’t make too big a deal out of his remembering.

Thankfully, you didn’t. You looked a bit surprised, but took it without comment. You looked disheveled, tired, pained. The passenger door swung open after he told you which direction to walk.

“Can your friend stay with you?”

You’d nearly shut the door on him before he spoke. Too tired to lead with irritation, you gave him a lackluster response. “It’s Friday. She’ll be out clubbing.”

You hesitated before shutting the door, wanting to thank him, but too hurt to commit. You fought not to think about how his laser eyes were focused on your back as you walked away. Struggled not to recall the weight of him.

Walking around Gotham in midday was like walking around an entirely different environment. Late morning to mid-afternoon was the only time kids were seen, and only with older siblings or adult family members. You couldn’t imagine growing up here. How it might harden a person.

It was a massive triumph pushing open your apartment door while holding a feeling bordering on terror that someone was waiting to jump you. You rushed in and shut the door like when you’d watched something scary as a kid. When the anxiety got too high, and you were positively certain a demon was rushing behind you to beat you to your bed.

In a blink you’d shoved a chair under the handle. Once in your room you walked its perimeter, checking all corners of the bath, under the bed, and resigned to shoving the couch in front of the door. A hazard if there was an emergency, but you couldn’t prioritize anything else right now.

You went to get water at the sink, feeling like a paranoid freak inspecting the jenga at your entryway. Once a-fucking-gain your thoughts wandered to the city’s prince; how silly did he think you? All this over one gun? I take fifty billion a night. A dark streak of violence ran through him, one that wasn’t evident in his arms, or gazing into his sleepy puppy eyes… You slammed the rest of the water, almost choking on it.

If you thought too long, you would break down, so you drew up an imaginary list of tasks to keep yourself tethered, trying to ignore how the water was beginning to sour the more you smelled the city’s backwash on your clothes. First: shower. Second: nap.

It was a Herculean effort not pressing DOWN when the elevator doors opened. Alfred was sitting across from it in the kitchen, his hands clasped together on the table. His gaze was focused precisely at eye-level, like he’d been a statue primed for Bruce’s arrival. “I want to talk with you.”

He looked at the ground, stepping out. “I’m going upstairs.”

“No, Bruce.” His tone was deadly serious, with a shaky undercurrent. Bruce conceded, as he so often did once Alfred got to this point. He didn’t come closer, only stepping out enough for the elevator doors to close, making up the difference by stepping to the side.

“I’m disappointed in you. Deeply.”

Bruce stared at the ground. He figured he’d have something to say to him about your leaving, like he had any idea what he was talking about.

Seemingly sensing his frustration, Alfred’s tone softened. “Seems to me you both could use a friend.”

“Look where it got you.” With a shrug of his shoulder, he gestured to where Alfred was sitting. It was evident by the way Alfred’s face fell, and his strict tone, he was referring to Riddler’s blowing up the top of Wayne Tower.

He didn’t miss a beat with his curt response. “Look at where it’s gotten you.”

Bruce slowly glanced up, struggling to see the full features of his face in the unlit kitchen, but still managed to meet his eye, sensing plenty more where that came from.

“Dory and I are getting older. If you keep following this path,”

“Alfred, stop.”

“I’m afraid you’ll end up entirely alone.”

The room’s ensuing silence chewed at that word, alone. Bruce wondered how he could slip past the man without escalating things. He knew he wouldn’t be let off without responding. He knew these situations all too well. “So I should risk someone’s life, for what? Temporary company?

“People come and go, that’s how life works.”

Bruce stepped forward, trying to work up the courage to storm past. The fuel wasn’t entirely there yet. “I’m not speeding up the process.” No matter how many times he explained this to him, he never got it. He never understood he was doing what he had to do, and that—

“The least you can do is be kind to her.”

Alfred was slipping under his skin again. “I am.”

The butler’s voice raised slightly. “By leaving her alone?”

“It’s for her safety.” He took another step, tempting a getaway.

“Or for yours?”

Bruce blinked hard. The old man never failed to tie a rocket to his shoes, and he propelled himself across the kitchen and nearly made it halfway before he spoke again.

“Don’t think I forgot what you said that night.” Alfred shifted in his seat, the boy now a few feet closer. He knew he was losing him, his hairpin trigger temper always half pressed when he spoke. Sometimes he felt like Bruce was waiting for him to give up with his fingers crossed behind his back.

“Year after year you’ve denied my every demand for your safety. Every time you’ve struck it down, as if each night you’re out planting flowers.”

Bruce looked everywhere but the table’s vicinity. “I don’t know what point you think you’re making.” He cloaked his words in as much snarl as he could, hoping he would get the hint and stop where he stood, before stuffing the air with more life lessons.

“Yet, after my accident, I noticed you changed the suit. You began coming home earlier.” Alfred stood up, and Bruce stepped back. He leaned on the cane, taking off his glasses with the other hand. “You know what you do is dangerous.”

He let out a brittle, taunting laugh. “That’s what I‘m saying.” Maybe he was finally getting the point. Maybe he would finally stop wasting his time and keep his projective, sentimental thoughts to himself instead of dragging them both down with it.

“Not in that way, Bruce.”

Sometimes Bruce wished Alfred could read his mind, hear all the things he wanted to say but kept hidden. Right now it was a lot of grumbles, some pointed accusations, but nothing unfurled on his tongue. Instead, his body reacted, quickening his heartbeat and narrowing his eyes.

“I think it goes both ways.” Alfred set his glasses on the table. “I believe you’re afraid if you let someone close, you’ll put them in the same position you once were.”

Heat bloomed in Bruce’s throat, and he tried to storm out of the room and escape the clouds weighing down the ceiling, but Alfred tossed another hook into his arm near the doorframe.

“And if you were honest with yourself, truly faced what you endure each and every night, it would feel like looking down the barrel all over again.”

Bruce could’ve screamed. He wanted to. He could’ve done a lot of things, but his mind was fuzzy. All his tired body did was tremble. All his mouth did was bite his cheek. Say the most benign version of the dialogue swarming inside. “You don’t know what I think.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was a bluff. He felt the tips of his fingers go cold.

“It’s far easier to disregard your life when you have no one to answer to.”

“I’m answering to you, aren’t I?”

Alfred paused, his voice lowering and slowing. “I often think you wish you didn’t have to.”

He locked eyes with him in an instant, Bruce having a visceral reaction to what he was insinuating. Did Alfred really think he didn’t care about him? Was his behavior being represented that poorly? His body filled with blue and purple emotions, his stomach tightening, face heating. The bruise fronted as defiance. “I’m doing what I need to. I—”

Alfred’s voice was bored, frayed. “‘Have a duty’. Yes, boy.”

Bruce bristled, hard, and visibly so. Alfred caught it, and felt a desire to rescue him, looking decidedly dejected. After the last week, however, he knew he couldn’t let things slide as he used to. The path he was on was destructive, and walking away wasn’t going to change anything. “You also have a duty to yourself.”

Bruce shook his head, his vision blurring slightly. “I don’t care about that.”

Alfred hesitated to go this route usually, and reserved it only for occasions supremely deserving—this was one of those times, though he was concerned how it would go over. Bruce was standing a few feet from him, between the fridge and the kitchen’s entry, his eyes darting across the ground like his head was swarming with thoughts. “Your parents would want you to be happy. Are you happy?”

As expected, Bruce responded with silence. Silence that cut Alfred’s heart in two. He knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t seen a genuine smile from him, or a full-bellied laugh for that matter, in decades. It might have even been since that night. The boy held so much pain, and kept so isolated. He gulped back tears.

“What I’m doing is more important than that.”

Against his better judgment, he folded. Bruce never liked to see him cry, going stiff and static. He didn’t do it often, but worried about burdening the boy so soon. So he sighed, shifting the subject. “If you don’t check on Y/N tonight, I will.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and set it near his glasses, moving his hand up to massage his temple.

“She doesn’t want pity.”

He held back another sigh, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Care and pity are not the same, Bruce.”

Alfred left first, not wanting to chance the boy’s tender conscience with any more guilt at having left preemptively. It wasn’t unusual for these conversations to end with Bruce coming into his room later that night with a thinly veiled olive branch.

Once in the confines of his room, Bruce nearly missed the edge of the bed, fighting off disorienting swells of emotion that left no energy for proprioception. Possibly more than he ever had, he wanted to curse Alfred out. Run into his study and tell him he had no idea what he was talking about. But his body was telling him otherwise. Telling him he was right. He was isolating. It was obscenely dangerous. He didn’t want to look at it.

Care versus pity. Every face from his childhood stuck to the back of his retinas. The pouting, downturned faces at the funeral. The ‘gentle’, rather condescending tone that echoed off the tower walls for years, until people stopped caring. Until he stopped trying. Until he stopped visiting his parent’s room and bolted the lock.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and clenched his core, subtly rocking back and forth, juxtaposing the two scenes, a task which felt like drowning—whatever happened last night and this morning, and absolutely everything he’d ever experienced from everyone else.

One felt warm. Uncomfortably so, but nevertheless comforting. The other was distant, and cold.

He tried to avoid it again, unclenching his stomach and stripping as he walked toward his bathroom. He turned the shower to scalding, and stepped in, hoping it would soothe his aching muscles to sleep, maybe beam Alfred’s confrontation out of his brain.

One felt like a balm, or a salve. The other felt like it carved him out deeper, eviscerating his insides. One told him it would be okay, and the other said he’d never be the same again. Their eyes gutted him. Told him his parents were gone, slaughtered, murdered. He ran some shampoo through his hair.

He lathered his body while it sat, feeling every pass over scar and scab. He loathed being in his body. Being aware of the injuries painting his skin. The drain in his bones. He was usually adept at avoiding it. Grinding until he passed out the instant his head hit the pillow. Sleeping in until it was time to suit up. Time to plan. To think about anyone else’s problems besides his own.

A bubble of soap slipped in his eye, and he flinched.

He suddenly felt like crying.

Pulling on your own sweatpants and a baggy hoodie was a luxury as you prepped to visit Rai’s. Frustrated at your screaming stomach that wouldn’t let you simply sleep the rest of your life away, you popped a small-dose edible so it would kick in after you’d come back and finished eating, letting you have a semblance of peace the rest of the evening. At the very least it would lower the risk of you screaming into your pillow all night.

Same walk, same street, same people, same sky. The constant ebbs of injury had colored you blue. A leaf startled you on its crunch, the sudden movement and barely-tempered shout causing the parents and children to slink away from you on the sidewalk. You kept your head down the rest of the route.

Rai was helping another customer when you arrived, but he gave you a small wave. You never liked to crowd people, especially the older customers that came in who lived in the historic buildings nearby. They treated Rai’s like a full-on grocery, sometimes bringing their own cart to fill. This lady, with her wispy gray hair and thick red sweater was one of those patrons.

You pulled a sweet tea from the drinks, and an orange soda. Rai was chattering away with the lady, who had ostensibly selected one of everything in the store. You reveled in having less time to spend in your apartment, and wandered to the chip aisle while you waited for your turn at the counter. Your fingers traipsed through rows of Ruffles and Lays, when you felt a buzz in your pocket.

Alfred.

Jesus, fuck. You raced to set the drinks down, your heart pounding. You’d left him in another state again. Too harsh, too unforgiving, fuck! “Hello? Alfred?”

“Hey.”

Bruce answered, and a concoction of relief and bitterness settled on you like a blanket of snow. “Hey…?” Your fingers tightened around the phone.

“I was wondering,” he drew a sharp intake of breath. “If you wanted to watch a movie or something.”

Shit, how out of sorts was he? “Like tonight?”

“Like tonight. I could go to your place, or,”

“Mine’s fine. I’ll bring the TV by the couch.” You were buzzing. You couldn’t very well decline, or what might he get up to? Was this his way of asking for help? You also couldn’t very well ignore the twinge of relief that having company would bring, even if it was his. Or the single atom in your body that preferred it to be him.

“Want me to bring anything?”

Your eyes flickered to the deli. “I’m good.”

“Half an hour work?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

Bruce hung up, heaving a deep breath. He flopped onto his back on his bed, Alfred’s phone falling out of his hand near his pillow. He felt better now. And worse. A little bit of everything.

What does someone wear to watch a movie?

After a few minutes he strolled to his closet, and thumbed a hole in his only clean pair of jeans. Hmm.

Dior. Prada. The sound of metal hangers sliding on a metal rod. Gucci. Dolce & Gabbana. He eyed the black jeans again, and the matching pair of trodden Converse in the corner. He pulled them on and grabbed the least distressed tee from his dresser… they were all worn thin.

It didn’t matter. Did it? No.

He grabbed his keys and headed for the basement. He’d have to leave through Wayne Terminal, take the beater car, drift. He passed Alfred on the stairs, noting the fresh outfit and shoes. “Going out?”

Bruce nodded, not saying anything until he turned into the kitchen and was fully out of view. “Checking on her.”

Alfred grinned with the sound of the elevator’s descent.

Fateful Beginnings

XXXV. “bittersuite domesticity”

parts: previous / next

plot: you and Bruce bond, a task more pleasant than either of you anticipated.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, substance use, fluffy fluff 😏

words: 8.1k

a/n: i think y’all are gonna like this chapter 😇 yes the title is a play on words... iykyk (🎵)

Suddenly, idling at Rai’s had much higher stakes.

You tried to relax and peruse the back aisles, but more customers arrived. You got in line behind the older lady while Rai attended to his kind community member duty of speaking with her like an old friend. Elderly residents nearby weren’t able to get out much, and he picked up a lot of the slack. Except right now, that duty had you frustrated and overwhelmed in waiting, the grumble in your stomach starting to have a bite. At this point it had to have been fifteen minutes, meaning Bruce would be up in your apartment in fifteen… fuck.

You did a last circle around the store, eyes flitting between snacks, slushies, candies… You kept looking back trying to catch his eye, hoping he might get the hint and step aside for a second to help you. It wasn’t working, and your leg was beginning to sore. Glancing at her cart, they still had a bag or two to fill. Shit.

You grabbed a few extra candies and got in line behind her, resigning to stay put and let fate take over. Upon hearing the rustling of your items, she looked over her shoulder and grinned at you. “Skittles! Oh, I love those little things. Have you tried the sour ones? I keep them stocked for my grandson. Speaking of…” She held up a hand to Rai and wandered back to the candy aisle. Fate!

“Can you check me out really quick?” You showed your few items, and he nodded. “In a hurry, huh?”

“Yeah. Would you be able to grab me some uh,” You peered through the glass and saw the tabbouleh was out, and you chose the item falling into vision next. “Chicken tenders. Can I have half a pound?”

“Sure.” He bagged it, glancing as he closed the bag to see the woman arriving back. He handed it over and winked at you. “You can come back sometime this week and pay.”

”Really? I can—”

“Here you go.” The lady placed a few bags of sour skittles on the counter with a smirk. You nodded to Rai who nodded back, and after a quick thanks, hurried back up to your apartment. He’d be there in seven minutes. He seemed like the person who was usually early.

By the time you made it back to your apartment, it was the time of his arrival. You hoped he was caught up in traffic or something (not likely…) and tossed the food on the counter, the legs of the dining table scraping against the floor in the most grating fashion as you pulled it in front of the couch. Midway through unplugging the television in your room and prepping to carry it out, you heard a knock at the door. You hoisted the TV into your arms and staggered through the door to place it on the table, where it looked unseemly. On your way to let him in, you noticed you didn’t have an outlet nearby. Ugh.

Bruce had given himself a pep-talk on the drive, coaching himself on what to say to you. He knew he wanted to apologize, that much was extremely clear. He went back and forth on telling you the pity thing, because the revelation was genuinely so simple, but endowed crucial context…

It was starting to sprinkle; end of August meant Fall was practically a week away, which was a slippery slope to the highest crime events of the year. Going into 2024, he didn’t think he’d have to worry about an election for at least another year or two, and he wrestled back fears of another Election Night 2022 debacle.

Soon he’d be able to get back out there; usually this time of night he’d be headed down to the basement after a quick meal with Alfred. Drawing up some plans for the evening (that were usually disposed of due to unforeseen circumstances) before suiting up. He expected his body to feel more antsy to get back to it, or feel considerably slower, neither of which he did. His wounds were healing, his left leg still ached but nothing he couldn’t drag his mind away from. Tonight felt quiet. Nights like these invariably left him suspicious.

He waited a few minutes in his car, parking in the same alley he’d dropped you off in. His palms were starting to perspire, knowing he was going to answer to you in whichever way you held him. As much as he desired to spend the whole night stalling, that was his problem. He’d been avoiding you earlier, avoiding being cared about, and avoiding being caring. While he didn’t much care about the implications of isolation and avoidance as far as he was concerned, he didn’t like you being in the blast radius. If the hugs had told him anything, it was that you were already hurting more than enough. He was done putting you in jail for the crime of caring.

You deserved a proper apology, and that was what he’d give you.

Walking toward your apartment while the nightcrawlers were just getting started made him uneasy. Every man he passed on the sidewalk that looked down at his phone had him biting his cheek, gripping the fabric of his jacket pocket, enraged. Which of these pathetic freaks wrote about you?

As he reached your unit, the rage was dimming. When you opened the door, he noticed you looked tired, but not exhausted–that was good. You stepped aside for him to walk in, and he shed his top layers, fighting against his manufacturing to make sure the apology actually got past his lips.

Bruce was in a black outfit, with his usual thick jacket and hoodie pairing. Your body had an immediate response to his presence after the argument, reflexively turning away from him and stiffening. Locking the door behind him felt superfluous in his presence, but you did it anyway.

He removed his jacket and hoodie as he walked the expanse of your floor, draping them over the back of a chair. Your eyes searched his body for evidence of injury or duress, and for about the millionth time since you’d been around him or Alfred, you wished they didn’t read body language like the written word. His tone was soft, apprehensive. “I thought you might want some company.”

Thought I might want some company? You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms. “So you’re not in crisis?”

“You thought I was in crisis?”

You looked to the ground. “We argued again, so.”

He didn’t appreciate being perceived to the point of recognizing character changes, like how strange it was for him to request a movie night. He rarely asked it of his parents as a kid, their busy schedule leaving the invitation up to them on the rare occasion it ever came. Alfred was always the one to initiate after their deaths, but he’d stopped asking after the twentieth time Bruce had isolated to his bedroom instead.

Thinking back to how busy his mother had been, a thought struck him: were all the ‘vacations’ she went on actually her being admitted to Arkham? Had they hid it that well? Something must have flit across him then, because your eyes were darting across the plane of his face with increasing confusion.

He shook his head while he recovered words. Even thinking about the photos of his mother Riddler had posted didn’t render him as discomposed as this morning, when simply being around you felt like a knife lifting his nailbeds. Alfred had made some unfortunate points that painted you in a much better light. “I’m not in crisis. I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier. I was avoiding you.”

You didn’t know why you got anxious when he said that, but you did. He put his hands in his pocket and struggled to make more than intermittent eye contact. He heaved a large sigh, which made you especially attuned to what he might say. Swore you could feel the hairs of your inner ear buzzing with anticipation.

“I appreciate you opening up to me.”

Hearing words like apologize and appreciate felt foreign from Bruce. You’d heard variations of them before, yet it remained uncanny. Like his mouth wasn’t used to forming the words. They didn’t seem to roll off his tongue.

“But…?” You braced yourself for him to assert that the two of you couldn’t speak anymore. That a boundary had been crossed. That he appreciated you opening up, but he didn’t want that to happen anymore. That he was glad to have helped you, but he didn’t want to make it a habit.

His brow cocked. “What do you mean?”

Your tone was petulant, brittle. “You appreciate my opening up, but ‘we don’t have to do this anymore’. Or maybe you’d rather ‘I don’t want it’?”

An extended silence, leaving a lot of room for your mind to fill the blank. Some time for your eyes to roam about his outfit, his hair, his face. The wear evident in his shirt, seeing some of his skin peeking through. A hole at the bottom of his left pocket. How he double-knotted his Converse.

When he spoke next, it was through closed eyes. “I’m not good at this. I’m not used to any of it.”

The hugs? The conversation? Being cared about? The whole city cared about him. The whole internet. In some ways, the whole world. “Used to what?”

“The only care people have shown me is through pity.”

You felt one of your defenses shatter, your shoulders becoming a bit lighter. “About your parents?”

He nodded, becoming sheepish. He detested being this open, it drained him, but he wanted to return the favor of your earlier vulnerability. “Yeah. Everyone still looks at me like I’m that kid. No one saw me, they saw what happened to me.” And you saw me hung unsaid, on the edge of his teeth. “You checking on me and opening up felt like pity. Everything does.”

It felt fucking weird to use his words like this. His voice was going dry from talking so much, even though he really hadn’t talked much at all. Maybe it was the things he wasn’t saying. He wanted to look over at you, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins at feeling exposed was excruciating. If he looked at you right now before you spoke, he’d fill in the blanks. The valley between his share and your response felt painfully raw.

You said what you thought, your mind thunking the pieces into place plainly and neatly. “That makes sense. I never thought about that.” It wasn’t the most flowery response, but you noticed his shoulders stop tensing. “I’m sorry if I played into that.” You sighed, feeling like you should’ve put the pieces together sooner yourself, without him having to hand it to you on a platter. Hmm. Why might someone who endured a national tragedy as a child be annoyed with people’s concern?

The sound of a knock at the door startled you. You and Bruce exchanged a look, and you backed off while he walked to the peephole. It was then that you realized you hadn’t checked it before opening it earlier, assuming it was him. You couldn’t forget again.

His hair rustled against his forehead as he turned around. “It’s Gordon. Probably here for your statement.”

“You can hide in my room.”

He walked into it and shut the door seconds before you opened to two officers, only one of whom you’d seen before.

“Is this the residence of Y/N Y/L/N?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Detective Gordon, as you could see via his badge, stepped in alongside a mustached officer. Martinez was his name tag. “We’re here to collect your statement on the assault that occurred 28th of August, on the corner of Bushnel and Tally. I’d ask if now is a good time, but we’re already late to collect, our apologies.”

You invited them in and tried to play off that they had nowhere to sit. “I’m waiting on some new furniture,”

Det. Gordon shook his head, taking out a notepad. “All good, ma’am. We should be no longer than a few minutes.”

And a long few minutes it had been. They asked only the most basic of questions, such as where he kicked you, any words he said, any threats he made, and if you were aware of any prior history between you and the assailant. Martinez held up a camera, asking if there were any visible injuries. You held out your hands initially, seeing the scabs on top of the knuckles, but you’d forgotten if they’d come more from trying to stop Bruce than the man himself. You stuck to showing them the bruise on your thigh, which you hadn’t had the chance to look at. Deep red, purple and gravelly, looking like you’d been skidding against the sidewalk. You figured falling out of his vehicle didn’t help.

Surprisingly, they knew about that too. You figured a certain vigilante had been the informant.

“Let me summarize to make sure we’re on the same page.” Det. Gordon flipped a few pages back, adjusting his glasses. Martinez was looking at the ground in front of him, his hand situated on his hip. He seemed to only be here for backup, maybe they had to come to these things in pairs. “Wednesday evening, you received a call from…” His voice dulled as he recited the events in perfect detail, each additional sentence drilling into you how intense the past two days had been. After what felt like a lifetime, he finished. “Is that correct?”

You nodded, your throat closing. Bruce had really saved you twice in forty-eight hours. Probably an attempt to cope, you thought about how Walter never had to worry about anything like this.

“I need verbal confirmation, ma’am.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Det. Gordon sighed, scribbling something else. “Looks like we’ll need to pay Mr. Wayne a visit.” Martinez perked at the statement, and you suppressed the ghost of a laugh. If only he knew Bruce was in the next room.

Det. Gordon closed his notebook, tucking the pen into the spiral. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Y/L/N. We’ll get back to you sometime in the next week with further details. Sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah, sorry that happened.” Officer Martinez tipped his hat at you in apology, following behind Det. Gordon, gently shutting the door. Not three seconds later did Bruce step out of your bedroom, face contorted in serious consideration.

“It never takes them that long to get a statement. Something big must have happened.” You could see in his eyes he was thumbing through all sorts of information in the back of his head. You giggled, a sound Bruce didn’t find completely unusual (everyone had different reactions to traumatic events, after all), but the sound itself embedded in his chest. You laughed again, and it pushed deeper. “What?”

“You just look so serious.” Another laugh slipped out, which snowballed into a laughing fit. Bruce wondered if you might start crying again, like you had the last time you laughed in front of him like this, but you didn’t, doubling over in bursts of giggles. His body was a disorienting blend of feelings in response.

When you opened your eyes after gathering yourself, your vision was hazy, your head a bit dizzy. Your chest felt light, and your eyes caught on the tenders sitting to your right on the countertop, your stomach grumbling. You fished one out of the bag, your eyes rolling back at its decadence. God, so fucking good!

Oh, fuck. You’d taken an edible an hour ago. You didn’t think you’d taken that much.

Bruce side-eyed you, having averted his eyes after feeling his stomach jump at the rolling of yours— suspicious of how quickly your face had fallen and how fast you moved from task to task. “Are you o—”

“I took an edible. Right before you called, I forgot.” You cracked a laugh at the absurdity of it all, unable to contain the humor bubbling inside, but quieted yourself by focusing on eating the food. Your stomach was like an empty pit. You finished eating your singular chicken tender without further accidental innuendo, and became worrying, serious. Your shoulders deflated. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to be around someone high, I know you don’t do substances, it’s probably weird,”

He interrupted with something he hoped might break you out of your slumped state, because he didn’t feel weird. “I actually took some of the edible you gave me back in spring.” As expected, your face lit up… with confusion, and awe.

“You said you never do them.”

“It was an interesting night.” You didn’t need to know that was precisely when he’d decided his persona, developing it while his brain was slow and the world was blurred. You sat in thought for a moment.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re okay with being around someone who is.”

“I’m more concerned if you are comfortable with it.” He’d noticed the TV wasn’t plugged in, but before moseying over to try and find a plug, he wanted your answer.

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. We’re just watching a movie or whatever.” You messed around in the bag some more, procuring a bag of Skittles. He hadn’t had one of those since he was a kid.

Even lacking sobriety, your perception skills remained intact. You held the bag out to him. “Have some.”

He took the bag and opened it, pouring a few into his palm. You dug around some more, the sound of thin rustling plastic filling the silence, and pulled a pouch of Sour Patch Kids. He didn’t know if he’d ever tried those.

You opened the bag and each ate some handfuls of the respective candies in silence, your face puckering a bit at the sour sting. Bruce noticed a small bottle of rosé in the corner by the bread cabinet, unopened. It was far from the best idea on a night like this, both inebriated, a day after a man had threatened to have you killed, but he gestured to it regardless. “Mind if I have some?”

“Don’t just have some because I’m high, dude.” You popped another candy in your mouth. Bruce shrugged and walked toward it. You shook your head, but with his back turned he couldn’t tell, forcing you to voice your concerns. “Seriously.” Your tone fell from its casual cadence to a darker tone, firmer. “You said you never do it,”

“I’ve had alcohol before, I’ll manage.” As he approached the bottle, he hadn’t quite known what had possessed him, but as his ears attuned to the rustle of the plastic and his eyes acclimated to the physical space, he realized he felt more free. If he drank at home, he’d either have to be alone in his room or in the kitchen with Alfred. He could never at a social event, because he didn’t attend them to be social, he attended them to analyze. Letting anything lower his inhibitions around the likes of Convoy and Gavenstein wasn’t an option. However, now it felt fun. He grabbed the neck of the bottle, and you spoke with a start.

“Wait, your meds. Can you drink on them? Will it make your symptoms worse?”

Bruce recalled a ‘use caution when consuming alcohol’ warning on the outside of the bottle. It didn’t say no… “Should be fine, won’t have too much.”

“Bruce.”

He glanced over his shoulder at you, your face knit with worry; it ruffled him, but he blocked his thoughts before they became too rigid. This isn’t pity, this is concern. Concern was borne of care. You cared. Instead of turning away, he’d care back. He hummed on ideas for a shake. “Would it make you feel better if I called Crane?”

You nodded, bewildered that his tone bore no sarcasm or annoyance. He took out his phone, and you counted the subtle rings barely heard on the other end. Dr. Crane picked up after two. You couldn’t hear his voice, too muffled, but you could hear Bruce’s.

“It’s Bruce, yeah. I had a question about my medication.”

You watched as he pressed the phone to his ear, how he slowly meandered around the kitchen, looking at his shoes as he spoke. Warmth flooded you seeing him seem perfectly fine. This was the first time neither of you had been in crisis since. All you were going to do was watch a movie. No trying to stop him from hurting himself, no worrying about where he was, or what he was doing, none of him saving you.

Bruce hung up, thwarting your daydream. “Should be fine. Are you fine with it?”

You met his steady, bright blue eyes and felt a jolt in your chest, like falling down the stairs in a dream. You looked down at the bag from Rai’s, the red THANK YOU in copied prose crinkling about. “Yeah.” You shoved the feeling away, cracking a joke instead. “If you’re fine with not having million-dollar wine.”

He chuckled, the same way he had when he held you. Mostly internal, through his nose, his chest moving more than anything else. You studied him unwrapping the lid, reaching into his pocket for his keys that, of course, had a pocket knife attached. Watching him uncork it put you in a trance; the subtle ripple of his back with the movement, the pop of the cork coming undone beneath his fingers.

You’d been curiously silent behind him; when he finished opening the bottle he turned around, meeting your half-lidded eyes. Your head was in your hands, framing a sleepy grin. His stomach lurched, fluffs of anxiety toiling within it. The last time he’d felt this way was when Selina had unexpectedly kissed him. Confusing to have it appear now, in such a different context.

He channeled his focus instead on finding a glass. You didn’t have any flutes, but he withheld a joke about it, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or come across pompous. He poured a hefty glass, his wrist tipping further the more he felt your eyes on him.

The high created a delayed reaction, and you realized too late that he’d watched you gawking. Gawking? Was that what you were doing? You grabbed another tender and your juice before turning around to scoot the table closer to the outlet, desperate to shake off whatever stupor you’d been unconsciously put under.

Bruce would’ve jumped in to help, but he thought the distance would be good right now. He didn’t like the way his attention pulled toward you, or the way his hands shivered around the glass. Thankfully, his voice was unaffected. “Anything you had in mind to watch?”

You finally plugged the cord into the wall, and unceremoniously plopped onto the far side of the couch, leaving the whole right side open. “You can pick.” A wash of relief settled over you at having been the first to sit, not wanting to be the one to gauge how close to get if he’d sat first. Bruce wandered over with his very full glass of wine, and sat about a foot away. It still felt too congested.

“I got nothing.” He adjusted into the cushions, taking his first sip of wine. His left side was lit like a live wire.

You turned on the TV and flipped through some channels while he sipped. You had to force your eyes to remain strictly contained to the screen, a task that was monumentally difficult through the peak of your edible. “There’s this one show everyone’s talking about online. We could try watching the first episode, it’s like an hour.”

Bruce nodded, resting his hand with the glass on his right thigh. “Sure.”

You clicked it, thanking the ultra-fast wifi in the building for an immediate loading. You might have died if you had to stare too long at a black screen, the uncomfortable portrait of you sitting together reflecting back.

You both sat like that for the duration of the episode; in silence, with the occasional sip from Bruce. The first half was one of the more awkward things you’d experienced; you were acutely aware of how high you were, and how alone you were with him. You’d nearly taken double the dose earlier, and you probably would’ve freaked the fuck out if you had.

About halfway through the episode, you began to get sucked into the show—in a bad way. The acting was terrible, absolutely piss-poor; this resulted in a few sideways glances to Bruce which he reciprocated, each time his cheeks becoming a little more flushed from the alcohol. As the episode ended, you became one with the couch, the high beginning to taper, and your nerves the same. Bruce was about three-quarters done with his drink, probably the equivalent of one and a half shots if he downed the last bit.

As the first episode’s credits ran, you sat in a dumbfounded hypnosis. This was what everyone had been raving about? Huh? Your high’s slow descent left you less inhibited. “…That was so fucking bad.”

Buce nearly choked on his wine, evidently having taken a sip just as you spoke. You turned toward him. “You don’t agree?!”

He shook his head, licking his lips to catch the drops of wine that’d escaped in his almost-coughing recovery. His voice was more animated than you’d heard it before. “I was hoping you wouldn’t click ‘next episode’.”

A second of silence and you both laughed, his cheeks moving from a light rose to sunburn in tandem. He gave the impression of a lightweight; for once not drinking with Mar, you weren’t the least liquor-experienced. His laugh was cute, more full than you’d anticipated, but you could barely hear it over your own. “I don’t know how people can stand it.”

He stuck his hand out to the TV, his brow furrowed with such pure befuddlement you started laughing again, to which he giggled through his next sentence. “The officer was so obvious. Anyone with half a brain would’ve figured it out… is that the premise of the show? Whodunnit?”

“I thought it was the unassuming friend, I thought that was obvious.”

Bruce’s hand slapped to his thigh, his head cocking toward yours with a gentle eyeroll. “You’re joking.”

“Let’s go to the last episode! I’ll be right.” You grabbed the remote and clicked through the fifteen episodes between, each click evoking a scoff from him.

“The friend would be so cliche.”

So disdainful for someone wrong. “And the suspicious officer wouldn’t be? It’s so on the nose.” You clicked PLAY, now taking a while to load up.

“Which would make someone overlook it, like you’re doing now.”

“Alright detective.”

The episode opened to a black screen fading in, showing someone’s hands, lingering there, the metal handcuffs clinking. You and Bruce sat forward in your seats as it panned up to reveal the friend in custody.

“I TOLD YOU!” You paused the show and tossed the remote aside, gloating.

Bruce smirked, taking another sip of wine. “What if it’s a fake out?”

You’d never pulled out your phone so fast, and shoved it in his face when it confirmed your suspicions. “Hmm!”

“Alright, alright.”

“Hand over the baton, bucko.”

He side-eyed you, his mouth curling into an amused smirk. “‘Bucko’?”

“Can’t believe I outsmarted the ‘world’s greatest detective’.” As soon as the words passed your lips, the reality set in of who you were sitting next to, and anxiety nipped at your skin again. It was easy for you to dismiss his power when you were angry at him, or begrudging about it; when he had all your systems activated, wanting to run, scream, fight. Not when your guard was down, and you were under a green haze. Not when he was sitting comfortably on your couch.

“Suit might be a little short for you.”

His attempt at humor shocked your nerves again, dulling them. “Didn’t know you were capable of making a joke.”

He grinned, cocking an eyebrow as he sipped the rest of the wine. You’d never imagined him this relaxed. His shoulders down not from defeat, but relaxation; his eyes half-lidded not from desperation, or succumbing to whatever darkness lay within him, but wine’s subtle embrace. Even his legs were more splayed out, casting their net wider, his normally chiseled jawline dulled as his head sank into the back cushion.

You liked him like this, and felt braver. You sat back against the couch to match, tilting your head toward him, his already tilted toward you. “So what else does Bruce Wayne do?”

He looked confused.

“Public you. Do you just go to City Hall meetings, occasionally a shopping spree that totally isn’t a photo-op?”

He chuckled under his breath, his words coming out a little slower. Whoa, you really liked making him laugh. You wet your lips, subconsciously shifting nearer. “About to go to campaign events.” He met your eyes again, an act that was rapidly becoming a slippery slope. Every time he did it you felt more and more comfortable there. “What about you?”

“Campaign things? Yeah, I don’t have much else to do. I’ll try to be at every event.”

“You’re genuinely interested in Gotham politics?”

“Would I rather be home? Maybe, but it’s fascinating. The fact it got sprung on so quickly…”

“Been meaning to pay Reál a visit.” He stayed looking at you the entire time, and you drank up every second of it.

“I was thinking that too.” You mimicked his earlier laugh without conscious awareness. “If only we could pair up. Alas…”

He shrugged, the ripples in his shirt moving with his shoulders. “We could.”

You laughed again; whether it was the weed or his more friendly company, you’d figure later. “No way.”

“You could chaperone my visits. Be my transcriber.” He grinned at you, not giving away how much of it was a joke.

You rolled your eyes at him, playfully. “That’d be making me your personal assistant, Bruce.”

He liked when you said his name. “Guess you’re right, Y/N.”

A few seconds of silence rattled around your chest like a ping-pong ball. “If that happened, shit. Whatever credibility I have left would tank.” You looked at the screen, still paused on the friend’s form in the striped outfit.

“Don’t want that.”

You stared at each other, then busted laughing again. It felt different than how Dr. Vry had sneered at you in the meeting, mocking the notion of you having a name to protect; this was harmless, and if you hadn’t already picked up on it, you could tell by his smiling glances between laughs. Mmm, this wasn’t…

Wanting to ask him this since the candidates were first announced but never having the opportunity, you shot your shot after the din lowered. You grasped for anything platonic to settle the rhapsody that threatened to overwhelm you. “Which candidate are you liking?”

Bruce shot you another look, making your stomach flip. He was teasing. “You care about the billionaire’s opinion on city politics?”

“I am rubbing off on you!” You beamed.

He rolled his eyes in that same way, the grin sneaking into your eyes filling his chest like a balloon. He could hardly breathe around it. “I won’t endorse.”

You squinted. “Why not?”

“People could think whoever I endorse paid me off. Could have the opposite effect.”

You nodded, pondering it for a second. You were more relieved than you’d let on. “That’s better than what I thought your reasoning was. Thought I’d have to fight you.”

“And what did you think it was?”

“Some apolitical bullshit.”

He sighed, the whisper of a smile on his cheeks lifting it nearly into a laugh. “For someone who acts like they know me so well,”

“And when did I claim to?” This was the most pleasant ‘argument’ you’d ever had.

“Maybe it’s more your tone.” You could’ve sworn he winked at you.

This conversation had the aura of a flotation device; barely holding you both afloat. “I don’t know how I feel about a man talking about my tone. Especially one as sunshiney as you.”

“Touché.”

Laughter filled the room again. It was becoming easier and easier now, like a contagion. Bruce lightened his inflection, making it almost sing-songy. “What about you? Who do you like?” You held in a laugh that would’ve projected flecks of spit across the room. You felt ridiculous, and weird, alongside such vast enjoyment. You never, ever thought his company could be so agreeable.

“Only barely looked into them, but March seems about as stellar as a politician can be.” You were surprised you could still think so clearly; usually by this point of the edible, you were crashing into your pillow. His presence tonight was captivating, and you held back a flash of panic having thought that.

You hadn’t been looking at him, holding in a laugh having forced you to stare at his frayed black shoes, but you caught him laughing in your periphery, shaking his head. Your suspicious glare prompted him to elaborate. “You missed when he came to a meeting, it was like you were speaking through his body.”

“Now look who claims to know me so well!”

“That’s right, you hate the idea of taxing the rich and using the funds to help the less fortunate.”

You blushed, biting back a wide grin. “You’re so annoying.”

“Mmhmm.”

You gave him a once over while he checked his phone, mulling over how this simultaneously felt incredibly natural and out of character for him. Was this one of the ‘last good days’ people talked about? What Dr. Crane told you to look out for? An unusually elevated and expansive mood, inevitably leading to a crash, or signaling a resignation to the end? You didn’t want to kill the vibe, but felt that same pull to be the responsible one. “Really, are you okay?”

Bruce attuned to the shift in your body language as if it were his own. His knee-jerk response was to deny and reassure you he was fine. Truly, he wanted to tell you to stop asking him, and stop concerning yourself with his wellbeing. The alcohol had infiltrated, his walls dropping with far less resistance than usual, allowing him to start thinking through the tunnels of emotion without much fight. He felt okay right now, unnervingly so, but when he thought back to going home, about stepping out of the confines of these walls, it all felt heavier.

“It’s okay if you’re not. I’m not fine, either.”

He glanced over at you, your eyes blinking more than usual from the marijuana, slightly unfocused, but trying. He looked at his hands in his lap, fiddling with the tip of his pinky.

“And you don’t have to share because you think you owe it to me.”

Any other day he would’ve bristled at such blatant concern, but right now it cocooned him in comfort. Made his cheeks warmer than they already felt. He recalled your head snapping to the conference door when he’d slipped into his Batman modulation, an action that had him staring at you too long, only half-hearing Gordon on the other end. Had his breath catch before leaving.

“I want to. It’s just new to me. Talking, socializing, parading those rooms.” That physical pain returned to him, and he gestured to you. “Someone knowing besides Alfred. And the mental stuff.”

He expected you to be bored, for your eyes to have glazed over, but your attention was eager. You weren’t even wringing your hands together as you usually were. You spoke gently, but in a fashion nowhere similar to coddling. He wanted to lean closer to you.

“How’s that been?”

His chest puffed with a sharp breath, the rosé swirling in his gut. “No more owls, if that’s what you’re asking. The medication’s been fine, makes me feel a bit jittery, not hungry. That’s about it.”

“It’s gotta be hard to adjust to.”

He nodded, opening his mouth to speak. You spoke first.

“You’re also under the influence, I don’t want you to regret sharing anything.” Now you wrung your hands together.

His eyes searched yours, continuously floored at how often you chose the response least expected. No one else would look out for him like this. None of the people at City Hall, at least. No one in any rooms he’d ever been in. The next words out of his mouth spilled from unadulterated confusion, unable to scour his mind for an obvious answer. “How are you able to do that?”

His brows were knit together tight, all semblance of humor gone. Your voice was softer. “Do what?”

“Look past my reputation.”

You didn’t know how much he’d like the answer, but you said it anyway. “I guess I don’t idolize that stuff. Supreme wealth and influence. I actually hate it.”

“What makes you hate it?” He leaned closer to you, feeling the strongest pull to completely unravel you like a spool of thread.

You noted his swerve from questions about his wellbeing, but didn’t tempt it again. You’d given him an out for a reason. You kept to task, shifting your body toward his without thought. “I don’t like hoarding resources when so many people are without.”

“That’s why you’re watching a movie with him.” You were like a hearth, warm, bright, and he wanted to keep adding kindling.

“Touché.” You grinned, hoping he wouldn’t see the color brought to your ears, but resigned to the reality he undoubtedly did. “I do hate that about you.”

“Would it help if I hated it too?”

“But you’re still not doing anything about it.”

Even when you were interrogating him, listing off his inadequacies, it didn’t dampen the hospitality he felt toward you. He didn’t even care it felt disorienting to admit he liked it. Alcohol was a dangerous drug, his eyes in a constant deliberation between focusing on yours or your lips. “What do you think I should do?”

“You really want to hear it?”

He nodded. He could listen to you talk all night.

You released a sigh from the bottom of your lungs. You floored it without thought for how it might come out with your jumbled, free-flowing mind right now. “I think people should be housed. Given food, access to resources. Like actual access, not handing them a paper or telling them a phone line when half of them don’t have phones. There are more empty apartments in the city than people houseless.”

Damn. “Really?” You were so passionate about this… it was enchanting.

“Yes.”

“So, subsidizing those units?” He’d hand you his card right now. He’d do just about anything you asked right now, his focus growing increasingly singular, the room crowding.

You nodded. “Making it free until people get on their feet. Work with the next mayor to draw up a new budget.”

Underneath the bloom of the alcohol, he felt himself beginning to simmer. He sat back a little. “And what if they just want to loiter?”

“What if they deserve to?”

Bruce didn’t have a response, thrown yet another curveball by you.

“Wouldn’t you want to relax and recover if you spent the last few years out on the streets, and you finally had a shower and a warm bed that’s all yours? A kitchen with food? We could partner with local charities and businesses to provide food and stubs.”

We. His mind zoomed on it like a magnifying glass. He shifted his weight, feeling unsettled. This was verging on a massive argument, tempting a trigger on his fight or flight, your conversation yanking him in opposing directions. “What about people with criminal convictions?”

“Your moral compass needs some nuance.”

Bruce bristled, the thought of criminals being handed a check to live comfortably off the government feeling as wrong as kicking a puppy. What did criminals do to deserve comfort, safety? They’d taken his parents from…

Something flashed across Bruce’s face for only a millisecond, his shoulders slumping. His brows knit together, barely, like a half-formed thought. He scanned the ground in front of him before subtly clearing his throat.

They hadn’t taken his parents from him. One person had. One man pulling the trigger. Christ.. He blinked a few times, vowing to dig into it more later. Something about the greater revelation hidden inside made that thought feel like the inaugural brick.

Thankfully, all he had to do to abandon the thought was focus back on you. The alcohol rendered his ruminations less sticky, but you stickier. He was starting to recognize the contours of your face. His initial balk melted into trust. “Nuance. I’m listening.”

His gaze falling on you was beginning to feel like a third place. Maybe a first. “You’re actually listening to me?”

Your pleasant surprise did heavy-lifting on the mood. He razzed. “Guess it’s the alcohol.”

You paused before sinking into his capturing charm, fretting over how out of character this was. Mood lability was one of the terms Dr. Crane had taught you, but before you could get too wrapped up in your thoughts, Bruce pulled you out of the early waves like a trained lifeguard. He positioned his body toward you, leaning even closer, tilting his head to better meet your wandering eyes. The second he tethered you there, he let down the anchor. “I’m safe.” He nodded slowly, just enough for you to register it.

Soft ebbs of his wine-tinged breath caressed your nose. You looked away, but his lullaby ‘hey’ drew your eyes back. He nodded firmer now. “I promise.”

You bit your lip, tears studding the rim of your eyes.

“I’ll keep promising until you believe me.”

Instead of the whimper that wanted to escape, a single tear fell, and his eyes followed it until it dripped off your chin.

“I don’t take your trust lightly.”

He’s so sweet like this. Another tear, overwhelming sensations swinging on monkey bars in your chest cavity. You brushed it off with the back of your palm, shaking out your hands as much as you could in the small space between you. His focused attention felt permeating, like standing too close to the sun. You let out an embarrassed laugh, struggling to play off your emotionality. “I know every time you bring it up I start crying, and I don’t know why, but. I can handle it. I want to be a resource.”

He mused on that a moment, the only evidence of it being the subtle shifts of his eyes focusing on yours. “If I ever feel like that, I’ll call you.” He measured your reaction with a fine-toothed comb, not wanting to ask too much, needing to straddle the line between comforting you and burdening. You nodded and withdrew your phone from your pocket, leaving him swimming in repose.

You handed him your phone on the New Contact page, and you watched as he input his number. Your breathing was deep and shallow altogether, confused, like the tendrils of flame that scorned your stomach lining as your eyes outlined the shadows of his hair across his forehead, like the electricity that zapped your nervous system when he spoke to you like that, the undulating depth of his blue eyes…

You busied yourself flipping through more streaming channels. Another popular show made you click, this time one Mar had personally recommended. He handed the phone back, glancing at the TV. He didn’t want to watch anything right now, he wanted to keep talking to you. But he didn’t really want you to keep feeling upset, either. He nodded for you to press PLAY.

It started how any flashy drama does, with a wild cold open. Your attention followed the commotion, flashing to a scene in a silent office. Pretty soon, the screen fuzzed out to unintelligible static. Tears streamed down your cheeks from the emotion of the scene, and Bruce leaned closer. His voice was hot in your ear, peppering goosebumps across your skin. “Let me.”

He pressed his lips to your cheeks, kissing away your tears. The clip of your heart thundering in your chest had you gasping at the contact, pushing yourself up to your knees to bring your mouth to his. His lips were soft and enveloping, turning your gasps into panting whines. His cologne squeezed your throat, leaving you breathless.

“Y/N…” he moaned your name into your mouth, a sound that went straight between your thighs. Your phone thudded against the ground, freeing up your hands to thread through his hair. The sounds he was making… Your arms collided, both having the same idea at the same time to pull the other’s shirt off.

Just as his shirt pulled over his head, you opened your eyes, jolting up. You felt your phone slide from your thigh to the couch cushion, still open to New Contact: Bruce. He rustled beside you, blinking slowly back into the room. You both looked entirely unmussed, a foot away. Everything still intact. You both had dozed off, apparently.

It was a fucking dream.

Looking at the screen showed you’d both been out for around half an hour, the show playing on. He ran a hand through his hair, stretching his neck from side to side while he yawned. You averted your eyes in case he could beam into your thoughts. “Um, I need to pee.” You gulped and rose unsteadily to your feet, all but racing to your bedroom.

You rested your forehead against the door once it shut, a gasp of breath leaving you. You twitched hard at the ghost of his lips on your neck, shaking your head while you ran to the bathroom, running ice water in the sink. You cooled your hot hands and placed them on the back of your neck and cheeks, letting your eyes shut.

Dreams are strange. Fickle and unintelligible. The coolness was bringing you back down, settling your heart rate before you inevitably passed out. You spent another few minutes there, avoiding your hair as much as possible as you tethered yourself with each press of your fingers to your face. You shook your hands out, jumping in place. Whew. The images and sensations were fading safely into obscurity, the temperature defogging the haze of your high.

Padding back to your bedroom showed the time to be around ten. The nap had only made you more tired. When you walked back out you focused on your kitchen island, ignoring the giant, screaming, flashing lights coming from the couch. You yawned, and he got up in response. “We fell asleep quick. Don’t know what that says about the show.” He said it so casually, but your mind was positively tumbling all over itself. You nodded, your mouth drying.

You weren’t aware that he was internally stewing over how seamlessly he’d followed your lead once you’d passed out, and all of the embarrassment that was following now that he was awake. He didn’t know that you were holding in a scream.

You brightened so he wouldn’t pry, watching him stretch himself more alert. “I know, I guess the week caught up with me!” Forced to look at him, you clamped your teeth against your tongue in preparation. It was needed.

“I’ll walk. Text you when I make it back?” He wanted to get ahead of your anxieties, knowing if the roles were reversed he’d demand it of you. He simpered. How egalitarian.

“Oh uh, yeah! I’ll text you when I get to bed.” Suggestive. “So you can have my number.” The recovery was far from smooth, but you were struggling to capture an impossible feat of looking at him but not perceiving him. He gave a small thumbs-up as he pulled the hoodie over his head and buttoned his jacket. Once his back was turned toward the door it was easier, but not by much.

He opened the door, peeking over his shoulder. “That was fun.”

“It was nice to have company. Even if it was yours.” In anguish, you clawed back to jests in a futile attempt at normalcy.

He laughed under his breath once more. “Even if it was yours.” His barely-there grin was the last thing you saw before the night crashed to an end.

Jesus fucking Christ.

" i dont do private

rooms ,let's do it

right here right now "

❝ she's a maneater, make you work hard

make you spend hard, make you want all of her love ❞

"  she running my

POCKETS dry  "

❝ she's a maneater, make you buy cars

make you cut cards, make you fall real hard in love ❞

" she so hard

to get  "

❝ make you cut cards, wish you never ever met her at all ❞

in which a femme fatale stripper that earns the nickname maneater from running every man she encountered pockets dry but she stopped playing with men for a while and started playing with 3 individual women

chapter one

@inumakiarchive masterlist

disclaimer: all of these books will have some sort of smut involved in them

LITTLE LAMB

teaser , chapter one , chapter two

THE WIFE

GOJO SATORU

chapter one , chapter two , chapter three

book status - not completed

THE RULES

GETO SUGURU

chapter one, chapter two

book status - not completed

COOKIES AND CREME

RANPO EDOGAWA

chapter one , chapter two

book status - not completed

ADAM AND EVE

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

chapter one , chapter two

book status - not completed

NEKO

DAZAI OSAMU

chapter one , chapter two

book status - not completed

MANEATER

YELENA , HANJI , PIECK

teaser , chapter one , chapter two

book status - not completed

disclaimer : some books on here are not published yet, and I do not own the gifs used in any of my stories, credits to the people who made them on pinterest <3

─────────SOMEWHERE IN YOKOHAMA

I was curled up in my bed watching some show where a girl finally found her soulmate but of course the girl DIED at the end of the show .

I tapped the bed sheets furiously in search for the remote until she found it .

' this show is going to make me go crazy '

I raised my hand with the remote in it to turn off my tv and turned it off right on the scene where her lover was crying while holding her dead body .

" { y/n } , can you buy a pint of ice cream for dear elise " my father , mori ōugai , the principal of NEKO academy .

I didn't even question him and just went to fetch my slippers while I'm still in my pajama shorts and shirt .

" I'll be off ! " I said running past my dad in my room then running down stairs to the jacket rack to get my black zip up jacket and walking out the door immediately feeling the cold breeze hit me .

' I'll just walk in the store buy the ice cream then walk out '

I stopped thinking and opened the walk in gate next to the big mansion gate I started my journey walking to the corner store down the hill from the street I live on .

walking down the hill you could hear nothing but the sounds of crickets and the crisp air going by while they tree branches swayed left and right with which ever direction the wind went .

once I reached the corner store I saw a cat

a stray cat

it was standing at the side of the store in the total darkness .

I quickly checked my pockets if I had pocketed my phone to use my flashlight , after a good 10 seconds I found my phone which was in the pocket of the jacket and quickly took it out to use it as a flashlight .

once the flashlight was on I looked at the cat which looked like it was almost dead laying on the floor with its eyes opened so I took cautious steps near but also quick ones because the poor guy/girl looked like it was going to die any minute .

by how it's abdomen is nonexistent and all you can see is pure bones he/she could've died any second now by the harsh conditions she/he's in .

her/his fur was gray with some circles of black fur and I would guess he/she was a egyptian mau cat breed just by the unique design of his/her fur .

my slowly cautious yet fast steps finally made it to the poor cat and I took off my jacket and carefully picked it up and wrapped it in my black zip up jacket .

' I have to be quick or else he/she might die on me '

I quickly speed ran to inside the store and went to the back section of the store to find the strawberry flavored ice cream with strawberry fill in the middle that elise favored .

I walked back to the front of the store to pay for elise ice cream which cost 7$ just for a pint of this rich ass ice cream .

I payed for the ice cream in cash and the cashier gave me the bag with the ice cream and I quickly got bit not before thanking them for there service .

I stopped at the gas station door when I looked down and saw that both my hands were occupied , my right arm was cradling the slow breathing cat while my my left hand was holding the bag of ice cream .

' I guess I'll just use my foot '

I took a deep breath before balancing myself and lifting my foot to open the door with it but someone else opened it for me

chuuya nakahara

" hey { y/n } I was wondering if- " he got cut off by my sudden rush past him and stumbled back a bit in shock .

" sorry chuuya I have to help this poor cat Ill text you later...... " I said while running back till I got to the street of my house with the cat still in my arms weakly gripping my shirt with his sharp nails .

once I reached the walk-in gate to the mansion I quickly opened the small gate then locked it back to run straight to the door of my house .

I banged on the door for a good 3 minutes till someone finally opened the door .

" you could've opened it much sooner- " I looked up from the cat to the person who opens the door which was mori in a dress-

" I- um "

" I don't care just take the cat " i grumbled passing the near dead cat to him that was wrapped in my jacket .

" ok it'll take about 1 and a half to figure out what's wrong with him and fix and problems in his body then we'll keep him OH maybe his a neko ? maybe even a boy neko ? wait I don't want no boys near my babies ! " he muttered under his breath while walking to his mini animal clinic in his work office to check up the cat .

time skip -

hours passed and I was currently waiting in my room watching tv as the time passed by .

KNOCK - KNOCK

" it's OPEN " i said kinda aggressively .

mori opened the door with a stoic expression on his face .

" the cat is a neko and it's a boy near your age group  " he informed me .

" OH can I see him !??? " I asked a bit over excitedly .

" yea his downstairs but won't open up to anyone , maybe he'll open up to you ? "

" I don't know I guess we'll find out today...... " i trailed off seeing this neko in his full glory .

he had on a tight white tank top with some gray sweatpants on and his hair messed up all over but he still made it look good .

I quickly walked up to him to distract him from elise who was currently trying to shove some strawberry cake down his throat .

" hi ! you got a name ? "  I asked him with a soft smile on my face making him blush and look down at his lap .

" da.....i o.....m...a " he whispered making me only catch certain letters .

" I can't her you~ " i cooed near the side of his face

" I-it's dazai osamu , MAAM ! " he shouted towards the end then immediately getting flustered afterwards .

" good boy "

chapter two

─────────────PORT MAFIA HQ

I sighed deeply before opening the door to mori 's office to complain to him about the troublesome mission he gave me .

" mori ! I finished that troublesome mission you gave me " I called out making sure that he can hear me clearly and everyone else in the room .

he took his eyesight from the view in front of him to me who was just standing there nonchalantly and just looking at elise draw because in my opinion it was aesthetically satisfying .

" ah yes the mission I sent for you to do and from what I heard you didnt left a finger my dear [ y/n ] "mori said still sitting in his throne and turned his gaze back on the lovely view of yokahoma .

" why would I ? you gave me a mission a newcomer would easily accomplish with only slight trouble " i said with a scowl on my face .

" it was just a small problem I needed out the way " mori said gaze still not leaving the glass window .

" if it was just a small problem then why you didn't put a newcomer on that job or one of those weak guards you have " I told him while only giving a side glance to the guard who had a scowl on his face that was standing next to the front door guarding it .

"  because I needed you to be out so I can give the real ' big ' mission or so you call it to dazai " he tried to explain to me .

I just gave him a sarcastic smile before specking back .

" you fucker " i said walking up closer to mori making the guards tense and automatically raise up there guns .

mori raised his hand to do and did a lowering motion with them to motion the guards to lower the weapons , which the hesitated to do but nonetheless did the action .

" now , now [ y/n ] let's not get out of proportion , I knew you was going to make a big fuss out of it and plus your not really good at working with other members , not even your own subordinates " mori said with a scowl like expression on his face .

" those ' subordinates ' weigh me down and you know that mori " i exasperated while putting my hand on my hip and move the weight of my body on my left leg .

" whatever I'm leaving to the coffee shop in town " i said after a scoff making the guards become less tense but still tense .

" elise , you want anything ? " I asked the girl that was still sitting quietly while drawing and munching on a rainbow lollipop that was unusually big for its normal size .

" can you buy me a strawberry crepe cake , [ y/n ] chan ? " elise asked using a sweet tone and giving me slight puppy dog eyes making me immediately say yes to her request like a butler would to it's master .

" wait , [ surname ] can you buy me a hot americano latte for me ? " mori asked with a sly grin on his face as if I was going to actually buy him the latte .

" I don't think you have a hot americano latte kind of money , so I'll be on my way ! " I said feeling all giddy and speed run out the room before he can tell me otherwise .

' now time to walk down streets filled with people just for some food '

timeskip

while my time walking I managed to buy the stuff I needed at the coffee shop and when I walked out the coffee shop I accidentally bumped into someone with a black trench coat much similar to the ones my subordinates wear .

another person was with the person I bumped into and he had this orange hair and looked to be the same age as me .

" im so sorry for bumping into you " i said while slowly looking up to the person I'm apologizing to .

my eyes widened looking at the other top executive right in front of me doing some weird wiggly movement with his body and blush dusting his cheeks .

" [ Y/N ] CHAN , I miss you so MUCH , where were you , are you okay , did you sleep , did you eat- " dazai keep pestering me until the orange haired man spoke up .

I felt a hint of relief when dazai pestering stopped and wanted to thank the orange haired man and hopefully get his name .

" hey um mister ....? "

" it's chuuya , chuuya nakahara " he told me noticing me having trouble with what to call him .

" I'm sorry for bringing you in this and sorry for you keeping up with...........that thing " i said with a scowl when I mentioned dazai but then a bright smile when I started talking back to chuuya .

" anyways where are y'all going ? " I asked both of them .

" we're going to solve this case where apparently the old boss has been spotted there a few times and mori wants us to see if it's the real thing and if it is we are informed to excite him the second we see him " he told me and his use to be joyful eyes turning dark very quickly .

" I'm coming too ! " I shouted gripping the bag that had the strawberry crepe for elise and my iced latte in my hand .

" I already have things handled- " dazai said and was going to finish his sentence until he got cut off by chuuya .

" shut the hell up the only thing you have handled is trying to kill yourself " he shouted near dazai ear making dazai lean away and rub his ear soothingly .

I chuckled watching all this play out right in front of me .

my chuckle reached the ears of chuuya making him turn around and stare at me .

" let's go [ y/n ] "

BUT THIS WAS ONLY THE START TO ADAM AND EVE

next

' blah blah blah ' = thoughts

" raise your arms up and face this way, slowly turn around "

me , dazai and the chuuya standing on the left side of me stood standing in front of the armed man who told us the commands of " raise your arms up and face this way, slowly turn around " I still stood tall staring at the man not even batting a eyelash at him until both me, chuuya and dazai turned around to a voice behind us .

" I didn't think THE port mafia would send in a bunch of kids, is the staff really that low there " a deep voice said from behind us making me look over my shoulder to see another armed man with protective glasses on and army like attire on .

" randou ? "chuuya on the left of me questioned all of a sudden .

" that would be the name of the survivor we came here to interview- " i said before being rudely cut off by dazai trying to explain the rest himself .

" he's the one who restrained you, with that special of his " dazai ' finished for me ' with a slight smirk on his face .

" oh, that guy, Hey you old fart, what do you say we save us both some time, First you shoot- " he started walking to the armed guard but couldn't walk any further when my hand reached out in front of him halting .

" come on now, just give us the information so no one gets hurt " I asked the guarded man with my hands up all black trench coat still resting nicely on my shoulders .

the guard still didn't budge making me sigh in disappointment and decide that since my ' nice smooth talk ' attempt didn't work I'll just make him mad .

" the infamous gerhardt security services also know as the GSS. you use to be a foreign-funded private-security firm but then you had your subsides cut off,how pitiful if I might say, and now your a full blown very illegal operation, if I am correct, right ? " I said taunting the armed man who was now pointing a gun to my forehead .

" that's right, and don't think I'll go easy on you, just cause your kids " he said looking at me then behind me at the expressionless dazai and the slightly widen eyes chuuya .

" go ahead, SHOOT " i taunted him even more .

the mark on my chest underneath my collar bone glowed a light neon blue .

the man I was taunting brought his hand gun closer to my forehead and the other bigger gun closer to chuuya who was now directly behind the guard with dazai standing right next to him .

" show us what you got, grandpa " chuuya said pressing his head to the gun making the large gun glow a light shade of red and the man body glow the same color as well .

and then the next second the man was grunting and falling down the ground with MUCH force like he was being pushed down or something and along with his guns that hit the floor making the titles come out of place from the brutal force .

' I guess that's his ability, the control of gravity ' I thought in my head disabling my ability since it looked like chuuya had it all covered .

the man was now fully on the floor on his hands and knees with his eyebrows furrowed teeth clenched trying to lower the pain he was feeling and some drops of sweat on his forehead I moved away slowly now standing next to dazai with no expression on my face .

chuuya foot was pressed against the man head with his ability still activated while I just stood next to dazai watching the whole scene go around .

" y-you're chuuya nakahara of the sheep gang " the man that was on the ground said through clenched teeth .

' the sheep gang ? '

" so it's true that you fell into the hands of the port mafia " the man continued.

chuuya growled in distaste and pushed the man head further into the ground hard enough to make the man head bleed and throb of discomfort .

" can we just kill him already " i whispered to dazai getting bored of all the talking .

" no. be patient " he face still expressionless and tone monotonous .

' fucking bastard '

" are we done here, I'm getting hungry right now " i said breaking off the silence just for them to look straight looking at the many men who surround us at a good feet armed with heavy guns and wearing the same attire the man on the floor in front of me right now was wearing .

I looked infront of me at the chuuya who had a large smirk on his face looking around at all of the armed men

" CAPTAIN ! " one of the armed men shouted with worry and shock lace in their tone .

" care to accompany your 'captain' on the floor ? " chuuya taunted them .

" SHOOT THEM thats that chuuya shrimp and that demon freak [ y/n ] [ l/n ] "

they all shooter aiming towards me chuuya and dazai .

chuuya ' activated ' only a part of mines while dazai just stood behind me .

some bullets flew past me while other bent of disappeared by some force that was surrounding me .

I didn't get a scratch on my body or dent in my clothing nor hole, I looked perfectly NORMAL and UNSCATHED .

it was just only a part of how my ability worked .

MY ABILITY

name of ability - the blood of a demon

HOW IT WORKS

there are more than one way to use this ability [ the other ways her ability works would be introduced further in the story ]

Niamh - niamh is a ability she can activate in her head simple saying " the blood of a demon "  this ability allows [ y/n ] to have a shield around her but in reality it's just a bunch of invisible demons surrounding her perfectly .

I looked over my shoulder seeing dazai expression less face with a small cut on his upper cheekbone and chuuya glowing a light shade red and all the bullets that were shot towards him were FLOATING in air .

" what did you just call her ? "

previous | next

THE NEKO

" good boy "

I was awoken from my slumber by some loud purring on my lap .

I got up slowly and propped my self on my elbows with my eyes still closed afraid to open my and have them catch a glimpse of the sunlight coming from my window .

when I was sure I was fully up I began to slowly open my eyes that were very foggy and blurry so the only thing I could've picked up was a glimpse of dark chestnut brown hair or fur ?

I rubbed both my eyes slowly thinking it was just ' cookie ' one of our pet cats that was attached to me in particular .

finally my eyes were clear and I could now see the neko that I found yesterday sleeping on my lap .

his mouth was slightly opened and some drool was coming out of his mouth to the side of his mouth but the drool quickly dried up from the ac and from his breathing .

my eyes were widened when I remembered he fell asleep in the guest room which was in the north wing of the house while my room was all the way on the west wing of the house .

' how and why did he walk all the way here ? '

' how did he know what room I was in ? '

' why- '

all my thoughts and questions got cut off by the opening of my bedroom door .

" get up and get ready- " my father said walking into my room holding up my uniform in his hand that consisted of a navy blue plaid skirt a dress shirt, my school jacket and finally the school tie .

the skirt for the school wasn't too short or too high which I thanked the gods for .

I snapped my focus back on the boy that was sleeping on my lap now awake and jumping to cuddle up to my side from the loud sound of my father voice .

" [ y/n ] already ? " mori asked me with a disappointment sigh at the end of his question .

mori now walking fully in my room to put my uniform on my bed below my feet .

" I didn't even do anything " i said now frowning at his assumption .

it was true that I was popular and had many people at my feet just to get a kiss from me but I never fulfilled their desires and that's was because of him .

i still remember how he manipulated me .

tricked-

' I need to stop thinking about HIM '

I shook my head near violently catching the attention of the boy that was cuddled up to my side .

I turned my head around a little and looked down at him seeing his once dull emotionless eyes started to pool with curiosity .

" hurry up and get ready for school, your near late, also osamu uniform is in your clothes "

" ho- "

" I placed it there last night, I knew something like this would happen sooner or later " mori said interrupting me now walking out my door calling for elise .

I carefully got out of the covers on my bed and got out of my bed leaving the boy to now sit up on the bed, back against the headboard and head now lifted up .

walking over to the door of my closet my hand rested on the doorknob, twisting the knob and opening the door to the large walk in closet .

with the door open you can perfectly see the boy uniform set on the black velvet like barrel swivel chair that was placed in the corner of the room .

I walked closer to the chair and picked up the uniform turning around now facing towards the large king size bed that holds dazai .

his dark chestnut eyes look up slowly examining the clothes that I had in my hand .

I see his face twist in confusion before he asked the question to seal his curiosity .

" where am I going ? " he asked now looking down with a small frown on his lips .

' did he get attached to me already ? ' i asked in my head with a little frown on my lips .

" your going to school, and WITH ME "

I said making his cat ears visibly perk up at the statement .

" why ? " dazai asked titling his head in the most adorable way without even trying .

I smiled at his clueless expression before telling him .

" because, you can't stay in this big mansion by yourself, dazai— so your going to school with me, you won't be bored stuck in the house- you'll be with me and my ' friends ' you can even make some yourself .

" what's school ? and what's friends ? "

dazai asked me once more making me frown at both the questions .

" school is a educational environment where you can learn new things about this world and universe and along the way you can make some very good friends or some foes, but that won't happen since you'll be by my side everyday ! " i said slightly bouncing on the heels of my feet when I said the last sentence

" how and why am I'm going to be by your side everyday ? " dazai asked head still tilted and eyebrow furrowed .

" because, I REQUESTED for a SPECIAL someone for you to have ALL classes WITH me, isn't that NICE ? "

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[ Y/N ] POV

it was bright and partly cloudy out today it was the perfect day to go out before geto came back from work at the hellish place he called himself a CEO of .

walking out of the large mansion that was very modern I heard I loud beep sound coming from the car that was pulled up in the front of the modern like house.

I can clearly see gojo sticking his head out of the drive seat with a wide smile on his face .

I see he was wearing some regular clothes that consisted of grey sweatshorts, a tight fitted white tank top and his infamous retro lower cases ' o ' glasses .

" who you tryna impress ? " he asked me looking me up and down my outfit which was a white dress shirt that had a few unbuttoned button at the top and was tucked in my shirt pleaded skirt, with a playful glint in his eyes making me scoff and walk up closer to the car, the heels of my mary janes clicking on the concrete floor of the driveway before answering his question .

" anyone but you. " i said to him face to face with my head now sticking inside off he window, face near inches away from him.

I unconsciously pressed my breast together unknowingly giving him a free show of the black lingerie that I wore underneath that peeked a little through the white shirt .

BEEP

my head quickly turned around at the sound of the camera that was placed on the side of the front door.

" why y'all got so many cameras around here ? " he questioned me.

I smiled directly at the camera knowing he's watching. It won't hurt to give him a little show right?. before turning back around to answer gojo question I bend down a little closer to the window letting my skirt naturally lift up a little from the wind making half my ass show and my black lace panties geto bought for me a couple weeks back.a perfect view from the camera. I thought before turning back around to answer gojo question.

"no reason" i answered him now walking around the car to get in the passenger seat.

"now can we leave this place, I'm starving" i said patting his thigh now that I'm in the car with the most innocent smile I can muster up on my face.

"y-yeah"

—

at the cafe - 3:42pm

we were in the cafe talking and catching up about how was I doing ? was geto treating me ok ? and if I was just good in general.

while this conversation I noticed gojo took some 'sneaky' glances towards my chest but obviously it wasn't sneaky enough and I quickly took notice of these glances.

"are you going to keep looking at my chest or look me in the eye while holding this conversation ?" I questioned him slicing a piece of my strawberry crepe before looking up slightly to see his halfly shocked expression.

"it was out there.how do you expect me not to look." he said mumbling the last part but I caught it and gave him a scoff and a little shrug of my shoulders.

"anyways weres geto, he hasn't been to work since yall two became a thing? " he said to me like a question.

it was true that geto didn't go to the office since we became something(?) since he didn't have a enough trust in me staying home by myself and still didn't but work was piling up and meetings couldn't be held back any further so he was forced to go back to work and the maids couldn't 'supervise' me because it was their day off.

the days he wasn't at work he would be in the house, in his work space doing god knows what while when he got stressed he would always order me in the office with the littlest set of clothes on.

me already memorizing what his order will be I immediately crawled under his desk, sitting in my knees under the desk with my hands on my lap like the obedient little bitch I was to him.

but not right now

I had already broke several of

THE RULES

next

THE DIRECTOR OF "THE LOVE WE SHARE"

age : 27

THE EXECUTIVE PRODUCER OF "THE LOVE WE SHARE"

age:25

THE MANAGER FOR [ Y/N ] [ L/N ]

age: 25

[ Y/N ] SISTER IN THE MOVIE "THE LOVE WE SHARE"

age:23

SCRIPT WRITER FOR THE MOVIE "THE LOVE WE SHARE"

age: 26

SECOND MAIN CHARACTER IN "THE LOVE WE SHARE" ( the love interest ) in the movie

age: 24

JUST ANOTHER ACTRESS THATS NOT REALLY INVOLVED IN THE BOOK NOR MOVIE

age: 28

- NISHIMIYA MOMO -

the actual little sister of [ y/n ] [ l/n ] ( she will be involved in the book just a little )

age : 19

[ Y/N ] [ L/N ] MAIN CHARACTER OF BOTH THIS BOOK AND THE MOVIE "THE LOVE WE SHARE" , [ y/n ] is now both thriving in acting and modeling

age: 26

THE HUSBAND OF [ Y/N ] [ L/N ]

age: 27

—

❝ don't you have a husband miss [ Y/N ] ? ❞

in which a thriving actress named [ y/n ] [ l/n ] earns the role in a big upcoming romance movie but also catches the eye of some females on set.

❝ he's not here isn't he? ❞

will [ y/n ] continue this scandalous affair or continue living her life with a cheating husband who hasn't had sex with her in god knows when.

❝ pick a choice, love ❞

-

chapter one

@ALLJUJUTSUKAISENFEMALES

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chapter [ 001 ]

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" shouldn't you moan a little bit louder for me hm ? "

she was thrusting both her index and middle finger in my wet cunt while they were having the most friendly conversation with my husband infront me while yuki was thrusting her fingers in my cunt doing a come-hither motion with her fingers curling hitting all the right spots, when I felt her fingers lightly caress my g-spot making me squirm on my chair that was under the table, gojo didn't notice a thing

but before this event happened

I was in my amazingly large mansion .that gojo insisted on buying himself.

I was walking around the house trying to find my car keys but couldn't find it. I remember coming home late last night from finishing up a modeling gig and once I parked my car in the driveway and came inside of the house I immediately dropped on the couch and threw my keys somewhere on the couch but when I went back looking for it on the couch it wasn't there.

" gojo, have you seen my car keys ? " i slightly shouted now speed walking down stairs making my to the kitchen where supposedly gojo was suppose to be at.

"gojo?" i called out loud now making my way to the kitchen not hearing a sound. no sounds of knifes, sounds of pots and pans and no sizzling sound of oil frying or butter sizzling in the frying pan.

taking a few more steps towards the kitchen I finally made it there seeing the kitchen looking clean and untouched, I looked around searching for some type of gojo or note around the large kitchen to see a yellow paper on the kitchen island.

I walked up to the kitchen island to get a better glimpse of the paper to see gojo tapped a Mickey Mouse sticker to stick the paper on the gray marble kitchen island.

—

sorry I couldn't cook you breakfast today I had to rush to work this morning also I had but your keys in the cabinet under this note, love you sweetheart

have a good day a work today ! <3

—                                                                                     

I read the note throughly and kept reading in my mind 'i had to rush to work this morning'

gojo never liked going to work early especially not before making me breakfast, plus he didn't have to go to work early early since he was the CEO of the now famous and booming company that sold medicine.

I sighed and looked down now beginning to open the cabinet that held my keys and took them out in a haste making the key jingling sound resonate around the kitchen.

taking my phone out of the front pocket of the high waisted plaid trousers that I wore with a tucked in white dress shirt paired with some nude heels that a bought not to long ago, with the phone in my hand I began to go to my contacts and scroll to the contact name

UTAHIME

my manager

not even after one dial utahime answered the phone with her overly excited voice on the other line of the phone.

" [ Y/N ] , I can't believe you landed the part in this romance movie, do you remember it's actually the first ROMANCE MOVIE YOU EVER BEEN IN ??!? " utahime basically buzzed from the phone .

" yes utahime, I know and I'll be coming to the set a bit late— "

" [ y/n ] you know you can't come late, or else you WANT something bad to happen to you ? " she told me voice having some weird kind of vibe or tone hidden in it it was very......intimidating or so ?

" ok then I'll be on time, for gods sake "

she hummed in agreement over the line before I decided the conversation was over and quickly hung up the phone hastily shoving it in my pocket while making my way towards the front door of the large mansion.

'I haven't heard that tone from utahime in a long time, this must be important'

—

making my way on the set their were a few glances coming my way but I brushed them off as nothing as I began walking to the heart of the set where they would be setting about everything and double checking background items and actors before all the action .

" [ Y/N ] ! "

I heard someone voice I recognized immediately called me from the front of me.

I began walking closer to my manger utahime who had a another women standing beside her, she had on a white turtle neck with some plaid grey slacks topped with a long black trench coat.

I finally up close to utahime and lady on the side of her I can clearly see the mole on the side of her eye which looked beautiful and the cigarette she kept in between her index and middle finger causally taking puffs from it every now and then.

" [ Y/N ], this is the director of the movie you'll be starring in, her name is- "

" shoko, shoko ieiri " she cut off utahime with her hand hand, requesting for a formal handshake

Lifting my hand up to reach it for hers I shook her hand looking in her eyes to see looking right back in my eye.

I can see her eyes had slightly narrowed at me before the side of her lips slightly quirked up into a small smirk before it quickly vanished.

" where's the love interest in the movie ? "I questioned out of curiosity wondering where they can be .

" IM HERE " a voice called out slash shout across from where me, utahime and shoko were standing.

curiosity got the best of me and I had to ask someone who that was

" who's the person that just shouted out a couple seconds ago ? "

" that's your character love interest in the movie " shoko told me before taking a puff out of her cigarette.

I can see the said female who was supposedly my character love interest walk closer to me before she stopped directly in front of me.

" I presume your [ y/n ] [ l/n ], my character love interest right ? " she asked pausing to see and hear my response.

I physically nodded and let out a simple yes

" not be nosy or anything but,   

what kind of girls are you into ? "

what's up with me writing books and gojo always a cheater-

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chapter [ 002 ]

i just stood there, not knowing how to answer her question while shoko backed away a little to observe the scene more throughly with the cigarette still placed between her lips and utahime looking directly at me with a questionable look on her face.

"I don't think I meet the executive producer, writer and my other cast members" i said quickly excusing my self from the conversation trying to avoid that question and the heavy lingering eyes that were around me.

" oh yeah the executive producer and writer are both standing near the camera in......! " utahime shouted but voice soon getting distorted the further I walked away.

I could see to beautiful females standing near the camera in front of the living room set which was supposedly the living room of the character I was playing.

her name was Bree, Bree Livingston. she was a regular hardworking girl who worked as a personal secretary to the "first" female CEO she has ever seen.

you can say the character I played was kinda basic.

but nevermind that.

walking up to the executive producer seat that was placed infront of the living set of bree's living room I guessed seeing the place was very small but homey.

I could see the one in the executive producer chair have their dark greenish hair tied up in a ponytail with their glasses tipped on the brick of their nose, moving to the side a little I could see the other female that was leaning down next to her, she has mid-length ginger hair that reaches to her neck that is styled with bangs that cover the left side of her forehead.

how close they were to each other would almost seem as they were a couple.

" [ y/n ] ? " you hear the girl with the greenish hair call out to you making the other female on the side of her turn around to face you dead in the eye at the first glance your way.

" oh, I was just wanted to say hi since you were nearby and since I will be working with you for the next 6 months "

you said suddenly feeling shy with how both the close females were looking at you up and down intensely as if there in thought of something.

" I like her "

you nearly didn't hear the words come out of the ginger haired female.

slightly taken aback by the sudden statement your eyes slightly widen and eyebrows slowly raised.

they both studied your facial expressions closely in pure interest.

' just what exactly did you sign up for ? '

" I presume you meet your co-star that's playing as your love interest in the movie, hm ? "

the greenish haired girl asked me taking a very short pause in her sentence when the ginger haired girl reached her hand out to take the glasses off of her co-worker (?) face to place it in her shirt having one of the legs of the glasses open and the other closed to make it stay in place on her shirt.

they made eye contact for a few long seconds before they both turned back to me with a hungry gaze.

you can feel a sudden shiver go down your spine at the sudden change of gaze and had to close your eyes for a few seconds to catch your breath.

" yea, I meet her already, she was very ' enthusiastic ' "

you said replaying back in your mind the past if events that played out previously.

" what kind of girls are you into ? "

it just kept replaying in your head till you yourself start to question if you were really straight or gay. you were confused. It confused you

" are you okay, ms.gojo ? " it seemed like that particular name brought you back to reality with a grimace on your face and moving your head slightly to look at who called you by that name.

it was a girl ( presumably one of your coworkers ) .

" o-o-oh I'm s-so sorry so you not want to be called that....? "

the girl rambled noticing the grimace on your face, her beautiful shade of blue hair moving swiftly with how she's moving her hands around and pacing back and fourth as if she's going to be fired by this one small minor slip up.

' this must be the first big movie she ever landed in......'

" that's miwa kisumu, she'll be playing as your character sister in the movie "

" I-it's really an honor to meet you I-i-ive been a fan of you for a-quite s-s-s— "

you could tell she wasn't going to finish that sentence till the next five minutes with how she was stuttering and stumbling upon her words.

placing a hand on her shoulder she immediately turned read all over her face to her neck down, and you thinking that putting a hand on her shoulder would relax her it just made matter worser.

" just breathe and let the words out slowly, ok ? "

you instructed her to do not paying attention to the two other females on the side of you watching the scene play out the dark eyes.

" it's a real honor to be working with you [ y-y/n ] "

she said with more confidence now making you smile triumphantly.

" good girl "

—

SHOKO POV

" I like her "

" who ? " both yuki and utahime questioned me.

" ms.gojo "

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[ y/n ] [ l/n ]. the name alone brought a joyous smile to all of her co-workers faces .

what she didn't know was that those joyous smiles would soon turn into wary smiles and suspicious glances shooting in her direction from the same co-workers who were like family to her.

something she wished she had

and her whole life and career she worked hard for came tumbling down like a house of cards

and it was all because of that one married couple.

CORRECTION

near divorced married couple.

who were....

## [ the so called married couple for the press but the most problematic and disagreeing couple behind closed doors ]

so how did you even end up being their marriage counselor ?

how did a single mom like you that's late for work everyday get caught up with them and was named with the title of

THE HOME-WRECKER

" I presume you want a lap dance too, hmm ? "

pieck eyes visibly widened at the assumption and she quickly looked behind her where her friends were to see them STILL had their gazes lay on the pole.

pieck turned her head around to see [ y/n ] staring at pieck like she was in thought of something looking pieck up and down with the slightest smirk on her face.

pieck movements stuttered trying to figure out what she should say as a response but came up with nothing, all her brain could think about is how close [ y/n ] was to her, she can smell the expensive sweet floral fragrance of apple and jasmine that made my use to tense muscles immediately relax in her presence.

[ y/n ] noticed this fact and smiled lightly before speaking.

" you still haven't accepted the offer, why is that ? " [ y/n ] asked the female in front of her now raising her soft manicured hand to catch pieck chin in between both her index finger and thumb.

pieck visibly shuddered at the contact before letting out a shaky breath trying to gather all her thoughts around to speak aloud a regular sentence as a respond without stuttering or just saying incoherent words.

" oh um, s-sure, should I pay for extra ? for the um lap dance ? "

pieck asked unsure what to do until [ y/n ] dropped her hand from pieck chin to lift both her hands to grip on pieck shoulders unconsciously pressing her breast against piecks chest making the girl visible gulp.

" why don't I bring you to my private room ? "

—

finally snapping out of their trance, yelena and hange both looked around quickly trying to make out where pieck was in the crowd since they had to head back to their 'headquarters' before the ackerman family got worried.

" where did pieck go ? " yelena asked hange searching around the club.

"oh, you looking for ya friend with the messy hair ?" a voice said behind us making me turn around quickly to where the voice was.

"woah call down, I just wanted to tell you ya little friend went with [ y/s/n ] in her private room, she must be one lucky or important to [ y/s/n ] for her to bring someone in her private room for FREE" the man slurred raising his hands up in defense when yelena reached the the side of her hip and took ahold of some holster when the man approached both her and hange.

yelena turned to hange who turned to yelena with the same questionable look on their faces.

how did pieck get to go in a private room with [ y/s/n ] and how for free ?

they both thought in their heads.

"where is the private room located ?" hange questioned, the first one to come out of the confused stated as she asked the half drunk man next to her.

"in the far back of the club on the left, the coldest part of this damn place"

—

after [ y/n ] lead me to the back left of the club we both enter a large light gray painted room that was filled with the color sage green, I can see there was a long sage green rectangular cage in the back of room and a shiny silver stripper pole in the middle of the room that was the same like the one me yelena and hange saw but this one had a bigger diamond imprint of her 'name', at the bottom and top of the pole I read 'MANEATER' in bold shiny words curtsy to the diamonds.

"you can seat right here" she said maneuvering me by my shoulders to the leather seat that was place close to the strip pole.

usually customers who wanted a private lap dance paid a 1000 every 20 minutes if more then that'll add another 1000 to the cost.

but for some odd reason [ y/n ] felt generous for the petite women infront of her.

"you want a lap dance ? up close strip tease ?

or something better "

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DESSERT CONCEPT

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dessert making status: married!jean kiristein x marriage counselor!reader

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VOICEMAIL

lollipop (guren x reader) // smut

maneater (yelena x hange x pieck x reader) // 18+ fanfic // stripper!reader // cunnilingus

adam and eve (chuuya x reader) leading to be a 18+ fanfic

neko (dazai x reader) 18+ fanfic // sub dazai + soft dom reader + mommy kink + lactation kink + pegging + use of strap on

the rules (geto x reader) 18+ fanfic // dom geto + sub reader // DDLG + squirting + cum eating + multiple orgasms + overstimulation

cookies and cream (ranpo x reade) 18+ // bathroom sex + cumniligus + roughish sex (?)

A quick turn of events, part 1.

Beetlejuice x FemReader Mafia AU

Eventuall smut starts in part 2.

Possible TW: smoking, alcohol

-> part 2

The Don

A thin layer of smoke floats in a dimly lit room. The soft sounds of a fireplace crackling and dying out. A dark wooden desk is overflowing with papers and stacks of money. There's a glas of whiskey. Still cold. A ball of ice floating slowly around. Making a soft clink when it hits the glass. A full ashtray with a half smoked cigar resting on the edge. Smoke rising from the tip.

As the fireplace let's out it's last big crack from the burnt wood a chair creaks. In the darkness behind the desk it slowly turns around. Facing the door. A hand reaches out from the shadows. Elegantly picking up the cigar and lifting it up to the owners lips. Then it picks up the glas and swirls the whiskey around. The ball of ice clinking around in the glas. A low and raspy voice mutters into the silent room.

"I feel like the club could use a checkup today."

Sweeping the floor of a local store, Y/n couldn't wait to finish her shift. It was Friday. The end of the first week at her new job. She had been invited to go out together with some of her colleagues. And she was excited about it. She'd get to know them more than just at work. Y/n had moved across the country for a fresh start. So she felt happy that her colleagues wanted to invite her. It made her feel more included in her job and around them. Made her confident with her new start.

After closing up shop and saying goodbye to the others working the closing shift she walked home. It wasn't a long walk. Probably a five minute walk or so. Y/n spent the afternoon getting ready. Taking a shower to wash away work and feel fresh. She rested and ate some food while her hair was drying. Taking her time to doll up a little and listening to her favourite songs.

Before leaving she checked her outfit in the mirror. She had put one of her black dresses on. One that she liked and felt at least at bit pretty wearing. She put on her high heeled boots that somehow matched with the dress. Her hair was free and wild, it felt good. She had put on her favourite pair of silver hoop earrings and some mascara. A simple but pretty necklace to match the earrings. She actually felt pretty cool. Posing and being silly in front of the mirror before she left. Smiling while leaving her apartment.

She met her colleagues just down the street. Waving and saying hi as she approached them. She felt curious about the place they were going. A local nightclub. Y/n had never been in a place like that before. It was exciting. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she walked together with her colleagues. They assured her that this place was amazing and that she would love it. Telling her about all the different drinks. The music. The decor of the place. Mentioning that some local hotties usually went there too. Maybe she could have some fun with an attractive guy tonight. As they got closer Y/n could hear the low beat of the music. The entrance looked spectacular. Almost like an old timey cinema but way more class. The inside kept it vintage and classy but still feeling like a nightclub. She was in awe. Here eyes not knowing where to look first.

Her colleagues lead her to the bar. They started ordering drinks of all sizes and colours. Once Y/n got her drink she started looking around herself just taking in the scenery of the club. She sipped at a bright green drink that tasted like a sweet delicious apple as she looked around. It looked so elegant while keeping the club and nightlife wild. It was full of black, green and gold. Purple neon lights tastefully placed. Sitting booths had dim orange lighting. The whole place felt so eccentric and perfectly balanced. People where dancing, lounging and having fun. It even had a VIP lounge too. Not that it seemed to really be used right now. She thought it was empty at first glance. Looking back at it she could she teh outline of man leaning on the railing. She looked away. Was his eyes glowing? No. That's just silly. It was probably just the glow of his cigarette. Yes. That must have been it.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder she jumped slightly and turned around. Her heartbeat skyrocketed for a second. She turned to see one of her colleagues smiling and laughing. Y/n let put a relived breath and a laugh.

"Didn't mean to scare you, but I wanted to ask what you think so far?"

Y/n started smiling again as she answered.

"Oh, it's great. This place looks so cool. I couldn't even have imagined a more impressive place."

Giving an honest answer. She turned slightly to look up at the lounge again. The man was gone now. Only smoke seemed to flow gently from the lounge. Who was that guy. Was it even a guy in the first place? And why did she feel so curious. Something about it felt so mysterious. Her colleague looked up at the lounge too now. Cocking an eyebrow. They looked back at Y/n before they spoke out.

"It's probably just the Don. He owns the place. Rarely visits though. Heh, maybe someone will have a lucky night today."

She looked at her colleague. Giving her a slight look of confusion. Not understanding what was so lucky about the Don visiting his own club. He didn't even seem to wanna be around other people at all. How odd.

"Lucky night? How?"

Y/n asked and took a sip from her drink. Interested in what they meant. How could it be any different than any other night. It didn't seem like he did to much out of being there. Her colleague put her drink on a tall lounge table they stod close to.

"Okay, so here's the juicy story of how this could be a lucky night. That man up there is a single, powerful and handsome dude. And.. He usually picks out a gal maybe even a few later in the night to spoil while he's at the club. So if anyone has some luck maybe he'll pick one or more of us to join him later. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

Y/n looked back up at the lounge. A bit lost in thought. Not really sure if it was something to be excited about or just ignore it all together. She shifted her view and looked into her drink.

"Yeah.."

Her colleague slightly bumps her shoulder and giggles.

"Come on, let's join the others and have some fun. Really let loose tonight."

Smiling and nodding Y/n finishes her drink. Puts the glass down on the table and joins her colleagues on the dance floor. They dance and joke together. Having a blast and forgetting the rest of the world for a while. They even play some billiard and shuffle board. Her colleagues try flirting with some hot people. Some end up leaving with their catch of the night. Y/n didn't really find anyone interesting. She still had the curious thought of the Mafia boss in the back of her mind. It was intriguing. Getting back to the bar Y/n orders a drink that sounds interesting. She chats with one of her colleagues. Feeling happy and content with her night.

That's when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Huh? She turned to look at who tapped her shoulder. She froze up a little . Even other people around started slightly. A tall and pale man looked down at her with a serious face. He looked almost like a ghost. He wore a beautiful dark blue suit with silver accessories. His dark hair was slicked back. His right ear had a rift in it. Hands behind his back. A raspy yet soft and dark voice spoke out. Was this the Don your colleague spoke about. He looked so intimidating and handsome.

"Follow me."

Y/n blinks a few times. What? What's happening now. She looked to her colleagues in confusion. Then back at the man. They where just as shocked as her. This surely had to be a mistake.

"Me? Are you sure?"

The man just looked down at her with the same serious face. Not angry or annoyed. He just looked calm as he answered.

"Yes, boss asked for you spesifically."

Y/n turned to her colleagues. One of them whispered and shooed her to follow him. Smiling at her.

"The Don obviously picked you. Come on. Go. Enjoy it."

The man turned and started walking towards the stairway of the VIP lounge. Y/n quickly followed. She smiled and waved goodbye to her colleagues. Questions passed through her head on the way up to. Who was the Don if this wasn't him? What could he possibly want with her? Was she dreaming? How is she the one to be picked. She wasn't even the prettiest girl in the club. Was he really sure she was the right girl? She didn't even have time to ask before he stopped. He opened a black door leading into the lounge stepping aside to let her in first. She softly thanked him and nervously went in. The tall man closed the door behind him and stood guarding next to it. The beat of the music still going but sounding a lot lower. Not knowing what to expect she looked around. Curious of what was going on. Only thinking of being respectful. Better to be safe than sorry, right.

Y/n looked around in the dark room. It looked empty. Except for the glass of whisky on the table. A black couch stretching along the wall on her right. She felt so confused. How was it empty? Then she noticed the outline of a man sitting on the couch. Fear started creeping into her. Her breath quivered a bit.

"No need to be scared darling."

A voice chuckled from the shadows. A click and he lit a cigarette. The soft glow lit up the mans face for a few seconds. He had a smirk on his face. The shimmer of a gold tooth peaked out in his smirk. A devilish glint in his eyes. Y/n heard the burning from the cigarette. Smoke seeped out in the room from where he sat. He slowly raised from his seat. He snapped his fingers and the room lit up a bit. Still dim but she could at least see better. She could see him now. And he was an impressing looking man. Dangerously handsome. His eyes looked dark as if there was a shadow around them. Almost ghostly. He wore a dark green pinstripe suit complete with a black shirt. A black tie and matching pocket square. He had several gold rings matching his gold tooth. His hair was slicked back and green towards the tips. Just the view of him sent a good feeling up her spine. But how did he do that? Maybe the other guy turned up the lights. The man slowly made his way over to Y/n. He gently placed the cigarette between his lips. His dark eyes studying her. She felt awkward standing there. Not knowing where to place her hands. Not knowing where to look. He walked up to her. He stopped right next to her facing the door and the taller man.

"Antonio, be a gent and get her something to drink would you. Anything she wants."

He turned around. Blowing out another puff of smoke. He never touched the cigarette after having placed it between his lips. It was surprisingly attractive to watch. He never even had the need to take it out to speak. He was waiting for Antonio as he apparently was called. Antonio took a step closer to them.

"Want do you want miss?"

Y/n panicked. What drink did she remember. She didn't really remember any except one.

"Uh..a blue lagoon, thank you."

She felt so out of place. Not wanting to upset any of them. Most of all the Don. He put an arm out and gestured to the couch. Letting her go first and sit down. He sits down next to her, but still keeping a short distance to not make her to uncomfortable. Taking the cigarette and holding it between his index and middle finger. Soflty scratching his chin with the same hand. His dark raspy voice breaking through the low beat of the music down stairs.

"So, I have this proposition for you."

A quick turn of events, Part 2.

FemReader X Beetlejuice Mafia AU

Possible TW: smoking, alcohol, sexual interactions

Part 1 <-

-> Part 3

A proposition

The Don picked up his glass from the table. Taking a sip. He is calm and relaxed. His movements are elegant. Y/n shifts in her seat. A bit taken back at his offer. A proposition? What kind of proportion would he ever want to give her? She looked down at her hands that awkwardly laid in her lap. Picking up the courage to ask.

"What kind of proposition?"

She looked over at him. Feeling a bit uneasy for asking. He didn't make her feel uncomfortable. Quite the contrary, she actually felt an odd sense of security. He smiled and put his glas down. He broke the eyecontact as he stod up and slowly made his way towards the railing to look down at the crowd. One hand in his pant pocket. The other hand holding the cigarette. He snubbed it out on the railing and flicked it out into the club. He didn't care if it hit someone on it's way down. He's done much worse that fling a cigarette at someone. He had much bigger things to worry about than that. Not that it even matters.

"I watched you tonight. You are.."

He paused for a second. His mind working like a fine tuned machinery.

"..different."

He watched the crowd beneath. The way it moved and pulsed. How people acted. They where like ants to him. The reflection of the light dancing in his eyes. He turned around and leaned on the railing. He seemed serious but gave Y/n a smirk.

"So my proposition to you is to come with me. Stay with me. Let me care for you. Your needs. Your want. Your desires. You'll have time to adjust of course. All I ask is for you to be mine."

His tone was stern yet charming. He grinned. His gold tooth showing. The offer didn't seem threatening. It felt.. honest. Y/n felt the warmth in her cheeks at his words. A slight blush would have been visible in better lighting. But she was still left with confusion. Her mind started spinning. Not feeling like she was worth for anything like that. Why her of all people? She needed to process it. Think about what he offered. It was tempting. The apartment wasn't really much to brag about if she was honest. She like her colleagues, but not having to work sounded nice. And he was a really handsome man. Like devilishly handsome. Attractive in a whole new way she couldn't begin to explain. And he had been kind towards her so far. Not posing any kind of threat or violence. He observed her as she thought about his offer.

"So if I say yes I don't have to stay in my apartment, I don't need to work. I can still have some time to myself and go out. I just have to live with you and be yours?"

Y/n looked at him. Slightly nervous but more calm than earlier. She actually started to like the idea of his proposition. She waited for an answer. He nodded, smiling. Lighting a new cigarette and taking a drag. He let the smoke slowly out of his mouth. It slithered up. Smooth motions across his face before it disappeared up into the air. It looked so impressive, made him seen almost like a demon. In a very attractive way. He gently walked towards Y/n. Stopping a few steps in front of her. Looking down.

"All you have to do is say yes."

Y/n looked down at her lap. Looking for anything to hold her sight still on. She really wanted to say yes. But she couldn't get her words out. They where stuck in her throat. It felt so unreal. It all happened so fast. She had just been down with her colleagues. After her first week in a new job. In a new city. And now she's sitting here. In front of a mafia boss who wants her to himself. She tried wagering the positives and negatives. She was lost in thought. So lost that she didn't even notice him gently squatting down in front of her. A calm observing face. He gave her the time she needed. He took her hands and held them in his own. Careful. Comforting. Patient. She looked at him, soflty nodding. Her mind was made up. She managed to whisper out a single word.

"Yes."

It was as if his face lit up. A big grin spreading across his face. His eyes almost sparkling with joy. Both turned their heads as the door opened. It was Antonio coming back. One hand behind his back and the other holding the drink. The Don stod up with his arms out to his sides.

"Ah there you are Antonio! Great timing. Get over here with that glas this deserves a celebration."

He grinned as Antonio came closer. Blowing out a cloud of smoke. Antonio smiled softly.

"Congratulations boss."

He nodded towards the Don as he leaned down and handed Y/n her drink. He gave her a kind and knowing smile.

"Here you go miss. You won't regret your decision."

Antonio almost whispered the last part. He gave Y/n a quick wink that made her blush slightly. She hadn't noticed how similar they both looked. They had their differences of course. Antonio was a bit taller and looked a bit bulkier than his boss. Both had their own colour scheme. She put her glas up to her mouth as Antonio moved away. The Don placed a hand on Antonios shoulder and walked him over to the railings. Y/n could see them talking, but couldn't hear any of it. It was like watching a movie scene with only music in the background. She couldn't hear them at all. They where probably whispering. There couldn't be any other explanation. They where smiling. The Don smirked at Antonio and patted his shoulder. Then Antonio politely left. The Don then turned to Y/n with a broad grin. He walked forward and put a hand out for her to grab and stand up. She put her glas down before she put her hand in his and rose from her seat. He gently placed a kiss on her hand.

"Forgive my manners and let me introduce myself properly. My name is Lorenzo B. Geuse, but you can call me anything you like dear. May I ask what your name is doll?"

He had a seductive smile. His dark eyes looking at her. She could see how a desire grew in his eyes every second. Like he held something back. Waiting. Her cheeks where blushed. A shy smile grew on her face.

"My name is Y/n Y/L/n."

He grinned and softly put a hand on her cheek. His hand felt cold, but it quickly warmed up on her cheek. Odd but she didn't think any of it. He softly stroked his thumb up and down her cheek. Admiring her. She looked at him again. He was so close to her now. She could feel a warmth building inside. The tension in the air. Their eyes locked at each other. He didn't do anything to rush her. He waited for her invitation. When she leaned in for a kiss he got his permission. He kissed her back like he had longed for it. He put his arms on her back and held her closer. She melted into it and put her arms around his neck. It felt so good. Like she was free and whole. She hadn't noticed how she missed feeling wanted. Needed. Panting has they broke apart. They looked at each other with heavy eyelids. He started kissing down her neck. Feeling his way down with his lips. Finding every sweet spot that made her arch and moan softly. He turned her around, hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. She could feel him growing hard against her ass. He continued to explore her neck. His breath heavy on her. She leaned her head back on his shoulder. Panting lightly. She hadn't felt like this in a long time. It felt incredible. He sucked down on her neck leaving a few hickeys to mark her. She was his. Pulling away he pressed a kiss to her temple. His gravely voice pulling her back to consciousness.

"You're perfect doll face.."

He slowly moved his hand down from her hip, stopping at her thigh. Softly squeezing it. He could hear her uneven breathing. Smirking to himself. His fingers delicately curled to pull her dress up, revealing her black lace panties. He moved his hand to her crotch. Her breath hitched at his movements. His fingers gently stroked and pressed into the moist fabric. She never even noticed how wet she had become. How close she was to realise already from the tension alone. He gently rubbed circles in the area her clit was to give her the friction she needed. He observed her every response. Every reaction she had from his touch. As her breath became heavier and small moans formed he started kissing along her neck again. Using his tounge, lips and teeth. Her body started to tense up. He grinned into her neck and continued his work. She became louder as she was close. Her moans was like a sweet dessert to him. As she came her body froze up and she could feel the pulsating inside. He held her close and slowly stopped rubbing. A small whimper was the last sound she managed to make. As she relaxed he kissed her temple again. He picked her up bridal style, letting her rest against his chest. She felt so tired and happy. His voice was the last thing she heard before letting sleep take over.

"Let's get you home darling."

A quick turn of events, Part 3

FemReader X Beetlejuice Mafia AU

Tw: Alcohol, Sexual acts and mentions

Part 2 <-

A new home

Lorenzo stands next to a king-sized bed. Watching Y/n as she sleeps peacefully. He doesn't want to wake her up. Not when she looks so comfortable. It's still early and she could use some rest. He admires how pretty she looks when she's asleep. He let's out a relaxed sigh before he leaves. Walking out of the room he softly closes the door. He puts his hands in the pockets of his dark green lounging robe made of silk. With a swift motion of his arm a cigar appeared in his hand. Already lit and ready. He made his way through the hallway and downstairs to the kitchen. There he spent the morning relaxing. He read the newspaper and drank his coffee. He didn't have to rush to get things done this day. It was pleasant to have a peaceful morning like this. He never admitted how much he actually enjoyed simple things.

Y/n feel so snug and cozy. She felt so comfortable sleeping in during weekends. And she had just had this magnificent dream. It was unlike anything she could imagine. And it was so sensual too. That's when she started to notice something felt different. This didn't feel like her duvet, or her bed at all. Her eyes shot open and looked around. This was not her bedroom. She sat up, examining the room. It was big and luxurious. Like an old victorian manor, draped in gorgeous dark details. She still had her outfit from last night on. None of it has been a dream. It was real. She couldn't believe that it was real. She pinched her arm just to make sure. When she slipped out of the bed to look around the room she saw her boots where neatly placed next to the door. There where also a couple boxes with her name written on them. Opening them and looking inside she saw all of her stuff. All the things she owned and had in her apartment. They had taken care of it all for her. She was shocked that it had happened so quick. She was speechless. Wandering further she discovered a bathroom. It was gorgeous. Big mirrors with intricate golden frames. Beautiful counters. A big vintage tub with beautiful legs. She felt like a princess in a Disney movie. Looking trough another door in the bedroom she found a walk-in closet. It had lots of different clothes, including the ones that she already owned. Had all this happened in one night? This guy worked fast. It was unbelievable. After having looked around a while she wanted to change clothes.

She was quick to change into a pair of her favourite sweatpants and a hoodie. It felt more comfortable than walking around in the dress. After she had changed clothes she ventured out of the room. The hallway was dimly lit and silent. The walls was coverd in all kinds of dark paintings and art. A gothic victoran look just like the bedroom had. She loved the way it looked. The beauty in darkness was so overlooked in today's society and this felt like a fresh breath. Walking along she admired it all. She walked down a dark wooden stair and found her way to the kitchen. She peaked her head carefully in to get a look. She silently walked in and noticed Lorenzo. He was sitting in a chair in the kitchen nook just as he had written in the note. He was reading a local newspaper it seemed like. He had one leg resting over the other. His robe revealed his chest a bit. His hair was chaotic, like he had been electrocuted. His skin looked paler and like he had darker rings around his eyes. She didn't remember seeing that in the club. Maybe it was the difference in lighting that did it. She didn't mind it, he still looked great. But it made her blush slightly seeing him like this instead of in a suit. He didn't even need look up to know she was there. He felt her presence in the room. Nobody could see it on him, but it made him happy. His voice broke the silence in the room.

"Morning doll, slept well I hope. Would you like some breakfast?"

He folded together the newspaper and tossed it onto the table next to him. Looking at Y/n he smirked slightly at her being awake and well rested. She looked so cute in the cozy clothes she had put on. His mind wanted him to get under those clothes and get a better look at what was hiding underneath. Getting to know how she really felt. How she tasted. To learn about her desires. But that would have to wait for now. He had to make sure she felt at home first. Let her know she was safe. Y/n looked around the kitchen a bit as she took a few more steps into the room. She hoped up and sat on the kitchen counter. Dangling her feet a little. She looked at him and nodded.

"Yeah, that would be nice. I do feel a bit hungry."

She felt a bit shy still, but gave him a smile nonetheless. Her stomach rumbled exposing how hungry she really was. Lorenzo smirked and rested his head on his hand. The rumbling of her stomach made her blush so much. It was adorable to see how embarrassed she got by such a small thing. She looked away to not feel so exposed. Lorenzo yelled out a name and waited.

"Dominic!"

Through the kitchen door another man walked in. He looked like Lorenzo too, just like Antonio did. But Dominic was about the same hight as Lorenzo and looked a bit chubbier and bulky. He also had his own colour, red. His left eyebrow had a big scar going through it. It didn't look like he was much of an accessory guy, but he had one goldring on his right hand. He had a soft and content expression on his face. He looked at Y/n and smiled before he turned to Lorenzo.

"Boss?"

"Dominic, would you be so kind and make Y/n something good to eat. She's very hungry."

Lorenzo emphasised the word very. He grinned, then he looked over at Y/n. She was looking down and fidgeting with her fingers. She felt a bit embarrassed. Dominic nodded and turned around. He walked up to Y/n with a kind and curious expression. She looked at him feeling a bit nervous. He didn't have proper language skills, but managed to get his point across.

"What..uh food you want?"

He seemed confident with his question. Lorenzo picked his newspaper up again and continued reading. He didn't seem bothered at all. He actually looked quite happy to Y/n. Despite how emotionless others would have thought he was. Not that he looked like one to admit his own happiness to others either. She smiled to Dominic. His struggle with words didn't bother her. She smiled at him. He gave her a comfortable feeling of kindness. That's what matters. She thought for a second putting one hand on her chin. What did she want? It was a good question. She eventually made up her mind and told Dominic. He simply smiled and nodded. He was quick to start and worked so efficiently. His skill and passion really showed as he made the food. It looked so effortless. Y/n was amazed at his work. It was exciting to watch him. She waited patently and took a seat at the kitchen table. Lorenzo occasionally peeked at Y/n without her noticing. When Dominic was done he elegantly served Y/n her food. He sat down the plate and a glas of juice. It looked so delicious. She looked up at him with a big smile before she dug in.

"Thank you Dominic, it looks amazing."

He smiled and gave a shy nod. She could swear she saw him slightly blush as he turned to go clean up. It honestly made him feel so happy to have someone new be so kind. Dominic thought she was adorable. Y/n quickly started eating and it tasted like heaven. She hadn't tasted anything like it before. It was like it melted on her tounge. The flavour was perfect. Dominic had an incredible talent. When she finished she felt so perfectly full. Not to much and not to little. Just perfect. She wanted to thank him properly, but he had already left. Lorenzo noticed that she was looking for Dominic.

"Don't worry, he knows already."

Y/n looked at him with a slightly confused expression. That was nice to know at least. She didn't want to seem ungrateful. It was honestly the best breakfast she had ever had in her life. Lorenzo put down his newspaper and stod up. He offered his arm to her. Y/n took it and stod up with him. She followed his lead and held onto his arm as they walked out of the kitchen. She felt so safe holding onto him. She didn't expect to feel this way so quick. He lead her to the living room. A beautiful and quiet room. It had a big fireplace with a portrait of Lorenzo above it in the centre. A beautiful oil painting. He looked so handsome, just like he is. In the room there was a gorgeous couch and two chairs made of dark red leather. They where placed around a dark wooden table in front of the fireplace. Lorenzo let go of Y/n and walked up to a bartable in the corner. He poured himself a glas of whiskey. He turned around to watch her as she looked around the room. He had a kind yet serious look on him.

"I'll let you have time to explore the house and feel more at home today. I have some work to take care of. I'm not leaving the house incase you should need me. You have access to everything in this house of course, except for my office. Understood?"

Y/n nodded. She understood.

"Then I'll let you get to it dollface. Enjoy your evening."

He walked up to her and put a hand to her cheek. He placed a soft kiss to her forehead before he left her alone. It was such a sweet act of him. Made her feel safer being in this big house. She spent a couple minutes in the living room before she wanted to find more stuff to explore. Leaving she found a dining room, a big library, a bathroom, and a door that she obviously figured was to Lorenzo's office. As she walked towards the stairs she passed by the kitchen. The house was silent and empty. Walking up the stairs she felt curious. She hoped to find something interesting. Maybe she'd meet Dominic or Antonio during her exploration. She walked down the hallway and past the door where the bedroom was. She found four other bedrooms. Each with their own colour scheme. She figured two of them belongs to Antonio and Dominic at least. One was definitely Lorenzo's. But the fourth purple one was unknown to her. Who's room could it be? She wondered if there was someone else she hadn't met yet.

Moving on she found another smaller living room. The fireplace in there wasn't lit. The lighting was soft. That's when she noticed someone sitting in a chair. They where sat faced away from the entrance of the room. She could only see the slight movement to their body. As she got closer she could hear their breathing was heavy. It was a man dressed in elegant purple clothes. It was probably his room she saw earlier. She got closer and wanted to ask him. Then she recognised his movements. What he was doing. She gasped. Her faced turned red and she froze in her track. He was jerking off. She figured that he probably didn't expect anyone to come into this room. As she was about to turn around his head fell back and his heavy eyes locked with hers. He grinned at her. She felt so embarrassed to have walked in on him. He didn't look like it bothered him at all. In fact he seemed to enjoy that she caught him in the act. He didn't stop. His motion only keeping a steady pace. She couldn't tear her eyes away. He kept jerking as he softly spoke.

"Ya like the show sugar?"

He chuckled as she quickly walked backwards and out of the room. Y/n felt her heart race and had to lean back onto a wall in the hallway. What just happened? It was surprisingly exciting when she got time to process what she just saw. It was actually quite interesting. She couldn't stop replaying it in her mind. He also looked awfully at lot like Lorenzo. Which only made it feel more intense somehow. He was just leaner and had green eyes unlike any of the others. She shook her head and continued her exploring. The scenario was still in the back of her mind, but it was quickly exchanged when she discovered the winter garden. Since she was on the second floor she had to go down a twisted metal staircase. It was a beautiful garden full of different flowers, trees and bushes. She walked around and looked at everything. There was butterflies, bees and even a fishpond. It was so serene there. She was so busy looking that she didn't even notice herself bumping into Antonio.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to walk into you like that."

She got stressed and didn't want to upset Antonio. He just chuckled at her thinking she was cute. She looked awkwardly up at him. His smile was comforting. She started to calm down when he didn't show any sign of anger or irritation.

"Y/n. You're looking around the house I see. How is it?"

She looked at him and smiled. She got excited at his question.

"It's been amazing. Everything looks so incredible. And Dominic is so skilled in the kitchen. But I uh.. Do want to ask who the guy in purple is? I sorta.."caught" him in the living room upstairs."

Antonio cocked his head at how she fraced her sentence. He understood that she had met Valentino, but it was the way she apparently had seen him that made him look serious. He cleared his throat before he answered her. His voice more monotone than before.

"That's Valentino. And he shouldn't have been doing what you're referring to when he knew you'd be walking around today. Excuse me Y/n."

He kindly bowed and quickly made his way past Y/n and up the stairs to the living room. She saw how seriously he took this. It felt nice that he cared like that, but she secretly found it fun that she saw Valentino like that. Valentino, what a fitting name to such a guy. She replayed the scenario in her mind. How he touched himself and leaned back looking at her with those eyes. As if he knew she was there before she even got close to him. She giggled to herself as she made her way back to the main living room through a door next to the twisted staircase. Lorenzo's voice made her jump as she entered the room.

"Having fun dear?"

Lorenzo is sitting in one of the chairs with his legs stretched out and resting on the table. His question was so unexpected when Y/n entered the room. Her little jump made him chuckle to himself. She wasn't scared, she just didn't expect him to be there. She soflty laughed it of and smiled.

"Yes, this place it perfect. I really love it here."

She sat down in the chair opposite from Lorenzo. She sat with her legs tucked to the side underneath her. It was a surprisingly comfortable chair. That was unexpected from such an old chair. She could probably stay in it for hours. Lorenzo pulled a cigarette from thin air. It was lit already. Y/n looked at him with confusion and curiosity. How in the hell did he do that? There's absolutely no one else in the room with them. Is it just a simple party trick maybe? She tried to find a rational solution to it. He just let out a calm sigh and smiled. He soflty shook his head at how confused she looked. She was cute. It was funny to watch as he could almost see how her brain turned.

"Heh, I have an explanation for every little thing you've noticed. It's not some cheap party tricks if that's what you're thinking. You'll understand it in a minute baby."

He followed up his statement by snapping his fingers three times. Shortly after Antonio, Dominic and Valentino came walking in. They really heard those snaps? Wow, they must have incredible hearing. They sat down on the couch next to Y/n and Lorenzo. They all nodded their hellos to Y/n before they looked at Lorenzo. Y/n was still confused about what was going on.

"Well, let's cut to the case shall we?"

Lorenzo flicked the cigarette out into the room and it disappeared midair. He clapped his hands together and looked at Y/n and the boys with an enthusiastic attitude. Y/n didn't know what to expect but listened on as Lorenzo began to explain.

"As you may already know I'm the Don of the mafia in town. But it's only me and the boys if I'm disgustingly honest. I used to work close with humans a long time ago, but they have proven to not be trustworthy. So I only keep them as business partners."

Lorenzo looked at the fireplace. Y/n noticed how infuriated he seemed to be at the people who had betrayed him. She was on edge but not scared. There was no reason to be frightened. Not yet at least. He turned back with an expression as if it was water under the bridge and long gone.

"Anyhow, I am a demon. Which probably explains some basic things for you. As for Antonio, Dominic and Valentino, they are my clones. I'm not quite sure why or how, but they developed their own personalities."

Looking at Valentino he grinned. He pointed a stern finger at Valentino.

"And I believe you, Val, have something to apologise for. As much fun as it might have been to have her catch you in the act."

Valentino was sitting furthest away form Y/n. He had a smug smile plastered to his face. Unlike Valentino, Dominic began to blush when he understood what Lorenzo said. Valentino would have rolled his eyes if he could, but with Lorenzo there he didn't dare. Valentino looked over at Y/n.

"I'm truly sorry Y/n, it won't happen again, I promise. Unless you want it to happen of course. Anything for you sugar."

Valentino winked. Y/n was taken back and blushed. His last comment didn't seem to be a problem to any of the others. They surprisingly seemed to find it either fun or interesting. She honestly thought Lorenzo would be mad or something at Valentino. Lorenzo clears his throat before he starts talking again.

"You see dollface, as my clones they have a direct connection to me. It's weaker than it used to be. I can still sense alot through them, but only when they allow me to."

He took a small brake to let everything sink in. To let Y/n catch up with the information. Let her pretty little head think. He ended with one last question for her.

"Does it still sound nice here with us after what you've heard?"

Lorenzo smriked at Y/n. His gold tooth shimmering by the reflection of the flames in the fireplace. His eyes where dark and seductive. The boys all looked at her. Watching her reactions to everything. They really hoped she wouldn't freak out or panic. Lorenzo knew they wanted her to stay. He felt their desperation. Heard their thoughts rambling over each other. Y/n took a few seconds to think about what she just heard. What it meant. It was more comforting than scary honestly. Well, she would have to get used to the demon and clone thing. But other than that it didn't sound to bad. She looked at them. Antonio had a calm look to him. She couldn't see any type of worry, just calm anticipation. Dominic seemed to be the worried one. He still had a pink tint to his cheeks after hearing how Y/n had met Valentino earlier. Valentino looked pretty relaxed, but he had this sense of curiosity over him. Lorenzo looked pretty content and secure in how Y/n would react. He looked at her with a calm and patient expression. He had a subtle and soft smile that wasn't easily noticeable. Y/n then looked down at the table in the middle. She felt confident in her answer and looked up again.

"Of course I want to stay. I just have to get properly settled and learn more about you guys."

She sounded happy when she talked. Her smile calmed the boys down. She could actually see how they felt more relaxed by her answer. Lorenzo's smile grew. He actually felt relieved that she wanted to stay. There was a small part of him that honestly had felt scared for a second. As the boys gently started to ask Y/n about her day Lorenzo rose from his seat. He listened to their little chatter about her day as he helped himself to a new glas of whiskey. Coming back to the others he spoke up. It fell silent as he started talking.

"I have some work to get back to, but you four enjoy the rest of the day together. Get to know each other better. I'll see you later tonight dollface."

Lorenzo leaned down and kissed her forehead. He ruffled the hair on top of her head with his hand before he walked of. She giggled at his small actions. It really was sweet how he made her feel loved with such simple things. She watched as Lorenzo left the room before she picked up the conversation with the boys. They could hear Lorenzo yell from down the hall before he entered his office.

"You better treat her well boys!"

A quick turn of events, Part 4

Tw: Cursing, sex, kinks?

Part 3 <- -> Part 5

Rules

Y/n had spent the whole day with her new..uh. Roommates? Friends? Whatever. She didn't care about what they were and weren't. They're her boys now. She learned that they're basically her lifeguards and companions when Lorenzo wasn't around. They would do anything to keep her safe and comfortable. She discovered how truly happy they were that she wanted to stay. No one else had wanted to stay for decades. It had become empty and silent. Of course they had Lorenzo and each other, but it wasn't the same. But now that Y/n was there things would change. There would be something to fill their days with purpose. When the time came she said goodnight to them. They smiled and waved goodnight back to her. She thought back on some of the things she found out about them on her way upstairs. It was fun how different they could be.

Valentino was obviously the prankster. He found ways to annoy Antonio and Dominic in everything. But he was also quite flirtatious. He may have been a bit to straight forward because Antonio had to tell him of a few times trough the day. Y/n mostly giggled by that. And Dominic. He seemed like a sweet guy. His problem with speech was present, but it didn't stop him from wanting to talk to Y/n. His interest in food was not a surprise to Y/n after she had seen him in the kitchen. Antonio on the other hand. He was such a quiet and responsible man. She understood that he was the one in charge when Lorenzo was gone. He was a great person to discuss plenty of topics with. She liked how they had their own personalities. She looked forward to hang more with them. They were fun and interesting.

When Y/n entered her bedroom she saw Lorenzo standing by a window. He was looking out into the dark night. She gently walked up and stood next to him. Looking out she tried to see if she could find what he was looking at. Lorenzo looked down at her. It was cute that she tried to find what he was looking at. She wouldn't have a chance with her human sight. He put his arm on her shoulder and pulled her closer as he gazed into the night again. Y/n blushed as the sudden touch. She looked up a Lorenzo. He showed no emotion except from the tone in his voice. A low rough voice asking.

"See something you like dollface?"

Meanwhile down in the living room the boys are arguing. It's not really a fight, but it's a heated conversation to say the least.

"You know better Val! Boss told us to be patient and wait. Don't you act like a fucking idiot."

Antonio hissed at Valentino.

"Oh I'm so sorry for trying to have some fun! It's been fucking decades since the last girl wanted to stay. And she was a boring bitch!"

Valentino snapped back at Antonio. He just wanted to test the waters and have fun. It was exciting with a new person in the house. Valentino had his arm out to his sides to exaggerate his words. Dominic had enough of their quarrelling.

"Both shut it!"

Dominic looked at them both. He rubbed his face. He was tired of listening to them fight over things that had already happened. They would have to wait or else they would have to deal with Lorenzo. Nothing happened until Lorenzo gave them a clear go. Dominic fought hard to put his last thought into a simple sentence.

"Be patient Valentino."

Antonio and Valentino looked at him. They had to admit he was right. Antonio chuckled and sighed. Valentino had to agree that he was acting kinda stupid and out of place. He patted Dominic on his shoulder.

"You're right Nic, as always."

Lorenzo put his hand on Y/ns chin. His thumb gently brushed over her lips. They are so soft and warm. He is yearning to feel her lips. Y/n looks up at him with a soft blush across her cheeks. Lorenzo smirks as he slides his hand behind her neck. His face mere inches from hers. Their lips meet in a soft kiss. Her warmth against his chill. The feeling of a storm building from their tension. An almost overwhelming sense of need. Y/n melts into the kiss. It had the same passion as she had experienced in the club. It started to feel so right. Like putting the last puzzle piece in place. Or finally draw what you imagined. Y/n laid her arms around his neck. Lorenzo picks her up and puts her legs around his waist. He starts walking towards the bed. His hands firmly on her ass. They break the kiss of as Y/n is layed down on the bed. He leans down over her with his hands on each side of her head. He watches as she catches her breath. Her eyes are hazy. Lorenzo grinned. Oh how he relished the feeling of making her feel good. He leaned down next to her ear. His breath on her neck. His sandpaper whisper creating a warm feeling in her lower abdomen.

"You're my little pet.."

A small whine escaped from Y/ns lips. The kind of whine that says yes. Lorenzo nips at her earlobe. He knows exactly how to get his answers.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

She could feel his grin on her neck. He started to kiss down her neck. Making her squirm and hold back a small moan. Her brain went a million miles. She didn't know how to answer. Lorenzo muttered with a teasing voice.

"Oh, use your words baby."

He licked on sensetive spots on her neck. Gently biting. Her back started to arch as he went on. Her breath hitched. She held onto the bedsheets beneath her. She found it hard to speak. Like it was stuck in her throat. She eventually managed to moan out soft words.

"Mh..yes..I want to.. be your pet..p-please."

She had never admitted anything of this her bedroom interest before. Not to anyone but herself. But then again no one had made her feel like this before either. She wanted this and it felt so good. She wanted to be his pet. To serve him and be taken care of. Lorenzo looked into her eyes. He could feel how much she wanted it. He soflty patted her cheek and gave her a sly look. His voice deep and rough.

"Good girl."

Y/ns cheeks blushed deep red. His words felt like he opened the flood gates. Heat has curled down inside her. She could feel herself getting wet. As a reflex she closed her thighs together. Lorenzo noticed her reactions and grinned. He slowly slid a hand down her body and into her sweatpants. His fingers gracing over her underwear. He felt how soaked they had become already and gave her a knowing look.

"Looks like desserts ready."

He sat himself down on the floor. Pulling her legs open and settling between them. Slowly he pulled her sweatpants and panties of and toshed them to the side. Y/n held her breath for a moment. She felt the gentle air against her wet pussy. It felt so much colder than it really was. Lorenzo took a deep breath, lavishing in the smell. How he had missed something like this. He pulled her legs over his shoulders. He started slow by licking up trough her slick folds. Getting the first taste of his pretty pet. He picked up a pace when he ate her out. It was like he had been starved. He licked and sucked all the right places. Y/n arched her back and whimpered at how good it felt. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. Her cheek were hot. She gripped the mattress. He was licking her with suck expertise. The way he emediatly found her clit. How he licked and sucked on it. She felt the pressure of her climax building up inside. The knot tying up. He focused on her clit and carefully inserted two fingers inside her. He curled his fingers to find her spot. He continued the motion while he fixated his mouth on her clit. The combination bringing her right to the edge. He kept it up till he felt her body tense up. Her breath got heavy. He felt her pussy pulsating inside. Clamping his fingers. Her moan crying out as release got to her. He slowed down his motions trough it. Coming to a stop when he felt her body relax again.Lorenzo stod up and gave her a few seconds to come back from the haze. He grinned and looked down at her. He chuckled to himself.

"Let's see what your pretty mouth can do, hm?"

Y/n looked at him. Her eyes growing big as she understood what he meant. She felt eager to see his member now. She sat up and looked up at him. Waiting for his word. He soflty slid of his robe revealing that he was commando underneath. If it wasn't for her already red cheeks she would have blushed all over again. His cock was already hard and ready. She could see precum had already began leaking from the tip. It was soflty twitching. Lorenzo smirked at Y/n.

"Well, it ain't going to suck itself is it?"

Y/n was slightly shocked by his statement at first. But she quickly got to work as she understood how impatient he probably was. She started by placing her hand around his shaft. She licked the tip of his cock and got a taste of his precum. It was a surprisingly good taste. It was sweet yet salty, nothing like regular cum she had tasted before. Lorenzo let out a delighted sound has she licked up the length of his cock. She started sucking at the tip. Slowly taking more. She had a slow and steady pace at first. Getting used to his size and figuring out how to suck him in the best way she could. As she picked up her pace Lorenzo put his hands on her head. He hissed and muttered soft curses under his breath. Moaning at the feeling of her mouth. Her warm tounge. Her soft lips.

"Ah..fuck."

His hips soflty started bucking. Y/n could feel his small motions and worked with it. She put her hands around his hips to get a better hold. He started picking up some pace and dug his fingers into her scalp. Y/n could feel him going deeper into her throat. She felt tears starting to build in her eyes. The feeling of him pushing into her mouth. It felt so good to have him fuck her mouth. Her eyes rolled back as tears started rolling down her cheeks. She moaned around his cock. Heat building up again between her legs. She let him fuck her face. Let him use her. It felt so good to be needed in such a primal way. Lorenzo looked down at her. His breath heavy and eyes hazy. How beautiful she looked with his cock in her mouth. He pulled out of her mouth with a pop. Leaving her panting heavily with an open mouth. She looked at him with heavy eyes. He pulled her up and turned her around. He held her close with a hand on her neck. Whispering into her ear.

"Let's discuss some rules shall we?"

Y/n nodded. Still hazy and like she was floating on a cloud. Yet eager to know what kind of rules they would have. With a low, stern and passionately aggressive voice he started.

"Number one. Don't be rude or act like a spoiled fucking brat."

Lorenzo pushed her forward onto the bed so she was standing in doggy style. Her head sideways so she could look back at Lorenzo. He put a hand on her ass soflty rubbing over it. Rubbing lower he let his thumb slide through her folds. Feeling the slick and warmth. He took his cock and soflty rubbed the tip over her entrance.

"Number two. You will refer to me as either sir or daddy when told so."

He pushed his cock hard into her pussy. Y/n let out a whiny moan. He was balls deep in her. Giving her a moment to adjust he leaned closer over her back.

"Number three. I will respect your boundaries, you just let me know."

He started pulling back. Almost all the way out before he slowly pushed back in. He set a agonisingly slow pace. Y/n started whimpering. Wanting more. Needing him to speed up. Lorenzo grinned. A devilish look on his face. As he gave another hard thrust into her and stopped. He spoke up again.

"Number four. You'll have to use you words if you want something dollface."

Y/n shut her eyes and whined as he pushed slowly in again. Filling her to the brim. He stopped when fully seathed inside her he waited for her.

"mh faster..please..."

He slid his hand to her shoulder and held firmly onto it. His other hand on her hips. Having a good grip on her.

"Please what?"

Her mind rushed to find the answer. She felt a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Rule number two! She hurried to answer him.

"Y-yes sir."

He smirked satisfied and gave her a pat on the ass.

"Atta girl."

He held onto her hip again as he started thrusting. When he found her g-spot he kept a good pace. As he sped up chasing climax he moved his hand to her throat. Gently pulling her back into an almost standing doggy. He was careful to not choke her. He just held a firm grip to hold her up. His pace amping up. Getting rougher. Harder. His fingers digging into her hips. His nails leaving marks. Her moans got louder. She whined desperately for release. Her head leaned back. Eyes rolling. Focused on the feeling of him pumping in and out. His thrusting force and aggressive pace. She could feel her core tighten. The knot tying once again. She stiffened in her position. Going with his motions. Lorenzo held her closer. Putting his chin on her shoulder. His heavy breath in her ear. Grunting with every thrust as he got closer. She felt herself tighten around his cock as she tumbled over the edge. Her knot unfurled. The sweet pulsating sensation shooting through her. Lorenzo groaned against her neck.

"You feel so fucking good.."

He came to a finish with his last hard thrusts into her. Burying himself deep inside her as he came. His cock pulsing and twitching. Cum pumping into her. He held her close kissing her neck. He whispered into her ear.

"Number five. There's always time for some aftercare."

He pulled out of her. A soft moan escaped from her lips at the feeling of him sliding out. The sudden emptiness she felt. Y/n slumped down onto the bed. She felt so tired and content. Lorenzo sat down on the bed next to her. He stroked her back. A soft expression formed on his face as he watched Y/n. Lorenzo spent a good hour with her before she fell asleep. He had taken care of her after their first proper session together. Made sure she felt good. He looked over at her one last time before he left.

A quick turn of events, Part 5

TW: Cursing, sex

Part 4 <-

Good morning

"Val! You god damn fucking pervert!"

Y/n woke up with a shock. It had only been a few days. Or had a week already gone by? Anyway she wasn't used to hearing them yell at Valentino yet. She heard a maniacal laugh trough the hallway. He has obviously been up to something salicious. He probably annoyed the shit out of one of them with his perverted humour. Y/n giggled imagining what Valentino possibly could have been up to. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. She grabbed some fresh clothes from her wardrobe and went to the bathroom.

The main door of Y/ns room quickly opened and closed. It was Valentino. He's trying to hide from Antonio. He didn't realise what room he had jumped into until he actually looked around. He grinned when figuring out it was Y/ns. Listening he understood she was in the bathroom. Perfect opportunity. He went through her stuff hoping to find something dirty. Anything really. If she had any toys. Lingerie. A diary. Getting to know her private side. He obviously grabbed a pair of her panties. Perfect for later use when he's jerking it. Hey, he's a pervert and not ashamed of it. Disappointed in not finding anything else he just waited around in her bedroom. He sat down in a chair conveniently placed in the corner of the room. Just out of sight, so she wouldn't immediately notice him when walking out of the bathroom. When she came walking out in just a t-shirt and panties his eyes widened and he couldn't help himself. His eyes went back to a relaxed state as he gave a whistle and spoke out.

"Well good mornin sweet 'cheeks'."

He emphasised the word cheeks. A smirk on his face, checking her out from top to bottom. Y/n jumped and spun around. She was shocked by him just being there. When did he get there? And what was he doing in here? She was so surprised and didn't know what to say. Valentino chuckled. She was cute.

"I know I look good, but I if I'd known you'd be speechless I'd be here sooner. Damn sugar."

He smiled and leaned back in the chair. Y/ns cheeks developed a soft pink blush. She really wasn't prepared for this. What the fuck was she supposed to say? She took a breath and tried to brush it off. But Valentinos expression made it hard. He was looking so flirtatious. Like he didn't see anything weird about just being in her room without permission. Well on second thought it wasn't that weird. He was the most pervy guy in this house. And it was inevitable that he would show up one way or another. She built up a short lasting confidence.

"Uh w-what are you doing here?"

He looked her up and down. Then he smiled at her with a smug face.

"Lookin at you obviously."

He looked so satisfied with his statement. Y/n rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"No, why are you here? Why are you in my room?"

Valentino gave her a fake surprised expression. Like he didn't understand what her first question obviously had meant. He gave her an over dramatic answer. His smug smile only growing.

"Oh, oh that's what you meant. Course, how dumb of me. Hidin from Antonio. He's callin me a pervert for no reason again."

Y/n knew there was a good reason for Antonio to call him a pervert. She nodded at his answer. She sighed.

"Mhm mhm, okay."

She closed her eyes and rubbed her face to collect her thoughts for a second. When she opened her eyes again Valentino was standing. She was a bit shook, but didn't have a big reaction. She looked at him, not sure what he was doing. Then she noticed a certain familiar shape. The bulge in his pants. She quickly looked away. She cleared her throat and was about to turn towards her closet. Valentino had noticed everything and grinned. He even had permission from Lorenzo now. In a seductive low tone he spoke up. Breaking the awkward silence.

"Come to daddy, I'll show you a good mornin."

Y/n froze in her step. Her cheeks flushing red. She didn't know what to do at first. His words softened her up. She wasn't sure she heard correctly. Did he mean what she thought he meant? With a unsure face she stumbled out a question.

"Do uh, does Lorenzo know what I think you're saying right now?"

Valentino nodded confidently. He tapped his temple. Indicating his connection as Lorenzo's clone. He snickered. One hand in the pocket of his jacket, the other groping his junk. Y/n felt her heart beating.

"Let's get some 'exercise'. "

A weird and strong arousal took over her. His lewd mannerism got the best of her. He walked closer to her and put a finger under her chin. Tilting her head up to look at him. Y/n gulped. She felt so nervous. The intense sexual tension that had formed in just a few seconds. Heat building up. The tingling sensation of getting wet. She nodded and looked into his eyes. He smirked and pushed a kiss onto her lips. A needy, desperate kiss. Filled with eager lust. Y/n quickly melted into it and felt herself being turned on. Valentino picked her up. Her legs around his waist. The bulge of his member against her crotch. His arms under her ass supporting her weight. Using this to his advantage and softly lifting her up and down. Rubbing himself against her. Y/n soflty moaned at the friction. After a short minute Valentino used one hand to unbuckle and zip open his pants. His cock springing free. Then he pushed Y/ns panties to the side. He let his cock rest against her pussy before he lined up with her entrance. He broke of their deep kiss and pushed himself in. Y/n moaned loudly out. Her head falling back at the sensation. Valentino watched her with a triumphant expression as he groaned out.

"Mh so fuckin tight."

He had been so impatiently yearning for this. And now he finally got to fuck her. He roughly began pumping into her at an animalistic pace. Y/n gritted her teeth and shut her eyes. She whimpered and made incoherent noises. It felt so intense. The angle he was fucking her in somehow aligned with her g-spot. His cock pumped in and out, hitting her spot over and over. Valentino got slower but harder in his thrusts. It made Y/n groan a bit. It felt so good. She could feel herself tensing up. She could hear Valentino cursing as he got closer to climax.

"Oh fuck, so fuckin good.."

Y/n couldn't help herself. She couldn't hold it anymore. She gripped his shoulders as she came. Moaning louder than she had expected to. Valentino caved in after her with one last thrust. Burying himself in her. Grunting at the feeling of ejaculating. Their climaxes pulsated in unison. He grinned as he pulled out and heard Y/n gasp. He liked. No. Loved how much she actually seemed to enjoy it. He carefully put her down. Still having a grip on her to make sure she could stand before he let go. He gave her a pat on the ass and a kiss on the cheek. A sweet gesture by his own standard. He tucked away his cock and fixed his outfit. He gave her a small wave as he opened the door.

"I would've loved to stay longer sweet thing, but I think Antonio might've heard my whereabouts."

Y/n heard his low chuckle as the door closed and he was off. She sat on her bed and laid down on her back. What a way her day had started. A smile growing shyly. It had been quite fun if she was honest. Feeling his cum leaking out and soaking her panties she got up. She better get cleaned up. Y/n had put on a t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. She felt pretty for just staying in. She made her way to the main living room downstairs. Wondering what she would be doing today. Entering the room she saw Lorenzo sitting by himself reading the newspaper. He was dressed in his dark green pinstripe suit. And of course smoking a cigar. He looked up at Y/n.

"Good morning Y/n, heard your day started off good."

Y/ns cheeks flushed pink. His statement making her feel a bit embarrassed. But it really had been good. She looked away to embarrassed to meet his gaze. She rubbed her neck not sure what to say.

"Heh yeah I guess so."

She smiled sheepishly. Feeling a bit awkward. Lorenzo tossed the newspaper away and stod up. He walked over and looked down at her. His face was cold and monotone. With a sudden change he gave her a smile. A real genuine smile, even though he still looked cold in his appearance. Y/n softly cocked her head to the side. Unsure of what's about to happen. His hand on her chin resting his thumb on her lower lip. A hint of joy in his dark raspy voice.

"And it will keep getting better dollface."