includes::bruce wayne x fem!reader x talia al-ghul, married!brutalia, baby-sitter!reader, implied age gap, established marriage, power imbalance, mature content (17+), oral (f. receiving), threesome [f/m/f], PiV, multiple orgasms, licking, biting, sloppy / messy, oral fixation, titty sucking, finger-fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, grinding, begging, possessive behaviour, voyeurism, sexual tension, lowk manipulation, creampie, implied scissoring, alcohol ingestion, 8.7k words.
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extras:: reader is extra pathetic in this lol sorry if that isnt your jam i just thought 'what would i do if i was in this situation???' and well...! at least yall know id act like a pathetic loser lmfao.
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loren's thots:: did i do my big one w this guys................lowk....i think i did......my dih was so hard writing this i love being bisexual wrote this listening to pushing p, tbh, n' les and wow!!!!!! 10/10 experience i recommend......... and no i dont have a good relationship with both of my parents before u ask....................
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main m.list | join my taglist <3
FOR A CHILD so meticulous, bruce and talia had been nothing short of skeptical when their son had expressed interest in their latest babysitter-- you.
"please," damian had sighed diplomatically at the dinner table (the night following your trial run), "she is quite adequate for the job. she provides snacks when i am peckish, takes great interest whenever i express my fondness of animals, and most importantly-- leaves me be when i crave independence."
his mother and father had shared a brief glance across the long dining room table; bruce's navy irises meeting talia's emerald. "if she is to your liking, then i see no issue in hiring her officially," he tried cautiously, practically in disbelief that his son had actually liked one of the many babysitters the wayne al-ghuls had tried.
talia nodded, running a hand through her thick, brown tresses-- fingers fiddling idly with her fork. "i agree, beloved. it's not every day we hire someone to your standards," the woman teased to her son, only to be met by a fierce jade gaze.
"that is not true," damian had huffed. "i am just... fastidious."
standing from the table, bruce had run a strong hand through damian's dark locks-- the younger boy's hands immediately swatting his father's away. "being particular is not a bad trait to have, son," bruce said, rounding the table to press a kiss to talia's cheek, "i'll let her know she's hired tonight."
°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °
so you had quickly become apart of the many moving cogs that kept the wayne al-ghuls spinning-- every tuesday and thursday (and occasionally weekends), the grand doors to the manor opened wide to allow you access into a world you once had no concept of.
damian would greet you by a swift reciting of your last name and a tip of his head-- only to wander off to whatever activity he had been engaged in prior to your arrival; leaving you alone in the obscenely large house, to do whatever you pleased.
never had you really thought about abusing this power-- actively choosing to stick to the first few rooms they had shown you on your trial night; a lounging room with windows spanning the floor to ceiling, additionally sporting an impossibly large television, a library with thousands of books, and one of the three kitchens within the manor. really, there had never been any reason for you to wander about-- for damian chose these same rooms to galivant (save for his own quarters, and dedicated animal room) on nights you were around.
besides, you had learned the couches with impeccable looking leather and the softest of throw pillows and blankets was not just for decoration. curling up with your phone or a good novel, hours would pass instantly-- leaving you no time to explore the home even if you had wanted to, for bruce and talia always returned home from their formal events or work-related endeavors right when they said they would.
punctuality and routine was something both of the older individuals practically thrived on-- never relying on you for emergency based babysitting. choosing strict days of the week for your arrivals, the couple never needed to resort to you as a last contact.
except for tonight.
an unassuming friday night with the moon already miles high above gotham, your phone had rung once. then twice, before you had picked up. seeing the contact-- MRS. WAYNE-AL-GHUL-- had sent a certain shiver down your spine; one you could not place as fear nor anxiety, but perhaps something else entirely foreign.
(attraction.)
"we hate to do this to you, dear," talia had spoken sincerely into the phone, though urgency weaved its way into her words, "but something for bruce's work has come up, and alfred is off, so we're left with no choice."
with little hesitation, you had answered. "oh," you breathed, "it's really no trouble. i'll be over as quick as i can."
there was a distant chatter barely audible through the phone-- talia and bruce discussing something-- before bruce's voice became clear on the other end of the line.
"expect double your usual rate," bruce had said calmly, "we can't thank you enough."
the drive had been fast-- gotham's concrete and grey blurring into thick, forested greens as your car approached the manor; talia and bruce already standing, waiting, expecting, your arrival by a sleek, expensive looking limousine.
as you stepped out of your car, the man made an advancement in your direction; one sturdy palm placed gently on your shoulder, bruce pressed a neat (and thick) envelope into your hands.
"five hundred," he murmured easily, "thank you, again. i apologize for the lack of notice, but certainly--"
something about bruce's hold on your frame made your gut flip excitedly. you cut him off with a simple shake of your head. "please, mr. wayne," you reassured, "things happen. i get it."
a rare grin briefly dusted across bruce's face and the crow's feet at his eyes deepened. "right," he agreed, finally letting go of your shoulder. bruce swallowed, re-adjusting his suit jacket. glancing behind him, talia had caught his eyes-- her gloved fingers wrapping softly around the limousine's door, she offered you a succinct smile, before dipping into the car. "we'll be back before midnight." the man offered finally, slipping away from you and towards his awaiting car.
you nodded, running your tongue idly across your front teeth. glancing towards the manor-- the youngest master stood at the giant oak doors, looking impossibly cross.
"i told them i was in no need of your presence tonight," damian had huffed, barely stepping aside to let you into the manor, "i am taking myself right to my chambers."
"well," you had sighed, toeing off your shoes, "don't let me stop you from getting your beauty sleep."
behind you, the limousine had pulled out of the main driveway for the manor-- down the long, leading twisty road to the gates at the edge of the property. in no mood to wave goodbye to his parents-- damian slammed the two doors shut.
with a subtle roll of his shoulders, damian bid you goodnight, briskly uttering your surname and something like it's nothing personal. the boy turned and went down a long hallway, to the staircase that would lead him to his room; leaving you, once again, alone in the manor's front entrance.
grand paintings of who you identified to be bruce's family (though you could not place who the little freckled boy with thick curls was) decorated the walls, all encased in gold picture frames. a chandelier with at least one hundred candles hung high from the manor's ceiling, casting an imposing shadow down onto the marble floors.
you swallowed, suddenly terribly aware of the five hundred dollars sitting in your jacket pocket.
you could go down to your usual spot in the lounge room; throw on the television, half-heartedly pay attention to a black and white movie-- sip water from a stupidly expensive glass and patiently await talia and bruce's return.
you could.
but something about the glimmer of moonlight through a magnificent window in another room, down another hallway you had not been before practically yanked you away from the lounge before you could make the decision.
feet carrying you faster than your brain could process, guilt briefly clawed at your throat; until you conceded that it would be hours before the couple's return, and something as innocent as a walk could not possibly get you in trouble.
°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °
in your defense, the door had been ajar-- not open all the way, no, but not closed either. it had been terribly easy to slip into the room you had discovered to be a study-- and even easier to trace the bookshelves with your fingertip, and let your eyes dance across all of the valuables bruce wayne had laying about.
an expensive looking oak table lined with a singular, silver laptop and a glass lamp greeted you first. all, appearing pristine in condition as if never used before.
glossy leather upon the desk chair shone idly in the moonlight-- let into the room via large, dazzling windows. and the view, perhaps, was the most stunning thing the room offered. looking outward and towards the manor's front yard-- miles of perfectly manicured grass, hedges, and trees painted the landscape. leaves whispered and brushed in tandem with each other, victims of gotham's late night winds. dew coated the rest of the greenery, offering almost an ethereal shimmer to the scenic picture. if you squinted, you could see the large, black gates on the very edge of the property-- the only entrance and exit to wayne manor-- and the security station that glowed with the faintest traces of life (a hired night guard now on duty per talia and bruce's leave). you turned, finally tearing your vision away from the window; unknowingly missing the flash of a car returning to the manor. using your palm, you gently twisted the desk chair-- which creaked silently underneath the newfound stress of your hand.
your vision floated upwards, to just overhead of the chair; an extensive portrait, painted meticulously and with the utmost care flashed brilliantly underneath its display lights. a man, woman, and a little boy-- though not of the family you had grown fond of. no, this was one of the individuals you had known for a short period of time, but the other two remained distant figureheads unknown to you. the woman had a short black bob and the same blue eyes you had recognized on bruce-- though her smile was more gentle, as if it was a secret she could barely contain. the man, on the other hand, was sharper and more angular; face set almost identically to bruce's. adorned by both in different ways (bruce's father a brooch, his mother a necklace) were pearls.
something about them made your stomach sink-- so you tore your vision away from the painting, and back to the rest of the study.
there were filing cabinets hidden cleverly within the bookshelves that surrounded you, and the odd centerpiece for a coffee table caught your eye-- but after a while of snooping, you boredom overtook your mind-- pushing you towards the exit.
just past the door, the manor had gone quieter in a way you could not place. it wasn't the usual silence, somber and tranquil, broken only by the gentle snores of damian-- no, this was somehow tentative. charged.
on edge. almost as if--
the sound of the front doors opening and closing, partnered with hushed voices caused your neck to whip around.
your snooping had gone on far longer than you had anticipated; the fault of your actions becoming ever so clear and blaring as you stood, tucked away against the manor's wall, in a corridor that you certainly never should have been in in the first place. talia's serene laugh carried down the hallway, followed by a soft, almost out of character rumble from bruce.
as comforting as those sounds had once been-- they only now caused your heart-rate to spike, adrenaline coursing through your veins at speeds you had not felt since being caught red-handed by your parents as a child, doing something you were not supposed to be doing.
pressing your head into the sturdy wall of the manor-- a brief exhale through your nose passed through you, because the irony of the situation had not been lost.
in some sort of odd way, this was terribly akin to being caught by your parents. except now, the stakes were much higher-- as you could not exactly afford to lose the hefty pay-check the wayne al-ghul's offered. could not bear to lose the curious little boy you had grown so fond of, could not bear to lose the fleeting surges of attraction you felt around talia and bruce-- no matter how wrong, tasteless, and downright crude these feelings were.
caught up in your head, you had missed the sudden cease of noise from the couple-- no clicking of dress shoes or heels against the marble floors, no hushed whispers or terribly masked chuckles.
there was silence.
your chest heaved softly, the possibility of bruce and talia potentially traveling to another one of the many rooms within the manor giving you ample opportunity to dash back to the lounge an exciting thought-- before you heard the man clear his throat.
"you can come out now."
if your stomach had not already been in knots, it would have certainly been now. despite the lack of... anger, or frustration in bruce's tone (in fact, he had sounded oddly amused-- like this was a game he was playing, and like he had just won) remorse still scraped at your core.
the few steps of shame out of the corridor and into the manor's main entrance had been even more embarrassing, your shadow trailing behind you a few feet-- as if ashamed to be associated with someone like you.
one of bruce's pronounced brows quirked upwards, beguilement curling around the sharp angles of his face. "you're usually very good at following instructions," he said mildly.
heat raised in your cheeks and-- well, your hands kept folding and refolding in front of you as the husband and wife came into your view. leaning against bruce, the woman slowly peeled her evening coat off; long and black with fur stitched into its sleeves and neckline, it only accentuated her fit figure. she t'sked, though there was little heat behind her words.
"which is why this is so interesting." she mused, folding the coat within her hands. long jade nails caught the minimal light the manor's chandelier offered, as if they were akin to claws.
"i'm sorry," you apologized meekly, "i was just heading back to the lounging room."
bruce and talia shared an intimate laugh-- just under their noses, as if they were in on a joke you were oblivious to. "no need to apologize," bruce stated, "it's not often my study gets visitors anyways."
your throat dried up, shame washing over you once again. "i--"
"hush," talia murmured, effectively cutting you off, "we're not angry, dear. though next time," she took a step forward, heels clicking against the floor, "just ask. bruce and i could never tell you no."
her lips-- plump, matte within a brownish-red shade-- tilted upwards. not quite a smile, but something just as warm; just as inviting.
"we don't mind indulging you." talia added lowly, deliberately.
bruce's gaze lingered-- not improperly nor obviously-- but thoroughly. like you were mystery or puzzle to be solved. methodically.
(seductively.)
"it's friday," bruce said obviously, glancing down at his (offensively expensive) wrist-watch, "and not quite eleven yet. since this is such an... impromptu night, we were hoping you'd join us." he explained, adjusting the collar of his suit jacket.
at your hesitation, because when on earth would bruce wayne and talia al-ghul ever have wanted to spend time with you, talia broke your train of thought.
"we were just about to head to one of our lounges," she explained pointedly, "hopefully not one you've seen before."
heat crawled up your neck. "i wasn't snooping," you tried.
both individuals in front of you laughed again.
perhaps your nerves were the joke.
"we know," bruce consoled.
"it's alright," talia offered, fingers running along the fabric of her coat. "but we're just going to unwind, and we'd love for you to keep us company."
bruce ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, jaw ticking and un-ticking. "wine, whiskey, tea," he offered, in hopes to persuade you.
talia's eyes narrowed, slim like a cat-- preying, almost. "or simply just us," she added.
"whatever you'd prefer."
certainly, you were a lot of things-- but naive enough to remain oblivious to the couple's apparent desire to get you alone? of course not. the idea brought goosebumps to your arms, racing down your entire body. before there had been only delusion feeding your lust-- your pathetic sort of puppy love that chased after the man and woman in front of you. a lingering gaze from bruce on your way out, or maybe a (not-so) innocent touch from talia once your work was done; all feeding these incessant and all-consuming ideas that made you feel like-- perhaps, they were more than just the parents you babysat for. perhaps they thought you were more than just someone who treated their son with the dignity and respect he deserved.
perhaps, they were enticed.
before nightfall had blanketed over gotham's city, it was pitiful and wistful thinking that got you through your day.
but now...
the invitation hung in the air, steady. there truly had been no reason for you to hurry home-- nor did you have plans the following morning.
something curled deliciously, guilty, within your core. you had already run past the confinements of the routine you once practiced within the manor-- why now should you stop? especially with the mr. and mrs. of the household practically begging for you to break the subconscious rules you had set in place for yourself.
the faint scent of talia's perfume and bruce's cologne wafted into your nose and you took an impossibly small step towards them. bruce matched your movements, not coming inappropriately close (yet), but closing enough of a gap to emphasize his size. how sturdy, how solid, how unhurried he truly was.
"if you're offering," you began, "i think i can stay for a drink."
a true grin broke out across talia's face, and she shoved her coat into her lover's chest-- opting to slink her strong arms around your waist, pull you into her frame.
"good," she nodded. you couldn't tell if you were imagining it-- but you could have sworn you felt talia's fingers give your waist a good squeeze. "because it is such a shame every time you're here, bruce and i are absent." she laughed underneath her breath, "it's frustrating, really."
leading you both down another hall-way you had never been before, one you hadn't thought to sneak through, bruce hummed. "such a shame," the man echoed, "but let's make up for lost time now, yeah?"
°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °
the first thing you had noticed in the lounge were the lights. they hadn't been bright-- no, they were dimmed to a provocative sort of yellow, tinged with reds and oranges. placed intentionally in the corners of the room to warm, to entice, to ground-- but never to intrude.
the next thing had been the couch; not as plush as your normal sitting room, nor had it been as formal and sleek as the ones in the hosting rooms-- but it still seemed just as expensive. suede-- dark, grey, longing; you hadn't expected to like it when talia urged you down by your shoulders, her fingers rubbing methodical circles into your back in the process. you hadn't anticipated melting into the fabric, into the crevasses of the chair, as bruce handed you one, and then another, glass of red wine. it was expensive, the type that goes down without so much as a hitch. the type that was dangerous.
you really had not foreseen sinking into the husband and wife-- letting talia run her finger-tips along your collarbone, tracing idle figure-eights near the nape of your neck, and allowing bruce to remain beside you, his big hands massaging and caressing the plush skin of your calves like second nature.
talia draped herself over the back of the couch like a cat-- legs crossed, hands pointed and steady against your skin. you breathed her in like oxygen, gasping and unconsciously becoming dependent on her presence. if you leaned into her close enough, the heat that radiated off her frame in waves clung to you like honey along the skin. "this is my favorite," she spoke quietly, and you assumed she had been gesturing to her wine (though her finger-tips drove deeper into your shoulders). "what do you think, bruce?"
"i think," bruce replied, one of his hands occupied by a glass of whatever expensive and hard liquor he had poured himself, "this one's to be savored, dear."
the ice in his glass clinked. a jarring noise compared to the serenity of the room.
"you and i have such divergent tastes," talia said, clicking her tongue, "but for once, beloved, i agree."
there was a shared silence that let you linger in the space; one that allowed you to cherish the looseness in your limbs, the tingle in your finger-tips. never enough to keep you in a haze of intoxication, but just enough to prove that you could be easy.
easy to hire, easy to know, easy to trust.
easy to fuck.
bruce set his glass down on a sturdy oak coffee table just near the end of the couch. with a clear of his throat, he asked; "are you okay?" his hands found your calves once again, readjusting them purposefully within his lap, his touch ghosting against your skin.
"you're quite tense," talia hummed from behind, "you're allowed to enjoy yourself-- allowed to relax."
tipping your head backwards to address the question, you felt the skin of talia's thigh-- exposed via the slit in her dress-- and shivered. "i'm quite alright," you almost laughed, "i just... didn't expect this."
"oh, sweet girl," talia grinned, "we did." her hands traced a slow, deliberate path now-- never dipping anywhere improper, teasing, but never retreating either.
your thoughts had gone slower, more lucid, more distracting-- and your lips pressed to the rim of your glass idly.
bruce's thumb brushed idly at your ankle, swiping softly. he followed the delicate dip of your bone, grounding in his touch. "you're usually so careful," he hummed, "always polite. always so good."
talia leaned in closer, her breath warm and fanning against your cheekbones. "and tonight you're letting yourself be," she exhaled, "indulgent."
heat swarmed to your cheeks, though not from your intoxication. "i don't mean to be unprofessi--"
"no," bruce interrupted gently, his hold on your leg tightening, "that's not what this is, sweetheart."
at the pet-name, something once dull and barely aflame flickered brilliantly within your gut, blazing to life.
"then what is this?" you asked suddenly, the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence-- though very much short-lived, as impossible levels of humiliation washed over you; heat shooting up your spine.
talia laughed, a breathy sort of thing-- from the back of her throat, syrupy. at the sound, you turned to look at her, taking in her form.
it was odd (though not unwelcomed) to see mrs. al-ghul so... vivid. as if the adrenaline coursing through her veins spurred something within her to life-- something dormant forced open and breathing, it's heart beating erratically with composure. her usual stoicism, politeness-- replaced with an unabashed desire for whatever it was this happened to be.
the concentration on the grand woman now within your line of sight distracted you from the cool, almost jarring sensation of bruce's palm off of your calf.
though quickly-- it was replaced with his hand on your jaw, tilting your head upwards and insisting on your attention. cobalt irises narrowed at you, barely flickering down to your lips, before dancing upwards to your eyes again. his scent was now invading your senses-- vaguely intoxicated from his drink, though mostly enthralling; mint, warm after-shave, the smokey undertones of his cologne.
his breath fanned across your lips, and his fingers clutched almost desperately onto your jaw (like the last bits of restraint bruce wayne had were quickly succumbing to deeper desires)-- tilting you towards him, keeping the tips of your noses brushing. "you want to know what this is?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper; a rumble, perhaps even a groan.
"beloved," talia simpered, fingers running across your shoulder blades.
bruce's eyes briefly darted towards his wife's, before they skimmed back to yours. "answer me."
something unconscious, perhaps carnal within you, made you nod, unthinking. "i do," you stuttered out.
"then kiss her," he instructed, eyes remaining yearningly on the plump fat of your lips, "you want this? prove it. kiss her."
"you don't have to," talia offered, her voice startlingly close to your neck as she spoke; her own lips softly planting themselves near the junction where your throat met your shoulders.
at the tightening of bruce's grip on your jaw, your cunt throbbed. "i want to."
crow's feet appeared near bruce's eyes as he smiled slowly-- mouth tilting into something, though subtle, greedy. "yeah? you want to?"
you nodded, and echoed your words-- enthusiasm bleeding from each syllable that fell from your lips now. "please,"
bruce's fingers uncurled around your jaw momentarily, before slipping away entirely-- only to be replaced by equally as strong, but more slender and feminine digits-- talia pouncing on the opportunity to twist your head and capture your lips; locking them against her own.
she tasted like all-spice doused in cocoa powder-- even the faintest traces of black berry seeping into your senses. you vaguely remember bruce holding out the wine bottle you and talia had both shared; something about the undertones, aromas, final notes.
the stickiness of your lip-gloss clung to her lips as she softly groaned against you-- tongue darting outwards to taste your fattened flesh, before attempting to pry your mouth open.
you obliged, letting her appendage slither into your mouth and wrangle your tongue. nothing about the kiss was chaste or fleeting- talia's mouth moving against yours almost greedily, entirely messy and unbecoming.
beside you, bruce had sat backwards into his couch. one foot across his knee, the ice within his cup rumbled as it clattered against the glass, swirling gently within the expensive liqour he continued to nurse. if it wasn't for this and the subtle drum of his fingertips against his dress pants, you wouldn't have believed he was there. there was no sound to his breathing, not any indication of another individual within the room-- as if he had completely mastered the ability to blend in with the world; remain unseen and silent.
the thought of bruce watching you and talia wordlessly, as if not even there, made your cunt throb.
still tilting your jaw upwards, talia continued to kiss you heavily-- absorbing every inch of you that she could, seemingly attempting to fuse you both where you attached. her fingers coiled around your jaw and throat, squeezing-- holding you impossibly close, your breath quickening and shortening at her action. pulling apart momentarily, you felt her breath fan across your lips-- lashes fluttering softly against the silk of her skin.
"have you thought about this before?" she asked, so low-- you almost missed it.
you swallowed, chasing her lips. "yes," the vibration of her approval simmered against your flesh.
from beside you, the clink of bruce's glass emptying into his mouth carried throughout the room. he whispered, anticipation buzzing beneath his skin. "thought so."
talia grinned into your kiss, the eagerness you were exuding especially entertaining. she tore herself from you, pressing kisses-- messy, wet-- to the corner of your mouth, along your jawline and down your neck. "such a greedy girl," she mused, "go give bruce some attention now; don't you think we've left him out of the fun?"
nodding hazily, your irises remained glued to the now swollen fat of talia's lips-- only her hand guiding you to face the older man.
bruce's tie had been yanked away from his neck, his white shirt unbuttoned at the very top-- defined shoulders and collar-bone on display. his skin glistened underneath the dim lighting from the lamps, and the pale blue of his eyes looked haunting.
he was irritatingly handsome, suit coat long abandoned. your cunt throbbed again, talia's nails scratching at your neck before digging into your skin-- urging you towards her husband.
bruce unfolded his legs, a silent invitation. clambering atop the couch, you found yourself suddenly straddling him-- both of your thighs pressed tightly against his hips, grounding you to bruce's large form.
he cleared his throat, hands immediately snaking their way up your arms and towards your neck. his thumbs swiped idly at the skin beneath your ears as he cupped your jaw. "such a sweet girl," he purred, "i don't think i'm the one that should get the attention tonight."
leaning forward, your jaw went slack ever so slightly as bruce pressed his mouth to your throat-- right to your pulse-point, suckling at your skin sporadically, inhaling you.
you were gasping as his teeth drew across your skin-- biting enough to sting, but never to hurt. soothing over the dips with his tongue, bruce hummed against you.
"mr. wayne--" you tried, palms burning where they rested at his shoulders.
"it's bruce," talia answered, allowing the man to remain attached to your skin. instead of splaying across the top of the couch like before, she had rounded the furniture and planted herself neatly beside the both of you, watching. "i think we're long past formalities."
the shortest beginnings of a chuckle from bruce pulsed at your neck where he was kissing, biting, licking-- pleasure radiating off of both of you in waves.
in a sudden movement-- bruce had flipped you onto your back, your frame connecting with the couch harshly. the man, however, paid little mind to you as his lips continued to dance across your skin, trailing downwards from your jaw and throat to your shoulders and collarbone and sternum.
big palms dipped underneath your shirt, raising it enough for the man to pepper kisses along the curve of your breasts, exposing your skin and raising goosebumps along your body.
talia sucked on her teeth from beside you, before she nudged closer to your frame-- soft skin coming in contact with yours. she hummed approvingly at the sight of her husband lowering and settling himself between your legs-- his fingers now hooking into the waistband of your pants, and slowly peeling them off of your legs.
he hadn't even bothered to remove your panties-- exhaling shortly before pressing his mouth to your cunt, tongue dragging along the fabric.
"oh!" you yelped at the sensation, hips bucking immediately against bruce's face. his hands had slipped to your waist, keeping your bottom half pushed steadily into the couch.
"stay still," he tutted, words mumbled by your dampening panties and pussy.
not to be forgotten-- talia leaned forward to connect her lips to your temple, a silent request for your attention. once your eyes had made contact with her own, through thick and fluffy lashes did she speak, "such a loud girl," she breathed, "but you don't want to wake my beloved boy, do you?"
you shook your head no, legs quivering softly as your thighs clenched around bruce's frame.
"exactly," talia agreed, "so i think i'm going to put that pretty little mouth of yours to work."
manicured nails snuck underneath the strap of her dinner dress-- and slowly, she slipped out of the top half of her outfit. to your surprise, she hadn't been wearing a bra. her light brown nipples peaked underneath the newfound exposure of cold-- before she took the fleshy part of her tit in her hand, and guided it to your mouth.
suckling immediate, your eyes fluttered and shut-- the salty taste of her skin invading your senses. the woman exhaled loudly, one of her hands going to scratch at the nape of your neck. "mhmm," she sighed, contently.
the slightest of flickers from bruce, still busied entirely at your pussy, was made apparent as he reached a hand out to caress his wife's leg-- hand trailing upwards to her inner thigh, before he pulled away and placed his attention back to you.
he groaned into your cunt, dipping underneath the fabric of your now ruined underwear, pulling them aside to get himself flesh to your body. the noises coming from his tongue at your slit, drawing achingly slow circles, were nothing short of vulgar.
your tongue continued to trace talia's nipple, lapping and suckling at the skin-- her gasps and hums of pleasure sending shocks to your pussy. it clenched and sobbed at the noises she emanated, and once bruce stuck a digit past your hole-- your back arched off of the couch, hips tilting into his face.
talia's hands wrapped around the back of your head lovingly-- though she was not gentle as she forced your mouth to remain steady at her tits. "c'mon," the woman encouraged, leaning further and closer into you as if to ease your efforts.
you moaned around her skin-- dutifully switching to the other breast, a trembling hand of yours coming upwards to cup the spit soaked one. beneath you, bruce continued his ministrations, mouth latched onto your clit as he pumped two fingers now, vigorously in and out of you, curling as they bottomed out within your dripping cunt.
the married couple, too, moaned. bruce at the taste of you finally on his tongue, as if he had been waiting-- and talia as you rolled and circled her stiffened nipples within the warm confines of your mouth.
bruce's tongue flattened along the length of your pussy, dragging himself up and down and up again-- before talia's second hand curled into his hair and yanked his head away from your core. the man blinked up at his wife hazily, lower half of his face coated in your slick.
talia hummed deliciously at the sight. "bruce," she exhaled shakily, peeling you off of her breasts, "i'd like to taste her too."
he obliged wordlessly; tugging talia gently down to the ground beside him, you watched carefully, mouth slightly agape, as the two slotted against each other like puzzle pieces. talia's plump lips locked around bruce's, her tongue poking through his own lips and into the chamber within his mouth-- both groaning and gasping and moaning at the actions, taste, sight of all of it.
talia called your name, which came out muffled against her lover's mouth, "you taste brilliant," she praised. breaking the kiss, talia stuck her tongue out to lick bruce's jaw towards his mouth-- savouring the taste of your pussy on his face. "but i think i'd prefer if i got it straight from you, sweet girl."
bruce moved his body ever so slightly to allow talia to take his place-- her hands finding the flesh of your thighs, dragging your hips closer to her face. she peppered kisses along the curve of your waist, letting them trace lower and lower until they met your clit.
she pressed a kiss to the sensitive nerve, smiling slyly, before blowing cold air onto your cunt. "such a pretty girl," she mused, latching herself onto you.
you sighed, content at the feeling of somebody on your aching extremity once again-- your arousal practically leaking out of you in demeaning waves.
from behind the woman, bruce cleared his throat-- steady hands finding the fabric of talia's dress, only to rid the clothing from his wife's frame.
"beloved," he mumbled, leaning forward to paint kisses delicately along the expanse of talia's strong back-- "you'll let me warm up with you, right?"
talia nodded lazily from in between your legs, one of her hands leaving your thighs to peel her own panties-- all she was adorned in by now-- to the side; exposing her to him. "you needn't ask, bruce." she whined into your cunt, her tongue continuing to sloppily trace your clit and dip inside your hole.
gasping, you watched as bruce undid his belt-- an oddly harsh sound against the melody of your shared moans with talia-- and freed himself from both his slacks and boxers.
you hadn't known what you were expecting when you had seen the older man; but something akin to delight shot from your head to the tips of your toes, seeing bruce's exposed cock.
he was thick, heavy within his hands; curved and flushed a pretty shade of pink. pearlescent beads of pre-cum already gathered from his tip, and he sighed longingly as he gave himself a few pumps-- before aligning himself with talia. the woman hummed, pleased, at the feeling of bruce grinding himself against her cunt.
you, too, moaned as if you could feel it-- pussy clenching, yearning for the same type of treatment. desperation was clearly clawing at your senses-- as your hands had even found your own breasts, molding and caressing at the flesh and flicking at the stiffened nipples even beneath the fabric of your bra.
at your actions, you heard bruce chuckle. a deep, erotic sort of sound. "i'll get to you, sweetheart," he promised.
but before you could respond-- before he could say anything else-- bruce pushed himself inside of his wife. inch by inch, you observed as talia's cunt swallowed bruce's cock-- as she gasped against your pussy, as she arched into her husband's touch.
they both moaned in tandem as he bottomed out within her, talia's cunt clenching desperately around bruce's cock. "that's it," he groaned softly. "you take me so well, beautiful, every time."
talia's jaw had gone slack at your pussy-- and for once, you hadn't even minded. not as talia looked so impossibly ravishing as bruce began to thrust in and out of his wife, and as he looked so disgustingly infatuated with talia.
you moaned softly as the sound of skin slapping began to bounce off of the lounge's walls-- filling the space and holding tight the arousal dripping from the corners of the room and bleeding into everything it could touch. waves of heat scorching the surface of everything within the room-- your minds, your bodies, and your souls all included.
slowly but surely, talia had begun to eat you out again-- this time, with a renewed vigor. using one of her forearms to balance herself against your frame, she brought her free hand to your cunt-- using a precarious thumb to roll tight and efficient circles onto your clit. "we want you t-to feel good," she shuddered, eyes fluttering shut momentarily as bruce's cock massaged her g-spot, "can you do that for us?"
nodding dumbly, your hands snuck their way properly now underneath the fabric of your bra-- fingers easily locating and pinching your hardened nipples. you rolled and rolled and rolled-- pleasure washing over your frame like ecstasy. you were gasping, breath stolen from your lungs as talia increased the pressure of her thumb along your clit. her tongue hooked just past the entrance to your cunt-- and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.
bruce's pace was quickening (perhaps desperately) behind talia. he drove himself in and out and in again, balls slapping against his wife's ass as he hissed and cursed quietly under his breath. and suddenly-- as if indulging, as if he was shy but could not stand it any longer-- he raised a hand to spank her. it was harsh and clipped, his palm already leaving a searing mark against the plump fat of talia's rear. she moaned whorishly into your pussy, so out of character for the woman you (thought) you knew-- and her hand only sped up its ministrations. "please," she pleaded, big brown eyes blinking up at you, glassed over with watery tears of pleasure, "need you to cum, pretty girl. i need you to finish all over my face before i let bruce have his way with you,"
her words sent your gut fluttering-- your pussy clenching and strangling talia's tongue, soaking and dripping downwards onto her jaw. "don't stop," you gasped, heat pooling delightfully within your core.
"she won't," bruce huffed, cock pulsing within his wife.
talia nodded, keeping riiight where you needed her most-- though you could have sworn the strong woman rolled her eyes at her husband's commentary, ever so slightly, even as he remained buried deep inside her cunt.
your orgasm crept up on you, barely allowing you the gift of time to register the prickling of goosebumps along your skin; the shivers coursing through your body, the twitch and thrash of your legs and hips-- until your pussy was spasming and drooling all along the older woman's face. talia remained steady in her motions-- nursing you through your orgasm as if she was still trying to bring one forth and unto you.
bruce had stilled his movements, only inside his wife now by his tip-- and he watched intently as you continued to cum aggressively. big palms ran across talia's back, as if he could soothe you through your orgasm by stroking talia.
you shook until your body had gone slack from pleasure. vaguely, you thought-- when the fuck was the last time i came that hard?
"was that good?" bruce questioned, voice low and rumbled. he was now fully out of his wife-- his cock looking almost painfully hard as it glistened with talia's slick.
"m-mhm," you croaked out, chest still heaving and legs still twitching intermittently.
talia sat back and onto her knees, delicately wiping your cum off of her face with the back of her hand. "well, i'd hope so."
bruce let his fingers dance along talia's spine, up to the nape of her neck-- before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his wife's lips. he savoured the taste of both of you on his mouth, faint traces of wine seeping into the edges of his senses-- before he pulled away and dedicated himself to you.
bruce wayne crawling towards you was not a sight you had ever expected to see-- but one that was most certainly not unwelcomed. he positioned himself in between your legs once again, though you watched his biceps curl underneath the fabric of his dress shirt as he pulled you flush to his hips. "good thing i get to have my turn now," he whispered against the shell of your ear, "because i want you to cum that hard again-- just on my cock instead."
you shivered. full body, electric. your cunt was practically already oozing all over bruce's lower abdomen, his v-line taut and pronounced against the softer flesh of your thighs and core. his lips secured themselves to your jaw and neck, dusting kisses across your skin in a terribly gentle form of foreplay. below, his hips rocked steadily-- for now he was grinding himself against you as he had done talia earlier.
a hiss escaped your mouth as the tip of his dick caught on your clit; bruce took this as encouragement, and reached in between your sweat slicked bodies to wrap his hand around his extremity and slap it against your pussy.
"do you think you can take him, pretty girl?" talia cooed, suddenly beside you. she had slipped back onto the couch, body heat radiating onto your frame as she slinked closer to you-- no different than before except for the fact now that she was entirely bare. her body shimmered underneath the ambient lighting of the lounge, her curves and muscles and beauty marks ever so prominent in such a rousing environment.
you opened your mouth to speak, only to be caught off as bruce pressed into you. your jaw went slack, the feeling of his cock beginning to stretch your cunt out ever consuming. the veins along his dick pushed against your insides, carving themselves into your body-- molding yourself to bruce in ways, although fleeting, purposely permanent.
talia laughed, soft and delicate. one of her hands found its way to your scalp, scratching and soothing as she murmured against your head, "i know," she crooned, "isn't he just so fucking big?"
bruce was pulsing into you slower than he had done his wife-- empathetic of the fact that this was the first time you were taking someone of his size. still, it was a slow and torturous dance with too much and not enough; the words in your brain blurring into a pathetic mesh of moans.
you tried to agree, you really did, but all you could do was exhale shakily. talia snickered again from behind you, though of course there was no malice in her amusement. your grip on what now, you realized was her wrist (along with bruce's hand that rested on your hip) was iron.
"doing so good," bruce praised, brows furrowing as he buried himself deeper within you, "such a perfect girl."
the praise shot to your cunt, and you felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock.
talia continued to rub soothing circles into your scalp, her mouth pressing breathy kisses to your hairline softly-- all the while she muttered praises of her own, agreement that bruce was bigger and better than anyone else; sympathy because weren't you just their poor girl? you've been needing this for such a long time, haven't you? such a shame we didn't get to have you sooner.
"but it's alright," bruce gasped softly, bottoming out within your aching pussy, "because we get to have and take care of you now."
your pretty irises rolled into your skull for the upteenth time that night as you felt bruce begin to move. he drove himself out of you slowly, at first-- as if he had some sort of restraint he had to adhere to-- but the second you moaned and whined and bucked your hips, pleading, "please, bruce, please fuck me," the man hadn't stood a chance.
his lower stomach repeatedly ground into your clit every time he was sheathed within you fully; the friction making your toes curl and back arch away from the couch. talia would sigh, would coo, would kiss at you absentmindedly-- drawing your attention away from bruce momentarily, because shouldn't she have some fun too?
in the heat of it-- with your legs clenched tightly around bruce's hips and his cock throbbing inside of you-- talia snaked her hand down your stomach and towards your clit, rolling just as she had before.
the combination of bruce's cock kissing and massaging your g-spot and talia's fingers at your clit was almost too much. pleasure and euphoria was beginning to blind you, and your legs quivered around bruce's frame in a fair warning of your second orgasm.
bruce, ever in touch with your body, gripped one of your calves tightly-- only to raise it, and bring your leg to his shoulder. he turned his head softly, black locks clinging to his dampened forehead, to press a kiss to your ankle bone. the new position had him deeper than you had thought was possible, and your entire body thrashed from underneath the married couple.
"don't cum yet," bruce spoke jaggedly, "i know you're close, sweetheart, but i know you can wait for me."
talia nodded from above you, fingers still abusing your clit. "we know you can," she echoed, "you've shown a history of being good at listening-- hasn't she, beloved?"
bruce nodded towards his wife, adam's apple bobbing as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. "she has," he exhaled, "such a good girl for us."
your bottom lip was surely bitten raw-- for you had had it caught in between your teeth to stifle your moans, stifle your pleasure, hold off your orgasm because of course you would listen to bruce and talia.
but it was getting difficult-- your pussy was beginning to spasm with the first waves of your orgasm that you could not suppress, and the sweetest of mewls were falling from your lips. so much so, talia took pity on you-- and pressed her lips to yours.
you moaned and hummed freely against the kiss, savoring the taste of you and her within her mouth. she, too, groaned softly at the contact-- her circles at your cunt going slack for a moment, only to pick back up in pace.
bruce's pace as well, quickened. the repetitive motion of him thrusting in and out and in again, entirely too thick and yet not enough was making both of you insatiable. "fuck," he groaned-- and your cunt pulsed, because bruce wayne swearing was far too fucking attractive for you to handle.
"i want to cum," you begged suddenly, words tumbling out of your mouth, into talia's and the air around you all, "please. i- i've been so good, please,"
never had you ever considered begging for anyone else like this-- the act much too humiliating to consider when fucking just anyone else.
but this wasn't just anyone else. they weren't just random people you had decided to hook up with.
bruce groaned incoherently as he moved his head again to bury his mouth and nose against your ankle-- teeth suddenly digging into the flesh of your calf to muffle moans (moans! your cunt had bruce wayne moaning like a pornstar!) as his cock jumped inside of you.
again and again and again-- did his tip find and make love to your g-spot.
this was bruce wayne and talia al-ghul you were fucking. of course you were going to beg.
"please," the plead fell from your mouth in a broken, sob.
"i love it when you beg," talia mused, her breath fanning across your lips, "sound like such a good girl."
she swallowed, and through teary eyes did you watch her throat bob softly. her fingers-- two, now-- rolled and circled your clit incessantly, different than before. they fucked you now with a purpose. to draw something very intentional out of you.
bruce was fucking you like that too-- intentional. his tongue darted outwards to taste the salt of your calf to your ankle, and his voice vibrated tantalizingly against your skin. "i'm going to cum," he announced, shuddering, "and i want you to cum now too, a-alright?"
the announcement of his own orgasm coupled with talia's intense movements was more than enough to make your cunt flutter once, then twice-- then uncontrollably and terribly powerfully as your orgasm knocked the wind from your lungs.
your nails were piercing subtle moons into talia's wrist where your hand still remained; the same thing happening to bruce's arm where your grip on him was also just as tight.
you couldn't think of anything logically-- not with your cunt fluttering hopelessly around bruce's cock, not with talia scratching at your scalp gently and peppering kisses along the fat of your face and along your jaw.
not with bruce's dick suddenly spilling pump after pump of cum into you-- his cock pulsing repeatedly within your weeping pussy. the man was gritting his teeth, still moaning into your skin, grip entirely too tight along your waist where he still continued to drag you onto his appendage.
"bruce--!" you gasped, thighs quaking as his thrusts grew unrelenting.
"i know," he breathed, icy irises squinting down at where you both still remained connected, "need to fuck it all out, make sure all of my cum gets inside of you."
talia giggled along your skin, licking a stripe upwards from your chin to your mouth. "such a demanding man," she cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, "my beloved can get so greedy once he sets his eyes on something he wants."
from above, bruce spoke-- voice harsh as the remainders of pleasure bled from each syllable. "you say that like you aren't a persistent woman, my dear,"
"well of course i am," talia whispered, hand leaving your hand to press against bruce's stomach-- effectively getting the man to pull out of your sopping cunt.
all three of you watched as bruce's cum began to ooze out of you-- a thick load, mixed with your own arousal and cum. dark lashes beat against talia's cheek as she got up from the couch and took bruce's position in between your legs; even taking one of your legs up and onto her shoulder, offering a gentle kiss to your ankle like her husband had.
bruce himself didn't move very far-- as he was still close enough to plant a kiss to talia's hairline. the woman leaned into his touch, a thousand unspoken words travelling between them, until their shared gaze fell upon you once again.
talia cleared her throat, hooking one leg over your hip-- allowing both of your pussies now to only be a few inches apart. she lowered herself down, and it was impossibly lewd-- the way bruce's cum clung to her cunt as it trickled out of you. her voice was low, seductive-- the same tone you had grown used to hearing as gotham's moon hung high above the sky.
"because now it's my turn to fuck you properly, isn't it?"
Note: repost/revision of an ask/request that I answered. I didn't really like the previous format and I decided to add A LOT more to it. enjoy some good old yan!chrollo :)
Yandere Chrollo? Oh, it's certainly possible. I mean, anything’s possible with writing. But if we’re talking about the actual possibility of that happening? Like the odds of him going/being all yandere on/for someone? I’d say slim to none. Sorry. He’s honestly like one of the last characters I’d ever expect to be a yandere or even act yandere in any traditional sense.
Chrollo’s not your typical yandere. Like, at all. He wouldn’t look like one, wouldn’t act like one, wouldn’t feel like one—not visually, not behaviourally, not emotionally. Not in any traditional sense, that is. He’s basically the exact opposite of how yandere characters are usually portrayed. Nothing you’d normally expect or associated with that genre of character. No obvious obsession, no blatant possessiveness, no impulsive violence, no dramatic displays, no grand gestures, and definitely no cringy ‘you’re mine’ declarations.
That kind of stuff just doesn't fit my interpretation of Chrollo as a yandere, to be honest.
He doesn’t fit the stereotypical yandere mold. It’s just not realistic or accurate, at least not without heavily adjusting his canon character to make it even slightly fit the archetype. The literal definition of yandere—and all the usual traits that come with that label—pretty much contradicts everything established about him. Like, the man recites scripture and barely emotes, he’s basically a void dressed in a turtleneck. So do you really think he’d breakdown just because someone breathed in your direction? Absolutely fucking not. He’s not built for that kind of shit lol.
Realistically? It’d just seem like… Chrollo being Chrollo. His usual self. The same unreadable, soft-spoken, disgustingly poetic nightmare he always is. It wouldn’t be an instant, all-consuming fixation/obsession for a character like Chrollo. It’s not love at first sight or anything like that—he’d never even call it love, not in any traditional sense. Probably wouldn’t even say want or need, either. And it's not something that would completely overtake and dictate his life, either.
Instead, it’d be subtle and slow. Nothing overt. It wouldn’t even register as anything unusual right away—just a passing interest or mere curiosity. A reason to keep watching you, learning you, rearranging your life without you noticing.
He'd start by watching you, learning you, inserting himself into your life so naturally you don't even question it.
Before he ever even spoke to you, he watched. He’d sit in his car across the street or at a table in the corner of a cafe, and he would just… watch. Observe. Study. Learn. He memorized the way you chewed on your lip when you were concentrating, the specific rhythm of your breathing when you slept, the way your brow furrowed when you read something that troubled you.
He saw the cracks in your life long before you did. The coworker who was secretly undermining you, the lover who was growing distant, the family obligations that wore you down to a raw nerve. He saw every vulnerability, every weakness, every tiny fracture in your world. And he didn’t see them with sympathy or anything so mundane like that. Nothing so human. He saw them as entry points. He made a mental list of them with the same detached curiosity he would with a Nen ability.
To him, you weren’t a woman he desired. Not in the normal sense, anyway. He did want you, no doubt about that. You were a complex, beautiful, and flawed system that he was going to tear down and rebuild in his own image.
Maybe he ‘bumps into’ you a few times too many, but always with some perfectly reasonable excuse like he just happens to be nearby. He makes it sound casual, like coincidence. Maybe he quotes something from a book you love but never told him about, making it seem like you have similar interests. Maybe he knows things about your life you never told him, but he brushes it off with that soft smile, like it’s no big deal. It's not creepy—it's charming.
It’s raining—sheets of water blur the windows, creating tiny rivers that streak down the glass in messy rivulets. It’s one of those afternoons where everything feels washed out, where the outside world looks like a watercolour smear—all muted greys and dark silhouettes of slick streets, faintly lit by streetlights glowing through the haze. People huddle under umbrellas, their feet splashing in shallow puddles as they hurry along.
You’re at your usual spot in the back of a quaint little café in Yorknew City, tucked away in a corner booth, secluded from prying eyes and the bustle of others. A cup of coffee you’ve been nursing for the past hour sits in front of you, long gone cold, while you scroll aimlessly through your phone to pass the time.
The bell over the door jingles softly, barely audible over the steady patter of rain against the café windows, the low hum of voices, the muffled clatter of cups and saucers, and the occasional hiss of the coffee maker steaming milk. But somehow, the sound is enough to catch your attention.
You glance up, and there he is. The handsome, polite man you first met weeks ago, right here in this very café. Back then, he had approached you and struck up a conversation about the book you were reading. It was Dante’s Inferno. A work that, of course, he claimed to have already read. He’d also casually—and maybe a little too conveniently—mentioned it was one of his favourites. Naturally, he seemed curious about the person who was sitting all alone, spending their free time trying to decipher 14th century poetry.
Since that initial encounter, the two of you keep running into each other. Coincidence, you tell yourself.
Chrollo steps inside with the kind of urgency that only someone unexpectedly caught in a torrential downpour could pull off. Soaked through, slightly breathless, and mildly inconvenienced. Giving the impression that he ‘just happened’ to duck into the nearest shop for shelter, ‘just happened’ to be in the same neighborhood as you.
Shaking the water from his jacket and running a hand through his damp hair, he lets out a sharp huff of air, his mouth tightening into a grimace that twists briefly across his face.
To anyone watching, it all seems inconsequential—minor, trivial, completely ordinary. His actions appear natural, logical, even predictable. Just the normal, expected behaviour of a seemingly unlucky man, drenched to the bone and trying to escape the storm. Nothing more.
But it’s really not. With Chrollo, it’s all a performance. Everything is deliberate and manufactured. Designed and orchestrated. His movements, his gestures, his emotions, his words, his expressions—each one carefully planned, crafted, and conveyed with just enough authenticity to make it all seem believable and real.
His usual soft-spoken, detached, and unnervingly controlled demeanour slips just a tad. Though, the word ‘usual’ might not be the best choice when describing Chrollo’s demeanour—because there’s nothing typical about it, really. He’s capable of transforming himself into almost anything he chooses, at any given time. Like putting on a mask or slipping into a role. His demeanour depends entirely on what he chooses it to be—what kind of performance he decides to give, what the situation demands of him, what suits his needs, and what serves his goals best.
Chrollo lets his gaze sweep the shop briefly, as though searching for a place to sit, as though he hasn’t already spotted you. His hesitation is perfectly timed—just enough to make it seem like he’s debating whether approaching you would be intrusive. Then his eyes meet yours across the sea of customers, and his expression softens slightly. Intentionally, of course. A flicker of recognition, carefully and purposely designed to appear genuine.
He slowly makes his way over to you, his soaked boots making faint squeaks against the tiled floor. He stops at your table, ignoring the fact that he’s tracking water onto the floor.
“Ah,” he starts, his tone soft but confident. Like this moment was inevitable. “I thought I might run into you here.” His smile barely shifts when he adds, “though I can’t say I planned on doing so in quite this state.” His voice carries a hint of dry, self-depreciating humour as he gestures vaguely at the water dripping from his coat, brushing a strand of damp hair away from his forehead.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he continues, tilting his head slightly to study your face. “But judging by the look of your coffee…” He trails off, his voice dipping into just the faintest bit of teasing.
You glance down at the cold, untouched drink sitting in front of you, and his smile widens ever so slightly.
Without waiting for an invitation, Chrollo motions toward the seat across from you. “Do you mind?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for a response before lowering himself and sliding into the booth. He already knows you’ll say yes. As he settles in, he removes his damp jacket, folding it neatly and setting it aside.
He’d make it all feel natural, like fate or whatever other bullshit he spins.
You’re in a bookstore you’ve only been to twice, tucked away in a part of the city you rarely visit. It’s your secret spot. The air smells like dust and decaying paper, and it’s quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat. As you reach for a worn copy of a book you’ve been hunting for ages, another hand brushes yours. You flinch back, startled, and your eyes meet his. Chrollo. Of course, it’s him. He offers you that soft, annoyingly calm smile.
“My apologies,” he says, his voice a low murmur that feels too intimate for the space between you. “I didn’t see you there.”
It’s the third time this month. A coffee shop, a gallery opening, and now here. Your stomach twists with a feeling you can't name—not quite fear, but something very close to it.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice tighter than you intended. If this is actually just all an odd coincidence, the last thing you want to do is come across as a bitch.
Chrollo gestures vaguely to the shelves, his gaze unreadable. “Just browsing. It’s funny, isn’t it? How we seem to be drawn to the same places.” He doesn’t mention the book in your hand, the one you were talking about with a friend just last week over the phone. He doesn’t have to. He just looks at you, a flicker of something in his eyes before it’s gone, replaced by that placid charm.
“It must be fate,” he adds with a light laugh, and the word hangs in the air, feeling less like a sweet sentiment and more like a fucking death sentence.
He wouldn’t kidnap you outright. That’s way too crude and not his style. Also, taking you by force risks traumatizing you, something he’d prefer avoiding all together because it would only make things more complicated for him. Instead, he’d orchestrate your isolation and pick apart your entire support system. He’d make sure your life outside him feels… empty and pointless. Friends and family start to drift away? Oh, they probably just got busy. Opportunities dry up? Must be bad luck or something. Work becomes too much? Maybe it's time to quit. Plans fall apart? Wasn’t meant to be. But hey, guess who’s always there for you?
He’d make himself indispensable. He’d be your confidant, your only constant, the one who always knows what you need before you even ask. And before you know it, there’s nothing left and you’re turning to him.
You sit on the park bench, the autumn leaves crunching underfoot, but the chill in the air matches the one in your chest. Tears of frustration sting your eyes. Your friends just cancelled on you. Again. It’s the fifth time in two months, always delivered with some last-minute excuses that feel fake and insincere. Your messages are full of vague, half-assed apologies that sound more like excuses than anything else. It feels like everyone in your life is slowly pulling away.
And then he’s there. Approaching with a warm smile that falters the second he sees your expression. You’re so used to unexpectedly running into him by now you don’t even question it.
Chrollo sits beside you—not too close, never too close—and waits for you to speak first. He doesn’t need to push or pry for answers. He knows you’ll open up to him sooner or later. It’s inevitable. Only a matter of time. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong because he already knows what’s wrong.
He listens with that goddamn patient focus of his as you finally spill everything—the cancellations, loneliness, the anger, the feelings of abandonment and rejection.
When you’re done, he just hums. “People can be unreliable,” he says softly. His arm slides behind you, coming up to rest on the back of the bench. While his hand comes to rest on your knee, his thumb stroking in slow, soothing circles.
“They will always, eventually disappoint you.” He’s not telling you to cut your friends off. He’s smarter than that. He’s validating every ugly, selfish thought in your head. He’s making your isolation seem like growth, making your world feel smaller.
He leans in closer. “But I won’t.”
And it wouldn’t happen with just anyone, either. Chrollo doesn’t feel things easily. He’s emotionally detached by default, and rarely—if ever—expresses himself openly. But there are exceptions. The Troupe and its members, for example—those are among the few things he truly cares about, and typically always prioritizes above everything else. People love to call Chrollo emotionless, and sometimes characterize him as completely devoid of emotion and feeling—and hey, before anyone gets mad, I’m not judging. To each their own. Everyone is entitled to their own interpretation.
But personally? That’s not how I see him. He’s not emotionless, and he’s definitely not clueless when it comes to feelings. He’s 1000% capable of feeling deeply and genuinely, and honestly? I think he understands emotion better than most. He just doesn’t express it in conventional ways. I’d actually argue he’s probably one of the most emotionally intelligent characters in Hunter x Hunter.
Anywaysss. I’m getting a little off track here, sorry lol. As I was saying, Chrollo wouldn’t develop that kind of fixation for just anyone. He doesn't do random obsessions. He’s too wrapped up in his own existential bullshit to fixate like that. He's not the type to spot someone cute in a crowd and suddenly go full yandere mode.
It would take someone incredibly specific. Someone who fascinates him in a way he can’t quite articulate or understand, someone who intrigues him on a level that’s intellectual at first, someone who lingers in his thoughts even long after they’re gone, someone who makes him feel something rare, like genuine curiosity/interest. You’d be an idea to him before you’re ever a person.
Even then, it would take time. A lot of time. Like, we're talking months, maybe years, before that interest morphs into something that even vaguely resembles yandere-level obsessiveness. Chrollo wouldn’t just wake up one day and imprint on some random person. It would be a painfully long and slow process.
contains: casual to professional, secret relationship, established relationship, nonchalant! chrollo, subtle possessiveness, idk how to tag this tbh
A/N: heol... hope you like it>-< sorry for taking so long...
requested by 🍀 anon !!
the hideout was drafty, the air smelling of dust and old concrete, but the phantom troupe was used to it. chrollo was standing a few feet away, deep in a hushed, serious conversation with shizuku about their next move in yorknew. his back was turned to the rest of you, his long coat sweeping the floor as he gestured toward a map.
meanwhile, the rest of the spiders were bored.
"this is taking too long" uvo grunted, cracked his knuckles. "i need to hit something."
"let's play a game" pakunoda suggested, leaning against a pillar with a rare, amused glint in her eyes. "put a finger down. it’ll pass the time."
you were sitting on a crate, half-listening to chrollo’s low, melodic voice and half-watching feitan and phinks argue over who had to keep watch. you raised your hand along with the others, your mind drifting.
it started out harmlessly.
"put a finger down if you’ve ever killed someone for a piece of jewelry" machi said flatly. everyone's finger went down.
"put down if you been to meteor city" feitan muttered. another finger down.
you were barely paying attention, eyes fixed on the back of chrollo’s head, admiring the way his hair fell over his collar, when hisoka’s voice cut through the air like a deck of cards.
"put a finger down..." hisoka started, his voice dripping with that signature, mocking theatricality "...if you've ever fucked your boss before."
the circle went silent. shalnark let out a choked-out laugh, and even uvo looked surprised. you stiffened, your heart jumping into your throat as your gaze snapped to hisoka. he was looking right at you, his golden eyes narrowed into a smug, knowing smirk. he knew. of course he knew.
you froze, your finger still stubbornly held up in the air. you couldn't put it down—that would be an admission in front of the entire troupe. but keeping it up felt like a lie that hisoka was ready to tear apart.
just as you were about to stammer out a deflection, you felt a presence behind you.
chrollo didn't stop talking to shizuku. he didn't even pause his sentence.
"...and once the auction begins, shizuku, you'll handle the southern exit while franklin covers the—"
as he walked past you, his hand reached out with casual, terrifying precision. his thumb and forefinger caught yours, firmly but gently folding your finger down into your palm. he didn't look at you. he didn't look at hisoka. he just kept walking, his voice never wavering as he continued his instructions.
"—while franklin covers the main hall. make sure the vacuum is ready."
he moved out of the circle as if nothing had happened, leaving you sitting there with your hand closed into a fist and your face burning a bright, frantic red.
hisoka let out a low, delighted chuckle, leaning back against the wall. the rest of the troupe was silent, looking between the back of their leader and your blushing face.
chrollo had just claimed you in front of everyone without even breaking his stride.
"well, It seems we have a loser." Hisoka added, the mischievous smile on his face wide.
Summary: Deciding to cut your hair when a whole crew was obsessed with it, turned out to be rather difficult-
On Ao3 here!
(A/N: @raspberryspritz DECIDED TO CUT HER HAIR. I'M THRASHING THE SHEETS AND KICKING THE AIR. HER GORGEOUS LOCKS. I'M SOBBING. SOMEBODY SEDATE ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭 IT'S ALL GONEEEE 💔💔💔💔)
(another A/N: This literally crack at its finest, don't take it seriously, I'm also incredibly late for his birthday but i do have a fic that's almost done.)
hope you enjoy... *sniff*
Having had curly hair all your life, you were sick of it… It was hard to maintain, style, and live normally with all the frizz that just accumulated!!! But to tell the truth, trying to cut your hair on a ship where you’re the only woman was borderline impossible– Considering only Benn Beckman actually had the proper tools to properly cut hair, and you were sure as hell they were more expensive than a liver.
You also couldn’t just go to a salon without telling your partner… You just felt like it would be lying to do it behind his back– Because Shanks adored your hair!!! So much so that the man is usually the bigger spoon so he could memorize the scents of your products to compliment you if you ever used a different one! The man was smitten!
Every time you straightened it he would pout– he loved the bounce that came with the curly hair! It was just so cute on you! And god did it do things to him everytime– Everyone basically resorted to asking you to ask the captain because they knew he couldn’t say no when you bat your eyelashes and let your hair fall on his face.
But these past few days your hair has been more of an annoyance than anything, especially when it comes to fights! (Admittedly it did make you look much more elegant but then again– Your survival was much more important) And so… You decided that the logical move would be to chop off your hair!
—
You gathered up all of your courage and peaked inside of the infirmary to see Hongo organizing the medicine and writing down notes as usual. He knew that for you to be here on your own accord meant that you definitely wanted.. Something…
“What?” He glared at you, but it didn’t have any bite.
“I need to cut my hair.” You asserted.
“And…?”
“I want you to cut it!”
“Do you want the captain to kill me, you, or both of us simultaneously?” Hongo turned around slowly to face you.
“Oh c’mon don’t be dramatic! It’s just a snip!”
“And that inch of hair is also the difference in the captain’s mood for the day. Not doing it.”
You sighed… You gauged out who else you could ask, Yasopp?
“I will cry if you cut your hair.” The sniper stated blankly- why was your hair so popular!?
Lucky roux is probably in the kitchen cooking… So you immediately ran to him, the scent of the cooking hit your nose and made you a bit nostalgic.
“Lucky! Could you cut my hair for me!?” You jumped up as he was finishing the food.
You could have sworn the man had a heart attack just from the suggestion–
“But it’s so pretty!” He argued.
“It’s still gonna be pretty cut!?” You fought back.
Suddenly Lucky roux began cutting onions to mask his sobbing tears at the mere idea of your hair getting shorter.
Why is this crew insane!?
The most logical next answer was Beckman but you were honestly afraid he’d chew your head off… But it should be worth it if he agrees!!!
He was steering the ship to the right direction when you found him, and you didn’t bother hiding your presence, you already knew he could sense you and the captain from a mile away.
“Whatcha up to?” He asked after taking the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand.
“I need a tiny favour.” You grinned innocently.
“From me? Hit me with it, I’m sure I can make the captain girl’s want a reality” He pinched your cheek playfully before putting the cigarette back in his mouth.
“I need a haircut, desperately.” You put huge emphasis on the last word.
Beckman pondered the request… He knew the consequences would be huge… especially regarding Shanks.
“Didn’t you ask the boss before and he spent the week crying in the bedroom?”
“Ok you don’t need to remind me of that!”You hissed with a red face, you really felt bad doing this but it had to be done! “Shanks won’t harm you, you’re his right hand man! And you’re the only clean one on this ship that I trust with my hair– So pleaseeee?” You were borderline begging but you couldn’t care less.
“Ok.” He started.
“Yes! Thank y-”
“But I didn’t cut your hair, and this conversation didn’t happen.”
“Deal!”
—
You woke up on the day that you chose for Beck to cut your hair as usual next to Shanks, but very obviously you were a little bit more enthusiastic than usual.
“What’s making my girl so happy in the morning?” Shanks threw his arm over you as he asked.
“Nothing!” You giggled even more, very obviously not nothing but you couldn’t tell him now.
“Alright.. Whatever my adorable girl says.” He tightened his arm around you before dozing off to sleep again… typical Shanks.
Thankfully his first meeting of the day was with Beckman and he ended it pretty quickly before ordering for the rest of the crew to come so that they can discuss the new plan for the closest island. Beckman found you waiting ever so patiently in the bathroom with your hair pristinely washed and ready for the cut.
“Ok, again, you know the captain would be pissed off.”
“It’s just a few inches! Just hurry up and do it!” You pouted at the right hand man.
“Alright ma’am.” Beckman’s hands were surprisingly skilled and rather quick, it barely took an hour before your hair was cut perfectly to the length you wished for and it was even more defined.
You jumped at the man with joy at the simpe haircut–
“Alright alright- you’re welcome! Get off before I get thrown off!” Beckman yelled at you.
You were already ecstatic and you jumped outside already getting hit with a wave of compliments from the newer members of the crew, and a whole bunch of headpats that made you squeal– well there was still the matter of Shanks– You remembered that a little too late–
He should be in his office…
So you peaked your head inside.
“Oh hey sweetheart!” Shanks beamed and signalled for you to come over.
Ok.. time to rip the bandaid off–
You took a step inside– and Shanks was immediately on the floor.
“Shanks…?”
You heard him sniffling–
“Ok come on–” Your shoulder was suddenly being shaken aggressively–
”You cut your hair! Who’s the monster that dared!? Shanks yelled at you.
“Um! I did it myself!” You lied through your teeth–
“My girl’s pretty hair! Oh my heart!” Shanks bent over the desk while banging on it in defeat.
“I didn’t go bald!? Hello!?”
You were amazed at how stupid (more like silly) this whole crew was–
The older members of the crew came in and you could swear it was like they all saw a ghost!
Yasopp was banging his head against the wall– Lucky was passing around booze while crying- and Hongo was debating how to give himself a dose of poison without dying– All while the captain himself was sliding to the floor looking more defeated than ever.
Beck decided to throw his head inside to watch the chaos...
"I told you." He whispered with a laugh. "Boss! You've got people waiting!" He yelled at Shanks.
"I'm depressed, let me be." Shanks sniffled into his coat.
"Oh for god!" Ben grabbed Shanks by the collar and threw him outside as if he was a street cat.
"And you all will follow soon!" He threatened them before they were already out.
"They'll get used to it" He reassured you and you trusted him...
----
Thankfully that was the case, Shanks did love your new hair, he was just overly dramatic.
"What do you think I cut it a little shorter-"
"I WILL lock you in the basement."
"Just kidding..." You giggled.
Oh well, you were glad to know he would love you anyways no matter what you do behind his back.
[ The Leader of the World has chosen you among the rubble to become their possession and eternal obsession. -> Manga Spoilers for Chapter 1179! ]
👁️| Your fate was sealed the moment the holy knights attacked your village. These cruel nobels burned your houses to ashes and left no one alive — except for a few poor souls who were thrown into cages and loaded up on their ships. Including you.
Inside those cages you huddled up to the other prisoners for warmth and a sliver of comfort. It was the only way to survive the starvation and rough sea shaking the ship around. Quietly, you all prayed together for a miracle to happen. Hoping for salvation that would never come, because no one knew you had been taken. There would be no rescue.
Upon your arrival in the Holy Land, you were separated from the rest of the people. You were washed and dressed in simple, but clean garments. These robes did not belong to a slave, that much was clear. But what purpose were you meant to serve to the Celestial Dragons if not hard labor? The question left you shivering.
👁️| On the next day you received your answer.
Two knights dressed in tall boots and black uniforms lead you through the gates of Pangea Castle. Once you had stepped inside, the red-haired man blindfolded you so you didn’t see the endless corridors you wandered through. How ridiculous, you wouldn’t have been able to remember the path even if they had allowed you to keep your sight.
After an eternity of struggling not to trip over the long, white robe you were forced to wear, the air around you shifted and you felt like you could breathe again for the first time since you were captured.
The man behind you slowly untied the blindfold, when the cloth slipped from your face and you saw the enormous garden sprawling out before your eyes, your breath hitched.
You were sure you hadn’t stepped outside and yet, the sunlight shining through the glassless windows and the gentle breeze letting the flowers dance between luscious grass tricked into believing you were back on your home island. Your time to marvel at the room was short lived, one of the knights hit your spine with the hilt of his blade to get you to move quicker.
Your feet moved slowly, as if your ankles were bound by heavy chains. To fear for your life when surrounded by such a beautiful scenery was otherworldly and strange. Death was supposed to be grim and dark, this was no place to bleed out and wither away.
A figure appeared. It stepped out from the shadows of the pillars holding up the impossibly high ceiling. At first, it was only a shape with a large crown on top of it. Then the mysterious being walked into the light and shed its skin- it was a terrifying sight. It tore the shadow from its body and left it lying on the ground.
"Great One," the red-haired knight spoke and knelt.
"We have brought you an offering," the other knight said and got onto his knees.
It was strange to see these nobles bow to anyone. Who was the one emerging from the shadows? A strong pull on your wrist forced you to kneel with them.
"Excellent," the figure spoke, its voice echoing through the entire room and leaving your entire body shaking. "Now leave, mu will claim them on thy own."
You kept your gaze fixated on the dirt beneath you, too scared to look up and meet the crimson eyes of the one who commanded these demons. The knights bowed deeper before they stood up and left, without them at your sides you felt a lot less safe. Not that you ever were, all humans were insects in their eyes.
"Mortal, look at mu," the creature ordered and you obeyed, clutching your chest as your heart threatened to burst out from your rib cage.
Oh.
👁️| The Great One stood before you, towering above you with his height. His skin was dark and decorated with white markings reaching from his face down to his abdomen, the rest of them were obstructed by his pants ( you hoped he hadn’t noticed you staring ). White hair cascaded over his shoulder and down his back, one eye covered. A pair of horns crowned his head. A long, black tail with a sharp tip whipped around in the air before curling around your neck like a noose. Sharp teeth greeted you as the demon king opened his mouth again.
"Does the sight of mu scare thee?" He asked with a threatening growl.
"Y- yes," you admitted, your voice more akin to a squeak.
Then something unexpected happened. The demon laughed.
"That is to be expected," Imu replied and began to circle you like a lion, his tail remaining on your neck. "All those who have seen mu, fear mu."
You crawl back a bit, but you can not go far with the impromptu leash keeping you in place. Then words slip from your tongue before you can stop yourself-
"Mu?"
The demon king stopped in his tracks and let the tip of his tail caress your chin as he observed you closely. He brought one of his hands forth and cupped your face, sharp claws digging into your cheeks, but with enough softness that they did not prick your skin.
"It is my name," he explained, seeming a bit perplexed that you had spoken back to him. Honestly, you were just as surprised. And scared. Oh so terribly scared.
" … so you can talk normally?" You blurted out, averting your gaze from Imu's frown.
"We are alone for now, so I will make an exception," he sighed and pulled his tail back, "A God can not speak to his disciples like one of them."
You tried to nod but he was still holding your head in place. He caressed your face, his palm was so much bigger than your whole face, he could have choked you out within seconds.
"But he can voice his mind freely to his mate," he continued, looking deep into your eyes.
His … mate?
"With all respect, mu- Sir- Saint- … I wasn’t aware this was to be my fate," you politely told him, feeling your cheeks heat up under his unrelenting attention.
"Neither was I," the demon said.
Imu released you from his hold and you fell forward into the grass, shielding your face with your arms.
This time you didn’t remain on the floor, you sat back up on your knees and saw the demon king walking through his garden. A small butterfly landed on his hand and he gently kissed the air right above the critter. To think the ruler of the world could be so soft to a creature that was even beneath humans— It almost fooled you into believing that what awaited you wasn’t the ninth circle of hell.
"The day my knights captured you I saw a vision clear as day," Imu began and more butterflies began to swarm his naked, upper body. "You were sitting at my side as I ruled from my throne. You sat with me for tea in the garden and … you kneeled before me just like you are doing now."
One of the blue butterflies landed on the tip of your nose, Imu noticed and you swore you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"It is fate then," he announced, "Rise."
You stood up on shaky legs.
Imu closed the distance between you and put his hand on the back of your head, his other hand held your waist. He looked at you with such great fondness, as if you had known each other for centuries, not minutes. A relief, because you knew then that he wouldn’t sacrifice you. A curse, because your freedom was forfeited.
"Thou belongs to mu from this day forth."
👁️| To be the devil's spouse was no easy task.
Imu kept you isolated to a few rooms all located next to the flower hall. From the windows you saw the city of Marie Geoise, all the high and mighty Celestials looked like ants from up here as they pranced through the streets and went about their day. You liked to sit by the window and listen to the faint sounds of music and all the voices mixing together, as well as the birds who sang to you.
Your days were lonely. A servant dressed in a black robe, her hair covered by a veil, brought you food three times a day. All lavish meals with exotic ingredients you had never tasted before. You were never hungry, and the servant, although she rarely spoke, was never rude to you either. It didn’t help you to feel any less like a caged animal though.
You didn’t love the king, how could you? You barely knew him. But you would have preferred his company to lying in bed on your own, yearning for someone, anyone to disrupt this monotony. This was no different than rotting in hell.
👁️| As if the gods had heard your wish, there was a knock on your door at night. You flinched and hid under your blanket, the servant had never bothered you this late.
The door opened and Imu stepped inside, having to bent down to fit through the door. It surprised you that the entire castle wasn’t built for his size. He seemed upset, about what, you did not know. You were too afraid to ask before he descended onto the mattress with his massive body, his tail following behind him.
"Mortal," he growled, causing you to be fully alert, all sleepiness forgotten in an instant. "I need you … to serve me."
He cast your blanket aside and left you exposed, only your chest was covered by a thin blouse, your crotch obscured by underwear that was easily seen through. Fearing for the worst, you squeezed your thighs together and pleaded with him.
"Please, my Lord, I have never … I'm not sure if I could," you told him, fighting back tears.
The demon swung his tail around and stared at you, then he crawled forward until your tiny body was underneath him. You were shaking, badly, it seemed to fascinate him more than worry him. His scent was strange, but not unpleasant, there was something otherworldly underneath the strong musk.
"You mustn’t think of me as a monster," Imu tried to soothe you and caressed your face, "You are my mate, not my harlot."
Imu carefully placed his head on your chest, resting most of his weight on his arms so he didn’t press all the air out of your lungs. He let out a little huff, almost like a dog who had curled up in its bed. His tail wrapped around your thigh. Not only did you grow fond of his scent and hated yourself for it, you also enjoyed the comfort of his body heat.
"Did … something happen?" You dared to ask.
The king's lip twitched, showing off his fangs for a moment.
"It's most unfortunate that I rule over a world unworthy of being saved from itself," he muttered, but refused to elaborate, "Let us not speak of it. I came here not to think."
You nodded, perhaps even demonic lords needed a break from destroying humanity.
Unaware as to what overcame you, you began to pat his head, carding your fingers through his white curls. He relaxed at that, his giant body became a weighted blanket squeezing you down into the mattress. It was soothing, so soothing that you drifted off to sleep.
👁️| In your dreams you were haunted by your memories of the town and people you once loved all being taken from you in a single night. Your body tried to toss and turn, but Imu firmly kept you in place, preventing you from falling off the mattress. You faded in and out of sleep, sometimes you were fully aware of the demon staring at your face with his crimson eyes smoldering like ember in the darkness, and in the next moment that ember set your home ablaze.
No matter how gentle the demon king treated you, how much he spoiled you with food and comfort, you would never forget what he'd done to you.
"Mate," he whispered in your ear, his claws lightly scratched over your thighs, "Are you alright?"
"It's hard to sleep with you staring at me," you confessed and the demon looked a bit dumbfounded.
"I was ensuring your safety," he replied, "How would you prefer for us to rest?"
"Maybe you could sleep behind me?"
Imu blinked slowly. Then nodded and lay down so you could scoot over until your back touched his warm chest, he was so kind to adjust the blanket and pull it over your body, it was too small for him to fit under. He put his arm around you and began to murmur in ancient tongues, what confused you at first, soon helped you to find rest.
Though you couldn’t ignore the bulge you felt pressing up against your lower back as you returned to the land of dreams.
👁️| Imu-sama visited you every night from then on to rest his head on your chest or in your lap and share his sorrows with you. He never went into the details, but you figured that it didn’t matter as long as he was satisfied. And judging by his calm manner and growls you werd sure your presence alone was enough to soothe him.
Sometimes he stormed into your room like a hurricane, only for his breathing to come to a halt when he saw you sprawled out on the bed in your robes with your hair freshly washed and your skin still glistening with lotion.
"Mine," he purred, "All mine."
"All yours," you whispered back to him as he pulled you close for a kiss.
The demon king's tongue was forked, it explored the depths of your mouth and slid over your teeth as he stole your breath away. He held your head between his large hands to devour you for as long as he pleased. His appetite for you was insatiable.
His kisses spoke of a deep longing, one that couldn’t be explained by his yearning for you during the day. He must have waited for this moment for all eternity—
"My Lord," you speak up, his taste still lingering on your lips, "How old are you?"
Imu-sama tilted his head and kissed your nose.
"I have lived more lives than you could ever imagine, my little mortal. For eight hundred years I have ruled this earth, and there will be eight hundred years of my kingdom to come. With you, at my side."
"But how will I live that long?"
"Don’t fret, mu has an answer for everything."
( NSFW! )
👁️| Eventually Imu's carnal desire for you outgrew his restraint and he decided to bless your bond with the final act of intimacy. By then, you had already accepted your life as his songbird who entertained and consoled him. It was still a daunting task, you had felt his bulge more than once, each time fearing he'd force himself on you during the night. He had every right to, who could’ve stopped him? Celestials weren’t known to hold back.
Imu was different. In every aspect. From the way he spoke to you, how he held you as if he truly worshipped you and the many ways in which he tried to accommodate you. He was making an effort to bridge the distance between an ancient god who ruled the world and a human who was naturally afraid of him.
The demon king spread your legs, he dove in between them to bring his lips to your groin and cherish the sensitive spot with his kisses. You twitched at every lick of his forked tongue across the inside of your thighs, lingering dangerously close to your crotch.
"Allow me to prepare you, little one. I do not wish for you to die on our first union," his dark voice pulled you out of your trance, your vision of him was blurry from the tears you shed. He tutted and reached out to wipe them away. "Don’t cry, you were born to take me."
Imu lifted your legs higher. He ignored your whines and delved right into your hole, which accepted him without much of a fight. His tongue worked like magic, due to its length it could reach deeper inside of you than anyone else. There, he swirled it around and stretched out your inner walls. His hands caressed your thighs to soothe you, but all it did was overstimulate you further.
"Ah! Stop, stop- it's too much, I can’t," you cried out, not fully meaning what you said.
"Be good for me," the demon rumbled.
He did not yield to your senseless pleading and continued his preparation of your body. When he found your most vulnerable spot, hidden deep inside of you, you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Gripping the sheets wasn’t enough, you needed something stronger to hold on to!
In your desperation you got a hold of Imu's horns, his eyes briefly flickered up at you before they returned their attention to the meal he was feasting on. You swore you were close to coming from his tongue alone, you were so eager that you began to rub your crotch against his tongue for more friction. He quickly shut it down, insisting that you weren’t allowed to pleasure yourself.
"Only I will bring you salvation," the demon king promised and licked your juices from his lips.
👁️| Imu expected you to be shy during your first time, but instead of shivering at the sight of the demon's cock, you kicked your feet in excitement. Truly, you were no better than a bitch in heat.
You bit your lip as he slowly stroked his dick and pressed its entire length down on your stomach to prove to you how impressive his size was. Big enough to tear your insides apart and break your spine if he wasn’t careful. The pattern on his chest continued all the way down to his shaft, drawing a line right above the vein on the underside of his dick.
How tempting, you writhed underneath him, begging for him to hurry up and take you. Your desire was driving you crazy, his tongue had been enough to make you forget about all your fears and worries, now his cock would seal the deal.
Imu's tip entered your tight hole and you moaned his name, as he pushed deeper inside your eyes met his'.
"Look at me, never take your eyes off me, little one, I want to see how much I can break you," he groaned, burying himself further in your heat.
The pain was overwhelming at first, you did not cry for him to stop even once, too eager to be filled up by him.
His horns were just within reach for your hands to grab and squeeze, it helped to ease your agony for long enough that you endured Imu's cock sliding balls-deep into you. The demon king let out a strained growl and let his tail whip through the air, his red eyes began to glow in excitement.
"You’re taking me so well," his demonic voice purred at you, his face just above your own while he caressed your cheek, wiping away a single tear rolling down. "No mortal has ever made me feel this good."
You smiled through the pain. It wasn’t until the first thrust that you noticed you had stained the white bed sheets with your blood. Unbeknownst to you, Imu was planning to keep the sheets forever to preserve this moment. He would frame them in memory of your precious virginity, which now belonged to him and him alone.
Soon you were rewarded as the pain turned into pleasure and Imu-sama picked up his pace. He trapped you underneath his body and heat, you could hardly breathe as he fucked you with a fury. Your legs ached as he bent and folded them as he saw fit, he did everything to be as deep inside of you as possible. His tip reached so far that you briefly feared you'd die if he moved his hips any faster.
"I- Imu," you gasped, locking eyes with him.
"Yes, my love?" The demon replied and kissed your shivering lips, he squeezed your thighs to keep you in place and lost himself in his thrusts.
" … please," you begged and squeezed your eyes shut, "please fuck me harder!"
Imu raised his brows, he ceased his onslaught on your body for a moment, then he grinned with his fangs on full display and obliged the wish of his mate. He adjusted his cock before he slammed back into you. You screamed and gripped his horns even tighter. He pounded you with renewed vigor, slowly inching closer to your physical breaking point.
A mortal vessel wasn’t made to survive sex with an ancient beast, one who towered above you and put all other men to shame in his shadow. No one else could ever bring you to such heights of pleasure.
Imu pulled on your chin and you opened your mouth at the silent command. The ruler of the world spat at you and you eagerly swallowed it up without needing to be told.
"So, so beautiful," he said, his white hair falling over his shoulders and covering nearly all of his face, "Don’t die on me now, we are so close to reaching nirvana."
You nodded, though your body was beginning to crumble under his weight and brutal pace. Your ass was bruised from how hard he drove into you, you couldn’t move your legs anymore and your lungs were slowly giving up. He knew you were close to breaking, and as your god and lover, Imu didn’t wish for you to perish on your first night together.
"More, more," you whined.
"You are begging for your death, mortal," the demon responded with a low chuckle.
Instead of fucking you any harder, he choked you and took your last breath with a deep kiss. That was enough to crush you, you felt a shock running through your core and came on his dick. Your screams were like music to the king's ears, he closed his eyes and rested his head on your chest, breathing heavy alongside you.
"So good for me," he rasped and thrusted inside you one last time, then you were once again moaning your little heart out from the burning hot semen stuffing every inch inside your body.
As he orgasmed a pair of wings suddenly grew from his back, black feathers covered in ink bathed you in its shadow. Imu threw his head back and roared like only a demon could, his fangs growing bigger as if he was preparing for battle. He remained inside you, but calmed down and let his wings settle at his sides. The sight of them intrigued your weary eyes.
"Hah … ah … my Lord," you spoke breathlessly.
Imu hushed you and grabbed your waist. Without sliding out of the comforting heat between your legs, he rearranged your body so he could spoon you from behind like he had done many nights before. He enjoyed keeping his cock warm inside his little mortal, knowing that you were enjoying it just as much. He sprinkled kisses all over the back of your neck and then traveled down to your spine. Thankfully it was still intact.
"Was that enough to satisfy my insatiable pet?" The growl in his voice made you feel so much weaker in his hold, his words alone could send you over the edge for a second time.
"Yes," you confessed and Imu smiled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"I wish to sleep like this," he demanded, all you could do was agree quietly and nod, too weak to fight back.
You fell asleep with Imu's cock plunged inside of you, keeping all of his seed plugged up.
"Sweet dreams, mortal," he whispered to you, covering your naked, shivering body with his black wing.
👁️| One fateful day Imu announced that he was leaving the Holy Land to deal with a powerful enemy who had arrived on Elbaf. Before he departed, he kissed your forehead with great sadness and apologized to you.
"I will return soon," he said and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his claws dragging across your skin, "Until then, the Gorosei will watch over you."
"The Gorosei?"
There was no time to explain. Imu called for a servant dressed in all black who lead you out of your bedroom and beyond the rooms which you had been allowed to enter thus far. It was only your second time walking through the entire castle, this time you could see it all clearly.
When you arrived at the Room of Authority, you were greeted by five old men who all stared at you in quiet bewilderment.
"Who are you?" One of them demanded to know, "How dare you enter these halls!"
"Silence," a distorted voice echoed from the snail on the table, forcing the Elders to quieten down. "That is mu's mate, thou shall not harm nor insult thee. Guard thee with thy life."
Now the Elders were even more shocked than before. The snail fell silent and left them to figure out what to do with this information.
"The Great One has taken a mate?" Ju Peter murmured.
"I would have never thought that a mortal could …," Nusjuro was cut off by Garling.
"It doesn’t matter what any of us have thought. We have no authority over what our Lord does, if he chooses to bed a mortal …," Garling paused and looked at you with disdain, "Then so be it."
"Sit," Mars ordered and pointed at the free chair next to Garling.
Anxiously you sat down. You could only hope that Imu would keep his promise and return, without him at your side you felt just like a slave again. Vulnerable and weak.
You hugged your legs close and prayed.
Thanks for reading! Here's some food for all the old and new Imu gooners, would you like to see more content for him? <3 I will do my best to provide, especially if a new chapter reveals more about him.
I was taken aback by Imu's supposed gender, since I always wrote them as feminine, but I went with masculine pronouns this time. I will get used to it-
Summary: A day in the room of flowers with your lover!
contains/tags: fluff... Like disgustingly sweet fluff... At least in my standards, I was smiling so much writing this aaah!!! They/Them pronouns for Imu too! Probably extremely ooc-
(A/N: On GOD I'm jumping on Imu if I see them... They ain't running... Oh on a second note! An anon requested some Imu fluff, since I was already writing this before I got your request I will get started on your second idea immediately! Hope you like this fic!! <3<3)
On Ao3 here!
Hope you enjoy hehe! It's a little short but I hope the Imu fans like it 👉👈
“Gunko, you're dismissed.” Imu orders, it's just the two of you in the flower room, you have been staring at the flowers for a while already, not exactly caring what your lover was doing.
“Sweetheart?” They call out to you, you pout and look away, you hated that stupid black cloak they wore! You wanted to see them in their human form!!! You kicked your feet against your back and whistled, pretending not to hear them.
The laugh that resounded from them was deep and amused.
“Thou's being awfully mean.” They approach you slowly, you're still admiring the flowers and butterflies as they come around, usually you would have turned around by now, but the scenery seems to have still caught your gaze.
Imu smiles before laying on their chest besides you, also watching the flowers and the butterflies.
“All for thou.” They murmur in your ear, and their sweet tone is enough for you to forgive them with a chuckle.
You nod, you've objected many times and didn't understand why you needed to have all this– a room that was dedicated to your favourite flowers, with a window roof that allowed for the sun to fall on everything and to warm you up. Suddenly, a butterfly comes landing on your nose. It brings Imu to chuckle at how adorable you look. He extends a finger and it flies to his hand, as if they ordered it.
“Hey! Why would you take the pretty butterfly away from me?” You grumble, it posed no danger to you! And it looked adorable!!
“Why would Mu gaze upon fake beauty when thy real beauty is right….” They pinched your cheek suddenly, making you squeal. “Here.”
You looked away with a fake grunt, feigning annoyance as they kept watching over you, wearing their favorite dress. Your face relaxed as you fully laid on the grass, your eyes felt heavy from all the long and boring talk your partner had been having with Gunko just minutes ago.
“Thou really is not suitable for such responsibilities.”
“Why should I be? You're right here, the world doesn't need a better ruler than you.” You winked and grinned, and the flash of red on Imu's face was undeniable, it matched their eyes and face tattoos as well.
You leaned in to place a kiss on their face tattoo before going back to your admiring session, your hair splayed out on the grass as your head rested on the palm of your hand. You began feeling yourself doze off, and they noticed as well.
“Thou should go to bed.”
“It's comfortable here..” You argued.
“No, thou will have back pain”
“It's worth it though, isn't it?”
You turned around, back on the grass as you stared at the ceiling. You could still see some roses in the corner of your eyes, filling the spaces. Imu did not wish to disturb you, so they laid next to you on the grass slowly, watching you slowly drift away. You mindlessly leant towards them, and they didn't hesitate to maneuver you to lay on them fully, it would be better than the grass after all, at least they reasoned with themselves. You hummed at your partner's softness and fell into deeper sleep, Imu dared not move.
Realistically he knew both of you would have to get up soon, you to continue working as a Holy Knight, and them to continue.. well doing what they do.
He noticed your finger tracing mindless circles on their chest, still not fully asleep.
“Something on thou's mind?”
“Not really… just not looking forward to another day of work, I'm also admiring my sexy partner.” You mumbled, their physique was beyond words, sculpted as a perfect mixture between men and woman…
Imu doesn't reply to your compliment, but they store it to heart. “Mhm, you may say with Mu then.”
“You know it's not that simple! You put both of your elbows on his chest before you started on a rant about how you and the knights were keeping the place up and ready for any sort of attacks, you really didn't look like a vicious holy knight in this case, just their lover.
“Are you even paying attention to me?!” You snapped your fingers at their forehead and they gave out the tiniest grunt of pain. Besides haki, they knew of no other power, so they were always confused on how you hurt them.
“Of course Mu is…”
You sighed… “of course you are.” You said in a sweet tone before laying on them again, this time fully falling asleep, the soft sounds of grass whooshing and the warmth of the sunlight lulling you to sleep.
They watch you carefully, they make sure to not move their head too much so as to not hit you with their horns.
“The most beautiful lover in Mu's 800 years of living…” they think every time they look at you, every time they touch you, hold you, kiss you. For without you, they do not know where they would be. Whether they would've been able to lead Marijoa into what it is right now, or if they would've left far far ago.
They lean in to press a kiss on your forehead… then they back off. Then they realize they want more, so they kiss your head a few more times.. and slowly more until they reach your forehead and then you eventually shift slightly, and they back off immediately, scared they had woken you up, but you don't move again. They pout, blowing the hair from their eye so they can look at you better.
They really wanted more kisses from you… but damn it they have to wait until you rest a bit!!!
They didn't wish to fall asleep, they preferred to watch you, how could they not when you're so adorable!!!
They held onto you tighter, their tentacles have already moved on their own to pick up some roses, they brought it to their eyes so that they could investigate them themselves, best of the best, only for their lover, of course.
They reach up and carefully work the flowers and the stems together, with your head nuzzled under their chin, your soft breaths hit their chest, making their heart flutter, but they dare not move. Imu makes sure the flowers are not thorny at the stems, taking them off themselves with their tentacles, making sure they wouldn’t hurt their darling when they put it on their head. The flower crown looks lovely, the roses are perfect, and it was sturdy for you to wear for the day.
Oh how Imu loved when you wore their flower crowns, for a full day even!
The knights teased you playfully about it, but why wouldn’t you wear something Imu themselves made!!!
You slept, unaware of the careful hands working behind your back. Imu set the crown carefully to your side, and decided to take a nap as well, they ordered some of their tentacles to cover you both as a blanket, and just as quickly as it happened, they fell asleep with you.
You felt the weight of your lover’s blanket before you opened your eyes, you always complained you couldn’t sleep your best without one after all. A smile appeared on your face at the thought of Imu remembering your preference. You hummed quietly, and right after that you felt their fingers in your hair.
“Awake, darling?” They whispered, in case you were still sleeping.
“Mhm… A few more minutes.”
“I thought thou were the one to say we needed to get up.”
“I’m comfortable!” You argued before giving them a peck on the lips to shut them up, it worked wonders, and they do indeed shut their mouth. It takes Imu a few seconds to think about their next course of action, and to somehow get you to fully wake up.
“I made thou a gift.” They told you while they rubbed your back… You were immediately interested but damn it you still wanted sleep!!
“I guess I can look at it… Then I’ll continue slee– It’s adorable!” You pushed off them and jumped out of the blanket when you saw the crown, looking at it from every angle carefully to make sure you admired it properly.
You didn’t even notice when Imu got up behind you. They picked the crown from your hands and you turned around to scold them immediately, only for them to place it back on your head and lean down to give you a soft kiss.
They pull back when you touch their face, letting you breathe, before they smiled,
NOTE: I tried to keep this section as canon-compliant as possible. I’ll admit I’m not great at this sort-of writing, and I mainly relied on their wiki page, but fuck it we ball. Also, they/them pronouns for Imu, ig.
!! ALSO, TW: VERY brief mentions of sex !!
Does anyone else lowkey have Imu as a hear me out? Just me? Okay.
Imu isn’t a loud yandere. They don’t go around proclaiming that you are theirs and theirs alone, or making any sort of grand scene that’d get the message across, they just see it as an irrefutable fact; like, they literally cannot comprehend the idea that their ownership of you is something that can be contested. It doesn’t register. They—in their own mind—already own the entire world, so by extension they own you.
As such, they don’t get jealous easily, if at all. Jealousy implies insecurity or even acknowledging someone as a threat, which Imu doesn’t do. They’re not stupid, mind you—they absolutely know when someone is actually making a move on their darling—they just don’t see the person as a threat; at worst, they’re a nuisance, but never a threat.
Though if someone is notable enough for Imu to consider them a threat? They’re dead. Imu is extremely possessive of their possessions, and you are their most prized one, so any actual threat is getting wiped from the annals of history. Usually, it will be done by someone else, simply because Imu very rarely gets involved hands-on in a situation, but they are absolutely capable of dealing with the threat themselves if all other options are exhausted.
This is very rare though, since they'd probably keep your existence as secretive as their own; for one, because they don't want their own existence exposed, but also because they don't want anyone else encroaching on their possession.
So you're probably never interacting with another person. Anyone who does know Imu will be ordered to ignore you, and vice versa. They are the ONLY one who gets your attention.
Let me also make this clear: you are not their equal. They do not see you as a lover, they see you as a possession. A pet. A prized pet, yes, but a pet nonetheless. Do not expect them to show you any level of respect for your autonomy, because they won’t. They can very easily take away any privileges you do have as their favorite, and that includes what little ‘freedom’ you have.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds, is what I’m saying. That hand will buster call your home island (with absolutely zero remorse) as readily as it will pet you.
Now thankfully, it’s not easy to piss them off. They don’t rise to insults or the like, because they don’t particularly care about your thoughts or feelings… which, okay, is kinda shitty, but considering who you’re dealing with, it’s probably a good thing. Just don’t mention any of the touchy subjects (Lili, D, Void Century, Joyboy) and you’re probably okay.
Plus, thankfully, they’re pretty straight-to-the-point. They won’t pull any, “I’m fine,” on you... which is a small mercy.
Even so, they’re just not very flexible or lenient in general. Insubordination—which they define very loosely—is still punished, it’s just not as severely as if you really pissed them off. I actually don’t think they’d get physical, just because of their belief that a ruler shouldn’t get their hands dirty, but you’ll definitely have privileges revoked until you learn to behave. To Imu, they’re basically conditioning a dog to not go to the bathroom inside.
Their punishments can get pretty bad though. I said they won’t get physical with you, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they won’t have someone else rough you up. You could also have food, water, or sleep (they see these as privileges) deprived from you, or some other fucked-up way to punish you… and they’ll keep it up until you make it clear you won’t make whatever mistake led to you being punished in the first place.
And if you're bound by the covenant, the punishments are a lot more extreme, because there won't be any lasting impact due to the near-instantaneous regeneration. Imu knows this, and Imu exploits it.
I’m also deliberately not mentioning verbal abuse in the list of punishments, because I don’t see Imu as the type, as they don’t like needless rudeness… which is arguably worse. You’ll be starving and filthy, and they’ll just be perfectly polite and serene the whole time. There’s a certain cruelty to it in a way that them degrading you wouldn’t have, because degradation would mean they’re at least feeling some sort of emotion towards you.
They will expect complete and utter subservience—and reverence—from you. That means speaking when spoken to (and you better add that -sama honorific) and doing as your told, when you’re told. As stated, they don’t get pissed-off easily, but they can be on the temperamental side, and what constitutes a slight against them is pretty broad. This, of course, leads to you being punished.
So just don’t be deliberately oppositional, alright?
Also, hope you don’t mind being on your knees. A lot. I don’t even mean this in a sexual way, I mean you are quite literally going to be kneeling for very long stretches of time, at least until Imu decides that they want your presence… which can sometimes take a while.
They’re naturally pretty solitary, and don’t really need companionship of any variety. This, coupled with their reclusive nature and the whole eight hundred years of very little interaction thing, means they can go very long periods where your presence is neither needed nor wanted.
They’re also not very affectionate. You will probably never hear the words, “I love you,” from them; partially because they don’t love you, but also because they just aren’t the type to say such a thing. In tandem with this, they aren’t particularly fond of physical contact.
As such, they have a pretty much nonexistent libido… so uh, at least you’re not a sex slave…? Like there’s a non-zero chance you won’t ever get freaky with Imu. Which, admittedly, isn’t even the bare minimum—it’s just a basic human right—but silver linings ig?
(Though if you want my personal hc on how that would go, I’ll just say that they’re no different in bed than they are out of it. They’re probably actually cheeks at sex, tbh, because they’d absolutely be the type to finish and just go, “we’re done now,” with ZERO regard for if you finished. Literally the most unsexual sex you can think of, if that makes any sense.)
Now, this all doesn’t mean they’re completely avoidant when it comes to the instances where your presence is desired, it just means that their ‘care’ doesn’t manifest in the traditional way one would expect. They still ensure you are kept healthy and the like, because they don’t want their favorite possession to just fucking die on them or something, they’re just not overt with it.
Though you don’t even get the benefit of flexing your situation! Like you can’t flex on your haters at all, because Imu will just actually kill you for revealing their existence… but at least you can drag your opps down with you?
Don’t try to escape. Just don’t. The chances of you succeeding aren’t even negligible, they’re absolute zero. Imu has the entire World Government at their beck and call; there is, quite literally, nowhere you could run.
Plus, since you’re their favorite, they’ve probably bound you with the covenant; so even if you SOMEHOW escape, and evade Imu’s other methods of recapture, your ass is getting possessed and you’ll go through the shame of walking yourself back to their side.
All in all, your life will actually suck if you somehow got Imu as a yandere.
I think Imu is an interesting character, especially for an imagine like this, because I really don't think they'd differ very much in a similar scenario where they aren't a yandere. There are minor differences, of course, but none of them are so significant that they'd be any better or worse either way; they're just so dogshit as a theoretical partner that you're not better off either way.
I'm sick of Steve being portrayed as a 7ft alpha daddy mogger guy, so here are some REAL headcanons about Steve having a crush:
- He tends to adjust his jacket or shirt every time he sees you, as if he's getting ready to impress you.
- He fiddles with his gloves or shield (if it's nearby) while talking to you, because he doesn't know where to put his hands.
- He tries to maintain eye contact but quickly looks away if he feels like he's staring at you for too long.
- He laughs awkwardly every time you say something funny, then blushes a little when he realizes it.
- He stumbles over his words or says things that are too formal for himself, like, “I'd like to... uh... talk to you about... that,” nervously but sweetly.
- He stand between you and anything that might hit or bother you, even if it's minimal, just to protect you.
- He opens the door to the lab or office for you, with that shy smile that he's not sure you'll like.
- He makes sure you have everything you need on your desk: water, coffee, organized papers, working pens.
- Takes extra notes to help you, even if you haven't asked, just because he wants everything to be perfect for you.
- Remembers things you said days ago and brings them up as an excuse to talk to you or surprise you, like, “Hey, I remembered you liked X, I got this for you.”
- Very enthusiastic about explaining something he's passionate about to you, just to see your reaction, and deep down hoping you will admire them a little.
- Leaning in to see you better when you are doing something, even if there is no need, as if he just want to get closer.
- Clumsily imitating your gestures without you noticing, as if he's unconsciously want to be closer to you.
- He accompanies you while you work, keeping a respectful distance but always close by, just so he doesn't miss a thing.
- He takes small risks to interact with you, like walking by you to hand you a document or asking you a trivial question just to talk to you.
- He gently teases you with jokes to make you laugh and see your smile.
- He watches you when you're not looking and quickly looks away when you catch him.
- He gives you awkward compliments, like “that... uh... the project you did is... very well done” with an instant blush.
- He is genuinely interested in things you like, even if he didn't care much about them before, just to have something to talk about with you.
- He thinks about you when you're not around, then tries to hide it when he sees you again.
Seto Kaiba x Reader AO3 Authors everyone should check out!!!!
Aki_The_Shiftless - Everything is a hit. EVERYTHING. Midnight Coffee was the first one I read and it was SO good I started reading everything else. It was like a gateway drug.
forlornTimekeeper - THE SERIES WAS SO GOOD IVE READ IT MULTIPLE TIMES!!!! The running bit of Seto and coffee was something I really loved!!!
DragonSilk - Peak. Absolutely peak. There is NO plot that’s not amazing and if the completed works are anything to go by, I PROMISE the ones in progress will be worth the wait!!!!
Royal_Wisteria - You have NO idea how invested I am in the plots and I think I’ve reread the works so many times you might have to send me to a mental hospital (please don’t, I need to be able to read the new chapters when they’re published)!!!
SilverMalkin - I LOVE a competent reader that climbs the ranks based on THEIR. OWN. SKILLS. AND is NOT afraid to put people in their place. I’m really looking forward to seeing where this goes!
TayRaeDoll - WHO SAID A WOMAN CANT DO IT???? HELL YEAH SHE CAN!!!! If you want a cool, pretty unhinged, capable, and smart reader? THIS ONE!!! THIS ONE RIGHT HERE!!!!
lysimachias - Okay I LOVED both of their works, Occam’s Razor especially!!!! The summary itself had me hooked and it was well worth it!!!!
prussianengel - Nothing to say, just:
(Freak shit WHILE being respectful of the trauma???? I LOVE it!!!)
epikaa - OH MY GODS 😩😩😩!!!! A TREASURE TROVE OF ONE SHOTS!!!! BLESS THE ONES THAT MADE EPIKAA AND BLESS THEIR BIG BEAUTIFUL BRAIN!!!!!
In short, each of these writers deserve nothing but love and gratitude because they are serving this part of the yugioh fandom so well, they should be knighted and offered a royal title!!!
A/N : hii swirlzy! i think this idea is super cute and i have some ideas for it but if you also have some other ideas for this trope, please comment them ! these are super fun and simple to make, and i will be writing fics soon so drop your ideas !! please reblog , comment like a follow my blog ! but enjoys scrolling swirlzy !
꩜ baker!reader who opens up the bakery a few blocks down from ptmc and suddenly the hospital staff start showing up every morning like clockwork-drawn in by the smell of fresh bread, warm lights before sunrise, and the quiet comfort your shop offers after long overnight shifts.
꩜ baker!reader who is a single mom and leaves her daughter at the daycare near their house and works for hours straight, baking, greeting customers and cleaning- just to come home and see her baby girl.
꩜ baker!reader who leaves hand written notes on the display cases and it brightens peoples day every time.
꩜ baker!reader who always has flour on her, in her hair , on her apron, the clothes underneath her apron literally everywhere.
꩜ baker!reader who walks into a room and smells like literal cinnamon buns and strawberry pastries.
꩜ baker!reader who lets her daughter bake with her at home, recording her daughters tiny fist balled up, kneading the dough for your croissants.
꩜ baker!reader who remembers all her customers orders. especially if they are cute.
꩜ baker!reader who starts noticing that a man by the name of jack abbot comes into your shop at least 5 days out of the week. he claims he just comes for the coffee but his true intentions is to spend some of his money on your cute pastries and to see your face right when he’s coming out of a long night shift.
꩜ baker!reader who ends up at the ed one day whilst at work because she burned herself on the tray she was taking out of the oven. leaving her no choice but to walk down to ptmc to see a doctor.
just as jack was leaving his shift, he seen you, sitting there in the chair in the waiting room , holding your forearm with your head down trying to ignore the pain. he slowly steps back from the door to stand infront of you.
“(reader) ?” he calls, your head shoots up and looks at jack. your in your weak state and your at his work place this isn’t good.
“oh hello jack !” you smile at him hoping he doesn’t see you holding your arm and your teeth gritting together. (ofc he does though)
“you okay ? why are ya here ?” he bends down in front if you.
“oh just a baking incident thats all , im fine really.” you lie damn near doing anything to get you out of this situation.
“can i take a look?” he says
“sure.”
he takes the gauze that they gave you off your arm slowly, revealing a burn on your arm , it isn’t the worst but it will take a hell of a time to heal.
“oh sweetie this is bad. how’d this happen.”
your face reddens at the sudden nickname though you just try to ignore it , answering his question.
“i was taking a tray out the oven and it kinda sat on my skin for a good second.”
“let me see what i can do to get you in and out , i had already clocked out i cant help you sweetie.” he say standing straight about to go to the front desk to ask for robby or dana.
“oh thank you jack i need to get back to the shop and i have to pick my daughter up later today so i didn’t want to be in the waiting room all day.” you say
his brows furrow when you say daughter. he had been going to your shop for like 3 months now , all the eye contact, free pastries before shift all meant nothing? you had a husband and kid ? his mind was rambled with thoughts but he just shook it off and gave you a casual “of course.” walking up to the frony
꩜ baker!reader who sees jack less after that day. she doesn’t know why but it truly confuses her. she didn’t say anything wrong on the day of her burn incident. she was completely oblivious.
꩜ jack abbot who tells robby about you and tells him that you most likely have a husband because you have a daughter which will completely ruin his chances with your pretty little face. why in the world would he play mistress?
꩜ jack abbot who doesn’t listen to robby when he say “avoiding her is wrong” or “shes probably not even married , she just has a kid.” he keeps trying to refute robby by saying things like “she probably takes the ring off at work” or “shes beyond too beautiful to just have a daughter and no husband.
꩜ little does he know how wrong he is and how right robby is.
Synopsis: Robby falls in love with a young nurse and fights it every step of the way. But when you know, you know.
Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, angst, fighting, slow burn, blood, gore, medical inaccuracies, pittfest, panic attacks, mentions of suicide.
Pre season one:
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen
season one:
7 am | 8 am | 9 am | 10 am | 11 am | 12 pm | 1 pm | 2 pm | 3 pm | 4 pm | 5 pm | 6 pm | 7 pm | 8 pm | 9 pm
Blurbs during the ten months between season one and two (can be read as a standalone):
I love you (18+) | whats going on in that head of yours? (18+) | Intimacy (18+) | nobody can touch you the way that I do (18+) | dreams (18+) | Date Night
