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sanyu-thewitch05 · 8 months

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I had this thought last night, need to share with you:

The Yandere this time is a childhood friend,his name is Morris Masques

He and Darling used to be best friends, he was a lonely little boy with black hair and yellow eyes,he didn't have any friend till little Darling came along

But then one day,Darling began to avoid Morris, when he asked her she snapped at him and called him a freak then left. He never saw her again after that

He carried that haunting memory into adulthood,even when he became a adult and a successful entrepreneur,he still can't forget that moment of betrayal,a grudge he had against Darling

One day, however he saw her again, Darling had joined his company. He thought he would never see her again, let's just say he was furious when they met face-to-face

"Why are you even here anyway???!! After what you did,you have some guts coming here!!!!"

"........"

"I'm sorry"

Morris was suprised Darling apologized and he learned the truth of that year told by her

Darling's parents didn't like her being friends with Morris so they forced her to stop being friends with him,as a child Darling didn't know any better so she acted bad towards Morris so that he wouldn't get close to her. Afterwards Darling's family moved away to a new home which made Darling left Morris

Darling's parents are deceased,when remembered the past,she decided to join his company and wanted to make up with him

Morris wasn't sure to trust her on her story but he didn't do anything further about it. As a employee of his company, Darling was very hardworking,she wanted to make amends so she didn't object at all even when he gave her a hard time: More workload than usual

Sometimes he saw her sleeping at her desk after working overtime,she woke up later on with someone's jacket on her shoulder,she didn't know it was Morris'

Although Darling wanted his forgiveness,she believed that they'll never be the same again and he'll always hate her

When Morris saw her genuine effort in getting his forgiveness,he started to have feelings for her again and the buried obsession for her started to rise again

Things were well for a time,Darling was a diligent employee of his company and Morris was pleased with how she was doing well,he treated her better gradually. But then something happened

Morris heard words of Darling's plan to transfer herself to a different company as she has gotten a job offer from them. Her fellow co-workers were happy for her

He knew that company has a handsome president like him, he thought she was trying to leave him for another man

After all these years of leaving him and coming back to him,now she's trying to leave again ?

So Morris drove to her apartment in the middle of night and it was raining heavily, Darling was suprised to find a wet Morris at her doorstep. She asked him to come in,that was a mistake

When she lost her caution,he immediately pinned her down into her bed and he fucked her. She said she wanted his forgiveness right?

Then do it with her life,he was damaged for years becuz of her lies,so it's fair she devote her life to be his wife as a way to earn his forgiveness right?

Darling don't have to worry, he'll treat her like his good little housewife and give her his babies~

TW: Noncon, dubcon, impregnating kink, stalking

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I got busy with dance team tryouts and homework.

You had to make it right to him. You had to.

Morris Masques, the pale boy with hair black as night and eyes yellow as the sun. He was all alone until you asked him to play with you. You played with him until you started to avoid him. You hoped he would get the hint and leave you alone. But he didn't, and on the last day of the school year, you said those final haunting words.

"Stay away from me, you freak!" You screamed, making Morris cry.

You walked your tiny body to your driveway and never saw him again. Morris, however, has thought about you nonstop. Your words haunting his psyche for 22 agonizing years. Morris constantly asking himself what he did wrong. That moment of hurt turned into decades of obsession and grudges. Then, you walked into his company one day in spring, specifically March. You saw his face in Forbes magazine and knew this was your chance to make things right with him. You applied for the job of his secretary and secured your way of seeing him. Now, you're walking into his office, prepared to face him.

You knock on the door, and he tells you to come in.

"Hi, Mr. Masques, I'm your new secretary, Y/N," You say, looking into his now golden eyes.

His face is red, and he slams his fists on his desk.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why?! Why are you even here anyway???!! After what you did, you have some guts coming here!!!!" Morris yells, slamming his door shut. "........"

"I'm sorry. My parents made me stop being friends with you. They thought you were too close to me. Obsessed with me somehow. I tried to ignore you, thinking you'd stop the friendship by yourself. But you kept coming to my house asking to play, and my parents told me to stop our friendship the hard way. I'm so sorry for any pain or mental torment I caused you because of my parent's actions."

Tears flow down your face, makeup and mascara ruined.

"They won't bother you anymore. We moved to a new house after I stopped being friends with you."

"Y/N-"

"They're dead. There's no one else to fuck our old friendship even more but me!"

Morris sighs and brings you a tissue.

"Please go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. It's not fitting for a first day at work. Also, I'll think about your apology."

"Thank you."

After that, you and Morris had been able to keep yourselves from killing each other. Morris gave you loads of work, and you graciously accepted it, feeling like this was your punishment. Sometimes, you would work overtime until the wee hours of the morning. Then, wake up with a fancy, warm, cologne-infused jacket over your shoulders. You'd never know who it was. But by the time you left your desk, it'd be gone.

He hates me...I know he does. I deserve every ounce of hatred in his heart.

You diligently worked hard every day until Morris called you into his office as usual.

"Do you know why I called you in here?" Morris asks, his hands on his shiny, brown, wooden desk.

"To fire me?"

Morris laughs and takes your hands.

"Non, I'm taking you out for dinner for your hard work. A dinner with a billionaire? How about it?" Morris asks, looking happily into your eyes.

He doesn't hate me?

"Sure," You answer, smiling back at him.

After dinner, he began to treat you better. He smiled at you when you walked into his office. He made coffee for you. He even gave you a bonus after all the months of work. Then, in January, a rival company, Flor, offered you a job you couldn't resist. You could work as the CEO's secretary for $400,000 with a 5% bonus every year. Morris was only paying you $200,000.

"You should so take the job! You could move out of your apartment with that type of money," Your coworker, Cherise, says, talking to you in the elevator.

"Then I will. I'll submit my resignation form at the end of the day," You respond, walking to Morris's office.

"We'll make sure to throw you a going away party!" Cherise squeals, hugging you.

You open the door to Morris's office and see him happily sipping coffee.

"Morris, I've got good news. But you'll only see it at the end of the day. Call me when you see it," You whisper, confusing him.

"Ok..." Morris replies.

You end your shift and drive back home to cook your favorite meal. Morris is looking over the resignation documents and sees yours.

"What?! Why?" Morris yells, sitting in the dark. A lone lamp on his desk shining. "Reason for resignation: Another job offered me a higher salary."

He crumples the paper when he reads your comment.

"P.S. Flor offered me a 400k bonus with a 5% bonus every year. I can finally move out of my apartment with that salary. I'm thankful for all you've done for me while here. Thankful? Thankful, my ass! How dare she leave me for another man? Especially that Spaniard Santiago!"

Santiago Cruz, the handsome CEO of Flor. He's also had a longtime crush on you since college. Which is something he told Morris when he found out you were working for Morris.

"If you hate her so much, you can send a nice transfer to my company. We'd love to have her here," Santiago teased, hitting Morris on the shoulder.

That was six months ago. Now Morris has changed, and he doesn't want to lose you. Morris ran to his car and drove straight to your apartment. The rain pours onto his windshield, and his rage builds as he pulls into a parking garage. He walks up the stairs and peaks through your windows. Your silhouette appears in his vision, and he presses his ears on your door.

"Santiago, hi! I'm so glad you called!" You squeal, eager to talk with your new boss.

"Me too, mi corazón. So, have you decided to transfer here? Santiago flirts, hoping he can be with you. "Once you get to my company, I'll give you a personal tour."

"I'll be waiting for it."

Morris's mind ran wild.

She's leaving me! She's leaving me! She's leaving me! She's leaving me for him!

Morris pounds on your door, and you tell Santiago someone is at the door.

"Morris, oh my gosh, come inside. You're soaking wet!" You say, opening the door for your boss. "Why are you here in such bad weather?"

When you lock the door, Morris pushes you onto your bed.

"How dare you even attempt to leave me for him?" Morris yells, pinning your hands above your head.

"Santiago? All he did was offer me a job. It's not like I'm dating him or anything!" You yell back, making Morris's rage worse.

"Santiago wants you at his company so you can be his! He doesn't want you as a secretary. You said yes! You're leaving me again! I'm not letting you cruelly leave me again!"

"I'm not leaving you! We're still friends!"

"No, you're leaving me! You have to make it up to me. You have to."

Morris's tears fall onto your face, and you realize how much your words from years ago scarred him.

"Morris, of course, I'll make it up to you."

"Really? You will?"

"Yes."

Morris kisses you and leaves a trail of hickies on your neck as you squirm.

"Morris, what are you doing?!" You scream, trying to get him off you.

"I'm letting you make it up to me," Morris answers, unbuttoning your shirt and pressing the speaker button on your phone. "I hope you can hear me, Santiago."

"Morris, what are you doing to her?!" Santiago yells, getting ready to call the police.

Morris removes your bra and fondles your breasts. He puts his head between your breasts and motorboats himself.

"Morris~" You moan, your legs squirming underneath him.

"Yes, my sweet," Morris teases, looking up at you while kissing your stomach.

"Morris, stop it! She doesn't want you!" Santiago screams, closing the door to your car. "I swear when I get you, I'll kill you!"

"Go ahead," Morris replies, pulling down your shorts.

He pulls out his cock from his slacks and moves your underwear to the side. Morris rubs your pussy a little, then sticks his dick into you.

"Ah, Morris!" You moan, feeling a bit of pain.

"I know, bebe. I'll be gentle," Morris comforts, slowly thrusting into you.

He spreads your legs further apart and tries to put your legs into a mating press. Morris takes off his tie and ties your hands together over your head. He forcefully puts your legs into a mating press, then goes wild.

"Morris!" You moan, feeling his cock conquer your pussy.

Drool goes down your mouth, and Morris takes the opportunity to suck on your tongue. His penis releases its first round of cum, and it spills out of you as he continues to thrust inside you.

"You're going to be so plump with my babies! My babies! All mine!" Morris moans, coming close to his high.

"How long are you going to be in me?" You exclaim, your climax coming soon.

"I'm going to stay in you forever my little wife."

"Oh, God! I'm cumming!"

Morris cums a second time, releasing more semen than usual, and pulls out of you. He notices cum dripping out of your pussy and puts his cock back into you to stop the flow of cum. Morris lays his head on your breasts and unties your hands. You fall asleep from exhaustion.

20 minutes later, Santiago breaks into your apartment and goes into your room.

"Sh, Santiago. I don't want you to wake her up," Morris whispers, holding your naked body and stroking your hair.

"She's not yours. She was never interested in you that way," Santiago hisses, walking over to you.

"Well, you're certainly not having her. I'll raise her salary to a million dollars if I have to."

"And I'll make sure your company goes bankrupt and I buy you out."

"As if!"

You groan and turn in your sleep.

"Go into the living room, and we'll talk this out after I chain her up," Morris says, getting up from your bed.

Santiago angrily walks away, leaving you to sleep.

#yandere smut #yandere noncon #yandere dubcon #yandere billionaire #rich yandere #asks #yandere stalking #yandere stalker #impregnation kink

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 5 months

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Someone Worth Loving | Yandere!Imayoshi Shouichi

for anon who asked "in which a popular s/o was the crush of imayoshi in first year until there year, but s/o didn't want to be tie down so they just play around, and yan! imayoshi was a delusional to think that he's special. i think imayoshi will be very oc, so feel free to change something hehe. i love your writing style and works" this was fun to write, challenging but also a good chance to have a think about yandere!imayoshi further and outside my usual box for him. he's not particularly delusional here - i just can't see someone as socially aware and intelligent as ima being a delusional yandere. but i figured the combination of a) him not being a control freak and being pretty laidback; having that darker side, but also not wanting people to perceive him as evil unlike hanamiya + b) probable abandonment/grief issues after losing his mum + c) liking prim and proper girls = a more intriguing and unique yandere than i usually give him credit for. so thanks for the ask anon, and without further ado... content warning for slight explicit-ness. this is a yandere fic - it's not romance, and it's written accordingly.

It was love at first sight for Imayoshi.

On that fatal first day, you skipped through the doors of the Touou classroom that you would share with Imayoshi for the next three years, holding hands with a ‘friend’ you had befriended just minutes prior (whom, Imayoshi already understood, would be forgotten about as soon as someone more suitable appeared to take her place), asking her where they should sit.

The other girl pointed to two empty desks near the front. That was when you let go of her hand.

“I just have to sit by the windows,” you said, not at all apologetically, as if it was a given, not even sparing a second glance at the girl beside you - her eyes a little wide, almost a touch teary as she realised that she was already being demoted to rank of Friendless First Year.

There was only one seat left near the windows. They’d have to split up. And the remaining chair was by fellow first year Imayoshi, who was pulling a pen out his backpack, pondering whether to ignore you or put on a show of bored confidence and do introductions.

As he pondered, you sat down beside him. Your knee briefly pressed against his. Then panicked, pulled away. You looked around the classroom as if you were ignoring your seatmate by accident, just curious about all the new faces. You had felt the sparks too.

It took only this long - just those few seconds - for Imayoshi to stumble across realisations that would affect the rest of his life.

(1) For all that confidence you showed off - confidence that, as you grew older, would become glam and men double your age wrapping their arms around your shoulders - you were an insecure coward like the crowds of girls who looked up to you from the distance.

(2) Imayoshi was feeling something. At the time, he called it curiosity; it would take later introspections for it to be correctly labelled as love.

Not that there was much reason to love you, at the beginning anyway. Though the two of you talked often, quick conversations in at least a couple classes a day, they were nothing but the usual seatmate discussions. You, an idiot, had cottoned onto the fact that Imayoshi was breezing through every class. You put on your usual batting-eyelashes persona, cutesy obsequiousness (“I’m so sorry to bother you again, but for number 13...”) punctuated with meaningless sweet-nothings (“Honestly, Shouichi, you’re the best. I love you.”), and who was he to deny your requests for help?

Of course, with anyone else, Imayoshi would have gotten fed up by now - the occasional question was fine, but in almost every lesson? - yet it was cute how you thought you could rely on him. Like you seriously believed that him talking you through integrating exponentials meant you could trust him.

When he’d walk into the classroom at break, while you were sat gossiping with all your girlfriends (an ever-expanding plague of copycats, B-rate versions of you), they’d all stop talking but you.

You’d say, “don’t worry about him - that’s my bestie, Shouichi. He’s literally saving my grade right now.”

And then everyone would go back to gossiping, and you’d flash him a quick smile, and Imayoshi would never comment on how he technically hadn’t given you permission to use his first name, or on how it was so fucking stupid of you to dismiss him as the nerd who let you copy his answers sometimes. Like he didn’t have ears; like he was just one of your pawns; like he didn’t own you.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. Maybe. But Imayoshi did in fact have ears, and he was a being with agency who overheard plenty of gossip and rumours, gossip that could destroy your sweet little reputation - not to mention your relationship with your parents - if he so chose. The fact that he didn’t was chivalry in action. Anyone else would have faced his bored wrath - he’d already manipulated a few rumours such that you had discarded one of your close friends on account of them.

Yet, for the time being, he was content letting you bathe in the sunlight.

After all, he couldn’t have his future wife kicked out of school for being a pathetic, needy slut who couldn’t let a party finish without having at least slammed her lips on at least one total stranger.

If you got expelled, you wouldn’t be in the yearbook. And then what would the two of you reminisce over, twenty years from now, cuddling on the sofa?

So he tried to be content with observing you, playing his part as the polite nerd, and it worked for over a year. There were highs (you cheering him on during the final basketball match in your first year); there were lows (you had brought some brainless baseball jock to the match). But Imayoshi endured. Imayoshi took his time. Imayoshi let you gush over how happy you were to be sitting next to him again in your second year - “you’re my guardian angel, Shou-chan”. Imayoshi turned a blind eye to the partying and the boys, who lingered by the classroom door hoping to catch sight of you, and the never-ending stream of friends, and the way you’d smile at him like you adored him, only to switch it off as soon as the class was over. As soon as you had no more use for him.

Imayoshi, mature for his age, understood that he couldn’t make you who he wanted you to be overnight. Unfortunately, it seemed that girls like you just had to go through this phase.

It was in the third year that things went downhill.

When it rains, it pours. On the first day of term, you hadn’t greeted him when you entered the classroom, too busy texting frantically on your phone, a new fluffy pink keychain dangling from it that didn’t match any of your girl friends’ and so had to be a gift from a stranger.

Imayoshi had greeted you, of course.

But when you had looked up briefly to smile and say hi back, he had been demoted: "Shouichi" instead of "Shou-chan".

You were working harder than before too. Suddenly, the two of you were working in silence side by side, your hair falling over your face, hiding it from Imayoshi. You never once tucked it behind your ear to ask Imayoshi for the answers to the next section. You just sat and wrote away, like you fancied yourself the best in the class now. Clearly, you’d been studying over the holiday. Fine. Good even - Imayoshi couldn’t marry a complete fool, even an obedient housewife needed some brains. But to reject him because of it? Discard him like all the other toys you got bored of using?

He felt his anger swell and spin in a strength of feeling he had not known since his mother died. Murder occurred to him; abduction no longer seemed unreasonable. He tucked away duct tape and rope and sleeping pills in a shelf his sister could not reach, locked it for good measure, and spent his nights tossing and turning and questioning his own identity.

He heard rumours you were in trouble. Kicked out the house, financial issues, an abortion: almost everything got mentioned. Someone had a friend whose mum was a cop, and apparently you’d been visiting the police station following a domestic violence case, a prostitution case, or maybe just a mugging. The specifics were unclear and frequently changed, but Imayoshi took sight of the bruises on your neck and arms, just visible under layers of concealer, and on he went pondering.

He would never get the truth out of you directly, no. These days, whenever he entered the classroom at break, you and your few remaining trusted friends whispered until he left. The trust was gone; and the gossip no longer appropriate for male ears to hear.

A complete stranger would have been treated in the same way. A stranger.

He’d put so much work into you, spent two years as a loyal servant, letting you feel smug and superior, and this was what he fucking got for it?

"Imayoshi was not rash," he told himself.

"Imayoshi wants to be rash," his reflection parroted back to him.

“Imayoshi?” called Susa, nudging him in the middle of a study session, “you okay?”

“Tired,” replied Imayoshi, realising that the page in front of him was still empty.

He smiled an easy smile, and forced the thought of you out of his mind before he snapped his pencil in two.

----

And “he’s tired” was what Susa repeated when Harasawa, fiddling with his hair, asked why Imayoshi acting a bit out of it today.

The coach glanced at Imayoshi with critical eyes, and saw a stranger in him. “Do you want to take a break?”

“I’ll be alright.“ Imayoshi forced the familiar grin across his lips yet again. “Some match play will wake me up.”

The last thing he needed was some time away from basketball. For every minute he wasn’t concentrating on the game, he was thinking of you smiling at male ‘friends’, you cuddling up with police officers, you flirting with strangers on the street, you and that miniskirt you wore everywhere outside of school and the men who would stare and you feeding into their attraction, and they’d put a hand around your waist and let their fingers slip underneath your tights, and they’d murmur “hotel?” to you, and you’d rub up against them and-

Sakurai passed the ball to Imayoshi, and the captain dribbled and felt a moment’s peace. He passed it back to Wakamatsu, standing ready under the hoop-

You’d be pulling off your clothes real slow, really teasing them, and they’d be touching and licking and sucking on that skin that belonged to Imayoshi alone. They’d throw you to the bed; you squeal, maybe whimper at the big bad man standing in front of you. God you’d be noisy, slut that you are - you wouldn’t talk to Imayoshi any more but you wouldn’t shut up for these salarymen (why did Momoi have to mention that word on the street was you were in the JK business now? If hearing of you being with classmates wasn’t torture enough!), even when you were gagging you’d be crying out, tears in your eyes, and maybe they beat you, maybe they ground into you until you couldn’t walk, your underwear ripped, miniskirt stained around your hip, lying hopelessly on a bed in an empty room, your skin littered with both hickeys and bruises.

Maybe you’d pray for a better life. The audacity to pray having spent all these years betraying him.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” muttered Susa in the changing room, briefly squeezing his friend's shoulder.

Imayoshi looked around feeling like he’d awoken from a nightmare.

Everyone but Imayoshi had long finished changing out of their kit. People were talking, laughing, bouncing a spare basketball against the wall. Aomine, despite being a known virgin, was proudly announcing his list of the easiest lays in the school. Your name came in at number two. And before Imayoshi could ask Aomine how he knew that if all he spent his free time doing was jerking off to magazine pages, Wakamatsu interjected.

Wakamatsu told Aomine not to talk about you like that.

Wakamatsu was blushing.

"You fucking siren," murmured Imayoshi under his breath, thinking of the way you used to bat your eyelashes at him.

Something about the blonde made Imayoshi see mistakes like never before. God himself couldn’t have made it any clearer. Imayoshi had let you run wild for too long, and in your own sickness you had diseased everyone else too. You had brought shame to yourself, and - worse - to the Imayoshi name that you would one day take on as your own.

It was time to remind you to whom you belonged. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too late to make you an honourable housewife, an obedient little dog.

“You still there?” said Susa with a little more concern, nudging Imayoshi again.

“Don’t worry,” and this time Imayoshi didn’t need to force that closed-eye, cruel grin. “I’ve got something to sort out, and then I’ll be back to normal.”

He would teach you that he had never been your toy.

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seth-burroughs · 5 months

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Yomi blue hair era doodles I like to have fun sometimes. he's like 18 in this. he should be griefing a minecraft server not joining the cops Yomi you need to listen to me boy you're gonna go down some fucking pipeline if- aaand he's gone. whatever i'll support him nonetheless, have fun lil guy hope ur life will be better/different somehow<33

#mine #doodle tag #rain code #yomi hellsmile #Kanai Ward's 29th most malicious teenager #List of things I want to put Yomi in: a blender. a washing machine. the back of my truck. therapy. a trash bag. the Yomi drawer. the #key features: christmas tree hair. yandere hair strands. prey animal eyes. looks like he saw god and it became a touchy subject.#TERRIBLE fashion he only improves at his only good trait of being eye candy and nothing else once he became a billionaire PK dictator.#didn't get a binder yet so his breasts are very visible. if you bring it up he kills you with his bare hands #has like a lot of body moles too but I didn't feel like drawing it for a sketch sooo not visible here.#<- notes for me. carry on do not mind

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kakusu-shipping · 4 months

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🕯️and🎁 for Maximillien?

Yeah robot billionaire!!! Thankyou very much!!!

Asks from Here

🕯️ - How do they feel about punishing you?

He's not above it, per say, but he does find it rather unnecessary. Even if I do something he doesn't like, hang off of someone else (mostly Ramattra), or fall off schedule, or get the nice new clothes he just had tailored for me stained, I'm usually quick to recognize my mistake, correct it, and apologize... Usually. (I can be pretty dense about how close I am to other people sometimes)

He's also much quicker to make it someone else's fault than he is to blame me, or put it as part of my charming nature, something he'd hate to ruin by punishing it. So what if I'm a little too affectionate with other people? It's part of my charm.

Rather than punishing me he's much more likely to make a show of ownership, some sort of claim over to to hold over another person who I was just a little to close with for his liking.

🎁 - What about rewards? Do they reward you, and if so, how?

Maximillien's always been a gift giver. He's a strong believer in the ability to buy one's love, and I am no exception.

Though a lot of what an outsider would think of as Gifts are actually more for himself than for me. New clothes, fancy jewelry, nice dates out at fancy restaurants, the sort of high class living most anyone dreams of, it's all for him, as a show that I am his and he can out bid anyone in a room for my affections, so no one else should even try.

Instead when he truly wants to reward me, he'll lean into my obsession with Omnic construction. New Manuals, tools, work, things to fiddle with, to take apart and put back together. Things to learn from.

He even once got permissions to take me to an Omnium. It had long sense shut down, of course, and had already been looted and picked clean. It was even set for demolition, though there were protestors claiming it a historic monument. The building wasn't safe, we weren't able to go deep in or wander around too much, it was collapsing and full of graffiti and broken junk, but it was so beautiful to me.

He ended up making a donation to the local government to have the place restored and turned into a museum! It's under construction now and we're already invited to it's grand opening!

#Thankyou for asking #Maximillien #Yandere #He's very possessive but other than that he's rather harmless #But he IS a billionaire which adds a whole other layer #I love Max he's kind of pathetic wet blanket #He's also a show off and in it for himself mostly #And I love him <3 #He puts up with my affections for Ramattra because he's my BROTHER Max can't I hug on and hang out with my brother 🥺?#Ramattra on the flip side does NOT put up with Max he does not like him or how he controls me around #Anyway I love him. He is incredibly sexy <3

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yandere-daze · 1 year

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I want to beat his guy into a pulp

#played this game yesterday #definitely not what I expected #but I actually quite liked it #Recommend playing the game and going in completely blind!#but also #this fucking guy I swear to god #why does he have such a grip on my brain today #justin #billionaire lovers #when twisting someone into a yandere would likely make them a better partner djdjd #Maybe #maybe I should do that even if literally no one is going to want to read that

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tweedstoat · 23 days

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#suicide tw #but also yeah like 'oh the vaccine is gonna kill u or let billionaires microchip you'#promises promises #im still alive and i dont have a yandere billionaire GPS tracking me #when will it be my turn

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cult-of-husbandos · 8 months

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yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

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2smolbeans · 2 months

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Sad yandere scenario again based on my two ocs April and Hyun (god these two angsty men that I love sm):

No one ever talks about the darling in most of these yandere situations being in love with their obessessor. All the time their always running away in fear, despising them, wanting nothing to do with them. How their lives would've been better if their 'lover' had never taken them in the first place.

But what if it was the opposite? What if this darling was so in love with their obessessor but couldn't accept the murders and lives their crush destroyed. What would that say about them? They can't let those lives go in vain.

So their caught up in this moral debate within themselves that's so painful. They love them so much that they can't imagine anyone else loving them like they do. Their insecurities often get to the best of them, the self loathing that can only be comforted by them often acts as a temptation for the darling to just instantly melt into their arms.

Why couldn't they be evil like them? Why couldn't they be selfish and ignore what they've done? Why did they have to kill and torture all those people?

Those thoughts always flip from grief to hatred.

They want them dead. It's not fair that they have to suffer. They have to avenge those people, it's their fault that their dead.

It's always a chase of cat and mouse. But the yandere doesn't even have to try that hard. All they have to do is just continue to be all sweet and loving- that alone is enough to torture the darling to spiral down.

"You love me, and it's painful for you to keep running away. So just stop torturing yourself..Please."

"But I won't force you to do anything, it's always up to you."

But it never is. No matter how much they give them space, no matter how many times they let them go- they really don't have a choice in the end.

In the end, this darling does run away like the rest of the other typical darlings. But not because of their fear and undesire for their obessessor, but rather because of the fact that they can not handle the grief that comes with mouring the death of someone they thought they knew and loved.

I mean, you can't lie. Wouldn't you be devasted if the person you absolutely adored and loved for so long turned out to be a mask or an illusion?

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on-leatheredwings · 2 months

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False Pretenses (18+)

Yandere ! Damian Wayne x (Fem) Reader

romantic, 18+ > summary: Damian needs an heir someday, and he knows your body can provide that. > tw/cw: stealthing/baby trapping. there is consensual sex under false pretenses, so this could (and should) make this fall under dub- or non-con! there is also a brief mention of somnophilia. Plus, some breeding kink, praise kink. Also some weird thoughts about (cis) women who are fertile being ‘ideal’ and a preference for biological children. Just a warning. > word count: 5088. jesus christ. > [a/n: (smokes a blunt). ] > again 18+ only, damian wayne is 21

So, Damian has a breeding kink.

You sit in bed (his bed), knees to your chest, trying not to smile.

The covers are wrapped around your bare body as you recall the night prior’s events.

Last night was the farthest you two have gone physically. You’ve made out, of course. That was in short order after officially becoming a couple, the both of you starved for the other. You’ve groped each other, both over and under your clothes… You’ve given him a handjob… (To his utter dismay that you’ve brought him to orgasm first rather than the reverse.) And last week, you took him in your mouth for the first time. But yesterday night was the first time you had been on the receiving end.

Now, you are no virgin, but the memory does make you clutch your metaphorical pearls. You didn’t know simple fingering could be so… perverse.

Damian’s two middle fingers are thrusting back and forth into your trembling cunt. Your ears are steaming at the resulting noises filling the air. They’re lewd, and entirely involuntary on your part. Sweat on your temple drips, your torso heaves with shaken breath. Your damp back lies flush against his hard chest, two perfect puzzle pieces. Damien’s chin rests on your shoulder, allowing him to have a beautiful view of the mess you’re making on his slender digits. Viridian eyes have their entire focus on you, utterly fascinated.

The look in them is enough to make you blush, even if two of his fingers weren’t in you right now.

Sinful, reverent whispers into the shell of your ear marvel about how well you’re doing, how prepared you’ll be to take him afterwards. Damian’s free hand rests on your abdomen, pointedly over your womb.

He’ll fill you. Breed you. After all, you can handle that. You were basically made for it. He knows you’d be perfect at it.

Chin resting on the palm of your hand, you come back to the present.

Yeah, that was really turning him on, you mull, with almost academic interest. Your lips curl into a catlike grin. How curious!

Hey, you aren’t judging! You can see the appeal. After all, you hadn’t exactly been complaining last night… just caught off guard.

You sit with your thoughts as Damian washes up in his restroom.

It is in his bedroom you currently lounge, absentmindedly fiddling with satin sheets. His bed is large enough to drown in. His room is a wash of dark emerald greens and deep blues, with golden accents. On a table sits a sheathed sword, its grip a beautiful gold.

Both of you are college students finishing up your last semester. During the school season, Damian stays in his penthouse. Yes, his penthouse. Why he couldn’t just stay at his billionaire father’s mansion, you don’t know. Bird has to leave the nest sometime, you suppose.

Slowly lowering your knees and letting your back hit cool sheets, you lie down. You get lost in the ceiling – a beautiful Arabesque pattern is subtly molded across its expanse. Damian’s culture is so cool. Such was a sentiment you had communicated in such words, and he simply kissed your knuckles with a proud curve of his lips, and thanked you for the compliment. You blush.

Ugh. Damian is so cool.

You start pulling up every uncool thing about him in your mental reservoir. You can’t have him getting a big head, after all. Or rather, can’t have his head getting any bigger.

Hmm… breeding kinkster, breeding kinkster, thy name is Damian Wayne.

You blink dumbly.

Breeding... breeding…

Pregnancy.

Your body stiffens.

Wait. Does this… does that mean something? Is that like. A thing? What people call foreshadowing? You sit up, disturbed.

At that exact moment, Damian saunters out of the washroom. His eyes catch yours immediately, as if drawn by magnetism. He is still shirtless, navy blue sweatpants looking entirely artful on his tall, bronze body. His usual shrewd expression relaxes at the sight of you.

At the sight of him, your heart skips a beat, and not out of admiration for his looks. It was like you had been caught red-handed, speculating things. Sometimes you swear he knows what you’re thinking.

He stalks toward you, eyes loving. He places a kiss on your lips, punctuating it with “Good morning, my love.”

“G-good morning,” you return, painfully aware of your nakedness under his sheets. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He places kisses on your bare shoulder, trailing down until he’s kissing your hand. While normally you’d be melting, you remain stiff.

Damian pecks one last kiss when you blurt, “Do you want kids?”

You inwardly smack your forehead. Well, you weren’t one to shy away from a tough conversation. For better or worse.

Damian stirs, blinking at you.

You continue, trying not to wilt, “Do… Do you want kids? I-is that something you want? Like, someday?”

How the hell did this not come up sooner, you don’t know.

… Well.

Perhaps it hadn’t come up because your relationship was fairly new. You’ve known Damian for five years now. And for the last two, your relationship had been under a taxing, soul-sucking ‘will-they-won’t-they-it’s-complicated’ vague denomination for quite a while. Both of you knew each of you had feelings for the other. But Damian confessing his vigilante secret and his assassin past was quite the double whammy.

Damian was resolute in keeping you and himself safe and alive, but you had to think critically about a future with him. Eventually you said fuck it, throwing caution to the wind because you loved him, and you wanted him. And he, you.

Officially, it’s only been three months of dating – and you both are young. You both are in your last year of college. Talking about kids felt … fast.

Damian remains silent, face tentative. Having been leaning over you, he now sits on his bed, looking thoughtful.

“... Is that something you want?”

You sigh. Of course he’d turn it on you.

“I…” Your throat feels tight. God, why can’t we just enjoy a damn honeymoon phase… “I mean…? I’m… open to it. But yeah, it seems kinda… Like. I don’t know. That’s a lot right now.” Your voice is uncharacteristically small and meek.

You should stop there. Keep it vague. Keep things light. But you know which side of the fence you’re leaning on, and so should he.

“A-and you know– like, you know I didn’t have a good relationship with my mother– I just. Don’t know. If ever. I guess?”

You sit in awkward silence with him. You pray God just decides to smite you where you sit, because Christ. That was horrible.

Things like this could break a relationship, you know. And your chest clenches painfully at the thought of separating from Damian.

Damian takes in your words, nodding. He’s usually so easy to read – you’re well-versed in Wayne-nese by now, having spent a lot of time with him and the rest of his family. But he seems to be withholding his inner thoughts intentionally from you. Your heart sinks.

You nudge him with your feet.

“Damiii. Do you?”

Damian’s eyes glimmer with characteristic haughtiness, instantly making you warm. He crawls forward, hands sinking into the bed by your hips. He nips at your nose before locking lips. It’s a sweet, sweet kiss that’s like candy, until you feel the stroke of his hot tongue. You moan freely, not caring that he’ll likely tease you later for being so easy.

He retreats, licks his lips.

“You fiend,” you blurt. The insult rolls off him.

“What I want is to be with you.” You swallow dryly, heart thumping like a chorus line. You wouldn’t be surprised if Damian could see literal hearts in your eyes.

He puts a hand on your knee, stroking softly. You feel mollified at the action. Damian only did that when everything was alright.

“We’ve got class. If you get dressed fast enough, I’ll buy you that confectionary you’re always wanting.”

You stick out your tongue. “It’s a frappe,” you say, adding before he could say otherwise, “and yes, it is real coffee.”

Back from class, you decided to read on his living room recliner while he drew in his study. Damian indeed sketched, as he did everyday. Unsurprisingly, you were the subject, along with your favorite flowers. But Damian chose his study, rather than drawing you from life, because he also wanted to check if today was the day he thought it was. He opens the drawer of his wooden desk, papers neatly filed. He picks up a sleek black folder that spends most of its time laid in hiding underneath.

…

So, for the record, Damian did not lie.

He merely obfuscated an answer with a truth.

He does want to be with you above anything, and if children were out of the question due to natural causes… sure, he would learn to get over it. His brothers are all adopted and are as legitimate heirs to his father as he. But as it stands, Damian needs an heir someday and he knows your body can provide that.

… A not-insignificant part of him quietly admits that he simply wants his children to be blood-related. He’d never express this to anyone. His brothers are adopted, so how could he? But instilled from infancy into Damian was that he was the result of two genetically perfect individuals.

So why shouldn’t his child be the genetic amalgamation of you and him, both of whom are also two perfect beings? The thought of impregnating you sounds… good. Ideal. Natural, even. Call him a romantic.

When opened, inside the folder is a calendar for the year, with no notes or writing. Some days are blank. Some are highlighted in either red or green.

His eyes skirt down to the current day of the calendar, and Damian's pleased to see it is indeed among a week that's painted in green. You've ovulated, and the six days afterward are an ideal window.

You've said in passing that your cycle is pleasantly regular and Damian's past investigations have proved this to be true. Not that he asks anymore. He snorts, remembering how last time you looked at him incredulously and asked if he was a Republican, since he was “all up in your womb.”

However, you do keep menstrual products in your bag when he’s predicted it. You also spend quite some time at his place, so he does note when there’s pad wrappers in his bathroom trash bin.

Last year, the day he knew you were the one – his One – he brewed you a tea before bed. Its sedative contents ensured you wouldn't wake, and you were out like a light within minutes. So, Damian pulled off your pants, and collected a specimen from you as you slept. Of course, he did so with sterile, sexless precision – Damian wasn’t a pervert or deviant. He sniffs. He’s better than that. Even if his hands did linger.

Test results proved you were healthy and fertile. He recalls this with pride. As expected, you were perfect in all things. Damian closes the folder and ruminates in his seat.

Damian had assumed so, but now you’ve confirmed with him that you’re unsure about raising children based on your history with your own family. He hears you. As if he doesn’t have his own slew of mommy problems. If you bring it up again, he’ll wave you off. You’ll be an amazing mother. You just need a push, and you’ll be confident soon enough.

His fingers steeple. Hm… There’s the issue of having children before marriage… He doesn’t know how you feel about children outside of wedlock, but it’s not as though you’re very traditional. You don’t seem to have a problem with the fact that’s how he was conceived. It’s not a big concern regardless, because Damian is going to marry you anyway. If it’s an issue, you both could marry in as soon as a month.

It all works out.

It’s perfect, he thinks.

Damian puts up his sketchbook and folder alike, heading to his bedroom to change. It was about time he put his plans into action, and he knows just how to usher it into fruition.

“That doesn’t look like a very satisfying read,” Damian says, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

You don’t look up from your book, your cringing face only deepening.

“Well, that’s because it isn’t. I was lied to! By my favorite Youtuber! By BookTok! And fuck it, by the government–”

"My love."

“You ask for one slow burn rivals-to-lovers and instead you get him fawning over her within three chapters–”

“My love,” he repeats, though amused.

“And let’s not even start about how this prose is abysmal–”

“My love.”

Since it was said oh-so-sweetly, you look up from your book.

Damian is... oh. He's in that outfit he knows you like. The League of Assassins one that's sleeveless, dark, and form fitting with gorgeous gold trim. It turns his body into a marvelous painting of black and gold on the tanned backdrop that is his skin. And you’ve told him so… Except his eyes. His beautiful, intense green eyes. He straightens from how he leans against the wall, stepping closer.

You toss your book, not even watching its trajectory. It takes out a vase on the way down and you still don’t spare it a glance.

"Damian Wayyyyyne," you sing, hopping up to stalk toward your prey. Your hands land on his chest. Hello, tig ol' biddies, you cheer internally. It takes considerable restraint to keep from saying it aloud – you know Damian gets all flustered with his delicate sensibilities. “Why, are you trying to seduce me?”

An elegant, thick brow rises in amusement. Well, that was exceedingly easier than expected.

“That depends entirely on whether it’s working.”

“Oh, it’s working,” you say, running your hands down to his abdomen. His hands rise to capture yours.

“Tt.”

Damian takes steps backward, leading you by the hands into his bedroom. Your leer grows even bigger. Oh, yes. You two lock eyes the whole while until you reach the foot of his bed, merriment and attraction dancing in both pairs.

You push him onto the bed, on all fours above him. You dive down for a deep kiss, tongue eager for a dance. Eventually it’s you who separates to breathe, panting lightly. The sight below you is one for sore eyes, Damian Wayne lying with eyes glazed with lust. He’s acting awfully agreeable, and you can’t say you don’t like it.

“Habibti, I want you.” Damian slides his hand to cup your crotch. You shiver, at his touch and his words.

“And you have me,” you say, voice warm. “Habibti.”

He smirks, probably thinking your accent could use some work.

“It’s Habibi, coming from you.”

You nod shyly, but you can have a lesson later. You’re about to slip off your pants when he brings your hand in between your bodies, placing it on his crotch. You sharply inhale. He’s hard, and straining against sinful, elastic tights.

“... And I mean, I want all of you.”

Your brows rise. So, he wanted to go all the way today? You feel your cheeks and crotch flood with heat. You find it easier to nod your head rapidly, lest you start barking. At your agreement, Damian’s face washes over with anticipation. You’re glad it’s not just you over the moon at the prospect.

You both rip your clothes off manically, laughing and elbows butting into each other’s sides. Damian expertly flips positions, boxing you in with his knees. You exclaim in surprise, a sound that drifts into shaky breaths and mewls of pleasure as he runs his fingers over your breasts, your stomach… He wets his fingers with his mouth before his digits start circling your clitoris.

You inhale sharply, mesmerized by the cyclical motion. Never until Damian has sex felt so flustering. Just watching his administrations was overwhelming, let alone the feeling– Your head reels back from an electric shock of pleasure. You gasp into the air.

"W-wait... wait, you have a condom, right…?" you whisper, though you have half a mind to just go without. You need him.

Damian tensed.

"I... I don't like how it feels." You raise a brow. You've heard condoms can feel like a second skin, especially nowadays. Then again, men were always complaining about them. It's not like you had the necessary equipment to confirm, so hell if you knew how it felt.

You place your hands on his cheeks, and his hands ghost over your wrists. You bite your lip.

"Well… Just this once? And if... it's that important to you, maybe I'll get on birth control–"

His head jerks as if struck, his brows furrowed.

“No.”

You stare, agape. There’s a small pause, both of you staring at the other. Damian’s face looks as though he’s betrayed himself. Your boyfriend didn’t strike you as so… traditionalist, to say the least. Lord knows you wouldn’t be with him if he was… so you will hear him out before nurturing any suspicion.

Sitting up on your forearms, you ask, “... What do you mean ‘no’?”

"I mean… I…” Damian sighs, looking utterly frustrated with himself. “I mean, you don’t need to.”

You blink and raise a brow, unimpressed.

“... Because?”

Damian’s jaw hardens. He grits out, “Because, I'm… sterile."

You flinch, purely from surprise. Damian merely stares, eyes narrowed in what you presume is annoyance at himself.

Uh. Okay, hello brand new information? Why hadn't this come up before? Well, it is pretty sensitive information. And since you hadn’t had penetrative sex yet, why would he have brought it up? And today was the first day you had even thought about kids. It… makes sense.

"Y-you are...?" You settle down, much like a cat whose hair is lowering from standing on end. "Okay… okay...” Damian remains stony, but he cringes at your clear relief.

Mistaking it as embarrassment, you quickly stroke his cheek. “No, baby, I'm sorry about that." You could assume it's quite emasculating. Men and their complexes about performing and wow, suddenly the breeding kink makes sense.

“So, you can’t…” you trail off. Knock me up? remains gracefully unsaid.

Damian nods stiffly. He really does hate lying to you like this. "I've been told it's very... unlikely." In reality, Damian knows his sperm count, and he's verified there should be no issues with reproduction. You both are in peak condition.

Despite the heat raging in your pants and your body begging can we just fuck already, you furrow your brows. All of this sounded fine, but it was still just… you needed specifics. To be safe. After all, there’s no rush, is there? Even if your pulsating cunt would beg to differ, painfully aware that two naked people were in a bed not doing naked-people-things.

"When did you get tested? And w-why? I mean, you're only twenty-one."

He waves his hand, snorting with his typical condescension. "I'm an heir to a dynasty – as soon as I was of age, it behooved us to know."

Us. That’s not a you-and-me “us”. You cringe, thinking about Talia and Ra's Al Ghul making it their business to know Damian's fertility. What an invasion of privacy for him… And no wonder he thought nothing of being in your body’s business as well.

"Well, unlikely is still possible, right?” You fear any surprises. Lord knows it would be just your luck to get fertilized by the un-fertilizable. You point at him. “And we should be using condoms anyway! It's not just pregnancy we should be afraid of."

Damian wants to assure you how insanely low the chances are of an infertile male getting anybody pregnant, and is about to do so, when his eyes narrow.

"Is there a reason we would need to protect against venereal diseases? There are none between the two of us." You flinch at his tone, colored with the acidity of jealousy. Suspicion.

The implication (accusation?) causes you to glare at him.

“...Yeahhh, okay,” you reply coldly. “Moment's ruined.”

You push him off you, but in a panic, he hisses your name. You flinch. At your wary expression, the color drains from his face.

“I… I’m sorry,” he says, brows furrowed and looking utterly ashamed. “I… I’m sorry.” You don’t meet his eyes, simply nodding. He places kisses on your wrist, shoulder, nose. Damian sometimes had his moods, although he was truly confusing you today.

“It’s fine, really,” you reassure. And it’s true, it was mainly the heat of the moment. You were sure Damian could never really scare you.

Your words don’t persuade the shame and fear out of his eyes or lighten the heaviness of his brow. You smile, huffing. Taking his face into your heads, you kiss him chastely on the forehead, nose tip, both cheeks. Until you punctuate the action with a kiss to his lips.

“Damian, really.”

Damian nods stiffly. He’ll never truly forgive himself, but he’s probably okay enough for now.

You shift on the bed, and there’s the telltale sensitivity between your thighs. Damn it. You still want him. You two stare at each other, still very naked and aroused. You turn the idea in your head … He’s sterile, right? And pregnancy is your only reservation.

As if hearing your thoughts, Damian’s face fills with determination.

“... I-it’s–” okay, let’s have sex anyway, you are going to finish.

“I’ll do it,” he interrupts. You blink. He leans toward you, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. You’re sure he’s about to kiss you, when he suddenly withdraws.

Your eyes catch the glimmer of some metallic object. He holds a silver square wrapper in between his fingers, likely plucked from beneath his pillow.

You look at him, and he says frankly, “I’ll do anything for you.”

You melt… before grinning, catlike. “My, my. So it seems Mr. I-Don’t-Like-Condoms still prepares a contingency plan. Very Son of Batman of you–”

“Shut it,” he groans, dotting kisses along your neck to make you do just that.

You feel relief flood your bloodstream. Then it is quickly replaced with raging desire. Oh, finally.

“Lay back,” he says, too soft to be an order. You do so without fanfare, a little curious as to why he’s not following you. Then you see him scoot back, feel him hike up your lower half, and you feel a thrill of excitement.

You squeak, feeling your ass leaving the bed entirely. A pillow is quickly placed underneath, and you are feeling quite pampered.

There’s curious licks along your labia, to which you twitch.

Damian finds his way to your clitoris, suckling and stroking heavily with his tongue.

“Hhnngh,” you speak. Keep going. Right there.

“Truly, a poet,” Damian’s voice says, muffled. You bite your lip, unable to retort because it feels too good. Damian is curious, experimenting. You know he’s gamifying this, responding and changing his strategies entirely on what draws the most unintelligible noise out of you. He slips his tongue in, and you grasp at his hair. He responds by pumping it back and forth.

Eventually, you do fear he’ll bring you to orgasm with this alone, when you both have more plans for the evening.

You wipe a layer of sweat from your temple, panting. “I’m ready. I’m ready,” you say, tugging meekly at short black locks.

Damian hums, and the vibration hits you straight in the clit. He sits up on his forearms, lips delightfully messy. His cheeks are ruddy and his brows are pinched with effort, chest heaving for breath. He looks very good like this.

“I’m ready,” you say again. Damian doesn’t need to be told twice. Your head hits the back of the pillow, and you close your eyes as you catch your breath. You hear the rustling and discarding of a condom wrapper. Damian positions himself accordingly, hands sunk into the bed on either side of your waist.

“Ready?” he asks. His eyes hold… shyness, if you can believe it. You stroke his cheek, grinning.

“Always ready for you,” you respond. You make sure to sit up. You want to see.

You watch, fascinated, as the head of Damian’s cock slowly disappears into your body. The consonance between seeing it and feeling it only stokes the fire of your arousal.

You moan openly, the sound making your ears heat. Damian dares to chuckle, and you claw his back in retaliation.

“Oh, shut up, and go deeper,” you breathe, eyes fluttering with pleasure. You didn’t realize how much you missed this. The feeling of being filled, of being full. You didn’t realize you could miss something you never had as well – Damian felt like he belonged in you. You feel every inch of you work to accommodate his sudden presence.

“And how can I deny such a request?” he gasps aloud, voice strained.

You feel more than a little pride that you were among the few who could make Damian bend to your whims with this (or any) level of subservience. The proud, proud Damian Wayne. The same Damian that sinks into you further, into your tight, hot wetness. He finally bottoms out and you exhale.

“You’re… a perfect… fit,” you say, dazed and in between pants.

Little do you know the resulting pang that shoots into his groin at that statement. He grasps you harder, maybe even enough to bruise. He needs you badly. He needs to fill you badly.

Damian leans even more forward, and you squeal. You’re just along for the ride at this point. He does all the necessary machinations to fold you in half, thighs bending back.

"W-wait," you stutter, but it falls on deaf ears.

He’s really stretching the limits of your flexibility here. Before you know it, you’re in a mating press.

“Damian,” you moan, because you’re too overstimulated to say much else.

“You’re perfect,” he says into the shell of your ear. “You can take this. You were made for this.” You nod, slack-jawed. He rocks into you, skin slapping against skin as your pelvises meet. Your eyes flutter and roll back.

“I could spend forever filling you up. I could spend forever watching it spill out of you.”

You close your eyes, cheeks aflame, much too embarrassed by his perverse whispers. You feel … almost ashamed at how much it arouses you. Almost. Majorly, it’s fulfilling a dark fantasy you didn’t know you liked.

“... Come inside me,” you breathe, unable to say anything more. You were embarrassed enough. He was using a condom, it was assumed he would be. But hopefully he’d see you were participating in his little fantasy, that you liked it too…

His thrusts are unyielding, and they only get harder, faster, more desperate as the time passes. Damian finishes with a groan, his abs clenching and flexing with effort.

You welcome it, taking it all because he’s right, you were made for this. In this moment, it’s like you were entirely made for this.

To your surprise, there’s sudden stroking on your throbbing clit, and that brings you to the finish line as well.

Your head jerks back violently, body snapping to attention as you ride the wave of an orgasm. A gasp by your ear. You’re clenching around Damian’s length, wringing him dry.

He collapses, narrowly keeping himself from squashing you flat. The two of you are a tangle of sweaty limbs, chests heaving.

“You’ve got to get out of me sometime,” you tease.

You’ve both been lying like this, too taxed to move for maybe ten minutes now.

“Is that so? Honestly, I could die here without complaint,” Damian says, and you get the feeling he’s dead serious. Nevertheless, he rolls away. He does not let you go far, wrapping his arms around you. You shiver at the feeling of him unsheathing himself, suddenly feeling empty.

… And wet. Wetter than expected.

You keep from flushing. Damn, you were really enamored with him, it seems.

You rub your thighs together, relishing in the feeling. Until you pause.

… No, like, you’re really wet.

You slowly sit up, investigating. To your surprise, you’re leaking… cum. And clearly not just your own. It’s smattered down your thighs, sticky. When you pause and can literally feel the cum drip out of you, you exclaim.

“Fuck… fuck.” You put a hand to your dripping cunt, and are surprised when it indeed comes back wet and pearlescent white. It’s for real.

“What’s wrong?” you hear, but you hardly register it.

You pull at a scrap of wrinkled plastic, pulling it out. The condom is shredded. It broke.

“Damian. It broke.”

You stare at it dumbly. It broke. You feel the onset of fear creep by… it’s held at bay, when you feel Damian hushing you, stroking your shoulders.

Damian holds you, asks why are you worrying…? He told you there’s no way. He can’t, he’s sterile.

You dumbly nod, combating fear by reasoning with yourself. Well… you were about to have sex without it anyway, after all. What does it matter if the condom broke?

You suppose it’s just the shock of a failsafe… well, failing to save you. So why do you feel so disconcerted? What’s this niggling feeling, you wonder. You stare at your inner thighs. His cum paints you like a mark.

“It’s nigh impossible,” Damian states. He’s doing what he does best – nullifying your emotions with facts. He pulls you back into his arms, your back against his chest. “The condom was really for your peace of mind. It’s not like it did anything.”

You don’t speak, simply staring at the condom in your hand. You nod.

“Really, there’s no point in wearing condoms from now on anyway. They break.”

Damian’s fingers trace circles on the bone of your shoulders. “I mean, they’re practically pointless. And either way–”

With his long reach, he grabs his phone off the nightstand. He pulls up an article, illustrating the likelihood of him successfully inseminating you.

“See?” he says. “It’s not a factor.”

Unwilling to let whatever strange funk you’ve entered ruin the afterglow of your orgasm, you nod again. You turn your head halfway, smiling. Of course, without missing a beat, Damian kisses you sweetly.

To hell with the condom. And to hell with getting stuck in your head. Lord knows you overthink everything. It’s as Damian says.

His fingers dance on your abdomen, and it tickles.

It’s impossible.

#yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam #damian wayne x reader #girllllll #i just have to post this already im tired #mine

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tomriddleslovergirl · 5 months

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May i request a platonic yandere batfam x willing gn reader who is very unpredictable? Like one night Tim was monitoring them sleeping. He took a sip of his coffee, when he look back, reader is gone. He panicked only to find reader eating a midnight cereal in the kitchen. Or when they went out on a patrol one night and saw the reader waving at them(from a very secluded place), bringing them some snacks.

But the thing is, they never really tried escaping so...what do you think?

Yandere!Batfamily x Unpredictable!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of reader having a bad home life, kidnapping, gn reader

Platonic!Bruce Wayne x Reader, Platonic!Tim Drake x Reader, Platonic!Dick Grayson, x reader, Platonic!Jason Todd x reader

Bruce has a lot of experience with kids doing dumb ass shit and not listening to him, so he’s prepared, even though the circumstances are pretty different, considering how overprotective the whole family is over you.

It kinda makes sense to the Batfamily why you haven’t tried escaping. You didn’t have the best home life before, and having a billionaire as your new “dad” is a pretty big step up from that.

Though before they got it into their heads that you weren’t trying to escape, you gave them quite a few scares.

For example, one night Tim was supposed to be monitoring you while he slept. He had gotten up to get another cup of coffee, but when he came back, you weren’t in your room anymore.

Where did you go and how tf did you get past all those alarms without tripping them?

Tim was quickly looking through each of the monitors, when he saw you in the living room reading a book.

It was obvious that you weren’t trying to escape. Though he didn’t understand why you weren’t trying to leave the manor. Maybe you had gotten Stockholm syndrome?

Another time, Dick was on patrol, bored, when he heard you calling for him.

Curious, he turned around and there you were, waving at him using one hand and the other holding a plastic bag.

What were you doing out here? No way the old man would’ve let you go out this late.

Dick went up to you and you explained that you had snuck out to hang out with him.

Dick lectured you on how sneaking out can be dangerous and told you to not do it again. Though he let you stay with him for a little bit, while you both chatted & ate the snacks you brought.

He noted to tell Bruce to up the security.

There have been times you snuck into Jason’s apartment just to hang out with him.

Though, he’ll make you go back to the manor if he has to go on a mission.

#yandere batfamily x reader #platonic batfamily x reader #Tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #Dick Grayson x Reader #platonic!dick grayson x reader #batman x reader #dc x reader #batfamily x reader #jason todd x reader #platonic!jason todd x reader

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prompt-heaven · 8 months

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100 different AUs

academic au

alien au

alpha/beta/omega au

amnesia au

apocalypse au

artist au

arranged marriage au

assassin au

athlete au

babysitter/nanny au

bakery au

bartender au

billionaire au

bodyguard au

bodyswap au

bookstore au

bounty hunter au

brother's best friend/dad's best friend au

camgirl au

camp counselor au

chef au

circus au

coffee shop au

cowboy au

cult au

dark au

deserted island au

dog walker au

dystopian au

enemies to lovers/rivals au

fairy tale au

fake relationship au

fantasy au

farm au

firefighter au

fisherman au

flower shop au

friends with benefits au

ghost au

grocery store au

guardian angel au

haunted house au

historical au

hitchhiker au

holiday au

hospital au

hunter/prey au

kidnapping au

law enforcement au

library au

lifeguard au

lumberjack au

mafia/mob au

maid/butler au

magic au

master/slave au

mechanic au

mermaid au

model au

modern au

monster au

mundane au

music store au

neighbour au

office/coworker au

paranormal investigator au

pen pal au

pirate au

prison au

private detective au

reincarnation au

road trip au

rockstar au

roommate au

royalty au

scientist au

sex worker au

single parent au

slasher au

soulmates au

space au

spy au

stalker au

stepcest au

street racer au

sugar daddy au

superhero au

surfer au

tattoo artist au

teacher/professor/tutor au

time travel au

treasure hunter au

undercover au

vampire/werewolf au

veterinarian au

vigilante au

wedding planner au

western au

witch au

yandere au

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denileisariver · 2 months

Text

pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader

summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems. pt.2

warnings: smut, some non-con/dub-con but not really, doggystyle!, creampies ♡, mentioned babytrapper!bruce but nothing happens (or does it 🫣?), some anal play but also not really, unprotected sex, descriptions of male and female genitalia, bruce is not the best father unfortunately, age gaps, uses of the word(s) 'baby' and 'daddy' like once or twice, non-consensual recording?, reader is described as dating girls in the past.

a/n: i guess this is a small continuation. i'll still be tagging as yandere due to some slightly darker undertones kinda. i'm not sure how i feel about this one but oh well :).

bruce never believed that he was a good man.

he could care less for all the praise he received throughout the years. fundraisers and charities, his image as a loving adoptive dad who took in struggling and orphaned children, or as batman. deep down, he knew he was selfish.

everything he did, he took too far. whether it was to fulfill a pipedream he realistically knew would never come true at the expense of others. or even with love, using the people he cared for the most just so he could gain something out of it. he considered himself lucky that all the little vigilantes he collected over the years stayed. and he was even happier you decided to stay as well.

bruce knew fear like the back of his hand. he could easily recognize it in your eyes whenever your eyes met his. whether it was subconscious or not, something in you knew that you should be cautious around him, and for good reason.

he couldn't quite pinpoint when his infatuation with you started. the only thing he knew was that it had crept up on him slowly, and it had been far too late until he realized its claws were sunk deep and he wanted you wrapped around his finger.

his mind would drift off sometimes, wondering if it's because of how closely he's been able to keep tabs on you over the past couple of years. you were strong and independent, more than able to take care of yourself, and others if given the opportunity. he admired that you were bold and selfless, driven. and he wanted to control that.

he stood by on the sidelines for far too long, watching you be strung along like an afterthought. he hated seeing your pathetic dates that always turned out horribly, pitiful men who only wanted one thing from you and girls that led you on because they were 'experimenting'. he hated the sad puppy look in your eyes whenever you hung around dick, before he invited you into his family, even if it was unintentional.

whether you believed it or not, bruce truly wanted what he thought was best for you. and if that meant keeping you under his surveillance, where you were at arms length 24/7, then so be it.

bruce wanted to train you how to be obedient for him. you were already establishing your own place in his household, practically marking your territory there, and he enjoyed every bit of it. for the most part, at least. there were still some challenges he needed to overcome, but you'd always been a good girl for him. that much he knew.

you tried to be grateful for him as much as possible.

even after his creepy behavior and even weirder training, you wanted to trust him. it felt wrong not to. everyone had been kind and did more for you than anyone else in your life had, and bruce set the foundation for all of it. you'd finally got a taste of being part of his family like you always wanted, and you weren't willing to let it go just because of eccentric assumptions and silly feelings.

you did find all of it a bit extreme, though. the excessive amount of gifts, the kids were attentive as ever, and alfred practically babied you. but it was normal. completely normal. at least that's what you chalked it up to, living under the roof of a well renowned billionaire, and you weren't about to complain about it either.

being around all the other wards put you at ease. regardless if you truly saw them as found family or not, you considered them your best friends. whether it was helping alfred around the manor as much as possible, burning pastries in the kitchen with the girls, playing video games with jason (which grew to be one of your favorite pastimes), you found yourself letting your guard down. like you could finally breathe and be safe in your own home, which was basically never while you were still surviving on your own back in gotham.

speaking of jason, you think maybe you are beginning to like the boy. sure, he had always been attractive, but you never actually got to interact with him longer than a short conversation here and there before dick decided to butt in. he had always been protective of you like that. you figured whatever you felt for jason might've been weird at first, but considering tim and stephanie dated for a little while, and they were still here, that it was okay.

you tried to subtly spend more time around jason. sitting close by during dinner or while catching a flick, offering to be by his side during patrol. maybe you were a bit more obvious than you would've liked, but jason took it well, much to bruce's disdain. the boy started to talk to you more often, more lively around you than ever, staring at you from across the room, making physical contact. and you greedily accepted it.

and of course dick would be the first to pester at you about it. he'd snuck up from behind, startling you when you were too engrossed in a romance book that you'd discovered while exploring the ginormous library.

"so you and jason are a thing now?"

the sound of his sudden voice makes your body jolt, damn near dropping the precious book you were reading that probably cost more than your entire life. the only people in this world that could make you flustered the way you are now are all living underneath the same goddamn roof, and you've successfully trapped yourself in it, willingly.

"what're you talking about?" the blank look on dick's face makes you cringe. in all your years of friendship, the two of you never really fought. the thought that he'd be mad about you being with jason was almost enough to make your heart sink. but the truth was, you weren't really actually with him anyway. things were just.. different.

all of his rigorous training with bruce had apparently worked off, because almost right on cue, dick notices how anxious you are right now. he shifts his body language to a more lighthearted demeanor, no longer as stiff. his voice is soft. "listen, i don't care, kind of, but.. just be careful." the way he says it almost makes you feel better, like he cares, and of course he does, but—

"what's that supposed to mean?"

your defensiveness is no surprise to dick. the look on his face let's you know he expects it, and you almost hate yourself for being so predictable.

"i don't want you to get hurt, that's all i'm saying." he tries to reassure, but it does nothing but the opposite. hurt you? you never expected much to come out of your tiny fondness for jason, and even if it did, you knew better than to think it'd be something that'll last forever. "I won't get hurt."

you say it like it's a sure thing. there's this unreadable look in dick's eyes. something that you don't think you've ever seen before, and it almost scares you. like he knows something you don't, but you can't tell what the hell it is. he curtly nods, forcing back that charming smile to his face, but you're no idiot, especially when it comes to him.

"i don't doubt it." and with that, he's gone.

☆☆☆☆☆

it's been a couple of days since your little talk with dick. well, more of a warning than anything, so that's what you take it as. you started being more mindful, not just around jason but everyone. more observant and aware of how you interacted with them. and after a while, you deduced that whatever dick was thinking is just part of his overprotective nature, both as a brother and as a friend. that he'd grow accustomed to you and jason just like everyone else was.

that was up until you noticed your possessions were starting to go missing. it started with just panties, then a bra or two, eventually your sweaters or jewelry. at first, you thought you were going crazy, just misplacing and losing things, but it was happening way too often. bruce spoiled you enough so that everything was replaceable, but still. was dick right?

was jason some sort of pervert or stalker?

well, you think all of them had the stalking part down, getting it from bruce, but you aren't completely oblivious to the fact that jason harbored reciprocated feelings for you. but to go as far as stealing your stuff? even dirty panties? there's no way. it couldn't be. if it was true, you were daring enough to confront him about it. you'd just have to wait for the right time to do it, but that proved more than difficult. there seemed to never be a perfect moment.

bruce had been more rough than before during sparring. and honestly, you didn't mind. at first, it scared you. but with the emotional turmoil you were suddenly experiencing, you almost liked it. those damn hands in your hair, a tight headlock cause his bicep was wrapped around your neck, a muscular thigh between your legs. it felt better than you would ever admit, and you found yourself almost looking forward to it. it was just because you needed some stress relief, right?

bruce intimidated you more than anyone you've ever met, but that didn't stop you from checking him out occasionally. the older man was more than attractive, and no one could deny that, not even you, regardless if you thought he was a bit peculiar.

if you hadn't been so enamored in your thoughts, trying to convince yourself that you weren't just another perv, maybe you would've felt bruce's growing hard-on accidentally poke your ass. or that he's held you in this same position for too long, admiring how you looked bent over for him like this and wanting nothing more but to make you take him right then and there. but he was upset with you.

you were getting too close to jason. on a fatherly note, he knows he should be happy. jason always had trouble around others, and he was probably just another reason for you to stay. but a larger part of him wanted to spank your ass over his knee, gag your tiny mouth on his cock in front of everyone so they knew who you belonged to.

he has to be more careful. he'd barely gotten ahold of you, and if he pushed too much, he'd run the risk of you trying to escape. but he couldn't bear to just stand by and watch while you and jason tried to pursue a relationship. no.. that couldn't happen. jason would have a knife at his throat if he caught bruce just now, that he'd hate him even more if he found out that the girl he was crushing on was being lusted on by his father figure.

but bruce could live with that.

that's why he doesn't say anything when he gently bounces the leg that's slotted between your thighs, your clit grazing against him through the thin fabric of your workout shorts. he only gauges your reaction to it, waiting, expecting you to fight back but you don't. the movement was soft enough for you not to notice it at first, but when the rubbing gets repetitive and you finally realize just how long you've been in such a comprising position for him, a flood of both excitement and anxiety goes straight to your core.

it almost feels like a betrayal to jason, even if you owed him nothing. you couldn't even remember the last time you hooked up with somebody, and it was actually good. you'd been stuck with making yourself cum, and that got old very quickly. on one hand, doing this with bruce could potentially ruin your relationship with his other wards if you were caught, and on the other hand, you were horny enough to not be thinking straight. even if bruce was a weird fuck that you didn't trust fully.

you manage to let out strained whimpers, hoping to appeal to bruce so he'd let you go. the arch of your back had become strenuous, but even then, you found yourself yearning for more. if this is what he wanted, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him. your hips move on their own accord, rutting and pressing the plush lips of your cunt along the thick muscle, face contorting slightly in pleasure whenever your sensitive bud received the attention it craved so much.

he allowed you to hump his leg like an animal in heat, his hips jutting out forward and now fully pressing a heavy cock against your ass, the clothed tip resting by the lower half of your back. whether you fully wanted this or not, it didn't really matter to bruce. the arm that was wrapped around your neck moves down, then squeezing a handful of one of your tits, appreciating its weight and how squishy it was in his grasp.

the differences in sizes made your body appear tinier than it really was, and bruce thought that was cute too. his other free hand wrapping around your body so he could feel both of your pillowy breasts in his hands, his groping making you squirm. even if you encouraged this more than you probably should've, you wonder if this is moving way too fast. he's your best friends dad for christ sake. jason's dad. (as much as he liked to deny it). and you were already living in his mansion.

all while these thoughts swirl through your head, bruce is slipping his hands beneath your shirt and moving the cups of your bra out the way, twisting and pinching at your pert nipples. his teeth find your neck, biting, a tongue licking the sensitive skin. you felt helpless to how quick and overwhelming all of it is. it doesn't take long for it to feel like his presence and touch is suffocating you, and bruce is even more greedy than you are.

"can i touch you baby?" the grufness of his voice sends chills down your spine.

you don't know why he even asks. you stupidly nod your head in agreement, even though rough pads of his fingers are already eagerly shoving themselves into your shorts and cupping your tiny pussy through cotton panties. he hums in content, noting the warmth of it and the gentle rhythmic pulses. your heart races, resisting the urge to hump his hand just like you were on his thigh.

much to your disappointment, he slips his hand out of your shorts, whining at the loss of contact. that is up until your bottoms are being pushed down your legs, and suddenly, you're conscious of how anyone could walk in on the two of you. and you still can't bring yourself to protest.

bruce bends you over once more, your face down and ass up for him. his cock aches in its confines, throbbing and begging to be released, but he holds it off. he stares at your exposed cunt, making you feel subconscious for a bit. your lips are soft and glistening, tiny clit shyly hiding beneath the hood. his thumbs spread your cheeks a bit, your slick holes on display for him.

your arousal drips down, dripping a bit onto the sparring mat in the process. your openings wink at him a bit with small flutters, and bruce leans down slightly, using his own spit to lube up your asshole and rim it with his thumb, even if he wasn't going to use it yet.

your body jolts, yelping a bit in surprise. no one had ever touched you there, and you certainly weren't expecting it just now. your hands move to try and cover yourself. "wait— i've never—"

bruce interrupts you with low shushes, kneading the soft flesh of your asscheek in his hand. he decides to feel your clit instead, his thumb working its way down your slit and easily finding the tiny nub. the constant and steady movement ties a knot in your tummy, instinctively pushing your cunt against his hand, soft moans emitting from you. fuck, he was good at this.

you were no stranger to playboy bruce wayne. ever since you've met him, he always had a litter of lovers that followed him around like lost pets, people that he'd never commit to always at his beck and call. you think you might understand why, now. he was a provider, strong, handsome. and even though you hadn't felt his cock inside you yet, you feared you might not ever want another one again after this.

your pussy fluttered desperately, needing something inside you, an impending orgasm building up but frustration was still there. one of his long, thick fingers offers you grace, gently pushing into your cunt. it was almost comical how easily he got you to gush and make a mess of his hand, the digit rubbing and pushing at that sensitive and spongey spot deep inside of you.

"fuck!— bruce—" you cried out, back arching even further, hair sticking against your forehead due to your sweaty state. you pant quickly, trying to regain composure, but your heart only beats more wildly, like a tiny prey animal, the sound of bruce's clothes being removed filling your ears.

you twist your body and head a bit so you could look at him, the sight making your mouth fall open slightly, practically drooling while you oggled him. regardless of his age, the man before you was built like a damn sculpture. hand-crafted to perfection. he was still toned in all the right places after all these years, even if his body had grown softer during his time as a father. coarse hair that led down to a fat cock that was standing up at full attention.

you whimper a bit, unsure if you were really prepared for this. you assume that whatever this is will have an unspoken agreement to be kept secret, at least you hope so. bruce was sometimes unpredictable, but if dick or even jason found out, you'd imagine you and bruce would be killed.

"don't worry baby," bruce grunts softly, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. the head of his cock teases your entrance, before moving his hips in a mimick motion of thrusting into you, fucking himself in between your thighs and cunt. the tip of his cock smears pre-cum along your stomach, a thick vein protruding from the shaft, and you worry your guts are about to be rearranged, not knowing if you'll be able to walk without a limp tomorrow.

you haven't been able to catch a good look at his cock yet, but you're sure he's gonna have the biggest dick you've ever had. it's proven to you quickly, the air being knocked out of your lungs when he fully sheaths himself inside, bottoming out without warning.

bruce grins above you, his hand resting on your lower back, just above your butt so he could watch the delicious jiggle of your ass bouncing on his cock. he keeps a slow pace at first. judging by your reaction, he knows the stretch hurts you a bit. your baby pussy was so taut around the meaty length, lips struggling to open up for him, even after playing with it.

soft ah ah ahs spill from you, body quivering ever so slightly. it would've been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't watching you as closely as bruce was. you wanted to take it. you wanted to be good for him. you didn't want to disappoint him. you needed to take his cock like a big girl, even if you didn't fully understand why you wished to please him so much. maybe it's just cause you were sick of feeling like a child in front of him. like you had something to prove even if it wasn't needed. he'd adore you either way, but you didn't know it yet.

bruce was surprised you even succumbed to him as easily as you did, an adorable determination in your eyes, he presumes for a number of reasons. you were deprived just as much as him, which sometimes led to some questionable decisions. which meant he also knew you'd regret this later. but those were problems for another time.

one of his hands finds your wrists, keeping your arms pinned behind your back. bruce imagines the dainty fingers struggling to wrap around his thick girth, how pretty you would look with a cock fucking down your throat. he had fantasized about this happening for too long.

he fucks you with consistent movements, cherishing this moment in case he wouldn't be able to get it back. you were a kind girl. he knew all about the conflicted feelings that were settled deep in your heart because he felt them too. the teary look in your eyes, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or fuck you even harder, but he'd do the latter. with or without your permission.

bruce snaps his hips with more ferocity, keeping his focus on the recoil of your ass, his cock getting getting increasingly wet with creamy white slick, a ring of cum forming at the base of his length. you shudder a bit, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, and you shift your hips to fuck him back, needily chasing your own orgasm.

"that's it— use that little pussy on daddy," bruce hisses through his teeth, his nails digging into your supple flesh, all the filthy sounds that you and that sweet pussy made had his cock pulsing.

you could barely register a word he said, completely forgetting about anything other than the persistent pounding your weeping cunt was receiving. tears prickle your eyes, spit spilling out of your mouth. you looked a damn mess, barely coherent other than the small chanting of 'daddy' just like a prayer, mindlessly accepting the title.

this was something that bruce could get used to. everything about you was just so damn perfect. he shamelessly hoped that you were ovulating, wishing to fill your womb with his seed and make your belly full and round with his child, then you'd have no reason to leave. even if you tried, he wouldn't allow it.

your toes flex and curl, legs trembling from a wave of ecstasy. your poor cunt spasms uncontrollably around his cock, a strangled but sweet moan forced out of you while you rode out your climax. bruce stuffed you full, plugging himself deep inside of you. he stayed there for a moment before fucking you with slower but unmerciful strokes, skin slapping against you with a force that made your breasts bounce harshly.

your pussy squelches, juices leaking all over him. you struggle to crawl away from him cause of the overstimulation, aching and already sore due to the ceaseless strech. but he only pulls you back, growling at your disobedience, swatting your ass with a calloused hand. bruce cums with a raspy groan, a bruising grip on your hips, the sticky substance painting your velvety walls.

the mat below you is drenched in a mixture of yours and bruce's fluids, sure to leave a stain unless poor alfred was stuck cleaning your mess, and you had a feeling bruce wouldn't do it. you'd be willing to clean it yourself to save the embarrassment, but your weak limbs had other plans.

you think he's finished with you until you're hoisted up, forcibly turned around so bruce could see the rest of your naked body. he wastes no time to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. he wasn't going to allow you to leave here without leaving his mark on you, claiming you by filling up and covering your chest with his lovebites.

he could care less if anyone had seen how effortlessly he managed to corrupt you. all it took was to turn you into his perfect little cocksleeve. it'd be damn near impossible to avoid him after this. even if he wasn't around, the memory would be forever ingrained into your mind, and you wouldn't be able to look at dick or jason or any of the other wards without the reminder that you fucked their father.

you gently try to push at bruce's broad shoulders, the effort not doing much other than making him bite down on your tit, then moving along to the other. you guess the post-nut clarity had hit you, and a tinge of guilt welled up in your chest.

your brows furrow a bit in a feeling of discomfort when bruce glides two fingers through your folds, then gently massaging the swollen button above them. but your heartbeat picks up again, cunt clearly working with a mind of its own.

strained whimpers spill like honey from your lips, now finally shaking your head and attempting to push yourself away in defense when it's what you should've been doing since the beginning. bruce let's you break away from him though, his lips pulling off of you with a pop.

stern eyes meet your lustful but ashamed gaze, a state of displeasure evident on bruce's face. it's something that worries you, unsure of what that might entail. you don't want to make him angry, and you also don't think you're ready to leave the manor just yet, but you also don't know if you can act indifferent around bruce and the others.

maybe if he wasn't around as often, things would be easier, and you'd be able to pretend like this wasn't a mistake. your throat bobs, swallowing your anxiousness, wanting to reevaluate yourself, preferably alone.

you kneel there and wait, half expecting bruce to just fix himself up and leave without much regard for you, because you assumed that's the type of man he would be after fucking someone, but he doesn't. instead, he let's out a small disgruntled noise, collecting your panties and shorts that he had pulled off of you earlier.

his cum is still seeping out of you, a thick load slow to ooze out of you when bruce had emptied his balls inside your abused pussy. he doesn't ask if you want help or if you wanted to be cleaned up, simply raising the fabric up your legs and thighs till the most precious parts of you were covered again. the cotton becomes damp, your wet core coating them with the evidence of yours and bruce's sex.

he shortly cups the tiny cunt in his large hand, gently swiping his thumb over your mound. a small sigh leaves his lips, almost as if he was sad to be leaving the warmth and tightness of it so soon. you're not sure if you're comfortable with how easily he assumed he should have access to your body, but you guess it's also partly your fault, so you allow it for now.

his lips find yours, surprisingly gentle and loving, a stark contrast to how hard he was pistoning his dick inside your belly. but it's pleasant, so you welcome that also. bruce's tongue is smooth and soft, gliding along yours for a moment before he breaks away, a hazy look in his eyes. something you don't think you've ever seen there before, and you swear he's so dreamy to look at.

it's when you remember he's still undressed, eyes shifting below between your bodies and honing in on the massive cock that bruce endowed. even if it was gradually getting softer, he was still semi-hard, his blood pumping to that area just in case he needed to go another round. he'd be more than willing to stuff that tiny hole for you again, and he wished you'd ask him to, but you don't.

but maybe you will someday.

he let's you stare at his cock unabashedly, his breathing heavy and shaky. he slowly moved his hand, gently jerking the long length since you were gawking at him. you let out a cute squeak, suddenly remembering you were about to leave.

bruce doesn't seem to care that it's getting late, or that the rest of the family would be heading down to the cave sooner or later, his focus purely on what was in front of him. but he can see the look of worry written all over you, and it deters him. he stands up to his full height, your eyes widening slightly, his cock dangled in front of you shamelessly, and a small smirk forms on his face.

he has to refrain from grabbing your hair and prodding his dick between those pretty lips of yours. he moves to tug his joggers back on, his cock slapping a bit against his thigh from the movement. you never break eye contact, and neither does he, your thoughts plagued by bewilderment and amorosity.

you stumble over yourself while picking yourself up off the ground, barely reaching bruce's shoulders. you have to tilt your head up just to look at him without straining your eyes, uncertain of what to say or how your relationship with him will be like after this. it's distressing for you, but you're even more concerned with how you're gonna be able to look dick or jason in the eyes again afterwards.

you push away your apprehensiveness, chewing on your bottom lip so you can find the right words. "this— this never happened," you stutter out, your voice coming out more frail than you intended.

bruces lips curl a bit in dismay, his jaw clenching. out of everything he wanted to hear you say, that was certainly not at the top of his list. his hands ball into a fist, his nerves tensing up. he would never think about hurting you. not physically, at least. but you didn't know that. bruce scoffs lightly, almost amused that you actually thought he'd let you off that easily.

you scramble a bit, trying to get your point out before he can get a word in. "if anyone found out–"

"who i fuck is my business only," he cuts you off, already knowing what you'll say next. it's something he's thought over plenty times already. dick had been suprisingly compliant with bruce thus far, so he wasn't an issue according to bruce, and it was easy to get to him anyway. but he didn't foresee his other sons feelings coming into play, or yours. "and you're not an innocent little girl either, so don't act like one."

shit. you were practically digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole since you moved here. you stare up at him with pleading eyes, and he can't help but soften up a bit. if you were more smart, none of this would've ever happened. how the hell are you gonna be pining after jason now? and bruce.. he seemed less than pleased at the moment. and your gut told you that he wouldn't be letting this go anytime soon.

but he was at heart, a family man. everything he did was out of love, and a desire to protect others so they didn't have to experience the pain he felt when he lost the people most important to him. at least that's what you liked to believe. after jason's passing, they worked so hard to rebuild their relationship, and the trust between them had slowly begun to resemble what it used to be, even if there were some slight changes.

there was no way in your mind that bruce would destroy all of that just for you. you were just some girl, who occasionally hung around his son, but that didn't mean you held as much value in his life than his adopted children. he wouldn't go as far as breaking down his own home, again, just for you, would he?

"if this ever happened," you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head, already gathering how he must've felt about this based off his demeanor. you were no master detective like he was, but being able to easily read body language, sensing people's energies, and intuition, you were good at. "it would ruin everything."

"we're not going to argue about this." he rebutted, taking on a more stern tone, his voice raising above yours. like he was already making the decision for the both of you, and you weren't having that. you want to say more till the sound of footsteps catch your attention, a familiar voice resonating from the stairwell.

"master bruce, is everything alright?" you silently thank whatever higher power that it's alfred instead of someone else. alfred has had his fair share of catching bruce in.. less than favorable circumstances. but the look of surprise on his face isn't something you can miss, even if it's only there for a split second. you'd been caught.

alfred's eyes wander down to the floor below you that's still wet with juices, registering what it was quickly. his eyes meet yours for a moment, smiling at you weakly, then taking a step back from you and bruce. "sorry for the interruption, sir." the older man says formally, turning on his heel to leave, but you do the same before he can.

"actually, i was just leaving." you glance at bruce whose eyes haven't left yours since even before alfred entered the cave. and then you were back to feeling small and helpless around him, back to square one. you sigh and roll your eyes at his poker-face, trying to rush out the cave to escape the awkward interaction.

alfred's eyes follow you with worry, only turning to bruce with a vexed expression once you're gone, shaking his head in disappointment. bruce stared at him blankly, already knowing he was about to get a scolding. "i'm a grown man—"

"precisely." alfred cuts him off, sass in his voice. "she's over a decade younger than you, your sons friend. you have no right to take advantage of her." he argued, pointing a finger in bruce's face.

"she can make her own decisions." bruce seethes, unwilling to hear him out. he hates himself for knowing deep down the butler was right, but he didn't force you to do anything. not really. he knew this wouldn't be without repercussions, but alfred wouldn't say anything either to avoid suspicion.

everything would blow up in bruce's face, and maybe he'd take some accountability for once in his life, but alfred highly doubted that would happen anytime soon.

bruce faced away from him, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. he hated how easily you turned this around on him, turning into a little cock-drunk slut while having sex and then turning around to be angry at him, but it was something he'd seen coming. bruce huffs out a heavy breath, ignoring alfred's smoldering expression. "just get out, i'll clean this up."

"and what of the girl?" alfred asks, side-eyeing the man he raised. he cared more for your safety and how you felt rather than getting on bruce's nerves. "that isn't your concern. i'll take care of it."

alfred was less than enthusiastic about what that could possibly mean, or what any of this would result in. his heart ached for you and jason, even occasionally eavesdropping on the time you spent together, and the friendship had blossomed. maybe it could have turned into something more, but he isn't so sure now.

he turns back into his more reserved and neutral state, giving bruce one last judgmental stare before leaving him to tend to him thoughts. there was no point in trying to reason with him, so he wouldn't waste the energy. he'd only watch you like a hawk now. and bruce included.

with alfred away now, bruce makes quick work of his computer. he searches for the camera he placed in your room upon your arrival to the manor. there's a weird feeling in his chest that he can't quite explain, unsure of what it even was, seeing you curled up in bed, staring off into space. this was one of the rare times he wished he was meta, just so he could read your mind, pick your brain, even if just for a little bit.

you didn't seem sad or angry. just more confused by what he could tell. your eyes shifting like you were thinking up all the possibilities and outcomes of this, and he hated to see it wrack your head. he wished he could say something, or hold you, anything that would give you comfort, but it'd probably just have the opposite of his desired effect.

he had hoped to dwell on the fact that he finally got to penetrate that pretty little cunt of yours more without having to stress over issues that were nonexistent for now, but that wouldn't be the case. there was always something there to bite him in the ass and humble him if need be.

now he could only dream that whatever emotions you possessed for jason would alleviate. that he was an option you didn't know you had up until today. he hoped that he could make you his. and he would. just one day at a time.

he makes sure to save the footage that the security cameras all over the cave had captured, for later usage. he didn't think he'd get an experience like that again anytime soon, that he had just gotten lucky this one time.

but you were almost too eager to fuck him back. bruce wondered if maybe he had more of a chance than he thought, but he didn't know the extent of the loyalty you held for jason or him. or if you would want to avoid the situation completely and decide to leave the mansion. he was never a religious man, but if there was anything for him to pray for, it was you.

he didn't know what was worse. his eyes narrow, analyzing you for a quick moment before shutting off the computer, his head almost beginning to hurt due to the frustration.

just one day at a time.

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