⢠right now, mainly damian. but im open to talking about other batboys in my inbox <3
DO I TAKE REQUESTS?
⢠kinda? you can definitely send a request into my inbox and iâll try my best to work on it. i am an EXTREMELY slow writer, so do be patient with me lol.
CONTENTS I WIRTE:
⢠fluff
⢠nsfw
⢠whatever kinks you want (as long as IâM comfortable writing it)
⢠angst
CONTENTS I DONâT WRITE:
⢠any form of incest. that includes batcest, pseudocest, stepcest, etc.
⢠certain fetishes. ie, foot, scat, peeâŚ
⢠pdf-philia / age-play slash regression / ddlg
⢠rape / rape-play
PLEASE DONâT USE ANY WORKS OF MINE TO MAKE C.AI BOTS, OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. THANK YOU.
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sorry for the inactivity, school has been taking up a lot of my time lately. im currently in the midst of stressing out daily whilst studying for my math class so I dont fail, and itâs been HELL đ
i am hoping that come december, when im on break, iâll get the motivation to write for you guys again :)
part two of cheating on your boyfriend with damian WILL be coming trust đ¤ iâve been wanting to post little blurbs, but the damian x reader tag has been kinda clogged recently so im scared it wonât get much engagement but đ¤ˇââď¸
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description: You shouldnât want him. He tells you that himself. That his world is dangerous, his heart being too lethal to touch. Yet, from the moment he pulled you from the jaws of Gothamâs night, youâve been unable to breathe without him. He is a vigilante, an heir to shadows, and every look he gives you feels like both a warning and a promise. You know what Gotham does to its lovers. You know what Damian Wayne could do to you.
warnings: twilight inspired ęŠ no vampires or werewolves just the vibes ęŠ damian as Edward ęŠ reader as Bella ęŠ high school setting ęŠ damian is 17 years old ęŠ reader is implied to be younger and has skipped a grade (around 1-2 years younger than him) ęŠ slightly obsessed damian (no yandere, canât stand that shit) ęŠ reader wants it bad ęŠ she kinda ignores the red flags ęŠ heavy mentions of the Al Ghul linage and the LOA ęŠ damianâs insane amount of self loathing ęŠ more tags to be added.
an: iâm facing my fears and iâm starting a new ao3 fic >_<
it will probably be a while until the first chapter comes out. i did start a draft and sheâs getting there slowly but surely lol. itâs not necessarily a dark content fic, but the al ghul/loa linage is a big aspect that gets mentioned a lot. itâs the reason why damian pulls away/reader gets drawn in, yâknow? thatâs, like, the general idea for the fic.
n e ways, ill let you guys know once i upload the first chapter. it will probably be restricted to members only, but i might also upload it to tumblr as well <33
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description: You shouldnât want him. He tells you that himself. That his world is dangerous, his heart being too lethal to touch. Yet, from the moment he pulled you from the jaws of Gothamâs night, youâve been unable to breathe without him. He is a vigilante, an heir to shadows, and every look he gives you feels like both a warning and a promise. You know what Gotham does to its lovers. You know what Damian Wayne could do to you.
warnings: twilight inspired ęŠ no vampires or werewolves just the vibes ęŠ damian as Edward ęŠ reader as Bella ęŠ high school setting ęŠ damian is 17 years old ęŠ reader is implied to be younger and has skipped a grade (around 1-2 years younger than him) ęŠ slightly obsessed damian (no yandere, canât stand that shit) ęŠ reader wants it bad ęŠ she kinda ignores the red flags ęŠ heavy mentions of the Al Ghul linage and the LOA ęŠ damianâs insane amount of self loathing ęŠ more tags to be added.
an: iâm facing my fears and iâm starting a new ao3 fic >_<
it will probably be a while until the first chapter comes out. i did start a draft and sheâs getting there slowly but surely lol. itâs not necessarily a dark content fic, but the al ghul/loa linage is a big aspect that gets mentioned a lot. itâs the reason why damian pulls away/reader gets drawn in, yâknow? thatâs, like, the general idea for the fic.
n e ways, ill let you guys know once i upload the first chapter. it will probably be restricted to members only, but i might also upload it to tumblr as well <33
Hi! I donât usually send requests but I js read your âDamian doesnât prayâ post/fic part? And OMGG it like hit me. Including the part of Jason praying to God? Like thatâs so poetic idk đ maybe it js hits me cs Iâm Christian but I usually donât rly see Jason being presented as sm1 who prays and stuff so that was rly interesting and like cool. I rly liked it. So idk if youâd like to maybe write smth on that?âŚlike Jason showing more of that like an x reader thingy or your thoughts on him. Totally understand if u donât want to since it is like religion and ik some ppl donât want to write abt that cs itâs controversial (?) but itâd be cool and OFC A PART 2 to Damianâs part would be awesome! Thank you! -idk how the Anon thing works but ik ppl do like nicknames so Anon 𪟠u can call me if u want đ? THANK YOU AGAIN! Sry for like yapping lol
i was lowkey kind of hesitant to add in the jason praying aspect to the fic haha. im pretty sure his mom was, like, a devoted catholic in the comics?? maybe im wrong, but Iâve seen so many fanarts of jason praying and i thought they were so beautiful.
i can totally write a piece for jason! it would be my first time writing for him so it might take a while for it to be published. i need to find a good rhythm for writing him and such. but that part 2 for damian is totally possible!!
damian doesnât pray. he doesnât know how. the concept of religion had never satisfied damian. his mother was religious. or maybe she wasnât and damianâs childhood memories of her praying seemed bigger, more profound, than they actually were.
staring at your sleeping figure guts him completely. an unfortunate run in with the joker led you to where you are now, beaten and bruised on a hospital bed. damian wasnât scheduled for patrol when it happened, and he was almost thankful he wasnât. he doesnât know what he mightâve done if he was there.
you were saved by his father, pulling you out of the grimy grasp of the clown, before having you rushed to the hospital. you were already unconscious when he found you, and it was unclear as to when youâd wake up. nothing fatal, the doctors said, they needed to let your body come-to naturally.
damianâs fingers twitch at his side as he fights the urge to reach out to you. youâre fragile, and heâs more aware of that now than ever before. his hands wonât do you any good right now. his own blood soaked, harming hands.
he doesnât know what to do with them. the restful twitching doesnât stop even for a minute as he watches you from the doorway. eyes frantically scanning up and down your body for any sign of moment.
thereâs a thick knot in his throat when he tries to swallow, and he realizes itâs his bodyâs way of trying not to break down and cry. he canât breathe, mouthing dropping open in an attempt to gain some air, but itâs all futile. his breath comes out in what could only be described as shocked pants. damian takes one last look around the room before making his exit.
the hallways seem to provide him with more air, but thatâs probably only because he doesnât have to stare at the embodiment of his own failure right in front of him out here. his footsteps are heavy and quick as he makes his way to his desired destination.
he rounds corners, saying sorryâs and excuse meâs, until heâs perched in front of the hospital's chapel. itâs a humble room, with only about five rows of benches and a tiny apse. damianâs feet almost move independently from his body as they drag him to the small rectangular altar, and he ungracefully collapses onto his knees.
and so, he prays. with every inch of his lost, rotten soul, he prays. he recites every last ritual worship he knows. he recites in farsi. he recites in latin. he recites in any language that would get him heard by something above.
he prays to deities, most heâs unfamiliar with. he begins by pleading to the one heâs most familiar with. allah. then he switches to the one he hears jason pray to. god. damian even goes as far as to talk to the twelve olympians.
he clasps his trembling hands together like heâs seen jason do on the edge of his bed when he thinks no oneâs watching. he places his two hands on the cold marble floor and bows his body down till his forehead barely touches the ground like heâs seen his mother do.
his prayers are all about you. he prays to a god, whichever one that may hear him, that you will be safe and protected from any harm that may come your way, himself included.
he knows that no amount of redemption will ever make him worthy of granted wishes, but he prays that the gods can look into his cold beating heart and find you, someone who is worthy of being saved.
Helloo!!! I saw your amazing Damian Wayne series (the Jon's ex girlfriend one!) and was wondering if I could get your Ao3 tag to keep up with this series! đ§¸
i actually deleted the fic off of ao3, like, 10 minutes after i posted it đđ then i uploaded it on here instead
starting a new series on ao3 is always kinda scary cuz itâs sometimes difficult to get kudos and get people to enjoy and stick with your story. because of that, it gets kind of unmotivating (is that a word??) as a writer when no one interacts with your work :/
which is why i moved the fic over here. i get more motivated by tumblr notes rather than the odd kudo from ao3. itâs just a lot more active on here, and i love all your comments and reblogs <3
BUT!
if you guys reallyyyyy want me to re-upload the fic to ao3, just let me know whether in the comments or inbox and i might do it :p
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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HE WANTS IT, (SO), I GOTTA GIVE IT TO HIM (horny!d. wayne x sleepy!reader)
damian wakes up horny in the middle of the night and decides to make it your problem.
cw: requested, part two to this kinda, slight somno, side fucking turned pronebone, fingering, overstimulation, dom!damian, slight dirty talk, unprotected p in v, brief hair pulling, choking if you squint, coming inside, cockwarming at the end.
wc: 1444
the ache in his cock burns hotter the longer he tries to ignore it. staring up at the blank ceiling does nothing to distract him from the borderlining pain in his boxers. he lets his head fall sideways limply as he stares at your sleeping form next to him. youâre laying on your side and your his shirt has risen up, exposing your plump ass filling out your lacy panties.
groaning quietly, he presses his thumb and forefinger into his eyes as if that could relieve anything. he brings his other hand down to his cock, gently squeezing himself through the thin cloth. his eyes unconsciously drift back to your ass and he bites on his knuckles to keep himself quiet.
the squeezes aren't getting him anywhere, and he realizes that quickly. it simply isnât enough. his hand never compared to your warm cunt.
now, he's left with two options. jerk off quickly and put himself back to sleep or roll over, slip himself inside your gummy walls, and have the best remedy for his throbbing cock. the decision is easy.
damian scoots himself next to you, his bare chest pressing up against your clothed back. lips dip down to your exposed neck and lock themselves in place to leave butterfly kisses all over. the tip of his tongue runs down slowly on the side of your neck.
he blows air through his lips on the wet path he left behind, watching each goosebump rise one by one. your hips move back slightly, pressing right up against his hard dick. damianâs eyes roll back in his skull as he groans and buries his head back in your neck. strong hands grip your hips to keep them steady as he lets his own roll into the fat of your ass.
âdamian?â
you turn over to lay on your back. your tired eyes meet his lust blown ones. your voice is barely over a tired whisper when you ask him what heâs doing.
damian presses his hand next to your head and slots one of his thighs between yours. he shifts it upwards and flexes the muscle against your hot cunt.
âpayback, maybeâŚâ his teeth flash, sharp canines flashing in the dim outside light.
a sheepish smile curves on your mouth. lazy arms come up to wrap around his neck and pull him down. he makes sure heâs the first to lock your lips together. he alternates between playing with your top and bottom lip, desperate for as much contact as possible.
your efforts to kiss him back are weak compared to him, whoâs been awake much longer than you, but you try nonetheless. keeping up with the swirls of his tongue and the bites of his teeth. your mouth gets frozen in a gasp when you feel his hands creep down your stomach.
his palm heads south in a downwards motion and you pull yourself away from his lips to watch it disappear behind the cloth of your panties. your eyes squeeze shut when he makes contact with your clit. he rubs tiny circles, all of them sending shockwaves up your spine, before he dips his finger lower.
pressing two fingers into your entrance, he keeps the ball of his hand pressed to your clit, keeping a constant pressure to the nerve bundle. moans barely escaping through gasps pass your lips when he curls his fingers and pushes them upwards.
âoh my god,â you mewl, watching the way his hand flexes behind your underwear.
damian leaves open kisses along the length of your throat. he keeps his ear right under your mouth, making sure all your sounds infiltrate his brain. they go straight to his cock, making the throbbing unbearable as he grinds against your thigh.
all you can think about is the feeling of his warm fingers working their way in and out of you. one hand shoots down to grip his moving wrist and the other goes back to grab into the pillow behind you. his fingers move faster, move harder, to get you to a release. your head tilts back in a silent scream as your cunt pulsates around his fingers. that familiar warm static feeling runs through your veins, making your brain go mush and your toes go numb. you meekly try to paw his hand away that keeps on moving inside you.
âdami, please,â you plead, eyes starting to bubble with tears.
all he does is push his lips to your to cease your whining. âon your side.â
he keeps your lips connected as he gently maneuvers your body to rest on its side again. he feels your hand reach to run over the back of his hair. only then does he retract his hand from your hot south, to pin your hand onto the bed in front of you.
âno touching,â he grunts through his kisses. you whine a little, arching your ass back into his cock.
he tsks, letting go of your hand, leaving a bruising grip on your hip. âyou started this, remember?â
âyou werenât this mean the last time,â you pout, still trying to grind your ass on him.
ââcause that was for you. to relieve you,â he tells you. âthis is my turn. iâll have you how i want you, and youâll take it all.â
he pops his cock free from his boxers and pushes your panties to the side. his cock slides between your folds, catching every so often on the bump of your clit.
damian leans down predatorially to the side of your face. âyou gonna take it?â
he watches you nod your head vigorously, biting your lip to suppress any whines.
âyou know i donât like that,â he sternly reminds you, and you release your lip from its hold of your teeth.
his cock pushes in to the brim and he lets out a hiss of relief. hand gripping your hip while the other rests on the pillow above your head. he begins rocking his hips back and forth into your warm pussy.
your walls squeeze him tight and his mouth is permanently left open at the feeling. heâs silent with his pleasure, but he canât hide the faces he makes. brows scrunch together in ecstasy when he feels you throbbing against him. lips curled in an âoâ shape as he watches himself disappear in and out of you repeatedly.
your moans add onto his pleasure, being able to push him over the edge if he wasnât careful. you let out whine after whine when he abuses that spot deep within you, hands clutching onto the bedding beside your head.
he groans and flips you over onto your stomach, placing his knees on either side of your thighs. gripping your hips tightly, he presses them deep into the mattress, and starts hardening his thrust. your toes curl and feet kick at the bed beneath you as your moans are caught by the pillow.
âright there, dami.â
damian smirks, coming down to place his hand on the headboard. âyou like that?â
you puff out a small âmhmâ into your pillow as your eyes roll back into your head. your fingers claw at the sheets and try to pull your body away from the overwhelming pleasure, but it only causes him to tighten his grip on your hips to pull you back down.
he grips a handful of hair from the back of your head to tilt your face upwards. crashing his lips onto yours as his thrusts grow sloppier.
âyou want me to come inside?â he asks into your mouth. he already knows the answer.
âuh-huh.â
he grows more frantic as his orgasm appears on the horizon, thrust increasing their speed. he pulls away to look into your eyes. âwant me to fill your pussy? make it mine?â
âyes, yes,â you slur as you stare back into his eyes. âitâs yours. make it yours, damian.â
he cups the front of his throat with his fist as releases his load into your awaiting cunt. he grunts into your mouth and you can feel it vibrate down your throat. your body gets pushed further into the mattress when he sets his full body weight on your back.
he lets out a couple more lazy thrusts into your puffy cunt, all while you whimper as you claw at his wrist beside your head.
damian kisses your lips, gentler this time, until you fall back to sleep. he reaches back to pluck the forgotten blanket back and drapes it over your body. shifting you back into your original position on your sides, he keeps himself buried deep within you, using your warmth as a blanket of his own.
Damian Wayneâs No Good, Very Bad Love Affair (d. wayne x reader: a series)
series summary! If you told thirteen year old Damian that by fifteen heâd be undeniably in love with his best friend's (ex-)girlfriend, he wouldâve spit in your face. At thirteen, he couldnât stand her. He hated how she always had to get the last word in and the way she looked at him like he was a nuisance. But fifteen had a way of making everything sharper, and now the hate sat tangled with something worse, something he refused to name every time his chest ached just looking at her.
chapter one, Meet The Girlfriend
chapter contents! damian being dramatic, no beta.
word count! around 2000
damian doesn't know why he agreed to meet with jon. more specifically, jon and his girlfriend. the older boy (who used to be younger, damianâs still salty about that) has been pestering him for weeks now, talking about how great his new girlfriend is, who he had met at school. long weeks of damian giving curt âuh-huhsâ and âhmsâ in response to jon ramblings, and weeks of jon just not getting the hint that he simply didnât care.
he didnât care what her name was. he didnât care that her hair fell perfectly across her face that one day. and he certainly didnât care that her lips were âas soft as marshmallowsâ as jon once said. gross.
but damian is his friend and friends are supposed to care. so he sucked it up like the big thirteen year old boy he is and promised his friend heâd indulge in one lunch date with him and his girlfriend.
and now he sits outside the diner on a city bike he rented after taking the train to metropolis, lazily swinging his phone in one hand while not so patiently waiting for the kryptonian and his arm candy.
theyâre late, which is somewhat typical for jon, but damian hopes the girlfriend doesnât have the same tardiness. theyâll just reproduce and make little unpunctual babies, further polluting the earth with brainless idiots who donât have any care for other peoples time.
images of this mystery girl, who has entranced his best friend, conjure in his mind. damian uses every little description heâs received from jon to piece together this so-called âtotal babeâ. he realizes that jonâs details arenât exactly helpful. thereâs only so much damian can picture with descriptions like angel face and nice buns.
if there was one thing he hated most about his best friend growing up, it would be the fact that heâs turned into a horny teenager. the amount of times he had to listen to the kryptonian talk about this girl like sheâs aphrodite reincarnate was disgusting.
damian canât fight the grimace that pulls on his lips when the memories resurface in his brain. he jams his fists into his jacket pockets and lets out a huff of air whilst looking around the area for any sign of the love birds.
out in the far distance, he spots the tall boy, whoâs a head taller than most of the crowd, making his way over. thereâs no one beside him, the space around him vacant, and damian prays to whoeverâs out there that he decided to cancel lunch. or better yet, broke up with the broad.
the idiotic smile on jonâs face lets damian know that neither of those wishes came true. he hates to admit that heâs noticed that jonâs been cheery, even more cheery than usual if thatâs possible, ever since the girlfriend showed up. he rambles less about the villains he fights, voice all jumbled up in frustration. Instead, choosing to talk about the dates he takes her on in great detail. she makes him happy, and it makes damian sick. love makes damian sick. so unnecessary and so feeble and so not worth his time.
he fights an eye roll as jon approaches closer. thereâs a high probability that this dumb lunch date is still on and that sheâll still show up.
âsup, man,â jon exclaims once he reaches an appropriate distance. his hand reaches out to dap damianâs, and damian pretends as if thatâs not the most awkward way of greeting. much too american for his tastes. â(y/n)âs running a bit late. she should be here any second.â
damn it all. mentally, damian crumbles to his knees, head caught between his hands, as he yells out curses to the wind. on the outside, he keeps his composure. looking cool is his specialty (as acclaimed by only himself).
âi was assuming you two would show up together. isnât that what,â he nearly vomits in his mouth, âcouples do?â
he internally high-fives himself at the sound of the faux collected and natural tone he managed despite mentally feeling like heâs burning in hell. what an awful way to spend his saturday. dragged out of his den to mingle with in-love morons. at least he gets a free lunch out of it.
jon puffs out a laugh, and it makes damian feel smaller, further reminding him that heâs no longer then more experienced one of the two.
ânah, chicks need their time to get ready,â he explains as if damian knows nothing about women or âchicksâ. which he doesnât, but he also doesnât need jon rubbing it in.
he nods along anyway as if he gets it and shifts around on the seat of his bike. his plans to make a retort are smothered by the sound of a frillish voice making its way over.
âJonny!â
and the sound already grates damianâs ear drums. turning his head around to the direction of the noise, he finds the culprit making swaggering her way over. skipping, nonetheless. her low heeled boots make unbearable clicks! on the concrete sidewalk beneath her. her hair blows frantically in the wind, strands swinging around her hair, which will no doubt create knots.
she overall looks ridiculous, with her fur trimmed grey coat. itâs august, for god's sake.
to jon, she probably does look like that âangel goddessâ he talks too highly about. he probably doesnât hear the loud annoying stomps of her boots as she picks up her pace, ears too muffled by the noise of love.
just for politeness, damian reluctantly outstretches his hand in the gesture of a handshake. what he didnât expect was to be nearly knocked over by an unseemly large purse, multiple clipped accessories scratching at his arm. his face drops, utter shock adorning his features, as she shoves past him to wrap her bangled arms around Jonathanâs neck. she squeals a pitchy âhi, baby!â before linking her lips with jonâs.
damianâs hand starts turning cold from just how long heâs left frozen in his place. what the hell just happened? he looks around him crazed, eyes darting side to side, up and up, because there was absolutely no way that just happened. just what kind of girls was jonathan into?
the sound of lips smacking is louder than any impetuous plan of attack conjuring in his brain to eliminate this girl. hands start groping and damian decides that heâs had enough of this borderline porno screening in front of him.
âunbelievable,â he mutters, and shakes his head back and forth.
using his fingers, he begins abusing the bell on his bike. the sound is almost as obnoxious as the sound of her shoes. itâs loud and rings like metal crinkling together forcefully. he doesnât stop until they pull apart and have the audacity to look at him like heâs the inappropriate one.
and even after, he keeps going, just to be petty. his finger begins to cramp as he deadpans in their faces, the sound slowly diminishing when damian finishes having his fun.
(y/n) turns her head, looking dazed before her eyes land on damian. she has to look down slightly due to him still sitting on the bike, but he thinks that if he were to stand, sheâd be around his height in heels.
âcan we help you?â she asks, plucking and pushing stray hairs out of her face. if looks could kill, heâd be shot dead on this broken concrete.
jon snaps out of whatever shared daze theyâve been caught up in and clears his throat, turning slightly to his girlfriend.
âoh, right,â he jolts slightly, like he just remembered what he was here for. what a fool. â(y/n) this is damian.â
a look of realization snaps across her face, mouth curving into an âoâ shape as she looks between the two boys.
âooh, youâre damian?â she lets out a laugh, one thatâs more classified as a giggle, and damian wishes he could shrink his hand, reach into his ear, and rip out his ear drums. âi thought you were a cheapy holding out your hand for money.â
damian narrows his eyes and scrunches up his face. he canât help the aggravated tone that leaves his lips. âa what?â
âokay!â jon claps his hands together before resting them on (y/n)âs shoulders. âletâs head inside, people.â
damianâs fingers pick at the fries on his plate. heâs slouched himself low into the booth, back now resting low on the seat. he canât make himself look up at the scene in front of him, two people with their arms tangled while feeding each other little bits of food from their plates. every time his eyes avert upward, he has to fight back the urge to chuck a fry at their faces.
donât even get him started on (y/n) and how sheâs barely spoken or even looked at him since all three of them sat down. the sole reason damian came out today was to shut up jonâs bitching and meet his girlfriend. get to know her in the way that the boyfriendâs best friend should. make polite conversation and maybe even share some things in common.
instead, heâs left with a sour taste in his mouth that tells him sheâs going to be a problem. for him and for jon, he wasnât sure yet.
she starts absentmindedly pawing her hand around the table in search of something, all while keeping her eyes locked on jon, cartoonish smiles painted on each of their faces. in search of whatever, she misses her own plate completely, stealing a fry right off damian's plate, centimeters away from his hand.
damian reels his hand back at lightning speed before she accidentally touches him. face pulling into yet another grimace at the complete lack of awareness she keeps executing. and unable to move, he has to sit and watch her bite into his fry from his plate that he ordered.
âi needa use the bathroom,â jon tells the table. (y/n) shimmies out of the booth to let jon out, and plopping back down once he leaves.
damian half thinks of reaching out and tugging jon back down into the booth, just so that he doesnât have to be alone with his snobby girlfriend, but he's already gone too far from the table. when he finally looks up, expecting to engage in at least a small exchange of words, sheâs already pulled out a tiny mirror, moving it all around to different parts of her face. she wipes a bit of smudge lipstick from the side of her mouth.
âugh! stupid,â she complains, and damian can already tell she does that a lot. âthe box said itâs supposed to last all day.â
âmaybe it isnât makeout proof,â he grumbles back.
âohmigod, jon was so right about you,â she laughs and snaps her mirror shut before stuffing it back into her overflowing purse. âyou are funny!â
damian sinks lower into the booth, wanting the seat to swallow him whole. âdid he also mention I have an intolerance for absent-minded, prissy, lackluster individuals.â
âhmm⌠no, I donât think so.â her head shakes from side to side as if sheâs not the type of person he just purposefully described. âbut donât you just hate those kinds of people?â
âyep.â
âyou know, you look really tired.â her voice drops a pitch and tilts her head, looking at him like that observation calls for the utmost sympathy. âyou can totally borrow my eye cream. itâll really brighten up those eyes.â