The sun had long since dipped below the city skyline, leaving only the gentle hum of nightlife and the golden flicker of distant lamps spilling across the balcony. Bayonetta leaned against the railing, a half-empty glass of rosé in her hand, and that sly, cat-like smile curling her lips. You stood behind her, trying to focus on the view, but the tension, her energy, was unmistakable.

"You’ve been awfully quiet tonight, darling," she purred, not turning to look at you. Her voice was a velvet blade, soft but sharp enough to cut through thought.

You blink, caught off guard by her tone. She often teased, but tonight had a strange weight to it, intimate, deliberate.

"Is something the matter, love? Or…" she turned finally, letting her long fingers trail across your jaw with that playful, knowing smirk “…Have you just come to terms with it?”

Silence.

She steps closer. Too close. That towering silhouette of hers, heels clicking, hips swaying, practically eclipses the world behind her.

"That you're mine," she whispers. "Completely. Adorably. Undeniably."

Her hands rest lightly on your shoulders before sliding down your arms, wrapping around your wrists. She guides your hands up gently, placing one over her chest, the other on her waist.

"You’re my little wife now," she says, like a statement of cosmic fact. Not something to debate... just something that is. "And I don’t mean the apron-wearing, teacup-serving kind. I mean the kind I spoil, protect, and thoroughly ruin."

Your cheeks burn, and maybe you start to say something back, but she presses a finger to your lips.

"You don’t have to act coy with me. You’re fluid, aren't you? You shift, you become. So become mine. Be soft, be fierce, be everything, but with me, for me." She leans in, brushing her lips across your forehead in a reverent gesture.

"And besides," she adds, voice dropping lower, "every Queen needs a wife. And I’ve decided, you're it."

Her hands slide down your sides, leaving fire in their wake, and she smiles at your reaction.

“Now, let’s go inside,” she says, voice dripping with promise. “I haven’t even begun to celebrate our little role reversal properly. Ooh, I did like the little meal you put together last time..."