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#//I'll probably have to add onto this but fOR NOW

perinkling · 7 months

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so since tumblr is starting to sink (for lack of a better term), here's my other social media:

discord: @/perinkling

https://twitter.com/perinkling (i only use this to keep up with splatoonNA)

https://instagram.com/periinkling (i don't post super often but i check it daily)

https://cohost.org/fourleafclover (main) and https://cohost.org/perinkling (art) and https://cohost.org/cloverafterdark (18+)

https://www.pillowfort.social/peridot (i made this back when the porn ban was new and never used it and am too stubborn to change the username)

https://www.deviantart.com/perinkling (yes i still occasionally use this, only for a niche arpg at this point)

https://toyhou.se/perinkling (fuck it, toyhouse is going on this list)

https://www.furaffinity.net/user/sleepydot (fuck it x2, furaffinity, i also rarely use this)

#i will add onto this if i think of any more socials i have #also cohost is the place im probably going to if/when tumblr finally crashes and burns but idk #we'll see.#clover.txt #this will be my pinned post from now on #sorry 'unfortunately i listened to a lot of bastille in high school so i'll be like this forever' i love you

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riki-dazed · 2 months

Text

enemies with benefits

NSFW smut · block & don't read if you're uncomfortable · fingering, cursing, lil smug shit riki · wc: 1668 · requested

Your best friend drags you along for a night out which leads to an unexpected encounter with a boy you're not very fond of, Riki. The evening ends with him being knuckles deep in you, in your car.

You stop in your tracks in the middle of the street, "What do you mean Riki's there?"

The evening breeze feels cool against your skin as you're on your way to a restaurant with your best friend, the two of you had made plans to meet her boyfriend and another mutual friend.

"I didn't want to tell you cause I knew you wouldn't comeee," Your friend whines, pulling at your arm to drag your body along, "It won't take long. We'll just grab a bite and then leave, okay?"

You stare at her more shocked than upset as you let her pull you into the restaurant and out of the cold night's air. She was right.. If you knew Nishimura Riki was going to be there, you probably wouldn't have agreed on going out with them. On a good day, you and Riki would get by with a small argument. The both of you can barely get along when together, the clash of your personalities being a perfect match made in hell.

"Over here!" You hear Jake's familiar voice call, causing both of your gazes to shoot in his direction when you step through the door. Your friend smiles excitedly, and hurries over to greet him.

Unlike her, you stand still in your spot, your gaze shifts to the boy sat next to Jake in the booth. His dark hair's styled perfectly, a familiar leather jacket hugs his shoulders just right. His eyes are focused on his phone, so he doesn't notice when you take a seat directly in front of him moments later. Your friend waits for you to sit before she takes a seat beside you.

"Hi Riki," She smiles, his gaze shifts off his phone to look up at her, he nods, and then settles his eyes upon you.

He suddenly doesn't seem too amused anymore, "Why's she here,"

"Hello to you too," You mumble under your breath, slightly annoyed. You look down at the table to avoid his gaze, suddenly feeling one of your feet being kicked underneath the table. Though, in a playful manner.

Was that him?

"Can we all please just get along for an hour," Jake sighs, a small, hopeful smile plays on his lips as he tries to plead with mostly his friend that's sat beside him. Riki scoffs.

"I told you this was a bad idea, babe," Your friend adds, eyeing her boyfriend.

The two exchange looks of uncertainty, causing you to let out a sigh at the table. You stand up, gathering your bag and phone, already fed up with Riki's attitude after only a couple of minutes.

You look at your friend, waiting for her to move out of the way so you can squeeze out the booth. You speak hurriedly, "Jake can drop you off, right? I'll just head off now,"

"We've already ordered your food," Riki speaks from across the table, you watch him with your eyebrows furrowed. Gaze piercing, his eyes move from your face to the plush seat you just pulled yourself off, "Sit."

With a huff, you do as he says, not wanting to bicker on further. Riki picks up his phone, you eye him cautiously as yours vibrates moments later. Surely that wasn't him you think as your eyes stay locked onto his. Though, the menacing smirk that's playing on his face is giving you reason to believe otherwise.

You pick up your device, your breath almost getting caught in the back of your throat as you briefly scan over the text you've just received... From no other than the smug boy who's currently scanning your face for your reaction.

"Oh fuck off," You mutter unamused, immediately placing your phone face down onto the table. The couple's eyes are now back on you, wondering what just happened.

"My brother texted asking for money," You smile awkwardly, they nod obliviously and get back to their conversation.

...

"You'll be fine," Your friend smiles, patting you on your head. You're left standing there in the dark, completely and utterly dumbfounded.

How could they do this to me?

"You're a bitch," You half-joke as you watch her get into Jake's car, a grin plastered across her pretty face as she waves you bye. The tall figure beside you also watches their car drive away, he's just as quiet as you are. You don't know how to break the silence.

You actually spent most of the evening in silence, trying not to make eye contact with Riki after he had sent that unhinged text to you. It was hard, though, boy was it hard to not look at him. Especially when all you had in your brain were images of him fucking you in that same leather jacket the previous week.

To make matters worse, your friend decided she wanted Jake to stay the night at her house. Maybe she did it on purpose? But surely she couldn't have known about the nights you've spent with Riki; no one knows... Except the boy who suddenly decides to break the silence with his deep voice.

"Do you want me to drive?" He pulls you out of your thoughs, the both of you still not looking at one another.

"You can fucking walk home," You sneer in reply, turning to walk towards your car. You hear footsteps following behind you shortly after.

The drive to his dorm is silent, no music is listened to, no words are exchanged. The silence between the both of you is so incredibly loud, your thoughts run wild as you notice him looking over at you from the passenger seat. All you can think about in this current moment is how things never end well when the two of you are left alone, especially during the night. You suddenly start wishing you knew you were going to be seeing him this evening, maybe you would have put in a little more effort into getting ready. You'd never want him to know that, though. After all, you hated him, and he hated you. Who cared. Definitely not you... Right?

You stop your car in a parking lot across the street from his building, more silence ensues. You can't help but feel a little breathless knowing how close Riki currently is to your presence.

Please leave quickly

"I can't stand being in public with you," He speaks, his voice is hushed. His eyes are focused on you, but you continue looking straight ahead over the steering wheel.

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual, passenger princess,"

"Because I can't fucking control myself around you, Y/n, "

You shift your gaze to look at him briefly after his sudden statement, a feeling of dizziness washes over your body as you look back over the wheel immediately. You hope he climbs out of your car soon. Very soon.

An enticing chuckle escapes Riki's lips when he notices your thighs shifting in their place, he watches your face as you try to steady your heart rate. After a few short, silent moments, he reaches his arm closest to you out, his hand hiking your skirt up your thighs.

"What- What are you doing?" Your voice is breathless, the feeling of his touch against your thighs igniting something feral within you.

His hand finds its way past the hem of your panties, his cold fingertips settling upon your soaked core. He can't stop smirking to himself over just how wet you are for him. You squirm in your seat, the unexpected and sudden touch causing your stomach to drop.

"I'm doing you a favour," He replies unruffled, as if fingering you in a dark parking lot was a completely normal thing for him to do on a random weekday.

Your hands grip onto the steering wheel as you try to steady yourself, your abdomen tilting automatically to give him more access. You scan his face, the sight of him intently focusing on his work under the fabric of your panties alone seems like it's enough to send you over the edge. His eyebrows come together as he continues fixating on getting you off.

Your hips work alongside his fingers' movements between your folds, your grinding against his touch becoming faster and harder as the seconds tick by. Your gaze drops to his lap, a hushed moan falls out of your lips at the sight of his free hand moving about the inside of his pants.

Am I in heaven?

You chant his name quietly, over and over, signifying that you're about to cross the finish line. Riki takes your trembling as a hint to keep his motions against your clit steady and unchanged.

"Fuck, Y/n," He groans, his fingers now pumping into you rapidly, "Cum for me,"

Your body continues to make involuntarily movements against his digits as you create a mess all over his hand, and your poor car seat. You yourself are a panting mess, somehow even too embarrassed to look over at his face. He's seen you in much less clothing before, but something about having Riki watch you be so insanely needy for him and his fingers left you a little humiliated. He keeps his hand in place, rubbing comforting circles against your sensitive skin.

"I still- god, fuck, I sill hate you," You try to regain your breath, stammering over your words as you watch Riki take his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean from the mess that you left behind on them.

Fuck

"This changes nothing," He smiles, referring to the agreement between the two of you.

You watch the tall boy leave the vehicle without another word. Little do you know that he's hurrying off to his dorm, in desperate need to finish off the job awaiting him within his pants.

#nishimura riki #enhypen drabbles #enhypen smut #niki smut #riki smut #ni-ki smut #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enj #enha imagines #riki-dazed

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sukunasweetheart · 6 months

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oddly specific relationship headcanons with sukuna pt. 2

part 1 here

modern AU, fem!reader, sukuna being an ass as usual (affectionately)

sukuna is a food stealer. he'd rummage through ur home for snacks or food like some raccoon going through the trash. not necessarily bc hes hungry, sometimes it's bc he wants something to chew on, other times its bc he wants to judge your tastes and/or shame you. if ur fridge and cupboards are empty, with barely anything other than a bottle of ketchup in it, he will quite literally give you a silent stare bc hes simply speechless... he will say youre boring, then hes gna get concerned on whether ur eating well or not...

other than going through the things u have at home, he will also take large bites and mouthfuls of whatever you're holding onto outside. be it ice cream, bubble tea, a burger, corndog- he just wants a bite of whatever youre having! he'd then have the audacity to rate it, telling you "hmm, not bad" or "this shit tastes horrible". sometimes he just does it to piss u off, he's just like that.

if you tried the same against him, you'd have to either catch him off guard (nigh impossible) or just beg and plead until hes satisfied enough to share his snack as a treat. otherwise, he's holding the item above ur head and laughing at you. maybe if you pout he'll then finally bend down and give a little smooch on your lips before offering you some.

another thing he loves doing is draping himself all over you... full body weight if youre lying down, leaning against you fully if youre sitting, or resting his chin or arm over your head/shoulder if youre standing. just. using u as a support bc this man is so comfortable with using u as a resting tool HAHA and i know this man heavy as fuck bro *sobs* if u complain abt it, it only fuels him more... (me personally, i'd love if he put his whole body weight on me... pls crush me)

he likes feeling u squirm against him and yelling for help bc ur getting squished LMAO and also, most of the time you can't support his weight for long and you slowly sink down... he always enjoys watching u lose against him one way or another...

i already mentioned previously that he likes playfully smacking your ass around the house but i'll also add on that he likes to just grope and massage different parts of your body randomly when the two of you are lounging about together, not even sexually, he'll just squeeze at your flesh bc he feels like it and he likes the bouncy sensation. cue one hand groping ur ur tiddies/thighs/tummy while he idly scrolls through his phone

hes very independent when he wants to be independent. but hes also clingy as fuck when he's in the mood to be. one second he could be fine with doing his own thing, but all of a sudden he's craving your attention the next. he's content with being by himself one moment but then the itching desire to be next to you comes around and he does just that. watch out bc the second u get comfortable, he'll probably change his mind again and head back to continue whatever he was doing again

if you do the same against him, coming and going as you please, he's a lot more resistant as opposed to you... while you just let him do whatever he wants (most of the time, anyway) he will be his teasing self as always. he's in the middle of something and you wanna cuddle him all of a sudden? he expects to be rewarded afterwards (something lust related, probably). you wanna get up and leave after getting your fill of the cuddles? too bad, he's too comfortable now, youre not leaving til he's satisfied. he's just a selfish bastard, what can i say

one last thing, i think i mentioned this in some post before but anyway.. sukuna's 100% the type of mf to show a lot of his softer love while youre SLEEPING. be it forehead kisses, caressing your cheek, just admiring your facial features or thumbing your lips. maybe even leaving a little kiss on them. brushing aside any strands of hair. but he'd also pinch your nose and chuckle when you eventually open ur mouth to breathe LMFAOAOA <3 just languidly admiring ur sleeping face <3

Masterlist

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

Text

Pets

Hardersson x Child Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Rocky the Rock

"Morsa," You say one random day off," Why does Sam have Helen?"

Magda looks up from where she's working on her laptop. You're sitting by the coffee table on the floor, cross-legged as you make your farmyard animals enact something that really reminds Magda of the book Animal Farm which is a little disconcerting but she's trying really hard not to focus on.

"Huh? Helen the cat?"

You nod.

"Well, Sam's got Helen for companionship. Helen's her pet cat."

That makes you frown a little bit. "Why?"

Magda shrugs. "Some people want a pet to keep them company. Some people have cats like Sam, some people have dogs or hamsters or other little things."

You go silent for a moment, you head bobbing up and down in a nod. "Okay," You say," Can I go play outside now, Morsa?"

Magda leans back in her chair to look out the window. It was meant to rain later on today and she didn't want you to get a cold but, thankfully, the sky is clear.

"Do you want someone to kick a ball at you?" Magda asks as she helps you slip on your coat.

"No thank you, Morsa," You say, practically vibrating to be let out," Just going to play."

"Okay. If you get hurt, yell and I'll come out, alright?"

"Okay!"

Magda types away at her laptop for a while as you play in the garden. Every so often, she drags her eyes up to check on you but you're just poking around in the gravel.

When Pernille comes home, you're still there and Magda is still typing.

"Where's Princesse?" Pernille asks before she drops down to steal a kiss.

"She's outside," Magda replies," Hey, Pernille, what does it mean when a kid starts asking about pets?"

"What?"

"Well, she was asking about why Sam has her cat. I said it was for companionship."

"Magda," Pernille says fondly," I love you so much sometimes."

"Sometimes? Not always?"

"You know what I mean. You're so oblivious sometimes."

Magda frowns. "Huh?"

"She's planting the seed in your mind," Pernille explains," So when she asks about getting her own pet then it's not out of nowhere."

"But we can't get a pet!" Magda says," We're moving soon!"

Pernille laughs. "She's probably angling for one when we go back to Germany. She's very smart."

"It's sneaky! Oh my god, are we going to have to start buying pet food?! And vet bills! I don't think there's a good vet near our new place and-"

Magda's mouth snaps closed as Pernille rests her hands on her shoulders. She's giving Magda a pointed look tinged with amusement.

"Magda," She says," Calm down. We're not getting her a pet."

"Oh." Magda blows out all her air. "We're not?"

"No. We'll be much too busy and Princesse's still very little. A pet would just add stress onto everything."

"But she wants one."

"And I want a three course meal and for Sam's whole existence to stop being a threat to Princesse's wellbeing but I'm not getting any of that anytime soon."

Magda laughs. Her hand reaches for Pernille's hip, dragging her closer until she's comfortably sitting on Magda's lap. "I can make you the meal. I'm not too sure I can help with Sam though. I can wrap Princesse up in bubble wrap though."

Pernille smiles. "You're so sweet, Magda." She cards her fingers through Magda's hair, leaning forward to steal a kiss like she did earlier. "You're such a good mother."

Magda rarely gets embarrassed about these things but with Pernille's weight in her lap and you playing in the garden, there are no interruptions. Her face flushes red at the compliments.

"The perfect mother for our little girl," Pernille continues, littering kisses all over Magda's face," You and her are so alike."

"I think she's more like you," Magda can scarcely gets the words out as Pernille bites at her earlobe.

"That's only because you're so oblivious. You and Princesse are more similar than you think."

"Well-"

"Momma! You're home!"

Pernille looks over Magda's shoulder to see you. Your hands are covered in dirt like you've been digging around in the flowerbeds again and you're pulling off your shoes, throwing them onto the floor.

"You look like you've been having fun," Pernille laughs," You're all dirty."

"Only a little," You say, wiping a hand on the front of your shirt," Where's my googly eyes?"

Magda frowns. She'd been preparing herself for you to ask about a pet, not about your arts and crafts supplies. "Er...Should be in the toy box."

"Thank you!"

You run off without even giving Pernille a hug, though she's secretly grateful for that because your hands look to be caked in dirt.

Magda sighs. "Is she going to start sticking those eyes on her shoes again?"

"I hope not. She nearly had a breakdown when they fell off last time."

Neither of them get an explanation about what you're doing with your googly eyes until way after dinner when you stand in front of them sitting on the sofa.

Magda takes a deep breath.

This is it.

It's time to completely break your heart.

"Sam has Helen as her pet," You begin," Morsa says Helen's for companionship."

"Pets are a lot of work," Magda says quickly, wanting the soften the blow," They take a lot of care."

You frown, your crinkle appearing between your brows. "Even the little things?"

"Even them," Pernille says solemnly," The little ones a very complicated. You have to feed them and clean out their cages."

You nod along before," That's okay. I've got one that doesn't need feeding."

That alarms Magda and she remembers how you were poking around in the garden all day. She wonders if you've managed to dig up a mouse or something from the dirt.

Pernille also looks suitably alarmed and her eyes immediately dart to where your hands are hiding behind your back.

"Princesse," She says slowly," Have you brought something into the house that you shouldn't have?"

You shake your head. "He is my pet," You say.

"Princesse-" Magda begins before her mouth hangs open in shock.

"His name is Rocky," You say proudly as you hold up a little granite rock from behind your back. You've stuck a set of three googly eyes on it. "And he is my pet."

"That's a rock," Magda says.

"Yes. Rocky the rock. My pet."

"Pernille, that's a rock."

"I can see that, Magda."

"I found him all by myself," You boast, puffing out your chest," I saved him from the cold and gave him eyes so he can see. He's my pet and he's going to sleep in my bed with me."

Magda can do nothing but stare with an open mouth as you show off your new rock.

"Pernille," Magda manages to whisper as you fawn and coo over your new rock," She dug up a rock."

"Yes, she did."

"She wants to sleep in bed with it."

"Yes, she does."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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nsharks · 6 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part fourteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Blue holds her arm out, stopping you from taking another step.

"Sh. I see one."

Up ahead, a squirrel stills on a tree, beady eyes unblinking. In a matter of seconds, Blue throws her knife and pins it to the bark through the stomach.

"Nice," you comment. "You got it on the first try this time."

In your hand is the other squirrel she killed for you. Ghost started working on your bow yesterday. He didn't say anything to you about it, but you spotted him sitting on the porch chiseling away at a hunk of oak. Until he's finished, you've struck another deal: helping Blue skin the rabbits in exchange for her killing squirrels with you. She's better at killing them with a knife than you are.

"This is good practice for me." She wriggles the knife out and hands you the kill. "Poor guy didn't see it coming."

"Probably better that way."

She slips the knife back to her ankle. "Do you need more? Or is two enough."

"Two is enough. I saw these flowers by the trench that I think are edible."

"You can eat flowers?" She makes a face. The two of you begin heading back toward the camp. You didn't go off too far with her. Ghost said she wasn't allowed to go past the pond without him. Truthfully, you were surprised he let her go with you at all.

"Yeah. Pink Sorrel. They taste lemony, and I'll add the leaves, too. Like a salad."

"Yum," she says sarcastically. "Did Paul teach you that?"

You nod. "He knew a lot about plants."

"Are you sure he didn't like you?"

"Blue," you almost groan. "You've asked me this twice now."

"Well, you seemed to have spent a lot of time with him, and he taught you a lot of things."

"You can spend time with someone and learn things from them without... liking them."

"I wouldn't know," she shrugs, waving her hand around. "There are no boys here for me to spend time with besides Ghost."

"Paul didn't like me in that way," you reaffirm. "Besides, he's dead."

There is a lingering pause as a cloud rolls over the sun, turning everything dim before it passes. The weather these past few days has been fluctuating like true spring. Cold showers in the morning, intense sunlight by noon, and clouds that come and go. The cabbages Blue planted have sprouted fat, juicy leaves. You've mentally scolded yourself for not including seeds in your deal with Ghost.

"So when are you and Ghost going to start training or whatever?" Blue speaks up, switching subjects.

"Training?" you repeat.

"He told me you wanted to learn some things." She glances at you. "Look, let me just warn you, he can be a real hard ass. One time, he made me climb up and down a tree twenty times without stopping. And another time, he made me throw knives over and over until I hit the exact same spot on the tree again."

Right. Somehow, that last request you made of him has slipped your mind. You did ask him to teach you how to better defend yourself against other people.

It's been over a week now, and the two of you still haven't talked much except for the necessities. Honestly, it's probably best that way. Maintaining a clinical relationship with him should keep the peace and maybe even earn more of his trust. You're growing confident that he doesn't see you as much of a threat anymore. Last night, you ran into him again after waking up from another dream, and all he did was walk past you, step outside for a cigarette, and then go back to his room. He didn't seem suspicious of you being up at all.

That said, the reminder of the 'training' he's supposed to give you makes your teeth snag onto your lip.

When you don't respond, Blue adds, "What exactly do you want him to show you? I hate to say it, but I don't think he'll give you one of his guns."

"No," you shake your head. "I don't want that. It's not Greys that I'm as worried about. As long I've got distance, I can use my bow for them. It's more about... other people. They get close. Too close."

"Well, you can always bite their nose off," she gives a bump to your shoulder.

You cringe. "I'd rather not have to do that again."

She pauses, looking at her boots. "What did it taste like?"

"Fucking awful. Probably the grossest thing I've ever experienced."

She looks up. "If you were a Grey, you would've loved it."

"Well, I'm human still, and I much prefer these guys." You wag the dead squirrels in front of her face and she laughs. If you could replace all her tears with that sound, you would.

"You still haven't answered my question," Blue tilts her head. "When are you getting started? Because I have some training in mind for you, too."

You arch a brow but don't question it. "Um. I don't know. Ghost hasn't said anything to me about it, and he's busy working on my bow right now."

"Why don't you ask him, then?" She shoots you a knowing smirk. "Are you scared of him, Twix?"

"No," you say all too quickly. "No... I'm not. I just don't know how to talk to him. He's not exactly approachable."

"Just do what I do. I say whatever I want to him. Except when he's pissed, then—" she freezes for a moment and lays a hand on your shoulder. "—it's better to shut up and listen. Believe me."

You speak under your breath. "Noted."

It's another dream that night which pushes you to actually confront him. The loud voices sharpen into images— a bloodied knife at your throat, a toothy smile, carved body parts. You wake up and grab your neck, expecting to feel severed tissue. Instead, you feel damp skin. Something bubbles up your throat and fills your mouth. Squirrel and Pink Sorrel. The taste makes you shudder, but you swallow your dinner back down. The dark, quiet living room mocks you.

The morning after that, you find him on the porch. It's not raining, but the air pricks the back of your neck with dew. You've already bathed and woven your hair into braids, which is growing longer by the day and bordering on an inconvenience.

Ghost tilts his head the second a wood plank creaks beneath your footsteps, tearing his gaze away from the assortment of carving knives in his lap. You've caught him in the moment before he's started to work on your bow again.

He is wearing that balaclava that makes him look more man than ghost, along with a black hoodie and faded, brown jacket. The whites of his eyes are visible, slowly sliding up to yours. You fully realize he isn't going to greet you with a hello, and standing there in an uncomfortable silence doesn't interest you, so you bite the bullet.

"I want to start that other thing I asked you for."

He seems to know what you're referring to. "Right now?"

Your nails dig into your palms, realizing that you should've waited for a time when he wasn't preoccupied. Though, he's hardly ever not doing something.

Blue was right. Something about him has you subconciously on the defensive; it's something you want to get over if this living arrangement is going to be long-term, which you'd prefer it to be. It was about two months ago now that he nearly killed you, and since then, he has kept you alive ten times over. Maybe you should focus on that: on the hand that pulled you up, on the warm jacket over your shoulders, on the bow he is making.

"Whenever you have the chance. But— now, if we could."

Ghost lowers his eyebrows and seems to think it over. "Now is fine. Your bow will have to wait a bit, then."

"That's okay," you speak as you exhale. "I don't mind."

It's at that moment Blue pushes through the front door and you almost startle. "Can I come with you guys?"

Ghost folds his knives up and responds in a firm tone. "No. You have work to finish up."

"But my leg is hurting," she retorts lightly. "I'd rather sit and watch you guys."

"Your leg was just fine yesterday when you were hunting and climbing trees."

"That was yesterday. Today, it hurts." She bites her lip and shrugs.

"How convinient." He gives her a dry look.

"So is that a yes?"

"It's a no."

With a groan, she goes back inside.

Ghost escorts you out of the gate and towards a small clearing nestled within a circle of trees. As you follow behind him, you find your eyes straying to his broad back and for a moment, you wonder if maybe you've changed your mind— or maybe you want to tell him to wait until Blue can come join.

But you remind yourself that survival is a proactive game; you can't laze around and keep getting sick from the memories. You need to shut them away into that box you've made, and in the meantime, get stronger.

"Here is good," he says, stopping.

It's been awhile since you've done anything like this. There were plenty of times Paul 'trained' you. He used to make you shoot at the trees until your back muscles were practically immobile. As an ex forest ranger, he wasn't much of a fighter. His advice was always this: "Don't let anyone or anything get close enough to where you have to fight them."

Clearly, his advice can only go so far.

In the five years you were at your old camp, you managed to keeps things at a distance for the most part. A few Greys had snuck up on you, resulting in thrashing and wrestling around to avoid bites. But there were only one or two times that you had to engage in close combat with a human. The few other survivors you encountered were usually punished by Paul's rifle or your arrows.

You shed your jacket and hang it on a branch, left in just Ghost's shirt and your jeans. "So, um, what should I start with? Running laps?"

"You want to learn how to defend yourself, not run a marathon."

"Right." You nod and rub at the gooseflesh that sprouts on your arm. You turn to face him. "I was joking."

Ghost ignores your comment with a pensive expression, staring you down across the short distance. You put on a blank face and meet his eyes expectantly.

The silence stretches for a second longer than what would be deemed normal. Is this just how he is, then? Or is it only with you? You're about to say something to put an end to it when he suddenly crosses his arms over his chest.

"You were a nurse." It should come out like a question, but it's more of a statement. His voice nearly makes you jump.

You can't help it; you look away. "Um. I... wasn't, actually."

Why is he bringing this up? Never once has he asked anything about you. In fact, you sometimes toy with the thought that he might have forgotten your real name by now.

"Figured," he says.

You frown, flashing him a confused look. "What? Why?"

"You're a bit too young to have been a nurse five years ago."

You think back to the moment he found you with an inward wince. "So you knew I wasn't telling the truth?"

"It didn't matter if you were or not."

That's right. I don't need a nurse, he said.

"It wasn't a total lie," you clarify, dropping your arms at your sides. "I was in nursing school."

He rubs his chin. "You should understand the body, then— its weak points."

Your fingers flex before they gesture to your face. "The nose and eyes are obvious ones. But... but if someone grabs me from behind like," you forcefully inhale, "Like you did, then I won't be able to reach them."

He gives a short nod, then looms closer. You will your boots to remain planted in the damp soil despite the overwhelming proximity and intimidating mass of him. You blink up as he points a gloved finger to the hinge of his jaw. "There's this, too. Pretty easy to dislocate." His fingers move to side of his corded neck. "And here. The throat is weak and vital."

"I still wouldn't be able to reach those," you point out.

"You have more than just your arms, Twix."

"So my head, then?"

"That's one way." He moves a step back and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Why don't you show me what you'd do— give it a try."

The suggestion should be expected given what you're asking of him— of course he would have to touch you at somepoint. Yet, it makes you stiffen. He motions his hand for you to turn around and with great hesitance, you comply, until you hear the crunch of twigs beneath his boots as he closes in behind you. You stare straight ahead at a tree and focus on breathing.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

His flat tone makes your eyes twitch in irritation and you are glad he can't see them. "Yeah. I know."

Just as he did all that time ago, his burly arms wrap around you, though not as firm and threatening. Your feet don't hang and you're not skin and bones this time, but once again, you are imprisoned against a hard chest. Your lungs pick up their pace and an artery in your neck jolts.

"Just show me what you'd do," he says slowly, warm breath fanning across the top of your hair. "Don't worry about hurting me."

You wriggle against him, but even without issuing all his strength, it's useless. You stomp on his foot, figuring that toes are pretty vulnerable, but his thick boot hurts your sole more than you could possibly have hurt him. Your eyes begin to sting. You suddenly find yourself panting in frustration. Before you can even think about trying to use your head, full-blown panic unfurls in your chest.

"Let go," you say under your breath. He must not hear you. Your voice turns to a snarled hiss. "Fucking let go of me."

His hold immediately loosens and you stagger forward, creating much-needed distance. Heavy breaths scratch up your throat. You wipe the back of your hand over your forehead and close your eyes for a moment, seeing blood and burnt skin against the backs of your lids. When you reopen them, Ghost is staring at you. The humiliation sets in as a red flush on your cheeks.

"Sorry," you shake your head and stare up at the clouded sky. "Just— maybe we should go back." Your arms hug around your stomach to keep its contents contained. "We can start this another day."

Throwing up in front of him again is low on the list of things you'd enjoy doing. He's already seen you near-death— no need to add a mental breakdown to your repertoire. Your lips press tightly together as you head to the tree for your jacket, but his gruff voice pauses your fingers against the embroidered flag on its sleeve.

"This isn't going to work if you don't tell me what is bothering you."

Your hand drops. "What?"

"What happened when you went to get the ammo, Twix?" he presses.

"I..."

To tell him would be to pry open that box you've made and let him peek inside. He has never even asked a single question about you until today, so you press onto the lid, tight, and turn to face him with pleading eyes. "I don't want to talk about it with you, Ghost. Don't make me."

In response, he lifts up his hands in resignation. "Alright." He lowers them. "Why don't you at least tell me how you handled it?"

"Why?"

He taps a finger to his masked temple. "So I can understand how you think. How you keep surviving all this shit."

The wave of nausea settles as you form your response. "I... I burned him. He cleaned the bite on my arm with some alcohol. I distracted him a little and then smashed the bottle on his head. I had my lighter, so I used it."

Slowly, he nods, as if your words are not all that surprising to him. "And how about at the base when I left you?"

"There was that Grey," you remind him. "I bit the guy's nose and pushed him into it. If it hadn't been there, Blue and I would be dead. You see? I survived because I was lucky. I hardly know what I'm doing."

Ghost argues. "You survived because you saw opportunities and took them. You were smart about it."

"And what about when there are no opportunities? I will just panic like I did now." The tightness in your chest turns into something that has you roughly grabbing the jacket and sheathing your bare arms. "Let's just go back now.”

This time, he doesn't protest. The silence that clouds the short walk back is expected on his part, and purposeful on yours.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction

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twentyninth · 5 months

Text

☆ ❝ 𝐬'𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 ❞ ⋆ genshin x reader

synopsis. general nsfw hcs with wrio (i deleted the anon ask that asked this im so sorry aaahhh

warnings. 18+, nsfw, hair pulling, dacryphilia (the title, come on), threesome mentions

author's note. i saw a fanart about wriolette on tiktok so i had inspiration to answer the ask huhu

pairings. wriothesley x gn!reader (sub & dom!wrio + sub & dom!reader)

wriothesley has a habit of pulling your hair as he pounds his member inside you, and if you've really been that naughty, he'll make you read or help him with a few documents while holding your hips down onto his shaft, forcing you to take him all in :x

oh but don't get me wrong, he likes his hair getting pulled as well, or just like, play with it while he's giving you head cause i think personally he'd be into that.

has a thing for marking you one hundred percent, can't look at me in the eyes and say to me he wouldn't (probably unaware of when he does and how he does too i swear, will apologize afterwards lol)

unintentionally pushes your head while you suck him off, just feels that good.

^^ probably girth > length, like he'd be a good 5.5 inches when soft, maybe 6.5 inches when hard, 3 inches wide but hey yk its curved to the right a little so maybe its a bit longer than we think

likes eye contact while doing allat to you, thinks it's romantic an would like to keep his eyes locked with yours while you both feel pleasure

i think he'd also like quickies, but only when he's in a certain mood; that mood being stressed out or mad. like just quickly eats you out before going back to work

unknowingly and doesn't notice he goes too rough, although when you mention it, he'll try to slow down. keyword: try

lets neuvillette join in on the fun :p i don't have anything to add on to that

both probably really into double penetration too, so mmf ngh to them iykwim, they both get to have fun (or atleast one of neuvi's cocks bc personally i think he has two)

ok later on for neuvillette hcs, aside that,

erm, i think he'd personally have a size kink, whether it'd be you being smaller than him or larger and taller, either way he's like 'meow >_<'

giddy schoolgirl wriothesley when it comes to his s/o who's taller and stronger than him and can sweep him off his feet like a little princess

aside that again im getting carried away

he definitely has a temp(erature) kink, that cryo vision not there for nothing !!!!

uses his cryo powers to see you squirm on his lap while he signs a few stacks of paperwork, maybe even cockwarm him a little

aye to the sub wriothesley fans this one's for you; he def likes being pulled by a chain, i'm just saying i don't know man, consider the thought (he has literal chains on his outfit), and with that in mind, maybe getting handcuffed (you handcuff him) doesn't sound too bad

at first look, he's not a begger, like you look at him and probably think "why would he beg"

he begs no joke

will personally get on his knees, hell even all 4s if he that desperate to let him hit

even if he's not the one getting his back blown out he still louderrr than you are,

+ he's all for teasing, and overstimulation

i like to think he's just sooo whiny for you to just take it down your throat already seeing you just teasing his tip with small licks before taking it into your mouth, brushing your fingers against the base and to the shaft every now and then

more of a 'i'll eat my cum right back out you after releasing my load inside you' but he doesn't mind fingering your and his mixed liquids out your hole

idk im alreay burnt out and out of ideas

yippee!! jjk nsfw hcs soon :p

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wileys-russo · 3 months

Note

Idea to add to the Date To Remember universe! Mary notices more and more of her clothes and training kits have been going missing, she confronts reader as reader has a habit of taking Mary's clothes. Turns out Delilah has been sneaking into their wardrobe and taking Mary's kits to dress like her mama.

part of the a date to remember series little squirrel II m.earps

"oh you are fucking joking me where is it?" mary groaned in frustration, rummaging through each one of her drawers and tossing things behind her, determined to find the one shirt she knew she'd seen only last week.

"baby what are you doing?" you caught the next shirt flung from her hand and frowned, your wife looking at you over her shoulder and scoffing.

"looking for my shirt that you've probably stolen!" the older girl accused with a huff, turning back to her search. "and which shirt would that be?" you questioned with a roll of your eyes, throwing the one in your hand back at her.

"the faded grey rolling stones one. i wanna wear it tonight with my leather pants to dinner with the girls but i can't find it!" mary groaned loudly as you smacked her.

"lilah's sleeping!" you hissed in warning, knowing if your daughter woke up any earlier than she was supposed to she wouldn't sleep tonight, having been tired out by going to breakfast with alessia this morning, the blonde claiming she was in need of some 'god daughter time'.

"its probably in the wash or in the wardrobe but throwing stuff around everywhere isn't going to help you find it any faster babe." you sighed with a shake of your head.

"well you find it then!" your wife demanded grumpily, moving to flop down onto the bed with her arms crossed. "fine, i'll look and you put the rest of this away." you nodded to the clothes scattered around the room.

"now mary." you added on seriously when the goalkeeper made no motion to move. "god you're bossy." your wife mumbled as you shot her a glare and she avoided your eyeline, hurrying to gather the clothing strung about.

"you're one to talk! should watch some games back and hear the way you yell and carry on." you scoffed, shifting through the basket of clean laundry on the chair in the corner. "hey! you said you found it hot when i yell on the pitch." mary huffed in defence.

"i do, but that doesn't mean its not bossy." you finally found the shirt she was after and tossed it at her with a raised eyebrow. "not this one!" mary groaned and threw it back as you sighed.

"mary its grey and its a rolling stones shirt. wear it and stop whinging!" you threw it back to her. "no! i want the charcoal grey distressed looking one, it completes the outfit babe." the taller girl shook her head stubbornly and threw the clean shirt into the pile she was making on your bed.

"then find a new outfit! you're being ridiculous." you laughed and turned back to the wardobe. "i am not." the english woman scoffed as she appeared beside you.

"beautiful girl, baby, love of my life, mother of my child. you know i adore when you wear my clothes, the way everything engulfs and hangs off you because you're fun sized-" the brunette started.

"mary!" you shoved her for the last comment about your height but it didn't phase her as she continued. "-and you've always had a habit of stealing them before we moved in together-" your wife span you around and settled her large hands on your shoulders.

"-but my love i would hope that now we share a closet, share a last name, share a house and share a child, that you no longer felt the need to hide from me my items of clothing you want to wear." mary sighed dramatically making you roll your eyes for what felt like the hundreth time today.

"i didn't you muppet!" you scoffed and pushed her hands off of you. "darling, i beg to differ." mary nodded for you to follow after her into the walk in wardrobe as you withheld the urge to groan.

"exhibit a; the missing kits." she gestured to the section of the wardrobe where her most favourite jerseys all hung, and you couldn't argue with her that indeed a few of them were missing, the empty hangers a dead giveaway.

"exhibit b; the stolen hoodies." mary moved on and pointed to where her hoodies normally were stacked up neatly folded, and you knew from putting away her laundry that normally they reached the top of the shelf.

motioning for you to again follow her she headed back toward the bed, moving around to your side and pulling up a few pillows. "exhibit c; the evidence!" mary shouted dramatically, gesturing her hand toward the large t-shirt bundled beneath the pillow.

"congratulations sherlock you found the shirt i wore to bed with you, last night." you shook your head unimpressed with her takeaway. "okay what about the hoodies and the kits? thief!" mary pointed her finger at you with a scowl.

"idiot!" you retorted in the same tone, pointing right back at her making her scoff. "i don't wash your old kits because they get wrecked in the dryer, remember the euros jersey?" you reminded as mary winced with a small nod.

"and i couldn't have worn six or seven jerseys to bed last night nor would i have worn a hoodie considering its the middle of summer mary. case closed, not a thief." you defended, crossing your arms over your chest.

"well i didn't move them. so what are you saying babe, we've been robbed?" mary mocked sarcastically as your eyes narrowed. though before you could snap anything back a new voice sung out and you exhaled.

"mummy! mummy! mama!" your wifes eyes widened at your daughters voice, knowing she wasn't supposed to be up for another two or ideally three hours. "nice one earps. if she doesn't sleep tonight, neither do you!" you warned menacingly before hurrying out of the room as your daughters cries continued.

"lilah! what are you doing?" you had to stop yourself from laughing at the sight in front of you, your three year old half dressed but sat on the floor with her favourite tutu around her ankles and her head stuck in the arm hole of very large t-shirt.

one that you instantly recognised.

"stuck!" was the only reply you got with a huff as you smiled and knelt down, gently grabbing her and twisting the top so she could push her head through the right hole.

"come on bubba, up we get." you sighed in amusement, pulling her carefully to her feet and helping her step through her tutu and pull it up properly.

"what are you doing awake hm? its nap time." you poked at her stomach making her giggle and throw her arms around you in a tight hug which made you melt into a puddle.

"not nap time mumma, dance time!" your daughter sighed as if you'd said the most unintelligent thing in the world, patting your shoulder as she pulled away. "no, dance is on tuesdays, wednesdays and fridays lilah, today is monday!" you smiled as she frowned.

"no dance?" "no dance baby, sorry."

"now, where did you get this from huh?" you tugged at the bottom of the charcoal grey rolling stones top your wife had been looking for earlier. "mine!" delilah beamed happily, patting her chest as you quirked an eyebrow.

"i think its a little bit too big to be yours. we don't lie lilah!" you gently chatsized as she frowned. "mine." she repeated again, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to the playmat in the corner of her room.

you watched with wide eyes as with a grunt she pushed over the chest which contained all of her toys, though it wasn't just toys which spilled out of it.

"see? mine!" delilah chirped proudly, fondly poking at the small mountain of your wifes clothes which she'd obviously hidden away. "baby those are mama's. why did you take mama's shirts, and mama's gloves...and one of mama's shoes?" you frowned, picking up the singular cleat with a confused frown.

"wanna be like mama! so gotta dress like mama." delilah shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world as you hummed and squatted down. "why?" you hit her with what at the moment was her favourite one word question.

"dance to be like you, don't wanna kick the ball so gotta dress like mama so she isn't sad!" your daughter explained as a soft smile curled into your features and you swiftly scooped the girl up, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"my love, mama isn't sad that you don't want to play football. she's very very proud of you, we both are. remember how we bought you flowers and ice cream and all your aunties came over for a big party after your recital?" you reminded as delilah nodded with a happy grin.

"did mama seem sad then?" your daughter shook her head. "you can wear mama's clothes but when she says you can baby, you can't take other peoples things without asking thats not nice!" you warned gently as delilah nodded in understanding.

"sorry." she sighed making you melt all over again as you hugged her tightly, rubbing small circles into her back. "thats okay lilah, just gotta ask from now on, okay?" you felt her nod into your shoulder.

her tiny arms still looped around your neck you stood and hoisted her onto your hip, making your way back to your own bedroom where your wife had finished putting away all the clothes she'd flung about earlier.

"well hello cheeky. decided a nap wasn't on the cards today did we?" mary grinned, the smile falling as your daughter hid her face in your shoulder. "come with me please." you requested, holding your free hand out to your wife who looked confused but didn't question it, taking your hand as you lead her back to delilahs bedroom.

"oh." mary breathed out as she noticed the pile of her clothing on the floor scattered about with your daughters most favourite toys. "lilah is there something we should say to mama please?" you encouraged softly, placing her down on her feet as mary knelt down to be closer to her height.

you watched a flicker of something spark in her eyes as she too noticed right away which top your daughter was drowning in. "sorry mama, should have asked." delilah pouted as you saw mary also melt right away at the gesture.

"thats okay lilah, thank you for saying sorry baby." mary opened her arms as your daughter all but charged into them, knocking your wife onto your ass as you covered your laugh up with your hand.

"god forget ballet maybe we get you into rugby kid!" mary groaned dramatically as your daughter giggled, mary pouncing at her and kissing all over her face as she begged out to stop among her laughter.

"hey lilah." you called out, your daughter sitting up a little to look at you. "why don't you go find mama's big red speaker and we can have dance class here instead." you offered watching her eyes light up as she pushed mary's arms off and all but sprinted out of the room.

"i'm sorry for accusing you of being a thief?" your wife smiled guiltily from the floor as you rolled your eyes affectionately and held a hand out to help her up. "mary!" you squealed as she tugged rather hard at your hand sending you toppling down into her awaiting arms.

"okay okay! i forgive you, ya big dope." you laughed as the taller girl attacked your own face with kisses now, apologies and sweet nothings mumbled in between them sending your cheeks bright red as you pushed her away.

"what?" you smiled knowingly as she hovered over you with a cheeky grin. "what!" you repeated again when she only continued to look down on you with the same grin that had you falling head over heels for her in the first place as she stole a quick kiss and pushed herself up.

"babe we're raising a squirrel."

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #mary earps x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #mary earps #engwnt

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hedonists-den · 6 months

Text

I stroll through the grocery store, cart loaded with assorted junk food. And not one of those half carts either. A full-sized cart full of fresh baked pastries, boxes of snack cakes, frozen pizzas, massive sub sandwiches, bags of chips and candy, various pints of ice cream, cases of full-sugar soda, just an obscene amount of unhealthy garbage.

By now, the employees know me by name with how often I'm there to indulge your cravings. I bring my haul over to a checkout aisle and start unloading, but I figure one more candy bar wouldn't hurt, and I add it to the pile. The checker begins the extensive process of scanning all the items, and I can see the look on their face.

None of them are really shocked anymore. When they see me, they know they'll be scanning pounds and pounds of junk food. And judging by the size difference between you and me when they last saw you, I think they know where it's going. You're not with me this time, of course. You've gotten too lazy and too heavy to be waddling around the grocery store anymore, especially when you can trust me to fetch everything your greedy heart desires.

Getting it all inside is a full task in and of itself. I practically get a full arm workout hauling all the bags from my car, through the door, and to the kitchen. You know I'm not one for taking multiple trips, but with the amount you go through, I'll have to go back at least once.

When I walk in, you're right where I left you: feet up on the ottoman, laid back on the couch that is undoubtedly straining to hold your weight. The groceries are heavy, but I just can't help but pause and marvel at what a sight you are. Rolls covering your body from top to bottom, legs forced apart from the sheer girth of your thighs, your blubbery mound of a belly spilling onto your lap from under a t-shirt turned tank top, fattened tits resting on top of your gut, pillowy arms and pudgy hands tilting a fast food milkshake cup back to get every single drop. A living definition of unrestrained hedonism.

You glance over at me, continuing to suck down the entirety of your indulgent treat. I have to wonder if you're putting on this little show just for me, or if you really have become that gluttonous. Probably both, if we're being fair.

"Looks like you didn't wait for me to get back," I say, walking to the kitchen to set your goodies down. "How much did you struggle to get to the front door and back for that delivery, hm?"

I hear a soft groan from you and the echo of an empty cup set on the side table. "I moved myself just fine!" Your heavy panting suggests otherwise, but I let it slide. After all, it could just be that you didn't stop to breathe until you consumed the entire shake. "You get everything?"

"Everything and more. I doubled up on some things, knowing how you've been lately."

"Oh my godddd, I need one of those sandwiches. I'm starving..." There was a time when you would rush into the kitchen to look through everything I brought back, but the last few times- "Could you bring it to me...?" you ask. Right on cue.

"My pleasure, princess," I say with a grin. I pull out one of the footlong subs and unwrap it for you, taking the liberty of slathering on some extra mayo for good measure. The moment I step into the living room, I can see your excitement as you lift your arms and lean forward ever so slightly, a wide grin on your face.

"Thank you thank you!"

I turn to leave, but I watch you take that first bite out of the corner of my eye. And then that little moan of delight that sparks the urgency in your feasting. I can hear you stuffing your face as I head back towards the garage and gather the rest of the groceries. You'll almost assuredly be at least halfway done by the time I get back inside and set everything down.

And you never disappoint. I step back in and see you pushing the last bite of a sandwich half through your lips before licking your fingers. The way you've been gorging yourself is nothing short of breathtaking. It really is no wonder that you've managed to gain hundreds of pounds.

"Your shirt is looking a little small," I call from the kitchen.

"You like how it fits?" You respond with a full mouth. "I just can't pull it past my upper belly anymore..."

"To be fair, not much does fit you anymore. I can't even tell if you're wearing underwear most days," I chuckle.

"Think I'm wearing any right now?"

I can practically hear the sultry smile on your face as you ask. "I think you want to see me struggle with all your rolls to check. But I don't think you've eaten enough to earn it."

"Well, you better bring those cookies and make a proper hog out of me, then."

With an invitation like that, the rest of the groceries can wait. I dig through the bags for all 4 boxes of soft, chewy cookies, bringing them in and setting them beside you.

"A proper hog? Like I haven't done that to you already..." I tease, taking your belly flab in in one hand and squeezing it gently. "Look at all this. All this heavy, moldable fat..."

I lift your gut and drop it on your thighs, a dense slap resonating through your whole body. The sound, the ripples that shake every inch of you, it's mesmerizing. I continue handling your corpulence with increasing roughness, gripping all your rolls and jiggling them, slapping your love handles, and sinking my hands into your hips.

"I've gotten so huge...I can't help that it feels so good..." You moan, laying your head back.

I pop open the first container of cookies and situate myself in front of you. Your belly makes such a nice table to hold the container while I lean into it. "Open up. Let me make you even bigger."

You part your lips, letting me push nearly half the cookie in. I get more aggressive with each bite you take, encouraging you to take more and more, over, and over, and over.

"Come on, piggy. Keep it up. You want to be a good pet, don't you? Eat..."

One by one, the cookies disappear, and I get to hear that beautiful, overfed panting of yours again. You huff and puff, finally able to catch your breath from the relentless feeding. Everything about your current state just encourages me, igniting a need to see you helplessly engorged.

I slowly but firmly caress your poor, sweets-stuffed tummy. "Well now look at you. All stuffed with sweets. You know we're going to need to offset that with something savory and greasy. Settle in."

"Okay..." you say, your chest heaving up and down as you place your hands on the sides of your belly.

I start scrolling through DoorDash, tending to you while I look for your next meal. It's only early afternoon, after all. And gluttonous house pets like you need to keep fed all day long.

#feedism.#weight gain #weight gain kink #glorifying hedonism #glorifying obesity #feedism fic #feeding kink

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sugoi-writes · 4 days

Note

REQUEST TIME :333 ummm this is actually my first time requesting here but I’ve been so obsessed with Human Alastor so maybe a sexy thing where he hunts you (fem reader) down in the wooded near his cabin with his shotgun? This is so dangerous lol but he’s shooting and splitting trees as you zip pass them in your nightgown (he would never shoot you it’s for the flare) you stumble over an old stump and he is on your ass! You fight and tumble around before he’s dragging you by your ankles back to his cabin to have his way with you? (All of this was very much consensual between the two of you elaborated foreplay if you will!)

Trigger Happy - Human! Alastor x Fem!Reader

My friend in Satan, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I was honestly getting worked up over it!!! Hate the delay, but I hope the story itself will be worth it! Just as a warning, this is getting towards risky territory, but I promise nothing too bleak. A few warnings: Guns, a heated foot chase, you get distracted there for a while, some physical violence/tussling, f!reader, some f!oral and m!oral, overtsim, rope/restraints, and some REALLY filthy penetrative sex. Y'all are some absolute freaks in this one. Hope you enjoy! (ALSO THIS IS LIKE INSANELY LONG IM SORRY ITS LIKE 9K--)

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes for helping me through this and being my scream queens/beta readers dhoduhdouhdoduhdohidoi <3 (I'm in love with both of you BLINKBLINK)

Taglist: @ieatcocoa @nocturessa @tsukikos-stuff @leviskittywh0re

@polyo-nym-y @cosmiccandydreamer @littlebluefishtail @your-excellenc-z21 and others (if you wanna be tagged I'll add you! Sorry I've never made a taglist before???)

🩸🦌🩸

Your hands fidgeted in your lap as Alastor finished the final touches of tonight's meal. You regarded him nervously as his humming filled the humble interior of his inherited cabin. He was in such a good mood, you thought... Why spoil something so tender and domestic between the two of you?

For a while now, you knew of your darling beau's aversion to many things, physical intimacy being one he struggled with most. At least, compared to most... You hardly minded, as when you were on the receiving end of such of intimacy... Well, let's just say you could usually expect to be bedridden for a few hours. You swallow the bile creeping up, nerves reflected in your voice as you spoke," Alastor, dear?"

A pair of kind, almond-colored eyes looked upon you, making your heart leap. Alastor's eyes turned a warm amber when exposed to the charming lighting provided by the fireplace.

"Yes, darling?" Alastor cooed, his tone still airy and filled with a domestic softness.

"Could we... could we talk for a moment? Before dinner?"

Your partner gave you a bemused look, as if he were asked a ridiculous question. His hands settled on his hips as he rocks his weight onto his other foot, eyebrows raising.

"Dear, why let the food grow cold? Could we not discuss it over dinner? I tell you, it's JUST like my mother's; it's hearty, filling, and--"

"Alastor," you interrupt, a stern bite cutting through your meek tone," Pl-Please... If I try to tell you while you're eating, you'd probably choke." Alastor grants you an interesting look, eyes widening with your change in demeanor. But of course, he relents, sighing like a demure housewife.

"Well then, who am I to refuse... Choking is rather unpleasant, anyhow." Quickly, Alastor fusses over your meal, dousing the fire to let it simmer.

"Now then: we have a few minutes before I need to stir it. Tell me... what's troubling you?"

You gesture for Alastor to sit with you, to take his place at the table. He silently moves towards it in confident, wide strides. You watch nervously as he sits, crossing his legs formally. You felt the sweat trickle into your brow as his simple actions felt like they took an eternity... Alastor then sets his elbows on the table, resting his chin upon his folded hands. He looked... entirely too comfortable, a stark contrast with your stiff spine and sweating palms.

Alastor watches you quietly, granting you a moment to collect your thoughts. And then, you speak:

"Alastor... you know how-- well, it's been a while since we last-- Uhhm..." The quiver of your lip tips your partner off immediately, his eyes squinting. The smile that plays on his face is telling, his teeth gleaming under the dim light.

"Oh honestly, what am I to do with you? Yes, of course we can try for a little romp tonight. But... I sense that our standard 'bedroom practices' aren't the only thing clouding your mind?"

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand the weight of what was on your mind, and how quickly it was going to hit him. You were thinking of this for weeks, terrified of his reaction... But, in the comfort of the cozy, warm cabin: it was now or never. You felt a tinge of guilt as you felt his flirty smile widen, ready to shatter his expectations.

You nod in affirmation, forcing yourself to look his way fully," Right. I have an idea. Something to... change things up. 'Make it a bit more interesting, if you'll hear me out."

Alastor hums pleasantly, one of his hands gesturing outward in an animated way. He regards you just the same, opening the floor to you. You steel your nerves, hands turning to balled up fists as you formulate your next thought bluntly," I want you to hunt me, Alastor. I wanted to be hunted."

A silence befalls the room, causing panic to rise in your chest. Your chaste, Creole partner stares back at you, eyes wide. His expression was damnably neutral, as if processing your demand. You immediately start onto a tangent, leaning forward as you make your case.

"L-Look, I know how that sounds... I don't want you to actually hurt me or kill me-- I mean-- I feel like you'd be terribly sad if I were gone, but-- No, I mean in a more..."

When you trail off, you expect Alastor to pick up on your meaning. You sigh with frustration, your hands mirroring each other as they mimed your body's curves and contours," ...sexual... way."

Alastor's expression morphs under the light of the fireplace, which burned dutifully. Alastor's black pupils dilate, his mouth falling ajar. He sits upright in his seat, leaning back as he takes everything in.

" You want me to... pursue you. Hunt you... like I would wild game? Is... Is that what you're asking?"

You nod firmly, your hands trembling," I-I know, I know... it's different. I told you it would be different--"

"Different is hardly a bad thing, mon cherie... 'just surprising, is all," Alastor drawls, his eyes softening. He could see how much you were worked up. You were scared to disappoint; scared to be rejected. He hated to see the soured look on your face, and was determined to replace it with something else," What exactly do you have in mind? This-- pursuit of ours... what are the conditions?"

It was now your turn for your face to morph, a mix of surprise and relief, a faint heat brewing in your stomach," Well... I'd like you to treat it like a legitimate chase. I could be a deer, in a sense... something to bring home for dinner. You'd chase me, and I would do my best to fight back, run away...," your eyes wander over to the shotgun by the cabin door, eyes glazed from your impure thoughts," But I don't want you empty handed. I want... I'd like for you to bring the shotgun. Use it, even... as long as you don't actually try to kill me." Alastor's expression, you swore, was now the rawest it's been since you've first met him. His heart was on his sleeve: confusion, shock, delirium, and... some sort of desire. A hunger.

Alastor smoothly rises from the table, his footsteps almost echoing in the silence. He makes his way to his nightstand, fishing out something you couldn't see. When Alastor turns towards you, you hear a familiar clink, as his revolver shines in the warm light. He opens the chamber, showing to you that it is empty, before sealing it with a resolute spin. Your fists unclench, and you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Dear, as lovely and authentic as it would be... I would hate to bring the shotgun. That tool is far too accurate and far too deadly, even in an inexperienced person's hands. A round so small can tear a hole wider than your skull, given the proper range..." When Alastor returned to the table, he sets the empty revolver there, your heart thumping at the implications. He slid it towards you, as if a peace offering," I wonder what may have caused this idea to fester... But it's one I'm most certainly intrigued by," he offers simply. You tried your best not to look away, his smile exposing just how fascinated he was with your proposal. His eyes were a dead giveaway: he was more than willing to carry this act out.

Your hand ghosts over the revolver, the wood of the grip much warmer than the cool metal of the barrel. Alastor clears his throat, calling your attention back to him," If I may, dearest, I also have a request..."

You feel your heart thudding loudly in your chest, the loud pulse making you deaf to the rest of the world.

"Which is...?" you attempt to counter smoothly, but the breathiness of your tone gives you away. Alastor's eyes squint, familiar with that lilt of yours. He relished seeing you like this: embarrassed, sheepish... But most of all, you felt an overwhelming desire to have him agree; have him take charge. His ego bloomed right under your nose... He wanted to see just how badly this desire had been burning inside of you.

"Do you recall the nightgown that you wore when we first embraced, love? The white little number with lace trim?" You nodded immediately, a heat rising in your face as you recalled your first night with your partner," Y-Yes... yes, I think I have it with me, actually."

Alastor moves over to your side of the table, kneeling down to your height. He grabs your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his eyes. You couldn't help the spark of desire that shot up your spine as a wicked smile stretches across Alastor's face," Good. I'd like to see it thoroughly ruined once I'm done with you."

You swore you had a stroke, your eyes wider than the dinner saucers that set the cozy, oak dinner table. You were brought back to reality as Alastor patted your cheek, practically singing when he spoke again.

"Now: let's eat. You'll need this to have your strength, dear~ The hunt starts this evening. Once dinner is finished, you'll have until I fully load the revolver to run. And that's when I'll come for you... understood?"

You had all but forgotten how to breathe, a stupefied nod his only reply as Alastor went back to the stove," Ohhh, almost forgot! We still have some bread from last night! I hope that's alright, dear~"

You were almost numb from the overwhelming sensations and emotions that coursed through your body. You were so excited and so nervous that you couldn't even think of eating. But Alastor had worked so hard to make you a fresh, homecooked meal... who were you to let it go cold? Despite yourself, you happily devoured the entire course, and were soon given seconds. Alastor grants you a coy smile, his expression saying what he kept silent: eat up. You're gonna need it.

---

Like the dutiful partner you were, you helped Alastor clean every dish and utensil used to prepare dinner. Ever the vixen, you even smeared some of the broth across his cheek, just to lick it off. The act made Alastor shudder, but he spared you, merely squeezing your hips and giving you a kiss. As for tonight... well, you wondered just how gentle he would be... if at all.

Once you had dried the last utensil, your ears perked up at the sound of a metallic clink. Your eyes widened, head whipping around to see Alastor opening the barrel to his revolver. He glances towards you, a neutral smile on his face," Oh! Sorry to startle you, dear. Just filling the chamber. 'Thought I heard something stalking outside... I might have to investigate it. You can never be to careful, these days."

You gasped, eyes dilating as you shook with anticipation. Now, now was the time.

You sprinted over to your suitcase, throwing it on the bed as you frantically searched for your nightgown. He was eager to start too, it seemed--

Click. First bullet loaded.

"I say, what a strange time of year...," Alastor rambled as he spun the glistening chamber, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his other hand. The second bullet was clutched in his fingers, the rest scattered on the counter. You nearly shrieked as you frantically tear off your loungewear, exchanging it for the gown that Alastor requested. He would have thought the action was adorable and meek, if it weren't for his desire to fuck you stupid.

A bemused chuckle fills the air, dark and full of promise.

"What do you think is out there right now, love? A little rabbit, perhaps? With a fluffy white tail?"

Click. Second round.

You made your way hastily to the door as Alastor watched you, wiping the barrel of his revolver with the edge of his flannel. He was taking his time and making this spectacle: that you knew for sure. He seemed aloof, unbothered by your accelerated heartrate... but it agonized him to no end. This zesty little suggestion already had his mind reeling, possibilities of how he would claim you crossing over him every time he blinked.

"No, perhaps it's a deer? A doe, even? I hear it's about that time of year... mating season, that is." Your face grew hot at the notion, cursing yourself for not better preparing for this. You made sure to pull on your hiking shoes, tying the laces tightly. You prayed that they'd stay on to protect your feet.

Alastor hums with curiosity, blinking. Another image of you, trembling and moaning under his body, making his nethers pulse with interest.

"Ohh, maybe a bobcat! Something feisty... I wonder how it would taste?"

Click number three. Halfway through...

You turn around, chest already heaving as you made eye contact with Alastor. He saw you for the deranged, desperate animal that you were. His eyes matched your energy, an uncanny smile on his face. Alastor's pupils were mere pinpricks, the overwhelming expanse of amber and caramel brown nearly glowing.

"I don't know, baby... But whatever it is, I hope it runs fast," you grin to Alastor as he mirrors your expression, his tongue running across his pristine teeth.

"I'd hate to think of what would happen if you caught up to it."

With that, you were out of the door, unable to hear the rapid succession of bullets four, five, and six. Teasing be damned, he was making himself impatient. Alastor made a show of closing the weapon with a hard snap and spin, a satisfying weight settling into his hand. With the gun fully loaded, it just felt so... right. A fascination he gained from his father, unfortunately. Though he did appreciate the skills he learned from the sick bastard, that was the extent of his affection.

He'd have a good number of things to thank him for before the end of the night, as he slipped on his own pair of outdoor boots. When he stepped out onto the deck, he had caught a glimpse of you. That delicate little nightgown was fluttering and fleeting, catching the moonlight. It had to have been around 9 or 10 o'clock at night... A perfect time for your little chase to commence. Not to mention, the cool, crisp Fall air had made everything entirely better; not too hot, and not too cold. For all the weather that permeated in this southern state, Fall in Louisiana had been one of Alastor's favorites. It was his favorite namely for Open Season... and how convenient for him that you were added to the list of eligible, wild game...

He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of evergreen and pine tickling his senses. He held his breath like this for a while, feeling his chest expand and burn from the denial of oxygen. Once he'd had enough, he exhaled heavily, a shudder running through his entire body. He let you have a decent head start. Now the chase could begin.

---

Your lungs burned from how swiftly you ran, feet carrying you further than you had ever pushed yourself. In that moment, you almost felt liberated, free… as if something had rolled off your chest. You aren't quite sure where this sense of euphoria came from, but you embraced it all the same, laughing breathlessly as your dress caught in stray branches and debris, your boots splashing into the wet, almost marshy forest floor. You breathed in through your nose, feeling a similar pull as Alastor to just take everything in… You were greeted with smells of wood and earth, though, in this part of the forest, you caught whiff of a water source nearby. As if a tether were around your waist, you felt called to it. Your running came to a steady, calm trot, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the night.

You stop just by a clearing, a familiar bayou greeting you. You marveled at the scenery before you, scarcely lit up by the moonlight. You had almost forgotten about your little game with Alastor, brushing stray Spanish Moss aside as you stepped fully out into the open. You smile fondly, a memory crossing your mind:

You, frantically shaking Alastor's shoulders as you try to point out a doe and her darling, new fawn. But, in your desperation, the deer were scared away, frightened by your presence. You had been heartbroken, though your partner swore up and down that he saw them, and that even so: your enthusiasm was a much more charming sight.

You walked a few yards from the water's edge, not wanting to chance it; meeting a creature of the night face-to-face was not your idea of "fun"... unless it was Alastor. You were grateful, then, for your hiking boots, as they made navigating the wet earth beneath your feet much easier. However, your foot catches on your next step, causing you to stumble into a nearby tree. When catching yourself, you spy a delicately carved pattern: yours and Alastor's first initials. (You, later on, had added the heart that surrounded them). Initially, you hadn't wanted to deface a tree like this, but Alastor, ever the charmer, insisted that it would become a landmark for you; a way to tell where you were if you were ever lost...

Your hands traced the familiar carvings, the rivets scratching against your fingertips gently. You just felt your heart swell more, the thoughts of your softer moments making your mind fog. Even with someone hot on your tail, your focus waning. You began humming to yourself as you continued your restful stroll, running through moments in your memory that made you feel particularly cozy; safe.

Just when you had felt your safest, a loud SNAP of a tree twig sounded to your rear left. You froze in your tracks, turning feverishly towards the sound. Your once still, content heart was racing wildly, eyes as wide as the moon looming above you. You slowly turned your entire body to face the noise, making sure to keep your eyes focused on the direction you heard the snap. You start to walk backwards, making your way stealthily towards the tree line.

Most animals will attack you with your back turned… facing them will deter an assault, even if for a few moments, you thought… Just before you could disappear, having half a mind to sprint-- a sudden, deafening CRACK rang out, followed by the splintering of wood. You looked to your left again, as you witness the tree next to you receive a battle scar: a bullet wound.

RUN.

You bolted into the thick underbrush, doing your best to stay low to the ground as a set of steady, patient steps pursued you. Had you not had a good distance on him, your hunter's pace would have been undiscernible from your own. It thrilled you; it horrified you. You knew that Alastor had a knack for hunting, and had you known he was THIS committed, you would have asked for a better head start.

A startling thought plagued your mind as you had a moment of clarity, your face paling. You ASSUMED this was Alastor… what if it wasn't? What if this was a wild animal, who had its sights on you? What if it was another marksman, and you were trespassing on their property? The thought made your throat run dry, the instinct to become small and hide winning over your other senses.

You nearly shrieked as a second bullet wizzes past you, less than a yard away, before it strikes the tree to your right. To your horror: it was at eye level. Had this been a stranger… they were going for the kill.

You crouch all the way down to the forest floor, searching frantically until you spy an hollowed-out tree log. You slink your way over, searching for any residents or critters, before diving headfirst into the tree husk. You laid on your back, bringing your legs in as far as they could go. You winced as your knees scrapped against the dead wood. Unable to calm down, you hastily cover your mouth with both hands. You were doing your absolute best to calm your breathing. Think, now, think… you had to think your way out of this mess.

The steady beat of the hunter's footsteps slowed, until they stop entirely. You resisted the urge to sigh in relief, still unsure if you were safe or not. Eventually, you couldn't hear a thing over the deafening stillness, the normal noises of the woods silenced by your escapade. Much like you, other creatures seemed to wait with bated breath. Maybe they were terrified of the hunter… maybe they were terrified of you.

You twitch as you hear the familiar clink of metal, a revolver's spinning wheelhouse catching your ear. You weren't out of the woods yet… this could still be another person. This could very well be a real hunt… A sharp inhale sounds just a few yards away. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming shut. When did that hunter get closer!? Had you misjudged how far away you were from him?!

"Only 4 more bullets, Little Cottontail… let's see if you can evade them all~"

Relief and terror washed over you simultaneously: Alastor. Your body was paralyzed with conflicting emotions, breath picking up as you hear footsteps stirring closer. You could feel the panic rising in your face, blood pressure raging; but you can also feel the traitorous, hazy heat that engulfed your core. Either way, Alastor had you completely on edge, your fragile mind was on the verge of caving in either way. Should you run away, or run to him? That was your conflict…

Knock knock

Your eyes fly open as you dare to look between your bent legs, spying a pair of steely, hungry brown eyes. Pupils mere pinpricks, the whites of his eyes were nearly glowing under the light of the moon.

"There's that sweet, little rabbit!"

You shrieked as you were pulled out of the log, knees and back scrapping against the wood of your shelter. When you met solid earth, you kicked and fought, eyes wide and animalistic. Your body still fell into conflict; you wanted this to be a real chase: FIGHT BACK. Alastor was quick to avoid your kicks, straddling your hips as he tried to restrain your flailing arms. Never did you make contact, but Alastor was cautious to avoid any accidental hits, all the same.

"Oh dear, was I wrong after all? Am I really still chasing a scared, feral little rabbit~? Or something bigger…" Alastor teased, managing to seize one of your hands. It was immediately pinned above your head as you thrashed, grunting and groaning in your efforts to escape. Alastor pressed further into you, eliciting a tight -lipped moan as you felt an unmistakable hardness rub against your core. He was enjoying this much more than his face allowed him to show…

"Be a good little pet, won't you? Won't you let me take you back to my cabin? I promise I'll make this quick and painless~"

You thrashed your head back and forth. You didn't want this to be quick. You didn't WANT it to be painless. You wanted more. MORE of this.

In a daring fit of heightened hormones and rushed decision making, a loud SLAP filled the air. You panted as your hand stung, Alastor's face now jerked to the left, looking away. A flushed, red print was painted across his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief. He sat there like this for a few moments, his grip on your hand all but gone. You took this opportunity to slink out from under him, using his dumbfounded expression as a gauge. Truly, how long did you have until he was grounded?

Sadly, it wasn't long, a slender hand cupping the offending, fading mark. You looked down as you saw something move, your mouth watering: his cock was even harder than before, twitching from the sudden outburst. A shaky, broken sigh left Alastor's trembling lips as he slowly looked back towards you. A deep dusty rose flooded his cheeks as he chuckled, his voice full of a wicked venom. His free hand fished for his revolver, the barrel now pointing straight at you.

"Alright, then… no more playing nice."

You immediately vaulted out of the way as a third shot rang out, impacting the earth you had just been sprawled upon. Alastor elegantly got to his feet, like a regal vampire exiting his coffin. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, pupils wide with desire as he watched you bob and weave into the trees.

"Three more to go," he growled, his grin widening madly as he broke out into a frenzied sprint.

The panic was steadily rising, as did your burning desire. You realized, with horror, that Alastor's pace nearly went in double time, and he was steadily gaining on you. And so, you figured if you were truly to get caught, it might as well be a trap for him too--

BANG

Shot number four rang out, a terror-filled scream igniting the night; this shot was less than a foot from your trembling, straining right leg. You muscles were scorched from the effort you put yourself in, core fully engaged as you tried to focus on breathing. You were unsuccessful, already far too overworked and overheated. You came to the harsh realization that you couldn't run much longer.

You started charting your course carefully, taking dips and turns in hopes to throw Alastor off of your trail… but ever the clever man, he never lost sight of you. And, despite your best efforts, he was nearly on top of your imaginary cottontail. You dared to look behind you, searching for the madman coming for you, only to see he was no where in sight. Your pace slowed down, confused as his footsteps cease. You came to a dead stop, spinning around wildly to find any sign of your darling partner. Your mouth ran dry as you panted, legs nearly giving out from under you. As you took in your surroundings, you feared that you may be lost… truly, genuinely lost.

"A-Al… Alastor? Baby...?" you rasp between pants, a hand coming up to your heaving chest. You take a few, cautious steps back towards the direction you came from, squinting harshly. Your eyes still had not adjusted to the low visibility of the dank, dark forest.

"A-Al… AL?!" you call desperately, scared that you may have lost him, or worse: maybe he was injured... You go to take off again, before a hand snakes around your throat. You couldn't scream as the hand squeezes your pulse, a cold, metallic object pressed into your lower back. Your fear transformed into relief, which transformed into desire, all within a span of few seconds. Familiar, heated lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Alastor's breath was heavy on your skin.

"I guess I didn't need all of my rounds, after all." Alastor nearly purred, despite his labored breathing. His warm breath followed his lips as they came to the junction of your jaw and neck, three fingers unfurling from your pulse. This left him just enough room to litter the bared skin of your neck with short, open mouthed kisses, your eyes fluttering closed. Even with only two fingers squeezing your throat, you still felt lightheaded, unable to escape. You shuddered under his grasp, your body instantly surrendering to his desire. It was official: the chase was officially over. Alastor knew that the moment you sighed into his touch.

"Good girl~"

In a rapid succession, you were grabbed and hauled over Alastor's wide shoulder, his free hand tucking his revolver away. Your hands flew down to grope and run over Alastor's body, your lungs still exhausted from the strife of running away. Alastor allowed your hands to explore, appearing unphased as he carried you out of the woods. He resisted every fiber in his being to not bend you over and fuck you into the damp earth; a filthy act for a filthy-minded girl like you. But, he had at least some modicum of class… he needed to make this last; he would ensure this was something you wouldn't soon forget.

-- You felt embarrassed by how rapidly your heart beat, how frantically you were tugging at Alastor's flannel, but when your eyes looked up to a different building, your heart nearly stopped. You were walking toward 'the shack', Alastor called it… THIS was where he took all of his wild game after hunting them down. Seeing your unease, he slapped you on the ass, hoping to chase away your nerves," Don't worry, darling… I told you I would be gentle~"

His words contradicted his actions as you were practically thrown into the shed, sprawled out onto the floor. Your eyes tried taking in your surroundings, but it was far too dark to see. You yelped as both of your hands were seized and tied with a coarse jute rope, the fibers pricking your wrists. When you felt Alastor leave you, your legs came together, heat still pooling in your lower abdomen," S-Sooo, Mr. Huntsman~ You've caught me~ What do you plan to d--" Your questioning was cut short as you were suddenly jerked onto your knees, your hands now taunt over your head. A few more tugs on your rope, and you were standing upright, struggling to balance on the balls of your feet. You wobbled as you heard shuffling behind you, rope being fastened, and the clink of Alastor's revolver laying on a flat surface.

Alastor left you in suspense like this for a few moments, as he brought his hands together with a satisfied hum. The crisp sound made you jump as if it were gunfire, your cunt nearly drooling as you strained to look for Alastor in the pitch.

"Now then… 'can't see very well like this, can we?"

A lantern was lit just in front of your face, startling you. You realized that Alastor had all but held his breath to get closer to you, those same, silent footsteps deceiving you again. You couldn't find the words to speak, eyes wide with disbelief and desire as you stared back at Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Ahhh, yes… Finally managed to capture you, you tricky thing~," he mused as he flicked the tip of your nose. He chuckled when you wiggled it back and forth and recoiled, almost mimicking the animal he claimed you to be. "No, I don't think you're privy to know what I plan to do to you, with words… But, I can certainly show you." He seized your cheeks roughly with one hand, puckering your lips as he closed the distance between your bodies," But you might enjoy that too, wouldn't you?" Alastor's other hand ran dangerously up your trembling thigh, his face cool and collected as you were practically panting under his touch.

"P-Please…"

Alastor sends you a questioning look, before grinning maliciously," I didn't realize animals could speak, let alone have permission to." A harsh grip on your thigh anchored you to Alastor's pelvis, and you felt the familiar, hardened length on your core. You whined, obeying in silence as Alastor ground against you. His mouth fell open as he pressed his hips again, eager to seek some friction.

"You'd like me to use you, wouldn't you…? Breed this body like a deranged rabbit while you're helpless, defenseless under my touch…" Your mouth watered at the idea, your eyes fluttering as his hand shifted to palm your ass. His smirk was very telling, both hands moving to spread and palm your backside properly. His touch was slow and sensual on your trembling, supple body.

"Or maybe I should lay my claim here… Uncharted wilderness is quite thrilling to explore, don't you think?" His breath was so low it rattled his own ribcage. Without warning, a groan was torn from both of your throats as you bucked into Alastor's hips. Your eagerness was not unwelcomed...

Alastor was rewarded with another broken, wanton moan for his scandalous ideas and his wandering hands. He realized, in that moment, he was telling you exactly what he wanted to do to you. And, in that same moment, he decided that he didn't fucking care.

"Or maybe… maybe I can't wait--" Alastor starts to drag his lips down your form, kissing down your neck, then the valley of your breasts, then your abdominals… before landing at the hem of your still-concealed underwear. "I'm quite parched, love… Surely you won't mind if I quench my thirst, first?" Alastor's hands snake up your thighs as your nightgown is pushed up, revealing his current target: your clothed loins. His pupils shrink as he inhales, almost nuzzling into your inviting cunt. You whine weakly when he gazes up to you with mesmerized eyes; he was as bent out of shape as you were, and he was struggling to keep it concealed… Was he really going to enjoy himself, or sink his teeth in? Your heart stuttered at either possibility.

You nodded down to Alastor, wobbling as you spread your legs as far as you could. Your wrists were reminded of their predicament as you tried to move, thrashing in your restraints. You didn't speak, a firm nod your answer and consent. As Alastor kissed your awaiting heat, he shifted your legs onto his shoulders, alleviating the pressure on your feet. Had you not been so aroused, you would be heavily flustered by this gesture: a kindness yet something so brazen, even for your sweet beau.

He squeezed the meat of your thighs, humming as he licked a warm, wet stripe between your covered lips, the fabric of your panties already drenched with your arousal. You swore you saw his eyelids flutter as he sighed against you, diving in more earnestly. You wailed with frustration, unable to feel the full effect of his tongue just yet. You cared very little, however, as some attention was better than none. Your struggled against your restraints once more, warning hands digging into your thighs. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simmered into a moan with each wave of pleasure. You wanted to scream as Alastor continued to tease you, unable to regulate your breathing or your moans.

He wasn't kidding; he wanted to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue dancing along your drenched panties wildly. He left no surface unmarked by his sinful, silver tongue. Alastor practically moaned around your sensitive bud, your mind reeling at the sensation as your hips bucked subconsciously. Whether it was because he was enjoying himself, or strictly to stimulate your clit, you weren't sure… but that little noise sent jolts of electricity right to your core.

Despite this: you were rewarded with a nip to your pearl, a whiney, breathy moan your weak rebuttal. You secretly hoped he would tear you apart, just to put you back together and break you again.

Your mind refocused as you felt your underwear being moved to the side, a bold, eager tongue now attending to your bare, puffy folds. You shrieked his name, whimpering from the stimulation. His tongue worked dexterously, licking and coddling every curve, dip, and crevice. Alastor's movements were now raw and unfiltered, MUCH to your delight.

Your legs caged his head, squeezing him closer to you as you felt your orgasm forming at an alarming rate. You couldn't help but mewl, head falling forward and limp as Alastor buried his face into your mound. His straight, rigid nose prodded your clit as he drove his tongue into your aching entrance, your taste and scent engulfing his thoughts. You let out a long, satisfied moan as he began to pump his long tongue in and out of you, working both his spit and your arousal in and out. The slick skin-on-skin squelching did nothing to calm the fire behind your eyes, toes popping with how violently they curled. Alastor continued his brutal pace, unable to get enough of your taste, scent, and special, little cries that were made just for him.

"F-fuhhh~ F-Fahhh--! Ahh! A-Al!" you cried, wanting desperately to use your words; you tried to give him a warning. You were near your climax, tears pricking your half-lidded eyes. You heard Alastor grunt into you, hands rubbing and kneading your thighs, as if asking you to crush his head more. You obliged, bucking into his mouth as your release started to approach. He had his mouth full, no doubt! Even so: you swore you heard Alastor moan and whisper into your folds hastily, suckling and swirling your clit to make you cum.

"F-Fuck-- Oh fuck, cum for me, then--"

Your body spasmed, head tossing back sharply,"F-Fuck, Al-- Al!!! Fuck, cumming--"

The dizzying affect swam over you swiftly, a scream that could be mistaken for pain filling the tiny shack you were in. The force and sudden rise in pleasure was overwhelming, almost maddening as Alastor wound you back down. You were gently set back onto your feet, legs shaking... All the while, his tongue never stopped, making you whine from overstimulation.

"A-Al… please, that's-- G-God! You can stop now-- Ahh~" You would have doubled over if your hands weren't restrained, your tongue lolling out from between your lips. The delightful slurping from below didn't cease, and seemed to become even more feverish. Alastor smiled up at you, parting for just a moment before licking his slick-covered lips.

" Am I not allowed to have seconds, dear?"

Your face seemed to catch on fire as you try to formulate a reply. However, Alastor's mouth knocked it out of you, head vacant as he continues to ravage you. He suckled on your abused clit, hands holding your hips in place as you tried to squirm away from his devious touch.

"F-Fuck! F-Fuck, Al, please--!!! T-Too much-- Ahhn-- T-Too much!!" you cried, your wrists chaffed against the rope that bound you.

Alastor did not relent, instead pressing you further into his face as he feasted upon you. His slurping and gulping nearly doubled with a grotesque volume, his eyes wide and watching you. You trembled under his intense gaze, rushing towards a very intense, unnecessary second orgasm.

"F-Fuck-- Alastor!! A-Al! Fuck, don't--" you whined, tears streaming down your face as the searing heat of the new orgasm washed over you," Pl-Please-- FUCK--"

Another shriek bounced off the walls as a hasty, overwhelming feeling flooded your loins. You winced with embarrassment as you felt a sudden gush of warmth coat your sex and thighs. Of course, Alastor was on the receiving end, but didn't seem to mind, his tongue only slowing when you were practically sobbing into the afterglow. Your legs completely gave out on you, wincing as your arms held your entire body aloft," F-Fuck… Fuuuuckkk…" you whined as your head spun, your eyes blurry from the pleased, hot tears that stained your face. A sweet, warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look Alastor's way.

"An absolutely breathtaking meal, darling…," Alastor panted, his eyes warm but still full of a lusty haze," Please… if you'll have me, I simply can't stop there."

When you gave him a weak but sure nod, Alastor nearly bolted to the secured rope, allowing you to descend to your knees. The warm wooden floor dug into your legs as you waited. Alastor was quick to resecure the rope before looping back to you. " If I were to ravage your pussy now, I'm afraid this little show might end early… So for both our sakes…" Alastor swiftly freed his aching cock, a hand lazily pumping his flushed member. Despite his aversion to touching himself, he sighed into the relief his hand provided.

"Won't you please… allow me to use your sweet lips instead, pet?"

How could you say no, with his words tumbling out sweetly?

With a speed that made Alastor dizzy, you beckoned him to you, tongue first. He allowed you to kiss the head of his flushed cock, eyes drinking in your expressions and your body. He had half a mind to cut the rope holding you hostage, but decided against it when you took him into your warm mouth. Alastor hastily covered his lips, stifling a groan as his other hand fisted your hair. You didn't mind, hollowing your cheeks as you took as much of him in as you could. His public hair tickled the very tip of your nose, his musk invading your senses. Had his mind been clearer, Alastor would've worried about your ability to breathe... but he had to focus on not throat fucking you first.

"Shit-- so warm--," Alastor groaned, his voice still muffled. Despite this, his words reached your perked ears, and causing your wet entrance to flutter around nothing. Alastor flinched, his hips spasming as you took him down to his base. He was jammed far into your throat, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax around his engorged member. A choked noise and a sputter erupted around his cock, a pleased moan eagerly following. As much as Alastor was enjoying himself, you would be lying if you said choking on Alastor's cock wasn't fun for you.

"Fuck, don't hurt yourself, darling-- I don't need-- FUCK--" The moment you started to bob your head, all words and worries flew out the window, the hand in your hair beginning to guide your descent. Alastor felt like he was being incinerated, his body electrified by your wriggling tongue and tight mouth. His restraint was beginning to wane, hair fanning across his sweat-slicked forehead," Fuck, you take this so well-- Take ME so well--"

Alastor panted, hardly able to keep his eyes open as you whined around him. His grip in your hair grew harsher, his hips beginning to stir.

"So malleable, so eager-- Good God--" Alastor's head fell forward as you created a delicious, tight suction around his dick. The sensation nearly drove him to bellowing, your name tumbling clumsily from his parched lips. He stared at the point where his cock disappeared into your mouth, then up to your teary eyes. Fresh tears spilled over your flushed cheeks, his words causing a shiver to run up your spine. Alastor, completely enthralled, felt his cock throb at the sight of your desperation, gritting his teeth," FUCK-- Damn it all--!"

Straining to reach out of sight, his hand ends up landing on a carving knife. Once he could grip it properly, he hastily swings above you. You flinch for a moment, before your arms relax and fall to your sides. You realized he cut you loose, but you had no time to dabble on the thought. Alastor's cock slid out of your mouth, your jaw setting into a neutral, open shape. Alastor started to stroke himself hastily, using his other hand to gesture in a circle," Turn around-- on all fours. NOW."

You didn't hesitate when that dark, brisk command was thrown your way, clambering like a newborn deer. You turn to look back at him, wagging your hind in a teasing way," Don't want to waste a drop, huh?" you teased, a coy smile on your face. Alastor laughed, breathy and high, as he fell to his knees. He easily towered over you as he aligned himself to your dribbling, plush entrance," You know me too well, love."

The plunge of his cock nearly knocked you onto your stomach, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. To your pleasant surprise, Alastor had bottomed out inside of you. There was a slight discomfort from the sudden intrusion (one that wasn't unwelcome) as a strong arm wrapped around your torso.

" B-Bear with me. I'll fill you up soon, dear--"

You nearly cried as Alastor began to move, hips already hammering into your most intimate place at an animalistic rate. You were truly fucking like rabbits, unable to do anything but chase your own desires. Alastor buried his face into your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his grunts. You were unable to stifle your own, the sounds of your ecstasy bouncing around the room. The steady, rhythmic squelching of your privates were almost drowned out by the steady plap, plap, plap against your ass with every brutish press. You were getting close... And as Alastor's voice rose with yours, you realized he couldn't be fa behind. You allowed yourself to fall forward, cheek smashed against the grain of the floorboards as you arched your back," F-Fuck… fuck me, Alastor-- Hah-- Oh god, please--" Your eyes slammed shut as Alastor's pace only increased, his hips angling in a way that stroked your g-shot with every press.

"Yes, love-- fuck yes, you want this? Harder? Faster? Fuck--" He accented your mental demands with more energy, a hand cupping your bouncing, right breast as the other caressed your stuffed pussy. He sought your puffy pearl at the apex of your cunt, and drew quick, deliberate circles into it.

" Fuck, fuck! I need you to cum-- Want you to cum--," Alastor begged, his breath hot and heavy in your ear," O-One more time, please-- then I'll make sure to fuck my-- Oh fuck! I'll fuck you full of my cum--"

Your mouth hung open, drool pooling under your cheek as you felt your orgasm building for the third time that night, your hands clawing into the wooden floor," F-Fahh-- ahh! Yes!!! Fuck me, shit-- fuck me stupid, Al!!!" you wailed, eyes flying open as he pinched your clit. You clamped resolutely around his cock, your body locking up-- Yes, yes, just a few more thrusts--

"FUCK!!!"

You came with a wail and a tremor, your lungs screaming for air as it was fucked right out of you. Alastor, watching and feeling your body unravel under him, was unable to last any longer. He pressed his forehead into your shoulder, humping once, twice, thrice until he delivered a deep, devastating thrust. Your name became a debauched mantra as you milked his cock, spurts of hot, white seed painting your core. You trembled as you felt it being fucked into you, Alastor sighing into your shoulder.

"Sh-Shit… Shit, I love you. God, I fucking love you--" Alastor cursed into your shoulder, his hips stirring again," I-I can't stop-- fuck, you keep sucking me back in--"

You whined as Alastor started to rut into you again, his hardened length not wavering in the slightest. Like an animal in heat, he proceeded to fuck you through his own climax, eager to fill you up again," F-Fuck, I'm sorry-- You feel too good. Fuck, this is--"

You did your best to look behind you, lips clumsily kissing his temple, his forehead-- whatever you could reach," H-Hahn… hah, it's okay! Pl-Please, use me… F-Fuck, you can use me again! I wanna feel you cum in me again, Al!"

Alastor needed little convincing, his overstimulation outweighed by his desire. The cries that dripped from your mouth were sweeter than the honey and slick between your legs," G-God-- God, mon amour-- FUCK!"

You were smiling deliriously as Alastor used your sensitive cunt to chase another high, head foggy and vision blurry. You could do nothing but whine and shake as you were not only fucked through your orgasm, but felt your loins boil with an impending, new release. You couldn't say a word as each thrust pushed a scream from your diaphragm, Alastor's own throes of pleasure mirroring yours. The both of you made eye contact, and for the first time in a long time you saw… Alastor wasn't smiling?

Alastor's brow was knit together, face hard and yet so flushed as his mouth hung open in a wide, desperate "O". You felt your walls flutter around Alastor, the sight almost as beautiful as his trademark smile. Hastily, Alastor pulled you up by your throat, squeezing as you were forced to face away… The growl that was rumbled into your ear did little to slow down your peak.

The smile that danced across your face was unmatched; you had gotten Alastor to completely melt into you, unable to keep his 'armor' on. He was drunk off of your body, and he was unable to hide just how much he wanted both of you to cum. You mentally cheered, unable to shake the feeling of victory as that tension in your belly snapped. You unleash a broken, primal scream as Alastor fills your womb with another load, his semen spilling out from your writhing cunt. Completely out of breath, both of your collapse to the floor. You were left gasping and wheezing as Alastor sunk into you deeper, fully sheathed and pressing into your cervix. The sensation just made you whimper into your afterglow, lips twitching as you both wound back down…

You both lay on the floor like this for a few moments-- hell, maybe for an hour-- trying to regain your bearings. Trembling hands caressed your body, while your own reached up to pet and stroke at soft, chestnut brown hair. A tired chuckle fills your ears as Alastor closes his eyes, a content sigh rolling off his chest.

"You never fail to amaze me. And, of course… you never fail to make me cum either," Alastor admits, a sheepish blush creeping across his face. You nod, your laughter just as meek," Y-Yeah… fuck, you… you did all the work," you quipped, feeling Alastor shake his head. He kissed at your shoulders, trailing them up your neck and to your heated cheeks.

"Darling, if anything deserves the praise, it would be your nethers… She put on quite a show." You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, the both of you laughing like teenagers," Or maybe your brain… for coming up with a delicious roleplaying scenario?"

You hum for a moment to contemplate, before sighing," Fair enough… I'll take that," you profess, looking up and back towards your exhausted partner," Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you again, for all of this... and-- sorry about slapping you earlier," you chuckle, your face burning under Alastor's sweet gaze. He seemed entirely unbothered, shrugging," Ahh, nothing but a passionate act in the heat of the moment. Think nothing of it-- as long as you don't mind me slapping this again~" You squeaked as your ass received a playful tap, like a friendly, sportsman’s slap of approval.

"Good job~"

You rolled underneath Alastor, his cock finally freed when you sprawled out onto your back. You invited him to lay his head on your chest, which he gladly accepted. You could feel the tension in his body dissipate the moment he laid down, his eyes fluttering closed. You brushed the hair away from his face, giggling at the adorable sight of your dopey, sleepy lover.

"Alastor... don't fall asleep on me, now. We still need to get back to the cabin." Alastor groaned, brow furrowing. Stubborn as a bull, he nuzzled into your chest face-first, sighing as your heartbeat lulled him," Just a few more minutes, dear… I don't believe either of us could stand, even if we wanted to."

You hummed, patting Alastor on the head as you conceded," Touché… But I blame you for that."

"And not our heated chase, dearest?"

You snort as you try not to laugh, belly aching from holding back," Fuck, that's fair... Maybe we can play a little closer to home next time?" You smile down at your partner as he adjusts himself. Finally, he came up for air as his chin settled between your breasts, his eyelids still heavy from exhaustion.

"Oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that? You know I love a good chase~"

He moved further up, caging your body with his as he gave you a tender, quick kiss," You can run, hide, do whatever you like... as long as we both have fun, that's all that matters– our legs be damned..." You can't help but nod and laugh, pushing Alastor back into your bosom. Your sleepy beau can't help but hum in approval, your chest a warm, welcoming pillow.

"You're right... that's all that matters. But really, I-- I love you, Alastor. I can’t help but thank you again. For all of this…" Your partner stills for a moment, a dark, intense flush coming across his face and neck. You can't help but laugh as he hides his face into your chest again, sighing dramatically," I love you too, mon ange... For now, I'll settle for saying it, as I'm far too tired to show you again right now..."

You chuckle as you crane your neck down, kissing his crown before letting your head thunk against the floor," You already show me more than enough, baby... More than you know."

The silence is calming, even comfortable as the two of you find yourselves drifting off to sleep. Thankfully, the autumn heat and the union of your bodies was more than enough to keep you warm. Both of you allowed yourselves just one, brief nap while the crickets and cicadas harmonized outside the window... A perfect, peaceful conclusion to a passionate, relentless hunt.

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #human!alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x oc #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #human!alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #female reader #alastor x female reader #GOD THIS TOOK TOO LONG HAHAHAHA #ieatcocoa I hope this is what you wanted and like #I get so nervous sometimes dhoudhodhdoidjd #but I wanted to keep this a surprise for you #hdohsosihsisoisjsvdiodius #IF ITS NOT YOUR BIRTHDAY IT IS NOW

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bau-drabbles · 9 months

Note

other anon but pls more in depth drabble about thigh riding! i don’t mind either sub or dom but a longer version of both is chefs kiss

a/n: ah thank you sm lovie 🤭🤍 i did dom spence, i write these all at 12am so i know it's rushed and ooc 😭‼️

mdni! 18+

this man can probably come alone from how you feel around his thigh. he flexes it for you, the tense muscle providing extra friction for you to grind upon. his back is leaned against the couch, his hazel eyes sparkling with desire and amusement at how needy you were. truthfully it stroked his huge ego and made him want to split you open just as you deserved. his head was leaned back as he hummed an approval of how well you were doing, it was everything in him not to ravish you here and right now

"aww look at you, angel. all soaked f'me aren't you?" he chuckles darkly, his fingers trailing down your stomach to the space between your legs. such a pretty sight when he sees your walls clenching around his thigh and he can't help but smirk, looking back at your eyes again. his curls have fallen across his forehead, his pupils blown with pure lust and adoration

"is this all for me?" he hums, his hands coming down to press your hips tighter around his thigh again as he aides you in the back and forth motion. your grinding is getting sloppy, his trousers were soaked with your juices but he doesn't care. he's like an animal, chasing after the high he's so desperately wants to give you

his middle and index fingers trail between your legs, separating your walls to see how your swollen clit and he breaths a little deeper in satisfaction. his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, feeling the familiar twitch in his boxers. his erection was straining against your other leg but he laid no mind. his fingers thrust softly but firmly inside your eager cunt, taking them all the way to his knuckle while he watches with amusement. you can feel his thumb rub against your clit at the same time and it makes you pause slightly, whimpering his name for more. your thighs buck around his hand, hoping to stir him on for more

but reid has other plans, of course he does

"did i give you permission to stop?" he demands, a light but firm slap landing on your ass while his brows furrow. you shake your head no, your body shaking slightly as your hips stutter to resume grinding against his thigh again. he nods briefly, the hint of his smirk reappearing back on his lips

"you look so pretty for me, love. so eager, desperate for me to stretch you open, hm?" he laughs teasingly which only adds on to your whimpering. and when he's decided you've endured enough, he takes control again.

he can feel a small ache as he keeps his thigh tense for you but he daren't move, not when you're teetering on the edge of pleasure. he watches every facial feature of yours contort with pleasure and it only adds onto his need. he watches with a smirk as you all but fall apart in his arms, body shaking and legs trembling while you collapse onto him again, his open arms catching you like he always does. you take a breath in before your back meets the bed, his lips kissing you with fervor and intensity while they trail down your body and right between your legs where he looks excitedly from you and then to your wet cunt. he presses open mouthed kisses across your thigh before flicking the tip of his tongue against the bundle of nerves, causing you to whimper his name

"such a good little girl, i'll give you your reward baby"

#asks #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid

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allysunny · 4 months

Note

Hii, firstly I LOVE ur writing so much, you’re really talented 🌟💘

Congrats on 200 followers, SOOOO DESERVED!!!

I was wondering if you could do 27+r for Bruce 🥰 something like he left to protect her, it hurt him more than anything and he realized that it was mistake and wants her back. Happy ending tho, I’m a sucker for that haha 😄❤️

Thank you in advance, much love! 🫶🏻

“You left me” / “I was protecting you” / “You LEFT me” + Protecting you x Bale!Bruce

Words: 15.8k words

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, cheating, lots of angst, pregnancy, break-up, suggestive themes and one (1) very poorly written and short nsfw scene (it's like 5 lines long I think), one (1) death, Bruce Wayne being a mess (relatable), a lot of heartbreak and pining, not proofread. I literally wrote this in a span of like, one week, and it's not proofread, so oh my god I'm so sorry if there's anything wrong with it...

A/N: Oh my god. Hello everyone. Holy fuck. Okay so, I hope you guys are interested to know what the fuck happened here. I don't want to waste any more time (the explanation is quite big), so I'll add it after the fic, in the final Author Note. Small context: I got two requests that were kinda similar, so I decided to mix the two together!

Just a heads up, due to reasons that I'll expand on at the end, I feel like the end drags on a bit. I did not proofread because I was a bit saturated with this piece, and I think that at some point, I actually cried because I was panicking real hard.

Anyway!!! I love Bruce!!!! I hope you guys enjoy this <3

Bruce knew you were the one after you'd first spilled coffee all over his suit.

You just looked so worried, your pretty eyes wide with fear as you tried to think of what to say to this stranger you'd just bumped into – or so he thought. You, in fact, knew exactly what you wanted to say to him.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, asshole!" you'd exclaimed, looking at what remained of your iced coffee. "This thing was almost 10 dollars, what am I supposed to do now?"

Bruce eyed you up and down, honestly surprised you had the guts to raise your voice at him. Didn't you know who he was? Did you simply not care?

Either way, he was enthralled.

"Hey!" you waved your arms in front of him, trying to get his attention. "Look at me!"

"May I be so bold to point out you spilled your coffee onto me?" Bruce asked with a small scoff. "If anything, you are the one supposed to do something about it."

"This wouldn't have happened if you watched where you were going." You were very pretty, Bruce noted. Your eyes seemed to sparkle, and your arms were crossed over your chest, making his eyes dart towards it.

"And what am I supposed to do?" He replied.

"I don't know! Give me my money back or something, that coffee is super expensive! It's my special celebration cup!"

""Your money back?"

"Yeah! You're dressed up all nice, I bet that suit costs more than my rent."

"Oh, really?" Bruce was amused one. You were feisty, clearly. "And what makes you think that?"

"No one walks around Gotham dressed like that, unless they're rich, powerful, law agents, or I don't know, Bruce Fucking Wayne."

"Bruce Wayne? Does he dress like this?"

You scoffed, shaking your head and gesticulating a lot with your arms.

"Probably! I mean, it's not like anyone has ever seen the guy, but let's be honest, he probably dresses in expensive as fuck silk, or like, placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies or something."

You only seemed to get better by the second.

Bruce placed a hand on his chin, truly intrigued by your line of thinking.

"Placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies?" He had to admit, this was pretty amusing. Did you have any sort of filter? If so, he never wished that you turned it off.

"Maybe – I don't know – It's Bruce Wayne, so who actually does know? Maybe he's running a society of baby-shitting placenta. It's Gotham. One day we have masked vigilantes jumping off roofs, and the other, bomb threats. Regular Tuesdays for us Gothamites. But the real question here is," you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. "What are you going to do to repay me my very well-earned 10$ worth of iced coffee?"

Bruce was just about to reply, when a very familiar voice spoke up behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne!" Lucius's Fox deep timbre was unmistakable, and Bruce turned around to offer him a polite smile. "I'm happy to run into you, there's a few things – " He took one good look at his boss's shirt and grimaced. "Hell, Mr. Wayne, how'd that happen?"

The younger man turned around to glance at you. Poor, poor you, with eyes even wider, and a matching mouth. You blinked several times, looking from his shirt to his face, and from his face to his shirt.

"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot to introduce myself," he put a hand forward, offering you what you thought was the most dazzling smile ever. Geez, women must basically throw their panties at him.

"Bruce Wayne. Baby-shitting-placenta cult leader."

You blinked a few more times, wishing the earth swallowed you whole. You'd literally never done anything wrong in your life. Sure, you talked trash about Suzy Carpenter's sweater in 8th grade, but it was warranted – it did look like vomit – and you had stolen a yogurt from a coworker once, but surely that did not warrant running into Bruce Fucking Wayne of all people, spilling coffee all over his clothes, and accuse him of eating placenta. Maybe Suzy still held a grudge.

"Mr. Fox, how about I stop by your office later today? I'm quite busy this morning. Have something to do."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne. I'll be patiently waiting." Lucius gave him and you an acknowledging nod, before walking away.

You were still staring at Bruce, completely at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? Was there anything at all you could say?

"I – Mr. Wayne, I – Well, I'm – I," you stuttered and stuttered, and Bruce could only chuckle, before shaking his head. He looked to his left and took a few steps, opening a door before him.

"After you."

Confusion took over your expressions. What was he up to? Where was he going?

"I promise not to kidnap you into a placenta cult," he chuckled, nodding towards the door. You looked at the name written in green letters on the glass. "Coffee House". "I believe I have a cup of coffee to make up for?"

He offered you a very subtle version of that dazzling smile of his, and you couldn't help but return in kind.

"I'm not going to apologize or kiss your ass or anything," you told him.

"That's fine," Bruce shrugged, "I didn't want you to."

You pondered your options.

You didn't know this man. But someone had called him Mr. Wayne, and now that you take a good look at him, he does look like the face gossip magazines and tabloids love to splatter on the cover. And he really did not look like he meant any harm.

And you really wanted a cup of coffee. "Alright, Mr. Placenta Cult Leader."

It did not take long for Bruce to fall in love with you, with your kindness, with your looks, with your beautiful personality. You always maintained that feisty attitude of yours, refusing to treat him or anyone in his world differently simply because you were now a part of it.

And Bruce loved it.

Loved how you couldn't care less what other socialite families thought of you, eating chocolate covered fruit after chocolate covered fruit at fundraisers, loved the way you latched onto him and "claimed" your property so to say whenever other women approached him and tried their luck (not that it would've worked, this man was whipped for you), telling other, more arrogant seniors off whenever they made judgements on yours, or Gotham forbid, Bruce.

But above all, he loved you,

And he made sure to show you just how much whenever possible. He wasn't the best with words, never had been, so he tried to show his devotions through actions. Breakfasts in bed, gentle caresses while you cuddled together on the couch, copies of your favourite books, soft kisses pressed against the hollow of your throat while he brought you to a climax with his fingers. Bruce would never stop showing you his love, for as long as he lived.

Alfred was very fond of you too.

The two of you had gotten along very well immediately after your first meeting, with Alfred telling you all sorts of embarrassing stories from Bruce's childhood. You laughed and replied in kind, and the two of you sort of teamed up to make his life a living hell (in the best way possible), teasing him to no end and cursing him with the worst jokes known to mankind.

Alfred too could see you were the one for his boss.

Saw it in the way Bruce looked at you, like everyone else in the world was gone and the only thing that mattered was the shine in your eyes. Saw it in the way he bent over to whisper sweet nothings into your ear that made you giggle out loud, just the way he saw Thomas Wayne do with his wife.

Saw it in the way Bruce paced holes into his study, pondering on what ring to get you. He bothered him to exhaustion that day, wondering about the colours you'd prefer, what size and shaped rock to get you, how, when, and where to propose.

"It has to be perfect, Alfred," he muttered, shaking his head and sighing incessantly. "I can't just pick any ring. It has to be meaningful. Her birthstone? No. No, absolutely not, that's lame. It's lame – it's dated. She wouldn't like it. Maybe she doesn't even like her birthstone. A diamond. A diamond! No. Out of the question. What if she doesn't like diamonds?"

"If I may give you a piece of advice, sir?" Alfred asked. However entertaining it was to see the mighty Bruce Wayne freak out over an engagement ring, this man was still his boy, and he couldn't bear to see him distressed. "If I recall, it was in your mother's will that her ring was to be stored and kept locked away in the possibility of her passing. I believe it is stored away in her old jewel box, as she was never buried with it. She wanted you to have it."

Bruce's eyes softened, as they often did at the mention of his parents.

"My mother's ring?" he asked to which Alfred nodded dutifully.

"It has been in your family for more than 6 generations now. Your mother wanted you to have it."

Some mixed feeling akin to grief and love passed through his eyes, and Bruce found himself staring at the floor. His mother's ring. A family heirloom, passed on from generation to generation. And now it was his. And would become yours. A million thoughts could've crossed through his mind. "Should I give something this important to her?" or "Is she the right person for this ring?" or maybe even "This is far too important. I need to think twice before making this decision".

But surprisingly, the only thought that came to him was "There is no one out there more deserving of this ring than her".

It was endearing, really, and Alfred Pennyworth was more than happy to see the boy he'd watched grow and loved as his own become his own man, and finally find the love he so much deserved.

When you got home on a warm May night and showed off your ring to him, smiling from ear to ear, eyes red and makeup slightly smudged from the tears you'd no doubt shed, he hugged you tightly and wished you all the best. He was sure the late Mr. and Mrs. Wayne would've loved you, and his eyes teared up at the thought.

Bruce caught sight of this and made his way towards the older man, worried that something might be wrong, the answer almost made him cry as well.

"It seemed like only yesterday I was patching your arm up after a rough fall, Master Wayne. And here you are today, carrying the legacy of your family, a man of your own, about to embark on this beautiful journey that's marriage. I am so very proud of the man you have become, and I'm sure your parents would too."

The two of them hugged warmly. Alfred was the only person besides you who got to see the more vulnerable side of Bruce – well, rather, you were the other person beside him. Having grown up with only his butler, Bruce saw him as a father figure. Sure, he'd never be able to replace his actual dad, but Bruce looked up and admired Alfred very much, considering him part of the family. No one seemed to care about him as much, and he was forever grateful.

That very night, you three toasted with champagne, sharing stories and anecdotes from Bruce's childhood, your relationship, and making plans for the future. And after Alfred had long retired for the night, Bruce took you in his arms, carried you off to his bedroom and made sure to remind you over and over again just how much he loved you.

After the engagement, Bruce told you about his double identity as Batman. You'd never suspected it – you were both responsible adults, each had your own job and errands to run. Not to mention that Bruce was the CEO of a whole company. To you, it was normal if he had to cancel one or two dates, or if you went a few days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, and sometimes it made your heart ache, but you were a busy woman yourself, and always found yourself surrounded by things to do; hobbies, errands, work – you always had a lot going on, so Bruce's absence felt normal.

He was afraid you'd leave him, but in true you fashion, it just made you even more in love. The man you adored more than anything and wanted to spend the rest of your life with was the one keeping Gotham safe at night. You begged him there and then to show you all his cool gadgets, teach you how everything worked, and your mouth watered at the possibility of having sex in what you called "the Batcar".

"Batcar?" Bruce asked, cringing.

"No – that sounds terrible. Hmmm... Batengine?"

"It's called the Tumbler, and that's all. No Bat prefixes."

"No – no, it doesn't work like that. It needs a name. Oh. OH – Oh, holy fuck. Okay, get ready for this." You placed your hands in front of you, smiling. "You ready?"

"Just get on with it."

"I was just making sure you were ready. Okay listen. The Batmobile."

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

And then he made your wish come true, carrying you off towards the Batmobile.

Later, when you were curled up in his arms, you grinned, placing a cheeky kiss on his jaw.

"You're wearing the suit next time.”

Your engagement was happily lived.

You and Bruce tried to keep it a secret for as long as you could, wanting to enjoy some time together away from the prying eyes of Gotham, but as soon as one photographer caught you taking a spoon to your lips, and the beautiful diamond ring caught in the light, it was over.

“So much for privacy,” you muttered, collapsing on your couch, gripping the latest gossip magazine. The words “WAYNE HEIR TO FINALLY SETTLE! Billionaire playboy finally tamed!?” were plastered on the cover, as well as a big picture of you hiding your face with your left hand as Bruce brought you close to him. “I wonder if they’ll ever leave us alone.”

“Probably not. You’ll get used to it; it comes with the name.” Bruce kissed the top of your head, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled and sat up straight, taking a sip from it and humming in delight.

“This is real good. Did Alfred make it?”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I would make a good cup of coffee?” Your fiancé asked, sitting beside you. One hand snaked around your waist and brought you closer, and the other softly flicked your nose.

“You burned the coffee beans last time you tried. I don’t even know how that’s possible, Bruce,” you sighed.

“I did my best.” Was his response.

“Maybe stick to being Bruce Wayne by day, and Batman by night. I love a good alliteration, but you were not meant to be a barista.”

Bruce chuckled and kissed you, tasting the sweet coffee off your lips. He hummed, gazing at you through his dark lashes.

“You’re right, this is good. Most likely wasn’t made by me.”

“It definitely wasn’t made by you.”

“You are such a hater,” Bruce sighed, playfully kissing your nose. “I’m never making you any more coffee from now on.”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled at him jokingly.

“Is that a promise?”

Bruce just shook his head and bent down to kiss you. You smiled against his lips, and he took the opportunity to give your waist a good squeeze, causing you to flinch.

“Stop that! I’m going to spill this all over the couch!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time – I recall someone spilling coffee all over me and somehow making it my fault,” Bruce joked, raising a quizzical brow. You smiled fondly at the memory. It was your favourite story to tell.

“You weren’t watching your step. It wasn’t my fault.”

“You bumped into me.”

“No, you bumped into me because you weren’t paying attention. And then you made me spill your coffee all over you.” You smiled and kissed him again. When you pulled away, you felt him chase after you, capturing your lips with his own once again.

Brushing his lips against yours, he murmured, “And I’m glad I did. I got to meet the love of my life that way.”

“You’re so corny, Bruce Wayne. I wonder what the public would think of you if they saw you like this.”

“I don’t care what the public thinks of me as long as you’re by my side.”

You smiled, and so did he. Truer words had never been spoken.

Now that you knew he was Batman, you worried more often.

What before was considered simply a “busy night for Mr. CEO” was now “night out in Gotham, fighting criminals and possibly getting injured”. You found yourself pacing circles around your bedroom, biting on your nails, and hoping that Bruce would come home soon.

You’d asked Alfred for some tips – how could he appear so relaxed knowing that the boy he treated as his own son was out there, doing what he did? Knowing that he put himself in the face of danger so often and sometimes with no regard for his own life?

“It’s hard, Miss,” he told you over a warm cup of tea. “But in the end, Master Wayne knows what he is doing. And now he has one more reason to get back home safely. Everything will be alright.”

And thankfully, he usually did.

You two had a sort of unspoken deal.

Bruce would always wake you up whenever he returned, even if just to let you know he was safe and home. Sometimes, you’d wake up, insisting on checking him for bruises and marks, and even going as far as patching them up.

“The kitchen has better lighting, c’mon,” you mumbled, voice still coated in exhaustion. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, yawning as you made your way towards the kitchen to deal with his bruises. It was routine, at this point. Bruce sat down, you opened your first-aid kit, you two had a snack and went back to bed. It was domestic, in a way. Not really something a regular couple would do, but you and Bruce had never really been regular.

“You’re lucky that one isn’t big,” you said, pointing towards the purple bruise forming on top of his right pectoral. You’d seen worse – sometimes he came home with bullet wounds, or deep gashes on his skin. Not that this was any more reassuring, but you were just glad that compared to other nights, he didn’t seem to be suffering too much. “It should heal in a few days, as long as you keep applying the cream.”

“What would I do without you?” he asked, with a soft smile. This is how you knew Bruce had truly returned home. Some nights he’d be far too tired to speak, choosing to kiss you and softly touch you to remind you of his love. Others, he would lock himself up in the Batcave, somehow convinced he wasn’t worthy of you. Of course you offered to talk to him, to help carry his burdens, but he never wanted to drag you into that side of his life, so most of the time, he would keep to himself.

Right now, though, he seemed to be doing fine. He told you patrol was rather easy, there were no major criminals out, and that nothing was wrong. His smiles and chuckles meant that Bruce, your Bruce was back.

“I don’t know,” you said, moving to open the fridge. As soon as you did, you turned away from it and gagged. “Shit – that’s disgusting,” you said, closing the door and shaking your head.

“What?” Bruce turned to you. “Is there something wrong?”

“I think there must be something rotten in here, it smells foul. Fuck, it smells so disgusting, I think I’m going to vomit,” you mumbled, moving away from the fridge as quickly as you could. Bruce got up right after and carefully opened the door. Nothing. Nothing seemed to smell rotten – nor it would make any sense if it did. Alfred was always on top of groceries, and never in his life he recalled a moment where something was rotten or went to waste.

“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you. “I can’t smell anything bad.” Searching through the items, he opened and closed lids, smelling whatever was inside. Everything seemed to be intact.

“Are you serious? It smells disgusting – close that door!”

“Honey, I can’t find anything in here that smells bad. Maybe you’re just sensitive or something.” Bruce closed the door and walked towards you, wrapping you around his arms. “We should go to sleep. It’s late.”

You nodded into his chest and allowed him to carry you back to bed.

As you drifted off to sleep, you thought of how nice it would be if every single day was like this – patrol-wise. Bruce would come home with barely any scratches, you’d take care of him in about 10 minutes, and before you knew it, you’d be back in bed, hugging him tightly against you.

Unfortunately, the future held other plans.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t The Dark Knight himself,” a very familiar voice said.

Bruce turned around and faced the familiar mask of the Scarecrow, the man he knew to be Dr. Jonathan Crane. And he seemed to be in top shape – last time he’d seen the bastard, he was mumbling incoherently and out of his mind. How he’d gotten himself out of Arkham, Bruce had no idea, but he was sure to send him back there in no time.

“Crane.” Bruce said, ready to fight at any time. He knew Crane used a special toxin to induce fear in his enemies, and although he was immune to it, he had no idea what other people he’d convinced to do his dirty work. Had no idea if he should suspect any surprise attacks and did not want to take chances.

“You know, it’s funny that I find you here, especially after all the… studying I was doing just last night.” Crane paced around the alley, trying to get Bruce’s – the Batman’s – attention. “I was thinking, what is the big bad bat afraid of?” Placing a hand on his chin, he pretended to be deep in thought.

“Cut the crap Crane,” Bruce all but spat, “What do you want?”

Crane – the Scarecrow – however, did not seem in the mood to stop.

“At first, I couldn’t quite get it. After all, you’re just a man,” Crane put extra emphasis on his words. Bruce saw right through him. He wasn’t the first one who tried to make him feel helpless. “But then, it hit me.”

The Scarecrow kept walking around, weaving a narrative to get into Bruce’s head. The latter one stood his ground. He had half a mind to slam Crane against the nearest wall and just hand him over to the authorities, who’d already been called and were on their way, but part of him wanted to hear whatever the maniac had to say.

He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, but something inside him stirred. Crane looked carefree, relaxed. What had he done?

“Tell me, Bruce,” he said the name with a twisted kind of glee, something that made Bruce’s stomach drop unpleasantly. “Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?”

What?

How did he know about him?

Most importantly, how did he know about you? Had he investigated you? Put the pieces together? Had Bruce accidentally left any sort of clue that led him to make the connection?

“Ah – right,” Crane said, removing his mask and offering Bruce a sadistic smile, “You thought no one would figure out your little secret, would you, Batman? How unfortunate.”

In about a second, Bruce was close to Crane, gripping him by the collar of his shirt.

“What have you done to her!?” He snapped, anger clouding his judgement.

“Ah, ah, ah! Now, don’t be crass, Bruce, we’re both respected men and can do this the hard way or the easy way. And I would hate for someone to find out your little secret. Wouldn’t you agree?” The man smiled mockingly, making Bruce’s blood boil.

“Who knows!? Who have you told?” he roared. All judgement and common sense had jumped off the window. Bruce remembered his training; remembered how he was told to keep his emotions at bay. Use his head, not his heart.

“This is where things get complicated now, Batman.” Crane spoke calmly. “I’m the only one who’s aware of your little secret.” Bruce almost sighed in relief. “But that can easily change. Help me get what I want, and I won’t tell a soul. Do anything to stop me, and I’ll let the whole world know who’s hiding under the mask. And believe me – every Arkham inmate would like to know.”

Bruce lowered the Scarecrow onto the ground, breathing heavily. Jonathan Crane knew his identity, knew who he was, where he lived, knew who his wife was. If he didn’t play this correctly, you’d be in great danger.

Reaching towards his pocket, Crane pulled out a small phone.

“In here, I have all the information about you, and the Missus. If you cross me, call for backup, or do anything that would sabotage my plan, I’m sending this file to every phone in Arkham City.”

Bruce weighed his options. He had to be careful. Get the phone out of Crane’s hands, lock him up –

A loud gunshot could be heard through the alley, and the man with the mask in his hand fell on the ground. It took a while for Bruce to understand what was going on, but Jim Gordon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“I didn’t say you could shoot –“

“Sargeant, we’ve been after Crane for months now, I wasn’t going to let him go this easily!” A younger man in a GCPD office called out, moving towards Bruce and the now dead body lying on the floor.

Jonathan Crane was dead. The Scarecrow was dead. The only person who knew his secret was now dead. Instinctively, he bent down to pry the phone from the dead man’s hands. With a few clicks, he realised he wasn’t bluffing. A message with a large file entitled THE BAT was ready to be sent at any time. Bruce deleted the thing and destroyed the phone with his bare hands.

That had been close.

Too close.

The GCPD had killed Crane, and while normally Bruce would be against the killing policy, part of him kept thanking whatever inexperienced officer had decided to shoot him.

That was too close.

Crane had said no one else knew of his identity. What if he was bluffing? What if the phone was just a means to threaten him, meanwhile, everyone back in Arkham already knew?

“You okay?” Bruce turned to look at Jim Gordon’s worried expression. “It’s not often we see the Batman worried.”

“He knew who I am.”

Gordon took a step back – quite literally – eyes wide as he put his hands on his hips.

“Did he now?”

“He was going to tell everyone in Arkham City should I not help him along with his plan.”

Both men remained silent, staring at each other, before Gordon turned to look at his officers.

“I know you stick to your no-killing policy, but maybe this one was for the – “

The Batman was gone.

“ – Best.”

He’d spent the night at the cave, terrified to return to you.

What was he going to do?

Jonathan Crane had found out about him, so who’s to say someone else wouldn’t? Sure, the average criminal could not simply put together that he was Bruce Wayne, but there were always going to be people like Crane, who held big grudges and had a very high intellect.

It was simply a matter of time before someone else found out about you.

And Bruce couldn’t have that.

He ran Crane’s words over and over again in his head.

Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?

He was right. While he was out at night, protecting the city, you were at home, with no one to protect you. He couldn’t bring you along – that was out of the question. And he couldn’t confine you to some secluded area. He knew you’d get upset that he was treating you like a baby, assuring him you could take care of yourself just fine.

You couldn’t.

Bruce had to protect you. He had to keep you safe, out of harm’s and criminal’s ways. Tonight, it was Crane, merely threatening to tell everyone about you. Tomorrow, it could be someone doing good on their promise.

He tried hard to think of what to do.

And the only idea that seemed like it could work, made his heart ache immensely.

He loved you. He loved you more than what he could possibly say. It tore him apart to be away from you, it broke him to simply think of hurting you.

And yet, it would keep you safe.

Bruce loved you.

So, so much.

He loved you so very much, that he was willing to do whatever he had to keep you safe from harm.

It would break his heart, yes. And yours too, surely. But after tonight, he couldn’t risk it. He would go the lengths of the earth to keep you safe and sound. He made his way towards the Manor and thought over his plan.

There was no way you’d believe him if he ever told you he did not love you. No, that wouldn’t work. You knew him far too well to know when he was lying.

He couldn’t say he was trying to protect you either. One thing he loved the most about you, was your stubbornness. If he told you all he was trying to do was keep you safe, you’d laugh in his face and promise you some measly criminals did not phase you. It warmed his heart, in a way, to know you’d stick with him through thick and thin, but it also made him worry.

What could he possibly do to keep you away from him?

And that’s when it hit him.

You had to see it.

It wasn’t an ideal solution – hell, he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to even think about it. But if it would keep you safe? Bruce was willing to give it a try.

You’d gotten home earlier from work. Bruce knew this. You were supposed to get home around 6 and a half on Tuesdays, but it was currently 6 and you were already hanging your coat by the door.

“Good afternoon, Miss.” Alfred said with a polite nod, hurrying to your side. “You’re home earlier than expected.” A lie. Bruce had spoken to your coworkers earlier, and they’d told him you’d be off work sooner than expected. Alfred was in on the whole plan as well. It didn’t please him one bit, but he knew once Bruce got an idea, he would go through it until the very end.

“I told you to stop with the ‘Miss’, Alfred, my name is fine. It’s been fine for four years, and I’m sure it’ll be fine for the rest of our lives.” You smiled at him. You’d been trying to get Alfred to use your name for all the years you’d been dating Bruce, but to no avail.

“I’m sorry Miss,” he replied. “Old habits die hard. And please, allow me. It’s part of my job.”

“You’re family, Alfred. What would it take for you to call me by my name?”

“A handsome raise by Master Wayne.”

“I’ll see that he takes care of it right away.”

Alfred smiled as you turned to make your way towards the bedroom, and when you were no longer facing him, your expression turned to one of sadness. Was this really what it had come to? Was he about to go on with this?

He didn’t want to, but there was no way he was going against his boss’s rules.

Alfred sighed sadly, before following you.

“I’m afraid Master Wayne is busy.”

“Oh,” you hummed, “It’s okay. I’ll just wait for him to return.” You continued walking.

“No, Miss – he’s in his office. He’s told me not to disturb him, nor let anyone do it, since he’s working on some very important projects for Wayne Enterprises.”

Weird. Bruce never shut you out, even when he was busy. Sure, he might have things to do, but he would always keep his door open should you want to talk to him, or just kiss him.

“Well, that’s fine, I’ll just say hello to him and go take a shower.” You offered Alfred a smile and turned to instead walk towards Bruce’s office. “Did he tell you what work? He never mentioned anything about a project. Is it new?”

“I’m not sure Miss.” Alfred said, his heart beating slightly faster now that you approached the office’s door. He knew exactly what to expect once you opened the door, but it didn’t really make it easier. “He told me he was going to be busy all afternoon, told me not to go in, and closed the door.”

“Weird. Are you sure he’s alright?”

“I suppose so, Miss.”

You furrowed a brow. Odd. And it’s not like he told you anything at all – letting you know he’d be busy or working up until late.

“That’s alright, Alfred. I’ll go check up on him. He must be really tired,” You said, and approached the door. And now, you were even more confused than ever. Weird sounds were coming from inside the office. You could make out two voices – Bruce’s, of course (you’d know his voice from a mile away), and a female one.

What in the world could Bruce be possibly doing behind locked doors with a woman?

You stilled, straining your ears to better make out the noises coming from inside. And you flushed deep red once the realisation hit you. Grunting, groaning, moaning.

No.

It couldn’t be, now, could it? There was no way.

You turned around to face Alfred, whose face seemed to go white as a sheet of paper.

“Y-You said he locked himself inside and sent you away?” You asked.

“Yes, Miss.”

“O-Okay.” You mumbled, facing the door.

The voices got louder. The female voice got higher and shriller, and tears clouded your vision. You mustered up all the courage you could find in yourself, and burst the door open, gasping loudly at the scene before you.

A naked woman was lying on top of your fiancé’s desk, cheeks flushed and hands desperately clawing at his back – Bruce’s back. He was on top of her, hand hidden in the crook of her neck as he groaned, rutting faster against her.

You stilled in your place, completely paralyzed. There were no possible words to describe what you were feeling now. Anger? Heartbreak? Sadness?

The woman let out a loud moan and wrapped her legs tighter around him.

“You like that?” Bruce grunted, lifting his head to look at the woman, who replied with another broken moan and a tug of his hair.

“Bruce?” you said, heart breaking in a million pieces.

He looked up. Really looked up, staring into your eyes. Inside him, something broke as well. He was doing this for your own good. For your safety. He had to keep you away, had to give you the life he knew you couldn’t have as his wife. It was too dangerous.

“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly getting away from the woman on the desk. He stared at you, dumbfounded, scrambling around to quickly get his clothes.

“Hey – hey – what are you doing?” The woman asked, looking at him, before turning to you and her eyes widened. “Oh!”

You scoffed, looking in between the two, and stormed away, tears running down your cheeks.

“Honey!” Bruce called. He quickly managed to put on a pair of pants, and ran after you, heart pounding in his chest. You were mad. This was really happening. He was going to forever ruin the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, and all because of the Batman. He’d betrayed you and broken your heart.

But it was for your own good.

“I can’t believe this,” you said through gritted teeth, walking towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind you. Bruce was able to catch it right before it shut closed, and the expression in your face was sure to haunt him forever. Your lovely eyes, usually bright and lively, were dull and red. Your tear-streaked face was something Bruce had never wanted to see in his life – at least not when it pertained to something bad.

“Honey, please, it’s not what it looks like.” He pleaded, walking towards you.

You were quick to move aside.

“Don’t give me that not what it looks like bullshit! I saw you Bruce – God damn it, I saw you with another woman.” You said, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably. “How could you!?”

“Look, darling, if you could just let me explain –“

“Oh! Explain!” You hurried inside the closet, fetching one of your travel suitcases. There was no way you were staying inside this house – his house – any longer. You needed to get out. Needed fresh air, needed to get away from him. “What is there to explain? How you were balls deep inside some woman you’ve found somewhere? Oh, really nice, Bruce, lovely explanation!”

“You have to understand –“ Bruce explained, in between shallow breaths. “You weren’t supposed to find out, you were supposed to be at work.”

“Ah, yes. Of course I wasn’t supposed to find out.” You scoffed and busied yourself with throwing clothes inside your suitcase. “That much I know.”

“I’m sorry – “

“I’m sure you are.”

“I didn’t want it to come to this!” Bruce snapped, and you finally turned to him.

“Come to this?” Your voice was low, frail, frightened. Fuck. What was he doing? What was Bruce doing? Was this worth ruining your relationship over? Yes. Yes – of course it did. If it meant you’d be safe. Everything was worth it if you were safe.

You’d have your heart broken, yes. But in a few months, maybe years, you’d find someone else. A nice, normal man, with no secret identities and no secret life. You’d find a nice man and settle down. He would give you all his time, worship you like you deserved to be worshipped. Would take care of you and love you, and never put you in danger.

And you’d be happy. You’d be so happy; you’d have long forgotten about the asshole Bruce Wayne, who’d cheated on you and broke your heart.

“Yes, come to this.” He repeated. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I was supposed to have ended this long ago, and yet I let go for far too long.” Bruce tried to force some venom, some harshness into his words. He wasn’t used to talking like this to you, nor did he want to – but he had to try.

“What do you mean?” The clothes in your hands were long forgotten, and you just stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I just – look, I hate to do this right now, and in these circumstances, but…”

“But?”

“We can’t be together anymore.”

Your eyes widened. What?

“I can’t keep lying to you. I don’t love you anymore.”

These words hit you like a truck.

Didn’t love you anymore?

“What?”

“That’s right.” Bruce sighed, trying to keep his composure. “This relationship is a mistake. You’re holding me back, and I just don’t love you anymore.” His voice was devoid of any emotion, while inside, he could feel everything slipping out of control. He loved you. How could he say such things? How were such words leaving his mouth?

“You – you don’t love me anymore?” You asked, eyes tearing up once more. Your breaths were coming in shallow; you couldn’t breathe, nor believe the stuff you were hearing.

“I don’t. I’ve been miserable – miserable – in this relationship,” He said your name, running a finger through his already unkempt hair. “I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. Propose, settle down, get married – I can’t do it. I don’t see a future with you anymore. Please, you can’t tell me you haven’t felt the same!”

“No! I can’t!” You didn’t sound like yourself. You sounded sad, broken, out of breath, completely terrified. You thought your life with Bruce was going very well. You loved him, and he loved you. Yeah, okay, maybe he had some more work to take care of as of late, but that didn’t warrant a breakup. Did it? “We – we’ve been so happy, Bruce!”

“Fuck – I don’t love you anymore! This, this – this relationship is killing me here! I can’t keep on doing this, can’t wake up and pretend to be your Brucie, or a family man, or God forbid, someday your husband!” Bruce was fighting hard to keep his emotions away from this. Instead, he channelled all that energy into pretending to be angry with you. He put all the anger he felt towards the outside world and every criminal in Gotham, into this fake argument.

And by the look of your face, he was doing a good job.

“How… How long have you been doing this?” You whispered. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. Weren’t sure if you wanted to know how long your husband had been betraying you, sleeping with some other woman. Or women. It made you nauseous just to think of that.

“I…”

“Just tell me, Bruce!”

Bruce sighed, looking away.

“Three months.”

A choked sob was ripped from your throat, and you grabbed the nearest thing – a shoebox – raising it above your head. There were a million thoughts racing through your head, a million emotions plaguing your mind. But before you could throw the damned box at his head, you ran into the nearest bathroom, puking your guts out.

The whole situation made you nauseous alright.

As soon as you’d puked whatever you had to, you got up, washing your mouth and your teeth. Then, you turned to Bruce. He was standing in the middle of your bedroom, looking at you with a mixture of sorrow, disgust, and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

You couldn’t stare at him any longer.

“I’d appreciate it if you left the Manor until the end of the day,” he said, looking at the ground. “I would like the master bedroom to be clean of your things.”

How could he speak like this? How could he say all of this after everything you two shared? Every word, every kiss, every touch? Had it not meant anything to him? Clearly not, by the way he was behaving.

You wiped your tears (unsuccessfully, since they just kept on rolling down your cheeks), and walked towards your closet, proceeding to stuff your clothes inside the suitcase. Just as you were about to shut your first suitcase, Bruce interrupted you.

“I’ll have someone else take to you the rest of your things. Just take that right now.”

You stood up, turning to him. First, he cheated on you, then he admitted to not loving you, then he broke up with you, and now he was kicking you out at full force.

You sneered.

“Where the hell am I supposed to stay, then? I live here.”

“Lived. Not live. You don’t live here anymore. Just get a hotel room somewhere, I’ll pay for it. But you have to go.”

“Why? So you can go back to fucking your new girlfriend?”

“Precisely.” The bite in his words shocked you.

There were no words. No words beside three little things you’d never thought you’d utter at the man standing before you.

“I hate you. I hate you, Bruce Wayne.” You said, tears cascading down your cheeks and marring your so lovely face. “Everyone warned me about you, but I didn’t listen. I was too in love with you to care about what anyone said.”

Bruce still refused to meet your gaze. He was sure that if he did, he’d break down too. And he was close, too close to let all of this go to waste.

“Should’ve listened to them.” You whispered.

And walked out, suitcase in hand.

“Alfred, make sure you take her – “

“I’ll see to it myself, thanks. I don’t need your help.”

With these words, you were out the door, and out of Bruce’s life.

As soon as you were no longer in vision, Bruce broke down.

He sat on his bed, hiding his face in his hands. You were truly gone. Forever. He’d done what he had to, and now you were gone. It was for the best, yeah, but that’s not to say it didn’t hurt.

Alfred quietly walked into the room. The sight of his boss leaning forward, looking absolutely miserable was a low blow. Finally, he’d found a source of happiness, of peace, of solace. Finally, he’d get to see his boy grow up, start his own family.

But all of that was over now.

He wouldn’t be there to walk you down the aisle and congratulate Bruce on his wedding day. He wouldn’t be there to see him drop to his knees when he found out you were carrying his child. He wouldn’t get to teach Bruce all the little hacks he learned from caring for him as a baby, wouldn’t get to tell your child the charming love story his parents had.

Master Wayne was miserable before you.

He was sure he’d get worse now.

“Master Wayne, I’ve sent Miss Roberts on her way.” He said quietly, standing on the doorway.

“Did you pay her?”

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

“She won’t tell a soul.”

The two men remained in silent for a while. Alfred did not know what to say. He understood where Bruce was coming from. He’d tried to talk some sense into his young master’s head, but to no avail – Bruce was going through with this madness and that was it. He’d tried telling him it wouldn’t matter; you loved him and would remain by his side forever, but he wouldn’t hear it.

In his head, this was the only solution.

“She’s going to be fine,” Bruce mumbled, dropping his hands, and looking at the ground.

“You’ve broken her heart, sir.” Alfred replied.

“She’ll be fine, Alfred,” Bruce retorted harshly. “She’ll go on with her life, forget about me, and she will be safe and that’s why we’re doing this – so she’s safe!”

The older man closed his mouth. There was nothing else he could do or say. It was done, and there was no turning back.

“Will you be fine, Master Wayne?” he asked at last.

Bruce did not answer right away. He shook his head, and Alfred swore he could make out the shape of his shoulders shaking ever so slightly – was he crying?

After a few moments, Bruce finally managed to calm himself. He took a deep breath, quickly wiped away any tears that might’ve escaped, and nodded, still avoiding his butler’s gaze.

“I will be. All that matters is that she’s safe. I’ll learn to be fine.”

“Is there anything you wish, sir?”

“No, you’re dismissed.”

And so, Alfred walked away, leaving Bruce to think the last few minutes over.

He’d lost you, sure.

But he would keep an eye on you from afar. Protect you from a distance. Make sure you were doing alright and that no harm had come to you. He’d be a silent protector.

And although he was hurting, he would bottle up his emotions.

Nothing else mattered, as long as you were safe.

But keeping tabs on you had proved to be quite harder than what Bruce expected.

You’d gone completely off the map, off-grid. You’d forsaken social media and most electronics and were doing a fantastic job of keeping away from his prying eyes. He knew for a fact you’d left Gotham, but to where, he did not know exactly. His sources told him you’d probably changed your identity, not wanting to be seen as Bruce Wayne’s ex-girlfriend anymore, wanting a life of your own.

At first, Bruce was terrified.

If you changed your identity and moved away, how was he supposed to protect you? This whole thing was meant to keep you safe – how was he supposed to live without knowing if all of his and your suffering had been in vain?

“Master Wayne, I understand your concern for the Miss’s well-being.” Alfred had told him one night as Bruce was drowning his sorrows in some very-expensive liquor. “But sometimes, we must respect the choices people make for their own safety.”

“What if something happens to her, Alfred?” Bruce asked, voice raspy from exhaustion and the drink. “What if she’s in danger and I can’t reach her? What if this whole thing was for nothing?”

“Sir, part of caring for someone is respecting their decisions. Dr. Jonathan Crane is long gone, and you yourself told me the information he had died with him. There is no one after you or the ones you love anymore. And most important, there is no one after her. If she’s changed her name, it only means she’ll be safer.”

Bruce sighed. Alfred was right to some extent – as he usually was. Crane was dead, and he hadn’t told anyone about you. Changing your name and your identity would probably keep you even safer.

“I loved her, Alfred. I still do.”

“I know, Master Wayne. I did too.” Alfred sighed, placing a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “But you did what had to be done, now, didn’t you? You said it yourself. She is safe, and that’s all that matters.”

Bruce tried to follow that mentality.

For months, he tried to forget you.

Unfortunately, not only had you wormed your way into his heart, you’d done the same thing to his mind. He would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, swearing he could feel your lingering touch, hear your heavenly voice.

During meetings, all he could think of was how you’d usually send him funny texts and memes you found on your lunch breaks. He no longer got your calls, telling him all about the gossip you’d heard at your workplace, and how much you missed him.

The manor felt empty without your touch, your laughter, your presence. Just the mere existence of your toothbrush was enough to calm him down, to remind him you were there, and real, and his.

But he was left with nothing.

You’d gone, and with you, taken his heart.

And yet, despite all the pain, all the heartbreak, life went on.

Days passed; seasons changed.

The daily cycle continued, interrupted.

The sun rose and the sun set, a small reminder that life waited for no one. Alfred told him many times that he couldn’t dwell on the past, and while he tried to, it was hard.

Winter became spring, spring became summer.

And Bruce Wayne’s heart remained unmended.

He tried to move on – really, he did. But he wasn’t quite sure he’d achieved it. He didn’t think of you as much anymore, but he also didn’t think of much else. It was as if he was numb to the outside world, going about his daily routine as Bruce Wayne and his nightly duties as Batman automatically.

It was as if he was on autopilot. Charity galas were boring without you to make fun of everyone, fundraisers sucked if you couldn’t talk to whoever was interesting and get him to have a good time.

Life went on, but it was as if his had paused.

Alfred did his best to keep him in check. Did not allow him to go without any meals, made sure he attended whatever events he had to, and patched him up after rough patrols. He too missed your presence but knew better not to mention it to his boss. All he wanted was for the young master to go back to the person he once was.

One day, he was on his way to Wayne Enterprises. It was late in the morning, but as the CEO of the company, he could afford to be late once or twice. Not only that, but it was also only natural for Bruce Wayne to be fashionably late – even if it was to his own job.

The car suddenly came to a halt. Something underneath Bruce seemed to deflate, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Alfred?” he asked, closing his newspaper.

“I’m sorry sir, there seems to be something wrong with the tires. Perhaps you could go out and check?” The butler replied with a cheeky grin.

“Don’t I pay you enough for that?”

“Not nearly, sir.”

“How unfortunate. Well, I’m quite comfortable here, so why don’t you check it yourself?”

Alfred nodded with a small smile and exited the car.

After around 5 minutes, he looked inside the limo and sighed.

“I’m sorry sir, but we have a flat tire. But we also don’t have a spare one in the trunk, so I’ll have to call someone.”

“Really?”

“Really, sir. I’m sorry.”

Bruce shook his head, waving his newspaper dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just go by foot.”

“Are you sure, sir? It’s still a few blocks away. Perhaps we should wait until someone comes to fix it. And what if something happens to you?”

Bruce gave his butler a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, to which the older man just sighed.

“Alright, fine, you stubborn, stubborn man.”

Bruce chuckled and exited the limo, quickly making his way down the street.

It would be good, clear his head of all the torment. Walking gave him peace, made his mind feel at ease. It was as if a burden as lifted off his shoulders, even if momentarily.

Unfortunately, this respite did not last long.

He was busy looking around himself – eyes trailing the balconies of older Gotham buildings, taking in every person, every door, every window, every life that lives inside each apartment – to notice the figures before him.

But once he was content with the things he’d seen (and decided to organise some sort of charity event, since his city needed him, especially the older streets, with decaying buildings and lives he were sure must be hanging by a thread), he looked up.

And what he saw stole his breath away.

You were standing a few meters away from him, pointing at a shopwindow that had caught your eye. A friend stood by your side; arm linked with yours. He couldn’t care less about her, eyes focused on you, on the big summer hat resting on top of your head and providing shade to your face, on the beautiful smile you wore, on the way your lips moved as you spoke animatedly, on the lovely white dress you adorned.

But most importantly, his eyes were focused on the pretty swell of your belly, and on how one of your hands cupped it lovingly, and the other trailed circles on top of it. He eyed the swell of your breasts that had grown larger, the way your entire being seemed to glow. Not from the sun, just entirely from you.

Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.

You were back. Back in Gotham, back in his life, back to him.

Don’t be an idiot – surely, she’s not back for you.

And how beautiful you looked, hand protectively over your belly. How dazzling, how breathtaking, how shining.

Without even realising it, Bruce stepped forward, eyes glued on your figure. You didn’t seem to notice him, still paying attention to the store in front of you. He could make out the small chatter you were having with your friend – and how much he’d missed the sound of your voice, the lovely musicality of your laughter – it made him feel lighter, fuller, happier.

“I like the blue one,” you said, turning to your friend, “And it’s rather big, so I’m sure he’ll grow into it.”

Your friend seemed to agree with you, “It’ll last for a few months, yeah. But the yellow one is pretty too, don’t you think?”

“Please. A Batman onesie? The last thing I want is my son to wear one of those. He won’t even know who he is, anyway, it’s not like I’m raising him here.” You scoffed.

The girl you were with chuckled, and only then did she notice Bruce, standing far too close.

“Um,” she poked your arm, and you turned to him.

It was as if the whole world faded away.

Your whole story played on your head. Your first meeting, spilling coffee all over his shirt, having a coffee bought by him, the countless dates you went on, dating, moving in together, living what you thought were your happiest years ever, getting proposed to, and eventually finding your husband fucking someone else.

You quickly dropped your gaze to your stomach before looking at him once again and taking a step back. It was stronger than you, an instinct to get away from this man as soon as possible.

"Hey," the words were tumbling out of Bruce's mouth before he could control himself.

When you didn't reply, he took another step forward, making you step back again.

"I have nothing to say to you," you mumbled, looking at your friend. You whispered a quick "let's go” to her and turned on your back to leave. Before you could do it, the man called out your name. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the worry, the heartbreak, the grief.

Tch, you thought, what is there for him to grieve? You're the one who lost your relationship, your home, the chance for your child to meet his father.

"Please, listen to me," he said, and you saw in his face such vulnerability it scared you. You didn't remember the last time you'd seen Bruce like this, face looking as if he was holding on by a threat.

You were that thread, Bruce thought to himself.

"Did you not hear her?" Your friend came to your rescue, hand protectively over your shoulders. "She doesn't want to talk to you. Now leave it."

Bruce wondered if she knew him. If she knew what he'd done. Had you told anyone? Had you kept it a secret? Might've been hard to do so – after all, tabloids had loved to exploit his breakup, plastering it all over every cover of ever magazine in Gotham. He'd paid them off to spare you from the spotlight and public eye, but it was too late. People had already begun talking; and what they were saying wasn't polite at all.

"You need to listen to me," he said softly, "You need to listen to what I have to say."

What was he doing? What was he saying? He shouldn't even be talking to you, should be keeping his distance like he'd been doing the past few months. His head told him to stay away – to turn around, go back to the pain and the sulking and the sleepless nights between empty sheets. But his heart was reaching towards you, hoping so desperately that you'd reach out too and save him from the torment he'd been living.

He knew he had no right doing this. He'd hurt you terribly – but it'd been for a good reason, no? He'd kept you safe long enough, hadn't he?

Was it selfish of him to want you back?

Because he did – desperately so. He missed your warmth and your touch. He missed your smiles in the morning and your giggles in the evening. He missed the way you scrunched your nose whenever you took a sip out of his coffee – black with one sugar. He missed the way you walked around with nothing but his shirts on when Alfred was out, teasing him to no end and relishing in the way Bruce's breath hitched when his eyes landed upon you.

But most of all, he missed the way you always comforted him and promised everything would be alright. He missed your tender touch and your warm embrace. Missed your love, and the effect it had on him.

He needed you back.

That much was certain, and he had no doubts about it.

He couldn't bear to be without you any longer. He would keep you safe – God damn it, he would, even if it was the last thing he ever did, but he couldn't be without you anymore. He couldn't live his days inside a Manor that seemed so dull without your shine, eat at a table that seemed so quiet without your chatter, and sleep in a bed that seemed so cold without your body next to his.

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"There's nothing you could say to me that I would possibly want to listen," you said. But your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were sure if he were to strain his ears just a bit, he'd listen to how fast it was racing. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be."

Bruce's heart fell. He was about to lose you again. He couldn't. His hand dropped to yours, and he held it tightly in between his palms.

"Please," he all but begged, "Just listen to what I have to say. And if you don't care about it, if you don't like what you hear, if you want to go, I'll let you."

"I don't care. Happy? Now let me go."

"Please."

The way he said it made your heart churn. His face was the epitome of heart break, eyes sagged, with deep dark bags under them. You knew Bruce hardly got any sleep as Batman, but this seemed too much. And there was something about the way he looked at you, as if you were some sort of mirage that could disappear within seconds.

You couldn't quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was your hormones feeling nostalgic. Perhaps it was curiosity, making you wonder what the hell he had to say to you that's so important.

Your brain yelled at you though, telling you to stay away from him. This man had ruined your life, used you and thrown you aside. You had no use for him. You deserved better.

And yet, your heart still yearned for him. You couldn't lie – as soon as you laid your eyes on him, it did a little flip, at it usually did.

As it used to do. Not anymore. You're not his anymore.

"Fine," you mumbled, shaking your head. "But not now. I'm busy."

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding desperately. "When can you meet me? Tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Is it too soon?"

It's not soon enough, you thought. You really did not have anything else to do today but thought it better not to tell him. You couldn't give him all you wanted at once – you were afraid your poor heart couldn't take it.

Still, something inside you couldn't hide how much your heart still wanted him.

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Great, great. 4 in the afternoon? I could have Alfred pour us something? Maybe a few biscuits?"

It was endearing, how desperate he seemed to get you to sit with him. It was cute.

Stop it. He's not "cute", he ruined your life and tossed you aside. You just want closure. That's it – closure. That's all you want from him.

"Fine. Can I go now?" You asked, before shaking your head and rephrasing. "I'll be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait – Should I send for a driver?"

"Unless the Manor has disappeared and teleported somewhere else, I think I can manage." Saying this, you walked away, leaving Bruce at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. There you were, in front of him, and just as quickly as he'd spotted you, you were gone. You were every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. He thought of your pregnant belly, and a shiver ran down your spine.

Whose baby was that? Was it his? Were you carrying another man's child? And why were you back in Gotham? Whatever reason it was, he silently thanked the heavens. It'd brought you back to him, and that's all that mattered. With a newfound sense of determination, Bruce ran back to his limo, where Alfred was still waiting for someone to fix his tire.

"Call the company," he exclaimed, out of breath and panting as he reached the older man. "Cancel all my meetings. Today's and tomorrow's."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. What the hell did his boss get into this time?

"May I ask why, sir?"

Bruce beamed.

"We have company."

Alfred had mixed emotions about you coming to visit.

On one hand, he was more than glad to see you. He missed you terribly, his book club pal, his gossiper, his nearly adoptive daughter. He looked forward to hugging you again, speaking to you, asking you how you were doing and learning how these past few months had been going for you.

On the other hand, he was positively mortified. He knew Bruce hadn't dealt very well with your absence, and he was afraid of what his young master might do now that you were here and willing to listen to him. And what would he say anyway? He knew Bruce was suffering and had never stopped loving you, but he didn't expect for him to actually try and win you back as soon as he laid eyes on you.

Sighing, he adjusted the tray on top of the kitchen counter, smiling when he heard the doorbell. Walking towards the entrance, he fixed his tie – he too wanted to look presentable for his favourite young lady – and opened it. Your sight was enough for his smile to grow wider. He took you all in, and his eyes got larger as he spotted the large bump on your stomach.

"Hey Alfred," you said, sporting a soft smile and another summer dress – this one, light green.

"Hello Miss." He replied, tears in his eyes. It made him emotional, you with your hands slowly supporting your growing stomach. He'd wanted to see this sight for so long, and while it was endearing, and you looked radiant, it was also heartbreaking that he hadn't been there to see most of it, and that neither had Bruce.

The very same question passed through his head: Whose baby were you carrying?

"You've got room for a plus one?" You asked, eyes dropping to your stomach.

"I think we can manage."

You walked inside, and hugged Alfred tightly close to you. You too saw him as family, and it had broken your heart to cut contact with him. At first, you thought about keeping his phone number and calling him occasionally; but after learning how everyone wanted to get their eyes on you, you decided that perhaps it was for the best if you ceased contact completely.

"I missed you so much, Miss. The Manor is not the same without you," he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"I missed you too, Alfred," you replied, tears forming in your eyes aswell. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I – "

"It's alright, Miss." He pulled away, looking into your eyes with that kind, warm, parental gaze of his, "I understand. I'm just glad I got to see you again."

With this, he led you towards the living room, where Bruce was already, pacing back and forth. It almost made you chuckle – big bad Bat by night, reckless playboy by day Bruce Wayne was pacing circles inside his living room, visibly worried sick.

"Master Wayne," Alfred said, signalling your arrival.

Bruce looked up and you'd think you had just offered him the cure to eternal life or something by the way his gaze held yours.

"Hey," he said, walking towards you, but thinking better of it and standing a few steps away from you. He held forward his hand, hoping that you'd somehow shake it. You did not, and he dropped it.

"Would you like something to drink? Alfred prepared coffee."

"I don't drink coffee. It makes me nauseous." You softly placed your hands on your stomach, and Bruce got the hint immediately,

"Yes – yes, of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. By the look of it, tousled and unkempt, you figured he'd been doing that quite a lot for at least the past half hour. "Is there anything else you'd like, though? A cup of water, perhaps some tea?"

"Tea would be fine, thank you." You turned to look at Alfred when you said these words, although Bruce could tell immediately they weren't for him by the way your voice was coated in sugar – something he knew he hadn't earned just yet. "You still know my favourite?"

"Of course, Miss," Alfred nodded politely with a smile, "I'll get it for you right away," and made his way towards the kitchen.

You and Bruce remained in silence for a while before he seemingly broke out of a trance.

"Please, do sit down."

You did so, carefully tucking a pillow behind your back, you stretched your legs ever so slightly and sighed in relief, hands resting on top of your stomach. "There, there", you mumbled, "All comfy, aren't we?"

Bruce eyed you and your stomach. There were so many things he wanted to ask you, and yet he did not know where to begin. Should he address the elephant in the room? Should he let you speak about it? What if you did not want to talk about it? Maybe the child wasn't even his – you could've moved on and started a life without him. He has no right to ask.

"You're looking..." he began. You waited for a continuation, and it surely came, seconds after. "Beautiful. Radiant."

"Thank you," was your polite response. You looked around the room – nothing had changed. Still the same paintings up on the walls, still the same portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne holding a very tiny and very happy Bruce, still the same scent of lavender and books.

Still home.

"How have you been?" he asked, sitting down on the couch positioned next to yours, and trying his best to relax.

"How have I been?" you repeated. He wanted to catch up? Really? As if everything you had together in the past had meant nothing?

"Yes," he nodded, gesturing towards yourself. "How have you been these past few months?"

You scoffed. Fine. If he wanted to do this, then he would see it through until the very end.

"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Bruce." You said, venom evident in your words, dripping off them. "In fact, these last few months have been the jolliest of my life. The man I was in a relationship with, who's also the man who had proposed to me broke up because he said he did not love me anymore, and was fucking some random woman when I walked in on him, then he kicked me out of our home, had to go live in a hotel room for a few weeks before I finally got a place far, far away from his prying eyes, cutting edge technology and vigilante alter ego, then I have to deal with gossip magazines wanting to photograph my face and get some sort of statement from me, going as far as to trying to break into my house just to find out what truly happened."

Bruce winced at the harshness of your words. You'd had some terrible couple of months, clearly, and he didn't know what to say.

"But hey! How have you been, Bruce? How's life?" You were being sarcastic – that much was evident, and although he did deserve every ounce of cruelty you gave him, it also hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You can't imagine just how sorry I am... And how much I regret what happened."

"Ah," you sneered, twisting your face in disgust, "Is this why you invited me here? Because you regret hooking up with whoever that was back then? Got into a mess you couldn't undo? Miss me, oh so much, and need me back?"

Each word was like a dagger being plunged into Bruce's heart. Had heartbreak turned you so bitter?

No, not bitter. You were right, after all.

"I'm sorry," he said your name softly, sighing deeply. "I need to tell you something."

"And I'm sure I can't wait to hear whatever it is." You scoffed. Alfred quickly entered the living room, placing a tray with two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. He carefully handed you one of them, before walking away. Bruce's nose scrunched. Ouch.

"Thank you," you smiled at the butler, took a sip out of the mug, and sighed contentedly. "This man makes the best tea I've ever drank."

"He really does. But as I was saying, I need to tell you something."

"Bruce, I don't want to hear sob stories. I didn't come here to hear you whine and moan and complain about your life. I'm sure you suffered a lot, but I am not really interested." There you went again, sarcasm coming naturally to you and your words.

"I just need to tell you what really happened."

Another sneer.

"I saw what really happened Bruce. Stop it with the bullshit."

"Just – " Bruce took another deep breath. "Please. Just listen to me without any interruptions, please. If you want to scream at me and yell and slap me and punch me after, then that's okay."

"Tempting."

"But please, just let me speak."

"Okay."

Bruce looked at you in surprise. Okay? Just like that? So willingly?

"That's why I came here, isn't it? Please get it over with."

The man before you nodded. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. It was time for you to know the truth.

"Back when we were engaged," he began, "There was this one night I went on patrol. And everything was going fine, until I ran into Crane."

You furrowed your brows. "Crane?" Then, you remembered what he'd said about interrupting, and muttered a quick "Sorry, go on."

"I ran into Crane."

It was almost as if Bruce could see the whole thing playing before him. The darkness of the night, the faint smell of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, the one he was immune to. It was all so clear in his mind – after all, that night was the beginning of the end.

"He started talking to me. Trying to get into my head, as he usually did. But that time was different. He... He started talking about me, my own personal life, my identity. And then he mentioned you." His gaze fell on you, and you were met with hopelessness and despair. It was heart-wrenching.

"He knew you. Knew you, he knew who you were, knew who I am. He threatened to tell Arkham City residents our identities. He threatened to hurt you if I didn't help him."

Your face was pale with worry.

"And what did you do? You didn't help him, did you? It's Crane!"

"The GCPD intervened and killed him on the spot. Some rookie officer convinced it was the best thing to do. Crane was holding a phone in his hand when he died. It contained files, files about all those close to me. I got to delete everything just before he sent it."

You listened attentively. No one had ever gotten as close to unmask Bruce. Well, no one until Crane. You had heard of his death, but only thought it was a good thing that such a criminal was out of the streets.

"And I..." Bruce hesitated. This was the hard part, telling you what he'd done, the hard choice he'd made. "I thought... It was unthinkable to lose you. I just couldn't. Crane had gotten too close. I was terrified darli – " he quickly corrected himself, switching to your name. "I couldn't lose you... I barely slept that night, thinking of what could've happened to you."

In your face, Bruce could see some recognition. Were you putting the pieces together? Did you know?

"I thought..." he continued, "I thought I had to keep you safe. And in my mind, you'd never be safe if you were with me. As long as you were associated with Bruce Wayne, you'd be in constant danger."

"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head,

"And you're so stubborn..." Bruce's eyes shed with unshed tears, voice carrying an amount of emotion you weren't familiar with. "You'd never listen to me. You'd stick by my side and argue that you loved me and didn't care about the danger..."

"You didn't..." you covered your mouth.

"So, the only plausible explanation was driving you away."

The tension shifted immediately in the room. Bruce couldn't tell what was going through your head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"I paid someone to put on that little show with me, that day. I knew you were coming home early. It pained me so much to do it, I swear..."

"I can't believe this..." you stood up, attempting to do it quickly but failing because of your stomach. "I can't believe you would do that."

Bruce remained sitting, not wanting to distress you any further.

"Please, you have to understand – everything I did was for your protection."

"So you cheated on me to drive me away!?"

"We were going to get married! If you shared my name, you'd share your enemies, and I promised I would never drag you into my other life. I promised to keep you safe."

"Yeah!" You threw your arms up in the air in frustration. "So! You could've taught me martial arts! Gifted me a taser! Taught me how to throw a punch, give me a gun or something! Instead, you thought the brightest idea was to dump me?"

"It hurt like hell; it really did. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat – I was in hell without you." Bruce was getting desperate. This is not how he wanted things to go, not how he'd pictured it going. You were freaking out, understandably so, but some part of him was hoping you would understand. Would you ever?

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" You were getting angry now. This whole conversation was pissing you off.So Bruce had broken your heart because he wanted to protect you!? "We're two responsible adults, Bruce! You could've told me what happened."

"I couldn't. You would've never agreed to stay away from me."

"Exactly! Because I love you! I'd have stuck with you through thick and thin!"

Bruce was so engaged in the argument; he missed your slip. Love, not loved. Present tense.

"And that was precisely what I didn't want to happen! I didn't want to come home one night and found you dead on the ground or kidnapped! I was doing it all for you!"

"By breaking my heart."

"It had to be done."

"It didn't.

"I was thinking of you."

"How old are we, Bruce!? 16? 17? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Alfred had tried to exit the perimeter. He didn't want to be anywhere near you two, but decided against that decision. Someone had to be able to step in and protect the young master. He was positive that given the chance, you'd throw something at him, and that was sure to leave a mark. He didn't doubt your abilities.

"I'm so sorry," Bruce pleaded, "But once again, please understand. I was just doing what i thought was best."

"You left me!"

"I was protecting you!"

"You left me, Bruce!" You yelled, unable to fight back your tears. Once again, you didn't know what got you so agitated. Maybe your hormones, maybe the lingering feelings you deep down still had for the man sitting down before you. "I loved you; I needed you by my side, and you left me! Because you thought someone was coming after me? You said it yourself – Crane did not send the files to anyone. We were safe. We were fine. And you went and destroyed everything we had because of some fear you had?"

It was Bruce's turn to stand up, defensively placing his hands in front of his chest.

"I couldn't lose you. Please, please, you have to forgive me. I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have done it, I know. I miss you – I miss you so much, I have for the past few months, I can't live without you."

"I couldn't live without you either and had to make do! I still have to!"

"There was an uncomfortable silence as the last few words hung in the air. It was then that Bruce decided to finally ask the question he'd been meaning to ever since he first saw you on the street.

"Is the child mine?"

You widened your eyes, looking away from him. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach.

"You have no right to ask that."

"Please. Just... Is it mine?"

You thought it over. There was no use in hiding it. The child would most likely grow up to look like him, bear his eyes and smile, scrunch his nose in the way his father did when confused. And for all it was worth, Bruce deserved to know. He wasn't a bad person, and you knew he'd be a good father.

"Yes," you mumbled, softly.

Bruce didn't hesitate to ask his next question.

"When did you find out?"

"A few days later. I was all by myself, and so scared, Bruce..." Sitting down, you looked at the floor, finding a sudden interest in examining your shoes. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done... Bearing this child all by myself, without you... As soon as my stomach started showing, I had to get out of here. Tabloids were going crazy, and I didn't want you finding out. I just wanted a normal life for him."

"Him?"

"Yeah. I know for sure, it's a little boy. I love him so much already..."

Bruce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He knew he'd screwed things up the first morning he woke up without you by his side, but this was simply too much.

"I love you." The determination with which he said it took you by surprise. "I always have. I never stopped. I'm sorry for what I did. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I knew I would put you through hell, and I still did it because it would be the best for you. I'm so sorry."

These words did not fall on deaf ears. You were listening, hung up on every word. Bruce was right there, right in front of you, apologizing and confessing he still loved you. And didn't you love him back? Hadn't you spent countless nights crying over his absence, wishing it were his fingers wiping away the tears that refused to stop, wishing that he was there next to you the moment you realised you were pregnant, wishing he would hug you tightly, kiss your forehead and assure you everything would be fine? That it had all been a very bad nightmare and you were back at home with his body wrapped around yours?

"I... I don't know how I should feel," you said. Which was partially true. Some part of you did still love him, but he'd put you through too much heartache. You weren't about to just forgive him and kiss all his worries away and pretend nothing had ever happened. "You really hurt me, Bruce... I don't know if I can go through that again. What if someone else gets a hold of my information? Of your identity? Are you going to push me away again? Push our son away?"

Bruce looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and in one quick motion, was down on one knee, hands desperately wanting to rest on top of yours. "I promise," his voice was soft, and it reminded you of your sweet Bruce, of the man you'd fallen in love with and were ready to love forever, "It won't happen again. I'll do better next time. Hell, there won't even be a next time. I promise. I can't live without you."

"Bruce, I... It's not as simple as that..."

"You don't love me anymore?"

"That's not what I said."

"So you do?" A hint of a smile.

"Gosh, Bruce, stop it! What you did was terrible – it destroyed me. Those were the worst months of my life, you have no idea how it felt to be me, alone and pregnant and scared! You can't just waltz back into my life and tell me you love me and are sorry. I don't trust you anymore. It's just not that simple."

"I understand."

Bruce sighed and stood up.

"I just wanted to tell you the truth, anyway. You deserve it. I'm really sorry for what I did."

Once again, you're basked in silence. This time, it was you who broke it, with a question of your own, one that had plagued you ever since he told you everything was staged.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your voice was meek, fragile. Did you want to know the truth?

"No." Bruce answered with determination. "We didn't have sex. I wasn't really naked."

Your eyes widened.

"I guess you were too mad to notice." He smiled sadly.

You looked away at the ground.

Somehow, it did make you a little more at ease that he hadn't really had sex with that woman. It didn't erase all of your pain but gave you some slight respite.

"Have you been with anyone, after..."

"No." He answered again. "There was never anyone else. Never could be. There was only just you. There's always been just you."

You nodded thoughtfully.

"Would you like to feel your son?"

"Huh?"

"He's kicking. Would you?"

Bruce gave you an enthusiastic nod and sat beside you, allowing you to guide your hands to the exact spot the baby was kicking him. Sure enough, he felt something press against his hand repeatedly. He chuckled, automatically leaning forward to feel it better.

"Hey there, little guy," he whispered. "I can't believe you're real."

You stood there for a while, him by your side, hand on top of your stomach. It felt weird, but in a comforting way. It was just you and Bruce and your unborn child, and you somehow felt like things were okay. Everything was fine.

"I've never stopped loving you either," you said after a while. Bruce turned to you, allowing you to speak. "When I found out I was pregnant, all I wanted was to call you, let you know we were finally going to be parents...

"I can't promise that things will return immediately to the way they were. I can't promise I won't be mad at you, because I am, I really am."

You shifted in your seat to face him better. Your eyes trailed his face; how you missed it. The lovely cheekbones you loved to trace on lazy Sunday afternoons, the forehead you loved to kiss on clingy mornings. He looked just as bit as handsome as he did the last time you'd seen him. His eyebags were deeper and more sagged, but that didn't stop him from being the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes upon.

"But... I'm willing to try."

Bruce's head shot up.

What?

"You really hurt me, Bruce. I thought I’d never be happy again, thought my life would be ruined forever. I thought I'd lost the love of my life." Your voice failed. "But... although your idea was just terrible, you might have had the best intentions in mind. I just... Wish you'd have spoken to me first."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It killed me inside, it really did. But everything I do has always been for you. You must know that. Must know that every decision I take, good or bad, light or not, is always with you in thought." This time, Bruce did not avert his gaze. He was done looking away, done hiding, done being without you. Should this be the last time he ever saw you, he lingered on your face, committing it to memory. Your pretty eyes, the beautiful shape of your nose, your slightly parted lips. Had anyone ever been this beautiful?

"I know," you replied, giving him hope. "Which is why... Why I'm..." It took a deep breath and a few circles rubbed on top of your stomach to calm you down. This was a huge decision to make. Allowing Bruce back into your life could either be the greatest thing you would do, or possibly the worst. There was no middle-ground, and it scared you. You needed a middle-ground, needed a safety net, needed something that did not put your unborn son's life at risk.

And yet... You couldn't help but still want Bruce. You knew it. Your heart knew it. It still beat for him as loudly as it did the first time he'd kissed you, the time he'd asked you to be his, the first time you woke up with him by your side. You knew his intentions were good. His idea was terrible – fucking terrible – and it had only cost you pain and sadness. But you also knew Bruce made reckless decisions when it came to you. He was in love, and he was extremely protective. He had no one aside from Alfred and you and knew damn well he couldn't get rid of the old butler even if he tried; but would try his hardest to get rid of you if it only meant you got to live another day.

It was both endearing and soul-crushing, as things often were with Bruce.

"Which is why I'm willing to give you another chance."

Bruce released a sigh of release, and dropped his head to his hands, unable to say a word.

"Again, I can't promise I'll forgive you over night. I've just had the worst few months of my life. I won't fall back into your arms immediately. But I want to give you a chance to make things right."

It was only when you saw his shoulders shake, that you realised Bruce was sobbing. You placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and felt him shake his head.

"Bruce?" you asked, "Please talk to me, are you alright?"

He looked up at you and smiled. You quickly realised they were tears of joy.

"I love you so, so much. And I will spend every day of my life for as long as I shall live showing it. I'll make things right. I know I can't take back these past few months, and I know I can't magically take away the pain – nor can I wish for your forgiveness all at once. But I'll make it up to you. Forever. That is my promise to you. Because I love you. Fuck, it's insane how much I love how much I always have. You're my family, and I never want to be parted from you. Ever again."

He reached towards your face, his fingers wiping away something wet. Were you crying? Surely tears of joy too.

"I love you too, Bruce. I never really stopped."

He nodded and leaned closer to your face, eyes dropping to your lips. It was a small question, but he wanted to be sure.

"Is this okay? Can I?" he asked, eyes never leaving your mouth. "Please?" The last question was whispered so softly, you were actually not sure if you'd actually heard it, or just imagined it.

You replied in kind.

"Please."

And without missing a beat, he pressed his lips against yours.

His kiss was familiar. It felt like home. Bruce kissed slowly, taking his time. He was learning you all over again, tongue playfully fighting with yours. His hand cupped your cheek, and he brought you closer to him. It felt nice, it felt familiar, it felt like home.

You still perfectly in his arms, and the thought made Bruce smile into your kiss, pouring even more of himself into it. You gave back tenfold, pressing against him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You missed this. Missed him. Missed not knowing where you ended and he began, missed feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest, missed the soft groans that rumbled in his chest, missed being enveloped by him.

When you two eventually parted for air, he did not rest, kissing every inch of your face, until you were smiling and giggling and holding his face in place so you could look him in the eye.

"I love you." You spoke.

"I love you too," he replied, before caressing your stomach. "I promise I'll be here for him. I love him so much already. I'll spoil this boy rotten, give him everything he ever needs."

You smiled.

Your life had taken quite a nasty turn after Bruce had "cheated" on you and dumped you. Back then, you thought it was merely because he was, after all, the billionaire playboy everyone accused him of being. Now, you knew it was only because he loved you more than anything and wanted to keep you safe. Yes, he had hurt you, and you wouldn't forget that so easily – but it had still been an action out of love.

You'd been so lost the day you found out you were pregnant, crying on the bathroom of a hotel, clutching your stomach, and feeling like shit.

But right now, with Bruce by your side, his hands on your stomach and cheek, and his eyes regarding you with such tenderness, such warmth, you knew all would be fine.

You'd finally found each other again.

A/N: Whew!!!! We made it!!! Yay!!!! Okay so, in case you've made it this far and are interested to find out what the hell happened to me, just keep on reading!

So, as I mentioned before, I just got back to uni. It's killing me. It's kicking my ass. I've been sleeping less than 5 hours per day, and am currently losing my sanity. I don't have the time to sleep, to study, to write. There's so much to do and it's only the second week, and I'm really sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic. I can't remember the last time I slept more than like, 5 hours.

So, this fic is a bit longer than my other 200 Followers Event one. Here's the thing: I got a lovely request from @xxemmarldxx, but in my mind, it was far too big, and far too ambitious for a short 2/3k word drabble (which was the point of my event). So I told her I would do it properly some other time, because it was just too good, but would end up being way too big.

A few days later, I get this request. And they're very similar. Like, really, really similar. So I was like "You know what. Let's combine them. How about we combine the two, and write a big ass drabble the way I wanted to?"

This is the result. I've been writing this for the past week, and to be fair, it was KILLING ME. I was writing in every possible break, using every free space possible to get a few words in, and at some point, I started seeing it more as a "chore" than something I wanted to do. It became "the fic I need to finish", sort of like a burden. And it's not the requesters fault!!! It's just, I was so busy that, in the middle of everything, I couldn't find joy in writing because I was so stressed.

I'm sorry if this piece is bad. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I've done much better in the past, and this is not my best work. The word count got away from me and by the end I was just freaking out because I couldn't write anymore. And that was a real bummer because I love writing and I loved this request so much.

I hope you guys liked reading it and enjoyed it! I really do! I think that for a while I won't be able to write Bruce hahaha, I got a bit tired.

Anyways, I hope you're all having an amazing day!!! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x reader #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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no-nameno-face · 1 year

Text

Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)

TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC.

Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)

Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!

I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home.

Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head.

My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip.

“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound.

She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch.

“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.

“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?”

“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side.

I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters.

“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”

“With Jesse right?”

“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach. “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.

I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!”

“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.

Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her.

“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.

“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”

“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts.

“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles

“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.

She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.

“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman.

Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”

Jesus Christ.

“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words.

“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.”

Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection.

“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously.

“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.

She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds.

“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!” I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face.

Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects.

Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it, encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.

“All right. Your turn.”

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie smut #ai audios #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n

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spdrvyn · 4 months

Text

out and about: MIGUEL O'HARA

a short drabble about miguel making time to go on a shopping spree with you in a newly opened mall, however you can't help but feel a little shopper's guilt while he's there.

it's been a busy last couple of months to say the least, miguel hadn't been on a proper date with you for a while. you said that you were doing just fine, but he always had a sixth sense about this.

besides, while he was tending to his job of being a multiversal protector, he's neglected his other (and arguably more important) job. being a supportive and present boyfriend.

he forced himself to clear his calendar, turned on DND mode on all of his devices for once, and got into something that wasn't a skin tight nanotech suit. you'd been overjoyed to discover that miguel had stayed home today, moreso when he told you to get ready because he'd be taking you to the mall to buy a couple of things.

a couple of things was an understatement.

whenever you kept your eyes too long on a certain shop, miguel would usher you in to look around a little. if you so much as touched an item, miguel would already be at the cashier and buying it for you. it went on like that for the entire trip.

bag upon bag hung onto miguel's arms, yet he didn't even seem to struggle. it was attractive, but made you all the more guilty because what if he wasn't actually enjoying this? sure, he brought some items along with you, but what if those purchases were to just spare your feelings?

not to mention that the mall was practically colossal in size. if you said that you wanted to go home, miguel would be thinking that he'd done something wrong. that would be even worse. to add on, you haven't even checked if this place had a book store and miguel knows well that you can't leave a mall without taking a peak which would make him even more suspicious.

you also had to stop at a cafe every now and again to let your throbbing legs rest from walking around the whole time, miguel probably had more weighing on his back. you despised the fact that you were stealing his precious time, you couldn't begin to imagine what could be happening back at his workplace without him. would those people manage to survive? would the multiverse survive?

after visiting the last shop of the day, you were relieved to finally have an excuse to tell him that you were tired and wanted to go back home. miguel understood that, but your silence the whole car ride back was deafening. he thought for sure that this would mean a lot to you, the mall felt tailored to your interests, you'd bought a lot.

why weren't you happy?

what did he do wrong?

you insisted on helping him bring the bags back in, which he indulged you to. after setting them all back into the flat, it was already dark. miguel assisted you in unboxing everything you bought, which you did with a sullen look on your face. especially when you were done, looking over all the unwrapped items, how your pile was so much bigger than his. it could bring you to tears. and it did.

as miguel wrapped an arm around you, he felt it. the slight shiver in your shoulders, the muffled hiccup, and the glossiness on your eyes. worry settled in his features, he pulled you closer to him. "hey, hey. what's wrong? you don't like the stuff i—"

you burst into a fit of sobs, face going red and eyes puffed. you desperately tried to wipe away the tears that streamed down, as you whimpered. "i love it, miguel! i love it so much, but- it's just–"

god, he hated seeing you like this. not because you looked ugly crying or because he found it annoying but because of his incompetence. he had one fucking job, way simpler than whatever he did at work. to make you happy, to make you content, this wasn't what he wanted.

"don't cry, please. i'm sorry, lo siento, por favor. baby, if there is anything else i can do for you, i'll do it."

"that's the thing! you've already done so much for me today, you're so– so nice, too nice, that- that i don't know how to give it back."

your crying had eased a little, miguel's face had softened. he's been trying compensate for how little he's been giving you, that's all, but he didn't think about how you are. maybe he's been too nice recently, but you're too nice all the time.

"you don't have to give anythig i do back, mi vida," he sighed as he moved his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the fat of your cheek as your remaining tears smeared across the skin. "just you being here is enough, it's just that i've been— a little absent lately. i wanted to make it up to you."

"you didn't have to do that, miguel. just you being here is enough for me too." you sniffled. god, you were too adorable for him to take at times. he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the bridge of your nose, to each of your cheeks, then moving down to press one quickly to your lips.

"let's just do that then," he murmured, "be with each other. s'all i need, all i want." and you agreed. wholeheartedly so.

dividers by across-the-art-verse

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #x reader #fluff #romance

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royalarchivist · 10 days

Text

Phil: There is a small delay– it's the same translations as the ones used for the– the ones on screen that you can turn off right now. Those ones with the plugin, only it's sending it to a browser source so I can pop it onto the screen. It's cool! I like it. I'm sad I can't customize it more when I'm offline. I have to like, do it when I'm live. So... there we go, nice little test.

Phil: If I add it fully, I'll add all the languages Chat, and then try and make them match. I guess I could probably figure it out on my alt.

I know there's been a lot of bad news this week, so I want to share something nice: Phil is thinking about adding subtitles on screen so that VOD watchers can still have access them.

#Philza #Phil #This DID make me burst into tears all over again #Phil plays hardcore #May 15 2024 #There are still good ripple effects #Even if I'm still grieving and sad and frustrated #The ripple effects are good

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