#(or maybe haha i don't know him who the fuck knows) anyway he asked if my mom hit me and then at that moment my brain broke in two

[wysteria-bloom]

▨ "our child is an angel"

JJK characters when called into teacher's office about their child

Characters : gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna

Genre : fluff, crack

Warnings : I use female pronouns

A/n : Toji is not a deadbeat dad in this one because yeah. Wish he was canonical a hot dilf but we can never get what we want where Gege is concerned 😟

⟢ gojo satoru ␥

"When your son was asked to wait to go to the bathroom, he replied 'I will pee on your floor then bitch.'" The teacher spoke solemnly.

Satoru immediately snorted which you gave him a death glare for, pinching his thigh harshly.

You frowned," Well, before I question why the teacher denied bathroom privileges..." you turned to your husband. Your son was pouting next to you both, looking away with narrowed eyes," That doesn't sound like him at all, does it Satoru?"

Satoru immediately agreed with you, shaking his head," N-no. Not at all. Who taught you that language, kiddo?"

His son looked at him with a betrayed expression, pointing at him accusingly "YOU did!" He exclaimed.

Satoru's smile was pained as you slowly turned your head to him, eyebrows furrowing,"... Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fiyumi. I will have a stern talking. With BOTH of them." Then you gave her the brightest smile," I think it's all the candy they've been eating, I think maybe it's time to cut down on it all, yeah?"

The teacher nodded in agreement with a knowing smile," Yes, I agree."

The two males simultaneously slouched back into their chairs with loud groans which they covered up with coughs when you glared at them.

Satoru mustered a charming grin, settling a loving hand on your shoulder," I've been meaning to go on a diet anyways, haha..."

You rolled your eyes and patted his hand with yours in a pitying way," shut up, my love."

"Dad! Grow a backbone, you lanky idiot!" Your son scoffed out disapprovingly.

The white-haired man's charming grin fell instantly and he glared beneath his glasses," shut up you-"

⟢ nanami kento ␥

"Yes, your daughter got into a fight with one of the boys and managed to split his lip." The teacher gestured to the little girl in the chair who was sitting oh so politely.

Nanami hummed lowly, brows furrowed," not good." He said with that disappointed drawl to his tone that could make anybody curl into themselves with shame, his own daughter cringing to herself.

You merely raised a brow at your daughter," That right? So she won?" You asked bluntly.

A warm hand settled on your knee, squeezing lovingly and as a warning," not the point, love." Nanami grunted out disapprovingly.

The girl grinned with her cute gap-tooth, blue eyes glinting with pride as she looked to her mother," I won!!" She chirped," he pulled my hair so I split his lip!"

Her parents stared on in silence before Nanami gave her a small smile filled with warmth," Good girl."

⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥

"Your daughter punched Midori-"

Sukuna held up a hand," Don't need to hear it. Let's go." He began to stand up, tugging his little girl by the hood of her hoodie.

You shook your head in disapproval at your husband and looked to the teacher," I'm sorry, can you give me more context?"

Sukuna scoffed," Babe. Its obviously about that rich kid again. The little shit who bullies her? Yeah. Don't give a fuck. I'm proud of my fuckin' daughter." He glared at the teacher and walked out of the room with his daughter following anxiously behind.

Your eye twitched before you stood up slowly, offering a pained smile to lighten the load," well, you heard the man. Thanks." You left as well, not before tugging on your husband's ear like a mother and giving your girl a kiss on the forehead and a promise of ice cream.

Sukuna crouched down to her level and pinched his daughter's cheek with a bored expression, eyes glinting in amusement at the sight of her nose scrunching up at the actions," Next time? Put her through endless torture and misery. I can teach you a few techniques--"

You had to step in before your husband created a potential serial killer.

⟢ fushiguro toji ␥

"Megumi got into a fight aga-"

Toji let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, wiping away the sleepy dust from his eyes as his wife fretted over their son's messy black hair.

"Ugh, I swear your hair drives me crazy, Megs. You definitely didn't get it from my genes." You muttered as you tried to smooth out the strands.

Megumi merely sighed and pushed your hands away with an uncomfortable frown etched onto his face," Mom. Listen to Mrs. Fiyumi." He scolded lightly.

"I am, I am." You whined to him, turning to face the teacher with a frown on your lips.

"You too, dad."

Toji blinked at his son before scoffing," I was, I was." He let out a fatherly grunt as he sat straight in his chair, large hand resting on your thigh as he did, looking to the teacher in boredom.

The teacher cleared her throat, giving the small child a thankful nod for keeping his parents in check," As I was saying, little Megumi got into a fight with a boy yesterday. This behaviour seems very unlike him, so I was just worried if there's anything going on at home lately that's stressing him out?"

Megumi's brows furrowed but he didn't open his mouth, sitting politely in his chair. You hummed," Well, I suppose he hasn't been getting a good amount of sleep lately. But that's all I can think of." You settled a hand on your husband's that was caressing your thigh gently.

Toji hummed," just apologise, Megs. An' we'll be on our way." He grumbled to his son, waving his free hand dismissively.

Megumi cleared his throat and stood up, bowing to his teacher, which shocked her a little," I'm sorry, Mrs. Fiyumi. I won't hit anyone again." When he stood to his full-height, he looked her straight in the eye," I hope your failed marriage is getting better." He stated in such a polite and genuine manner.

Toji bursted out laughing - cackling like a witch whilst you stared at your son in complete horror, tugging his hair scoldingly.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #nanami x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #toji x you #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader

[oepionie]

—VOICELINES ABOUT YOU. various

Synopsis: Yuuken interrogates some of the boys on the campus about their special someone. Hearing their loving ramblings on you was certainly not what he expected.

Tags: Self-Indulgent, Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard, Reader is not Yuu, Tweels are a bit...too mad in love, I brainrotted so hard, You're Malleus' fiancee, Malleus doesn't know how to tell a joke someone help him

Cw. Riddle's Mother, Overworking, Hospitalizations, Poor living conditions, Illness, Bullying, Allusions to violence, Marriage, Tad bit of possesive behavior, Description of stabbing

WordCount: 2k+ | 💌Masterlist

R.R | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

About: Riddle's Rose

"Rose? I see you've met that troublesome intern at the library. That's a nickname. Their name is (Y/N) and yes, they are my partner." "A-Ah? I'm so direct? Well, you asked me a question! Though...I would prefer that this discussion end here. I prefer to keep my relationship with them private.”

Chat: Childhood Memories

“Ever since we were young, (Y/N) was quite rebellious. The complete opposite of me as a child, really. They were always sneaking off during the night and coming over to visit me. Mother...didn't approve of them and often screamed in their face. I was quite terrified she would scare them away, though that didn't stop them at all. Haha, I think they got even more persistent afterwards. I am truly glad I met them.”

Personal Story: To the Hospital

“Again...? I see. Thank you, Trey. Hmph, I'll have to schedule another visit once more."

> "Riddle? What's wrong?"

"Ah, Yuuken—It's Rose. They've gotten admitted to the hospital...again. (Y/N) is quite impulsive and tends to bite off more than they can chew. On more than occasion, like now, I would find out about their hospital admissions via Trey days or even weeks after."

>"Aren't you dating? Why aren't they telling you?"

"They claim that they withhold the information from me out of concern for my workload or out of fear of being a burden. Though that is—a sentiment I don't understand. Nothing is more important to me than their health."

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R.B | RUGGIE BUCCHI

About: The Photo In His Wallet

"Where is it?! Man, I'm so fucked if I lost it—Oh?! Oi, Yuuken! That wallet's mine! Man, thanks a lot. I really would've been screwed over if it weren't for you." "Eh? The photo? Shishishishi curious, aren't cha? Hmmm...how 'bout this? You get me a steaming hot meat bun and I'll give you a story time about them."

Chat: A Hopeful Future

"My studies? Course I take them seriously! That's what's gonna' put food on the table one day. Plus, I wanna' give (Y/N) the life they deserve—What'd I mean? Well, if I'm going to be their husband, I want 'em to live comfortably. It's not like we need anythin' luxurious, anyways. As long as we're together and there's enough food to go by, it's going to be all right."

Personal Story: In Sickness and In Health

"....that's good to hear. Please look after 'em, granny. Love ya." The call ends and Ruggie sighs. "That's the best news I've received since."

>"News?"

"Guh-?! Man! What's with you and sneaking up on me!? Yeah yeah—you heard right...news. Granny just called me to talk about (Y/N), their health is looking up. Tell ya' what, I knew that deal with Azul was worth it. I managed to snag some medicine and send it home."

>"Oh? Medicine?"

"Yeah. Ever since my first year of high school, they were sick and bedridden. (Y/N)'s parents don't have enough money for a doctor, so there's not much they can do. Of course, I'm out here doin' my best to help too."

"I really...I really wanna see them up and runnin' again. Hey, who knows—maybe we'll get to make flower crowns for the village kids again...together."

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A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO

About: An Interrogation

"Yuuken, you’ve met (Y/N), I hear. Well, as their partner, it's only right that I ask you about it. I assume you don't mind. So, what is your opinion of them? Nothing short of perfection, I hope."

"Hm? You think they're nice? Good then."

Chat: Busy Octoboss

"With all the deals, my maintenance of my academic ranking, and my position as Monstro Lounge's manager, my workload is quite substantial compared to most. And, I regret to say that it does get in the way of my personal life, including quality time with my lover. It tears at my heart, yet I cherish how they're so understanding and patient. Still, sometimes I can't help but think I am undeserving of them..."

Personal Story: Deep Sea Bonds

"My childhood is not something that I appreciate or want to remember. Yet, despite everything I've been through, I do think it is pleasant to look back on the days when I met them. You see, (Y/N) was bullied too. They were just like me, relentlessly bad mouthed and hurt by the kids around us. However, they never failed to greet me every day with a bright smile on their face."

>"What a sunny person."

"They'd also always have the courage and bravery to stand up for me, often taking the brunt of the bullying. I wish I could say I did the same for them...but I was far too cowardly back then..."

>"Wow. You two must be really close, then."

"Of course. They've been through a lot.Which is exactly why I won't allow anyone to speak ill of them anymore." Azul pauses, smiling slyly. "Say, Yuuken. You'll tell me if anyone casts aspersions on my Angelfish, won't you?"

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J.L | JADE LEECH

About: A Helping Hand

"Hm? What's that? Ah, you’ve met my darling pearl. I see. I do notice how you’ve been frequenting Monstro Lounge lately…Have you perhaps acquired a romantic interest towards them? No? Hehe, Alright." "Now, to answer your question, yes, that is right; (Y/N) routinely comes over to visit and aid me in my Mountain Treks. I couldn't be more grateful for their assistance."

Chat: The Pearl Ring

"Oya? I see you're curious about the ring I've been crafting. Well, it's for (Y/N). You see, in merfolk culture, we create handcrafted jewelry to serve as a courting gift. This is one of many ornaments I plan on giving them. Though, this one is...particularly unique. Ah, well...(Y/N) Leech does have a nice ring to it, does it not?"

Personal Story: A Jaded Reaction

"Oya? (Y/N) is spending the night at Ramshackle? Whatever reason for?"

>"Grim wanted to have a game night."

"Ah. I see. How...lovely. What's that? My smile is frightening you? Oho, now is it? Hehe, my deepest apologies. We eels tend to be quite...protective. I so anticipate you to take good care of them. And fret not, as long as you keep them away from any harm, no disputes shall arise."

>"Uh...and if something happened?"

"What if something happened...? Well, I'm sure you wouldn't mind being hunted down the face of the earth, tied up, and pulled down to the deepest pits of the blue ocean, where no one can hear your anguished cries for help...Would you?" 

>"..."

"Just joking. I would never do that."

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F.L | FLOYD LEECH

About: A Sea Walnut

"(Y/N)? Aha~~~ You've heard of my little sea walnut? They're so adorable and squishy, yanno!—Is there a problem? If you got a problem with 'em, I'll squeeze you." "Oh? Not scared at all, huh? Ehe~ You sure are ballsy. Tread carefully now, shrimpy~!"

About: Ocean Currents

"Whenever a strong ocean current comes, sea walnut always huddles close to me and grabs my arm. They've always been afraid of being blasted away."

"They used to do that a lot when we were kids, but it never gets old. Hehe~ Sometimes, I lead them to places where the waves are strong, jus' so they can cling onto me! It's so funny to see 'em get afraid and scramble after me when I move too far away. "

Personal Story: Shark Attack

"Hmm~? Oh, what're these bite marks? Rad, aren't they? I got them after fighting a buncha' sharks."

>"Sharks?! Why would you do that?"

"To get these. It's shark teeth. Our anniversary is comin' up, and Jade suggested that I should make some jewelry for them. It's a merfolk courting thing. Azul 'n Jade told me to get them pearls, but I thought that was boring. So, I'm making one with shark teeth instead! Isn't that cool~?"

>"I-I guess, but what happened to the sharks?"

"Ugh. None of them were a fun hunt. The entire hoard swam away so fast. Can you believe it???… I’m not the typa eel who would let my prey get away that easily, though. And it’s not like I had anything better to do. Ehehe! There were so many of those sharks swarming around, but I managed to squeeze them all! Well, it was worth it in the end cuz I got what I wanted. I'll do anythin' for my little sea walnut~"

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J.V | JAMIL VIPER

About: A Hearty Meal

“What am i doing? Well, I'm making some Roast Chicken with Sumac Flatbread. Oh? Who's (Y/N)? Ah, Kalim must have told you, huh. (Y/N) is my partner. They are truly wonderful."

"For example—Though I like to think I'm skilled at disguising my true feelings, the moment I go to see them, they already know what I'm thinking. They have a keen sense of intuition and always seem to know what I need and when I need it. Truly, I'm grateful for such a caring—Ah, I'm sorry. I was rambling again."

Chat: Snake-Eyed Envy

"I can't dispute that a lot of people back home are vying for their affection.That bothers me at times. As Kalim's babysitter-ehem, retainer, I don't have enough time to check in on them every day...However, as cheesy as it sounds, I have yet to meet someone who is as smitten with (Y/N) as I am."

Personal Story: World Left Unsaid

"I soon understood that I was more than the circumstances of my birth, all thanks to (Y/N). In fact, My bond with Kalim has become stronger and more genuine thanks to them. I...realized my hatred for Kalim was just my desire for my circumstances to be different...I didn't hate him at all. Without (Y/N), I would never have understood it."

>"They must be very important to you, Jamil."

"Absolutely. I was terrified that I might lose them after my overblot. But to my surprise, they stayed with me. Naturally, it hurt them, but they were really compassionate towards me and about how much I had to go through."

>"Do they know of what you feel?"

"I...I don't think (Y/N) realizes just how much I cherish them. I don't think now's the right time for that though. I've hurt them too much and I still have a long way to go before I fix things."

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M.D | MALLEUS DRACONIA

About: He's Engaged?!

"I am, indeed, betrothed. Heh. Why are you looking so bewildered, Child of Man? If I'm going to be a king someday, it only makes sense that I would need someone to reign alongside me, no? At first glance, (Y/N) may seem aloof, but as you get to know them more, you'll see that they are actually incredibly lovely and warm."

"You never thought I was one for romance? My, my... What a bold statement, you best learn how to hold your tongue. Have you considered that I could use lightning to smite you where you stand?...Now, now—That was a joke. You don't have to cower in fear."

Chat: Safe And Sound

"My precious treasure tells me that I tend to get protective at times. Though can you really fault a lover for wanting to protect the one who is most important to them in this cruel, ruthless world. One where others will not hesitate to turn on you?"

Personal Story: The Art Of War

"I am actually the first of my lineage to wed someone who is not a noble. You see, (Y/N) is a knight-in-training. And, as you can probably guess, they served as my retainer. To see them at work was truly a magnificent sight to witness. They command attention and radiate strength. While I had always admired them, I could not bring myself to express my true feelings to them. Until...that night."

>"That night?"

"Yes. On the evening of Silver's 16th birthday, someone had rushed at me with a dagger in hand. (Y/N) was the first to respond and took the hit for me...The sound of their screams as the knife tore through their flesh was truly...horrifying."

>"That's horrible! What happened to the guy?"

"Worry not, he was taken care of accordingly....If there is anything I’ve learned from Lilia's many teachings, it’s that the worst calamities that befall an army arise from hesitation. To avoid further offensives, one must deal with and eliminate adversaries as soon as possible. Don't you think so?"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and are very motivating on my end!

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#im silly sim silly im silly im sill #twstnexus #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst voicelines

[allysunny]

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

[woozvc]

shifts.

(part of my seventeen first love series!) [m.list]

synopsis - working at a 24/7 hypermarket and thinking you're about to get killed is not fun...but the dude you meet is beautiful so hey worth it?

pairing — jeonghan x gn!reader (reader is called pretty once)

genre/s — fluff, jeonghan is a menace, friends older brother troupe if you squint, reader works at a hypermarket late at night

cw— mentions of dark streets and getting followed (but like not really because he thought you were someone else), one direction is mentioned for a second (yes this is a cw), a lot of cursing

w/c - 1k ish

it's 11:03pm when your shift is finally over. it's a quiet friday night, the 24/7 hypermart you're working at is pretty empty which is perfect. most of your shift was spend in just organizing the shelfs and listening to music. that's why you love working here, it's easy money and it's near your house so why not?

“y/n! thank you so much for covering my shift today!”

“hey haein, how was your meeting?”

“um..it was fine haha, I know you like your 11-4am shift more but i had no choice, hope I'm not ruining your saturday”

“it's fine, I was free today anyway”

“let me get changed and you can log out” haein gives you a small smile.

haein is a year younger than you, you first met her when she randomly once ran into the shop at 1am in dire need of ramen. it looked like she was on the verge of tears. that told you enough, she was definitely your type of person.

“is it really that cold or are you dramatic?” haein chuckles looking at your large comically hoodie. you got it matching with her a few weeks ago. she wanted to thank you for putting up with her antics at early hours of the morning. you didn't refuse, a free hoodie is a free hoodie.

“it's December and I'm cold." you give her a glare (affectionate)

"don't leave the store until mark comes in and please dont put your headphones on, if someone walks in your need to greet them” haein gives you a small laugh with a salute and hugs you.

walking through this neighborhood has never been a problem. you know this place like the back of your hand, nothing could go-

“huh?” you turn around. there was something. you swear you felt someone walk behind you.

you look around for a minute, no ones around. that's when you decide to book it. taking a deep breath you start to run and crash into something, or, someone.

“haein chill out why the fuck are you running”

“who the fuck are you??”

you stare at the boy in front of you. long hair, lean frame and beautiful eyes-

“you're not haein.”

“last time i checked no I'm not” you quip back at him. being good looking does not excuse being a bitch.

“oh my god I'm so sorry” he extends his hand out to you which you take and pull yourself up.

“you have the same hoodie as my sister so i thought you were her.. I was planning to scare her so that i could ask why she was out so late I'm really sorry. it's just that usually her shifts ends right now and she takes this street home and”

“jeonghan?”

"you know me?"

it made sense. haein would come in sometimes and rant about her menace of a brother who she loved but sometimes was hard to deal with. for someone who has so much shit talked about him, damn does he look good.

you spend the next 5minutes telling jeonghan about how you know haein, the matching hoodies and why you were leaving the store at her shift time.

“she had a meeting with a club? she's not in any clubs?"

"I don't know I don't interrogate your sister"

“maybe you can” he hands his phone out and you give him a confused look

“put your number in, I'll ask you for sister updates. you can be my spy”

“that's creepy”

“I'm just concerned for her”

“still creepy”

“okay how about you give me your number because I think you're pretty”

you're so glad the street has barely any lights or he would've seen you red as a tomato right now. you quietly take his phone and put your number in, no further words needed.

jeonghan smiles at you and saves your number.

“I'll go meet haein now but I'll text you, you have good taste” and he walks away laughing. you stand there confused. what does he mean by good taste??

you start to walk home when it hits you. he pointed at your bag. a bag with a one direction badge on it that you put on when you were 12 and forgot about it.

“definitely a menace.”

a/n - I'm still on hiatus but I wrote this at 4am when I was sad and needed something to do sorry if it's not my best work :/

#—🪭first love #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #seventeen series #caratsland #svt jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan #jeonghan svt #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen yoon jeonghan #svt x you #svt x reader #svt x y/n #svt #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n

[bonny-kookoo]

Lmao I'm rly fucking tired and accidentally almost posted this ask on my account for some reason instead of as an ask before I caught myself haha but anyways

Hehe so based on this google result about dogs, I was wondering about a drabble with sweet tooth jk buying or giving oc a plushie a few days or so after the first night as a way to comfort/distract her? Maybe he suggests she hold (or him lol) it if she feels lonely. Ur so cool and hope ur feeling good 🫶🫶🫶

Yoongi knows exactly what Jungkook is doing, even if the dog hybrid himself is unaware. You don't seem to realize it either- only Jimin is suspecting something going on as the dog hybrid watches with a wagging tail how you hold the soft lion plush close to you, one hand absentmindedly feeling the soft fabric of the short legs of it.

The lion isn't new at all. It's his- and he's been doing these things for a while now, ever since the camping trip.

Everytime you come over to Yoongis and Jungkook's place, he either drops one of his few plushies in your lap, or attempts to gain your attention in other ways- typically by taking you outside into the garden to look at the fruits he's growing.

You think it's cute- but you fail to really spot the underlying meaning of it.

Though, it's the same way the other way around- Jimin having noticed the way you sometimes push yourself into his side randomly when sitting next to him. Other times, like right now with the lion pillow, he can clearly see your hands grabbing the plush toy, before opening your palms again, just to dig your fingers back in.

Kneading.

And there's also, of course, your typical cat-behavior; from knocking stuff down just to catch Jungkook's attention back on you, to blatantly sitting on his lap even when he's clearly doing something.

"Jungkook likes her." Yoongi says to Jimin next to him, as they watch you push your shoulder into Jungkook's side, who's currently showing you a video on his phone.

"I mean, she seems to like him too. That was what we hoped for, right?" Jimin wonders, having to stiffle a small laugh under his breath when Jungkook has to lift his arms a bit, eyes wide open in surprise while you stubbornly climb into his lap, halfway leaning on him now, tail happily curled around you before you resume watching. The dog hybrid checks in with Jimin for a second with his big round eyes, before he seems to relax again, carefully positioning his arms again to resume the video.

"Hmhm. Though I think they like each other a bit more than we thought they would." The oldest human laughs, shaking his head before he resumes his cooking.

"Wait, you think-" Jimin starts, a bit caught off guard.

"It's pretty obvious. He's definitely head over heels for her, poor guy." He chuckles, turning the steaks in the pan. He's happy for Jungkook- you don't seem like a genuinely bad person at all, after all, you've started to become awfully soft for the dog hybrid, despite what you're saying and trying to portray with your acting.

Jimin, however, doesn't really know what to think. He's so used to your attention always being on him, that he feels a bit lost now. Do you not like him any longer? And if that's the case, can he himself deal with that?

He doesn't want to choose between Yoongi and you. Why can't he have you both?

#bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #yoongi imagine #jimin imagine

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

loved the beach Jake drabble!!! It got me thinking about one of the daggers ACTUALLY catching him full on in the act (if that's something you'd wanna write of course xx)

YES I DO, YES YES YES - also thank you sm, glad you liked it!!!! disclaimer for this one: i know nothing about the us military so. haha. if he'd get fired for this um. ignore it.

as always, feel free to keep requesting (here)!

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

It's risky. You're well aware.

But it's also late. And you're pretty sure no one's coming back into the locker room anymore.

So you don't say no. You don't even say maybe. You just cross your arms behind Jake's neck and pull him down to you before he can finish asking if you're sure.

You've got him out of his flight suit in half a minute, let him work his fingers into you for about two more and then mewl so pathetically into his kisses that he chuckles and gives in to your pleas.

He's thrusting into you a few moments later, your legs wrapped around him, your fingers tangled in his hair, scratching down his neck, your back against the cold metal of his locker, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your chest - sloppy, wet and quick, all of it.

You're needy and whiny and entirely too close too fast as he rubs circles against your clit, your moans carrying far and deep into the empty room.

"Jake", you whimper, over and over, strung together incoherently as he hits all your sweet spots, groans into your skin and sinks his teeth into your throat. "Just like that."

His skin is so warm under your fingertips, so easy to drag your nails along, and he's doing everything right, everything, and you're so needy, so desperate, so close-

"Holy shit!"

Jake freezes and snaps his head around and you genuinely feel like your soul leaves your body for a second there, your heart thumping against your ribcage so hard and fast that you wouldn't be surprised if it jumped right out of your chest.

Over Jake's shoulder, you can see Bradley standing in the middle of the room, phone in his hand and door wide open behind him.

You'd been far from hearing the door open.

You'd been far from hearing anything.

Bradley's mouth has fallen open and his eyes are so comically wide that he looks straight out of an animated movie. He stares at you for one, two, three seconds too long.

You stare right back.

Nobody moves. Nobody says anything.

Then Jake presses his palms against the locker next to your head, shields your body with his.

"Get! Out!", he seethes, enough anger in his voice to snap Bradley out of his trance, who immediately throws up his arms in surrender and spins on his heels.

"I'm going! I'm going! Sorry!", Bradley calls out in blind panic, nothing short of sprinting out of the locker room with an unintelligible string of what you think are probably another few hundred sorry's.

You gawk after him for too long. Much too long.

So long that Jake drops his head against your shoulder and takes in a shaky breath.

You're panting as well, heart still racing too fast and too much adrenaline pumping through your veins. The reality of the situation takes a while to sink in.

There'd been a risk of getting caught, of course. But a risk that you'd kind of dismissed in the first place, because the squad had already left when you'd sneaked into the men's locker room after Jake.

And now... Now, Bradley had actually caught you.

He'd caught Jake fucking you against the lockers, plain and simple.

"Shit", you mutter. Jake pulls his head back and looks at you. He's still inside of you, his hands still caging you in, his lips still kiss-swollen and smeared with your lipbalm.

His eyes roam your face. You let him. You wouldn't know what else to do anyway. So you just let him take you in and slowly try to calm your breathing.

Then, softly, he presses his lips against yours - just once, touching briefly, lingering for a second too long. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, waiting until he kisses you a second time, then a third, then a fourth, each one longer and longer and longer. You've stopped counting when his tongue brushes along your lips and you part them eagerly, scratch your nails down his neck again.

When he starts moving, you're meeting his thrusts - deliberately at first, but the desperate need for him hits you like a wave and within minutes, you're moaning again, whining and whimpering as his kisses get sloppier and his fingers drop to your clit once more.

Tomorrow, you'll have to deal with Bradley and the squad, who he's probably already texting frantically. But tonight, you'll take Jake home and he'll make you forget about all of it for a few hours.

#x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun #top gun x reader

[ladyyatexel]

Hey, what's up, hello, I'm Xel, I truly have Donald Duck levels of bad luck and yet I do not have the rage button that makes things work out if I throw a tantrum, which feels like yet another failure of media, what is the deal with this.

The deal is:

Temp job had to let me go instead of make me permanent because the economy scared the 5 people over 65 in that department out of feeling safe enough to retire

None of my applications are getting interviews and I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Donald Duck tantrum did not assist me in this realm.

Holy shit seasonal depression I can't get out of bed like.... A Lot.

I have a convention to go to in February where I am selling art in the art show and where I will see many of my friends the only time per year.

I'm scared of everything haha wow 😬

I'm am an artist who just feels too upset and worried to art

I'm having trouble getting everything together and maybe will feel better with some level of stability? I need to do a lot of paperwork. It is proving hard. I have the Tumblr popular suspicions about my level of neurodivergance. (Fun story: I told members of my my family that I have thought in the last two years especially that I might have ADHD or Autism or something, and my cousin said, "Oh, honey *just the last two years?*" Obliterated.)

My abusive dad recently joined a cult and my grandmother thinks he'll try to contact me after 15 years and I'm fucking scared of him and that is Affecting Me in A Way boy howdy.

I do not have the money to pay rent even a little bit! I'm trying to get January and February taken care of maybe? So I can try to exist for this period of time and maybe not have a breakdown or get evicted or something?

Some real not awesome medical junk happening also because why not.

SO, I'm doing Tumblr's favorite thing and being a starving queer artist with brain worms who needs help. If you are interested in helping me out and making a donation to the "Why don't my Donald Duck tantrums solve my problems" fund, I would be Really Grateful.

I am on Ko-Fi, which is really just a funnel to PayPal, over here.

$2500 would keep me on solid ground. I'll try to keep a tally here in a read more along with a expenses tally if that would help you feel better about me! I know I've had to ask frequently in the last few months, so I understand thinking I'm full of it.

I have a commission to finish currently and a few buttons and things that need to be mailed. You could also ask for button and commission, but I am doing prep work for my part of the art show in mid February, so I'm not available until after then for that!

My grandfather used to do a Donald Duck impression that was really good and it convinced me that either he WAS Donald Duck or that old people all knew how to do this because they all talked like this in the era Donald Duck was from.

Here is Ko-Fi again. If there's something you'd like to see me post or unearth in atonement, let me know. If you'd like other places to aim your dead green American presidents, I can give you that too.

Thanks for reading and/or reblogging! Tell me how Donald Duck's freakouts impacted you. Take care of yourselves!

Rent is $710/month, so 1420 is January and February.

65 for the internet, 130

65 for car insurance, 130

65 for electric unless I can get the assistance plan up again, same 130

250 to survive at the con maybe?

Also just like food until i can get the foodstamps stuff sorted??

Gas???

Anyway, that's an idea of what and why, if that is helpful.

Jan 8:

We are at $460!

Thanks!

#mutual aid #help #donations #charity #i feel real ashamed to have to do this! :D

[bearhugsandshrugs]

I’d love for you to add more to the list of Gortash’s kinks if you’ve got more!

You got it! I can still think of more but I had to stop myself haha

Voyeurism

Gortash loves watching you. He wants to see you get off, by yourself or with him, and he'll ask you to masturbate in front of him or fuck him in front of a mirror. Hearing you moan or seeing you close your eyes with lust as you stroke yourself is a big turn on, and he'll patiently wait for just the right moment to join in on the action.

He also takes note of every little detail: how you work your fingers (angles, pressure, tempo) and at what point your legs start to tremble. He'll remember that, for later – after all he can never know enough about you and how he can use that knowledge on you.

But don't think he'll creep around in secret – he wants you to see him watch you, keep eye contact, and he'll likely won't shut up during it either, praising you or giving you commands, depending on if you're being good or not.

Orgasm Control

Does that really surprise you? He's in control, always. So he will tell you if you're allowed to have an orgasm or not. Hearing you whimper? Having you beg him for release? Finger you, lick you, fuck you to the edge and then stop?

Watching you sob for more, only to decide you have to work more for it first, shoving his cock in your mouth again while your body calms down, only so he can edge you back later? And then, finally, seeing you come apart only when he allows you too? Fuck, he enjoys it almost too much.

Bondage

Oh he'll tie you up and he knows more knots than a sailor. Not that he would bother with ropes though. He prefers to chain you up, maybe even collar you, completely on your knees where he loves to see you serve him.

If you think he would never agree to be tied up himself though you're wrong. However, he has to be convinced that you know what you're doing first. Because after all, if he gets tied up, he can't take action.

And last but not least, even though he'd never admit it, he has to like you. Trust you? Well who would dare to lay a finger on him anyway? But like you? Yeah. Otherwise why bother with all this if he can get off much more efficiently, rather than leave this to your hands?

Blindfolds

Another one that he can switch on: Yes, he likes having you blindfolded and at his mercy, but he'll also enjoy being blinfolded himself. Show him what you can do to him, hm? All his remaining senses being heightened, surrendering to you, potentially with the thrill of the unknown, especially when he's tied up himself? – oh he's into it. A lot.

#enver gortash #gortash x reader #my writing

[frankcastleonlyfans]

Could you possibly do one where Aemond reacts to finding out that he might have to marry Daemon’s daughter? Would he be mad or weirdly happy in a way. We all know what daemon thinks of what his brother has in store for his daughter and he is not having it.

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au | aemond targaryen x daemon's daughter!oc

warnings: fluff(?), aemond is his own warning, cussing because aemond has a dirty mouth.

author's note: I'm truly obsessed about this bc I never thought about Aemond's reaction to being betrothed. This is going to be in headcanon format due most of it just being from Aemond's pov. Thank you so much for your amazing idea <3 also wrote this while listening to "the red means i love you" and i'm shipping alymond 😭

read this headcanon for context of this story

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 enjoy your reading.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

"I know you're lying, Aegon. Don't you have anything better to do? Maybe some young maid to fuck?"

Aegon scoffed, "Well, if you don't believe me, go talk to father about it. I'm just telling you what I heard."

Aemond believed his brother was nothing but a drunk liar, so his word didn't actually meant anything.

But he went to talk to the King anyways.

While walking through the corridors, Aemond thought about what that meant to him.

He wanted to be mad about it, but it wasn't that bad.

In fact, it wasn't bad at all.

He knew Alyssa Targaryen pretty well. He knew how feisty that pretty little thing could be. She did took his eye, after all.

And Aegon wasn't lying.

"I don't hope you to understand, but our line must spread. She's a pure valyrian, and would make to you a good wif– Why are you smiling?" King Viserys questioned, raising a curious eyebrow.

Aemond chuckled, "Have you told Daemon?"

"I did... He was furious about it." Viserys confessed.

"Well, that's great! I'll give these exciting news to my betrothed, myself. I couldn't be more happy about your choice, father." Aemond left the king's chambers without discussing if Daemon agreed or not.

Aemond knew Daemon wouldn't let Alyssa marry him.

He also couldn't care less. His father was the king.

Aemond couldn't put in words the taste of satisfaction in his mouth once he knew how angry Daemon was about his union with his uncle's daughter.

The girl literally took his eye, the least she could do is marry him without complaining.

Oh, but she would be furious too. He knows she's just like her daddy.

"I figured I'd find you here." Aemond said with a smile.

Ever since Daemon gave her her own sword, Alyssa spent quite some time in the training yard when the boys weren't there.

Curiously, Aemond always knew when she was there.

"And what do you want?" Alyssa spat, slamming her sword towards a wooden target.

"I came to give you the great news! I couldn't believe my own ears when I heard it."

"Oh? Did your mother successfully try to kill anyone? I hope it was your grandsire. Gods, I hate that man." Alyssa chuckled and beheaded the target.

Aemond frowned and squinted. He wouldn't fall for her games. He was the one to tease, not her.

"Haha. You're so funny, Alyssa. I bet it wouldn't take long for me to fall for you." Aemond coaxed.

Alyssa blinked a couple of times, processing what he just said.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" Aemond smirked.

Alyssa took a deep breath before asking, "What the fuck are you talking about, One Eye?"

Aemond clicked his tongue, "Gods, you're just as fucking stupid as you're pretty. It means we're betrothed. I'd be treating my future husband with respect, if I were you."

"Are you crazy?" Alyssa hysterically laughed, "My father would have your head before letting me marry you." She pointed her sword towards the prince, "I would have your head before giving myself to you."

"Kinky." Aemond retorted and lowered her sword with the point of his index. "Who's your father to disrespect the king's orders?"

Alyssa swallowed hard. She had no answer for that. Even the dumbest girl knows the king's word is above everything. And she is no dumb girl.

She left him there and went looking for her father.

She thought about a million possibilities.

Maybe she could run away? They lived in Pentos for a while, she'd do well there.

No, Y/N wouldn't let her go alone.

What about Daeron? If she begged, maybe the king could call him back to King's Landing, so they could get married.

To be truthful, Alyssa didn't want to marry any of Alicent's kin, but anyone was better than Aemond.

But Daeron was the same age as her brother, Maegon. That was kinda disgusting.

"Did you know uncle Viserys wants to marry me to Aemond?" Alyssa stormed into her parents chambers.

Daemon's lips immediately left yours. You groaned in response.

"Maybe knock the next time, Alyssa?" You said in annoyance.

"Sorry mother, but I think what I have to say is way more important than you snogging with father." Alyssa answered with wit.

Daemon smirked, "It's okay, 'Lyssa. I'll talk to Viserys again. You know I'd die before letting this happen."

You rolled your eyes, "You're both being dramatic about it. Aemond is not that bad. He's a bit... violent, yes, but he would never hurt you. I promise you, daughter, violent men can be great lovers." You ran your fingers through your husband's little braids in his hair.

"Don't go giving her any ideas, Y/N." Daemon warned with a stern look, and you snorted.

"She's a grown woman, Daemon. There's a sword in her hand. I don't think you need to protect her anymore." You shrugged.

"Hello??? I'm still in the room, please stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Alyssa crossed her arms.

"Don't worry. I told Viserys you're not marrying Aemond, so you're not marrying Aemond. Is that clear?" Daemon asked, reassuring her.

"Yes, father."

read the second part to this story

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagines #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen headcanons #daemon targaryen drabbles #daemon x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon imagines #dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au #dad!daemon targaryen au

[gabessquishytum]

t4t that is also idiot4idiot.

Hob and Dream are both trans men, and they both OBVIOUSLY like each other, but they also both have anxiety about coming out to the other. And that anxiety translates into both of them completely missing obvious hints about the other.

Like, one of them finds pads or tampons at their house and is like "well he has lots of female friends, obviously he's just considerate". One of them sees the other has a "protect trans kids" patch and just "well he's an ally, obviously he's just a good person (that doesn't mean he'll want to date a trans person though)".

The kicker is that when they met, they BOTH had the same "haha, interesting name you got there" reaction and ALSO both were like "oh yeah I chose it myself haha" and STILL NEVER CONNECTED THE DOTS.

Anyway I have no idea who finally figures it out/ comes out first or how it happens, I just know they have a solid minute of doing the spiderman pointing meme. And then they fuck.

Oh I LOVE these idiots. I really really do.

So like. Hob is a very masculine looking person, you know? He's got the beard, the chest hair, he's had some gender affirming surgeries. Yeah, he's a got a little trans flag pin on his messenger bag and yes, Dream has heard him talking about "T" before... but Hob loves tea! That could mean anything! It doesn't mean he's trans, and Dream certainly isn't going to ask. His worst nightmares involve Hob rejecting him or being offended by him, so Dream keeps quiet. He doesn't want to rock the boat.

And... Dream is, pun fully intended, a transmasc dream. He's tall, graceful and muscular in a sort of understated way. Hob is absolutely entirely secure and in love with his own body but there's still a tiny bit of him that looks at Dream and screams GENDER ENVY. He's the most gorgeous man in the world, probably. And listen, just because he pulled his hoodie off and accidentally pulled his t-shirt up too, and Hob thought he maybe saw top surgery scars, doesn't mean anything. There are plenty of reasons for him to have scars there, right?

They're both idiots in love.

It all comes to a head when Hob gets injured in a stupid accident. He ends up somewhat bedbound, and Dream volunteers to help out (he'd do anything for love). The absolute horror of having his crush take him to the bathroom makes Hob wants to cry a bit, and he ends up just blurting out "I don't have a penis" when Dream tries to help him use the toilet. Dream just kind of stares at him for a second and then calmly says... "me neither."

They don't talk about it for a bit.

Dream helps Hob pee and get back into bed, and he's about to head out when Hob kind of whimpers and reaches out for him. So of course Dream crawls into bed beside him and cuddles him in silence for a bit.

And then they both start giggling.

They exchange transition stories. And then they exchange kisses. And eventually they exchange very gentle orgasms. And in between they cant stop laughing about how stupid they both are, and how in love they feel.

(Hob is so mad that he has to wait until he's better before he can get his favourite strap out and use it on Dream. The good news is, Dream has one he can (tenderly) use on Hob in the meantime 😇)

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #trans hob #trans dream

[actual-changeling]

you know, i was getting all sorts of ick feelings from the apology dance, and I'm so glad you pointed that out as not actually very cute or romantic in one of your posts, because yeah. it wasn't.

anyways i also just really love all of your crowley meta it's so well thought out and everything about trauma and healthy relationships i- it's just all amazing, so thank you (and sorry for the rambling lol)

Thank you! And never feel bad for rambling, I love rambling with people about this show.

The apology dance is such a sore spot for me, the entire first episode is, really. At first it seems - cute, funny, you laugh, and then don't think about it too much.

But then you do think about it and suddenly it is everything but romantic.

I might write a whole meta post about it at some point but the summary is basically as follows.

Aziraphale calls Crowley to meet him in the café and we're literally starting off with "don't say anything" for no reasons, but alright. Then he talks around the point, lies to Crowley's face, and eventually brings him to the bookshop only because Nina sped the whole thing up with the naked man comment. Aziraphale does not warn Crowley, doesn't say anything, nothing. Just jumps it on him.

THEN he refuses to "ask him properly", expecting Crowley to play bad cop and do the dirty work.

When Crowley tries to be a fucking adult about it and actually talk to Aziraphale in private, Aziraphale is already not listening to him. We get the "exactly" question, Aziraphale ignores every single issue Crowley points out because he has already decided what he is going to do. What he wants from Crowley is not a solution - he wants him to say "yes and" and do what he has in mind.

He THEN behaves like a fucking five year old with his "You're at liberty to go". I am holding myself back here but in short, this is a manipulation tactic. He is LITERALLY guilt tripping Crowley.

Crowley is incredibly taken aback and rightfully hurt, and Aziraphale feels bad and goes back to begging him for help - and Crowley almost says yes. He is about to say yes because he loves him and wants to keep him save.

Aziraphale however, for fucking childish reasons, goes back to his temper tantrum and throws "if you won't, you won't" into Crowley's face, sits down, and watches him leave. After HE called HIM for help because again, he didn't want help. He wanted a "yes of course aziraphale do you want a massage too or maybe a cocktail?"

But nooooo, of course it's Crowley who needs to apologize, and the fact that he is forced into doing the dance by Aziraphale is such a funny haha romantic laugh moment and not at all the fucking climax of Aziraphale's entire manipulation tactic.

Yeah. Fuck that, is my final thought. Conclusion: not funny, someone get Crowley into a healthier environment asap.

this turned into a little meta post i hope you don't mind rip i'm in a mood today

#alex answers asks #alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #good omens meta #apology dance

[eldritch-spouse]

Breg’s Angel coming home drunk and overly affectionate

He’s barely lifted a finger and they’re all over him, kissing his face wherever they can and cuddling him tightly

[YEAHHH. Here's a short one, this is a bit silly.]

TW: Reader's very drunk, consent is dubious.

Breg knows there's something wrong the moment he sees you.

The monster had heard shuffling just outside the apartment for a while now, frustrated tugging followed by the jingling of keys, then something almost like a growl. If he didn't know better, Breg would say some really clumsy robber is trying to break in. But that's definitely your voice.

The moment he opens the front door, he spots his angel locked in place, keys still raised like you're going to put them somewhere. A couple of slow blinks and you finally register that the door is, in fact, open. And there's someone in front of you. Sedately glancing upwards, dilated pupils study the breeder for a moment. Breg's about to ask what's wrong, when a crooked, dopey smile spreads on your cheeks. Your face is warm, he can tell from this distance. Are you sick?

" Breg!! " You shout, startling him. He barely has the time to process it until you've thrown your arms around his abdomen and hug him tight. " I missed youuu... "

His brain fizzles.

Breg's tail erupts into senseless swatting, he clings back to you instantly and chirps from the back of his throat, a sound he couldn't help.

" Haha- I missed you too? " He always does. Seconds pass, Breg expects you to pull back first, as is usual by now. But all you do is nuzzle further into his front, leaning fully on him. The two of you stand basically in the hall. " D- Do you want to go inside? "

" Mhm. " You don't move a muscle.

" Okay. "

The breeder takes a couple of steps back, maneuvering the door shut and taking the bags off your hands. Your keys clatter to the floor, but it's not like he can pick them up with you clutching him like a koala. Or rather, he doesn't want you to stop. You're drunk, he knows you are. That slurred speech, loss of balance, lackluster awareness- He's seen Fasma in similar or worse states before.

The thought of you following in the plasma monster's footsteps is both alarming and saddening. He wonders why you'd get hammered like this... Breg knows that people sometimes drink because they're happy, and that could be the case here, but you never struck him as someone who likes drink much anyway. What if you've been drinking with someone? Bad influences, trying to get you to lower your guard, vulnerable. Who encouraged you to drink? This is exactly why he thinks he should go with you to-

Breg's inner monologue derails entirely as soon as he feels a little hand trace from between his legs to the bottom of his slit, which flexes as if jolted to a pleasant awakening. Huh? The monster shudders, gawking down at you. Still glued to him, giggling at your own actions, you begin pressing kisses to his abdomen and tracing his entrance more insistently, no hesitation or attitude to be seen in your mannerisms.

Breg doesn't really wear anything indoors, there's no need to, and while he knows that's not exactly normal for humans, you never had a reaction like this to his state of undress. So it's definitely all that liquid courage in you coaxing this drunken petting, that he's definitely leaning into when he's well-aware he shouldn't.

" A- Angel? Are you alright? " What kind of question is that? Of course not.

" Are you deaf, Breg? " You seem irritated all of a sudden, this heat emanating off your cheeks. In fact, you look almost a tad sweaty. It's usually the other way around. " I jus' said I missed youu... "

Breg's mental fortitude holds itself together for a whopping three whole seconds before he throws it out the window.

Fuck it.

Drunk or not, you love him, Breg knows that. You wouldn't regret this later, right? Of course not! Besides, he really, really needs this from you. He needs to feel wanted right now. Maybe there's no harm here at all.

When the gentle petting to his already slick slit stops, Breg almost wants to complain, but you grab him by the hips, laughing playfully as you guide him from the hall, into the living room, and shove his ass onto the couch.

Breg's a little high from the attention, his other leg bouncing in excitement until you try to still it that is, succeeding in nothing but making your own body vibrate in time with the bouncing of his limb, which apparently only serves to amuse you more.

Well, you tried to, you're even weaker in this inebriated state. Breg just let it happen, a bright, excited smile on his face. You lean in to plant a series of clumsy kisses all over his face, letting him chirp and nuzzle against you. For a moment, Breg's content to lean back and let you kiss at him, already making blissed out sounds while you chuckle, probably at him, but he couldn't care less. The moment large pale hands try to swipe you onto his lap, you evade the breeder, dropping to your knees instead, head perched on his thigh while you just look at him fondly.

" I love you, you know? " You slur after a short pause.

He stops immediately.

Those words. The thing he wishes you'd say more often so badly. You've always hesitated, like it doesn't come to you as naturally as it does for him, like there's something wrong with them. But Breg knows you're just shy, you're not used to real love, true love! These things are hard for you to say, but one day you will, just like right now. On your knees, flustered, needy.

He's getting hard without even knowing.

" B-Breg! " You cackle, seeing both his cocks slip out, already chubbing. Even totally hammered, you realize how ridiculous it is that he's going full-mast from a half-hearted declaration of love.

" Hahahh I- I'm sorry... Hhn! "

It's apparently pleasing to you anyway, because soon he's being kissed and licked from all sides, a sloppy mouth taking one length down before popping off it to fetch the twin. You've never been this eager to go down on him before, sloppily sure, and you're definitely still occasionally giggling around his dicks, but the enthusiasm, the affection, it has him smiling and chuckling too, throbbing in your mouth.

" I love you too- Ohn fffuck- So much! "

Maybe the alcohol helped loosen you up, because the breeder swears you're taking his girth further than you ever have before. It has him drooling and lifting his hips, being a little mean to your face, but helpless in his pleasure. Especially when you gag and start fingering the small gap between both cocks. Holy fuck, you always know where to hit.

Breg pants like an animal, driven wild by the amount of drool your hammered self can't hold in, creating a warm mess that cascades to the cushions while you service him, occasionally lazily glancing at his dark blue cheeks. He's riding an amazing crescendo of pleasure when you abruptly pull away, causing him to make a groaned growl of a noise, disappointed.

Mild annoyance turns to lewd leering the moment he notes strings of pre-cum connecting your lips to his members while you recover, strands of drool severing to coat your chin. He's even more bewildered when you practically jump onto the couch next to him, looping your arms around Breg's neck and dragging him down, onto you. His heart flutters.

" Breeeeg- " You whine out, the breeder shivering hard at your desperate tone. " If you really love me, then fuck me. " It's a small miracle he didn't come right then and there.

He hates that he feels this way, but Breg wishes you got drunk more often now...

#Bregory #terato #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #monsterfucker #minors dni

[prince-liest]

Hi! About your staticradio series (which is PHENOMENAL omg😍) - I know you said Vox is kinda falling in love while Al will remain aro. Which is awesome, we love to see rep! But I'm wondering if they will end up as QPPs (who fuck, lol)? Or it'll strictly be FWBs? Gah it's diffifult to describe it bc labels are so subjective and often too limiting, but I guess what I'm asking is whether they'll have an emotional relationship too, however it might look with their orientations? Will Al in particular have any soft feels for Vox & be fond of their unique bond? Even if Vox is in love with him when Al himself isn't? (I worry that would scare Al away😭) An intimate emotional closeness regardless of the specifics?

Thank you so much!! I've been enjoying writing it enormously so it always brings me a lot of joy that other folks are, too. >:D Just a heads up, this post has turned a little long because it got me talking about Alastor and the way he handles his feelings vs his ego in general.

First: I think the answer to this depends fully on how you personally define a queerplatonic partnership! I don't think Alastor would ever go for, like, a committed relationship with Vox in any form, but I also don't think that this would necessarily be a sad state of affairs for Vox, who I obviously write as poly as fuck with his toxic yaoi husband. Maybe it's because I'm aro af, but I feel like from Vox's end, "Yeah, I get to fuck around with the guy I'm obsessed with and he's not, like, nice, but I think I Stockholmed him into giving a shit about me!" is not actually a state of affairs he'd dislike! Especially since it's got that shiny "I'm special!" vibe in the sense that Nobody Else Gets To Get This Far With Alastor.

As for Alastor's side of things...

I think that so much of their dynamic dynamic isn't just set by Alastor being aroace, it's also set by him being a fucking sadist and a narcissist, HAHA. Like, he is very much in the middle of developing feelings about Vox, which (if my favorite interpretation of his little breakdown in the finale is correct) is also where his character arc is heading with regards to the hotel crew in canon, too, but his friendship-and-trust arc is slowburn as all hell and not entirely linear.

Part of the fun in writing Alastor is the process of qualifying all of his feelings with his sense of superiority in a way that is protective of his ego. He is freely and openly fond of people when that fondness doesn't expose any kind of emotional vulnerability in him. For example: He feels a condescending but genuine fondness for Niffty and Mimzy, whom he protects, and that's safe! He's quirky friends with Rosy, who is a benevolent semi-equal who uplifts his ego, and that's safe! He... may or may not have started caring enough about the hotel crew to have put himself at risk for them, and that is not only dangerous to his physical well-being but also massively humiliating, which is arguably worse to someone like Alastor.

He has SO many ego-prioritizing defense mechanisms and it's fun for me to pay attention to because I, too, am someone whose cardinal sin is probably pride. Anything is permissible only as long as it can be framed in a way that doesn't insult his ego.

Anyway, the point is: I don't think "soft feels and fondness for their unique bond" is on the list of ways that Alastor is able to find himself feeling about someone like Vox. The whole reason their whole situation in 666: Live on Air! started is thanks to Alastor's awareness and amusement at how obsessed Vox is with him. He sees himself as above Vox, and knowing that Vox is more emotionally invested than he is is part of the appeal. It's just gone from (derogatory) to (fond). (Which is, guess what? Safe!)

(It also means realizing that Vox is falling madly in love or whatever just nets a reaction somewhere in the region of, "Wait, is that significantly different from what you were already doing?", lol, because the only thing that's changed is the flavor of feeling, not the level of exposed emotional underbelly that he thinks Vox is showing him.)

TL;DR: He likes Vox like a cat likes a favorite mouse.

#ask #personal #Anonymous #my writing #radiostatic #staticradio #long post #meta #alastor #hazbin hotel #this is one of those things that I have trouble putting to words in meta-essay format rather than #“look just. here's a fic. it's like this. you get it??” format #so I'm not sure I did my thoughts justice but hopefully I got close #at any rate. THERE ARE INDEED FICS. IT'S LIKE THAT. >:))) #666 live on air

[greenunoreversecard]

OMG HI?! I HAD NO CLUE YOU TOOK REQUESTS AND WROTE FICS?? IM HERE FOR A REQUEST GREENY !!

anyway, my request is for husk x optimist!reader, like the reader is this person who tries to see the light in all the crappy situations hell throws at them and eventually just can’t take it anymore and goes down to husk’s bar and gets a drink (which is a rare occurrence for reader) and then just starts rambling on about how life is just awful for them and that it’s just so hard for them to push through and act like everything’s just fine and dandy? and husk helps em thru it and carries em to bed? :)

gn! or fem! reader is fine for this, whatever you want!! feel free to take some creative liberties with this haha i trust you!!

i can’t wait to see it!!

— mio 💕

jsjdowid I do!!! I also try and request on others pages to help spread the love :p

The Healers Broken Heart

->Husk x Gn! Reader

Youve always been know to rival Charlie's pep and optimism.

But it seems today just wasn't in your favor, was it?

Maybe it was sleeping through your alarm. Maybe it was seeing someone you'd rather leave in the past. Maybe it was the date itself. The reasoning isn't to important as you make your way through the doors of the hotel and beeline for the bar.

"Instead of a drink can you just hand me the fullest bottle of pink Whitney you have?"

Husk raises his eyebrow at you, before letting out a low whistle.

"Damn. Shit day?"

"Something like that."

"Well, angel drank the last of theWhitney, but i got everclear, and a couple flavored vodkas and some whiskeys, if any of those suit your fancy?" His voice low and gruff as he quietly lists the available alcohols.

"Fuck it, gimme the everclear"

He whistles lightly again, turning from the glass he was cleaning to the display behind him, grabbing the unopened bottle of everlcear and setting it in front of you.

He watches as you screw of the cap, and throw it back, chugging a good amount of the alcohol, unflinching.

"I was gunna ask if you want a chaser with that, but by the looks of it you don't." He pauses a moment, eyebrows still raised in shock as he watched you drink like a alchoholic of 30 years, before remembering himself and going back to the blank slate he normally keeps his face at.

"Wanna talk about it?" He treds carefully. But this question seems to hit the dam holding back the floodgates of emotions, and tears lightly prick you eyes so you take another large swig.

"Life fucking sucks, everything fucking sucks and I don't want to deal with it anymore." You go to take a third large swig, before his hands stop you.

"Maybe wait. Everclears stronger than a muthafucka, so give it a minute to set in, and then decide if you need more." He says, prying the bottle from your iron grip. "And when your ready, elaborate."

And so, after a moment, when you feel it start to set in, you do. You tell him all of your woes. Tears start streaming, at some point.

And at some point, Husk crossed the island between you two, and brought you head to his chest, gently stroking your hair and listening. Listening and caring. That's not something your particularly used to, So to speak.

And at some point, in your now drunken stupor. He dries your tears, assurance pouring from his lips like a waterfall, as he carries you up the stairs, and towards your room, setting you gently on the bed and helping you when you ask to change from jeans to sweat, always remaining ever the gentleman. He sets advil and a glass of water on your nightstand, before standing in front of where you lay, bleary eyed and lightly kisses your forehead.

And as you fall asleep, you realise. That maybe, just maybe, its ok to not be ok.

And maybe it's OK to cross some professional lines with the bartender.

Because in the end, you won't want have anyone but husk listen to you and care for you, and Carry you home.

Even the healers need to be healed.

----

A/N ending note: Hope this was OK, and hoped you liked it!! Thank you for requesting, i really liked it and enjoyed writting it<333 sorry if its short fiejfjks

#no beta we die like jason todd #greeny's inbox #Hazbin hotel x reader #Husk x reader #husk x you #husk x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #Request

[jungwnies]

⋅ ⎯ ✈︎ stray kids | s. the first morning after having sex with them for the first time ! | g. headcanon, romance, smut, fluff ! | p. gn!reader x bf!skz ! | r. requested by anon ! | wc. ~0.9k !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀⠀masterlist | navigation

방찬 ‘ bangchan

boyfriend material 100%

he probably woke up after you considering he sleeps really late

this is the one time he is able to stay asleep for a little bit

uses that to his advantage and when you try to get up

this mf pulls you back down into his arms and kisses you like...

okay chan... thanks for making me a little delulu while writing this

bc i don't remember asking ?!!?

asks how it was making sure you were pleased

this mf knew you were pleased though

he just wants to hear it

kisses you and convinces you to stay in bed a little longer

이민호 ‘ lee minho

if chan is boyfriend material then minho is husband material

wakes up way earlier than you

prepares you a whole meal

and this mf runs you a bath after?

during breakfast you two talk about how the night was

makes sure that you enjoyed last night

eventually wants to cuddle so you guys end up back in bed

and who knows maybe he'll fuck you again till you can't walk

but i guess that's up to interpretation

do what you must with this info guys

서창빈 ‘ seo changbin

the moment you two wake up he's already arms open hugging you

hugs you so tight that the air literally leaves your lungs

asks how the night was and if you slept well

is so worried about your wellbeing

also makes sure to check if you're hungry or not because he may or may not have already ordered food

he wanted to surprise you what can i say

he was trying to be a romantic

황형진 ‘ hwang hyunjin

okay okay so maybe changbin wasn't too romantic

but let's cue to that video of that guy talking about what hyunjin would be best at

hyunjin is a romantic 100%

wakes up and greets you with sweet kisses

definitely implies that he wants to go again, saying it would be an amazing experience to having morning... yeah

asks if you had an amazing time and makes sure that you did because if you didn't he would be down to try again haha

but anyways, back on track

he kisses you when you wake up, literally hands all over your body telling you how much he enjoyed last night

asks you to shower with him and takes you to a cafe

literally so romantic and sweet

한지성 ‘ han jisung

shy shy shy he is so shy

wakes up all flustered n shit like he didn't just make you incapable of walking

asks if you enjoyed last night because he would feel literally so ashamed if you didn't

like i said he's just a flustered shy mess when you two wake up

asks if you're hungry because he would make you ramen

but eventually agree on buying delivery breakfast because even though it's tempting to eat ramen in the early morning, it is better to have pancakes or waffles

or whatever floats your boat

피릭스 ‘ lee felix

must i say anything

out of everyone felix is the sweetest and most romantic

scratch hyunjin being a romantic

felix is THE romantic

you can't out romantic the romantic

but anyways this mf wakes up and makes you pancakes

and then gets back in bed and waits for you to wake up

he wants everything to be a surprise

when you wake up he looks at you with such love in his eyes

kisses you, moves hair out of your face, whatever you want

felix is so domestic and you can NOT change my mind

asks if you've enjoyed the night and then takes your hand and brings you to the kitchen

he's set up the sweetest little breakfast ever

김승민 ‘ kim seungmin

likes to act cold af but in reality we know he's a softy

wakes up next to you and he just immediately pulls you into a hug

except he's spooning you so you can't see his morning face

literally says nothing and just holds you there

you should probably force yourself to turn around and face him and once you do

this man is a flustered mess

he's so flustered about last night and he asks you if you've had a good time

like who would've known this man who acts "normal" would be shy about asking you if you enjoyed last night LMFAO

영정인 ‘ yang jeongin

oh sweet lord

he is so sweet

but he is also a flustered mess along with the rest of skz

offers to get mcdonald's for breakfast and honestly

it's hard to disagree

while you two waited for the breakfast to be delivered he asked you how last night was

held you in his arms

pls pls pls

i can imagine y/n drawing circles on his bare chest as they spoke about whatever

the way he would 100% enjoy if you played with his hair in bed

the laughs that would be shared when you guys first woke up

funny moments that happened while you guys were tryna fuck

like omg !?!?!

kisses you and tells you how cute you look as if he also isn't cute af

ok so maybe i've gone a little overboard but what can i see

he's my bias -.-

2022 © jungwnies

#kpop #kpop fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz drabble #skz headcanon #skz scenario #skz imagine #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids headcanon #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff #bang chan #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee know #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #kpop drabble #kpop scenarios #jungwnies #𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies

[xciiii]

CHAINED SPIDER : CAGED!

　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　   　　

【⠀✩⠀】 𝘬𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘢 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 ! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

【⠀✩⠀】 warnings : dddne, dub-con-ish...?, bdsm (chains), no orgasm (for reader), sex on dirt, piv, dead body (uvo, not descriptive), mean-ish kurapika, i forgot how kurapika's nen works uhm, little smut (ig) short n not proofread, and overall might be triggering.

【⠀✩⠀】 this layout is lowkey sooo pretty! kurapika is acc so fine but chrollo is better, sorry.

"hm..? is this really what you did to uvogin? pathetic."

you, a phantom troupe member chuckled in anger. what a puny guy, how'd he kill one of your beloved friends anyway? that chain user faced you, his eyes being covered by his face but they were glowing a light red. oh shit ⎻⎻ he's a kurta clan member? you guys hunted them down awhile back for the boss, he was intrigued by their beautiful scarlet eyes.

such tough people who knew nothing about nen.

"oh shut up! you spiders absolutely disgust me! how do you have no heart?!?" the blonde man shouted at you, fully staring at you with his widened and blood-red eyes. for the first time during your fight ⎻⎻ other than when you realized he tied you up with his disgusting chains ⎻⎻ your eyes contorted to shock. he raised his hand to face you and clenched them hard, making the already tight chains impossibly tighter.

how much strength does this shithead have? you squirmed like a worm to try and wiggle yourself out, which didn't exactly work out because you know... your body was dry as well as the chains.

it was utterly horrifying how he bore his eyes into yours, he looked like he wanted to gouge out your eyes like how you gouged out his clan's eyes. your blood ran cold when you felt your chest being punctured by a sharp object, you could feel your heart pulsing and beating. "do as i say, without any objections and your life will be spared." fuck ⎻⎻ what was this guy going to do to you?

it wasn't like you could move anyway so it wasn't like you could disobey him. that was a relief because you could feel yourself losing it, being denied your sweet orgasm by the man ⎻⎻ which you found out was kurapika.

you just wished you didn't take the mission to kill the chain-user.

it was gross, sex on the floor, the dirt? that's completely against your moral code at this point, but hey, you didn't want to die, did you? no, no you didn't. you were numb at this point, feeling nothing other than you being thrusted back and forth. but even so, you felt yourself so... full so... warm. it was like you were addicted to the way you felt nothing but also felt something.

this feeling alone was amazing!

his grunts and your moans flooded the valley. it was so loud that you wanted to shut your ears closed but it wasn't like you could... haha... "you won't be getting a release cause you don't deserve it, but what you do deserve is to be set free. for now, at least."

you could feel his movements speed up and you could feel your insides rearranging with a numb feeling. his cock was hitting your gummy insides so deep ⎻⎻ you've never felt this when you were fucking yourself. you were so close, maybe if you just came without telling him, he wouldn't notice?

shit ⎻⎻ he has that thing on your beating heart and you'd die! no way would you want to die right now. "'m close..." you whispered out, just enough for him to hear you and immediately stopped.

he pulled out, you waited a few seconds and felt a warm substance land on your back. oh ⎻⎻ he came on you. you could feel him stand up and feel the relief of the tension on your whole body just poofing.

you sat on your knees and faced his direction, he was already fully clothed. "what are you gonna do with me now?" you asked him, your voice cracked and broken. he looked at you, threw your clothes in your face, and ordered you to stand up.

"i've removed my last condition and replaced it with a new one, do not tell a living soul we did this." he looked dead into your eyes while saying that, and then he walked away from your vision.

you walked through the big valley to take your mind off of what the fuck just happened. then you stumbled upon a big lump of dirt (is it dirt or sand..?) which you decided to dip up. it was a decomposing body that looked like to be your former comrade ⎻⎻ uvogin ⎻⎻ the one you were supposed to be avenging but instead got fucked by his killer.

"sorry, uvo." you sighed and kicked the dirt back into the pit.

you stretched "jeez. he didn't have to do that, i just got a facial." rubbing the extra dirt that got onto your face.

"what happened to you?" chrollo asked, with all the other troupe members staring down at you. all you could do was smile and walk off to the corner.

#hxh #hxh x reader #hxh smut #kurapika #kurapika x reader #hxh chrollo