#So no one is confused why their asks don't get posted<3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeoldenews · 4 months

Text

A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names

I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.

Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.

I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.

I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?

As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.

So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.

So let’s see what all that data tells us…

To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.

If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)

If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.

To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.

The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.

I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…

The Regency Name Popularity Tier List

The Tiers

S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.

S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).

A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)

B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)

C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)

D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)

E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)

F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)

G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.

H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)

Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.

Women's Names

S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah

S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria

A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca

B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan

C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla

D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>

E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa

F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina

G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah

H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity

Men's Names

S+ John, William, Thomas

S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel

A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#

B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy

C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter

D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon

E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah

F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent

G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah

H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier

# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.

*Rank as a given name, not a nickname

+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included

~Primarily used by people of Irish descent

^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent

>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent

I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.

If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.

Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.

I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.

I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.

The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.

I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.

Sources of the records I used for my survey:

Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].

Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].

#history #regency #1800s #1810s #names #london #writing resources #regency romance #jane austen #bridgerton #bridgerton would be an exponentially better show if daphne's name was dorcas #behold - the reason i haven't posted in three weeks

11K notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 3 months

Text

Careful - Chapter One

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Over Yet

We can go farther, beyond the end.

Summary:

You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.

That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 5,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?

A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.

...

The team had been in Portland for three days.

No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers.

A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers.

“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?”

He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers.

Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad.

Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects.

Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete.

They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree.

“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.”

She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued.

“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.”

“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized.

“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.”

“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.”

Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on:

“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.”

“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.”

“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration.

“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him.

“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.”

“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.”

He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it.

“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on.

“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.”

“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.”

“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.”

Prentiss visibly cringed at this.

“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together.

Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought.

“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.”

She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain.

“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?”

“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory.

“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.”

“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit.

This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again.

“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room.

“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her.

“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.”

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued.

Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain.

“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?”

Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile.

“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.”

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced.

A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from.

“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.”

“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk.

“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.”

“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-”

“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.”

“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned.

“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,”

“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed.

“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.”

“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.”

“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.”

…

The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office.

After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through.

So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did.

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers.

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.”

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.”

“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned.

“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed.

“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.”

The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it.

It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever.

It was you.

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?

Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully.

Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day -

You had a son.

A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now.

And his birth date was… fuck.

He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again.

One thousand, seven hundred and two days.

Four years, eight months, and two days.

It wasn’t difficult math.

Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child?

His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.

Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life?

Had you been keeping this from him intentionally?

He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with.

What the fuck was going on?

There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions.

Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe-

“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention.

Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically.

“Did you find something?”

…

All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them.

So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before.

It could definitely work.

When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone.

So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house.

…

“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,”

“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts.

He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air.

“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?”

JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend.

Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated.

Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation.

The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up.

But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago.

Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again.

It had been four years.

JJ was someone he could lean on right now.

“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest.

“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked.

“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it.

“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?”

It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look.

“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned.

“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer.

“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.”

“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.”

“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply.

It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him.

“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.”

There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time).

She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world.

So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby?

“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud.

Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together.

“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment.

That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face.

“One thing at a time, alright?”

…

When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning.

It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother.

Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more.

He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly.

And now the two of you likely had a child together.

Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang.

“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.”

She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you.

He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing.

He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’.

Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open.

At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return.

You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone.

Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you.

But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock.

He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever.

“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-”

You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot.

You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.

So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him.

You were breath-taking.

“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already.

You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock.

Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date.

The first night that he knew he was in love with you.

…

He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra.

It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on.

It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night.

Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness.

It was a perfect night.

Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat.

His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves.

And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled.

“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind.

You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place.

“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?”

Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic.

“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.”

“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this.

Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued.

“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.”

“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.”

Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer.

“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.”

Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more.

“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this.

“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.”

You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more.

“Interesting.” You replied.

“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.”

Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail.

“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.”

Spencer let out another bright laugh at this.

“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.”

“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile.

“And see-”

Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his.

He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was.

But Spencer was nothing like that.

He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips.

When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours.

“That was… wow.” He sighed.

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle.

“Well, I - you - wow.”

It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter.

Back then - everything had been perfect.

He had no clue where it all went so wrong.

...

Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar

#sundrop writes #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

2K notes · View notes

ruggiezz · 8 months

Text

— MOST TO LEAST LIKELY TO GO TO MCDONALDS WITH YOU AT 3 AM : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters that would accompany you to mcdonalds at 3 am

[characters] all (romantic) + ortho (platonic)

[disclaimer] this post talks about food a lot and mentions of unhealthy food (in vil's and riddle's part)

[extra] i'm having way too much fun writing character's reactions

── Most likely

★﹕LILIA VANROUGE

Bold of you to assume he was sleeping in the first place. Lilia was playing the equivalent of Overwatch in Twisted Wonderland when you suddenly asked him to go to the nearest McDonald's. He agreed instantly, and now you're both on a date, with you eating fries and Lilia eating a strawberry sundae and a cheeseburger..

★﹕ORTHO SHROUD (platonic)

He agreed instantly. Can robots even feel tired in the first place? Ortho will search on the internet for coupons and promos, but first let him equip his eating gear; he wants to eat too. Everything for his best friend. By the way, he wants to buy something for Idia too.

★﹕ROOK HUNT

Rook got out of bed even before you even mentioned you wanted to go out, he woke up when he felt you were awake. Rook is a light sleeper; he can even feel when you wake up to go to the bathroom. If you really want a meal at McDonald's, who is he to say no? It makes him happy to see you happy, but he will stare while drinking his strawberry shake. Not a "I'm judging you" stare, but a "I like to see you enjoy your meal" stare.

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA

He has probably eaten McDonald's at least once because Lilia bought the whole of Diasomnia burgers. Alright, you're both going. Yes, he's still a little confused over why you would crave a really cheap burger at 3 am, but Malleus doesn't even care; the burgers are good and he enjoys indulging in human customs, plus he gets to see you smile. The only bad thing is that the employees got the fright of their lives when they saw the literal prince of Briar Valley enter the restaurant.

★﹕SILVER

Still sleepy, he agreed. There are times when he randomly awakes during the night, so he might as well spend it with you, even if it was at a fast food restaurant at 3 am. He'll order an iced coffee and some fries and listen to you while you speak about whatever comes to mind. You'll both have to make it quick though, he may fall asleep there, and you both need to get back before classes start.

★﹕DEUCE SPADE

He didn't even understand what you were saying; his mind was still foggy from being woken up so late. He said yes, not knowing what he was agreeing with, but a few minutes later he realized what he agreed to. Deuce, not wanting to have gotten your hopes up only for him to say no, got up and accompanied you anyway. He still enjoyed himself though, as long as he is with you, he's happy.

★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI

He's tired because of how many errands Leona made him do yesterday, but you know what? He will still go. Food is food, and he could never refuse it. Leona lets him grab his credit card anyway, so order whatever you want, Leona will pay, even if he doesn't know that. It's not like he checks his credit card's expenses, so don't worry about it.

★﹕JACK HOWL

When he confessed to you a few months ago, he didn't expect that would mean signing up for you waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him to accompany you to eat fast food outside of campus. Still, he's your boyfriend, and he can't let you go alone, it's dangerous. Even if he doesn't feel like ordering anything, he will sit there with you until you finish your meal, chatting with you in the meantime.

★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA

You're lucky he loves you too much; he would have said no if you were another person. So now Ace is sitting at McDonald's, almost falling asleep while eating some nuggets. That one song they keep replaying will haunt him in his dreams; it got stuck in his head for like, a week. Riddle reprimanded him the next day for falling asleep during history class.

★﹕CATER DIAMOND

Out of everything he could have expected a person to say at 3 am, it certainly wasn't "I want to go to McDonald's". Cater takes a selfie with you inside and uploads it to his Magicam story, the close friends one, so Riddle doesn't realize he wasn't at the dorm. He still has no idea how you came up with this, but ok, it was for the funsies.

★﹕JADE LEECH

You're certainly unpredictable, aren't you? Jade stared at you for a good minute until he just got up, got changed, and went with you. Floyd has done weirder stuff during one of his mood swings; what harm can going to McDonald's do? He doesn't feel like cooking that late anyway. Just don't tell Azul you're both going to the competition, okay?

★﹕EPEL FELMIER

He had you repeat what you said twice to make sure he was hearing you correctly. You want to do what? Let him go back to sleep, please. Okay, whatever, he will accompany you, but make it quick. At least that's what he said before spending the next two hours chatting with you while eating. He sadly got caught by Vil when he came back. Rook snitched.

★﹕SEBEK ZIGVOLT

No, he has to make sure nobody attacks Malleus while he's sleeping. But with some reassurance from Lilia (and him asking Sebek to bring him a burger) and his love for you, he decided to accompany you. He'll ask for the biggest burger since he has a big appetite. He did enjoy it at the end; 10/10 would do it again (but he won't say that out loud).

★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM

He doesn't mind that you woke him up, and he would like to go, but there's a small problem: he isn't allowed to go anywhere without Jamil, which means he would need to wake him up. Jamil wouldn't be happy about that, and Kalim doesn't want to bother him either. So you both just order takeout and give the delivery guy a very generous tip.

★﹕IDIA SHROUD

Idia was awake, but he really doesn't want to go, and he's also farming for an event. Great, now he's craving McDonald's too. If you really want to go, you can have Ortho accompany you, but please bring him a chicken sandwich and some fries. You can use his debit card to pay.

★﹕TREY CLOVER

... What? What did you even dream about to crave McDonalds so late at night? Trey says you both can go on the weekend if you really want to, but go back to sleep, please. There's an important exam tomorrow, and you'll both be in trouble if you suddenly fall asleep in the middle of it.

★﹕FLOYD LEECH

He was not in a good mood after being woken up in the middle of the night. Floyd won't let you go, squeezing you so hard that you can't even move away from the bed. You're not going anywhere the whole night, and if you still want the meal, you can order some in the Mostro Lounge tomorrow.

★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

It's 3 am, what the heck. Leona says Ruggie can buy you some tomorrow; ask for as much as food as you want, but not at 3 am. He will fall asleep on top of you, so you can't even move, just in case you try to sneak out while he sleeps.

★﹕JAMIL VIPER

No, please, he's tired. He did so much work yesterday: laundry, cooking, folding clothes, tutoring Kalim, paperwork for an upcoming event, and preparing for an exam. He just wants to rest for at least a few hours. Go back to sleep, please. He promises he'll cook you a burger with some fries tomorrow. His cooking is way superior to fast food anyway.

★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"No, that's unhealthy", he says. Somebody buy him a happy meal or something, Riddle has probably never eaten fast food in his life. Either way, there's class tomorrow, and he would never forgive himself if he arrived late to a lesson. So no, you aren't going anywhere.

★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Why would you want to eat at McDonalds when he has a literal restaurant? Are you trying to buy from the competition? Now Azul is offended at 3 am, so offended that he dragged you to the kitchen to make you a meal resembling the McDonald's one just to prove Mostro Lounge's food is better.

★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT

Excuse you? Not only did you interrupt his beauty sleep, but you want to go eat McDonald's'? It's 3 am, please go back to sleep or you'll get dark circles. Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and he won't take the risk, much less to eat unhealthy food.

── Least likely

3K notes · View notes

gotham-daydreams · 9 months

Text

Not Here

[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]

(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)

Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain

Chapter 2 of this post. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.

He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.

Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.

Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.

Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.

The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.

Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.

["I, um, I was just wondering..."]

["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]

It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.

So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.

["Why- why you're a cat!"]

The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.

["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]

Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.

A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.

Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...

Was... was that...?

"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.

No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...

How long ago did this take place?

["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]

["Very well. Third chorus..."]

["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]

["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]

["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]

["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]

Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.

He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.

It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.

It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...

... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.

Why didn't you tell him about this?

"Master Bruce?"

The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.

He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.

Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.

Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.

"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"

"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."

"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.

"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.

You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.

"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.

There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.

Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.

"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.

It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.

Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.

"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."

"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.

He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.

"And this happened all three times?"

"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?

Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?

All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.

...

Wait a minute-

"Alfred, how long ago was this?"

Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.

"A few years ago, sir."

What?

At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"

"Oh, well, they're..."

... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.

Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?

Oh no.

What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?

How old are you?

"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.

Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.

This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.

--------------

Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.

Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.

Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.

"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.

Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.

... Should he?

He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.

Oh. You weren't even here...

Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.

Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?

Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.

Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.

Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.

It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.

Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.

Music.

Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.

Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.

The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.

All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.

He wish he was there with you.

He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...

He had missed everything.

From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.

Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.

... He had to find you.

No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.

So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.

He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.

As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.

Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-

Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...

Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.

Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.

Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...

When was the last time you touched these?

It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...

He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.

Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.

"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.

"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.

Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.

"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.

Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.

His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.

Your name was engraved on it.

"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.

"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.

"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.

Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.

It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?

Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?

"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.

"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.

Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...

... Oh god.

Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.

He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.

Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.

Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.

So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.

The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.

["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]

["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]

["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]

Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.

["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]

["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]

["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]

What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?

Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?

You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.

Now Dick definitely felt awful.

However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.

["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]

Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.

You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.

Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.

The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.

He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.

Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.

The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.

How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.

With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.

Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.

You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?

Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.

Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.

It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.

With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.

"I hope I see one of them."

Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.

What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.

"I hope the audience enjoys it."

His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.

Finally, he noticed the date and paused.

That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?

If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?

...

Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.

"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.

"About a week ago, why?"

Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.

"Have you seen Y/n around?"

Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.

"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"

"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.

"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.

"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"

To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.

Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.

Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.

As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.

Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.

Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.

Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.

"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"

"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.

The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.

"No... why?"

Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"

Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.

"When was the last time you saw them?"

"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.

"Jason."

"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"

Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.

"Dick hasn't seen them either."

"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"

"I haven't seen them."

"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?

"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.

"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.

"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"

"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"

"... What."

Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...

"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...

... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?

Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...

Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.

Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.

Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.

Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-

["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]

Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.

So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.

Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"

When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?

You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.

You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.

[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]

A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.

["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]

Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.

[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]

["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]

[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]

[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]

["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]

["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]

From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.

Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.

Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.

... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.

He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.

Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.

It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.

Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.

.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.

["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]

[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]

[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]

[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]

After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.

Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.

Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.

Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.

He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.

He had to find you. Now.

Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.

Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-

["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]

Wait... was that your voice?

Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.

["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]

Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?

[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]

The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.

Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.

["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]

["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]

["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]

It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.

Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.

She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.

Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.

This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?

That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?

... She wasn't sure.

["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]

[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]

["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]

[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]

The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.

Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?

The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.

She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.

She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.

Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.

Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.

Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.

Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.

While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.

Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.

The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.

Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.

In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.

All because of you.

---------

You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.

Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.

Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.

It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.

You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.

This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.

Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.

So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.

A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.

The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.

So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.

–––––

Well, that's long, isn't it?

Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.

Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #platonic yandere #honestly this is probably the longest post i've ever made #not series

5K notes · View notes

rusmii · 3 months

Text

🎧₊ FUCK HIM, I'LL BE YO' BABY DADDY INSTEAD

homewrecker!chuuya, dazai, kunikida, fukuzawa, sigma, fyodor, nikolai x fem!reader who's in a toxic relationship

tags. hardcore smut, sfw hcs (not rlly sfw hcs), nsfw scenarios, toxic (ex) bf, ur favs fuck you so good🤞, cheating, fingering, g-spot hitting, stalking, manipulation, gaslighting, dubcon i think?, stalking, porn videos/photos, p->v, lying, no used protection, cuckholding, inviting third person, cowgirl, mating, doggy, cuffed and gagged, bondage gear, clit stimulation, praise/degration, spanking, revenge sex, sex ed lessons, oral (f/m), blowjobs, cunnilingous, nikolai eating readers pussy while carrying her on the wall, g-spot hitting, mentioned nikolai murdering your ex 💀, NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL, BANNERS/DIVIDERS MADE BY ME.

ps. I HATE THIS POST SM. IM NEVER WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAINNN😭😭 !!!! as u can see i removed ango and tecchou..

i'm currently hosting a nsfw event for my 400+ followers that'll end when i hit 500 and im currently at 460+ already.. if u wanna join before it ends pls do so! I'll be posting all event reqs after the event closes <3

don't steal anything from @rusmii, including the contents of this post.

rules (for m.list) | taglist: @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @xxcandlelightxx @iheartpieck @ezelium @saelique @little-miss-chaoss

00.1 #𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀

CONFUSED ASF.

honestly brought up the topic abt calling the police multiple times.

is so sosososo confused on why you don't want him to help you and take care of the man :(

you're his best friend, so why don't you ask him for help??

well... he gets his answer one day when your urgently call him to come over.

The door swung opened. There, Kunikida saw you dressed in your skimpy lingerie with a small smirk on your face. "Kuni~ So glad to have you join us for tonight's punishment!" Confused, Kunikida raised his brow. "Is there something wrong?" He asks, allowing himself into the coze of your home — shutting the door lock. You shook your head, "No, just needed you and my boyfriend for something today." Your boyfriend. Concealing his snarl, Kunikida clears his throat and asks you to lead the way.

When you open the door down the hall, Kunikida is met by a man handcuffed and gagged in a chair as well as... bondage gear..? "[Name], what is this?" Kunikida questions, anxious about what you were going to say next. You say nothing and drag him inside the room, locking the door shut before having him sit on the bed. You bend your knees, now eye level to Kunikida's crotch, and what you say next surprises the fuck out of him. "Let's cuck my ex?"

Least to say, Kunikida couldn't deny your request — with how wonderfully beautiful you are, bouncing on his cock. He groans, your insides felt absolutely amazing. "[Name]~ Just like that, rotate your hips just like that - Ghnn~" He places his hands on your hips. You turn back to look at him, a lewd expression hidden by your composed structure. "Oh fuck! Mhm~ Kunii~ Your cock is so biiiigg!" You moan — Kunikida, as an ideal man, never thought that he'd let his best friend cowgirl him in front of her boyfriend. But yet again, you did say that he was your ex right before he started.

So he doesn't need to feel guilty because of his morals, right? That set aside, Kunikida glances at your ex, his face full of snot and tears. He grits his teeth, suddenly feeling hard as hell when he realizes that you were close. Your pussy clamps hard on his dick, the pressure causing him to thrust upwards. "OH!~ Fuck!~ Kunikida!!!~" You mewl, loving this sudden surprise. "Shut it - you whores are always so damn loud," he finally let loose, thrusting up roughly every chance he got.

You squeal, legs shaking and head thrown back. You could hear the muffle yells of your ex, but you didn't care. You didn't want to fuck his pussy soaked wrinkled dick from other girls. So as a last farewell, you spread open your legs — wide. "Kuni!~ Kuni!~ Gonna cum!~" You warn a second before you came — your juices spraying everywhere in front of you. Seconds after, Kunikida came deep inside your pussy — breeding you right in front of your ex boyfriend.

00.2 #𝐅𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀

not much to say abt him since I didn't study up on his chara😞🙏

BUUT. fukuzawa would totally def be the type to let you come into his office at any given moment for his comfort :(

honestly wanted to murder the dude but remembered his principles and how he left behind that past, so he refrains from prying too deep into your business.

always there to lend a helping hand at tending to your bruises if you got any

even rubbing your clit to make you feel better on d-day of your break up:(

An audible groan came from you. Your legs spread wide open as you sat on Fukuzawa's lap. His fingers treading towards the depths of your lower half. "Fuku.." You whisper, turning your head to kiss him. He engulfs your lips without hesitation, his fingers finding your clit and circling around it slowly.

"There, there my lovely - he does not deserve you 'nor your love, my dear," he says softly into your ear. His raspy voice doing wonders to rile up your arousal. "It feels good~" A faint moan escapes from you as your fist clutches the fabric of his black haori — his green yukata wrapped around your naked body. "Does it? Then does this feel good as well?" He asks, his other hand on your breast, stimulating your nipple.

The soft tease of your privates sent waves of faint pleasure down your spine. "Hn~ Fuku~.. T-that - hic! Uh-huhh..~" You nod your head, unable to talk through your sobs. "Alright," he chuckles, fingers gliding back to your waist to bring your slipping body back up on his lap. "No need to cry, darling. That man does not know what he is losing." He wipes your tears.

Fukuzawa's hands grope at your breasts, softly and gently. "Break up with him today - you deserve better," he whispers into your ear, his fingers trailing down your breasts to your pelvic area. You hiccuped, feeling disarrayed. "But - Ghn!~" Cutting out any doubts you have left in your system, Fukuzawa flicks at your labia — his fingers making its way to your clit once again.

"You can. Don't let that man scare you." He starts rubbing at a rhythm he knows that's sure to get you squealing in his lap. "Fukufukufuku!~ - zawaannn!!" A long moan strides from your throat — his deep grumble faint. Fukuzawa uses his other to grab your cell, and the first looks for is your boyfriend's. As your high approaches it's max, you hear the sound of a phone ringing.

"As you cum, you're going to break up with your him," Fukuzawa whispers into your ear right before you heard your boyfriends agitated voice — never mind that. You feel his slender fingers slipping in and out of your cunt. The feeling excited you. "I - uh.. - 'M brea - Eehn!~ Breaking up with youuu!!~" You squeal, Fukuzawa's fingers being forced out with the pressure of your orgasm.

Fukuzawa hung up as soon as you announced it, rubbing circles on your stomach. "Good girl, you did so wonderful [Name]. See? There was nothing to fear."

00.3 #𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀

this most likely happened at his casino

like say one day he sees you and goes "ooo pretty girl - nvm she got a husband'

but he sort of js watches you through his screens or subtly follows u around??? man can blend in but bit perfectly

so imagine his reaction one day when he catches your husband cheating on u with another girl in ur bedroom while u were in the shower?

yes he saw through the cams

easy! do the same while he's in the shower ;))

after sigma showed you all the evidence of your husband's affair, you were more than willing to get fucked the same way. "Fuck!~ Sir!~" You moan his name, yelping when a hand collides with your ass. "Shut it. Or do you want to get caught?" Sigma tuts, more motivated than ever when he hears your lewd mewls. But in truth, Sigma was nervous — what if you hadn't reacted the way you did? What then?

Your pussy clenches tight around his dick, bringing him back from stress hell. "Fuuck~ [Name], your - female reproductive system feels soo goood~" He moans from behind you, a hand smacking your ass. "Ah~ Th-the fuck - Gnh!~ Did you just say?" — "I said your pussy feels good! Now shut the fuck up before your cheating scum of a husband comes out and sees how much of a slut his wife is," he threatens — a sharp thrust ripping a moan out of you.

"A - yes sir! Mhmm~" A hand shoves your head down into the pillow. You hear Sigma mutter something, but you didn't bother to pay attention to it — having such good dick drill your pussy was mind numbing. "Ahn!~ Heen!!~" — "Shut up!" Sigma hisses, his thrusts speeding up. "Did you hear that? The tap turned off - your husband is coming out soon. And you better cream my dick before he does."

You mewl from his roughness, starting to feel that long awaited build up tip over. "Si-gmaa!!~ 'M cummin!!! Please! I'm gunna! - " The door is slammed open amidst your very loud moaning. You hear a gasp, and an angry shout come from the man behind you guys. "Shitshit - Mrs. [Surname] - your pussy feels sooo good," Sigma groans, pushing his dick inside your pussy as far as he can.

"[NAME]! What the fuck?!" — "Quiet. Your wife is a busy woman," Sigma shuts him up, pointing to your convulsing pussy wrapped around his dick.

00.4 #𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑

is honestly not surprised by how toxic your relationship is

he knows that you're a person who's easily manipulated by those you care about

an absolute doormat you were

fyodor understands the emotions; fear and sadness — but what he doesn't do is sympathize for those who has it

when you came crying to him about how your boyfriend wouldn't have sex with such an inexperienced woman, he knew now that this was the perfect opportunity to teach you the sex ed you didn't know

Fyodor's nimble fingers dangle down your jawline, your face clutched in his palm. "Open your jaw, Angel." Though what intended to sound like a gentle reminder, served as a command by the male above you. Opening your mouth without complaint, you let him guide your lips to the tip if his dick.

"Now remember," his soft voice echoes through the room. "Tongue first, swirl it. Then suck the tip." Doing as he says, you start off slow — the hand softly petting your head encouraging you pick up your pace. "Mhm~ Very good," Fyodor groans, watching as almost half his dick gets slobbered up by you. He smirks, the advice he was teaching you was to specifically pleasure him, and only him. But of course, you didn't need to know that. Not when you were following his instructions so good.

"Angel~ Such a good girl~" He moans when you start engulfing his cock whole. "Ghic - Mhm - Fwyo," you gurgle, choking on his dick. Despite that, Fyodor understood everything you were trying to convey. "Don't worry, darling. 'M close, you can breathe till then." A hand picks at the root of your hairs, massaging your scalp as praise.

You whimper, your oxygen level starting to get low. Attempting to get him off quicker, you use your hands to jack off the remaining visible skin. Fyodor hisses, an audible moan leaves his mouth when his dick twitches. "Angel - just like that~ Keep doing that, good girl - fuck - Ангел!" As his lips part, he slips in a foreign word to you — a jaw dropping grip held tightly on your scalp as he came.

Because of the tight space between your head and his hands, you were forced to stay where you were, taking everything his dick had to offer. After a minute or two, Fyodor leveled his breathing and peered down. Your etched tongue and wide-eyed expression made him tingle a bit — "God - [Name]..." he heaves breathlessly, caressing your hair. Oh ‐ Fyodor was going to teach you well all right — your boyfriend is surely going to love your newly learned techniques once he's done with you.

00.5 #𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈

BRO. THIS GUY.

being dismissive of your situation is not like him at ALL.

so yk what he does??? straight up murders the man and dumps him into the river to free you

then what do he do after that??

go to your place, relax, make you laugh, and get you to feel better abt yourself! — I mean, not like you weren't already feeling good, your ex of a bitch is finally gone from your life

and nikolai does give you the best night treatment of all time too;D (totally not my make up for the lack of nikolai)

"Fuck! Nikolai!~" You cursed, burning pleasure filling your veins as you were slammed onto the wall. Your legs were wrapped around Nikolai's head as he ate you out, using his surprisingly muscular strength to carry you with ease. His tongue danced around your labia and into your folds, teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. "Niko..~ Do something!" You whine, pushing his head further down in an attempt to feel more than the teasing tingling bits of pleasure.

He pulls away, a toothy grin staring right up at you. "Nu-uh," was all he said before planting a kiss on your thigh. " 'M gonna eat this pussy out like hub star~" — "Then hurry the fuck u-p-oghnn!!~" Your back arches off the wall, his tongue digging straight into your cunt. "Niko-Nikoniko!~ Th-at..~ Don't stop!" You plead as you moan. The white-haired man smiles against your pussy, his tongue roughly fucking into your sopping cunt.

"Ehn!!~ Fuck! Right there~" Grinding your crotch on his absolutely slobbered face, you release a long train of squeals. Nikolai curled his tongue, trying to find your g-spot. It took a few tries, but he knew he got it when you flinched and started squirming in his arms. "Fwucking sluut~" Nikolai's giggles were muffled by your cunt — but that didn't stop him from giving you teasing comments.

" 'M not!!!- Oghhh!~" He smiles, knowing that you're close. " 'Yer gunna cum on my tongue 'n nothing else!" He says happily, slurping up all your juices before shoving his tongue back inside with full force. Curling with such vigor, that tiny piece of flesh was hitting all the right spots in your pussy. "Nikolai!!!~ Nikolai!~ 'M - 'M -- Cu - !!!"

Without warning, a blast of your juices spraying onto Nikolai's face, blinding him for just a moment. He shuts his eyes, eager to keep going until you're whimpering in overstimulation — "Was I a better muncher than that stupid boy toy of yours?~" He asks, through his lopsided and arousal slobbered smile. But before you could answer, you felt yourself being pulled off the wall and thrown onto the bed. Oh man, tonight was gonna be a long night of relaxation.

00.6 #𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈

give him credit, dazai is trying his best not to shoot him on site — fingers itching the trigger on the gun in his back pocket.

he literally stalks him and takes photo/video evidence of everything your boyfriend does — threatening to show the world about his infidelity to the world.

sure, people in Japan wouldn't care as much as people from the west but at least women know who to look out for.

so that's what he ends up doing — exposing him to the world and tagging his company, his hookups, his family, everyone that dazai could get his information on.

you, on the other hand, came crying to dazai's doorstep when you were blamed for everything.

perfect — he thinks. now that you were here, he'd show you how much of a douche your boyfriend actually was.

"[Name]~ Come on, I know you can do it," Dazai purrs into the nape of your neck, his hot breath fanning your ear. "I - 'M trying! Hn~" You moan uncomfortably. Being shoved face down into the sheets wasn't the idle position for you, but who were you to complain when you were getting dicked down so good.

Dazai thrusts inside your cunt slowly, forcing you to feel every vien and crook his dick had to offer. Your body shook, his dick plunging straight into your core — almost hitting your cervix. "Mhm~ Darlin', you feel so good," He praises. "Dazai..~" You mewl his name, your body responding to him well. Dazai's hand presses your back, forcing your face to dig deeper into the pillow. "Your boyfriend won't mind if I fuck my children into his girlfriends womb, hm?~"

"Heii!~ Y-yes he wouldhnn!!~" You grit your teeth, pleasure racking up your body as he rotates his hips slowly. Dazai made an annoyed grunt, "What?" He makes a sharp thrust. "That's not what he told me the other day." He says, shocking you. "Huh? - What does..nn~ That mean..?" You ask — questions full of doubt starting to take over. Did your boyfriend not care about you anymore?

Dazai chuckles, another calculated thrust sliding over your g-spot. Like he could he read your thoughts, he pats your ass softly. "Aw~ 'M, so sorry, dear... Has he not been telling you of all his bitches he's been fucking behind your back?" And right on cue, you start to thrash in his grip. "Shut up! No, he didn't! Osamu - I swear to god -" — "Then what's this?" Cutting you off, Dazai shoves his phone in front of your face and starts swiping on the multiple photos of girls being dicked by your boyfriend.

You froze, tears starting to well up in your eyes. Was he really doing these things behind your back?... "Poor [Name], so naive.." Dazai thrusts slowly behind you. You sniffle, "He.. - How long?" — "A week after you two started going out," he says, dragging a thrust. Dazai then swipes onto a video of your boyfriend and a girl in the same position as you and him — pressing play, he sets the pace and rhythm to match your boyfriends.

"See that? How he thrusts inside his bitch like you never existed?" His words stung, the moans of your boyfriends stung, everything stung. "If he's fucking her like that then..." A powerful, deep thrust came from him. "Then he wouldn't mind this, now would he?" You sigh, pleasure starting to consume your senses again. "Yeah.." You moan.

Closing your eyes and letting your head fall back onto the pillow. Dazai smirks, playing the video louder — thrusting faster to have your moans drown out the video. He could feel your cunt squeeze his dick — a painful groan escaped his lips. "Fuck - [Name] keep squeezing like that." His thrusts now shallow and fast. "Hiinnn!!~ Osamu!!~ Osamu!~ I - Can't -" — "Hold it," he orders, his sloppy thrusts becoming vigorous.

"Ha~ Mhm!~ 'Sam-'samu!!~" You squeal, legs giving up as you came — your pussy squeezing him so tight he only had a second to bracr himself for his orgasm. "Fuuuck~..." He groans next to your ear, dutifully creaming your insides. "Haa~ normally.. I'd call you a bad girl and - hgn~ Punish you, but..." He pulls out, flipping you over on your back and spreading your legs. He watches as his cum oozes out your pussy, and grabs his phone.

He angles the phone to capture his still hard dick along with your pussy and fucked out face. "This seems like a fitting punishment enough for another person." He laughs. Going to your boyfriends number and sending him the picture, captioned; 'Be prepared to raise my children;)’

00.7 #𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 (fic bonus!)

anger. anger was all he felt every time he opened his door to see your swollen eyes and packed backpack whenever you and your boyfriend had a fight.

"shit - you okay?" he would ask as he settles you in, bringing you a cup of hot chocolate to sip while he runs you a bath.

and when you tell him you're fine, he calls bullshit but doesn't pry you further, wanting to get you as comfortable as possible at the moment.

"why don't you leave him? you're friends with the fucking mafia for fucks sake." he groans next to you, a cozy blanket. a bit too intimate for friends but it didn't matter if you two were close friends.

"it takes time. besides, i love him too much to leave him like that." you would reply back, leaning your head on his shoulder. the action not helping him stay in his lane.

it starts with small and subtle actions. things your boyfriend would refuse to do, chuuya did with/for you.

it made your heart swell every time, and just when chuuya thinks he's finally got you in his grasp — you go and happily announce your ex's fake ass apology.

this irks chuuya to the fucking core. what the hell does that serial cheat have that he doesn't? he's got money, looks, hell — the goddamn loyalty your ex lacks.

but every failed opportunity eventually combines into a one in a life time chance, right?

You sniffle, the alcohol intoxicating your system was finally reaching its peak. you glance at chuuya, his red face from the intensity of the situation and the wine from moments earlier made you fell swell inside. "Chuuya," you tug on his sleeve, making him look at you. "What? Wanna talk shit 'bout that dick more? -" — "- I think I love you."

Chuuya froze — was he hearing things right? Or was it just the alcohol buzzing his brain? "What?" He asks, still unsure of what he heard. "Thank you," you corrected your mistake, turning away when he attempts to lean closer to you. "No - I heard what you said. You said you loved me," he insists, taking you by the arm when you try to get up. You shook your head, invulnerability starting to wall up. "No, I didn't."

"You did." He repeats, dragging you back down into his lap. Though you couldn't see him, you could feel him burying his head into the back of your neck. "You love me," he whispers again — like it was some sort of affirmative confirmation. You stayed silent, afraid of what you might say next.

But what happens next is a blur. One thing happened that led to another, and another, and another — A groan falls next to your ear. His lips pursed, giving your ear a soft kiss before moving down to where your neck was. A line of hickies was the aftermath of the marking attack. "Chuuya," you say.

"I know," he says back. Stripping you of your clothes while trying to unbuckle his belt at the same time. You took pity on his struggle and took off your own shirt, unlacing his belt for him with a few twists. He stood on his knees, drunkenly watching with only one goal in mind — to take care of you.

"Lay down for me," he commands — your nimble fingers pressing against his chest as he circles up your waist, unclipping your bra and tossing it aside. Listening without a complaint, you lay still — the humming buzz from the wine, making you feel light-headed and impulsive. Chuuya's fingers make it to the waistband of your underwear, pulling on the elastic to stretch it — dragging the piece of cloth down your legs.

The cold air presses your labia — a foreign feeling from the lack of sexual activity between you and your boyfriend. And Chuuya knew that all too well. So when his fingers approach your lips, he's careful to gently touch it. You whine, the feathery feeling of his fingers rubbing your folds wasn't giving you enough stimulation to feel pleasure.

Chuuya swats away your hand from your clit, tsking as he does so. " 'M the one taking care of you - trust me, m'kay?" He soothes you, placing your hand back down to the side before readjusting his position. Chuuya was now hovering over your body — his already lubricated fingers pushing in one at a time. Your breath hitched, toes curled, and lashes futtered. "Ch-chuuya~..." You moan his name, the foreign feeling being washed away by a new sense of tingling pleasure. "Don't moan my name just yet - we haven't even got to the fun part," he says, his lone finger curling over your sensitive spot.

"O-okay - Hc!~" Another finger entered you. This time, the burning stretch was more noticeable. Chuuya notices your slightly scrunched face and bends down to give you a chaste kiss. "It's 'kay," he mumbles on the corner of your lips. " 'Tis only gonna hurt for a little bit - I know pain like this will soon turn into ecstasy for my girl when I do this." He curls his fingers, both brushing over your g-spot while he does. "Ghn ~ Hic -" Your eyes roll up slightly, the sudden bundle of pleasure hitting you like a boulder.

"Fuck - Fuck~" You drunkenly moan, the back hairs of your nape zizzing up from the chill. "Mhm, keep doing that," you command, letting out another loud moan when Chuuya rolls over your g-spot again. "Clit stim?" He asks, already rubbing your nub with another finger — but really, there was no point in him asking if he was just going to go ahead and do it. "Sh-it ~" A moan came from you, your head tilted back.

After a few more curls of his fingers, you felt that pressure in your abdomen that you craved for so long. "Chu-Chu- 'M gonna - Cu - Hnn~" His fingers picked up the pace when he heard your little warning. "Cummin'?" He chuckles, his fingers rubbing your spot. "Chuuya!~" You moan his name, feeling your approaching high climbing the coaster faster. "Fuck - can't believe I get to experience this. So fucking pretty - 'yer so damn beautiful." He praises. A combo that never ended well with holding out on your orgasms.

Your back arches, feet kicking the sheets as your hands desperately grasp for anything it can. "Cu-Please~ 'M - " — "Cum for me," Chuuya orders, his final swirl causing you to spiral. The peak of the coaster now falling down. "Shiiit - pretty girl." Chuuya spoke as he watches you drench his fingers. Once you were done with your high, you look up at Chuuya — his face glaring with glea. "Hi."

"Hi. How was it?" He asks you, rubbing soothing circles on the side of your leg. You laid there, reflecting on what you just done. Letting your best friend finger the fuck out of you even though you had a boyfriend. Oh fucking — what a damn predicament you were in. "I -.. I don't know." You admit, the awkward feeling of post orgasm hitting you. In a way, you felt guilty. Cheating on your boyfriend like that — but at the same time you felt giddy. The pleasure of sex finally being given to you by your best friend.

"Don't think too hard 'bout it," he picks up your hand and kisses your knuckle. "I'll be a better baby daddy then that fucker ever was." He winks with a smile, bringing your hand down to his twitching cock.

"I'll be a better baby daddy then that fucker ever was." Was the last rational thing you heard before you started stroking his cock. His breath hitched — a sigh of pleasure escapes his lips. "Fuck - you really know how to stroke a cock," he chuckles, watching as you smear his precum around his dick. "Hm~ Maybe you just never had a good stroke before," you tease his tip, a bubbly smirk donning your face.

He grins, stopping you from doing anymore and pushing you down on the bed. "Maybe - how 'bout you show me how good pussy feels next," he challenges, pushing inside your already stretched cunt. "Oh fuck! - Chuuya~" You moan, his dick curving perfectly inside your walls. "Hnn..." He grunts above, throwing your legs over his shoulders. "Finger fucked the shit outta' you earlier. Now my dick is gonna do the same," he pulls out just to the tip and gives you a harsh, first thrust.

Angling his thrust perfectly on the first try, Chuuya groans when he feels your walls clamp tighter. "Shiiit - baby you feel so fuckin' good." You moan at his praise, the feeling of his dick so snug inside was making you tear up. "Mhm!~ Chu - Hic - Good! Soo guuudd~" You slur on your words — Chuuya dicking you down better then any man that has even touched you.

He smirks, rotating his hips, watching as your eyes water even more due to the slight intoxication from the wine earlier. "Hnn~ Wait - 'Tis not enough." You whine, your head drooping to side. Chuuya curses. In normal circumstances, he'd tell you to ease up and love you slowly — but now? well, now the alcohol wants him to go to pound town on your pussy. And he was going to do exactly that.

Chuuya pulls out to the tip again, slamming his hips against yours as he thrusts inside. This time, instead of getting you adjusted to his cock, Chuuya fucks you with vigor. "Fuck!~" You moan, back arching off the bed a little. "Bitch wanna get fucked like the little cheating whore you are? Shit - I'll give ya' the same fuckin' treatment as porno hires." Threat or not, it was fucking hot. You loved the dirty talk and rough treatment Chuuya was giving you.

Folding you over, Chuuya picks up his pace — his dick now ghosting out of your entrance as it fills up your cunt every millisecond. "Chuuyya~ Chuuya!~ Chuuyaahnn!!~" He hears you sputter his name — drool dripping down from the corner of your mouth. Chuuya sees and sticks his fingers inside your mouth, moaning at the sudden clench of your cunt. "T-Toooo muuuchh!!!~" You gag on his fingers, tongue webbing around them.

"Nah - you said you needed this," he lied, putting words into your mouth. "So don't go fucking wailing like a damn hurt dog - remember, you were the one who pounced on me like a cheating little slut." He exaggerates on the last three words like it was his bragging rights. "C-can't!" You twist your body, the overwhelming pleasure building too much on your abdomen. Chuuya cooed, mockingly. "Yes, you can, sweetheart. Don't let my dick get in the way of your creamin'."

A loud moan escapes Chuuya's mouth as your pussy latches onto his dick — dragging its velvety walls so nicely. "Fuuuckiinn---ggg shiiiiit - [Namenamename] - making me feel so - Ghn~ Fuck! Good~" — Hiinnnn!!~ Chuuyyaaaa!!!~" You both spew nonsense at the same time, the wine finally taking its toll on your conscious control.

"Fuuckfuckkfuckfuckkk~ 'M cummin - Shit I'm -" Chuuya whines, the pleasure overtaking him, his rhythm stuttering and his dick twitching uncontrollably inside your pussy. You couldn't even speak anymore — all sorts of voiced thoughts were replaced by moans. "Shit - you cummin'? Can feel you squeezing the shit outta' my dick..." He grunts.

After a couple more thrusts and Chuuya's fuse fucking blew. He was cumming so hard his eyes rolled back and he had to clutch you to keep himself grounded. Once he opened his eyes, he was met to the sight of your fucked out, twitching body — and a lovely creampie! Hopefully, your boyfriend doesn't mind the fact that you two didn't use protection.

hi. I hate this post.

2K notes · View notes

celaenaeiln · 24 days

Note

Hiii, how are you? I’m new in the Batman fandom, but i saw a lot of people saying that Jason is actually Batman’s favorite child, and when i was reading the comics, i really though that Dick is Bruce absolute favorite, but i saw a lot of posts here on tumblr of the fandom saying is actually Jason and that the batkids all know its Jason, but i don’t know what is canon and what is fanon (quite honestly when it comes about the batfam i don’t like a lot about the fanon version 😭), so i wanted to ask you about it

And sorry if i said something wrong, english is not my first language

Hi and no worries at all!!

Yeah, canonically Dick is Bruce's favorite by a LONG shot and canonically the batkids all know this.

Infinite Crisis Issue #3

It's says right here in the comics. Really explicitly. But not only that, time and time again, there is clear evidence of Bruce's preferential treatment of Dick over the rest of the batkids.

One time the batboys and Bruce are searching for a guy that kinda is using the Gotham criminals as his subjects. So what they decide to do is split up to narrow him down.

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1057

But they run into issues because the villains chose a 'divide and conquer strategy"

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1057

Bruce gets swept away! Because of a carefully planned trap. But do you what he does the second he wakes up?

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1058

JDAKFA;BFJALEC

BRUCE LITERALLY WENT: "I love Dick and all the other not-Dicks equally" !!!!!

As if that's not enough, Bruce's biggest fear is that he's not good enough for Dick.

Bruce's fear about Dick-

Batman vs Robin Issue #3

because he believes this -

Bruce's fear about Jason -

Batman vs Robin Issue #3

because he believed he failed to do this -

Batman: Hush

Reminder: Joe Chill is Martha and Thomas Wayne's killer. Enough said.

If you want to be even more explicit about Bruce's preference for Dick over Jason it can't be clearer than here:

Bruce reflects on Jason's Robin tenure -

Batman (1940) Issue #428

Something a lot of people don't know/refuse to acknowledge is that Jason canonically did have anger issues. There aren't a lot of parallels between Jason and Dick but one particular thing that DC points out is that Jason and Dick both lost their beloved fathers. The difference is that Dick was able to move on and become cheerful even if he didn't get revenge. Jason wasn't able to get over the loss of his father and became angry. UTRH makes a specific point of talking about this too.

Batman (1940) Issue #645 "He knew that Jason Todd was NOT Dick Grayson."

Do you remember why Jason became Robin?

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce wanted Dick. He took in Jason in replacement for Dick. But Jason was not Dick and even on the day he died, all Bruce could think of was that taking in Jason was a mistake.

The batkids are well aware of this. Damian actually calls Jason Bruce's mistake too when he's recounting the story of the robins.

Here's what he says -

Batman (1940) Issue #713

That's Damian's retelling. Tim's is even worse -

A Lonely Place of Dying

Ouch.

Truthfully Jason is like Bruce's 4th favorite. In order of how much Bruce loves his kids it goes:

Dick

Damian

Cass

Jason/Tim (tie)

Tim/Jason (tie)

Steph

I think there's so much confusion about Jason supposedly being the favorite because Bruce grieved over Jason's that but I think a lot of people are conflating grief and self-blame with love. There have been two significant deaths in the family: Jason and Damian. If you look at how Bruce reacted in each aftermath, it becomes clear that he loves Damian more than he loved Jason.

After Jason's death:

Batman (1940) Issue #429

Batman (1940) Issue #431

After Damian's death:

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #21

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #20

He would forcefully make Jason relive the worst day of his life so that his other son could enjoy his.

Bruce's behavior after Jason's death was self-destructive and isolative but his behavior after Damian's death was to beat bloodly every single criminal. His reasoning for beating Dick after Jason's death was "Jason was your replacement. If you hadn't left I wouldn't have had to take him in and he wouldn't have died." His reason for beating Jason after Damian's death was "Your trauma matters so little to mean that all I want is Damian to live again and I couldn't care less about how you feel."

In summary, Jason wasn't Bruce's favorite either as Robin or as an adult. But even if it's not Dick, claiming that Jason is the favorite is so far off that no one is DC would remotely believe it. You would think there would be more analysis on Damian's death in comparison to Jason's because they were two big official deaths but I guess not for some reason. I ran out of image space but yeah there's more than just this overall. This isn't to say that Bruce doesn't love Jason. NO! He very much loves him. But he just doesn't love him the most.

On a different note - coming from someone who went from TT show to YJ to fanfic AND THEN reading comics, I've had relearn a lot about each of the characters. But for people still in the process of transitioning from fanfic to comics or just in the fanfic stage, general rule of thumb when it comes to batfamily content - NEVER trust what people say if they don't provide the evidence for it. People in this fandom are so wild that they'll have you believing the earth is the center of the universe, that you'll fall off the world if you go too far left or right, and that pigs can fly.

446 notes · View notes

sneezypeasy · 3 months

Text

The Lightning Scene, How Azula Targeted Katara (of All People), and the Doylist Reason Why That Matters

Mention Zuko's sacrifice for Katara in Sozin's Comet Part 3 as part of a pro-Zutara talking point, and invariably you'll get a Pavlovian response of:

"But Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone."

(Not to be confused with the similar-sounding Pavlovan response, which is "Zuko's sacrifice ain't shit compared to a mouth-watering, strawberry-topped meringue dessert"*, which is actually the only valid counter-argument to how the lightning scene is a bona fide Zutara treasure, but I digress.)

Now, I've talked in depth about how the lightning scene is framed far more romantically than it had any right to be, regardless of how you might interpret the subject on paper; this is an argument which I still stand by 100%. That Zuko would have gotten barbecued for anyone, and that he was at the stage of his arc where his royal kebab-ness represented his final act of redemption, doesn't change the fact that the animators/soundtrack artists decided to pull out all the stops with making this scene hit romantic film tropes bingo by the time it played out on screen.

(I mean, we stan.)

There's also a deeper level to this conundrum, a layer which creeps up on you when you're standing in your kitchen at night, the fridge door open in front of you, your hungry, sleep-deprived brain trying to decide on what to grab for a midnight snack, and quite inexcusably you're struck with the question: Okay, Zuko may indeed have taken the lightning for just anyone, but would Azula have shot the lightning at just anyone?

But there's yet a deeper layer to this question, that I don't recall ever seeing anyone discuss (though if somebody has, mea culpa). And that is: would you have written Zuko taking the lightning for anyone else?

Or in other words, who Zuko would have taken the lightning for is the wrong question to be asking; the question we ought to be asking is who Zuko should have taken the lightning for, instead.

Get your pens out, your Doylist hats on, and turn to page 394. It's time to think like an author for a hot minute.

(If you don't know what I mean by Watsonian vs. Doylist analyses, and/or if you need a refresher course, go have a skim of the first section of this 'ere post and then scoot your ass back to this one.)

So. You're the author. You've written almost the entirety of an animated series (look at you!!) and now you're at the climax, which you've decided is going to be an epic, hero-villain showdown. Classic. Unlike previous battles between these two characters, your hero is going to have a significant advantage in this fight - partly due to his own development as a hero at the height of his strength and moral conviction, and partly because your villain has gone through a bit of a Britney Spears 2007 fiasco, and isn't quite at the top of her game here. If things keep going at this pace, your hero is going to win the fight fairly easily - actually, maybe even too easily. That's okay though, you're a talented writer and you know just what will raise the stakes and give the audience a well-timed "oh shit" moment: you're going to have the villain suddenly switch targets and aim for somebody else. The hero will be thrown off his groove, the villain will gain the upper hand, the turns will have indubitably tabled. Villains playing dirty is the number 1 rule in every villain handbook after all, and each of the last two times your hero's braved this sort of fight he's faced an opponent who ended up fighting dishonourably, so you've got a lovely Rule of Three perfectly lined up for the taking. Impeccable. The warm glow of triumph shines upon you, cherubs sing, your English teachers clap and shed tears of pride. (Except for that one teacher you had in year 8 who hated everybody, but she's a right bitch and we're not talking about her today.)

Now here's the thing: your hero is a hero. Maybe he wasn't always a hero, but he certainly is one now. If the villain goes after an innocent third party, there's basically no-one your hero wouldn't sacrifice himself for. He's a hero! Heroes do be like that, it's kind of their thing. The villain could shoot a bolt of lightning at Bildad the Shuhite, and the only thing that'd stop our boy Redeemed Paladin Bravesoul McGee from shielding his foxy ass is the fact that Bildad the Shuhite has the audacity to exist in a totally different show (disgusten.)

But. You're holding the writer's pen. Minus crossover shenanigans you don't have the licensing or time-travel technology to achieve, you have full control over how this scene plays out. You get to decide which character to target to deliver the greatest emotional impact, the juiciest angst, the most powerful cinematic suspense. You get to decide whose life you'll put at risk, to make this scene the most intense spine-chilling heart-stopper it can possibly be.

This is the climax we're talking about, after all - now is not the time to go easy on the drama.

So.

Do you make the villain target just anyone?

Or do you make the villain target someone the hero cares about?

Perhaps, someone he cares about... a lot?

Maybe even, someone he cares about... more than anybody else?

You are the author. You are the God of this universe. You get to choose.

What would deliver the strongest punch?

If you happen to make the inadvisable decision of browsing through these tropes on TV tropes, aside from wasting the rest of your afternoon (you're welcome), you'll find that the examples listed are littered with threatened and dead love interests, and, well, there's a reason for that. For better or worse, romantic love is often portrayed by authors, and perceived by audiences, as a "true" form of love (often even, "the" true form of love). Which is responsible for the other is a chicken/egg situation, one I'm not going to go into for this post - and while I'm certainly not here to defend this perspective as objectively good, I do think it's worth acknowledging that it not only exists but is culturally rather ubiquitous. (If you're playing the love interest in a story with a hero v. a villain, you might wanna watch your back, is what I'm saying.)

Regardless of whether the vibe you're aiming for is romantic or platonic however, one thing is for certain: if you want maximum oomph, the way to achieve that is by making the villain go after the player whose death would hit the hero the hardest.

And like I said, this doesn't have to be played romantically (although it so often is). There are platonic examples in those trope pages, though it's also important to note that many of the platonic ones do show up in stories where a love interest isn't depicted/available/there's a strong "bromance" element/the hero is low-key ace - and keep in mind too that going that route sometimes runs a related risk of falling into queer-bait territory *coughJohnLockcough*

That said, if there is a canon love-interest available, one who's confessed her love for the hero, one who has since been imprisoned by the villain, one who can easily be written as being at the villain's disposal, and who could quite conveniently be whipped out for a mid-battle surprise round - you might find you have some explaining to do if you choose to wield your authorly powers to have the villain go after... idk, some other sheila instead.

(The fact that this ends up taking the hero out of the fight, and the person he sacrifices himself for subsequently throws herself into the arena risking life and limb to defeat the villain and rescue her saviour, also means the most satisfying way this plays out, narratively speaking, is if both of these characters happen to be the most important person in each other's lives - at least, as of that moment, anyway - but I think this post has gone on long enough, lol)

This is, by and large, a rebuttal post more than anything else, but the tl;dr here is - regardless of whether you want to read the scene as shippy or not, to downplay Zuko's sacrifice for Katara specifically as "not that deep™" because "Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone anyway", suggests either that a) nobody should be reading into the implications of Katara being chosen as the person nearest and dearest to Zuko, so that putting her life in jeopardy can deliver the most powerful impact possible for an audience you'd bloody well hope are on the edge of their seats during the climax of your story or b) the writers made the inexplicable decision of having the villain threaten the life of... literally who the fuck ever, and ultimately landed on someone who's actually not all that important to the hero in the grand scheme of things - which is a cardinal writing sin if I ever saw one (even disregarding the Choice to then season it with mood lighting and sad violin music, on top of it all), and altogether something I'd be legitimately pissed about if my Zuko-OTP ship paired him with Mai, Sokka, or just about anybody else 😂

Most importantly c) I'm hungry, and I want snacks.

*The Aussies in the fandom will get this one. Everyone else can suffer in united confusion.

#zutara #anti anti zutara #lightning scene ramblings #meta #long post

596 notes · View notes

enhafilthandfiction · 11 months

Text

How Enha HyungLine tell you they're in the mood

Hoon is shy to ask you for it <;/3 -----⤴

A/N : Hello everyone! I am back with another post that you guys picked from the poll. I hope you enjoy it! I am accepting emoji anons and moots!

Pairing : Bf!HyungLine X Fem!Reader

Warnings : kisses, grinding, boners, nudeness, them just being horny, mentions of porn :)

Word Count : 888 Words (about 220 words each)

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung « The shy one who kisses you more often and hugs you tighter, burying his face into your neck, because he's too shy to tell you

"Here I'll do it for you" He kneels down at your legs, tying your shoe laces for you, making you tilt your head in confusion. "...Thanks" you thank when he finishes tying your laces, looking at him with an expectant look on you face.

He smiles at you sheepishly, nodding his head awkwardly with his cheeks reddening before the just plunges at you, hugging you tightly against him and burying his face into your neck to hide his blush.

"What's the matter Hee?" you giggle "Why are you acting like this?" you ask, hugging him back. You can feel him shrug his shoulders and snuggle you tighter.

Your hand snakes up his back to caress his hair and he lets out a little moan at that. "Ohhh" you almost laugh at it, he was suddenly so sensitive.

"What do you want Hee?" you ask, smirking, knowing that he's too shy to ask for what he wants. "C'mon, don't be shy, tell mommy me" you egg on, trying to pull him off of you.

He doesn't let you, shaking his head and chuckling "Neeeed you Y/nnn" he whines in your neck suddenly having enough confidence to lightly move his hips against yours.

"Aww Hee, you could've just told me baby" you giggle when he starts kissing your neck. "C'mon, do I have to carry you to the bedroom?"

He shakes his head no, finally letting go of you only to grab your wrist and pull you to the bedroom with him.

» Park Jay « The blunt one who just asks you for it without beating around the bush

You were just cleaning the dishes and he was watching tv and you decided to join him. But as you approached the couch, he would just spread his legs wide (man spreading oml) so you'd have nowhere to sit.

You'd roll your eyes until you notice his prominent boner perfectly on display for you between his spread legs. Your mouth would water realising how hard he is for you.

"Y/n, darling, sweetie, bab-"

"okay Jay I get it, just spit it out"

"Are you in the mood? because I really need you"

"Is that supposed to be a pickup line?"

Nah, he's just blunt like that. He beckons you over, making you sit in his lap, directly on his bulge. One hand grips the back of your thigh while the other grabs you by the waist, moving you back and forth on him.

"I'll take that as I yes" he smirks, looking up at you. With you on your knees on top of him, he's face to face with your chest, puckering his lips to kiss your cleavage, making you grasp his hair.

» Sim Jake « The one who's also shy to tell you so he lets his body do all the work and hopefully you can get the message through his actions

If he's horny but shy, he'll do anything to wet his dick but he won't tell you because boy is shy. So instead, when you're literally doing anything facing away from him, he'll come brushing against you 'accidentally' just to make you feel his bulge.

And if he's a little confident he may add in "Yeah, feel how hard I am for you babe?" He'd whisper in your ear, grabbing your waist to grind your ass harder against his crotch.

He can't control himself, his hips rutting against you for some sort of relief which he badly needs. He also can't stop his lips from kissing every inch of uncovered skin he finds, giving you the goose bumps.

He places wet kisses at the back of your neck, and messy ones on your shoulders, his hand snaking between your thighs. "Need you" he whines, bucking his hips into you.

He's also the type to pull at your clothes, wishing they were already off so he could fuck you. When he pulls your shirt or your little skirt, you know he wants them off, and his growing bulge confirms that.

» Park Sunghoon « The type to do the obvious until you actually fuck him. He'd walk around naked, touch you and compliment you more than often, instead of just asking for it

"You look really good today babe" his voice startles you as you were just chilling on your phone when he suddenly walked over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "What you watching, pretty?"

You put down your phone to see that he was just in a towel, hanging dangerously low around his waist. You give him a knowing look, but decide to play dumb. "Hoon, get dressed or you'll catch a cold"

"It's okay baby, I never get cold" he assures "Ice prince remember?"

You roll your eyes and decide to go back to your phone, just to annoy him. He scoffs and reaches down to grab 'something' and his towel falls off. You can't help but shift your eyes from your phone over to his now naked figure, admiring his triangular shape.

"What's the matter darling?" he asks with a smirk on his face, totally nonchalant despite the fact that he was completely bare.

"Hoooon" you whine, getting up and making your way over to him. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist, caressing your sides. You get up on your tip toes to kiss him, and his tongue immediately invades your mouth.

"Is there something you want to tell me Hoon?" you ask, expecting the obvious answer. He just looks down and instead of getting straight to the point he's like "Wanna watch porn together?"

You deadpan, "Okay and then?" you question once more, still wanting another answer.

"And then maybe we can make our own porn" he says excitedly, watching as you smile softly.

"Hoon, you're impossible sometimes"

Hi again, thanks for reading to the bottom, I feel like this wasn't the best, and I could've written it better maybe? Anywaysss, have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333

if you enjoyed this post, you can support this blog by tipping me here! Anything is greatly appreciated :)

2K notes · View notes

captainreecejames · 2 months

Text

Wrong City - CL16 smau

in which you commit to the bit on Instagram

authors note : I hope you guys like this one! Originally it was going to be a different post every city and driver, but I didn't think that would really be enough so it became a short story on charles. Let me know if you want one on a different driver as I still have a few captions in the notes.

pairing : Charles Leclerc x FEM!reader

warnings : none

ynusername posted --------

liked by bsfinstagram, yourmominsta and others

ynusername as the french say "soo la voo" or whatever

joris_trouche and who ate that second gelato? ↳ ynusername I had both duh 🙄🙄🙄 ↳ joris_trouche and that isn't Charles favorite flavor ↳ ynusername it's obviously my second favorite

pierregasly what??? ↳ ynusername isn't that what you say? I'm confused ↳ francisca.cgomes looks right to me ↳ ynusername thank you!

username22 quick flex in italy

username14 oh to kiss Charles leclerc in front of the trevi fountain in Rome, Italy

carlossainz55 I'm telling!!! ↳ charles_leclerc booo you whore ↳ charles_leclerc yn made me type that ↳ charles_leclerc but please don't tell

yourfriend1 did you try those gelato places I sent? ↳ ynusername yes, we agree they were so good! ↳ joris_trouche we??

username12 a woman in a white dress in italy will always have me going 🤨 ↳ username36 miss yn do you have anything you want to share with the class

username29 she's chronically on tiktok like me

landonorris get this off the tl ↳ charles_leclerc just cause youre chronically single doesn't mean we need to cater to your needs ↳ ynusername get him babe!

liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton and others

ynusername when in rome 🇮🇹🤪

pierregasly don't fucking piss me off ↳ ynusername oooh someone's even more sensitive than the monagasque

francisca.cgomes you are so pretty it actually hurts me ↳ ynusername babe look in a mirror ↳ francisca.cgomes our spot in 15 ↳ ynusername see you then babe

username27 oh she's committing to the bit huh ↳ charles_leclerc you have no idea ↳ username27 CHARLES HI

username83 when will it be my turn?? 😭😭

joris_trouche was the croissant good ↳ ynusername yep and I didn't share it ↳ charles_leclerc she tripped running away from me when I asked for some ↳ ynusername i thought we weren't sharing that info ↳ charles_leclerc sorry ma cherie

oscarpiastri you let that croissant touch the wall? ↳ ysusername of course not, what do you take me for? a loser

lorenzotl hope you had a good time ↳ ynusername we did <3

liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly and others

ynusername what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

username71 can't wait for the Vegas post now

username26 okay now she's teasing us about Vegas '19 ↳ username38 LER US KNOWWWWW

arthurleclerc bestie!!! ↳ ynusername little bro!!! ↳ arthurleclerc 😑🤧

username45 she really is feeding us with boyfriend charles content ↳ username28 I know, thank you yn. 🙏🏼🙏🏼

bsfinstagram she's everything, he's just there ↳ charles_leclerc accepting my role as trophy husband ↳ bsfinstagram husband 🤨🤨 ↳ charles_leclerc you know what I mean 😑

username74 now why are Arthur and BSF being weird ↳ username90 asking the right questions cause why are they being weird 🤨

alex_albon stop kissing on the tl, there are kids here ↳ ynusername weird to use third person but to each their own ↳ alex_albon im talking about logan

liked by scuderiaferrari, lilymhe and others

ynusername you know I love a monaco boy 🇲🇨

load more comments

username82 HE LOOKS SO GOOD OMG ↳ username82 LIKE THAT POST RACE GLOW IS JUST 🧑🏼‍🍳💋 ↳ username82 WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE ↳ username82 WHY ARE YOU IN ALL WHITE MS. YN

username63 Ma'am, you simply cannot post this then disappear

charles_leclerc ma cherie 🤍 ↳ ynusername you called?

lewishamilton congrats! ↳ ynusername thank you sir lewis. ❤️❤️

sebastianvettel wishing you two all the best ↳ ynusername thanks seb, from both of us

scuderiaferrari can't wait to welcome mrs. leclerc to the paddock!

username20 that post race glow hit so hard they got married

username30 yn please tell us he didn't wear that to the chapel ↳ ynusername he looked very handsome at the chapel, don't worry ↳ username30 that somehow doesn't make me feel better. was he wearing a costume?

tomholland2013 congrats you two! ↳ zendaya i guess our invites got lost in the mail? ↳ ynusername reception soon!!

yourmominsta my beautiful girl and handsome son-in-law ↳ ynusername love you mama ↳ charles_leclerc love you maman

username93 when she goes from the g in wag to the w >>

olliebearman you look amazing yn! congrats ❤️ ↳ ynusername awww thank you ollie ❤️

maxverstappen1 congratulations, no inchidents hopefully? ↳ ynusername you just can't let it go, huh? 😭 ↳ maxverstappen1 nope, little leclercs will know this story from my point of view ↳ ysusername please slow down 😐

lilymhe party soon? ↳ ynusername yes! I need a proper bachelorette party

username29 wait this wasn't planned?? ↳ username22 girl, vegas weddings are not really ever planned ↳ username29 yeah but when did he propose to her? if they didn't even have time for the bach parties, then i don't think they thought about this at all, makes me sad. you don't get married on a whim ↳ username22 take a breath. this is not your relationship ↳ username94 also they've been together for years, so this really isn't something out of the blue. plus they've joked about getting married on twitter and insta before, so it's something they both wanted. not that any of this is really our business

bonus post

liked by ynusername, andferrari007 and others

charles_leclerc and ynusername forever

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc soc med au #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smau #My writing

714 notes · View notes

savannahsdeath · 8 months

Note

hi savannah! i love ur writing a lot!! 😭

can u write something about reader getting high with ellie and.. you know how some people get high and horny? yeah. you can add more if you want, i’m not really good at writing ideas sorry!

- 🐻

DEALER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: you leave your little party with friends in order to visit your favourite dealer..

warnings: 18+!! weed n just smut

writers note: i have another bbf!dealer!ellie idea (the one i made a poll abt) but i still didnt write it and omg idk💔i swear itll be posted soon

you already smoked, quite a lot, but you and your friends agreed that's not enough. and since ellie, the best dealer in your college, likes you the most, you proposed you'll go for more.

and so you were walking through one of the biggest buildings in the campus, as close to the wall as possible, so if anything, you won't fall in the middle of the hallway, after the curfew.

you knocked on the door to her room, messier than anyone elses. you heard her swear under her breath, but she smiled as soon as she saw it's you. she softly, but firmly, dragged you inside, before anyone could notice your strange behaviour.

"look, i won't sell you anything." she immediately annouced, sounding almost disappointed.

you frowned, looking around and swinging your arms. "why not?"

"you had some already." she pointed at you, your red eyes and widened pupils. "plus, i don't trust your friends. i won't take any risks."

you smirked and playfully nudged her. "come on, i bet i'm the most responsible client you've ever had."

"maybe the prettiest one, but you're far from responsible." she shook her head with a shrug. "none of you knows when to stop."

you looked down, biting the inside of your cheek in thought, before catching her gaze again. "but you know. maybe you could-"

"no way." she cut you off with a chuckle.

you sighed and, without asking, sat on her couch, tapping your nails on your thighs, trying to come up with something.

she was visibly surprised by you - not only your visit, but the fact you still didn't leave. she said no, what else was there to talk about?

"look, you gotta give me a small amount, i'll take anything, i don't care." you replied, desperate.

you knew there's no convincing her, and you already felt the itch of a need you could barely suppress. she stared right through you, amused. your eyes already dilated. your hands shaking. the smell of her stash maddening.

you looked back at her and you knew that she was about to let you have it. but not because you asked. she was going to enjoy this.

"what if.. i'll give you one more." she smiled, rummaging through her drawers. "but you'll share it with me, not with them."

you pouted, raising your hands in confusion. "what do you mean?"

she held out a joint for you, but she moved it away as soon as you reached for it. "i mean, someone has to keep an eye on you. and i know how to, you said it yourself."

"but-"

you sighed and agreed. why not? no matter how she puts it, you knew you're going to enjoy her company, and she does have that good stuff.

"whatever you say, ellie." you replied, still pouty that you had to now share your hit. but you knew she's right, plus, you'd have to share it with all your friends otherwise.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

your head was spinning and you were breathing harder. she laughed again as you coughed a little. her hand rested on your thigh, the couch you were sitting on surrounded by dirty clothes.

"feels good." you whispered.

you had weed in mind, but you realised it sounded like you were talking about her touch too late, after these words already escaped your mouth.

she looked at you with a smirk. "feeling good, huh?" her hand ran up your thigh a little more.

your mind was blown and you were way too high to figure out what to do. if that was her plan all along, it was working out perfectly.

you wanted more.

your head was clouded. you were giggling, giggling at yourself, giggling at the world. everything felt so funny and wonderful at once.

you wanted more.

you looked up at ellie and your eyes grow wide as you stared at her. she stared back at you for a few moments. you've never seen her like this.

no, that's not true. you've never felt her like this.

ellie smiled and moved a little closer to you. you could feel her presence and that's all there was.

you took another hit from the joint. and ellie was there to hold it as you did so.

you could feel her lips brush gently against your ear. you weren't sure what she was whispering. you just focused on how her hot breath tingled your neck.

she smiled. she knew exactly what's going to happen next, and she liked the fact that you could barely form any coherent thoughts, even though she wasn't much better, not at this point.

she took the joint from your lips as she looked up at you and smiled, not saying anything. she didn't need to.

she held the joint up and took a long, slow drag as you watched. sometning about it, about how the smoke drifted away when she exhaled, was just so attractive, you instinctively licked your lips. you focused on her soft breaths, making yours synchronize with hers, what helped you stay conscious.

she moved closer and you closed your eyes. you could feel her hair against your face, smell the scent of her hair.

as you opened your eyes, you realised that the world was spinning, and you and ellie were now on her bed. she had her mouth pressed up to yours.

you didn't know how long it's been going on for. maybe you just didn't care. but it felt good.

you gasped, right into her lips, as you noticed one of her hands is beneath your cotton panties. you didn't remember how it happened, but you were glad it got there. it moved synchronously to the rest of her body, but you figured out it was there just to test the waters as she started going down on you with her mouth without actually working with her fingers.

"you're even prettier when stoned." you giggled, not sure if you formed the sentence correctly, but basing on ellie's smile in response - it was understandable.

her tongue laid flat on the wet spot on your cotton underwear, making you realise your pants are on the floor. god, when did all of this happen? you didn't know there's a 'skip' button in real life, but at least you managed to come to your sense in the best moment possible.

"awh- do i really make you feel this way?" she chuckled against your clothed pussy. "i start to doubt you came here just because 'your friends picked you'.."

you hummed, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. "you called me your prettiest client."

"and i don't take that back." she traced the hem of your panties, before sliding her fingers slightly down and caressing the outlines of your slit, barely visible through the soaked fabric. "mmh.. why does it matter now?"

"i'm just telling you- god." your hips uncontrollably raised, pressing against her hand. "just telling you, you shouldn't be surprised by this," you pointed at the surroundings of your lower stomach with your chin, "if you say things like that."

she finally, slowly took your underwear off, humming a little; "mhm". you weren't sure if it was supposed to be an answer for you, or an act of satisfaction at the view, but either one was fine.

she kissed your clit, pressing her tongue followed by her lips against it. the little touch had you moan, feeling a weird feeling of electricity starting from your core travel around your whole body. you didn't know if it was really that magic, or did the weed made you feel so much details.

she repeated this move a few times, each earning a moan or two from you. the knot you had in your head while trying to think of a way to make her sell you some more of her stuff was now in your stomach, loosening with every lick of her, now flattened, tongue. you tugged on the little bun she always had, pulling her closer to you with every small energy boost you got from time to time. you heard the sounds of your juices flow out, right to her mouth.

you squirmed under the bruising grip she had on your thighs, sometimes moving it to your lower stomach to gently press on it. when she did, you could see a spot in the shape of her hand, way lighter than the rest of your body, on the place she just left.

her eyes would sometimes look up at you, looking extremely innocent, what seemed weird compared to how her tongue fucked in and out of you.

ding!

you thought you heard sometning, but you quickly forgot about it, focusing back on ellie.

ding!

now, you were sure you heard something, but still didn't know what.

ding!

you saw your phone, laying on the floor near your pants, light up. your friends were spamming you, but your vision was all blurry and you didn't see anything. before the screen turned off again, you managed to notice one notification;

luccyy💞: idk about you, but for me, buying weed takes less than one hour

1K notes · View notes

ellemj · 3 months

Text

Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 4

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Read parts 1-3 first if you haven't!

Summary: The somewhat hostile dynamic between you and Bucky shifts the morning after a questionable chain of events. The tension between you seems to be mostly resolved...until it isn't.

Warnings: profanity, teasing, alcohol consumption, mentions of previous smut, gunshot wounds, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: It took me too long to write this and I don't love it, but it'll do. My mind has been all over the place lately and I have a hundred different things going on irl. Side note for anyone who reads my A/Ns, I kinda wanna post a pic of me in a slutty little dress next week for absolutely no reason. That questionable decision is still under advisement.

Bucky wakes up to an ache in his side and the feeling of a wet sheet stuck against his bare abdomen. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes fully to know it’s his wounds from last night, bleeding through the bandages you’d fashioned for him. He heals quickly, but deeper wounds take a little more time. Only a couple of minutes later, Bucky is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, pressing a wet cloth to the exit wound on his lower left side. The bandage you put on his lower left back is still intact and fine, but the one in front just didn’t cut it.

Fuck, I’m cumming. Those three little words in your soft, breathy voice suddenly come to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. That’s the final thing he heard last night before he fell asleep. It all comes flooding back to him. The charged banter in the kitchen, the teasing, locking yourselves in your separate bedrooms for the night and then getting yourselves off. He remembers your moans and whimpers carrying through the walls, straight to his ears. What the hell were you the two of you thinking? You weren’t thinking, and Bucky sure as hell wasn’t thinking.

He glances down and peels the wet cloth away from his skin but sees a fresh stream of blood threatening to spill from the wound and drip into the waistband of his sweats, so he quickly presses it to his skin again and braces his free hand against the edge of the bathroom sink. He’s so lost in thought about last night that he doesn’t even notice your bedroom door opening a few feet down the hall and you shuffling out in your oversized t-shirt.

“Are you bleeding again?” Your raspy morning voice has an almost uncharacteristic meekness to it, and Bucky freezes at the sound of it. His gaze flits to the side and he sees you through the open bathroom door, standing a few feet down the hall, staring at him. Your hair is messy and your faded blue shirt looks like it could be fifteen years old, but your appearance and your soft tone send a bit of blush to his cheeks.

“It’s fine, it’s not bad.” He says flatly, watching as your eyes float down his bare torso and land on the red-tinged cloth he’s holding against his abs. You don’t listen to a word he says, and instead quickly begin walking toward him. You can tell it really isn’t all that bad as you place your palm over his hand and force him to pull the cloth away. It’s a steady bleed but it’s by no means a major hemorrhage.

“Are you going to let me fix it?” You ask, letting go of his hand and letting him press the cloth back to the wound. You stand between him and the bathroom vanity now, looking up at him with a raised brow. Bucky doesn’t really understand the difference in the dynamic of last night versus the dynamic of this morning. You were up in arms all yesterday evening after the incident at the club, and then the entire drive back to the apartment and even in the kitchen you were pissy with him. Is one self-serving orgasm all it takes to completely turn your mood around? Is that why you’re almost being nice this morning? Bucky’s confusion is evident on his face, but you continue to wait for his answer.

“You’re asking this time?”

“If you want to bleed out on the bathroom floor I won’t interfere, but try not to stain the rugs.” You say, rolling your eyes at his stubbornness. Bucky gauges the situation. You’re in a better mood than yesterday, it almost seems like you’ve forgotten the disaster that was last night’s mission. He isn’t going to ruin that and end up with you driving him mad for the rest of the day.

A few moments later, Bucky is sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you sit on your knees between his feet, using a special kind of quick-clotting gauze to fashion a new bandage for his wound. The atmosphere around the two of you doesn’t feel so electrically charged this time, there isn’t an undeniable tension threatening to snap with a single word or touch. Bucky peers down at you with a cloudy gaze as you carefully size the gauze and place it where it needs to be. He can’t help but wonder for a moment how the two of you went from sharing takeout and beer on his couch to being at each other’s throats yesterday. He thinks back to the night he invited you in, the night he said that you and Vision should switch apartments. He liked you that night. After your second beer, you talked to him like you hadn’t lived across the hall from each other for 6 months and simply been acquaintances all of that time. He never would have thought he’d end up taking a bullet for you within the first two days of sharing a place.

The sound of a key sliding into the apartment door catches the attention of you both, and your hands falter against Bucky’s lower abdomen as you look up at him with questioning eyes. Does Vision still have a key?

“Bucky, I swear to god if you laid up in this apartment and bled to death last night—” Sam stops short when the apartment door swings shut behind him and his eyes land on the two of you. He can see straight down the short hallway, through the open bathroom door, to where you sit between Bucky’s feet on the floor, still facing his torso. “Shit, I should’ve knocked.”

“Why the hell do you have a key to my apartment?” Bucky asks gruffly, lifting one hand from the edge of the bathtub and running it through his hair. It takes Sam two more seconds to figure out that it’s you on the floor, and that you’re not doing Bucky the kind of favor you appear to be doing him.

“Why the hell are the two of you half-dressed, sitting in there like that?” Sam’s question reminds you that you’re not wearing any pants. You let out a soft sigh before continuing your work on Bucky’s wound, placing the last piece of medical tape firmly against his skin to secure the three layers of gauze you so neatly arranged. “Wait, did you sleep here last night?” Sam asks with an obvious hint of amusement in his tone. Bucky narrows his eyes at the man and notices the playful smile taking over his features across the apartment.

“Why are you here, Sam?” Bucky responds with his own question. Placing your hands on Bucky’s knees, you push yourself up to a standing position and step away from him. For the quickest moment, he's staring right at the line where your t-shirt ends and your thighs begin, but then you’re gone, moving to the sink to wash your hands, and he’s left staring at Sam.

“I texted you three times last night and you didn’t answer me once. It’s sort of basic human decency to respond to texts after you’ve been shot.” Sam points out. He walks further into the apartment and turns in the direction of the kitchen. You shoot Bucky a look over your shoulder as you dry your hands on a towel. It’s a look that says are we not telling Sam I moved in here? Bucky understands it instantly and returns it with his own look that says I don’t know what to tell him. So, neither of you say anything about it.

You head back to your own room to find some pants while Bucky heads to the kitchen to see what Sam’s on about.

“It’s making more sense now.” Sam chuckles, just as Bucky rounds the corner of the hall and comes into his view. Sam pulls the fridge open and starts rummaging through its limited contents, searching for any semblance of breakfast food. Bucky leans his back against the nearest edge of the kitchen counter and listens to the soft fabric sounds down the hall as you search for a pair of sweats to pull on.

“What is?”

“You two being at each other’s throats last night. It didn’t make sense to me then but it makes sense now.” Sam has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he closes the fridge and turns around to face Bucky.

“How so?” Bucky really shouldn’t be egging him on, but here he is.

“You’re into each other.” Sam says assuredly. Bucky scoffs, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his still bare chest. “She slept over last night, didn’t she? Did you two take your heated differences straight to the bedroom after I dropped you both off here?”

“I slept in my own bed last night.” You interject. You’re tying the drawstrings on a pair of joggers as you step into the kitchen and shoot both of the men passing glances. Your claim may be blurring the truth in the slightest way, but it’s not a lie. Sam looks between the two of you with narrowed eyes and disbelief written all over his face.

“Fine. I’ll give it a rest.” Sam concedes, holding his hands up. He steps toward the middle of the kitchen and plants his hands on the surface of the island while you begin filling a small glass with water. Bucky’s eyes are heavy on you. He’s watching you closely, and you can tell, though your back is to him.

One orgasm. One orgasm is all it took to turn you back into the girl you were when he found you standing outside of his door with a bag of takeout and an offer to share with him. He doesn’t even tune into what you and Sam begin conversing about. He’s stuck in his head, thinking about how you went from becoming his roommate, to becoming his enemy, to patching him up, and then to getting yourself off at the end of it all. He thinks if he dwells on the chain of events too long, he may end up with whiplash.

—

You lie on your back on the living room floor with the backs of your thighs against the front side of the couch and your lower legs resting atop the seat cushion. You’re two and a half beers in and feeling buzzed, listening to good music and drowning in your own thoughts when you hear the apartment door handle turning.

Bucky had been out with Sam all day after he stopped by this morning. They were doing a bit of recon on Elias Leveaux. It was something you should’ve been a part of, and Sam had indeed asked you to ride over to SHIELD headquarters with them and spend the day working on it, but you politely declined.

“After last night, I think I deserve a day off.” You had said. “I would’ve nailed him last night if someone hadn’t interfered.” You were obviously referring to Bucky.

“I’m sure you would have.” Bucky grumbled back. You knew exactly what he was implying, yet your only response was a roll of your eyes in his direction and a friendly goodbye to Sam before they left.

You turn your head to the side and watch as the door swings open and Bucky steps inside, immediately looking to his right and taking in the sight of you half on the floor and half on the couch, with a couple of empty bottles and a few unopened ones scattered around your body. The first thing you notice when you meet his gaze is how tense he looks. You can see the beginnings of dark circles forming under his eyes, the way the muscles in his neck and jaw look taut, the unreadable look on his face. You’re sure he planned to come in, shower, and go straight to bed, even though it’s barely past eight at night. You’re so sure he had no intention of engaging with you, especially after last night. After the heated exchange in the kitchen and the following mutual masturbation through the walls of the apartment he probably wanted nothing more than to pretend you don’t exist. Letting you patch him up again this morning was likely just a lapse in judgment, or maybe he’d forgotten about last night entirely. For a second, you get the horrifying feeling that your moans and sensual sounds might’ve actually been forgettable for him. Wait, why does that possibility bother you?

As you lie on your shared living room floor, still staring at Bucky as you overthink, he starts tugging off his leather jacket.

“Drink with me.” You say softly, nudging one of the unopened bottles of beer across the floor with your index finger. Bucky drops his jacket on the arm of the couch nearest to him and weighs his options. He can hear a hot shower calling his name, but the way you’re looking at him is tugging at him a little more than it should. You smile to yourself when he narrows his eyes at you, yet sinks into the far seat of the couch and reaches down to the floor, accepting the beer you pushed in his direction. “Did you guys find anything good today?” You ask, returning your gaze back to the ceiling above.

“Nothing you don’t already know.” Bucky pops the cap of the beer with ease and raises the bottle to his lips, taking one long sip.

“But you were out there for almost twelve hours.” You say incredulously, giving him a questioning side-eye. Bucky raises a brow at you and cocks his head to one side.

“You were counting?”

“Counting every hour of pure, rejuvenating quiet time I got today.” You retort.

“Oh? After what I heard last night, I was sure that quiet wasn’t really your thing.” The words leave Bucky’s mouth and they come as a shock to him as much as they do to you. He’d like to blame the beer for his slip of the tongue, but only being one sip in and having the metabolism that he does renders the excuse unusable.

“If you want to talk about that, can we also talk about your volume? I heard you loud and clear, soldier.” With your heavenly sounds from last night replaying in his mind, Bucky begins to notice the way the front of his pants are starting to have a little less room than usual. He takes another sip of his beer and lifts his gaze from where you are on the floor to look out the windows making up the wall to your left. Ignore it, he thinks to himself.

“You started it.” He grumbles, his words sounding a bit like those of a child. You laugh to yourself as you tug your legs down from the couch and move to sit upright on the floor.

“But we both finished it, didn’t we?” When you look into each other’s eyes this time, you’re definitely feeling the effects of the drinks you downed before he made it back home. You’re thinking about him wrapping his hand around the shaft of his hard cock, working up and down the length of it while he lies in his bed and listens to you through the walls. You’re lost in thought, as evidenced by the look on your face, and Bucky narrows his eyes at you.

“Is that why you seemed so normal this morning?” The question comes tumbling out before he can second-guess himself and stop his tongue from forming the words. “Because you…finished?” He chooses to go with your safe choice of words.

“I seemed normal this morning?” You raise a brow at him. He runs a hand through his messy hair and holds his beer atop his knee with the other hand.

“You weren’t pissed like you were yesterday.” He’s watching you carefully, studying the way your expression softens and your eyes roll away from him, toward the ceiling again.

“I guess an orgasm does that to a girl.”

As the two of you continue drinking in the unexpectedly comfortable silence, you find yourself wondering if last night’s orgasm did him as much good as it did you. You woke up feeling refreshed and at ease, even though, just as Bucky said, you were pissed yesterday. It was the perfect solution to your anger. Just by listening to Bucky and touching yourself you were able to lull yourself into a nice sleep and your bad mood had seemingly dissipated by sunrise this morning.

“Maybe you should do that more often.” Bucky says under his breath. Though he doesn’t know why he decided to say it, he didn’t feel like holding the words back. He watches you with the most nonchalant gaze as your lips part and your eyes begin to search his. He shouldn’t have said it, he knows that. But it’s just like when he said maybe you and Vision should switch rooms. He sits down and drinks with you and somehow, his inhibitions melt away and he says shit that he shouldn’t say. He watches as your bewildered expression turns into a more adjusted, thoughtful expression. You push yourself up off of the floor, coming to stand on your bare feet as you continue looking into his steely blue eyes.

“On my own?” Now Bucky’s the bewildered one. He does a good job of masking it as he sips on his beer, but you know you’ve gotten to him with just three little words. You smirk at him before turning on your heel and bending over to gather your empty bottles from the floor. You don’t even think about the view you’re giving him. You have no idea that the combination of your insinuating question and your current stance in front of him have his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, squeezing his eyes shut for a second until he hears the clang of the last beer bottle being gathered into your arms. He looks back at you just as you’re turning around to face him once more.

Fuck it. Bucky shrugs his shoulders and you shoot him a quizzical look, frozen in place a foot to his right, with all of those bottles in your grasp. You follow every move he makes as he rises from the couch and downs the last sip of his beer, keeping his eyes trained on yours. His stare is hard and penetrating, feeling as if it’s going right through you.

“Did I say on your own?”

TAG LIST (FULL):

@spngingerbread21 @sadeyes61 @edelweissbarnes @mayamacall @imemeriebarnes @ladyvenera @buckbuckybuckaroo @urlocalpillowprincess @sagebarness @mrs-marc-spector @srlover40 @valhalla-kristin @phoenixstark1708 @samfreakingwinchester @ordelixxx @hellfirebabe @dashis-posts @literaryavenger @ahlookatallthelonelypeople @fandomsfeminismandme @buckysbaby-dolll @lissame @armystay89 @its-daydreamer23 @ziawbarnes @winterslove1917 @wintermischief @mondaycomingdown @yujyujjj @blackrigel @scoonsalicious @violetwinterwidow01 @frombkjar @wheelsupkels @bubblevicioussss @mikisworls @itvy5601 @dawnissunnysideup @obsessed-oops @coffeeshub @barnesxstan @regics @happyglitterturtle @whiminiferous @sebas-ass @mistressmkay @pedrosprincess @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @j23r23 @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #mcu #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier

474 notes · View notes