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#i am quite happy to get suggestions on better ones!

nunalastor · 12 hours

Note

I'm the one who made Alastor whump ideas earlier and I saw that not many liked it probably cause I didn't seem to be an actual fan with how I wanted to see him suffer... Haha...

But let me just clarify something, most of these ideas were things I read in other fics and I absolutely want him not to suffer. I just find the whump interesting cause a lot of people think he would react differently with different coping mechanisms. Would he cry? Stop smiling? Hurt himself? Blame himself? Or would he actually become a better person? Would heaven take pity on him?

Yes, I may not me the best fan, but I am still one. So as an apology, I present different ways Alastor can get happier:

-Getting into an actual, healthy relationship where they mutually love eachother and banter while trusting eachother. (Serial Roommates Im looking at you.)

-Seeing his mother and actually connecting with her (She remembered him through motherly love)

-All the hotel accepting him for who he is (a cannibal sadist who enjoys seeing others suffer)

-Him deciding to help the hotel genuinely (Self explanatory)

-Lucifer and him having healthy banter where they connect through dad jokes (giving me diabetes)

-Him trusting the hotel enough to open up and they help him through his problems and allow him to keep opening up

-Everyone respecting his boundaries (I think they already do this but I just had to put it out there)

-Vox putting his obsession aside to genuinely try become friends with Alastor (Unlikely but I really hope this happens)

-Adam apologising for hurting him (genuine apology, not fake)

-A universe where he doesn't have to force himself to smile most of the time

-He accepts the fact that he's becoming a part of the hotel and actually beginning to like them

-He let's Husk go from the leash (both benefitting and not)

-People he's saved or helped when he was alive and/or dead just all get together to thank him (Serial roommates im looking at you)

-Everyone just caring and not pitying him

-He and Angel becoming friends and having conversation without sexual innuendos (No hate to Angel I love him)

-Just a hug from the people he trusts

Let me be frank and clear here, I am an Alastor fan and yes I may have been quite vague in the earlier ask but I am someone who also enjoys to see Alastor succeed. What you just saw was one of the many sides a human being has. I can be someone who wishes for suffering and happiness. Just because I am anonymous does not take away the fact that I am a human and I can also feel emotions. Please do not hate on me for the fact that I was just saying things that I had seen from other fanfics. I love Alastor with all my heart and I also really love Alastor fluff, please do not make me seem so 2D that I hate characters I actually love.

Any other suggestions are accepted.

👀

#hazbin hotel #alastor #nunalastor asks

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4ngel-inc · 1 month

Text

࿔*:･ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 ࿐

tags — [ MDNI / 18+ ], fem reader, a little angsty but all with happy endings, fluff but suggestive & some dirty talk !! ᰔ

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 feels a knife in his chest when he sees you hugging someone else—he knows the two of you have only been dating a short time, but in his mind, you're the one. he wants you forever, but now you've gone and fallen for someone else. he immediately contemplates killing the other person, but he decides against it—that was his past self, he's changed now. it takes a lot for him to be completely vulnerable around you at first, so it's difficult expressing that he's jealous. "bella, are you still happy with me?" he hates the slight quiver in his voice, but he needs to know. "huh? 'f course i am, osamu, why'd you ask me that?" you pull him in for a soft kiss, just lips touching gently, before pulling away, "something bothering you?" before he can even bring up the other guy, he realizes how silly he's been, shaking himself out of his own self-loathing—"ah, nothing, just wanted to make sure. wanna go out for a coffee or something? you look so pretty today, i'm sure i'm not the only one who noticed. i want to show you off, angel." you roll your eyes, so that's it. "you think someone else thinks i'm pretty?" there's a long pause, but you know what he's thinking, "babe, he's just a friend. you're my everything, y'know that, right?" he sighs, pulling you into his lap, "you figured me out, huh? i can never hide around you, why is that?" he seems to be asking himself rather than you, but you answer anyways, "because i love you, and you love me—our hearts are tied together, i always know what you're thinking, like now," you reach down to stroke him through his pants, pleased to find him already hard, "why don't i remind you how much i love you, huh?"

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 tries to look away when he sees you talking to another guy at a party the mafia is having, disgusted by the way the man smiles at you so slyly, clearly interested in you—but you've always been so adorably oblivious to how other people look at you with such admiration and lust, completely unaware of your own beauty. he's used to others flirting with you, but what is surprising is that you seem to be quite interested in the conversation, despite the way the man is slowly moving closer to you with each passing second. are you into him? no, you couldn't be—chuuya is your everything, you've told him as much many times, and though he's never been one to surrender to insecurity, after working for the mafia for so many years, he doesn't really trust anyone except you. it isn't long before he's approaching you, and though he wants to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in, he hesitates. "everything alright?" "oh, chuuya! yes, everything's great. [name] here was just telling me about his most recent mission, it's quite fascinating." when he gets a bit closer, chuuya realizes he recognizes the man, and gently tugs on your arm, "come on, love, let's go." you're a little surprised but follow him anyways, waving goodbye to your new acquaintance. "chuuya? what's wrong?" your heels click on the floor quickly before chuuya presses your back into a hidden corner of the room, kissing you deeply and passionately. you're breathless when he pulls away, "that guy's a scumbag, you deserve better." you're utterly confused at his words—you've always been chuuya's—but your thoughts escape you when his lips are on yours again, and you choose not to question it, gently tugging at his belt before suggesting the two of you retire to your room for the evening. "i'm not sure what's bothering you, but i'll fix it, babe."

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 hates himself for it, but he's a little jealous when you rave about your new favorite anime character. he's your background on your phone and the inspiration for a few plushies on your bed, and though he doesn't feel threatened, he wishes your attention was on him instead. the last thing he wants is to be controlling—it just isn't in his nature—he loves that you have hobbies you enjoy so much! but you've been distracted lately, and he's been missing your sweet kisses and cuddles. he never thought he'd find himself growing so soft, he has such a weakness for you that makes him nervous, but he's been so busy and stressed about work lately—your pretty eyes locked with his as you snuggle up against him, looking up at him and running your hand through his hair with all the love in the world in your eyes, would be a salve to all of his worries. it isn't really a decision when he brings it up, it just comes out one day, "would you be open to me watching this show with you? i'd like to be a part of this new interest of yours, since it makes you. . . so happy." you easily detect the discouraged tone in his voice, and click the tv off. "c'mere, ryu, what's wrong?" "nothing," he states matter-of-factly, but you understand the implication behind his tone—he's been lonely. "why don't we spend the day together?" you run your fingers through his hair, "your hair's a little messy, want me to cut it for you? i'll make you dinner, too, what are you in the mood for?" his heart swells at your offer, "i'd really enjoy that, i've missed you lately. i've been working too much, but i'm glad you've been keeping busy."

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 always thought you were his—from the moment you told him you'd be his girlfriend, you were his greatest treasure, he told himself he'd never do anything to lose you. but when he sees you laughing and twirling your hair with a new guy, he can only assume that's the case. he must have done something wrong—worked too much, didn't tell you you're pretty enough, something. it seems like you're having fun with this new person—sigma tells himself he never made you smile that way, doesn't make you laugh as hard, and he's ashamed of that. when you two crawl into bed later that night, you notice sigma doesn't seem as cuddly or affectionate as usual. "baby? something wrong?" he frowns, but shakes his head 'no' anyways. "i'm fine, just tired." you aren't buying it, and when he wraps the blanket around himself, his body laid on the edge of the bed, as far away from you as possible, you need to know—he's your sweetest love, you can't bear the thought of him suffering. you sit up and flick on the light, "baby, please talk to me. did i do something?" he sighs, but eventually decides to open up to you, and you're happy to tell him your "new guy" is only a friend—sigma is the one you really want, and truthfully, he's a little embarrassed he thought otherwise. "i'm sorry, love, i guess i'm just insecure." you brush your fingers over his cheek, "you're not insecure, sweetie, you just love me—and i love you, just as much. i'm never letting you go, you're everything i've ever wanted." he smiles and finally snuggles into you, "thank you for loving me, i don't deserve you."

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #akutagawa x reader #sigma x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #bsd smut #bsd headcanons #osamu dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai smut #chuuya smut #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs

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d3vilcvntz · 3 months

Note

PLSS WRITE MORE LEON 🙏🙏 that’s all im requesting but if you could make something rough w/older leon and younger reader??

leon s kennedy x top male reader

a/n : reader is around 24 and leon is 34 (10 years age gap). leon is afab again (obsessed with afab leon mb), reader's gender isn't really specified but written to have a dick

you've always looked up to him, he's the reason why you wanted to became a cop in the first place. something about him, attracts you. thankfully, your parents is quite powerful so you got yourself in the same place as him. working with him is your dream ever since he saved you when you were a teen. he might not remember you, but he's been on your mind since then

you were lucky enough to finally get him as your partner later on. all the sweat and tears were all worth it because now you're finally assigned together. actually working by his side feels so unreal for you. after months of being together and you basically flirting with him all the time, it finally happened.

you both were drunk and one thing lead to others. you confessed to him and he accepted, though he did hesitate at first because of your age gaps but still, it very much surprised you that he actually have feelings for you since you entered the agency but never really have the courage to say it to your face. he never really have time for relationships as he was always busy with works, but you were glad that he's willing to be in one with you.

it's your anniversary today, it has been 2 years since you've been together with him and everything went smooth. though, you did ended up arguing with him a few days ago.

it was over some stupid stuff. he keep saying things about how being with someone's old like him isn't really ideal and you should find someone your age. he even suggested for you to see other people that will suit you better, which breaks your heart a little because how can he suggested something like that when he knows that you love him very much :( don't he understand that you only wanted him and he's the only one that's perfect for you ?

but, you do understand his worries, he think too much about what others said. 10 years is a lot to others, but to you? you don't really care, he can be 50 and you'll still love him nonetheless.

and tonight, is the time you'll show him, how much you love him.

you prepared the room with flower petals on the floor, lightly scented candle on top of the bedside table, and a towel laid in the middle of the bed. now you're just waiting for him to come home, sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with your phone

he came home a few minutes later, with flowers in his hands, surprised by your preparations, he gave you a big smile "happy anniversary" he said, passing you the flowers "i..apologise for what i said before. i wasn't thinking right and i know that i hurt your feelings that time" he said, putting his hand on your face "it's okay, i am not mad about it anymore. it's our anniversary, so let's enjoy it to the fullest" you responded, putting your hand on top of his

the flowers he gave you are truly beautiful, but not as beautiful as him, laying on the bed. legs spread, face flushed. you specifically told him to wear a special made lingerie for him. it suits him perfectly, the white laces looks really good on him.

pushing the panties aside to take a look at his pretty pussy. playing with his clit and spreading his hole. it's so wet that you're sure you don't even need the lube. blowing air on it to make him shivered. "hurry" he demanded. he's so cute when he act like this , but you can't give in tonight. you thought of something that you've always wanted to try. suddenly raising your hand and

plap !

the sounds of his wet pussy meets your hand. his eyes were wide, mouth opened, feeling shocked of your sudden moves. you didn't say anything though, just flashed him your usual smile

plap !

"w-wait! stop" he said, trying to push your hands away "hmm you sure? looks like you're enjoying this" you teased him again, putting your fingers in his hole, your fingers sliding in so easily from how wet he is. sweet moans leaving his pretty lips. as he was enjoying it, you pulled your fingers out, which caught him off guard. as he was about to say something, you raise your hand again

plap !

you spank his pussy again "what...? what was that for?" he asked, confused and aroused at the same time. face flushed from embarrassment, he never felt like this before. he had no idea why you're doing this all of the sudden, like you're treating him more rougher than you ever did before. he's not used to this but, he doesn't hate it ♡

you didn't answer, instead, you land another spank on his pussy making him shuddered. he tried to struggle to get away from you but your grip is just too strong !

plap !

again

plap !

and again

plap !

as you spanked his pussy for the last time, he squirted all over your palm. you were shocked to see how he became just from being spanked on his pussy, guess he's really enjoying this.

tears are forming in his eyes, looking up at you. you just flashed him a smile before sitting right above his face, pulling out your dick from your underwear.

"suck" you told him. he was hesitant but did as he told. as he was going down on you, you pushed his head, forcing your cock to the back of his throat.

he was struggling to breath, hands gripping your thighs. you pull out, just to push it all in again. you were using him like a toy.

it felt too good for him, the way your cock reaches all the way to the back of his throat made his mind all blank, all he can think of is your cock ♡ the more you thrusts, the more he feels like he couldn't breath but, don't ever stop, because he's very much enjoying this.

you came deep inside his throat, making him swallowed it all. he knew that you weren't done with him as you grabbed the lube that you specifically put on the bedside and pour it all over your hand. "let's try something new" you said, moving his hair out of his face

before he even had the time to respond to what you just said, you push a finger in his asshole, the excessive amounts of lube making it quite easy to slide in. "feels weird" he whimpered, you shush him, playing with his clit to distract him from this unfamiliar feelings. slowly, you keep adding fingers until you feel like he's stretched enough

you positioned your dick right in his asshole. "w-wait" you slowly pushed your dick inside him, stretching him out. he's still quite tight despite all the stretching you did earlier. his hands gripping the sheets. you kiss him and played with his clit to ease him.

you finally pushed your cock all in, his pussy's juice dripping all over your hand. you started thrusting slowly but becoming rougher and faster as he eventually get used to it

you fingered his pussy as you thrust your dick inside of his asshole. his moans filling up the room "im close" he said, hands gripping your shoulders

you pushed his legs further to his chest, thrusting your dick deep inside him. your thrusts becaming sloppier now that you're close. you came inside him after a few more thrusts and he squirted all over himself right after. he's so easy to squirt <3 you're glad that you laid the towel down on the bed before or you'll have to do extra cleaning later on.

you pulled out and laid beside him, his head on your chest

"what was that all about ?"

he asked, his fingers drawing circle on your chest

"proving my love to you"

#sub character #top reader #top male reader #d3vilcvntz's works #leon x male reader #sub leon kennedy #anonasks

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wannabelife · 18 days

Note

27 kisses on mingyu’s 27th birthday and the last one would be on his cock

to all the beautiful things in this world, waking up next to you is one of mingyu's favorite. but waking up next to you on his birthday is even more perfect. he's still half asleep when you press yourself to him, laying on his chest.

warnings: suggestive, smut content, slightly teasing, MDNI

"happiest happy birthday, gyu!" you say with a big smile decoring your lips "what are your wishes for today, birthday boy?" you ask playfully as you caress his messy morning hair.

"good morning" he says it first, still getting his mind to reality after his sleep. you giggle, whispering hi back to him. he smiles, suddenly mirroring your face when he's awake "right now, my wish is a morning kiss, ma'am" he says.

"that's a easy one" you play back "is just one enough? it should be at least 27, don't you think?" you state and he laughs.

he hugs your waist, pushing you up to his body layed on the mattress "wow! my geenie has 27 wish chances, how lucky am i, hm?" he says.

"gonna take all your wishes in kisses? quite a responsibility, i should make it worth it" you reply.

he hums, shaking his head to you as you lean to leave a peck to his lips "that's one" you say.

you suck his lower lip, biting the flesh right after before giving him a proper kiss this time "that's two" you state and he hums. you dive right back in, heating the kiss as it gets more intense "third" you say, looking back at him.

"it's getting better" he presses

"is it? dont get too abused, sir" you challenges, leaving pecks around his face for next kisses, one on each cheek, on his forehead, and on the tip of his nose. when you're done teasing him, you get back to his lips, your mouths meeting in an intense messy kiss as you set a french kiss.

your hands dig under his shirt as you caress the bare skin of his sides and toned abs. he pushes your hair back, sliding his hands under the nap of your neck "tenth should make justice to his place, shouldn't it?" he whispers close to your lips, before diving right back in.

you dig your nails to his belly skin, and he hums on your lips, opening space for you to slide your tongue to his. the kiss gets wet and sloppy as you both whimper, just leaving to catch a breath.

you trail down, kissing the line of his adam's apple as its bobs with your motion. you move to his neck, leaving open mouth kisses there, occasionally biting his skin.

you push his shirt up, getting your hands to his nipples and he cant help a moan. you keep trailing down, kissing your way to his member, feeling his clothed cock pressing to your breast, getting on its hard state. you leave the 26th kiss right above the skin not covered by his boxers.

he looks down at you, his chest heaving, his full attention on your next moves. you play with the hem of his panties, pressing a long kiss to his covered cock head. he moans out loud as he cock twitches, in need of more.

"that was the last one, what a shame, babe" you tease, as he grunts. his hands grabbing your hair as he demands you to open up and you know you will. just the thought of freeing his cock as it will hit his belly makes your pussy throb, you cant wait to wrap your mouth around it.

#wannabelife inbox #mingyu #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt ff #seventeen fanfic #svt scenarios #svt smut #yn #mingyu fic #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut

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back2bluesidex · 5 months

Text

J-Hope Fic Recommendations (18+)

If you are already following me for quite some time then you should know that I am a massive masochist and I like to torture myself by reading and writing angsty stories. So, most of the stories that I recommended are angsty as well (might as well have sad endings). So please carefully read the warnings before proceeding. Have a happy reading.

And please don't expect much from me. There are several other rec lists far better than mine. The only motive I had behind creating this list to promote some of the stories, which I think are very underrated. especially angsty ones. These stories are beautifully written so.. I just wanted to let the authors know how phenomenal of a job they have done (As a writer myself I know how much this actually means). Thanks to these amazing writers and I am grateful that they decided to share their work here with us.

[Minors please stay away from my blog!]

Key: F - Fluff, A- Angst, S- Smut, Y- Yandere, *- Personal Favorite

Oneshots

1. Ash from his fire by @filmcrystal - A, implied S, cheating au

It will break your heart so please proceed with caution.

2. Forbidden Fruit by @deepdarkdelights - A, Y

This one deals with several triggering topics. Hence, read the warnings carefully. But I can say that you will love this twisted mafia Hoseok way too much!

3. Shadows by @borathae - A, exes au

One of the most underrated stories I have ever read! Yeah, it is very angsty and Hoseok is so cruel but... we all are masochist here. lmao!

4. Heaven sent by @aquagustd - A, F, S, f2l au

Sexy soccer player Hoseok is just another name for perfection.

5. Bound by @explicit-tae - S, kinda f2l

Talk abut BDSM! GOOOD Sweet Lord!!!

6. Jigsaw by @sunshinejunghoseokie - A *

I remembered crying after reading this one. So damn underrated that it physically hurts me!!

7. Delta Disorder by @bangtanintotheroom Y, S, Supernatural au

I don't usually read supernatural stuff but this demon Hoseok is way too sexy to skip!

8. Systems of Touch by @yeoldontknow - S, F, tiny A, S2l au

Beautifully written! The author used 100% of their capabilities to write this one. Perfectly drawn Professor Hoseok with a very attractive character of reader. Certainly a treat to read.

9. 2:00 AM by @likeastarstar - A, fuckbuddy Hoseok

Part of a series but can be read as a standalone. and Hoseok is a dick in this.

10. Love Quarrels by @mirahuyooo - A, F, mafia au

A cold yet soft mafia husband Hoseok chases behind his angry wife... could there be anything better than that?

11. The Hook Up ft. JK by @minisugakoobies - S

A little bit of a triangle.. but not love? if that makes sense.

12. Entelechy by @drmflm - suggestive (I believe)

Can't call this one angst and neither is this about Hoseok (he is there, don't worry). This one is more about the reader and her growth and it's beautiful.

13. Orgasms on the verge of a nervous breakdown by @sluttyandere - S, Y *

This is very dark and quite triggering, so please don't read unless you can handle those stuff.

14. For the night by @aseaofyoongi - A, S

I cried. that's all.

15. We Shouldn't by @beahae - S **

Hands down to one of my most favourite Hoseok smuts ever!!! This one has a Jimin follow-up so make sure to read that too.

16. Real or not real by @nmjoo-n - A, S, F **

Again one of the most exquisite Hoseok fics I have ever read!

17. Checkmate by @sunshinejoon - A, S

This was supposed to have a sequel but it is perfect regardless.

18. Do I wanna know - @yoongiphoria - A, f2? ****

Now, MJ knows how much I love this one. I often read this story and I never ever get bored of it! I love this to the core and you should too!

19. Scrap - @silv3rswirls - A, Y, S

Dark and sexy. Read the warnings carefully please.

20. It's a Promise by @sahmfanficbts - S, A, Arranged marriage au

Just read it.

21. Three by @hamsterclaw - S

Again.. VERY UNDERRATED!

22. Wonderwall by @kiara-ish - A with an open ending

Might not be for the faint hearted.

23. Infatuated by @bangtanfancamp - F

If you like high school love au then this one is for you.

24. Constellations of You by @persphonesorchid - S, F, established relationship au

This is so domestic that my heart almost exploded while reading!!

25. Burning flames or paradise by @/yoongiphoria - A, tiny f ****

MJ does magic.... that's all I can say.

26. Alone again by @archivedkookie - A, F

I loooove these kinds of stories. Just the right amount of despair with the right amount of hope... beautiful.

27. Feeling Good by @bonvoyagenoona - A, S

Everything I write about this will fall short.. so I will just shut up and let you enjoy the goodness.

28. Distracted by @dilfhoseokie - S

Ahem..

29. Drink Champaign in my airplane by @/bangtanintotheroom - F, S, F2l

Perfectly embodies a rich hot CEO friend Hoseok... a fun read.

30. Keynote by @missgeniality - S **********

MY MOST FAVORITE HOSEOK ONESHOT TO EXIST IN THE PLANET. yeah.. (this has a follow-up but I like this one better)

Series

The thing is that I don't usually read series. I just don't have that patience. So this list is pretty small and forgive me for that.

1. Transference by @dark-muse-iris - A, S, F, S2l *********************

[Completed]

I wasn't the same after reading this. I can't talk about this trantric therapist Hoseok, 'cause I will never shut up if I start.

2. Kanalia by @xjoonchildx - A, S, f (?) *********************

[Ongoing]

Honestly, who isn't a sucker for Lord Jung? You must be sick if you are not. (On a side note.. Kanalia is keeping me alive from jumping off trains on tough days)

3. Guarded by @/xjoonchildx - A, S, F, S2l

[Completed]

Mafia Hoseok with dogtags. I think that's enough of an introduction.

If you want to read the Hoseok stories I write, you can checkout my Masterlist.

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circeyoru · 2 months

Text

Unwanted Soul _ Part 4 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request (1) + (2)

@hoshinosama Maybe p4 is about Alastor learning about reader past? 🥺

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 (here) — Part 5 *I suggest you read Part 2.5 if you didn't, it'll help

When you found out all those years ago, back when you first manifested in Hell that you were still somehow alive, you seeked out so many ways to off yourself again. You didn’t kill yourself to live in torture again. Especially when there was no right entertainment for you

Unforturnately, you did find out that you missed the annual exterminations that was a one way ticket to death. You missed it! Then you went to the next big thing. You seeked out the King of Hell, your next way to true death

You caught Lucifer at an awkward timing. His daughter that he so loved was doing something impossible, as he claims and his wife was more and more distant for some reason he can’t point. Well, you’re not interested in any way so you kindly asked if he could kill you

That dead look in your eyes shocked Lucifer really. You were like a soulless being, a puppet? A doll? There was no spark in you, no wants apart from your wish to death. Lucifer took pity on you and took you in, offering you a job of being an information collector of sorts. His little informant

You only agreed because he said you had powers in Hell and tempted you to delay your death till the next extermination to see if you still want the same. A little below a year to see if you liked your demon life or self. You discovered quite the unique power you have and honed it to perfection, testing it and perfecting it

All the while, you made friends with Lucifer who was a bit too obsessed with making ducks. He gave you your own collection of ducks. During which you created a case just to put those ducks on display, uplifting his spirits

Now Lucifer notices that you never smiled nor show prolonged excitement for anything. You were fascinated with your powers and abilities, but you were hardly happy. So he tried something. He brought you back to Earth for a visit and for you to get whatever you wished

Never has he seen you that happy and grateful like you were another person. You dragged him all over the place, actually requesting things and wanting stuff done. Lucifer happily fulfilled it all. It was the least he could do when you gave him company when his family was distant from him

Even better was when you gave up on your (second) death and was more energetic. To seems to Lucifer that bringing you to Earth was the right call, so he gave you exclusive access to the living world on the condition that you would never cause harm to the mortals and bring other demons along with you. Namely abuse it, you easily agreed with no issue

Throughout your years of serving Lucifer, you never actually caught wind of Charlie because you didn’t want Lucifer getting depressed even more due to the distance and you never actively searched for Lilith because Lucifer’s response to your offer nearly made your sda self cry for him

You kept a strict business relationship with Lucifer to ensure that all the gathered information was to his benefit and liking, you later allowed a friendship with him because he helped you see light in this hellhole. If you had taken your life, you wouldn’t be enjoying your afterlife or meet him

“Are you really seriously happy with that thing?” Lucifer asked as his face twisted to one of disgust and maybe anger when his eyes darted over to the demon humming a joyful tune while baking with a ridiculous apron You hummed, looking up from your tablet and pausing your search, “If you’re referring to Alastor, then yes, I am.” Lucifer let out a childish groan, plopping his chin in his palm, “Why is it that tacky piece of—” He cut himself off when he heard your giggle. At time he thought you were giggling at his name-calling, but you were looking at Alastor with a soft gaze before you caught yourself and turned back to Lucifer. He smiled along, “Maybe he’s not too bad if he can make you smile like that.” “Like what?” You tilted your head, not following. You blinked twice when Lucifer suddenly lean extremely close to you with a smirk, you raised a brow, “What are you doing? “Oh, darling!” Alastor sang, immediately came over and swatted Lucifer away from you like a bug. Before you could make a comment, he showcased a tray of freshly fried donuts. “I glazed it with some sugar. I can make more flavours, if you so desire, My Dear.” You picked up one and tried it, “Taste great, Alastor.”

Even though Lucifer is happy for your own happiness, he can’t help but want to rile up Alastor just to show that Radio Demon you had a close friendship with The King of Hell. When you were still in slumber mode, he warned Alastor thoroughly that if you were to cry under any circumstances, Alastor’s gonna answer to him

You found it odd how you were somewhat surrounded by people now. Just a year ago, you were trying to get Alastor out of your home and living your dream life. But now, you were in a hotel of all places. You wonder what your life came to really

Your eyes landing on Alastor, you can’t help but smile fondly. Your biggest change was letting someone else into your life and you like it. You can’t deny that Alastor was on the extreme side, but it was all his way of showing affection, so you can’t deny that any longer. They say time will time, and they proved Alastor was a devotee to your affection

It was a mystery why you accepted the gang’s invitation to drink when you were heading to the kitchen for some food, since Alastor was out to visit Rosie. It left you drank and a talker, you were more energetic and carefree than usual, a completely different side. When Alastor came back, everyone was quick to scatter, not wanting to explain themselves to the Radio Demon for your state

“Alastor! Welcome back!” You waved, hopping off the high chair while holding onto your wine glass, wobbly but careful not to spill. “You’re very late today.” “Apologises, My Dear, Rosie was introducing me to some new shops for your steak.” Alastor took the wine glass away and threw it into the bar where Husk was hiding under, he held onto your hand to balance you, “What have you been doing, Darling?” “Oh, nothing. Charlie and the others invited me to drink, Husk made me this bubbly drink that’s a bit… bubbly!” You giggled, planting your face into Alastor’s front, hugging him as you snizzle at him. “Very bubbly.” Alastor looked up to glare at the bar, though void of the culprits that put you in such a state. You avoided alcohol for a reason. He picked you up, holding you like a princess. “Well, My Dearest, time to head back to your room then.”

This state of yours was a wild card to Alastor. Sometimes, you were highly aware of your surroundings and played flirty, sometimes you were sleepy, sometimes you were talkative, sometimes you were cruel. It was like different sides of you were fighting for dominance

He have only seen you sleepy once when he added alcohol into the meal for taste, you fell asleep before you finished your food. The next day he inquired and you told him your drunken states, strictly telling him to not let you drink alcohol or put them in your drink or food. So he was puzzled how Charlie and the others got you to drink

Boredom got you to do a lot of things. Try out new hobbies only to revert back to your old ones in a matter of days. An intensive obsession that doesn’t last long, a frequent phenomenon with you. That’s why you were adamant about him leaving you, you think Alastor will get bored of you and leave out of the blue when you had no time to prepare

Alastor was well aware, though he had no idea where this rooted from, he proved you wrong by staying with you all these years without fail. He’ll continue to do so too

“Ask me something. I’ll answer.” You shifted to sleep on your side, eying Alastor who was cleaning up the mess you’ve been. “Anything.” “Dear, you’ll regret this. I won’t take advantage of your drunk state.” You pouted, “I won’t regret it. We’ve been close. I don’t mind letting you know things, I’ll not answer if I don’t feel comfortable, okay?” Alastor hummed, snapping his fingers to change your clothes to something more comfortable for sleep, then he took of his coat to place it on an armchair. He sat down on the bedside, “Are you sure, Dear? I will ask anything.” “Yeah.” You hugged onto a soft toy nearby “Why did you kill yourself?” “...My life wasn’t worth living.” You muttered, your eyes downcasted. It was a lucky thing that Alastor’s back was to you. “I didn’t see a meaning in my life, every day it was like I was torturing myself.” “Why are you hesitant about accepting connection, affection and love?” You chuckled drily, “That’s so direct, Alastor.” You hummed and closed your eyes, recalling memories of the past when you were alive. “I loved connection, I loved affection too. I never understood love. I had so many friends when I was younger, like a kid, but I realized they weren’t friends and it was a form of bully. I thought my family cared about me but when I wasn’t useful, they pushed me aside.” Alastor moved his hand to you, wiping away a tear that escaped your closed eyelids. “I’m sorry to hear that, you don’t deserve that.” Despite his gentleness to you, he was seething with rage. “No wonder you were pushing me away, Darling.” “I thought I had the love of my life though. He confessed first, I ignored it then accepted it. Then he and I broke off. Afterwards, we’re back together again. He called me clingy, annoying, he regretted giving me his love. So I broke it off. Then he came back to me, saying he was wrong. I was desperate. I accepted, thinking it was the last. I shouldn’t have accepted.” You took a deep breath, your eyes opened, glassy and dull “He’s not worth your time and energy, Doe.” Alastor sat properly, letting you lie in his lap while he played with you hair. “Forget him.” He almost growled, he controlled himself so his claws wouldn’t sharpen. “Forget all about him.” You closed your eyes once more, leaning into his touch. “I killed myself in my sleep. I wanted to sleep forever and ignore all the suffering around me. I don’t want to hear their laughter, I don’t want to see their smiles, I don’t want to sing them praise and congratulations. I don’t want to know about their achievements while I was… I don’t want it…” “Shhhhh… Darling, it’s alright.” Alastor looked down at you, bringing your fluffy blanket up to you. “You don’t need to care about them, you have me with you now. Whatever you desire is yours.”

The promises and whispers of giving you the world, in exchange for your presence in his life. You believed you took Alastor for granted. You were indifference to his affection and care in the beginning, when he showed you such extreme to protect and defend you (even when it’s not needed), you were scared that he saw you as the next entertainment

So you kept pushing him away. Showing him to the door when he was all healed up. You knew it only took that long because he was worsening his wounds to stay longer. It was a cliche tactic and you saw through it. When that didn’t work, he said he had to stay to replay you for your kindness. A rarity in Hell, which you agree. But you told him, “It was only to amuse myself.”

Alastor merely laughed and commended on your honestly. Freshing, as he claimed. Everything you did to get him away from you, it only drew him closer and closer to you. To the point where you have to take a break from it all, to clear your head and think. The hotel, it was perfect, so you sent him there. Maybe he’d find better entertainment there

But then he gave you reports daily, an excuse to hear your voice and feel your presence through the radio. He spotted a loophole. You found yourself looking forward to his reports. Even letting him visit once for a ‘job well done’ reward. He delayed his return to the hotel and you didn’t complain

You told yourself not to fall for him. Don’t let history repeat itself. Save yourself the heartache. This was Hell, no way would someone like Alastor devote to you just because he loves you. No way. Don’t hope. Don’t expect. If you do, you’re putting yourself up for a nasty fall

When you heard that Alastor’s old friend Mimzy came over, completely ignoring the way he treated a soul he owned that went by the name Husk. The next day, you found yourself on the streets searching for this Mimzy character. She didn’t have a good reputation, but who does in Hell. You felt your anger raising when she spoke of Alastor’s name left and right to take whatever she wanted

Before you knew it, you had fired a shot at her. You left before she found you. You left yourself slip. Why now? Why? What made Alastor different? Lucifer saved you from a quick suicide after your arrival to Hell, you didn’t feel the same with him as you did with Alastor. Why? WHY?

You thought you had a piece of mind when Alastor told you the exterminations were targeting the hotel first. This will end your mistake. This will save you the fall. You gave Alastor your order, “Protect the hotel and the Princess must be aided to the best of your abilities.”

To see things end, you stood a safe distance away from the battle. Your eyes on Alastor who took up the role of battling against Adam. You should have smiled that Alastor’s chances of winning was slim, but you found your heartbeat quicken as anxiety rose

The back of your mind shouted at you. Alastor will die. Adam’s an angel. He has angelic powers. Save him. Can’t let him die. One strike from Adam and Alastor’s history. You’ll be free. Wait. No!

Your hands moved as you brought out a spare blank book, you opened it and the winds picked up around you. The pages all came out, flying around you. You teleported between your enemy and your (potential lover) friend

The moment you activated your teleportation, you made your peace, you love having Alastor around you. You love his presence. You love him

Note: I ended up writing too much again. And what's with all those asks suddenly??? So shocked to get that. What ever started them???

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@nevermore-ramblings

@justboredforreal

@youroneandonlysimp

@falsemain

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@anni1600

@readergirlstuff

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

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Little Miguel, Big Miguel (Pt. 1)

In which Miguel finds himself face to face with a younger variant of himself that joins the Spider Society. He's not too happy about it but reluctantly agrees. And so ensues a point in time where there are two very different Miguel's. Lovely art in the middle by LBY2K99 on twt <3 Miguel x GN!Reader, soon-to-be fluff, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,734

Miguel was never a man shocked by things. Most things at least. Being Spider-Man, you tend to face all types of bizarre experiences and just write them off as another day for the neighborhood. In turn, it was really hard to stump Miguel and make him uncomfortable.

But this?

This was something he knew could happen but had really hoped it didn't.

He stood straight with his arms crossed tensely against his broad chest. His eyes narrowed but had no anger to them, only confusion, for a lack of a better term. He didn't know what to do with…it. Him? It felt awkward.

In front of him was, well, himself. Only a timid and incredibly young variant of himself. It was like looking in a mirror but minus 15 years. The little Miguel's demeanor was the complete opposite of the older one. His arms were glued to his side in tight fists. He was slightly hunched, intimidated and a little star-struck at his older self. The little one gulped and blinked his wide eyes up at older Miguel, which made his eyebrow twitch up.

“Jess…” Miguel spoke, his voice low and threatening. Jess was beside the smaller Miguel, a shit-eating grin on her face since she knew there was nothing to be afraid of and it was only mild annoyance from him. Still, she raised her hands up in mock defense.

“I just thought it'd be nice to include a new member. We have plenty of variations of Peter, I don't see why we can't have another one of you.” Miguel's frown deepened at Jess's words.

“He's young.” He retaliated.

“He's around the same age as Pav.” She gave him a deadpan look.

“He's–inexperienced!”

“Mayday is almost two and knows her way as a spider person already.”

Miguel grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't want this since he knew what would come from it.

Jess placed a hand on the little Miguel's shoulder, which he flinched at, and gestured to him softly. “I saw him work before coming up to him. He's great and he seems interested. I think all of us felt something when we heard there was a chance to meet people like us. A community.” Little Miguel stood awkwardly, awaiting the big boss, which was technically himself, for his answer.

“I-If I were you, which I am, I'd let me in.” Little Miguel coughed and crossed his arms, changing his stance to match his counterpart. He lifted his chin up but then faltered, shrinking back into himself when the older Miguel snapped his head to glare at him.

Miguel tightened his arms across his chest and sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. I'll assign him under you so give him a run down on this place,” Miguel pulled out the familiar time watch and tossed it in the smaller one's hand. Little Miguel grabbed it with two hands and marveled at the accessory that materialized before his eyes, his sharp fangs poking out from underneath his top lip when he smiled at it. He snapped the day pass bracelet off his wrist and replaced it with the watch. Jess smiled and Miguel waved a hand in the air. “Lyla, scan him.”

Lyla appeared in front of the smaller Miguel with shock on her face. “Woah! Freaky! I was wondering when another grump would pop up.” She flickered around him, using a tape measurer playfully as she subtly scanned him. He took a step back with a small yelp.

“What are you?”

Lyla squeaked a small gasp of offense. “Do you not have a me in your universe?” She asked, plucking a clipboard behind her back and sitting in mid-air. “Surely you have AI. You're from a different 2099, right? Although, not a single AI are quite as spectacular as me. But I could be better–so when you inevitably get around to making me, I have some suggestions–”

“Lyla,” The older Miguel growled and she quickly flicked back to his shoulder with a grin. “Did you get it?” He asked. Lyla nodded and saluted him.

“All done, boss. The file on him should be uploaded by now for your viewing pleasure,” She bowed before glancing over at the smaller version of her creator. “Y'know. It'd be a little confusing calling you by the same name. How does Miggy sound? Perfect! See ya, Miggy!” She brightened up, ignoring Miguel's inevitable protesting by phasing out from the air, leaving just the three in the room.

Miguel turned around to face his console monitors, his cheeks darkening. His hands made quick work pulling up his variants file and pushing away other documents to look at for another day. “Dismissed. And welcome to the club, kid.” Miguel grunted, focusing on the task at hand, gaining information on his variant’s universe.

Jess smacked Miggy's back and he grunted from the power. “Alright, now follow me. I'll show you the others first so you can get to know them. They might freak out but it'll be fine.” She waved it off, leading Miggy out the dark corridor and back into the light of the hallways.

Miggy blinked from the sudden brightness, his eyes adjusting and slowly widening as he took in the place. He turned in a circle while walking with Jess, seeing various versions of the Spider-Man he knew from the Heroic Age section in his History books. “So, you all just…hang here as spider people? Saving universes?” He asks and Jess nods. “I never thought there'd be so much of me. Us? You?” He stumbled and it made Jess laugh.

“Yeah, we all pretty much have that reaction. It's a little overwhelming going from being by yourself to a whole society of people like you.” Jess reminisced of the first time she was recruited by Miguel when the society was freshly made.

“No kidding,” Miggy sighed deeply, still glancing around. “So..me. The older me. He's not just me in the future right?” He turns his body to pass by another Spider-Man, waving hi when their costume eyes widened down at Miggy.

Jess chuckled. “No. You're your own person. You said you got bit, right? Most of us did but Miguel wasn't.” She explains and Miggy nods along, looking up at her.

“Alright, cool. ‘Cause even though that's me, he seemed kind of different from…” He trailed off, feeling his spidey senses going off. He blinked rapidly, trying to find what it was trying to tell him about. He heard Jess call your name in a greeting.

“What are you doing here?” She asked you.

You smiled at her, lifting a plastic bag to show her. “Miguel mentioned he'd stay late tonight so I thought I'd bring some food and hang with him for a while.” You explained.

Miggy looked up at you as his spidey senses calmed down after landing on your form. His jaw slowly dropped, his cheeks reddening while he admired you. He felt his heart beat a bit faster, pounding in his ears and his mouth went dry. Miggy would barely hear anything that came out of Jess's mouth even when she pulled him close. Your eyes had finally glanced down at him and he felt his heart skip a beat, his cheeks darkening even more under your gaze. Holy shock.

“Oh my–! Look at how cute!” You gushed. You clutched the handles of the plastic bag tighter and lifted the bag to your chest as you cooed down at him. “You look so much like him! Oh, god it's uncanny!” You laughed and Miggy nearly melted at the angelic sound.

He became nervous, his palms sweating and clutched them at his side rigidly. He swallowed through his cotton mouth and tried to greet you. “H-hi…” His voice cracked and he burned brighter, if it was even possible. He quickly shut his mouth and pursed his lips.

You chuckled. “Hi.” You introduced yourself, sticking out your hand for a polite handshake. Miggy hesitated knowing how sweaty his hand had become. He wiped his hand on his thigh quickly and shook your hand with a soft whisper of your name on his lips. He noted that your hands were soft.

You noticed it but decided to hold off on teasing him. The poor kid looked like he'd combust any second and you found it adorable. You took a glance at his suit and hummed in thought. “It's been a while since I've seen the original. It's a classic Miguel look.” You smiled and Miggy stood straight and puffed his chest in pride to appear taller but he was still just a bit shorter than you.

“Y-yeah, I designed it myself. No biggie.” He coughed, rubbing his nose and looking away nonchalantly. You and Jess exchanged a look between each other. A similar thought in your minds that screamed of potential teasing material for the other Miguel. “So, you a spider person?” He asked, deepening his voice and running a hand through his longer hair, hoping he wasn't sweating through his suit.

You grinned with amusement and shook your head. “No, I'm a little more special. I'm short on time though, so I'll see you soon Jess. And maybe you too, Miggy.” He felt his heart skip two beats and his jaw clenched. Hearing his name, even though a nickname, on your lips made him feel warm and fuzzy. You waved at them both goodbye and passed them to head towards Miguel's dark corridor. Jess watched you for a moment and then looked down at Miggy, where he stared shamelessly like a teenage boy would.

“C'mon, lover boy. We still have a tour to do.” Jess tugged his arm and Miggy stumbled before catching his feet and walking in the same pace with her.

“Who–who were they exactly?” He asked with a squeak to his voice, his cheeks regaining their natural color and his heart returning at a normal pace. He wanted to know more about you, a small crush forming.

Jess waved him off. “They're too old for you, kid. Plus, we'll get to that in a second. I really need you to complete orientation before you start asking questions.” Miggy frowned, not satisfied with her answer and Jess could only think how his frown was exactly like Miguel's which made her laugh to herself. Miggy followed closely behind to not stray from her as they made their way into a familiar area that smelled of food and made his stomach growl.

Little Miguel is very loosely based on the Timestorm Spider-Man 2009/2099 comic he's in. There's not much on him I could find so I'm making it up as I go haha. This is mostly for myself because I think the idea of them meeting is too cute to pass up teehee. This will be my first ongoing series !!! not much reader but i promise there'll be more hehehaha

requests are open as well !!! i can multitask >:3

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 months

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Daisies and Talks

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Hi lovelies! Lia here and I know this pic is a bit misleading but I SWEAR on you that Simon doesn't die in this one, IT'S A HAPPY STORY OKAY. I was debating on making this a part two of Ghostie's parents progressed and though you're free to think that, I thought it would be much cuter to leave this to stay as a story on it's own.

Ghost's mum plays a big role in this one though so if you're not very comfortable with mentions of death or anything then I suggest leaving this one out and skipping. Two posts in one week? Are y'all lucky or am I just emptying my drafts? Y'all will never know.. AHAHAHA.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld

I'd like to think that everyone is familiar with the saying "You never know what you have until you lose it", many of us having it said during childhood but you never truly experience that till your older right? Wrong, that couldn't be more wrong for a man like Simon Riley, the man who lost it all at a young age, no one left to care for him but himself.

He always used to hear that from his mother, over some the toys she used to make for him that he cherished and loved so much as a kid. Simon knew his family wasn't up their with the middle class but he also knew they weren't exactly poor, though his father might prove that wrong with how much he's driving the family into debt.

Due to this, Simon always taught himself never to get attached to another person though he tried working on it, he doesn't know what he'd do if he does. That was before you came along skipping your way into his frail heart, making all the walls her built crumble with just a few words and a soft stare, someone who was patient enough to stay.

Simon can't let you go, he took that saying that his mother used to chant and took it to heart. He didn't need to lose you to know you were so fucking important, like that the man held onto everything that you were.

Cherishing moments with you although sometimes wishing his mother could see you. He wanted his mom to know that he found that person that only is in fairy tales she used to read him to at night. Maybe you were sent by her, that's it right?

Because all Simon could think about staring at your face while you sleep next to him was "how?". How were you able to wiggle your way into his heart so easily? You make him feel so alive and full, sometimes it causes him to be self-destructive, starting fights simply because he doesn't think he deserves you but you were so patient, holding him as if he was the whole world after every fight.

Because of you, that part of Simon slowly disappeared, knowing that he should change his ways because you deserved better. They say there's one moment in someone's life where you know for sure that, that is the person you want to spend your life with. Do you wanna know what that moment was for Simon?

Every death anniversary of Simon's mother, he visits that grave, sometimes a little later than usual. You've been in a relationship with this man for a little over a year now and to say you've grown attached to that man like he did to you was an understatement. He saw you there, leaving flowers.. Daisies in particular, he told you those were her favorite.

You sat next to the grave, absentmindedly staring up at the sky, it was beautiful out that day. You talked to yourself, more like his mother really, greeting her quite casually as if you've talked to her before. Simon at first found it a bit odd, though he did tell you everything regarding where his mom was buried and dates when he'd visit her.

You've been doing this secretly for at least once a month for a couple now, not having the heart to tell Simon but it just so happens that he was a little earlier there than he usually does go. He hid himself behind among other things surrounding the grave, listening to the conversation you've been having with his mother's tomb stone.

"He's been doing better now.. I'm sure you're so proud of him because am I, I know you're watching over him and I promise to do my best to make Simon happy and make sure he's cared for, he deserves all that and so much more"

Simon listened, on and on as you continue telling his mother updates on his life and how he's been doing. He put two and two together slowly realizing that you've been visiting her grave for a while now.

"Thank you, if it weren't for you then I wouldn't have Simon. My Simon.. someday I'll help him create the life you'd want for us, I know he'd just say that you would want what we want and I know that for a fact. I wish you were here, I would've loved for you to see Simon smile again."

You looked back at the grave. "You know Mrs. Riley, I feel safe here, are you the one doing that?" Smiling as you looked up and rested your eyes a little.

You leaned back a bit with a satisfied sigh hum after a deep breath, Simon's deep voice making you jolt up, "You know she'd want you to call her mom right? Or at least Ma Riley is what the other kids who she practically adopted in the neighborhood call her" he walked out from wherever he was hiding himself.

"Simon I-" You were cut off by seeing the tears running down his eyes, you stood up from where you were sitting, not bothering to dust off your backside that probably had grass stuck to your clothes.

You immediately wrap your arms around your boyfriend and gave him a tight squeeze, letting go only to cup his face in your hands and wipe his tears with your thumb, Simon leaned his forehead on yours, looking at your eyes with his teary ones.

"Oh Simon, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done this without asking for your permission. God I'm so stupid, you hate me now, don't you—" Before you could even continue what you were saying, Simon cut you off with his shushing, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You knew it must've meant a lot to him, he didn't have enough words to describe how grateful he was for you. Unbeknownst to you, whenever Simon did talk to his mother, he'd always find himself worming to you somehow.

One of the reasons he had brought the ring between his fingers at that very moment, coming to ask his mother's grave for guidance on how he's going to do it..

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infamous-if · 4 months

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Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

#update #December update #Amy the chatterbox

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runningmunson · 1 year

Text

Dragons, Knights, And Princesses

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 604 Summary: You walk into your room to find Aemond playing with your son. Warnings: fluff, Dad!Aemond A/N: I've been super busy and havent written anything in over a week so I just wanted to get something out!

Masterlist

You could hear the sound of yelling and giggles as you rounded the corner. It echoed in the halls outside your chamber and got louder the closer you got. You reached the door and opened it to find Aemond perched on the bed and your son, Rhaelor, standing next to it with a toy sword held in his hand.

“Is that a beautiful princess I see? She’s all alone and mine for the taking!” Aemond jumped off the bed and rushed over to you. He picked you up in your arms, causing a gasp to slip from your lips. He whispered in your ear, “Play along? It’s a game of knights and dragons, but it looks like we have just gained a princess.”

“Help! It looks like the mean dragon is going to lock me away in a castle. Will you save me, my knight?” you yelled in an exaggerated panic as Aemond gently tossed you on the bed and returned to his previous position. Your son looked at you and then at Aemond before standing in a defensive position, the sword now pointed in his direction.

“It would be my honor, princess,” Rhaelor said in his small voice.

“You think you can defeat me, small knight?” Aemond questioned, making his voice deeper.

“I may be small, but even the smallest knight can be mighty!” your son ran toward Aemond and swung the sword striking him in the leg.

“I won’t go down without a fight!” Aemond let out a growl and leaped off the bed, moving toward your son. He grabbed him and held him down. His fingers found your son’s side and began to dig into his skin, causing him to giggle.

“No, papa! Dragons can’t tickle knights!” Rhaelor yelled out, trying to catch his breath.

Aemond smirked and continued, “Maybe other dragons cannot, but I am not like the other dragons. My skills outmatch even those of Vhagar.”

Your son struggled under his father’s tight grip trying to break free. His small hand reached toward the wooden sword and grabbed ahold of it. With one swift movement, he sliced the sword against Aemond’s side. He let go and placed his hand over his side.

“Oh no, you have struck me. But I am not yet dead!” He once more tried to lunge toward your son, but he thrust the sword forward, giving a final blow. Aemond clutched his chest and dropped to the floor, where he stayed still.

“The dragon has been slain! I have saved you, princess!” Rhaelor yelled and rushed over to help you off the bed.

“My knight in shining armor. How brave you have been,” you placed a kiss on his cheek. “But whatever shall we do with this dragon on our floor?”

“Maybe Cannibal will come to eat him?” Rhaelor suggested.

“I don’t know about Cannibal. However, I do believe Vhagar will be quite upset that this dragon claimed to have better skills than her,” You walked over to Aemond and gave him a nudge with your foot. He laid still for a few more moments, which allowed your son to let his guard down. Your husband took this chance to jump back up.

“Wait! It looks like the dragon lives again for revenge,” Aemond yelled and lunged toward Rhaelor. He picked him up in his arms and swung him around the room. Laughter could be heard outside the room once more. It was the sound of a truly happy family; one that was much different than what Aemond grew up in. He had finally formed the family he always dreamed of having.

Taglist: @wrendermeuseless , @darylandbethfanforever9 , @theekinslayer , @janelongxox , @1950schick

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd x reader #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x reader

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broooooo · 6 months

Text

Dronehood

____________________

In today's world , the world has been slowly taken over by drones, whether it was by force, choice or persuasion, men are being converted, covered in a shiny black latex, a second skin, a well built muscled body, constantly aroused and hard. The mind does seem to remain keeping the hosts personality, but there's a big focus of obeying the master and the pleasure of dronehood

At first the world was scared, but as the drone army expanded, it slowly became normal, as if it's a rite of passage for teenage, adult men. It's even become a kind of entertainment to watch a conversion happen, could inspire others , or worn them.

Then there's me

I am Aaron, 21, regular build, living in an apartment, IV never been opposed to the drone movement. It's interesting to watch.

Deep down I wouldn't mind becoming a drone myself, it genuinely sounds fun.

Iv watched my childhood friend, Jason, become one before my eyes, he had wanted it for a while, and decided to get a slow conversion, he wanted to experience all the feelings grow and build.

The conversion itself is simple, intercourse with a drone, you may or may not include leather articles of clothing such as gloves or boots for extra pleasure. When it's done, the new drone is given a serial number name, but can keep their human name for interactions with others, plus they can take off their head mask for easy identification.

I myself don't leave my room a lot, i just watch from my TV or the window, hearing it through my walls too at times. Jason's my roommate, but he's never home, he's busy converting others or just hanging out with other drones.

Somewhat makes me jealous, before his conversion , we were the same, locked in your rooms not doing much, it honestly is a better life for him, and I'm happy,

It's possible to request a drone conversion, many have done it, Idk why I haven't done it yet, I guess I want to keep my peace for a little while, but ik at some point it will get too much to bear and then I will know I'm ready.

_________________

It was a normal day for me, watching my conversions , and contemplating life. When suddenly I hear the front door open, I rush out to see him, Jason standing in the door way, his heavy leather boots stomping on the floor as he closes the door. He looks at me, I haven't seen his have a week's.

JASON!?* ITS been so long, how.. have you been?*

He smiles and embraces me in a hug

*Iv been well, I missed you*

My face goes flush red, as I hug him back.

His latex skin is soft and shiny , the feel of hard muscles, it makes my heart race.

We pull away and I ask*

What are you doing here Jason?* Don't you have missions ?*

Jason laughs and says * well I do live here, plus even drones need rest.*

I answer back"

Well that makes sense , yeah*

Jason goes sit on the couch to watch TV.

*mind getting me a sparkling lemon water Aaron?.

Oh? Ok sure , I'll make us both one *

I go the kitchen, fill two cups with soda and prepare to cut lemons, during all this my mind races with thoughts, the sudden appearance of Jason and the feeling of his skin, it felt great. I feel hot, almost dreaming of it

As I'm cutting lemons the knife slips and cuts my hand, breaking me out of my dream like state

GAH*

Jason turns and runs up to me concerned

Are you ok?*

I'm fine just cut my self.

I go to clean up the blood and find a bandage, but problem, we where out of bandages

*darn we're out of bandaids.

Well I have a suggestion*

I turn around to see Jason's bear hand outstretched holding a latex glove.

You took it off? Isn't that yours?

Don't worry, I get a new one, my body can create it naturally.

I look at the glove as I hold it, it's soft,

The glove has a healing effect to it, it protects us drones from major injuries.

Huh, convenient , as I smile* thanks

I put the glove over my disinfected hand, I move my fingers about feeling it, it was soft, silky and comfortable.

So this is how it feels?* I say

Yeah, it's quite the sensation isn't it?,

Very much so, no wonder many ppl become drones.

Jason helps me finish the drinks and we go sit on the couch together.

Have you thought about dronehood much Aaron?

I turn to him and choke a little ,

Have I thought about it? It's ALL I can think about xd* I say with laughter, I observe it happen from my room, since your never hear.

And before you ask, no, I don't think I'm ready yet.

Jason looks into this drink and back up to me, he leans a hand over to touch my shoulder,

He smiles and says, * when you're ready then, no force, I want you to enjoy it as much as possible.

I peek up, *I KNEW IT, you planned this, laughing.

You were always a trickster you, we both laugh

Well Aaron , I. Do hope you enjoy that glove, it will help you decide, I'm sure of it.

I turn to look out the window and smiles

*thanks, i-, will definitely have an answer soon I'm sure.

___________

Afterwards we hang out the rest of day, it was a fun reunion, full of talk and catching up untill sun down

We both go to bed , crashing instantly as I'd been so tired after today.

The next day Jason and I bid farewell as he leaves for a mission.

I'm left alone and go to my room , sitting on my bedroom couch

_____

Hm, planed or not, I'm happy I have this glove. I turn on the TV to watch some more conversions

I feel hot and steamy imagining it, before I know it I'm rubbing my bulge with the gloved hand , my dick getting erect from what pleasure I can muster,

And idea popped into my head, I head over to Jason's room, and my mind was validated when I saw them, an extra pair of leather boots,

*planned this too Jason? Well idc, thanks*

We happen to be the same size, even so is force my feet into them, the boots go up to my kne, tall and shiny, sliding my feet in, my heart and mind are racing , my dick is rock hard , the sensations are over powering, I lace them up tight, whist I remove my clothing.

I stand up to look to the mirror, naked with only a latex glove and leather boots on, the weight of the boots and the tightness, protecting me, I go to my bed,I start to edge off slowly, aroused to high heavens and enjoying it all. Whilst the sounds of conversions from the TV hum in the background.

I never realized it but the dream like state I was in of edging and leaking lasted 3 days, I was covered in pre, drooling and gooing out, the latex glove and boots has started to spread up my legs and arm, then came Jason, he stood in my bedroom doorway, smiling, he comes over and jumps on top of me, squeezing my nipples hard

I moan hard and leak over me

*ready Aaron?*

Laughing through the intense pleasure ,

*hehe yeah. Convert me friend* I'm ready*

Jason's glowing purple eyes look into mine,

___________

Jason's hard latex dick at the ready, and with a passionate kiss it commences, what felt like a. Eternity, lasted a week of slow intense sex and conversion. As I expected it all

By the end of it, we and the bed were wet in pre, drool and juices, through the days, the latex nanites from Jason's dick slowly transformed my body, spreading the latex all over whist giving my muscle to fit, the climax of the conversion was then.

Jason fucking my tight ass, we both prepared for it , cum

It was a screech of intense pleasure, black nantite filled cum sprayed in ropes out our dicks, lasting 69 minutes of constant cumming, fucking and kissing, and the cum pool around us and soak back up into our bodies, , strengthening the conversion.

When it was all over , we lay there together tired and in love

My eyes start to glow to an intense blue. My mind was reshaped and ready,

Looking to Jason's eyes I say.

* I am ready to obey , ready to spread , ready to cum alongside you *

Jason smiles and kisses me, *ik.. drone 6923..*

My eyes flash, * yes... My new name.. thank you..

Drone 8696..*

___________

In the end we two drones, continued to make out intensely, passionately, never running out of cum

Untill the next mission is handed to us, and. I join Jason on my first crusade, We will enjoy each other forever.

______

: D

I enjoyed this one , genuinely think it's one of my best works yet

Hope you enjoy it, fellow drones

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sykostyles · 2 months

Text

let you love me 1.2 (final)

wc: 15.6 k (listen, i'm sorry okay)

summary: in which y/n is a 26 year old bakery owner and she can't quite get this whole "love" thing right; settling on finding solace in being alone. One day, Jackson Cole: an egotistical, but oh so charismatic professional quarterback comes along and swears he can change her mind.. and for a while he does. nearly two years of breaking down her walls.. but they seem to argue about one thing a lot. y/n's "negativity". she swears she's not trying ro be a pessimist.. it just works out better for her if she keeps her expectations low. But what happens when she meets a handsome stranger, who wants nothing more than to see her smile? Will she push everything away again or will she finally accept the love she deserves? or ; tldr sunshine! harry x grumpy! afab reader part one, two

a/n: here we have it, the last part of my first story! thank you all so much for the love so far. I can't tell you what it means to me. I can't wait to see what's next. I know this is super long but there was so much I wanted to include with harry and y/n. I hope you all enjoy!

cw: this story contains suggestive and explicit language, minor descriptions of violence, and verbal abuse. please do not continue if these topics upset you!

Never once did you think that your handsome stranger that you met nearly five months ago would still be stopping in your bakery every day. His antics lately have been amped up, he’s very determined to treat you to a night out, but you’re constantly refusing; not quite ready to let yourself be vulnerable again.

“When will you let me take you out, love?”

“When pigs fly, Harry. Doing the same as yesterday?” You say gesturing to the case.

“You wound me, but I know I’ll change your mind. Yes, same as yesterday.”

“Ya know, Harry, the last guy said the same thing, and here we are.” You say, sliding his box over for the hundredth time at this point.

“Ah, but I am indeed not the last guy.” He glances down at his phone, “Give me one moment, I need to step out for just a second.” Harry says before excusing himself out front, Though he isn’t gone long, returning holding something behind his back.

You do often find yourself daydreaming about letting yourself be happy again. It’s a feeling you crave constantly, just the desire to feel heard, feel seen, feel loved.

But, you know that in the long run, it’s better this way. You can’t get hurt if you don’t let yourself get put in that situation. Even though you’re just hurting yourself, you'll just keep pretending you’re not.

“Hopefully this will make your day go a little better,” Harry says, revealing the secret behind his back.

You stare at his hand for a moment. “How did you know?”

“Pardon?” Harry asks, his hand still extended holding the cup of coffee out to you. From your favorite coffee shop down the street. The exact way you like your coffee.

“This. How did you know?” You inquired, taking the cup from his grasp.

“A true magician never reveals his secrets, love. But Ryan just picked it up for me.”

“Har-” you start,

“I know, you say you don’t like the nickname. I’ll make a liar out of you, though. Just give it time.”

“Thank you. For the coffee” You almost whisper.

“Course, love. I’ll bring it to you every day if you’d like.”

“Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that.” You say, waving your hands back and forth.

“Well, it's a good thing you’re not asking. I’ll see you tomorrow, Love. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Bye, Harry.” You smile to yourself after he leaves.

“And you say you’re not interested in him.” Jesse says leaning against the doorframe leading to the back room.

“I’m not. He’s just being friendly.” You say. Your nose would be growing if your name was Pinocchio, that’s for sure.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, girl. Just give in, you never know what you might be missing out on. He seems to really like you.”

“He does.” You concur, “But so did Jackson.” You whisper, leaving him up front.

Nearing the end of the summer, you finally decided to switch up your answer with Harry. After many conversations with Carly, Jesse, and even Mr. Henry had something to say much to your surprise, you decided maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just see where it went. You didn’t have to sign your life over to him or anything. You were just scared. Harry knew that. “Whenever you’re ready, love. Just know I'll be waiting.” Everyone knew that. They were all just waiting for you to come out of the hole you dug yourself into out of self preservation. They can’t really blame you for being weary, Harry is doing almost exactly what Jackson was doing when he was pursuing you. Although, you do have to admit it feels different this time around. Harry feels different. Harry feels.. Real.

Of course, you were still planning on making him work for it. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. But like Carly said, if he was deterred by your sharp tongue and witty comebacks, he wouldn’t keep pressing on like he has been. Even though you attempted to throw out the “Jackson was the same way.” excuse but she deadpanned “Not everyone is a egotistical, meathead football player that’ll do anything to get his dick wet.” You weren’t entirely sure if you should have been offended by that statement. But after she showed you all of the headlines Jackson has been in over the last six months regarding his failing love life you both had a few good laughs.

“Good morning, Love. How are you today?” Harry says, sliding the daily cup of coffee across the counter.

“Mm, it would be better if i didn’t have to get out of bed to talk to people like you, but here we are.” You say, bringing the cup to take a sip.

“Such arrows come from that pretty mouth. What will I do with you?” He says with a smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“You could pick your flavors for the day and move on? There’s an idea.”

“Ooh, and the sass. I’m already practically in love with you, you don’t have to try so hard, love.” He says, turning to the case. “Do you still have that one with the marshmallow in the middle? Ryan really liked those ones.”

You pause, taking a look inside the case to check, “I don’t anymore, those were limited. But tell Ryan I'll make a special batch just for him.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. We’ll do the chocolate peanut butter then. Those are a close second.” He says, mirroring your words from the first day he stepped foot in your bakery. You box up the order, and make your way to the counter. He hands you his normal black credit card, but when he goes to pick up the box, you stop him.

“No. Send Ryan in here to get them” You say, pulling the box back towards you.

“I beg your pardon, love?”

“Oh, don’t beg yet. There’s plenty of time for that later..” You smirk, “I just want to properly meet Ryan without your.. Influence.”

“Anything you want.” Harry states, making his way to the door. “See you tomorrow, Love.”

You can see Harry telling Ryan what’s going on. Ryan looks ever so confused, and maybe even a little anxious as he makes his way inside.

“Hello, Ryan. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you. I’m Y/N.” You say, holding your hand out.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Miss Y/N.” He says, taking your hand in his and giving you a delicate shake. “Your creations are delicious. Stopping here is the highlight of my day, as well as Mr. Styles out there, He quite enjoys your company.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You say, picking up a marker. You pull the box towards you once more, writing a note on top before sliding it back to Ryan on the other side. “Have a great day, Ryan. See you tomorrow.”

“You as well, Miss Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He says, making a swift exit.

Staring out the shop window after him, you see him hand Harry the box. Harry’s eyes immediately take in the note you left on top.

“Pick me up after we close at 6 tonight, Mr. Styles.” You signed with your phone number at the bottom. You can see his smile from here. It’s so contagious even Ryan starts to smile. Even YOU start to smile.

Unknown: very cheeky, love. See you tonight.

You: you shouldn't have expected anything less. See you tonight, Mr. Styles. What should I wear?

Harry: I honestly expected a little more from you. But, I accept your defeat.

Harry: And I’ll take care of everything, Love.

You: Defeat? Hold on there just a minute, mister. I haven’t lost anything.

Harry: I remember a certain “When pigs fly” phrase coming from your mouth. I told you I always get what I want. See you tonight, Love

"Shit. What did I agree to? Should I cancel? Should I close early and hide somewhere? Well then what excuse would I have when he comes in tomorrow? I could tell him I’ve got a case of food poisoning? Or a migraine?"

Just as your thoughts begin to spiral for the umpteenth time in your downtime, the bell on the door chimes. You look up to see Carly, holding a garment bag, and Jesse standing behind her.

“Uh, what are you two doing here?” You say, confusion very evident on your face. “Jesse aren’t you supposed to be like three hours away in some lecture hall?”

“Oh sure, just question why he’s not where he’s supposed to be.” Carly says, laced with a fake offended tone.

“Bitch, did you forget I went to college with you? I know you’re prone to play hooky every now and then.”

“Okay, fair.” She laughs, “But, I received a phone call so I’m doing my end of a deal I made.”

“Same here.” Jesse says from behind her. “I’m here to take over and close up for you.”

“And I’m here to help you get ready!” Carly erupts with excitement. “I’m so excited for you.”

“Wait a second, what deal?” Now you’re even more confused.

“Ah, can’t reveal anything else. Now, upstairs you two go. I got my own date with one of these cookies and cream cupcakes as my reward for helping you get laid.” Jesse says, guiding both of you to the staircase.

“Jesse!”

“Have the best time!” He says before closing the door behind you.

Carly refused to explain anything to you, other than she was given directions to be at your place to start helping you get ready at 4:30 pm sharp. She was just doing what she was told.

“Stop it.” She says, starting to remove the curlers from your hair.. “I know that look. You’re going to have a great time. He’s already head over heels for you. I can tell.”

“That’s what I’m scared of, Carls. I’m so scared.” You whisper. “I don’t know how to accept love anymore.”

“You accept my love. Jesse’s love. Mr. Henry’s. I know it’s different when it’s a romantic situation, but you’ve gotta have a little faith, babe.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It’s not easy, but that’s what makes it worth it.”

“What if he ends up being just like Jackson?”

“Don’t you see how different he is from him already? He’s made all of this effort just today. He made sure I was out of work. He made sure Jesse was here on time, when Jesse’s supposed to be at school. He literally had an outfit picked up for you, Y/N. Jackson would never include me in a date plan, let alone plan anything with this level of thought behind it. I don’t even think he’s capable of deep thought, but that’s just my opinion.”

“Jackson never planned anything beyond a dinner reservation.” You half laughed. “See what I mean! I know you’re scared, babe, I know. It’s scary being vulnerable. It’s so scary. But it can be so rewarding. But you have to at least try. You won’t get anywhere if you don’t try.”

“But what’s so wrong with being alone?”

“Don’t even start with me right now. I love you, but I will kick your ass.” She says, totally serious.

“Okaaaay, jeez. I get it.”

“Good. Now, bring me your face.” She says, setting your makeup on the counter.

You never thought you’d be walking out your apartment door to meet a man you face planted into in a parking lot. For a date!

You see him leaning against the building opposite yours, dressed in a more casual outfit than you’re used to seeing him in. But you swear you might just prefer this look. His outfit compliments yours; the detailed color in the sun dress he picked out for you emulates the color of his sweater. He’s got his sunglasses pushed atop his head, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other hand holding his phone; and a bouquet of yellow tulips tucked under his arm. He looks divine. The casual sexiness just drips off of him.

“Well hello there, stranger. I almost didn’t recognize you.” You say, causing him to look up from his screen.

“I’m sor- woah.” He clears his throat. “You look.. Wow.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it. I guess I still got it.”

“I don’t think you could ever lose it, Love.” He says, sauntering over to you. Grabbing the flowers from under his arm, he extends them to you, “For you, milady.”

“Okay, seriously, which one of them told you everything about me?” You say, taking the bouquet from his grasp. “Yellow tulips have always been my favorite.”

He smiles down at you. “I would never throw your friends under the bus like that. But they all do love to talk about your interests and seem to have your best ones at heart.”

“They do. I appreciate them so much.” You say quietly. “Thank you. Let me put these inside real fast and we can go.”

“I’ll be right here, Love.” He says, kissing your hand before you walk away. You immediately felt your cheeks get warm.

You step inside the bakery and see Jesse standing at the counter with a vase of water.

“Oh, so you knew about these too? You’re the mole, huh? Do you know everything related to tonight?” You say, setting the flowers inside the vase.

Jesse looks at you with a smile and pretends to lock his mouth and throw away the key.

“I hate you.” You say walking back to the front door. “Thank you, Jesse. For everything.”

“You know I always got you, girl. Have a great time.”

“So, where are we going?”

“Ah, that would spoil the surprise.” Harry says, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. “But I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy what I’ve got planned.”

“Cutting me up and spreading the parts out across a fifty mile radius?”

“You’re a little morbid, you know that?” he chuckles softly

“So I’ve been told. Does that bother you?” you’re grinning at him.

“What do you think?” He smirks at you, sliding his hand over to rest on your knee.

The car comes to a stop outside a brick building. “Pottery Painting Class Tonight 8-9pm” Reads on the small marquee board.

“Okay now I know you talked to Carly.” You say excitedly as he helps you out of the car, “I’ve always wanted to do one of these!”

“I had a feeling.” He chuckles. “We are a little early, but there's a diner I love across the street. Come,” He says, holding his hand out to you. You gladly take it and begin to walk hand in hand to your destination.

Settling into a corner booth, your waitress comes and takes your drink order before leaving you to look over the menu. She returns and you let Harry order for you since you were stuck on two options.

“So, what made you finally cave?” He inquires, a heavy smirk upon his face.

“First of all, I didn’t cave. I figured if you’re going to kill me, I might as well get a date out of it.” You quip, leaning your chin onto your hand.

“Always so quick with the comebacks.” He teases. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that this time around, but there’s always next time.”

“You think there’s going to be a next time?” Your eyebrow raises, a smirk tugging on your lips

“Oh, I know it.” He states without even thinking about it.

“I do have a few questions for you, though.” You say, your tone somewhat serious.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“You don’t even know me.” You start, “Well, besides what you got out of my friends. You ran into me one day, and then just started showing up out of nowhere. Which doesn't make sense to me either. How did you find me?” Your tone started to seem kind of accusatory. You don’t even let him answer before you start again, “Don’t get me wrong, I love the daily business, but it just seems too calculated to me. It’s been plaguing my brain since the first day you walked in my shop. So, Why me, Harry?”

“I know how weird this all seems, and I profusely apologize for making it seem like my intentions were anything other than good.” He starts, reaching his hand across the table, his way of asking for yours. You hesitantly oblige. “But I will explain everything to you from my point of view, if you’ll allow me.” He says, thumb gliding over the back of your hand.

“Well yeah, I’m here aren’t I?” You smirk at him. “But, I’m also here because you got a stamp of approval from my entire peanut gallery. So be grateful to them.”

“I’ll be sure to send them a thank you card.” He says. “But let me start from the beginning, Love.”

Harry had just arrived at the stadium. Head coach Johnson requested his presence to show Harry just how far their dead last draft pick Jackson Cole had been improving. Harry was less than thrilled when his decision was overruled when it came to drafting Cole, he wanted a different pick from the University of Miami, but they went with majority ruling and thus here we are.

So needless to say, Harry didn’t really want to be here right now, but he knew it wouldn’t take too much of his time. Watch the kid throw the ball a few times and gauge his performance from that. Or so he thought,

“Are you kidding me? Star quarterback kid forgot his practice bag? His practice bag, for the championship game he should be grateful he’s even getting the chance to play in, since my first string is out with a torn ligament? Why am I here wasting my time?” Harry states, business mode turned all the way up to ten.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. He says his girlfriend is on the way with the bag.”

“If the bag isn’t here in ten minutes, I’m leaving. And something will be done about this.” He says, pulling his phone from his pocket.

The ten minutes pass, and Harry’s irritation rises. He stands from his seat in Johnson’s office and turns to Ryan on his right, “Call for the car, we’re leaving.” Looking to Johnson sitting behind his desk, he points at him, “We’ll be looking to extinguish your contract. If you can’t get your players to remember their gear, why would I think you can get them to remember plays?”

“Mr. Styles, I plead with you to thin-” He’s cut off by the sounds of yelling in the hallway.

All three men make their way out the door to see what the commotion was all about.

“You have got to be the definition of ungrateful. For the greater part of two years I have given you everything and you still think you can talk to me like that?” Harry hears from down the hall.

He turns and sees Cole’s back facing him, and just over his shoulder he sees a woman. A woman with tears in her eyes and shock and terror all over her face.

“Is that your star quarterback over there, verbally abusing that woman?” Harry inquires, turning to Johnson. “I swear on your life, i will remove you from this office myself if that boy over there causes any kind of uproar in the media, Do i make myself clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” Johnson says, fear laced in his voice.

Harry turns back towards the scene unfolding before him, but the woman was gone.

“Mr. Styles, the car is up front.” Ryan pipes up from behind him.

“Right, let’s go then. Don’t make me repeat myself, Johnson.” He says before they take off.

“Wait a second, you were there for that?” You question him. He nods, picking up a french fry.

“I was. I heard the whole thing. Right pissed me off. I wish I would have stepped in instead of threatening Johnson.” His jaw ticks.

“You don’t really seem like you could have that kind of scary demeanor.”

“I only show it to people that need to see it.” He says matter of factly. “But, you don’t get very far in business without being like that. At least sometimes. But outside of my business, I’m nothing like that. Unless you want me to be.” He smirks at you.

You blush, but a realization comes into your head, “Hold on, I completely just let this go over my head. Who are you, exactly, Harry?”

He smiles. “I was waiting for this. I’m the majority owner for the team, Love.” Your face goes pale.

Wait. Huh?? The Owner? This is the owner you embarrassed Jackson in front of?

“Jackson said I embarrassed him in front of you that day.” You say, looking down at the table.

Harry laughs, “If anybody embarrassed Jackson, it was Jackson. What grown ass man forgets his work gear? This is his job after all. And, who then verbally assaults the person who brings it to him? In front of everyone, nonetheless.”

He takes in the frown on your face, and decides to shift the direction of the conversation. “You really had no idea who I was this whole time.” He says, more of a statement than a question.

“Was I supposed to?” You respond quietly, still not sure what to do with this information.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I’m honestly more surprised than anything.” He says, holding his hands up like he's pre-defending himself, “And i don't mean this in any kind of derogatory way against you, but normally I have women lie, saying they don’t know me to get closer to me. But you really had no idea this whole time. It’s honestly refreshing.”

“You seem really full of yourself.” You say, taking a bite of your pancakes.

“There’s a fine line between confident and cocky, and I know how to keep myself on the right side. But, let me continue.” He says before continuing his story.

Harry made his way out of the elevator with his band of associates behind him. Ryan was giving him the run down of his next meeting as they walked to the car.

“We have a 1:30 pm meeting with Lyons, but I can resche-” Ryan is cut off by the sound of Harry huffing.

“Woah there love, I gotcha.” It's her. It’s the woman Cole was belittling. She looks so.. sad. I should offer to do so-

“Sorry. You can let go now.” Nice one, Styles.

“My apologies, Love.”

“Don’t call me that.” She says, rolling her eyes at the man before her.

He continues to recount your first meeting exactly as you remember it. He throws in the detail of asking Ryan to look into you, wanting to be fully transparent with you.

“So you knew who I was before this? How is that fair?”

“I suppose it’s not, but I only requested your name and where you worked. I didn’t want to learn anything else before I heard it from you.”

“Say’s the guy who made a ‘deal’ with all of my friends in order to get me here today.” You chuckle.

“Okay, fair. But in my defense, how you take your coffee, what your favorite flower is, and something you’d be interested in doing for a date isn’t entirely sensitive information, Love.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Styles. I happen to take my interests and passions very seriously. These are very sensitive topics.”

“I’ll gladly discuss any sensitive topic you’d like, Love. But perhaps we should save that for when we’re alone, no? Unless you’re into that.” He teases.

“You know, Harry, I just might have met my match with these comebacks of yours, and I don't appreciate being threatened.”

“Is that a challenge?” He says, leaning closer to you across the table.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” you say, matching his movements.

Just as he’s about to seal the deal, his phone buzzes letting him know your class is about to start across the street.

“Ah, but I guess that will have to wait until later.” You say, standing from your seat.

Harry ran his hand along his face, covering his mouth and breathed out a laugh. “This girl.” He thinks. He takes your hand after throwing more than enough cash down on the table, and you make your way back to the brick building that will be housing your date for the evening.

Throughout the course of the rest of your date, you learn more about Harry. He’s 30. His favorite color is orange. “Wait no blue. No, orange. Orange.” He’s an Aquarius, though he swears he doesn’t understand why that’s relevant. He was born in England but moved here when he was 22 to run the US branch of his company. He has his hands and feet in all kinds of different baskets. He’s in the market of construction, publishing, restaurants, real estate; you name it. He’s worked every single day since the day he graduated and he’s turned his business into what it is today. His successful business is what made it possible to be the majority owner of the team Jackson plays for. His parents and sister are still back in England and he misses them terribly, but he travels back as often as he can to see them. Especially now that he’s an uncle! He loves all sports, but American football just really spoke to him. He says soccer is his second favorite. Or the true football according to him.

“But why did you decide to pursue me so intricately? I was so rude to you both of the first real times we spoke.” You question, sweeping your paintbrush across the teapot you chose.

He ponders for a split second, “I got fixated with how it made me feel inside to be the one to make you smile” He says without looking up from the bowl that he chose to paint. “Plus, I saw your disdain for me as a challenge. And I love a challenge.” He smirks, still not looking up at you.

You stare at him in awe, taking in how his brows furrowed together in concentration. He answered you with such an easiness in his tone. “I just don’t know how someone like you could be interested in someone like me.”

“How could I not?” He says, finally looking up at you. ”You’re so determined, and incredibly talented. You’re undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. But you looked so broken and exhausted when I saw you for the first time at the stadium. It broke my heart. I wanted to do everything in my power from that moment on to put a real smile back on your face. I didn’t know you then, but I wanted to. I wanted to take all the pain you were feeling away. That’s all I know.” He says, setting his brush down.

You thoroughly enjoyed yourself tonight and you probably told Harry how much fun you had about 13 times in the time it took him to drive you home. It made his heart swell to know he’d made you so happy tonight. Harry walked you to your apartment door, before turning you to face him, his hands finding purchase on your lower back.

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Love,” He says, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear; his touch ghosting your skin, giving you goosebumps.

You roll your eyes. “You won’t ever let up with that nickname, will you?”

“Never. Not when I get this reaction out of you.” He smirks, looking down at your lips. “May i?”

You don’t even hesitate before you nod. He immediately leans down and covers your lips with his. The feeling of warmth, and desire seeps into every pore across your entire body. His kiss feels like everything you’ve ever longed for. You feel safe. You feel at home. A feeling you hadn’t felt since you were twenty years old and lost the only two people you had left you were willing to call biological family. He made you feel alive again.

“Mm, exactly how I imagined.” He says in between rushed kisses, lips moving perfectly in sync.

“You imagined this?” You say breathlessly.

“Only every second of every. fucking. day, Love.” He says after he reluctantly pulls away. “But, I need to stop myself before I get too excited. I want this to be right.”

You shake your head, “You’re just fine.” You say before cupping both of his cheeks and capturing his lips with yours once more. “This is just right.”

“As much as I want this with you right now, we shouldn’t.” He’s gripping your wrists and gently pulling them from his face. “You have no idea how bad I want this.”

“So let’s go upstairs.” You say, trying to free your arms from his grasp.

“Love, look at me.” He says, now grabbing the sides of your neck to angle your head up at him again. “I want nothing more than to take you upstairs and give you everything you deserve.” You’re nodding along with his words, a desperate smile on your face. “But I want to take my time with you. Will you let me take my time with you and do this right?” He asks, sliding his hands up and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“I guess so.” You say, voice echoing disappointment.

“Hey, none of that. I’ll take care of you soon, I promise. But for now, I want you to take your cute butt upstairs, and call your friends. I’m sure they’re all waiting to hear how much fun you had tonight. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Harry.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Good girl,” He says, making your breath hitch and cheeks flush. “Now, Up you go. He says, not before pressing one last kiss to your pouty lips.

“See you tomorrow?” You say, turning towards him one last time.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Love.” He waits until he hears your door close behind you before making his way back to his car. He feels his phone vibrate in the cup holder.

You: Thank you for tonight, Mr. Styles. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Harry: The pleasure was all mine, Love. I would enjoy doing that again with you sometime soon.

You: Whenever you want, Harry.

Harry: Ah, I did mention getting what I want, didn't I? How about this weekend? Saturday after you close? I’ll pick you up.

You: It’s a date. Goodnight, Harry.

Harry: Goodnight, Love.

Throwing yourself down on your bed you call Carly. Of course she’s answering on the first ring because she’s as nosy as the rest of us. “GIRL YOU BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING!” She says as soon as the lines connect.

“Why else would I be calling? I have so much to tell you!” You recount the night's events to her with as much detail as you can. Although that doesn’t stop her from trying to pry for more.

“What do you mean he rejected you? I am so confused.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. He just wants to ‘take things slow and do this properly’ as he said in his fancy accent.” You tell her.

“What a gentleman.” Carly muses. “I want one.” She huffs through the phone. “Is Ryan single?”

Saturday’s business hours come and go before you can even process them. I mean, you did close two hours early to get ready but you still didn’t think you weren’t that close to your date with Harry.

Although, you haven’t seen Harry yet today. Ryan is the one who stopped in at lunch time. Ryan claimed it was because Harry was taking care of some business he needed to attend to before your date tonight. Harry told Ryan to make sure you didn’t worry, that you were still on for tonight and that he was sorry he couldn’t be there today. You made your way upstairs and began your getting ready process. Which included a hot shower, exfoliating, shaving every inch.. You know, the everything shower. Carly asked if you wanted her to help you again, but you declined; wanting to take your time with your self care.

Checking your phone for the hundredth time this hour, you finally get the message you’ve been waiting for.

Harry: I’m on my way, love. Can’t wait to see you.

You felt immediate goosebumps all over and butterflies in your stomach. “Oh god.” You think. “I already like him. maybe too much.” You could hear Carly scolding you now, “Bitch, knock it off. You’ve been miserable for long enough.” You think maybe she's right.

Harry’s there to pick you up at 6 pm on the dot. His black Range Rover settled behind him as he watches you make your way across the street. He reaches his hand out for you to grab once you’re close enough and he pulls you to stand between his legs, hands settling on your hips.

“Hello, Love.” He smiles down at you, eyes peering over his expensive sunglasses.

“Ello, govna. Fancy a date wiff meh?” You choke out, in your worst accent possible. He chokes on his own spit at that.

“Oh my g-, what was that?” he says, unable to hold his laughter.

“I thought I'd give your accent a shot.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s a good thing you’re talented in other areas, love, because impressions are not your strong suit.” He says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Shall we go, then?” He says, nodding towards his car.

“We shall.” You let him guide you around the car and open your door for you. (Jackson would never btw) He makes his way back around before sliding into his seat and taking off.

Your second date ensues without a hitch. He took you to a record store! He perused the entire store with you for hours. You both showed each other different albums and explained what they meant to you. He showed you his favorite Pink Floyd record and you showed him your favorite band's sophomore album that had gotten you through some really dark times. He kept eye contact with you and nodded along with your words, expressing his condolences for you having to experience so much already in your life. The fact that he even remembered you mentioning you enjoy vinyl hunting had you sure of one thing, you’re certain you like this man more than you should. And you’re terrified. But in the best way.

Harry gets you home around 10 pm, and walks to your door again.

“I would like to ask you a pretty important question.” Harry states, placing the palm of his hand against your cheek. You lean into his touch and nod, letting him know to continue. “I know this is rather sudden, but I would like to start seeing you. Officially, I mean.” Maneuvering his hands to tilt your face towards him, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Call you mine.” The other cheek. “Make you happy.” Now your forehead. “Treat you with the utmost respect, like you deserve.” He kisses your nose. “Will you let me do that, sweet girl?” He pauses, gauging your reaction.

You nod your head like a mad woman, a massive smile on your face, “Oh god, yes!.” You say. And it feels like an entire weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You never imagined all those months ago that you’d be standing here with your handsome stranger agreeing to start a relationship with him. Who are you? What have you done with Y/N? Is Y/N even in the room with us?

Harry smiles a smile that can only be described as.. painful looking. “My sweet girl, gonna treat you so well. The way you deserve. Been waiting months for this.” He says, pressing his lips to yours. You reach your hands up, tangling them in his soft curls, and pull yourself to your tippy toes, attempting to meet his height. “Please,” You whisper against his lips before kissing him again. He leans down over you, trying to pull you as close to him as possible. “Please what, sweet girl?” He teases, “Gotta use your words for me, pretty.” He says, tilting your head back and placing featherlight kisses along your jawline, heading towards your right ear and taking your lobe into his mouth.

“Oh my god, Harry–Fuck.” You groan out. “Please, don’t make me wait again.” You plead, pulling his lips back to yours.

“Is my girl sure this is what she wants? I thought we agreed to take this slow.” He teases again.

“I changed my mind! Please, Harry. Please.” You plead, making him chuckle.

“Who am i to deny you, Love.” He says.

You clumsily make your way upstairs, the both of you too damn stubborn to attempt to break your kiss. Layers of clothing are shed as you make your way into your bedroom. He pauses one more time at the end of your bed, both of you only left in your underwear, “Are you sure about this Love? We can stop right now and it wouldn’t change anything.” You shake your head and push him down, straddling his lap. “I seem to remember a promise you made about taking me upstairs and giving me everything I deserve. I’m waiting for that promise to be kept, Mr. Styles.”

“Well then, allow me to demonstrate.” He says, flipping you both over so you were under him, eliciting a shriek of laughter from you.

1.2.1 (please mind the tags before you read!)

A couple months have passed and it’s cold out again. Harry’s been making good on his promise to treat you well, treat you how you deserve. He still makes his daily stops to get his cupcake and drop your coffee off, and he makes sure to give you the dozens of kisses you demand before he’s allowed to leave. You feel like a different person; you would never be caught dead showing this level of affection to a partner, let alone in a semi public setting. All of your friends are so immensely proud of you, but nobody says anything lest to make you feel embarrassed. Harry claims the title of your biggest fan and your number one supporter. Although he and Carly like to “argue” over that title. You were thrilled to finally have a relationship where your boyfriend and your best friend actually got along.

When Mr. Henry stopped in the day after your first date, you feigned ignorance.

“Good morning, dear. How was your evening?” He inquires, a smirk evident on the elderly man's face.

“Eh, it was pretty boring. I tried out this new recipe for a chocolate ganache to put on a cake. Turned out pretty well. I’m kind of excited.” You say, boxing up his normal order, plus some extras as a thank you for him to find later.

“What do you mean? I thought yo-, wait a minute. You’re being a smart ass aren’t you?” He asks, brows furrowing together.

“What was your end of the deal? I already got it out of the other two. What’s your excuse, huh?” You tease him.

“You little shit. Haha, alright. You got me there. I didn’t agree to get anything in return. There isn’t anything he could give me that I need, dear. I have all I could ever need right here.” He motions to you and Rocco. “I just wanted you to have a chance to be truly happy, like I got to be. I want you to find someone to eat peanut butter cookies for after they're gone. That’s all I asked for from him in return. He said he would do his best to make me proud. And I believe him, dear.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can even process what’s happening.

“Well, now I didn't tell you that to make you cry.” Mr. Henry picks up a napkin and hands it to you, “I’ve told you before, no time for that. You’ve got cookies to sell.”

Jesse has returned from school again for winter break. He’s been keeping tabs on you while he’s been gone though. He was so excited for you when you informed him you and Harry were officially an item.

“Yeah, and you tried telling me you weren’t interested in him.” He says, spinning a rose nail between his fingers like you taught him.

“Ooh, see! now, twist it back and start where you left off.” You said, encouraging his progress. “Ya know, Jesse, I never claimed to be perfect.” You joke.

“I know, girl. I’m just glad you’re letting yourself be happy again. It right hurt my heart to see you so sad. Mr. Henry and I were about to start scheming together.” He picks the rose up off the nail, and sets it down where you have it marked on top of the cake.

“I think all of you did plenty of scheming, don’t you?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Okay, you got me there. But can you blame us?”

“I suppose not.” You say checking the time on your phone. “Hey, Harry asked me to make his cupcake drop at the stadium. Are you okay if I run these to him real fast? I’ll be back in no time at all.”

“Go on, girl. I got this. Go get your man.” Jesse says, starting another rose on the nail. “Still can’t believe you bagged a team owner. Badass — seriously.”

You make the drive to the stadium and you’re surprised to see the team in the parking lot doing drills. You don’t think anything of it and pull into one of Harry’s parking spots near the gate like he told you to do. Gathering your various items, you step out of your car and turn to close the door.

“What are you doing here?” You hear behind you. Jackson.

“Mm, I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” You huff before continuing on your way.

“We haven’t been together for nearly a year, I have no desire to see you here.” Jackson says, rather angrily, following hot on your trail.

“Well, it's a good thing I’m not here to see you. So if you’ll excuse me.” You make a hasty exit from the conversation and let your feet carry you to Harry’s office.

“Hello, my love.” Harry says upon your entrance. “What do you have for me today?”

You half smile at him, “Um, there’s a cookies and cream for you, and the marshmallow filled for Ryan.” You say, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He inquires from his seat.

You nod, even though it’s a lie. He shakes his head at you. “Come here, Love.” he says motioning for you to join him on his side of the desk. He pulls you to sit in front of him on the desk, he cages you in with his arms “Now, you know I don’t like dishonesty, Love.” He starts, “What’s bothering you?”

“I hate that you can read me like a book.” you mumble, your eyes beginning to well with tears.

“Mm, Have been able to since the beginning. Are you gonna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“It’s just Jackson.” You mumble, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

“Did he say something to you?” Harry says, his tone serious now.

“No! I mean — kind of. The guys were all in the parking lot doing drills and when he saw me, he asked why i was here, I told him it was none of his business, and then he told me he didn’t want me here.”

“I hope you gave that punk an earful.” He says, running his palms over the tops of your clothed thighs..

“I told him that it was a good thing I wasn't here to see him, and to excuse me.” You said, recounting what happened.

“Good girl. That works too. I’ll deal with him. Wanted him gone a long time ago”

“No, please, just leave it be. I don’t want to give him a reason to hate me even more. He still scares me. I didn’t recognize him that night. H-he grabbed my face and told me I n-needed to be m-more obedient to him. Please don’t make it any w-worse, Harry, please,” You plead tears beginning to stream down your face.

“Woah, pretty, let's calm down, yeah?.” He coos, pulling you off of the desk and onto his lap. He rubs soothing circles on your back and guides your breathing. “It’s okay, my sweet girl. Nobody can hurt you. I’ve got you, baby. Everything will be okay.”

Harry holds you for a while longer while he continues to do some of his work at his desk. He glances down at his watch, taking in the time. “I’m sorry, Love, I’ve got a meeting in 15, I would cancel again but that would be three times in a row.” You sit up slowly before you say, “Oh, it’s alright. I’ve gotta get back to Jesse.” He tucks your hair behind your ears and kisses you softly. “Will you be alright getting back? Should I send Ryan with you?

“No, I’ll be okay. Will I see you tonight?” You inquire, standing from his hold.

“Well, of course. I expect my nightly dose of attitude when I get there, too.” He says before giving a light pinch to your ass, making you squeal. “Let me know once you’ve made it back, my love.”

“Yes, sir.” You mumble out and you swear you almost hear Harry groan.

“Keep it up, sweetheart. You might like what happens.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You make your way to the door and he opens it for you, letting you step into the hallway before him. You’re trying to be cute when you attempt to leave without a proper goodbye, but he isn’t having any of that. Harry reaches out and spins you to face him, arms immediately wrapping around your frame, making you giggle.

“And just where do you think you’re going without my ‘see you later’ kiss, hm?” He inquires.

”I’m sorry, who are you?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Oh, baby, allow me to remind you.” And he's kissing you again, making you whimper, but not for long before he’s pulling away.

“Nooo, one more.” you plead, chasing his lips with yours.

“Who are you begging for a kiss from a stranger? Naughty girl.” He teases, making you giggle again. “Off you go, my love. I’ll see you tonight.” and he sends you on your way.

You begin to make your way to your car, unaware of the following eyes. You start to hear the echo of footsteps behind you, so you peer over your shoulder and see Jackson at the end of the hall trailing behind you. You panic and begin to speed walk the last bit to your car before locking your doors once inside.

“You know, I thought you were pathetic, but this is ridiculous.” You hear through your driver side window.

“Go away, Jackson.”

“How long have you been fucking him? Huh? How long have you been plotting this? Was this your plan all along? Sleep your way up the football hierarchy? I gotta say, you made one hell of a jump; quarterback to owner? Damn girl. Could’ve at least started with an offensive coordinator, or one of the coaches.” His words were coming at you so fast.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you wanted me first, remember?” You say, starting your car.

“You’re a right bitch, you know that? He’ll realize it soon enough and leave you in the dust like I did.”

“Did you literally forget that I’m the one who left you, genius?” You said before backing out, and pulling away.

Jackson stood and watched your car leave the parking lot, a scheme brewing in his big ass head. “I’ve got just the way to make you crumble, princess, don’t worry.” He says, laughing to himself before making his way back into the stadium.

Christmas is coming, really fast. Like in three days fast. You realize you have nothing for anybody besides Jesse. You’d gotten him a figurine of his favorite character from his favorite anime. With the promise to Jesse of as many cupcakes as he wanted, you asked him if he’d cover by himself for a few hours while you attempted to get something for Harry, Carly, Mr. Henry, Rocco, and Ryan of course. Jesse of course accepted, settling on the idea of continuing his cake decorating. You dress yourself for the cold and make your way to the mall you know has everything.

Carly, Mr. Henry, and Rocco are all very easy to shop for. Carly loves wine, makeup, and the show Sex & The City. Mr. Henry always enjoys extra cookies of course, but you also like to get him a new set of cold gear every year. He wears them until they’re worn out until the next Christmas. He says he always appreciates it because his wife used to do the same, and that it really makes him feel cared for. That man just loves to make you cry by being sweet, and then tell you to knock it off for crying. You can't ever win with him. Rocco of course loves a good treat bag and a new toy. But you always make sure to get him a doggy scarf to match with Mr. Henry’s.

You’d even surprisingly found something for Ryan, well two things. One of them is just a tie in a very specific color he mentioned liking, and the other is a pen that makes a sound when he clicks the top. It says “Yes, Mr. Styles.” in Ryan’s voice. You swore you’ve heard Ryan say those words more than you’ve heard him say anything else. Makes sense since he is Harry’s right hand man. But now, here we are. Nothing for arguably the most important person.

Taking out your phone on your journey back to your car, you tap on his contact. He answers the phone on the second ring. ”Hi, sweet girl. You okay?”

You giggle, “Of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?” Reaching your car, you set your bags in the trunk and slide into the driver's seat.

“Well, you never have time to call me in the middle of the day, so I thought something might be wrong.” He says, his voice seeming calmer now.

“Oh, yeah, I’m out shopping. I guess I actually do kind of need your help.” You make his heart rate pick up at him hearing you needing him for something. He knew how hard asking for help was for you, no matter how small the act in question was, so he was proud of you.

“I’m all ears, baby. What can I do for you?”

You hesitate for a moment, “What is something you think you’d like for christmas?”

You can hear him sigh a laugh through the phone. “Baby, I don’t need anything from you. I have all I could ever need. You gave me everything the day you agreed to be mine.”

His words make you tear up, but your bratty side still takes over 99% of the time. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?” You say, tone feigning attitude.

“Mm, sometimes my girlfriend does when she’s pretending to be pissed at me.” He quips back at you.

“She sounds like a handful.”

“She’s many things, but never that.” He’s doing that thing again where he talks about how easy it is to love you. “She thinks her words are sharp enough to cut.” He starts again, “But I think she’s just deflecting.”

“I hate you.” You whisper, but he can hear your smile through the phone.

“Are you sure about that, Love?

“Yes, you still didn’t answer my question. I asked what you wanted, not what you needed.” Attempting to steer the conversation from where it was going.. But that didn’t work out very well.

“Sweet girl, I don’t think you want me to tell you what I want over the phone when I know what I’d tell you would leave you an achy mess for the rest of the day.” there’s not a single ounce of hesitation in his voice.

“Like you’d pass up an opportunity to make me squirm.” You say, a real attitude prevalent in your tone. Since he wants to go there.

“Is that a challenge? I can start listing all the ways I plan on making you squirm once I get my hands on you. You want that?”

“Y-yes.” You breathe out. Until you realize you’re sitting in your car. Sitting in your car in a public parking lot. Y/N, get a grip. “I mean, n-no. No. Stop distracting me.” You clear your throat. “Tell me something you want for Christmas, I’m serious Harry.”

“You really want to know?” He says quietly, but you know that voice.

“Nope. Bye.” You say hanging up on him. You knew exactly where that was going. He immediately calls you back but you send him to voicemail. Putting your car in drive, you take off after the perfect idea popped into your head. You just hoped this place still had what you were looking for. Harry’s still trying to call you but you’ve turned on DND. You start to get excited wondering what his reaction will be to that.

Making your way back to the bakery, you’d called Jesse ahead of time requesting his help with the big box while you got the bags. “Where do you want this box?” He asks walking in after you.

“Would you mind taking it upstairs? Pretty pleaaaase?” You say, setting your bags on the counter.

“You got it, girl. Be right ba-, wait, keys? Oh, I see them. Be right back.”

You turn to see the cake he was working on, thoroughly impressed by his progress. His roses are damn near perfect at this point. Now if he could just get some not dude looking handwriting, he’ll be golden! You’re turning the cake to check out the other side when the doorbell chimes. Without taking your eyes off the cake you begin to speak, “Welcome in, give me just one second.” Lifting your hands up you begin to slide the cake off of the lazy susan before turning to place the cake in the cooler. But when you turn around, you’re met with Jackson; standing at your bakery counter with a blue folder in his hand, and a devious smile on his face. He has you cornered. And Jesse is still upstairs. The cake falls from your hands right onto the floor in front of your feet.

“I finally have a way to make you pay for what you did to my career, you football ladder climbing slut.” He sneers at you, waving the folder back and forth.

“I-I d-don’t, wh-what?”

“You. You ruined me when you left.”

“I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t say anything about you. I don’t even think I unfollowed you for heaven's sake, Jackson.” You say getting louder, hoping Jesse will hear and come back down. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’ve played like shit since you left. You fucked with my head and I haven’t played the same.”

“I fucked with your head? You’re joking right?”

“Dead serious, princess. As serious as this folder right here. Here, this is your copy anyways." He says, sliding your bags off the counter, sending the limited edition Pink Floyd album that you had just bought Harry for Christmas onto the floor. Completely shattering it. The album was a first edition pressing from 1975 when the album came out. Harry wouldn’t let you buy it for him the night of your first date. “Haven’t got a turntable, Love. I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it properly.” But that’s what Jesse was taking upstairs. You’d bought him a turntable and his first record. That was now shattered on the floor. “Oops.” Jackson says, feigning an apology.

“What do you want, Jackson?” You say, snatching the folder from his hand.

“I now own this entire building, and you have one week to get all of your shit and get the fuck out.” He says, inching closer to you over the counter.

Your eyes widen. “W-what, what the fuck are you talking about? Jesse! Jesse, come back, please!” You scream, flipping through the pages of the folder.

“Jesse, come back, please!” Jackson mocks you. “Jesse can’t do shit.” but that's when Jesse comes barreling down the stairs.

“Ah ah ah, pretty boy. I will own everything you own in the matter of seconds once you lay a finger on me. Let me explain to the both of you — since you demanded an audience — how this works.” He says, sauntering over to the table by the window and plopping down in the chair. “You own this business, not the building.” That is true. Your business is a part of a strip of brick buildings and they all have apartments above them. You paid rent every month like everyone else did along the strip. “The building was owned by Jeff Walker, who just so happened to get a pretty nice cash offer from yours truly. And now I’m the owner. How does that make you feel, princess? You wanna sleep with me again now that I own something?”

His words make you want to vomit. You’re thankful Harry has never called you princess.

“Dude, get out of here. Don’t make me call the cops.” Jesse says, stepping in front of the counter.

“Oh, I’m not staying. Just gotta let my tenants know who their new landlord is. You got a week, princess. And you’re out.” He says, flinging the door open before leaving.

You’re frozen. You’re staring at the papers saying Jackson owns your building, and you’re frozen. You can’t move. You can’t think. You almost can't even breathe. You don’t even hear Jesse calling your name. Not until he grips your shoulders and shakes you.

“Y/N, come on, come back to me.” He pleads. But you’re sinking to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. He panics. Looking in your bag, he grabs your phone and calls Harry.

“Oh, now you want to continue what you started earlier? I see how you are, Naughty girl.” Harry says when he answers the phone.

“Look man, I’ll pretend like i didn’t hear that if you please get to Y/N’s shop as soon as you possibly can.”

“Did something happen? What’s wrong?” Panic rising in Harry’s tone.

“Jackson was here, there’s some folder. I don–, just get here, please. She needs you.”

“Fuck, Okay. I am on my way right now. Thank you for calling me, Jesse. Tell her I’ll be there soon.”

Jesse gets down on the floor with you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Hey, you’re good. Harry’s on his way, alright?”

Harry gets to your shop in record time. Pushing the door open and rushing inside like his life depended on it. “Baby? Where are you?” he asks, not seeing anybody.

“We’re down here!” Jesse claims from behind the counter. Harry walks around the counter taking in the sight before him. You’re cradled into Jesse, absolutely shaking.

“Oh no, my girl. Come here, baby.” He says.

“She says she can’t stand.”

“Oh, I know she can. She’s strong. C’mon baby, let's go upstairs.” He says, placing his hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, I know you can.”

You shake your head. “H-he b-bought the building, H-harry.” You cry out, “I’m going to lose ever—” Unable to speak, your sobs take over.

“What is she talking about?” He asks, looking at Jesse, not wanting you to try to talk anymore.

“It’s all in that folder.’ Jesse nods his head towards the counter next to Harry.

He picks it up, flipping through the contents. “Hah, that fucker.” He says, folding the folder in half and tucking it into his jacket pocket. “Alright, Love.” He says, leaning down to pull you up and into his arms. “Up we go.” He tosses you slightly to get his arms in the right spots under your knees and across your back.

“I’ll take care of everything down here. Thank you for coming, man.” Jesse gently grabs Harry’s shoulder.

“Of course. Thank you for calling.” Harry responds before he disappears with you up the stairs.

He walks you into the bathroom and sets you down on the counter before trying to step away from your hold, but your arms remained locked around his neck. “No. Stay. Please.”

“I am, baby, I want to run you a bath.” He chuckles, “Promise, I'm coming right back, yeah?” he presses his lips to your temple to soothe you. You nod and let him go. Harry walks over to the bathtub and turns the knob. Setting his arm out to test the water until it’s warm enough for your liking, and drops the stopper in the drain. Before returning to you, he drops some of your lavender bubble bath that’s placed on the side of your tub. He stands between your legs again and places his hands on your hips. “Alright, my girl, arms up.” He says while grabbing the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Will y-you get in w-with me?” You ask as he reaches behind you to gently undo your bra.

“Of course, If that’s what you want.” He’s reaching down to unbutton your jeans and you slide down off the counter so he can pull them down your legs along with your underwear. “My girl. I hate seeing you so sad. Let’s get you relaxed. Deal with what we can right now, yeah?” You nod, trying to even out your breathing. He pulls his clothes from his body before settling in the tub. Harry holds his hand out to help guide you, “Careful, don’t slip.” he says as you set your foot down into the warm water. You sink down and Harry pulls you to lay on his front, wrapping his arms around your waist before sinking so you're both covered by the water. “Alright, sweetheart, you’re safe now. I’m here with you,” He says, rubbing soothing circles where his thumbs rest on your hips.

“He’s ruined everything, Harry.” You cry.

“Baby, he hasn’t ruined anything yet. He’s got a piece of paper saying he’s giving Walker some money. We can’t solve anything about that right now. Let’s focus on what we can solve, okay? What can we solve right now, even if it’s small?” He asks you, reaching up to rub his hands all over your back.

You shake your head, “Can you just hold me, please?”

“Course i can. We can talk later if you want?”

“Can you just talk? Distract me?”

“Absolutely, love. About anything in particular?”

“Talk to me about your tattoos.” You say, running your fingers over the ones you can see on his chest.

Harry goes into his story about when he started getting his tattoos. He tells you the stories behind the ones that mean the most to him. He explains his tattoos as a collection of memories of instances in his life that he never wants to forget. You think that sounds wonderful.

“Would you get one for me?” You ask, partially teasing.

“Of course I would. I’d do it tomorrow.”

“Wait, really? I wasn’t serious. That’s permanent, Harry.”

“Really? They are? I had no idea.” He teases you. “Better get my money back. I was wondering why they weren’t coming off in the shower.”

“You’re so annoying.” You huff at him, making him breathe a laugh through his nose. “What would you get for me?”

“Hm, hard to tell. Perhaps the outline of a cupcake?” He muses at you.

“I quite like that idea, Mr. Styles.”

“I enjoy any idea that keeps a piece of you with me forever.” He says placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know, you give my cupcakes a run for their money with your sweetness.” You say earning a chuckle from him.

Harry continues to hold you until you begin to stir. “Are you ready to get out?” He’s looking down at you, continuing his ministrations with his hands on your hips.

You nod, “Yeah. Will you keep holding me though?” You ask.

“Anything you want, baby.” He assures you.

Harry gently dries you off before helping you brush your hair, and put a set of your pajamas on. You’ve seen every inch of this man but these actions here feel so much more intimate to you. You’ve never felt so cared for in your life. He slides into a pair of his clothes that you keep in a drawer for him in your dresser--He melted when you told him that it was his drawer– and he gets into your bed with you. He curls himself around you, face tucked into your neck, an arm sliding under your shoulders, and the other across your waist, and he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

You’re soothed by the soft thump of his heartbeat against your back, and the warmth of his even breaths against your neck. Your breathing finally begins to fully calm, and you slowly stop shaking.

“M’ so tired, Harry.” You whisper. He places a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.

“You wanna take a nap, baby? I’ll stay with you.” He says, breath tickling your throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m tired of everything going wrong.”

“Everything hasn’t gone wrong, sweetheart. I will look into this first thing in the morning, okay?”

“He broke your christmas present.” You say, turning yourself in his hold so you were facing him. “I found you the perfect gift and it’s gone. Shattered, Harry.”

“Baby, I told you, you’re the best gift I could have asked for. Material things are great, but I’d rather have you.” He says, cradling the side of your face.

“You have me all the time, Harry. Why do you always have the right thing to say?” You roll your eyes at him, trying not to smile. He makes it so hard to be upset. He looks at things with such a positive outlook and it’s so contagious.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He quips, sliding his hand under your jaw and lightly squeezing, eliciting a whimper from you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, blinking your lashes at him.

“Sure you don’t, pretty.” He says, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day. We’ll start over tomorrow, okay? Is there anything else we can do tonight to make you feel a little better?” He says while peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle. “Anything at all, baby?” You know exactly what he wants, how he wants to distract you.

“Nope, not a thing.” You say as he slides his other hand further down your body, teasing the hem of your sleep shorts. “Can’t think of anything else I n–eed toni–, ohh.” The tips of his fingers find that spot, and you’re at a loss for words; He stole them right from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue. You reach your hands up, winding them in his hair and pull him off of you, “Please, don’t stop.” You say before connecting your lips again.

“Oh, but I thought my girl didn’t need anything else from me?” He teases.

“Harry, I swear to god I'll kill you.”

“Ooh, she’s feisty now, everybody.” He says while gently turning you two over so he’s leaning over you. “Sure you can’t think of anything else you need?” You shake your head, trying to pull his face to yours, and hooking your leg around his hip to pull him closer, but he’s not budging. “Gotta use your words for me, baby.”

You pout at him, “I hate you.”

“Sure you do, sweetheart. Gonna tell me what you need?”

“You. Need you. Please.”

Harry wakes up a few hours later to the feeling of you wrapped around him. If you asked him, he’d take this version of waking up every day. But he'll have that conversation with you later, when he knows you’re ready to have it.

Slowly, he peels himself away from you, it warms his heart to see your sleeping frame frown at the loss of his warmth. “I’ll be right back, baby. Just need to make a call.” He whispers against your forehead before pressing a kiss. He knows you’re sleeping, but just in case a small part of you wasn't, he didn't want that small part to worry. Harry quietly pulls your bedroom door shut before making his way into your kitchen. He finds his jacket and retrieves his phone, immediately calling Ryan.

“Yes, Mr. Styles?” Ryan says as soon as he answers the phone.

“Ryan, I need you to do something.” Harry breathes into the phone. “I need you to get a meeting with Jeff Walker. As soon as possible.”

Stretching your arm to the right, you feel the cold sheets of your bed. You sit up and notice your door is slightly ajar, and faintly you can hear the clattering of pans in the kitchen.

“Harry?” You call out, slipping out of the comfort of your bed. You wince at the ache in your legs once you pull yourself to stand. Harry’s sweatshirt is laying on the ottoman at the end of your bed, so you slip that over your head and make your way towards the sounds in the kitchen.

Taking in the sight before you, a shirtless Harry standing at the counter, whisking something together in a large bowl. His sweatpants are hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his hair is wildly unkempt looking. But you’d wake up to this sight every day if he asked you to. He’s still unaware of your presence, so to really get his attention you saunter over behind him and slowly snake your arms around his middle, laying your cheek against his bare back.

“Good morning, pretty.” He says placing one of his hands over yours on his chest. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm, like a baby.” You hum against his back. “My legs are sore though, you menace.” He chuckles at that, turning himself in your hold, wrapping his arms around you.

“Are you complaining?” He asks, placing a kiss on your temple.

“No, not at all.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Rolling our eyes this early? You a masochist or something?” He teases you, pinching your ass and making you jolt.

You shake your head and press your face into his chest. “No. You’re just annoying.”

“Mm, mhm. So annoying, baby.” He says before kissing the crown of your head. Harry then reaches his hands down the backs of your thighs and lifts you onto the counter.. “Let me finish this, and then I’m all yours until we have to get ready for work. How’s that sound?”

“I don’t think I can do it today, Harry. I’m so mentally exhausted. I don’t want to open my shop if I won’t be able to open it a week from now.”

“Oh, my sweet girl. Everything will fall into place, I promise.” He says cupping your cheek; swiping over the surface with his thumb.

“How can you stand there and say that? How can you know that?” You say, not accusingly but with a pleading tone. You want nothing more than to believe him, but you’ve lost so much in your life, it's hard to believe in any kind of positive outcome.

“I don’t. But you have to look at it that way. You have to give yourself something to hope for. You’re just making yourself miserable by expecting the worst.”

“It’s easier if I expect the worst and then the worst happens. I prepared myself for it at least.”

“No, baby. That’s not healthy.” He says tilting your head back to look into your eyes. “I know you’ve been through so much, and it always feels like life is out to get you. But I promise it’s not all bad out there. There are so many exciting things for you to experience, but you have to try. You have to have hope. Can you try for me today?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Please, my girl?” You slowly nod your head in his hold, but he shakes his. “Nuh uh, baby. I need to hear you say you’re going to try for me today.”

“I pr-promise I’ll try, Harry.” He smiles at you.

“Good girl.” He says, stepping back to the stove, but not before pecking your lips.

He continues to make breakfast and serves you at the island. As he places the plates down, his phone vibrates next to him. A message from Ryan displayed on the screen.

Right Hand Ryan: Good morning Mr. Styles. Walker agreed to a meeting this morning at 10:30. I’ll see you when you arrive at the office.

Harry: Thank you, Ryan.

Going about the rest of your morning routine with Harry feels so domestic and right to you. You still can’t believe that a stranger you met in a parking lot would mean this much to you now. You’re certain of how you feel, but you won’t let the words come out. But Harry knows. He can see it in how you look at him. He just hopes you can tell he feels the same in the way he looks at you.

The two of you make your way downstairs, just in time for Jesse to make his way inside to help open.

“Good morning you two. I wasn’t sure what the plan was but I was gonna show up either way.” Jesse says from the doorway.

“We’re gonna milk this for all it’s worth and go from there.” You say, squeezing Harry’s hand beside you. He squeezes yours right back. “Everything will fall into place.”

“Hell yeah. I like the sound of that.” Jesse says, pumping his fist in the air. “I’ll get my stuff set up then. See you later, Harry. Thanks again for yesterday.” He says, giving Harry a fist bump before he goes into the back room.

“What a lovely pep talk, baby. Sounds like you’ve got a great life coach.” Harry says leaning down to kiss you.

“Mm, not sure about a life coach. But I’ve got a pretty good boyfriend.”

“Can he fight? Because you’re mine, in case you forgot.”

“Not sure about that. I’m sure he can though. He’s good at everything he does. Especially this one thing with his ton-,”

“Okay, pretty, I really have to go, and if you finish tha-“ you cut him off with a kiss.

“Off you go, my sweet boy.” You say smiling up at him. He’s got hearts in his eyes at the moniker. You haven’t called him anything but Harry all these months.

“I’ll be back for you later,” he grumbles before kissing you once more, and then he’s gone.

Jesse does his best to distract you throughout the morning. He kept showing you how well he could form a rose now on the nail. It was so nice seeing him so proud of himself. You felt so happy knowing that the knowledge you taught him was making this kind of impact on him.

It’s Christmas Eve. Harry asked you to spend the holiday with him at his place, but you begged him to spend it with you at yours. You said you wanted to spend as much time in your place as you could before it was no longer yours. It tugged at his heartstrings and he folded. You had no idea of the trick up his sleeve anyhow. So the place he presented it to you was of no matter.

“Baby, can you help me with this real fast?” You say from the living room. Harry nearly slices his finger off at you calling him ‘baby’. He still hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him your ‘sweet boy’ the other day. After hearing both of these names you’ve chosen for him he’s certain he never wants to hear you call him Harry again.

“Y-yeah, of course.” He says setting the knife down and walking over to you. You’re setting up the christmas tree you had tucked away in the closet, but you can't quite reach to set the star on top. “What’s up, pretty? Oh, you’re being vertically challenged, eh?” He teases, taking the star from your grasp and placing it atop the tree. He turns and looks at you and chuckles at the frown etched all over your face.

“Shut up. It’s not like I can help it.” You huff. “Not everyone is a big, tall, pain in the ass of a man.” You say as he inches closer to you, winding his arms around you and pulling you closer with every word that left your lips.

“I know, I’m sooo annoying and such a pain in the ass. I know, baby.” He coos at you, placing a kiss to your forehead. You spin in his hold and take in the state of your christmas tree. “Looks beautiful, my girl. He places another kiss to your temple.

“Does it? Is it good enough to be our first christmas tree?” You ask quietly. Placing your hands over his arms as they lay across your chest.

“You kiddin’? Course it is. You did it, so it's perfect.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me. It’s true.” One of his hands travels south to pinch your ass, again.

“How would you know I rolled my eyes? You can’t even see my face.”

“Mm, on the contrary, my love. I see your face every time I close my eyes. But I know you rolled your eyes because I know you.” Harry says, spinning you back around in his hold. “Now, come. We have much to do in the kitchen.”

“Harry, I’m not kissing you every 30 seconds because you bought yourself a ‘Kiss the Cook!’ apron.

“No, no. None of that in my kitchen right now. We’ve got a meal to prepare. Now, follow my lead.” He says placing your hands on his hips and guiding you to the kitchen.

Harry had two different gifts to give you, but he had to wait until early Christmas morning to get one of them. He wooed you with a delicious home cooked meal, some wine and another bath that wasn’t so PG rated thanks to said wine, and a good cuddle session before bed.

Harry stirs awake just a little before the sunrise. He eases himself from your hold and sneaks his way into the living room. Looking for the item in question, he places it into the gift box and sets it under the tree with the other presents, and then tiptoes back to your bedroom to lay with you until you wake up. He sets himself back down on your bed and inches his way towards you, careful not to wake you before you’re ready. (He made that mistake before) You stir slightly in your sleep and turn towards him, placing your hand on his chest. He takes the opportunity to take that hand in his and position himself under you so you could rest your head on his chest. He studies your face and takes in how serene you look. How at peace, how happy you look. It makes tears burn at the seams of his eyes, but you begin to move and he wipes them away.

“Too early.” You mumble, pulling your comforter up over your head.

“Ah, but baby, Santa was here and I think he wants you to open your presents.” Harry coos at you, slowly pulling the blanket off of you.

“Santa can fuck off.” You huff.

“Such language. You kiss your man with that mouth?” He quips at you, placing a soft smack to your ass.

“Mm, all the time. Says he loves my filthy mouth.”

“Oh, I do, sweetheart.” He concurs. “But, I do really need you to get up. We’ve got a breakfast to make and presents to open, my sweet girl.” He says placing his arms under your legs, and your back before lifting you from your bed.

“Harry! Stop, I need pants.” You say as he leaves your bedroom.

“Oh, I beg to differ on that one, love.” He says setting you down on the couch.

“It’s cold in here, you horn dog.” You scold him.

“Ah, but I can think of so many things we could do to warm you up that don’t involve pants.”

“Oh my god, down boy. Take your bone and chill.” You say making your way back to your room.

Upon your return, Harry is waiting for you on the couch, quite literally looking like a kid on Christmas. “Come sit with me.” He says holding his hand out to you. Taking your seat next to him, he pulls your legs to rest in his lap before reaching over and grabbing the two gift boxes he has for you.

“Oh, yours is that big box right there.” You point next to the tree. He smiles and grabs the box and places it in front of him. He hands you the first of the two boxes he wants you to open. Pulling the ribbon from the top of the box, you pull the top of the box off and open it to find a singular key. “It’s a key.” You say. “I’m lost.” You laugh out.

“That, my love, is a key to my house.” He deadpans, searching your face for a reaction. “If you want it, of course.” You snap your head to look at him. Tears have formed in your waterline and your lip begins to quiver. “Oh, baby. This wasn’t meant to make you cry. I’m sorry.” He says pulling you into his embrace.

“No, No, it's fine. Really. I’m happy.” You assure him. “I’m so happy.” You say pressing your lips to his. “So, so, so happy.”.

“So you’ll move in with me?” He asks excitedly.

“Of course I will.” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving a kiss on his palm. “I’d love nothing more, baby.”

“You keep calling me that.” He mumbles.

“I’m sorry, do you not like it?”

“No, I don't like it.” He deadpans, making you sweat a little. “I love it. Please keep going.”

“Oh, okay you narcissist. Your turn to open something.” You say lightly pushing him off of you.

“Alright, alright.” He slides the big box closer to him. “I thought I told you I didn't need anything from you.” He says.

“I thought I told you to shut up and open your present.” You scold him

“Okay, down girl.” He muses at you. Harry starts tearing the wrapping paper to get to the present beneath it. He’s met with the words ‘Audio Technica’ and a smile breaks onto his face. “A turntable? You got me a turntable?” He looks to you with adoration in his eyes.

“Yeah, thought you might like to start your own collection since you liked going through mine so much.” You say smiling at him.

“My sweet, sweet girl.” He says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Thank you, baby. I absolutely love it.”

“There was another part to it, but that’s the part that Jackson broke.” You whispered out. “I went back to that record store you took me to on our second date and got you that limited edition Pink Floyd record. I wanted to get you your first record too.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I love this without the record. We can always find another one someday.”

“I guess you’re right.” You huff.

“Course I am. Now, I believe you have one more present to open.” He says handing you the other little gift box. He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you pull the top off of the box.

“It’s.. my keys?” You say pulling your keys from the box. “What is it with you and keys?” You ask him. He just stares at you with a shit eating grin. “Well?”

“Allow me to explain.” Harry says before his story begins.

The morning of his meeting with Jeff Walker, he’d been determined to change the outcome of this purchase no matter what it took. He was certain things would go in his favor; they always did. It also helped that Walker was a past associate of Harry’s so there was already a mutual respect there.

Walker knocks on Harry’s office door and Ryan lets him in. The men shake hands and proceed to take their respective seats. “Harry, you old dog. I must say, I was surprised to get your meeting request, old friend. How long has it been?” “Too long, Jeff. How’s the wife?” Harry muses from his seat.

“Ah, Janet is lovely. She’s actually in Japan right now, but she is not the reason you wanted this meeting. So, my good man, do enlighten me.

“Nothing gets by you, Jeff. I indeed do need your help.”

“Well, I am all ears. Always willing to help an old friend in need. What can I do for you, Styles?”

“First, let me ask you this, what exactly is your business with Jackson Cole?” Harry asks, fiddling with the pen between his fingers.

“Ah, that boy. He came to me a few weeks ago asking if he could buy a property of mine. Says he wants to delve into the realm of property owning.” Jeff begins, “But at first I wasn’t budging. That was until he offered to pay in cash. So I accepted his offer.”

“See, that’s where my problem is.”

“I’m not following, Harry.”

“Jeff, I met a girl this year and she’s turned out to mean more to me than anyone else on this planet.”

“That doesn’t seem like much of a problem to me.” Jeff laughs from his seat.

“No, that’s not the problem.” Harry chuckles, “The problem is that she used to be in a relationship with Cole. A toxic one; He was horrible to her. And now Cole is planning on using the building he’s purchasing from you to try and ruin her life. Her business is in that building, and he’s told her she’s got a week to get out.”

“Well, the sale isn’t even finalized until next week.” Jeff says from his chair. “And I don’t like the sound of this kid. I’m surprised he’s still here.”

“That’s being handled once we’re done here,” Harry muses, “So there’s time then? To cancel the deal?”

“Indeed, but i quite liked the idea of selling that building, Harry, i can’t even lie to you.”

“I’ll buy it then. I’ll give you what he was going to give you. I’ll even throw in covering the cancellation costs and a stipend for you.”

“You really like this girl, huh, Styles?”

“You have no idea, Jeff. Do we have a deal?” Harry asks, reaching his hand across his desk.

“Of course, old friend.” He grabs Harry’s hand in a firm shake, “Let’s try to not let as much time pass before our next meeting, Harry.”

“Agreed, Jeff. Have a great trip back to the city. I greatly appreciate your time today.”

“I hope you make that girl's day when you tell her.” Jeff says before making his way out. Harry lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He was certain he’d be able to get what he needed from this meeting, but it still shook him to his core to know that Y/N’s business was on the line. He was willing to do whatever it took, but he was thankful Jeff was so willing to help Harry out. Although it might be because Harry had been Jeff’s biggest donor when he was starting his company. But Jeff would never admit that.

“Are you going to tell Y/N?” Ryan asks from his desk in the corner.

“Soon, yes. First, I need you to get Cole in here. Tell him I’m not asking.”

“Yes, Mr. Styles.” Ryan says before leaving the office in search of Jackson.

“Y-you bought this place?” You ask him, unable to contain your tears anymore. "I thought you said Walker backed out of the deal."

“He did, out of the deal with Jackson and into one with me. It's all yours, Love.”

“Wait. Harry, I don’t know how to be a landlord.”

“Ah, not to worry, love. I’ll take care of all of that. You just worry about making your sweets and running your business. But I still want you to come home to me every night.”

“Harry.” You say. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, baby. You don’t have to say anything at all.” He says cradling you to his chest.

“I just can’t believe someone would do something like this for me.” You say cupping his face with both hands.

He reaches up and grips your wrists lightly and looks into your eyes, “I would do anything for you, my perfect girl.” He kisses you softly. “I love you.. So much.” He says, happy tears streaming down his face as he looks at you with such adoration.

Those words. Those words you’d been so desperate to hear for the longest time, and for someone to mean them? You’re a mess. Harry showed you that it’s okay to get your hopes up, because he’ll max out your expectations every time. You’re sure you’re bawling but can’t seem to care. You’re certain you feel the same. “And I love you so much, my sweet, perfect boy.” You say before kissing him with more fervor than you ever have before. He pulls away and he’s looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. “Merry Christmas, Baby.” You say to him.

“Merry Christmas, Love.”

Bonus:

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Styles?” Jackson says as he enters Harry’s office.

“Indeed, son. Have a seat.” Harry motions to the chairs across from his desk. Jackson takes a seat and glances around the room warily.

“Now, I’m going to explain this to you very quickly and carefully, Cole. You are going to walk out of this office, go into the locker room and clear your shit out.” “Wait a sec-” Jackson begins to speak, but Harry’s quicker.

“Silence. I’m speaking.” Harry says, waving his hand. “As I was saying, after you’ve cleared out your locker, there's a plane waiting for you at the airport. Your apartment is in the process of being sold and all your items are being packed at this very moment. The plane will be taking you to Los Angeles where you will join their 53 man roster as a third string quarterback.”

“Third string? What is the meaning of this, sir?”

“I am so glad you asked.” Harry muses. “It seems you can’t leave alone what’s mine. So I'm removing you from the situation in a way that keeps you alive, me out of prison, and my girlfriend's mind at ease.”

“Mr. Styles, with all due respect I’m of more use to you here.”

“Really? A dead last draft pick that cant keep his feet on the ground is of use to me here? How does that make any sense? The same dead last draft pick that fumbled the ball more times than I could count in last year's championship game?”

“Sir, please, I’ll do anyth–”

“Enough. The decision has been made, Cole. You’re free to go. Say goodbye to your teammates and be on your way.” Harry says, making Jackson stand from his seat. “One more thing,” Harry starts before Jackson can leave, “If you ever try to speak to, bother, or even breathe the same air as Y/N again, I will have your career. You’re lucky you still have one. You can thank her for that. She wouldn’t be able to live with it if I’d gotten to do what I actually wanted to. So, count your blessings, boy.” He pauses briefly, taking in the look of anger and desperation all over Jackson’s face. “Have I made myself clear?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Styles.”

a/n 2.0: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR COMING ALONG WITH ME ON THIS JOURNEY!! THANK YOU AGAIN TO MOTHER @freedomfireflies FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT AND LOVE. I really owe so much to you!! I absolutely adore you 🫶🏻🩵

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed <3

taglist: @stylesfever @olipoli21 @hermionelove @st-ev-ie @mrs-anna-styles211994 @hannah9921 @velvetballaspark

#harry x reader #mdni & dividers both by @/cafekitsune #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles

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beary-rambles · 2 months

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hiii, how are you? I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do Jacaerys Velaryon x reader. Where reader is Alicent’s firstborn daughter, and they were married in hopes to reconcile the family. Could you do newly married headcannons for them, sfw and nsfw. They don’t necessarily show their hate 24/7, they married out of duty, and for their families but they don’t get along or make efforts to get along, if that makes sense. More like a subtle enemies to lovers. If you can do this, it would be great. And I hope you have a wonderful day 😊😊😊

a/n: hiii i am great i hope youve been well. <3 TYSM FOR THE REQUEST !! sorry it took me a couple days to get too !! i went a little overboard sorry i just loved this rq sm !! <3 hope you enjoy !! (this is more of a fic in headcannon format :3)

word count: 2k

warnings: smut, slight enemies to lovers, slight baela/jaacerys romance for the drama, happy ending not bulleted, not proofread, avoided the use of y/n

You didn't hate jacaerys targaryen. No, you never had strong feelings about him. Even in your youth as you grew up you never thought much about him. If anything the most you had ever had is a slight resentment towards him for his treatment of aemond.

Your engagement had come as a surprise. Especially knowing how much your mother didn't care for rhaenyra or her family, especially her sons. But apparently rhaenyra and Alicent had a moment together and the two managed to come to an agreement for the sake of the family.

You couldn't gauge his reaction when he heard the news, he did not seem as shocked as you, leading you to believe he had already been informed. The two of you stared at each other and you could sense his annoyance. You've never had any bad blood so you don't understand what he could be so annoyed about until his eyes stray from you and you turn your head to where he's looking and notice he was looking at baela who also had a saddened look on her face but covered it up well. The two of you barely speak during the wedding prep.

The two of you actually argued quite a bit about the ceremony. You had wanted one more to your faith, the seven, while he was insistent that you had a traditional targaryen ceremony and for it to take place at driftmark.

“Of course you would want it at driftmark.” you scoff His head shoots up and he gives you a glare. “What could that possibility mean?”

“Nothing my dear i just find it funny that you of all people want a ceremony at driftmark. What sort of relation do you have there? Wouldn't a place like harrenhal suit you better”

His hands slam on the table and he stands his eyes never leaving yours as his face turns angry.

You can hear your mother scold you but you just laugh and keep a smile on your face. The meaning of your words are very clear to him but as he opens his mouth to speak his mother interrupts suggesting just to have two ceremonies.

You roll your eyes as he sits back down and agrees. The two of you continue to make sly remarks at one another to many, It would just look like friends poking fun at one another but the two of you knew that you two could barely stand each other. It was easy enough to fool the public into thinking the two of you had been a love match. Especially since they had no clue the two of you did not speak outside of public appearances.

Your wedding was magical, without any of the magic. You would have two ceremonies, one of the more intimate traditional Targaryen ceremony and one longer three day ceremony for the faith. you ended up having the targaryen ceremony first. It was a very small ceremony with only your family there.

Even though you held no feelings towards the velaryon boy there's something so intimate about the tradition ceremony that it had even your heart skipping.

you couldn't tell if he felt the same, he had a clearly fake pleased look but you did notice he did not spare baela one glance but instead had spent that night dancing with you.

you two decided not to consummate the marriage that night much to your relief, and would wait till your other wedding night. The public had no clue the two of you were already married, during your wedding feast many would come up to you and spare their congratulations and provide a gift.

You and jacaerys sat at the head of the table. The night had been going fine until one particular lord came up and started saying some inappropriate comments about you.

You began to shrink in your seat and could not find a voice to say anything yet you did not have to as jacaerys was quick to shut him down, his tone had changed much from his kinder tone earlier while regarding guests.

He had laced his land with yours and quickly shooed him away. He had turned to you and asked you if you were alright and all you could do was nod. jacaerys keeps his hand laced with yours the whole night. Despite the fact the two of you are still at odds you find comfort with his warm hand in yours.

The next day was the tourney. You knew jacaerys was going to be competing. No one dared to ask you for your favor. When jacaerys finally was announced he immediately strolled over to the royal box where you had been sitting, “your favor my love?”

After you had reached out and tied it around his sword he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back before riding away. When your wedding rolled around it had once again been a pleasant ceremony. A part of you which you didn't want to acknowledge felt as though there was a small smile on Jace's face when the two of you kissed. The celebration afterwards has also been nice but a part of you felt dread as you realized the bedding ceremony had been right around the corner. Jacaerys had noticed at some point during the festivities you had been upset, “are you alright?”

You didn't want to mention it so you just nodded my head and didn't turn to face him. You could feel his stare and when you didnt turn towards him he sighed. “If you hold any worries about the bedding ceremony, put them to rest. I have already insisted it is not necessary.” You whip your head towards him in shock but he had turned away from you and was staring at the crowd drinking from his chalice. “You did?”

“Of course, there is no reason to. Though the maesters were insistent they checked you afterwards. I had attempted to avoid that as well but they were persistent.” “Why?”

His face scrunched as if he had been confused about your question. “You did not want to do it. Did you?” Your head begins to hurt as you think about the fact he had put in all the extra effort to make sure you did not have to do something you did not want to.

The two of you decided to call it a night and you attempted to ignore your brothers yells of encouragement as you quickly exited the room. You had arrived at your chambers first and were quickly stripped out of your extravagant dress by some maids and the pit in your stomach continued to grow.

There was no way jacaerys would be a cruel lover. Sure the two of you did not get along most of the time but you felt he had been kind to you today and the last couple days. Lost in your thoughts you barely noticed as jacaerys walked into the room still in his formal wear and dismissed all the maids. You stood up to face him and suddenly it became alarmingly clear to you that you two were alone in this room while he was fully dressed and you were wearing a plain white nightgown. No words are spoken between the two of you as you stare as he begins to remove his formal wear. “I am sorry.”

His back is turned to you as he removes his coat and you watch as he freezes “what for?” “This whole marriage. You clearly did not want this and I am sorry you are being forced into this. Maybe I do not want it as well but it must feel worse for you.”

Your head had fallen to the floor as you went on. His hand grabbed your chin and he forced you to lock eyes with him. He had a relaxed face as he gave you a concerned look. “It is our duty you must be upset about it as well. Why would it be worse for me?”

��I assumed you had relations with baela..” you trail off and try to look away but his grip immediately pulls you back. “I promise you I shall never be unfaithful if that is your worry. You are my wife. I could not imagine disrespecting you that way.” It is clear to you he does not deny the fact he has feelings for her but you choose to ignore this fact as he leans in and kisses you. It becomes painfully obvious to the two of you that you are both terribly inexperienced He leads you over to the bed as you gasp as you fall back onto the bed

He is a very kind lover though it was very obvious to him he struggled to know what to do His fingers were clumsy as he attempted to prep you (which you did not expect as your mother told you he would just stick it in) But once he got to the rhythm of it he was very good and soon enough you had your first come. “Are you sure you've never done this nephew?” He laughs and shakes his head, “never dear auntie though i did read up on it.”

He kisses down your neck as he slips off your dress Lost in the feeling you barely noticed that he had slipped off his trousers he was still wearing and was fully nude You would say he has a nice dick but you've never seen another one so you have nothing to compare it to You fight the urge to reach out and grab it He clumsily lines himself up and it hurts.

He presses kisses all over your face in an attempt to calm you down and waits for you to give him the okay before he begins to move. Your mother had spent the last week tell you to be prepared to just lay there and take it and you would find no enjoyment at all but in this exact moment you had no clue what she was talking about You had never felt this amazing in your life, he was kissing you as one of his hands was playing with your clit and another one was locked with yours next to your head.

He was slow, not the rough and hard pace you had been expecting. He valued your pleasure just as much if not more than his own. He was also much more vocal that you had expected, your mother told you men do not make much noise but as he laid his head right next to your ear you could hear ever groan and whine leave his lips He encouraged you to come first before he spilled himself inside you. When he got up soon after you felt a chill, your mother did say men did just quickly leave as soon as they were done. To your surprise all he had done was get up to alert the maids to draw a bath for you.

This however alerts the maester and your mother who comes running in, your mother obviously concerned when she sees you but you reassure her you are fine. Jaacerys was nowhere to be seen and did not return til you were already asleep. You had expected the two of you to have a better relationship after the last couple days have been nice but jacaerys has a very sudden shift in attitude and is back to his sly remarks. A part of you feels sick as if the last couple days had just been a ruse to not have to force you to bed him and he was just like all men. Even when he comes back to bed you he is certainly not as nice as the first time.

“Jaacerys must be rather upset these days.” your brother aemond says over tea one morning “However, would you know that?” “Baela has been betrothed to one of arryns.” Now it has made sense to you and you find yourself seething with anger.

When he comes to join the two of you for tea you quickly make some excuse and rush away ignoring jacaerys confused look as he looks after you. The next couple days follow a similar routine. He is up before you and you pretend to oversleep so you miss breakfast with him, you busy yourself with other activities and avoid even being in the same room as him and when he tried to see you before bed you were already pretending to sleep. After the third day of this you hear him sigh as he sees you in bed already.

That next morning you expect things to go a similar way as the last couple had but were shocked to see jacaerys there instead of aemond who you were supposed to have tea with. “Jacaerys.” “Sit” “I'm supposed to be meeting with aemond-” “And you're meeting with me instead. Sit.” You begrudgingly sit and speak no words as he pours you a cup and you wordlessly take a sip. “You have nothing to say?” “Should i?”

He rolls his eyes, “we have not spoken in many a moon.” “I have been busy.” He scoffs, “busy with what?” You grow angry at his tone, “I apologize my prince but just because some of us aren't crowned princes that does not mean the things we spend our days doing are unimportant.” His face immediately drops as he rubs his hands over his face, “I am sorry, my lady, I didn't mean it like that.” You say nothing just look off to the side “I have just missed you.”

You laugh and his face grows angry once more, “what's that?” “Are you sure it's me you miss?” “Whatever does that mean.” You continue to laugh, “surely it must be your dear baela you miss not i. I heard she is to be married off.” His face turns confused, “what does baela have anything to do with this?”

“She is the reason you are upset, no? Why have you been upset?” He sighs and puts his head in his head. “No, I mean yes but no.” “What does that mean?” “I am not upset that she is betrothed.” You keep silent as he continues, “i thought we were meant to be ever since i was a young kid and i do admit that i was more than angry when i had been informed i would be marrying you and even angrier when we continued to argue but after a while i realized that i had enjoyed your company more and more, especially after our wedding.” A light blush dusts his face, “and when i heard the news of baelas betrothal i had expected myself to be filled with rage but i felt nothing. And that terrified me. The only thing I could think about was you.”

“I avoided being short tempered and nasty with you so I apologize but these couple days without speaking to you have been tortuous. I have come to realize I need you.” You are frozen as a warm feeling fills you, you can tell by the look on his face he means every word. “I love you jacaerys.” “And I love you my beloved.”

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allysunny · 3 months

Note

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

Congrats on 200 followers, SOOOO DESERVED!!!

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

Thank you in advance, much love! 🫶🏻

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

Words: 15.8k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Either way, he was enthralled.

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

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

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

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

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

""Your money back?"

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

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

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

"Bruce Wayne? Does he dress like this?"

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

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

You only seemed to get better by the second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"After you."

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

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

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

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

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

You pondered your options.

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

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

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

And Bruce loved it.

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

But above all, he loved you,

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

Alfred was very fond of you too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Batcar?" Bruce asked, cringing.

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

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

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

"Just get on with it."

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

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

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

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

"You're wearing the suit next time.”

Your engagement was happily lived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did my best.” Was his response.

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

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

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

“It definitely wasn’t made by you.”

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

Your eyes lit up and you smiled at him jokingly.

“Is that a promise?”

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

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

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

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

“You bumped into me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And thankfully, he usually did.

You two had a sort of unspoken deal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, the future held other plans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

How did he know about him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t say you could shoot –“

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

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

That had been close.

Too close.

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

That was too close.

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

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

“He knew who I am.”

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

“Did he now?”

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

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

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

The Batman was gone.

“ – Best.”

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

What was he going to do?

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

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

And Bruce couldn’t have that.

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

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

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

You couldn’t.

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

He tried hard to think of what to do.

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

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

And yet, it would keep you safe.

Bruce loved you.

So, so much.

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when it hit him.

You had to see it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A handsome raise by Master Wayne.”

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

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

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

Alfred sighed sadly, before following you.

“I’m afraid Master Wayne is busy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Weird. Are you sure he’s alright?”

“I suppose so, Miss.”

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

“Yes, Miss.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was for your own good.

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

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

You were quick to move aside.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry – “

“I’m sure you are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

“We can’t be together anymore.”

Your eyes widened. What?

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

These words hit you like a truck.

Didn’t love you anymore?

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…”

“Just tell me, Bruce!”

Bruce sighed, looking away.

“Three months.”

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

The whole situation made you nauseous alright.

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

You couldn’t stare at him any longer.

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

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

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

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

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

You sneered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And walked out, suitcase in hand.

“Alfred, make sure you take her – “

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

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

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

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

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

But all of that was over now.

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

Master Wayne was miserable before you.

He was sure he’d get worse now.

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

“Did you pay her?”

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

“She won’t tell a soul.”

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

In his head, this was the only solution.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is there anything you wish, sir?”

“No, you’re dismissed.”

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

He’d lost you, sure.

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

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

Nothing else mattered, as long as you were safe.

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

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

At first, Bruce was terrified.

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

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

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

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

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

“I loved her, Alfred. I still do.”

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

Bruce tried to follow that mentality.

For months, he tried to forget you.

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

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

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

But he was left with nothing.

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

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

Days passed; seasons changed.

The daily cycle continued, interrupted.

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

Winter became spring, spring became summer.

And Bruce Wayne’s heart remained unmended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alfred?” he asked, closing his newspaper.

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

“Don’t I pay you enough for that?”

“Not nearly, sir.”

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

Alfred nodded with a small smile and exited the car.

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

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

“Really?”

“Really, sir. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, this respite did not last long.

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

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

And what he saw stole his breath away.

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

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

Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was as if the whole world faded away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were that thread, Bruce thought to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

Was it selfish of him to want you back?

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

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

He needed you back.

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

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

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

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

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

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

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

"Please."

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

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

Your brain yelled at you though, telling you to stay away from him. This man had ruined your life, used you and thrown you aside. You had no use for him. You deserved better.

And yet, your heart still yearned for him. You couldn't lie – as soon as you laid your eyes on him, it did a little flip, at it usually did.

As it used to do. Not anymore. You're not his anymore.

"Fine," you mumbled, shaking your head. "But not now. I'm busy."

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding desperately. "When can you meet me? Tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Is it too soon?"

It's not soon enough, you thought. You really did not have anything else to do today but thought it better not to tell him. You couldn't give him all you wanted at once – you were afraid your poor heart couldn't take it.

Still, something inside you couldn't hide how much your heart still wanted him.

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Great, great. 4 in the afternoon? I could have Alfred pour us something? Maybe a few biscuits?"

It was endearing, how desperate he seemed to get you to sit with him. It was cute.

Stop it. He's not "cute", he ruined your life and tossed you aside. You just want closure. That's it – closure. That's all you want from him.

"Fine. Can I go now?" You asked, before shaking your head and rephrasing. "I'll be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait – Should I send for a driver?"

"Unless the Manor has disappeared and teleported somewhere else, I think I can manage." Saying this, you walked away, leaving Bruce at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. There you were, in front of him, and just as quickly as he'd spotted you, you were gone. You were every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. He thought of your pregnant belly, and a shiver ran down your spine.

Whose baby was that? Was it his? Were you carrying another man's child? And why were you back in Gotham? Whatever reason it was, he silently thanked the heavens. It'd brought you back to him, and that's all that mattered. With a newfound sense of determination, Bruce ran back to his limo, where Alfred was still waiting for someone to fix his tire.

"Call the company," he exclaimed, out of breath and panting as he reached the older man. "Cancel all my meetings. Today's and tomorrow's."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. What the hell did his boss get into this time?

"May I ask why, sir?"

Bruce beamed.

"We have company."

Alfred had mixed emotions about you coming to visit.

On one hand, he was more than glad to see you. He missed you terribly, his book club pal, his gossiper, his nearly adoptive daughter. He looked forward to hugging you again, speaking to you, asking you how you were doing and learning how these past few months had been going for you.

On the other hand, he was positively mortified. He knew Bruce hadn't dealt very well with your absence, and he was afraid of what his young master might do now that you were here and willing to listen to him. And what would he say anyway? He knew Bruce was suffering and had never stopped loving you, but he didn't expect for him to actually try and win you back as soon as he laid eyes on you.

Sighing, he adjusted the tray on top of the kitchen counter, smiling when he heard the doorbell. Walking towards the entrance, he fixed his tie – he too wanted to look presentable for his favourite young lady – and opened it. Your sight was enough for his smile to grow wider. He took you all in, and his eyes got larger as he spotted the large bump on your stomach.

"Hey Alfred," you said, sporting a soft smile and another summer dress – this one, light green.

"Hello Miss." He replied, tears in his eyes. It made him emotional, you with your hands slowly supporting your growing stomach. He'd wanted to see this sight for so long, and while it was endearing, and you looked radiant, it was also heartbreaking that he hadn't been there to see most of it, and that neither had Bruce.

The very same question passed through his head: Whose baby were you carrying?

"You've got room for a plus one?" You asked, eyes dropping to your stomach.

"I think we can manage."

You walked inside, and hugged Alfred tightly close to you. You too saw him as family, and it had broken your heart to cut contact with him. At first, you thought about keeping his phone number and calling him occasionally; but after learning how everyone wanted to get their eyes on you, you decided that perhaps it was for the best if you ceased contact completely.

"I missed you so much, Miss. The Manor is not the same without you," he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"I missed you too, Alfred," you replied, tears forming in your eyes aswell. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I – "

"It's alright, Miss." He pulled away, looking into your eyes with that kind, warm, parental gaze of his, "I understand. I'm just glad I got to see you again."

With this, he led you towards the living room, where Bruce was already, pacing back and forth. It almost made you chuckle – big bad Bat by night, reckless playboy by day Bruce Wayne was pacing circles inside his living room, visibly worried sick.

"Master Wayne," Alfred said, signalling your arrival.

Bruce looked up and you'd think you had just offered him the cure to eternal life or something by the way his gaze held yours.

"Hey," he said, walking towards you, but thinking better of it and standing a few steps away from you. He held forward his hand, hoping that you'd somehow shake it. You did not, and he dropped it.

"Would you like something to drink? Alfred prepared coffee."

"I don't drink coffee. It makes me nauseous." You softly placed your hands on your stomach, and Bruce got the hint immediately,

"Yes – yes, of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. By the look of it, tousled and unkempt, you figured he'd been doing that quite a lot for at least the past half hour. "Is there anything else you'd like, though? A cup of water, perhaps some tea?"

"Tea would be fine, thank you." You turned to look at Alfred when you said these words, although Bruce could tell immediately they weren't for him by the way your voice was coated in sugar – something he knew he hadn't earned just yet. "You still know my favourite?"

"Of course, Miss," Alfred nodded politely with a smile, "I'll get it for you right away," and made his way towards the kitchen.

You and Bruce remained in silence for a while before he seemingly broke out of a trance.

"Please, do sit down."

You did so, carefully tucking a pillow behind your back, you stretched your legs ever so slightly and sighed in relief, hands resting on top of your stomach. "There, there", you mumbled, "All comfy, aren't we?"

Bruce eyed you and your stomach. There were so many things he wanted to ask you, and yet he did not know where to begin. Should he address the elephant in the room? Should he let you speak about it? What if you did not want to talk about it? Maybe the child wasn't even his – you could've moved on and started a life without him. He has no right to ask.

"You're looking..." he began. You waited for a continuation, and it surely came, seconds after. "Beautiful. Radiant."

"Thank you," was your polite response. You looked around the room – nothing had changed. Still the same paintings up on the walls, still the same portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne holding a very tiny and very happy Bruce, still the same scent of lavender and books.

Still home.

"How have you been?" he asked, sitting down on the couch positioned next to yours, and trying his best to relax.

"How have I been?" you repeated. He wanted to catch up? Really? As if everything you had together in the past had meant nothing?

"Yes," he nodded, gesturing towards yourself. "How have you been these past few months?"

You scoffed. Fine. If he wanted to do this, then he would see it through until the very end.

"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Bruce." You said, venom evident in your words, dripping off them. "In fact, these last few months have been the jolliest of my life. The man I was in a relationship with, who's also the man who had proposed to me broke up because he said he did not love me anymore, and was fucking some random woman when I walked in on him, then he kicked me out of our home, had to go live in a hotel room for a few weeks before I finally got a place far, far away from his prying eyes, cutting edge technology and vigilante alter ego, then I have to deal with gossip magazines wanting to photograph my face and get some sort of statement from me, going as far as to trying to break into my house just to find out what truly happened."

Bruce winced at the harshness of your words. You'd had some terrible couple of months, clearly, and he didn't know what to say.

"But hey! How have you been, Bruce? How's life?" You were being sarcastic – that much was evident, and although he did deserve every ounce of cruelty you gave him, it also hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You can't imagine just how sorry I am... And how much I regret what happened."

"Ah," you sneered, twisting your face in disgust, "Is this why you invited me here? Because you regret hooking up with whoever that was back then? Got into a mess you couldn't undo? Miss me, oh so much, and need me back?"

Each word was like a dagger being plunged into Bruce's heart. Had heartbreak turned you so bitter?

No, not bitter. You were right, after all.

"I'm sorry," he said your name softly, sighing deeply. "I need to tell you something."

"And I'm sure I can't wait to hear whatever it is." You scoffed. Alfred quickly entered the living room, placing a tray with two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. He carefully handed you one of them, before walking away. Bruce's nose scrunched. Ouch.

"Thank you," you smiled at the butler, took a sip out of the mug, and sighed contentedly. "This man makes the best tea I've ever drank."

"He really does. But as I was saying, I need to tell you something."

"Bruce, I don't want to hear sob stories. I didn't come here to hear you whine and moan and complain about your life. I'm sure you suffered a lot, but I am not really interested." There you went again, sarcasm coming naturally to you and your words.

"I just need to tell you what really happened."

Another sneer.

"I saw what really happened Bruce. Stop it with the bullshit."

"Just – " Bruce took another deep breath. "Please. Just listen to me without any interruptions, please. If you want to scream at me and yell and slap me and punch me after, then that's okay."

"Tempting."

"But please, just let me speak."

"Okay."

Bruce looked at you in surprise. Okay? Just like that? So willingly?

"That's why I came here, isn't it? Please get it over with."

The man before you nodded. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. It was time for you to know the truth.

"Back when we were engaged," he began, "There was this one night I went on patrol. And everything was going fine, until I ran into Crane."

You furrowed your brows. "Crane?" Then, you remembered what he'd said about interrupting, and muttered a quick "Sorry, go on."

"I ran into Crane."

It was almost as if Bruce could see the whole thing playing before him. The darkness of the night, the faint smell of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, the one he was immune to. It was all so clear in his mind – after all, that night was the beginning of the end.

"He started talking to me. Trying to get into my head, as he usually did. But that time was different. He... He started talking about me, my own personal life, my identity. And then he mentioned you." His gaze fell on you, and you were met with hopelessness and despair. It was heart-wrenching.

"He knew you. Knew you, he knew who you were, knew who I am. He threatened to tell Arkham City residents our identities. He threatened to hurt you if I didn't help him."

Your face was pale with worry.

"And what did you do? You didn't help him, did you? It's Crane!"

"The GCPD intervened and killed him on the spot. Some rookie officer convinced it was the best thing to do. Crane was holding a phone in his hand when he died. It contained files, files about all those close to me. I got to delete everything just before he sent it."

You listened attentively. No one had ever gotten as close to unmask Bruce. Well, no one until Crane. You had heard of his death, but only thought it was a good thing that such a criminal was out of the streets.

"And I..." Bruce hesitated. This was the hard part, telling you what he'd done, the hard choice he'd made. "I thought... It was unthinkable to lose you. I just couldn't. Crane had gotten too close. I was terrified darli – " he quickly corrected himself, switching to your name. "I couldn't lose you... I barely slept that night, thinking of what could've happened to you."

In your face, Bruce could see some recognition. Were you putting the pieces together? Did you know?

"I thought..." he continued, "I thought I had to keep you safe. And in my mind, you'd never be safe if you were with me. As long as you were associated with Bruce Wayne, you'd be in constant danger."

"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head,

"And you're so stubborn..." Bruce's eyes shed with unshed tears, voice carrying an amount of emotion you weren't familiar with. "You'd never listen to me. You'd stick by my side and argue that you loved me and didn't care about the danger..."

"You didn't..." you covered your mouth.

"So, the only plausible explanation was driving you away."

The tension shifted immediately in the room. Bruce couldn't tell what was going through your head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"I paid someone to put on that little show with me, that day. I knew you were coming home early. It pained me so much to do it, I swear..."

"I can't believe this..." you stood up, attempting to do it quickly but failing because of your stomach. "I can't believe you would do that."

Bruce remained sitting, not wanting to distress you any further.

"Please, you have to understand – everything I did was for your protection."

"So you cheated on me to drive me away!?"

"We were going to get married! If you shared my name, you'd share your enemies, and I promised I would never drag you into my other life. I promised to keep you safe."

"Yeah!" You threw your arms up in the air in frustration. "So! You could've taught me martial arts! Gifted me a taser! Taught me how to throw a punch, give me a gun or something! Instead, you thought the brightest idea was to dump me?"

"It hurt like hell; it really did. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat – I was in hell without you." Bruce was getting desperate. This is not how he wanted things to go, not how he'd pictured it going. You were freaking out, understandably so, but some part of him was hoping you would understand. Would you ever?

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" You were getting angry now. This whole conversation was pissing you off.So Bruce had broken your heart because he wanted to protect you!? "We're two responsible adults, Bruce! You could've told me what happened."

"I couldn't. You would've never agreed to stay away from me."

"Exactly! Because I love you! I'd have stuck with you through thick and thin!"

Bruce was so engaged in the argument; he missed your slip. Love, not loved. Present tense.

"And that was precisely what I didn't want to happen! I didn't want to come home one night and found you dead on the ground or kidnapped! I was doing it all for you!"

"By breaking my heart."

"It had to be done."

"It didn't.

"I was thinking of you."

"How old are we, Bruce!? 16? 17? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Alfred had tried to exit the perimeter. He didn't want to be anywhere near you two, but decided against that decision. Someone had to be able to step in and protect the young master. He was positive that given the chance, you'd throw something at him, and that was sure to leave a mark. He didn't doubt your abilities.

"I'm so sorry," Bruce pleaded, "But once again, please understand. I was just doing what i thought was best."

"You left me!"

"I was protecting you!"

"You left me, Bruce!" You yelled, unable to fight back your tears. Once again, you didn't know what got you so agitated. Maybe your hormones, maybe the lingering feelings you deep down still had for the man sitting down before you. "I loved you; I needed you by my side, and you left me! Because you thought someone was coming after me? You said it yourself – Crane did not send the files to anyone. We were safe. We were fine. And you went and destroyed everything we had because of some fear you had?"

It was Bruce's turn to stand up, defensively placing his hands in front of his chest.

"I couldn't lose you. Please, please, you have to forgive me. I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have done it, I know. I miss you – I miss you so much, I have for the past few months, I can't live without you."

"I couldn't live without you either and had to make do! I still have to!"

"There was an uncomfortable silence as the last few words hung in the air. It was then that Bruce decided to finally ask the question he'd been meaning to ever since he first saw you on the street.

"Is the child mine?"

You widened your eyes, looking away from him. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach.

"You have no right to ask that."

"Please. Just... Is it mine?"

You thought it over. There was no use in hiding it. The child would most likely grow up to look like him, bear his eyes and smile, scrunch his nose in the way his father did when confused. And for all it was worth, Bruce deserved to know. He wasn't a bad person, and you knew he'd be a good father.

"Yes," you mumbled, softly.

Bruce didn't hesitate to ask his next question.

"When did you find out?"

"A few days later. I was all by myself, and so scared, Bruce..." Sitting down, you looked at the floor, finding a sudden interest in examining your shoes. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done... Bearing this child all by myself, without you... As soon as my stomach started showing, I had to get out of here. Tabloids were going crazy, and I didn't want you finding out. I just wanted a normal life for him."

"Him?"

"Yeah. I know for sure, it's a little boy. I love him so much already..."

Bruce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He knew he'd screwed things up the first morning he woke up without you by his side, but this was simply too much.

"I love you." The determination with which he said it took you by surprise. "I always have. I never stopped. I'm sorry for what I did. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I knew I would put you through hell, and I still did it because it would be the best for you. I'm so sorry."

These words did not fall on deaf ears. You were listening, hung up on every word. Bruce was right there, right in front of you, apologizing and confessing he still loved you. And didn't you love him back? Hadn't you spent countless nights crying over his absence, wishing it were his fingers wiping away the tears that refused to stop, wishing that he was there next to you the moment you realised you were pregnant, wishing he would hug you tightly, kiss your forehead and assure you everything would be fine? That it had all been a very bad nightmare and you were back at home with his body wrapped around yours?

"I... I don't know how I should feel," you said. Which was partially true. Some part of you did still love him, but he'd put you through too much heartache. You weren't about to just forgive him and kiss all his worries away and pretend nothing had ever happened. "You really hurt me, Bruce... I don't know if I can go through that again. What if someone else gets a hold of my information? Of your identity? Are you going to push me away again? Push our son away?"

Bruce looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and in one quick motion, was down on one knee, hands desperately wanting to rest on top of yours. "I promise," his voice was soft, and it reminded you of your sweet Bruce, of the man you'd fallen in love with and were ready to love forever, "It won't happen again. I'll do better next time. Hell, there won't even be a next time. I promise. I can't live without you."

"Bruce, I... It's not as simple as that..."

"You don't love me anymore?"

"That's not what I said."

"So you do?" A hint of a smile.

"Gosh, Bruce, stop it! What you did was terrible – it destroyed me. Those were the worst months of my life, you have no idea how it felt to be me, alone and pregnant and scared! You can't just waltz back into my life and tell me you love me and are sorry. I don't trust you anymore. It's just not that simple."

"I understand."

Bruce sighed and stood up.

"I just wanted to tell you the truth, anyway. You deserve it. I'm really sorry for what I did."

Once again, you're basked in silence. This time, it was you who broke it, with a question of your own, one that had plagued you ever since he told you everything was staged.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your voice was meek, fragile. Did you want to know the truth?

"No." Bruce answered with determination. "We didn't have sex. I wasn't really naked."

Your eyes widened.

"I guess you were too mad to notice." He smiled sadly.

You looked away at the ground.

Somehow, it did make you a little more at ease that he hadn't really had sex with that woman. It didn't erase all of your pain but gave you some slight respite.

"Have you been with anyone, after..."

"No." He answered again. "There was never anyone else. Never could be. There was only just you. There's always been just you."

You nodded thoughtfully.

"Would you like to feel your son?"

"Huh?"

"He's kicking. Would you?"

Bruce gave you an enthusiastic nod and sat beside you, allowing you to guide your hands to the exact spot the baby was kicking him. Sure enough, he felt something press against his hand repeatedly. He chuckled, automatically leaning forward to feel it better.

"Hey there, little guy," he whispered. "I can't believe you're real."

You stood there for a while, him by your side, hand on top of your stomach. It felt weird, but in a comforting way. It was just you and Bruce and your unborn child, and you somehow felt like things were okay. Everything was fine.

"I've never stopped loving you either," you said after a while. Bruce turned to you, allowing you to speak. "When I found out I was pregnant, all I wanted was to call you, let you know we were finally going to be parents...

"I can't promise that things will return immediately to the way they were. I can't promise I won't be mad at you, because I am, I really am."

You shifted in your seat to face him better. Your eyes trailed his face; how you missed it. The lovely cheekbones you loved to trace on lazy Sunday afternoons, the forehead you loved to kiss on clingy mornings. He looked just as bit as handsome as he did the last time you'd seen him. His eyebags were deeper and more sagged, but that didn't stop him from being the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes upon.

"But... I'm willing to try."

Bruce's head shot up.

What?

"You really hurt me, Bruce. I thought I’d never be happy again, thought my life would be ruined forever. I thought I'd lost the love of my life." Your voice failed. "But... although your idea was just terrible, you might have had the best intentions in mind. I just... Wish you'd have spoken to me first."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It killed me inside, it really did. But everything I do has always been for you. You must know that. Must know that every decision I take, good or bad, light or not, is always with you in thought." This time, Bruce did not avert his gaze. He was done looking away, done hiding, done being without you. Should this be the last time he ever saw you, he lingered on your face, committing it to memory. Your pretty eyes, the beautiful shape of your nose, your slightly parted lips. Had anyone ever been this beautiful?

"I know," you replied, giving him hope. "Which is why... Why I'm..." It took a deep breath and a few circles rubbed on top of your stomach to calm you down. This was a huge decision to make. Allowing Bruce back into your life could either be the greatest thing you would do, or possibly the worst. There was no middle-ground, and it scared you. You needed a middle-ground, needed a safety net, needed something that did not put your unborn son's life at risk.

And yet... You couldn't help but still want Bruce. You knew it. Your heart knew it. It still beat for him as loudly as it did the first time he'd kissed you, the time he'd asked you to be his, the first time you woke up with him by your side. You knew his intentions were good. His idea was terrible – fucking terrible – and it had only cost you pain and sadness. But you also knew Bruce made reckless decisions when it came to you. He was in love, and he was extremely protective. He had no one aside from Alfred and you and knew damn well he couldn't get rid of the old butler even if he tried; but would try his hardest to get rid of you if it only meant you got to live another day.

It was both endearing and soul-crushing, as things often were with Bruce.

"Which is why I'm willing to give you another chance."

Bruce released a sigh of release, and dropped his head to his hands, unable to say a word.

"Again, I can't promise I'll forgive you over night. I've just had the worst few months of my life. I won't fall back into your arms immediately. But I want to give you a chance to make things right."

It was only when you saw his shoulders shake, that you realised Bruce was sobbing. You placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and felt him shake his head.

"Bruce?" you asked, "Please talk to me, are you alright?"

He looked up at you and smiled. You quickly realised they were tears of joy.

"I love you so, so much. And I will spend every day of my life for as long as I shall live showing it. I'll make things right. I know I can't take back these past few months, and I know I can't magically take away the pain – nor can I wish for your forgiveness all at once. But I'll make it up to you. Forever. That is my promise to you. Because I love you. Fuck, it's insane how much I love how much I always have. You're my family, and I never want to be parted from you. Ever again."

He reached towards your face, his fingers wiping away something wet. Were you crying? Surely tears of joy too.

"I love you too, Bruce. I never really stopped."

He nodded and leaned closer to your face, eyes dropping to your lips. It was a small question, but he wanted to be sure.

"Is this okay? Can I?" he asked, eyes never leaving your mouth. "Please?" The last question was whispered so softly, you were actually not sure if you'd actually heard it, or just imagined it.

You replied in kind.

"Please."

And without missing a beat, he pressed his lips against yours.

His kiss was familiar. It felt like home. Bruce kissed slowly, taking his time. He was learning you all over again, tongue playfully fighting with yours. His hand cupped your cheek, and he brought you closer to him. It felt nice, it felt familiar, it felt like home.

You still perfectly in his arms, and the thought made Bruce smile into your kiss, pouring even more of himself into it. You gave back tenfold, pressing against him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You missed this. Missed him. Missed not knowing where you ended and he began, missed feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest, missed the soft groans that rumbled in his chest, missed being enveloped by him.

When you two eventually parted for air, he did not rest, kissing every inch of your face, until you were smiling and giggling and holding his face in place so you could look him in the eye.

"I love you." You spoke.

"I love you too," he replied, before caressing your stomach. "I promise I'll be here for him. I love him so much already. I'll spoil this boy rotten, give him everything he ever needs."

You smiled.

Your life had taken quite a nasty turn after Bruce had "cheated" on you and dumped you. Back then, you thought it was merely because he was, after all, the billionaire playboy everyone accused him of being. Now, you knew it was only because he loved you more than anything and wanted to keep you safe. Yes, he had hurt you, and you wouldn't forget that so easily – but it had still been an action out of love.

You'd been so lost the day you found out you were pregnant, crying on the bathroom of a hotel, clutching your stomach, and feeling like shit.

But right now, with Bruce by your side, his hands on your stomach and cheek, and his eyes regarding you with such tenderness, such warmth, you knew all would be fine.

You'd finally found each other again.

A/N: Whew!!!! We made it!!! Yay!!!! Okay so, in case you've made it this far and are interested to find out what the hell happened to me, just keep on reading!

So, as I mentioned before, I just got back to uni. It's killing me. It's kicking my ass. I've been sleeping less than 5 hours per day, and am currently losing my sanity. I don't have the time to sleep, to study, to write. There's so much to do and it's only the second week, and I'm really sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic. I can't remember the last time I slept more than like, 5 hours.

So, this fic is a bit longer than my other 200 Followers Event one. Here's the thing: I got a lovely request from @xxemmarldxx, but in my mind, it was far too big, and far too ambitious for a short 2/3k word drabble (which was the point of my event). So I told her I would do it properly some other time, because it was just too good, but would end up being way too big.

A few days later, I get this request. And they're very similar. Like, really, really similar. So I was like "You know what. Let's combine them. How about we combine the two, and write a big ass drabble the way I wanted to?"

This is the result. I've been writing this for the past week, and to be fair, it was KILLING ME. I was writing in every possible break, using every free space possible to get a few words in, and at some point, I started seeing it more as a "chore" than something I wanted to do. It became "the fic I need to finish", sort of like a burden. And it's not the requesters fault!!! It's just, I was so busy that, in the middle of everything, I couldn't find joy in writing because I was so stressed.

I'm sorry if this piece is bad. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I've done much better in the past, and this is not my best work. The word count got away from me and by the end I was just freaking out because I couldn't write anymore. And that was a real bummer because I love writing and I loved this request so much.

I hope you guys liked reading it and enjoyed it! I really do! I think that for a while I won't be able to write Bruce hahaha, I got a bit tired.

Anyways, I hope you're all having an amazing day!!! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x reader #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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lowkeyremi · 6 months

Text

Happy Birthday kenma x fem!reader

note: this is my first time writing real smut, i think. tell me what u guys think. i need feedback so i can get better. also had my friends proofread this for me, that's how anxious i am lol

Word count: 1.2k

CW: smut 18+, unprotected sex, P -> V sex, quickie, kissing, kenma is a whore and a lazy mf, reader has fem parts and is referred to as a girl, creampie, you pull his hair once, pet names.

divider cred: kithsune

"Ken! They're waiting for you what in the-" Your boyfriend, the birthday boy, is hurling you down the stairs... Into the little closet under the stairs to hide from his friends.

"I don't wanna hear Kuroo and Bokuto's shitty happy birthday singing." He mumbles quietly to you. Kuroo somehow has impeccable hearing. It's easy for him to pick your boyfriend out of a crowd with no problem.

"Oh come on Kenma, you listen to them sing every year. This one won't be any different." The closet provides no light and is stuffy. Even though you can't see your boyfriend you know there's a big pout on his face.

"Please.. it's so embarrassing. They always record it because they know I hate it." He grabs your hand, squeezing softly. His face is so close to yours you can feel his warm breath tickle your skin.

"Okay, then what do you suggest we do? They're gonna start looking for us soon. I'm sure the closet is kind of an obvious spot." One thing you'd never take into account when first dating Kenma was his sneakiness. So of course when you feel his hand slip up your shirt you gasp in shock.

"In the closet?" The disbelief in your voice caused a soft chuckle to escape the gamer's throat. You've watched him become more of a man every day, little by little. His deep voice reminds you of how in high school Kenma's voice was high pitched. He was the definition of puberty.

"Yeah, I haven't had you today because you've spent all day planning this dumb party. I think I'm ready for my birthday present."

He can't see you but he knows your body well enough to find those plush lips and plant a sloppy kiss on them. You meet his lips trying to match his slow pace. If you were being honest you wanted him too.. all day long.

His hands move from your tummy down to your ass, giving it a little squeeze. "I love your ass." He says opening his mouth while you continue to give him open-mouthed kisses along his pretty face.

"I think I can tell." You wrap your arms around his neck, placing little kisses on his neck. You know he likes it.

You're still unsure of doing this, mainly because all of Kenma's friends are not too far from the closet that has no lock on it. Things could easily go south. Kuroo would love to get in on the action if he were to find you guys, he has before.

A slim finger hooks onto your waistband and slowly pulls at it. "Quit being a tease. If we're doing this, then hurry up." Kenma only smirks at your sudden urgency.

Kenma closes the distance, his voice soft in your ear, "Calm down momma." He's playing dirty now.

He knows that nickname makes you fold. Every. Damn. Time. With your brain being slightly clouded he's able to take control.

You were suddenly grateful for the lack of light in the closet because you weren't planning to wear any cute panties until all the guests left.

He caresses your thigh, dragging out the growing arousal in your gut. There's most likely a wet spot on your panties right now.

"Is it bad I'm already hard?" His voice is hoarse even though you guys haven't done anything yet.

"Stop playing, touch me, Ken." You whine getting fed up with his incessant teasing.

"Okay, princess, whatever you want." Without wasting any time your panties are pulled down and two of Kenma's fingers find your dripping cunt.

He's quick to push his fingers in. It hurts just a little bit but the pain goes away as his fingers work you open. "Hah, so good cuz of my skillful gam-"

"Fuck- if you say your 'skillful gamer hands' I'm going to leave this closet." Kenma knows you won't leave the closet, not when he's fucking you so good with his fingers.

Your boyfriend continues at a quick pace. To stay upright you have one hand gripping his shoulder, while your other reaches to rub sloppy circles into your clit.

"So pretty when you touch yourself." He moans rather loudly. It takes him by surprise when you stop touching yourself to cover his mouth. Your juices get on his face.

"Shhhh. Your loud ass is gonna get us caught." Instead of listening to your warning, he tries to push you over the edge. His other hand finds your clit that you abandoned. You would think that his movement would be sloppy, but yet here he is being precise with the way he fucks you with his fingers.

This time around you let out a moan, not as loud as Kenma's. You've concluded that your boyfriend is kind of a slut for you.

Kenma knows that you're getting close. The way your breathing changes, the way you desperately clutch to him, the way you stumble on your words, he loves all of it.

"Getting close?" He teased.

You don't say anything- or more like you can't say anything. Pleasure clouds your mind. All you want is to cum.

"Hah- can't cum yet baby. 's my birthday." With that statement, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt to admire the slick on them.

The blonde pulls his cock free from those restraining pants of his. A small groan escapes those plush lips of his when he thumbs at his slit. And he doesn't warn you before entering your pussy.

You gasp rather loudly, his cock filling you up to the brim just the way you like it.

Kenma lets out the loudest moan ever when he feels your tight pussy squeeze him. You count about a minute before he starts to move.

His thrusts aren't calculated as usual. Kenma is a very smart person and weighs out his options before doing something, but when it comes to you, he always loses himself. He calls you the most dangerous weapon.

The grip you have on his shoulders is deadly. You decide to kiss him, only to shut up his loud moans.

Kenma continues at this uneven pace, fucking up into your dripping cunt. You move one hand into his hair to pull at it.

"Shit, Mommy- feels so good," Kenma whines into your ear and you melt on the spot.

Kenma feels you squeeze his cock more than you did before. Your eyes screw shut and you see white.

"I'm gonna-"

Kenma beats you to it by a few seconds. That pretty cock of his paints your insides white, not slowing down for a second. The sounds your bodies make slapping against each other are loud and obnoxious.

You're quick to cum after him, pleasure taking over your body, which almost gave out and it wasn't even crazy sex.

"Ken, we... we gotta hurry up. I'll go change and-"

Kenma finds your panties, and pulls them back up, a sinister smile growing. "Be good mama, don't let them know what we were doing."

"You don't expect me to go out there full of-"

"Hell yeah, I do." He pulls his boxers and pants up.

In the closet, he grabs your hand while leading you out.