#oh we turned UP THE SATURATION FOR THIS BABY

[allysunny]

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

Congrats on 200 followers, SOOOO DESERVED!!!

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

Thank you in advance, much love! 🫶🏻

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

Words: 15.8k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Either way, he was enthralled.

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

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

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

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

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

""Your money back?"

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

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

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

"Bruce Wayne? Does he dress like this?"

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

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

You only seemed to get better by the second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"After you."

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

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

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

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

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

You pondered your options.

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

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

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

And Bruce loved it.

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

But above all, he loved you,

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

Alfred was very fond of you too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Batcar?" Bruce asked, cringing.

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

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

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

"Just get on with it."

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

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

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

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

"You're wearing the suit next time.”

Your engagement was happily lived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did my best.” Was his response.

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

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

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

“It definitely wasn’t made by you.”

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

Your eyes lit up and you smiled at him jokingly.

“Is that a promise?”

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

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

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

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

“You bumped into me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And thankfully, he usually did.

You two had a sort of unspoken deal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, the future held other plans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

How did he know about him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t say you could shoot –“

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

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

That had been close.

Too close.

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

That was too close.

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

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

“He knew who I am.”

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

“Did he now?”

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

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

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

The Batman was gone.

“ – Best.”

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

What was he going to do?

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

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

And Bruce couldn’t have that.

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

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

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

You couldn’t.

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

He tried hard to think of what to do.

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

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

And yet, it would keep you safe.

Bruce loved you.

So, so much.

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when it hit him.

You had to see it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A handsome raise by Master Wayne.”

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

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

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

Alfred sighed sadly, before following you.

“I’m afraid Master Wayne is busy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Weird. Are you sure he’s alright?”

“I suppose so, Miss.”

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

“Yes, Miss.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was for your own good.

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

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

You were quick to move aside.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry – “

“I’m sure you are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

“We can’t be together anymore.”

Your eyes widened. What?

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

These words hit you like a truck.

Didn’t love you anymore?

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…”

“Just tell me, Bruce!”

Bruce sighed, looking away.

“Three months.”

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

The whole situation made you nauseous alright.

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

You couldn’t stare at him any longer.

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

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

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

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

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

You sneered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And walked out, suitcase in hand.

“Alfred, make sure you take her – “

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

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

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

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

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

But all of that was over now.

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

Master Wayne was miserable before you.

He was sure he’d get worse now.

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

“Did you pay her?”

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

“She won’t tell a soul.”

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

In his head, this was the only solution.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is there anything you wish, sir?”

“No, you’re dismissed.”

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

He’d lost you, sure.

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

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

Nothing else mattered, as long as you were safe.

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

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

At first, Bruce was terrified.

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

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

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

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

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

“I loved her, Alfred. I still do.”

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

Bruce tried to follow that mentality.

For months, he tried to forget you.

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

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

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

But he was left with nothing.

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

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

Days passed; seasons changed.

The daily cycle continued, interrupted.

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

Winter became spring, spring became summer.

And Bruce Wayne’s heart remained unmended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alfred?” he asked, closing his newspaper.

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

“Don’t I pay you enough for that?”

“Not nearly, sir.”

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

Alfred nodded with a small smile and exited the car.

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

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

“Really?”

“Really, sir. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, this respite did not last long.

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

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

And what he saw stole his breath away.

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

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

Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was as if the whole world faded away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were that thread, Bruce thought to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

Was it selfish of him to want you back?

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

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

He needed you back.

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

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

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

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

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

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

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

"Please."

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

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

Your brain yelled at you though, telling you to stay away from him. This man had ruined your life, used you and thrown you aside. You had no use for him. You deserved better.

And yet, your heart still yearned for him. You couldn't lie – as soon as you laid your eyes on him, it did a little flip, at it usually did.

As it used to do. Not anymore. You're not his anymore.

"Fine," you mumbled, shaking your head. "But not now. I'm busy."

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding desperately. "When can you meet me? Tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Is it too soon?"

It's not soon enough, you thought. You really did not have anything else to do today but thought it better not to tell him. You couldn't give him all you wanted at once – you were afraid your poor heart couldn't take it.

Still, something inside you couldn't hide how much your heart still wanted him.

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Great, great. 4 in the afternoon? I could have Alfred pour us something? Maybe a few biscuits?"

It was endearing, how desperate he seemed to get you to sit with him. It was cute.

Stop it. He's not "cute", he ruined your life and tossed you aside. You just want closure. That's it – closure. That's all you want from him.

"Fine. Can I go now?" You asked, before shaking your head and rephrasing. "I'll be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait – Should I send for a driver?"

"Unless the Manor has disappeared and teleported somewhere else, I think I can manage." Saying this, you walked away, leaving Bruce at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. There you were, in front of him, and just as quickly as he'd spotted you, you were gone. You were every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. He thought of your pregnant belly, and a shiver ran down your spine.

Whose baby was that? Was it his? Were you carrying another man's child? And why were you back in Gotham? Whatever reason it was, he silently thanked the heavens. It'd brought you back to him, and that's all that mattered. With a newfound sense of determination, Bruce ran back to his limo, where Alfred was still waiting for someone to fix his tire.

"Call the company," he exclaimed, out of breath and panting as he reached the older man. "Cancel all my meetings. Today's and tomorrow's."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. What the hell did his boss get into this time?

"May I ask why, sir?"

Bruce beamed.

"We have company."

Alfred had mixed emotions about you coming to visit.

On one hand, he was more than glad to see you. He missed you terribly, his book club pal, his gossiper, his nearly adoptive daughter. He looked forward to hugging you again, speaking to you, asking you how you were doing and learning how these past few months had been going for you.

On the other hand, he was positively mortified. He knew Bruce hadn't dealt very well with your absence, and he was afraid of what his young master might do now that you were here and willing to listen to him. And what would he say anyway? He knew Bruce was suffering and had never stopped loving you, but he didn't expect for him to actually try and win you back as soon as he laid eyes on you.

Sighing, he adjusted the tray on top of the kitchen counter, smiling when he heard the doorbell. Walking towards the entrance, he fixed his tie – he too wanted to look presentable for his favourite young lady – and opened it. Your sight was enough for his smile to grow wider. He took you all in, and his eyes got larger as he spotted the large bump on your stomach.

"Hey Alfred," you said, sporting a soft smile and another summer dress – this one, light green.

"Hello Miss." He replied, tears in his eyes. It made him emotional, you with your hands slowly supporting your growing stomach. He'd wanted to see this sight for so long, and while it was endearing, and you looked radiant, it was also heartbreaking that he hadn't been there to see most of it, and that neither had Bruce.

The very same question passed through his head: Whose baby were you carrying?

"You've got room for a plus one?" You asked, eyes dropping to your stomach.

"I think we can manage."

You walked inside, and hugged Alfred tightly close to you. You too saw him as family, and it had broken your heart to cut contact with him. At first, you thought about keeping his phone number and calling him occasionally; but after learning how everyone wanted to get their eyes on you, you decided that perhaps it was for the best if you ceased contact completely.

"I missed you so much, Miss. The Manor is not the same without you," he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"I missed you too, Alfred," you replied, tears forming in your eyes aswell. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I – "

"It's alright, Miss." He pulled away, looking into your eyes with that kind, warm, parental gaze of his, "I understand. I'm just glad I got to see you again."

With this, he led you towards the living room, where Bruce was already, pacing back and forth. It almost made you chuckle – big bad Bat by night, reckless playboy by day Bruce Wayne was pacing circles inside his living room, visibly worried sick.

"Master Wayne," Alfred said, signalling your arrival.

Bruce looked up and you'd think you had just offered him the cure to eternal life or something by the way his gaze held yours.

"Hey," he said, walking towards you, but thinking better of it and standing a few steps away from you. He held forward his hand, hoping that you'd somehow shake it. You did not, and he dropped it.

"Would you like something to drink? Alfred prepared coffee."

"I don't drink coffee. It makes me nauseous." You softly placed your hands on your stomach, and Bruce got the hint immediately,

"Yes – yes, of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. By the look of it, tousled and unkempt, you figured he'd been doing that quite a lot for at least the past half hour. "Is there anything else you'd like, though? A cup of water, perhaps some tea?"

"Tea would be fine, thank you." You turned to look at Alfred when you said these words, although Bruce could tell immediately they weren't for him by the way your voice was coated in sugar –  something he knew he hadn't earned just yet. "You still know my favourite?"

"Of course, Miss," Alfred nodded politely with a smile, "I'll get it for you right away," and made his way towards the kitchen.

You and Bruce remained in silence for a while before he seemingly broke out of a trance.

"Please, do sit down."

You did so, carefully tucking a pillow behind your back, you stretched your legs ever so slightly and sighed in relief, hands resting on top of your stomach. "There, there", you mumbled, "All comfy, aren't we?"

Bruce eyed you and your stomach. There were so many things he wanted to ask you, and yet he did not know where to begin. Should he address the elephant in the room? Should he let you speak about it? What if you did not want to talk about it? Maybe the child wasn't even his – you could've moved on and started a life without him. He has no right to ask.

"You're looking..." he began. You waited for a continuation, and it surely came, seconds after. "Beautiful. Radiant."

"Thank you," was your polite response. You looked around the room – nothing had changed. Still the same paintings up on the walls, still the same portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne holding a very tiny and very happy Bruce, still the same scent of lavender and books.

Still home.

"How have you been?" he asked, sitting down on the couch positioned next to yours, and trying his best to relax.

"How have I been?" you repeated. He wanted to catch up? Really? As if everything you had together in the past had meant nothing?

"Yes," he nodded, gesturing towards yourself. "How have you been these past few months?"

You scoffed. Fine. If he wanted to do this, then he would see it through until the very end.

"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Bruce." You said, venom evident in your words, dripping off them. "In fact, these last few months have been the jolliest of my life. The man I was in a relationship with, who's also the man who had proposed to me broke up because he said he did not love me anymore, and was fucking some random woman when I walked in on him, then he kicked me out of our home, had to go live in a hotel room for a few weeks before I finally got a place far, far away from his prying eyes, cutting edge technology and vigilante alter ego, then I have to deal with gossip magazines wanting to photograph my face and get some sort of statement from me, going as far as to trying to break into my house just to find out what truly happened."

Bruce winced at the harshness of your words. You'd had some terrible couple of months, clearly, and he didn't know what to say.

"But hey! How have you been, Bruce? How's life?" You were being sarcastic – that much was evident, and although he did deserve every ounce of cruelty you gave him, it also hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You can't imagine just how sorry I am... And how much I regret what happened."

"Ah," you sneered, twisting your face in disgust, "Is this why you invited me here? Because you regret hooking up with whoever that was back then? Got into a mess you couldn't undo? Miss me, oh so much, and need me back?"

Each word was like a dagger being plunged into Bruce's heart. Had heartbreak turned you so bitter?

No, not bitter. You were right, after all.

"I'm sorry," he said your name softly, sighing deeply. "I need to tell you something."

"And I'm sure I can't wait to hear whatever it is." You scoffed. Alfred quickly entered the living room, placing a tray with two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. He carefully handed you one of them, before walking away. Bruce's nose scrunched. Ouch.

"Thank you," you smiled at the butler, took a sip out of the mug, and sighed contentedly. "This man makes the best tea I've ever drank."

"He really does. But as I was saying, I need to tell you something."

"Bruce, I don't want to hear sob stories. I didn't come here to hear you whine and moan and complain about your life. I'm sure you suffered a lot, but I am not really interested." There you went again, sarcasm coming naturally to you and your words.

"I just need to tell you what really happened."

Another sneer.

"I saw what really happened Bruce. Stop it with the bullshit."

"Just – " Bruce took another deep breath. "Please. Just listen to me without any interruptions, please. If you want to scream at me and yell and slap me and punch me after, then that's okay."

"Tempting."

"But please, just let me speak."

"Okay."

Bruce looked at you in surprise. Okay? Just like that? So willingly?

"That's why I came here, isn't it? Please get it over with."

The man before you nodded. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. It was time for you to know the truth.

"Back when we were engaged," he began, "There was this one night I went on patrol. And everything was going fine, until I ran into Crane."

You furrowed your brows. "Crane?" Then, you remembered what he'd said about interrupting, and muttered a quick "Sorry, go on."

"I ran into Crane."

It was almost as if Bruce could see the whole thing playing before him. The darkness of the night, the faint smell of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, the one he was immune to. It was all so clear in his mind – after all, that night was the beginning of the end.

"He started talking to me. Trying to get into my head, as he usually did. But that time was different. He... He started talking about me, my own personal life, my identity. And then he mentioned you." His gaze fell on you, and you were met with hopelessness and despair. It was heart-wrenching.

"He knew you. Knew you, he knew who you were, knew who I am. He threatened to tell Arkham City residents our identities. He threatened to hurt you if I didn't help him."

Your face was pale with worry.

"And what did you do? You didn't help him, did you? It's Crane!"

"The GCPD intervened and killed him on the spot. Some rookie officer convinced it was the best thing to do. Crane was holding a phone in his hand when he died. It contained files, files about all those close to me. I got to delete everything just before he sent it."

You listened attentively. No one had ever gotten as close to unmask Bruce. Well, no one until Crane. You had heard of his death, but only thought it was a good thing that such a criminal was out of the streets.

"And I..." Bruce hesitated. This was the hard part, telling you what he'd done, the hard choice he'd made. "I thought... It was unthinkable to lose you. I just couldn't. Crane had gotten too close. I was terrified darli – " he quickly corrected himself, switching to your name. "I couldn't lose you... I barely slept that night, thinking of what could've happened to you."

In your face, Bruce could see some recognition. Were you putting the pieces together? Did you know?

"I thought..." he continued, "I thought I had to keep you safe. And in my mind, you'd never be safe if you were with me. As long as you were associated with Bruce Wayne, you'd be in constant danger."

"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head,

"And you're so stubborn..." Bruce's eyes shed with unshed tears, voice carrying an amount of emotion you weren't familiar with. "You'd never listen to me. You'd stick by my side and argue that you loved me and didn't care about the danger..."

"You didn't..." you covered your mouth.

"So, the only plausible explanation was driving you away."

The tension shifted immediately in the room. Bruce couldn't tell what was going through your head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"I paid someone to put on that little show with me, that day. I knew you were coming home early. It pained me so much to do it, I swear..."

"I can't believe this..." you stood up, attempting to do it quickly but failing because of your stomach. "I can't believe you would do that."

Bruce remained sitting, not wanting to distress you any further.

"Please, you have to understand – everything I did was for your protection."

"So you cheated on me to drive me away!?"

"We were going to get married! If you shared my name, you'd share your enemies, and I promised I would never drag you into my other life. I promised to keep you safe."

"Yeah!" You threw your arms up in the air in frustration. "So! You could've taught me martial arts! Gifted me a taser! Taught me how to throw a punch, give me a gun or something! Instead, you thought the brightest idea was to dump me?"

"It hurt like hell; it really did. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat – I was in hell without you." Bruce was getting desperate. This is not how he wanted things to go, not how he'd pictured it going. You were freaking out, understandably so, but some part of him was hoping you would understand. Would you ever?

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" You were getting angry now. This whole conversation was pissing you off.So Bruce had broken your heart because he wanted to protect you!? "We're two responsible adults, Bruce! You could've told me what happened."

"I couldn't. You would've never agreed to stay away from me."

"Exactly! Because I love you! I'd have stuck with you through thick and thin!"

Bruce was so engaged in the argument; he missed your slip. Love, not loved. Present tense.

"And that was precisely what I didn't want to happen! I didn't want to come home one night and found you dead on the ground or kidnapped! I was doing it all for you!"

"By breaking my heart."

"It had to be done."

"It didn't.

"I was thinking of you."

"How old are we, Bruce!? 16? 17? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Alfred had tried to exit the perimeter. He didn't want to be anywhere near you two, but decided against that decision. Someone had to be able to step in and protect the young master. He was positive that given the chance, you'd throw something at him, and that was sure to leave a mark. He didn't doubt your abilities.

"I'm so sorry," Bruce pleaded, "But once again, please understand. I was just doing what i thought was best."

"You left me!"

"I was protecting you!"

"You left me, Bruce!" You yelled, unable to fight back your tears. Once again, you didn't know what got you so agitated. Maybe your hormones, maybe the lingering feelings you deep down still had for the man sitting down before you. "I loved you; I needed you by my side, and you left me! Because you thought someone was coming after me? You said it yourself – Crane did not send the files to anyone. We were safe. We were fine. And you went and destroyed everything we had because of some fear you had?"

It was Bruce's turn to stand up, defensively placing his hands in front of his chest.

"I couldn't lose you. Please, please, you have to forgive me. I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have done it, I know. I miss you – I miss you so much, I have for the past few months, I can't live without you."

"I couldn't live without you either and had to make do! I still have to!"

"There was an uncomfortable silence as the last few words hung in the air. It was then that Bruce decided to finally ask the question he'd been meaning to ever since he first saw you on the street.

"Is the child mine?"

You widened your eyes, looking away from him. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach.

"You have no right to ask that."

"Please. Just... Is it mine?"

You thought it over. There was no use in hiding it. The child would most likely grow up to look like him, bear his eyes and smile, scrunch his nose in the way his father did when confused. And for all it was worth, Bruce deserved to know. He wasn't a bad person, and you knew he'd be a good father.

"Yes," you mumbled, softly.

Bruce didn't hesitate to ask his next question.

"When did you find out?"

"A few days later. I was all by myself, and so scared, Bruce..." Sitting down, you looked at the floor, finding a sudden interest in examining your shoes. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done... Bearing this child all by myself, without you... As soon as my stomach started showing, I had to get out of here. Tabloids were going crazy, and I didn't want you finding out. I just wanted a normal life for him."

"Him?"

"Yeah. I know for sure, it's a little boy. I love him so much already..."

Bruce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He knew he'd screwed things up the first morning he woke up without you by his side, but this was simply too much.

"I love you." The determination with which he said it took you by surprise. "I always have. I never stopped. I'm sorry for what I did. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I knew I would put you through hell, and I still did it because it would be the best for you. I'm so sorry."

These words did not fall on deaf ears. You were listening, hung up on every word. Bruce was right there, right in front of you, apologizing and confessing he still loved you. And didn't you love him back? Hadn't you spent countless nights crying over his absence, wishing it were his fingers wiping away the tears that refused to stop, wishing that he was there next to you the moment you realised you were pregnant, wishing he would hug you tightly, kiss your forehead and assure you everything would be fine? That it had all been a very bad nightmare and you were back at home with his body wrapped around yours?

"I... I don't know how I should feel," you said. Which was partially true. Some part of you did still love him, but he'd put you through too much heartache. You weren't about to just forgive him and kiss all his worries away and pretend nothing had ever happened. "You really hurt me, Bruce... I don't know if I can go through that again. What if someone else gets a hold of my information? Of your identity? Are you going to push me away again? Push our son away?"

Bruce looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and in one quick motion, was down on one knee, hands desperately wanting to rest on top of yours. "I promise," his voice was soft, and it reminded you of your sweet Bruce, of the man you'd fallen in love with and were ready to love forever, "It won't happen again. I'll do better next time. Hell, there won't even be a next time. I promise. I can't live without you."

"Bruce, I... It's not as simple as that..."

"You don't love me anymore?"

"That's not what I said."

"So you do?" A hint of a smile.

"Gosh, Bruce, stop it! What you did was terrible – it destroyed me. Those were the worst months of my life, you have no idea how it felt to be me, alone and pregnant and scared! You can't just waltz back into my life and tell me you love me and are sorry. I don't trust you anymore. It's just not that simple."

"I understand."

Bruce sighed and stood up.

"I just wanted to tell you the truth, anyway. You deserve it. I'm really sorry for what I did."

Once again, you're basked in silence. This time, it was you who broke it, with a question of your own, one that had plagued you ever since he told you everything was staged.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your voice was meek, fragile. Did you want to know the truth?

"No." Bruce answered with determination. "We didn't have sex. I wasn't really naked."

Your eyes widened.

"I guess you were too mad to notice." He smiled sadly.

You looked away at the ground.

Somehow, it did make you a little more at ease that he hadn't really had sex with that woman. It didn't erase all of your pain but gave you some slight respite.

"Have you been with anyone, after..."

"No." He answered again. "There was never anyone else. Never could be. There was only just you. There's always been just you."

You nodded thoughtfully.

"Would you like to feel your son?"

"Huh?"

"He's kicking. Would you?"

Bruce gave you an enthusiastic nod and sat beside you, allowing you to guide your hands to the exact spot the baby was kicking him. Sure enough, he felt something press against his hand repeatedly. He chuckled, automatically leaning forward to feel it better.

"Hey there, little guy," he whispered. "I can't believe you're real."

You stood there for a while, him by your side, hand on top of your stomach. It felt weird, but in a comforting way. It was just you and Bruce and your unborn child, and you somehow felt like things were okay. Everything was fine.

"I've never stopped loving you either," you said after a while. Bruce turned to you, allowing you to speak. "When I found out I was pregnant, all I wanted was to call you, let you know we were finally going to be parents...

"I can't promise that things will return immediately to the way they were. I can't promise I won't be mad at you, because I am, I really am."

You shifted in your seat to face him better. Your eyes trailed his face; how you missed it. The lovely cheekbones you loved to trace on lazy Sunday afternoons, the forehead you loved to kiss on clingy mornings. He looked just as bit as handsome as he did the last time you'd seen him. His eyebags were deeper and more sagged, but that didn't stop him from being the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes upon.

"But... I'm willing to try."

Bruce's head shot up.

What?

"You really hurt me, Bruce. I thought I’d never be happy again, thought my life would be ruined forever. I thought I'd lost the love of my life." Your voice failed. "But... although your idea was just terrible, you might have had the best intentions in mind. I just... Wish you'd have spoken to me first."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It killed me inside, it really did. But everything I do has always been for you. You must know that. Must know that every decision I take, good or bad, light or not, is always with you in thought." This time, Bruce did not avert his gaze. He was done looking away, done hiding, done being without you. Should this be the last time he ever saw you, he lingered on your face, committing it to memory. Your pretty eyes, the beautiful shape of your nose, your slightly parted lips. Had anyone ever been this beautiful?

"I know," you replied, giving him hope. "Which is why... Why I'm..." It took a deep breath and a few circles rubbed on top of your stomach to calm you down. This was a huge decision to make. Allowing Bruce back into your life could either be the greatest thing you would do, or possibly the worst. There was no middle-ground, and it scared you. You needed a middle-ground, needed a safety net, needed something that did not put your unborn son's life at risk.

And yet... You couldn't help but still want Bruce. You knew it. Your heart knew it. It still beat for him as loudly as it did the first time he'd kissed you, the time he'd asked you to be his, the first time you woke up with him by your side. You knew his intentions were good. His idea was terrible – fucking terrible – and it had only cost you pain and sadness. But you also knew Bruce made reckless decisions when it came to you. He was in love, and he was extremely protective. He had no one aside from Alfred and you and knew damn well he couldn't get rid of the old butler even if he tried; but would try his hardest to get rid of you if it only meant you got to live another day.

It was both endearing and soul-crushing, as things often were with Bruce.

"Which is why I'm willing to give you another chance."

Bruce released a sigh of release, and dropped his head to his hands, unable to say a word.

"Again, I can't promise I'll forgive you over night. I've just had the worst few months of my life. I won't fall back into your arms immediately. But I want to give you a chance to make things right."

It was only when you saw his shoulders shake, that you realised Bruce was sobbing. You placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and felt him shake his head.

"Bruce?" you asked, "Please talk to me, are you alright?"

He looked up at you and smiled. You quickly realised they were tears of joy.

"I love you so, so much. And I will spend every day of my life for as long as I shall live showing it. I'll make things right. I know I can't take back these past few months, and I know I can't magically take away the pain – nor can I wish for your forgiveness all at once. But I'll make it up to you. Forever. That is my promise to you. Because I love you. Fuck, it's insane how much I love how much I always have. You're my family, and I never want to be parted from you. Ever again."

He reached towards your face, his fingers wiping away something wet. Were you crying? Surely tears of joy too.

"I love you too, Bruce. I never really stopped."

He nodded and leaned closer to your face, eyes dropping to your lips. It was a small question, but he wanted to be sure.

"Is this okay? Can I?" he asked, eyes never leaving your mouth. "Please?" The last question was whispered so softly, you were actually not sure if you'd actually heard it, or just imagined it.

You replied in kind.

"Please."

And without missing a beat, he pressed his lips against yours.

His kiss was familiar. It felt like home. Bruce kissed slowly, taking his time. He was learning you all over again, tongue playfully fighting with yours. His hand cupped your cheek, and he brought you closer to him. It felt nice, it felt familiar, it felt like home.

You still perfectly in his arms, and the thought made Bruce smile into your kiss, pouring even more of himself into it. You gave back tenfold, pressing against him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You missed this. Missed him. Missed not knowing where you ended and he began, missed feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest, missed the soft groans that rumbled in his chest, missed being enveloped by him.

When you two eventually parted for air, he did not rest, kissing every inch of your face, until you were smiling and giggling and holding his face in place so you could look him in the eye.

"I love you." You spoke.

"I love you too," he replied, before caressing your stomach. "I promise I'll be here for him. I love him so much already. I'll spoil this boy rotten, give him everything he ever needs."

You smiled.

Your life had taken quite a nasty turn after Bruce had "cheated" on you and dumped you. Back then, you thought it was merely because he was, after all, the billionaire playboy everyone accused him of being. Now, you knew it was only because he loved you more than anything and wanted to keep you safe. Yes, he had hurt you, and you wouldn't forget that so easily – but it had still been an action out of love.

You'd been so lost the day you found out you were pregnant, crying on the bathroom of a hotel, clutching your stomach, and feeling like shit.

But right now, with Bruce by your side, his hands on your stomach and cheek, and his eyes regarding you with such tenderness, such warmth, you knew all would be fine.

You'd finally found each other again.

A/N: Whew!!!! We made it!!! Yay!!!! Okay so, in case you've made it this far and are interested to find out what the hell happened to me, just keep on reading!

So, as I mentioned before, I just got back to uni. It's killing me. It's kicking my ass. I've been sleeping less than 5 hours per day, and am currently losing my sanity. I don't have the time to sleep, to study, to write. There's so much to do and it's only the second week, and I'm really sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic. I can't remember the last time I slept more than like, 5 hours.

So, this fic is a bit longer than my other 200 Followers Event one. Here's the thing: I got a lovely request from @xxemmarldxx, but in my mind, it was far too big, and far too ambitious for a short 2/3k word drabble (which was the point of my event). So I told her I would do it properly some other time, because it was just too good, but would end up being way too big.

A few days later, I get this request. And they're very similar. Like, really, really similar. So I was like "You know what. Let's combine them. How about we combine the two, and write a big ass drabble the way I wanted to?"

This is the result. I've been writing this for the past week, and to be fair, it was KILLING ME. I was writing in every possible break, using every free space possible to get a few words in, and at some point, I started seeing it more as a "chore" than something I wanted to do. It became "the fic I need to finish", sort of like a burden. And it's not the requesters fault!!! It's just, I was so busy that, in the middle of everything, I couldn't find joy in writing because I was so stressed.

I'm sorry if this piece is bad. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I've done much better in the past, and this is not my best work. The word count got away from me and by the end I was just freaking out because I couldn't write anymore. And that was a real bummer because I love writing and I loved this request so much.

I hope you guys liked reading it and enjoyed it! I really do! I think that for a while I won't be able to write Bruce hahaha, I got a bit tired.

Anyways, I hope you're all having an amazing day!!! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x reader #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

[loaksbitch]

i want neteyam’s head between my thighs. that’s it. that’s the thought. brought to you by midnight and tipsy 😖 anon

- 😖

“that’s it, that’s my girl.” — neteyam sully (⨳)

we all know neteyam is the good ol’ perfect soldier and warrior, but oh well, not only in fight but in tongue. — pretty anon, you just have gave me the best idea ever!

warnings : agedup!neteyam, puthy eating, slight teasing, licking, clit stimulation.. lmk if i gotta add anything!

“‘teyam.”

you’re going to be the death of him. neteyam takes your soft mewls as a boost and laps on your folds with more greed. “mm-hm.” he would moan onto your cunt, sending vibrations into you that have you curling your toes.

he loves how your hold tightens on his braids, pulling on his locks that sent him hissing and stuffing his face into your nub. fuck, you were hot mess for him.

neteyam brought his eyes up only to be met with your hazy amber eyes. both of you holding onto the fiery gaze for several moments, pouty lips parted and your moan surfacing to the air inside the hut your mate brought you.

neteyam leaned back, looking straight to your saturated folds and watching the beautiful mess he just created. “you’re so wet.” he tells you as if you’re not hyper aware of that. “sooo wet, princess.” he says, ghosting your clit with a kitten lick.

you gasp at the gesture, almost sitting on your hips when the pleasure strikes. “neteyam.” your tone was tinted with a glint of warning when the man between your thighs teases you.

whenever you wanted neteyam to go the right way? he always went to the right way but he needed to be begged. neteyam wanted to be begged by you. “tryna freak me out, baby?” his voice was so cutting edge and sharp with teasings.

“please, nete’ i need to feel you in me.” you manage to say and the gaze of the man in front of you darkens instantly. you bit your lips when his path towards your center came closer. neteyam’s pink tongue extended out, long and flat before it was dragged between your folds right to your sensitive cunt.

his eyes never left yours when he fucked your hole with his tongue.

you shuddered when you saw him tilt his head back, a clear and thin string of saliva connecting with your nectar. your throat hurts when you swallow hard, trying your hardest to not moan loudly and let the na’vi out from the hut know what’s going on inside.

“i love how you taste.” he was blunt with his words, whispering sweet nothings to you that only caused his hot breath to hit your folds.

neteyam held your body steady, swirling his tongue around your bud and flicking it softly but with the right amount of pressure. every time he did that, you felt the coil in your tummy tighten.

“hmgn..” you whimper and as the suction against your sex increased the strangled moans came out harsher and louder. neteyam was picking up on the early signs you’re showing, taking a hint that you’re close from your edge. “oh,” your mouth gaped in an ‘o’ shape when your mate slipped his finger inside your tight hole.

index and middle fingers still being inside of you neteyam curled his fingers in a ‘c’mere’ motion. he looked up at you, softly grazing his teeth on your nub while he fucked his fingers inside you.

your chest heaving up and down that overstimulation finding its way to your nerves which made you push neteyam’s head away but no, he only growled at you with annoyance. “don’t push me.” his fingers moved in ways you can’t just pinpoint.

your back arched and legs came closer, brain turned to mush and only a “i’m gonna, i’m g-gonna…” leaving your lips.

“come.” he demands, “c’mon, sweet girl, let go for me.” and you just did, you came just like you’re told and like a good girl you are.

neteyam watched you come undone with a carnal excitement and thread of pleasure. “that’s it.” he eased his finger out of you with a relieved sigh. “that’s my girl.” it felt like a pat on your head. neteyam was fast to cradle up to the hammock and take you into his arms while you collect your breath.

“you did so good for me.” a kiss was placed to your forehead and you on other hand just snuggle to his chest, too tired and spent, you just let yourself feel safe in his arms.

mooties taglist .. @justasimps-blog @love-chx @theycallmesia @fanboyluvr @sullyswife (lmk if i forgot you or want to be removed !)

#﹪﹒﹒⟢ anon reqs! #😖 anon #neteyam sully #neteyam sully smut #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar smut #neteyam avatar #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #jake sully smut #jake suy x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #atwow smut #avatar scenarios #neteyam imagine #avatar fanfiction #smut #neteyam x fem!reader #x reader

[queenimmadolla]

𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ─ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝟖𝟗' (young parents!Eddie munson x fem!reader)

masterlist • sequel

author notes: i should be working on my series, but every time i think about it’s timeline, i end up wanting to post about that specific thing, so here’s a little bit of eddie munson x fem!reader as the young parents i constantly think of them as. it’s gotten worse with all those eddie look alikes with babies pics going around. oh, and reader and eddie eloped on graduation night like i know we ALL would have done. Technically part of the CYM verse but can be read out of it. Can't put a read more thing because Tumblr won't let me, sorry. reader is 22 and Eddie is 23. **not mature** 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

* . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * .

You were on the edge of a nap, not quite out of it but not quite present. An American Tail was playing in the background, but the noise grew further and further away from your subconscious. Until you felt a sudden blunt, rough jab against your closed eye. That definitely brought you back.

You groaned, a hand reaching up to press and rub against your eye as you heard a quiet chuckle from the right of you. Once the pain had subsided, you tried your hardest to glare at your husband. It was more of a squint than anything. He didn’t even attempt to hide his smirk from his place, sat man-spread on the couch with his arms over the top cushions. “I thought about stopping her, but she looked too cute concentrating like that.”

Your gaze shifted towards the culprit, curled up nearly on top of your side. Your daughter grinned at you, displaying her tiny little teeth. Staring up at you with her father’s big brown, Bambi like eyes, and a wild head of curls that looked to be a mix of both of her parents’, it was obvious she was unapologetic and satisfied with herself for abruptly coaxing you from what was promising to be a nice nap. You had been spread out on the floor in front of the tv, playing with your daughter whenever she grew bored of the cartoon displayed before her. Eddie had been tuning his guitar before she’d woken up from her nap, and had switched to simply observing you two. Eventually, the movie had gained her attention, and you had decided it was your turn for a nap but apparently not. “Penny, ow.” You frowned at her gently. You weren’t big on punishing her because she was a pretty good kid, but she’d just entered the terrible two’s and you were hoping to put off the terrible for as long as you could by encouraging her to recognize good and bad.

“Mama ow?” She repeated, voice full of innocence and surprise, because obviously your baby hadn’t intentionally meant to hurt you. Once you nodded, still faking a frown, she made a face of her own—you loved how expressive she was, definitely something she got from Eddie—and moved further up your body until she was eye level with you.

You could immediately tell what her intentions were, so your eye shut to prepare for the kiss she pressed to it. “Mwah! No ow!”

“Thank you, Penny!” You cooed, pressing kisses into her round, chubby little face. “Awe, my girls! Love it when they kiss and makeup.” Came your husband’s responding coo. You blew him a kiss from your place on the carpet, fingers stroking over Penny’s curls. “Thanks for no help.”

“Hey—I warned you she’d have me wrapped around her drool covered fingers. Besides, I couldn’t have got to her in time.” He made no move to join you on the ground, too taken with watching you interact with the literal proof of your love for each other.

Almost two whole years later, and he was still often left stupefied as he watched you with her, completely in love with how she was a perfect mixture of you both, so much that it was difficult for most people to decide on who she looked like most. If people saw her with just Eddie, she looked like his little twin, albeit with a little more saturation and curls much more voluminous than his, and if they saw her with you, she looked like your Mini Me, with a lower saturation.

That’s how Eddie saw her. You’d argue that her facial expressions imitated his, but all he saw was the same cute little nose crinkle that had been his doom when he’d first met you, peering up at him.

Penny had his eyes, there was no denying that. Now that he was a victim to your daughter’s puppy dog stare, he often liked to wonder about how much you had allowed him to get away with because of his own. His kid was using his own tricks against him.

“She’s a girl on a mission,” You muse, your attention returning to the two year old in question, but it wasn’t your attention she had wanted in the first place this time.

Penny’s stare was focused on the area of your body she’d previously been resting against. And then like a snake, she struck. She dove for your covered boob, mouthing at it so aggressively you couldn’t do anything but burst out laughing. Eddie quickly joined you, hand forming a fist to press against his mouth as he shook with it. Penny had been clingier than ever since you had slowly, but surely, started to ween her off your breasts; however, what with being a baby and all, she still lacked the impulse control to keep her desperation at bay. “Oh, yeah.” Eddie’s chest puffed out once you’d both calmed down, and you had caved to your daughter’s demands, lifting your shirt over your boob so she could nurse. Penny seemed so pleased with herself for amusing her daddy because she also couldn’t stop bobbing around while she was attached to you. “That’s my baby girl.” You rolled your eyes affectionally, turning your head to stare at him while she played more with your nipple than nursed. You were hoping if you stayed relax, she somehow wouldn’t remember she had teeth. “You know, this is all your fault. You’re always going on and on about how you were the main ingredient for her recipe, but I’m the one she gnaws on. It’s not fair.”

“I agree,” he snorted. “It should be me gnawing on your tit.”

“Eddie!”

“What?” He laughed out, his pretty eyes getting all squinty as he stayed fixated on you with a look no short of adoration slapped on his face. “It’s true! I can barely get to second base ‘cause she always leaves your nipples sore. I love her so much, and I’ll let her twist my nipples off,” Penny had decided that was what they were best for once she realized she couldn’t get anything from them like she could yours after a few misguided attempts, “when we’re cuddling before bedtime, but she refuses to share you. And all I get to do is sit back and watch her have fun.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth, while the green eyed monster did flare its head for about .1% of the time he spent watching you take care of her and nurse her, the other 99.9% felt absolutely primal. It was crude, but the reality of it was Penny had originally been a creampie, just with a surprise in it. You’d both been stunned when you learned you were pregnant, though he had suspected it due to a few subtle changes in your behavior. It wasn’t something you really panicked over, it was just that something was. . .well, it just was.

It also helped that all he wanted out of life was to be happy with you and by the grace of some God, you shared that desire. So, Penny had come to fruition. And just like when he’d met you, Eddie found himself discovering another thing he wasn’t sure how he had lived so long without. Fatherhood.

No gig, no high, nothing would ever compare to that immense pride, that absolute satisfaction that coursed through him as he watched you hold her tiny little body against your bare chest in that hospital room for the first time before she’d been whisked away to the NICU.

“She has been clingy,” You agreed, eyes glazing over as you recall the last time you and Eddie were able to completely ravage each other and not just fuck whenever you could. It had been like four days ago, but that was still too long. “But.”

Eddie’s head tilted, his stare darkening as he waited patiently for you to continue.

“But, but, but. Since she hasn’t had as many opportunities, I’m not all that sore and tired anymore.”

Eddie sprang up from his place on the couch, plucking Penny right off your boob. It was obvious even to him that she was just playing with it at that point, and it was time he had his turn. “C’mon, little bitty pretty one, Uncle Dustin and Uncle Steve want to babysit you for an unforeseeable amount of time today.”

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader fluff #Eddie munson x reader smut #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanction #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #Joseph quinn #Joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #Joseph Quinn x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #mom!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson blurb #pennyverse

[sahyoluvr]

solemn - huh yunjin x femreader pt 2

genre: enemies to lovers, jealousy, angst, fluff

warnings: swearing, suicidal thoughts, lots of dialogue sorry

part 1

(requested by anons)

____________________________________________

since the initial moment you spared in the elevator with yunjin, there had been many similar incidences. you’d find yourselves hiding from the other members saturating yourselves in hot kisses and high tension. despite this, you still hadn’t been able to hold a comfortable conversation with her and talk to her casually. you’d get fucked and leave her room straight after.

in the beginning you’d seen yunjin had made effort in acting civil towards you, aligning with the other members in comforting you when you’d get negative comments from instructors or fans. but still, it wasn’t up to the standard of verbally involving in defence.

you lay in the arms of sakura on the sofa, she gently brushes your hair with the tips of her fingers. eunchae and kazuha were confiding in movements of the choreography, while chaewon seemed to be telling yunjin a story.

“so cute,” sakura whispers as she continues to caress your head.

you laugh and hit her, “shut up, unnie.”

“i’m serious!” she laughs.

your banter continues in a loud manner catching yunjin’s attention. as your bickering had died down, you lay back down in the same position. when yunjin noticed this her face turned sour and her heart ached.

“and so yena unnie-” chaewon stops, as she notices yunjin’s lessened intent of listening, “yunjin?”

“huh?” yunjin quickly turns back to chaewon, “yeah?”

“are you okay? you don’t look well,” chaewon asks, concerned for her odd behaviour.

“yeah i’m fine,” she replies, “i have a bit of a headache, i might go to the bathroom.”

“okay…”

yunjin dismisses herself from the practice room, aiming toward the bathroom.

you jump as you hear the door slam, you scan the room to look for yunjin’s face but she’s no where to be seen. in curiosity, you lift yourself up from sakura’s body and follow in yunjin’s footsteps.

a part of you felt relief, gaining the opportunity to de stress with yunjin but another part of you bottled up with fear in hopes of more argument.

when you enter the bathroom, you watch yunjin comb her hands through her hair in an act of frustration, and soon and she’s sees you; she stops, and stares.

“are you,” you pause in hesitation, “okay?”

“what’s it to you anyway?” yunjin scoffs turning away from you and looking back into the mirror at herself.

you sigh in the lack of civil engagement, “look,” you say, “can we ta-”

“were you having fun with sakura there?” she quickly turns back to look at you in eyes with intimidation.

“i’m sorry what?” you were baffled by the sudden interruption and subsequent change of subject.

“i saw you two, kkura unnie had her hands all over you and she would not take her eyes off you,”

“okay? and?” you look at her, bewildered by the act of her accusation, “what’s it you?”

you play at her previous words, internally proud of your comeback.

“i’ve had enough of your bullshit,” she says, deadpanned.

you laugh at her discrepancy, “are you jealous?”

“well, what does it fucking look like?”

“oh no, baby,” you half laugh, half talk, “you have no fucking right to be jealous.”

“why is that, huh?”

“because!” your voice raises, “we aren’t a couple! we’re just a fucked up, i don’t know, fling?! i’m not just your fucking rag doll that you get to throw around and fuck, i’m a person”

“you can’t be serious!” yunjin’s volume level synchronises to yours, “your the one that comes to my room, wants to fuck me and then leaves straight after!”

“because you don’t talk to me! you don’t listen to me! you still hold a big ass egoist grudge against me and it’s getting on my nerves.” you spit.

“but you always come running back to me, don’t you?”

you fall silent. she’s right, but there’s still more to say.

“stop trying to change the subject,” you say sternly, “don’t think i haven’t noticed that you’ve made little to no effort in the one thing i’ve asked for you. you still don’t have the guts to stick up for me, even after everything.”

“i’m trying!” she whines splaying her arms around in defence.

“bullshit! what’s so fucking hard for you to understand that i’m not asking for you to be all over me, i’m asking for you to defend a member of your team, your career!”

yunjin stays quiet, but you continue.

“i’m so tired of arguing, jennifer, frankly i’m tired of everything, trying to be a good friend and good a member, trying to dance to your standards, trying to sing, trying to be an idol, trying to stay alive!”

“yn-” she’s cut off by your loud voice.

“and because you don’t have a fucking care in the world to talk to me, nor look at me, i suppose, you don’t know that i’ve asked to see a therapist because your on the verge of losing a member. of their existence.”

you continue. you have trouble speaking, choking on your words every few seconds.

“i’m just not enough for you, am i? i feel like i eat, sleep, work and i can’t even spend time with the one person that i, god hope, i could love,” you stop and look at her in the eyes, “honestly, do whatever you want with me, i’ve lost all of my self respect, there’s no reason not to.”

“don’t say something you’ll regret, yn,” she stops you, “you know for a fact i wouldn’t think to do anything as disgusting as that.”

you crumble at her words, tears pricking at the brims of your eyes. what has this come to?

there’s a painfully long pause. it’s so silent that you can hear when your tears drop to the tiled flooring. your head hurt, knowingly a migraine coming on.

you felt empty from what you had spilled; slight regret now that the relationship between the two of you would never likely continue the same way it had. yunjin was everything you could ever wish to be. the way she was constantly praised, while you were berated. she was gorgeous, with or without makeup. this was reinforced by all the netizens, fans, talk show hosts, everyone. she could sing, write, perform songs all in solitude without a grain of self-doubt. when you were with her, at least the good parts, you felt like you were in heaven. all burdens and stress evaporated when she was on top of you, lips connected.

yunjin breaks the silence.

“i fucking gave up everything.” she says quietly, “i left school early, left for korea, got ridiculously humbled, went back home, almost finished college, and left home, again. i trained longer than i wish i ever could have. i know it’s not much different to you, i mean, we both lost all people close to us, friends and family when we moved here, so i need you to understand,”

you look up from the ground, she has tearing pouring from her eyes.

“after all that, i’m the best i’ve ever been, and could be. i cant lose everything i’ve sacrificed for whatever this is. i don’t want to throw away everything i’ve been through, you’ve been through, we’ve been through, for something as stupid as a dating scandal,”

“and it’s so hard, because if the members find out, then the staff do, the company will, and despite the circumstances i still can’t stand it when someone is dangerously close to the girl i-” she cuts herself off with a hard swallow, loud enough to be heard, “i’m scared i’m falling in love with you.”

you cry harder and walk towards her, holding her hand ; she falls to your touch, shoving her face into your chest. you sob while placing a hand on her back, rubbing it.

“why didn’t you ever say anything?” you manage to say.

“because i thought i should keep my distance, it would loosen the possibility of anyone finding out; if i kept cold, that way, you wouldn’t want to stay too close to me.” she mumbles, her voice is muffled by her face being submerged in your chest.

you pull yunjin off from you and grip her strongly on her shoulders. she sniffles and mumbles a ‘sorry’ after spotting the big, dark wet patch she had made on your top.

“i want to love you, huh yunjin. we’ll work it out together.” you say.

you lift her chin up with a finger and press a hard, long kiss to her lips. you both smile into the kiss.

when you walk out the door together, 4 girls stand outside with jaws dropped.

well fuck.

____________________________________________

an: long awaited part 2!! i’ve incorporated another persons request of yunjin being jealous. this will be the last part. i think i liked the first one better but whatever, this one is a bit more angsty….sorry 😟

#huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #enemies to lovers

[lipglossanon]

Hey You, Would You Help Me To Carry The Stone?

꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂

Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

This is part ii for Mr. Sinister ☽☪︎⋆ Remix

Warnings: 18+ so minors DNI, dark!leon, yandere!leon, threats of bodily harm, vomiting, obsessive!leon, stalker!leon, just Leon being absolutely bonkers insane 👌

Kinda looked over but not really proofread 😅

Title from Hey You by Pink Floyd (really fits Leon in this part)

꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂

It feels like you’re swimming in molasses; your consciousness is fighting to the surface in fits and starts. The first thing you notice is a slight ringing in your ears followed by the realization that you passed out. You open your eyes and squint at the low light saturating the room.

Trying to move your body leads to nowhere. You’re sitting in a chair with your legs tied together at the ankles and thighs; you can feel the constriction of rope wrapped around your middle, pinning your upper arms in place. You look down at your wrists and see them tied together in front of you with what looks like cloth, almost like a handkerchief.

“Oh good! You’re awake.”

Your attention snaps to the cheery voice on the other side of the room; you didn’t see the door before when looking around, but to be fair you’re still slowly coming to grips with where you are and what has happened to you.

The officer walks into the room until his boots are inches away from your own flats. Crouching down to be at a more even level with you, his lips tick up into that charming grin that tricked you in the first place.

“Sweetheart, don’t look so down. You don’t know how lucky you are,” he chastises, nudging your chin up with the knuckles on his thumb and forefinger.

“If you hadn’t have run, why we wouldn’t be here right now,” his full mouth turns down with faux sympathy, “such a shame you got caught so easily though.”

“Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone—“

He laughs, “I know you’re not. And I’m not letting you go just yet. Want to make sure we’re clear about some things first.”

You bite the inside of your cheek in an effort to stave off the tears threatening to spill.

“Please, officer. I just want to go home.”

“Aww,” he coos, running a thumb underneath your eye to catch what tears fall. He sucks the thumb into his mouth and hums at the salty taste, eyes hungry and dark.

“Don’t cry, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he leans forward and nuzzles your cheek before giving it a soft kiss. “Gonna take care of my sweet girl, give her all the love she deserves.”

At that admission more tears fall from your eyes. You can feel a panic attack hovering, ready to sweep over your senses. Your fingers feel numb and your chest’s tight.

“Baby,” his voice low and soothing, “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I just want to go home,” you tiredly whisper, voice clogged with tears.

“For now you are home,” he kisses your cheek again, tongue darting out to lick the tears dripping from your eyes.

Your vision goes woozy, bile rising in your throat so fast it makes your nose run. 

“‘m gonna be sick,” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, “really, I-I’m—“

You gag and thankfully Leon pulls away from you with soft words of sympathy. He pulls a knife from the holster on his side and quickly slices through the rope binding your chest and arms then the one circling your thighs. 

“I’m going to pick you up and bring you to the toilet,” he slips the knife back to his side, and eases you from the chair. 

He picks you up bridal style and carries you out of the room; stepping into a short hallway, he takes you into the door directly across from you. 

He eases you down onto the floor next to the toilet, ankles and wrists still tied limiting your movement. Quickly, you flip the toilet lid up and retch into the bowl. 

“There, there,” he rubs your back, making you flinch and gag harder, “you’ll feel better once it’s all out.”

Tears splash into the dirty water, snot running freely down your face as you retch again, stomach acid coating the back of your throat leaving a sour and bitter tang on your tongue. 

He continues touching you, petting your hair or rubbing your back while you puke up what little dinner is in your stomach. After you dry heave a few times, your body slumps back in exhaustion. 

“I hate that my pretty girl isn’t feeling good,” he sighs into your hair, pressing a kiss on your head. 

You’re so wrung out that you can only feel despair at the situation, no tears left to shed. Leon leans past you to flush the contents down the toilet. 

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” he stands then bends down to scoop you up in his arms bridal style again. 

He takes a few steps to set you down on the sink countertop. You watch in numb dissonance as he wets a cloth under the tap. 

“Close your eyes for me, sweet girl,” his lips curl up in a facsimile of warmth.

Not really having a choice, your eyes shut bathing your thoughts in darkness. You feel as Leon gently wipes your eyelids with the warm damp cloth. He diligently cleans up your face, making sure to clean off any traces of snot and vomit. 

You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see his crazed eyes anymore.. not wanting to deal with the reality of this situation. A few small tears drip from your closed eyelids making Leon tsk at you. 

“Look at me,” he murmurs, his low voice humming in your ears. 

Eyelashes fluttering open, you watch as that crooked smile slides over his face. 

“There she is,” he coos, “just one last thing, okay?”

You flinch at the sound of plastic cracking open and look down at his hands. He pulls out a new toothbrush from its package. Reaching around you, he runs it under the hot tap again. He pulls it back and after squeezing toothpaste across the damp bristles does he offer it to you. 

You stare at it, mind blissfully empty for a moment before Leon’s sigh jerks your attention back up to him. 

“Well I guess it would be awkward for you,” he pushes closer, titling your head up and holding your jaw, “open up for me, sweetheart.”

Keeping your mouth shut, you press your lips together more firmly. His eyes narrow down at you, a mean pinched expression coming into his face. 

“Don’t be a brat,” his thumb presses on the pressure point in your jaw making you open your mouth to stop the pain.

He slips the toothbrush past your parted lips, “See? Behave for me and everything will be just fine.”

As the minty flavor hits your tongue, humiliation bubbles up in your chest paired with white hot indignation; in this moment, you hate Leon with every atom of your body. You’ve never felt like this about anything or anyone, but you hope you convey how you feel with your eyes as you watch Leon focus on brushing your teeth. 

He lets go of your jaw to grab your chin and open your mouth wider. 

“Gotta make sure we don’t miss any spots. Don’t want my pretty girl getting cavities now, do we?” 

Before you can even think about it, you’re spitting in Leon’s face. You watch with slow dawning horror as toothpaste and spittle slide down the straight line of his nose. His pouty mouth thins, eyes darkening instantly. 

He sets the toothbrush on the counter and takes the cloth from earlier to quickly wipe down his face. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” his deep baritone makes you draw in on yourself, “apologize. Now.”

“S-s-sorry,” you finally stumble out, lips clumsy, “I-I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.”

His demeanor softens, but his face stays unreadable, “If you keep up the attitude, I’ll be forced to fix it. Do you understand?”

Fear seizes you by the throat so you nod jerkily, tears pricking at your waterline again. 

“Good girl,” he pets your hair back, “I’m going to finish what I started, but if you act up again I’ll backhand that pretty mouth, okay?”

Hands shaking in your lap, you wilt under his intense gaze, “I understand,” whisper sounding loud in the small bathroom. 

“Good,” he picks up the toothbrush and rinses it off before reapplying toothpaste. 

He holds it in front of your lips and you open your mouth without any prompting. 

His lips tick up into a mean smile, “Good girl.”

You stare at the wall just past his shoulder and let him brush your teeth. He tilts your jaw as needed, the silence so loud you can hear your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. 

You start when you feel cool plastic touch your bottom lip. Your eyes jump to his face, his own darkened gaze watching you. 

“Need you to rinse, pretty girl,” he raises an eyebrow, “not going to have any repeats, right?”

You softly shake your head no, mouth too full of foamy toothpaste to answer. He angles the cup up, water trickling slowly into your mouth. You swirl it in your mouth and angle your head to the sink and spit it out. 

“Good girl,” he praises, hand stroking your side.

You stiffen as he picks you up again, quickly carrying you back into the bedroom where you woke up. This time he sets you down gently on the bed, bypassing the chair he had you tied in earlier. He kneels in front of you, similar to earlier, and checks the bindings on your wrists and ankles. 

“Why are you doing this?” hands twisting in your lap, you bring your gaze up from them to look in his face. 

He frowns at you, “Do you really not know?”

Anxiety spiking in your chest, you frown back at him, “No, I don’t. I just want to go home. Please.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “You know I can’t do that. You really don’t know why? Or recognize me?”

That draws you up short. Your lips part to ask, but you pause, trying to think past the horror of what’s happening to you, to think back on any time you may have run into this crazed man. 

He watches the emotions flit over your face with rapt attention. 

“I-I don’t rem—“

“Sure you do,” he gently massages your calves, “there’s that one time at the grocery store.”

⋆♱✮♱⋆

Unbeknownst to you, Leon’s been stalking you around town for a long time.

His shifts at work fluctuate, but he’s always clocking out in time to tail you. This past week, in particular, you haven’t really gone out much after getting home from class. Once to the grocery store, where he discreetly followed you inside.

However, this isn’t the incident he’s referring to; the first time he ever caught a glimpse of you was after a grueling sixteen hour shift. He was burnt out. Completely dead on his feet, he’s just standing in the canned food aisle blankly staring at rows of green beans. 

Laughter snaps him out of it. It feels like his soul slams back down in his body. Blinking rapidly, he turns his attention to the end of the aisle and sees... 

You.

God, he sees you. 

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

You’re not really paying attention to him, on the phone with someone as you laugh and smile at whatever they say, but it’s enough.

It’s. 

Enough. 

He feels lighter than he has in months, in years. Just seeing your face soothes that horrible nothingness that has started to blanket his life. Everyday the same gray monotony. And now?

You’re beautiful and sweet.. perfect, you’re perfect.

He watches you now, as you shuffle along pulling cans off the shelf to drop in your basket. He stands in the same spot, hoping you’ll look at him, notice him. 

Please. 

He knows he looks like death warmed over; he’s been in the shit all day today, helping this backwater town tread water a little while longer. But he has hope. 

The little thing with wings. 

His breath catches in his chest when you walk past him. You glance over at him as you’re passing and smile. At him. 

You smile at him. 

You keep walking, attention going back to your phone call and he watches you the entire time until you’re out of sight, leaving the aisle to finish your own shopping. 

From there, it’s simple to memorize your tag and get your information. It’s simple to figure out your schedule and follow you home (for you own safety of course). 

It’s simple to see that you need someone to take care of you; you’re far too trusting— too nice to people who don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you. But Leon’s got it. He’s got you even though you don’t know it yet, but one day, you will. 

He’s saving you from those plebeians. Like that annoying library aide who didn’t get the hint you weren’t interested, who suddenly resigned and moved away; kinda odd how he favored that left side pretty severely as he avoided you on his last day. 

Or the guy at the coffee shop who slipped you his number and later found himself severely beaten by an unknown assailant; funny how the cops never found any suspects for that case. The guy stopped showing up at the coffee shop and last you heard he moved back home to be with his parents. 

This last guy who invited you out to Lovers Lane is in for a fun surprise once Leon is comfortable in leaving you here alone for a long period of time. He has lots of plans for him that he’s excited to test out. 

There’s a hungry, dark part of Leon that he doesn’t let out very often; oh it helps with his job, being around the vilest scum of the earth always brings out that nasty part of his psyche, but it helps keep the trash in check. 

It’s always boiling under the surface, lurking and waiting, but now that he’s seen you—has you— it’s like a shark scenting blood. All of his senses amplify, wanting to protect you, keep you safe from the awful reality that is the everyday in this shithole town. 

He’s prepared to do everything and anything to keep you here, to himself, and show you that only he truly knows what’s best for you. 

That stupid boy you went out with doesn’t stand a chance once Leon gets his hands on him. He touched you, had the audacity to toss you to the side— Leon pushes that from his mind before he spirals.

The chase you gave him earlier in the night ignited his blood, brought him alive like nothing has in quite some time. He felt disappointment when you were so easily caught, but you at least tried to get away, tried to fight him off; that alone sent elation and arousal buzzing through his body to the point he was afraid you would slip from his grasp in his excitement.

The fear in your eyes made his heart race, although there’s no real reason to be scared of him. Leon will never hurt you in a way that matters. Correcting your behavior isn’t hurting you, it’s only teaching you how to treat yourself better. 

Leon feels like Lady Luck is finally shining a light on his life. You’re so perfect for him. He wants to sink his teeth in your body again and again— mark you where everyone can see you’re off limits. That you belong to him. 

Your quiet voice pulls his attention back to you—back to the present. 

“I think I saw you once,” your eyes are so earnest, so lovely, “I was on the phone with my mom. I remember seeing a cop at some point while shopping.”

He smiles at you all sugar sweet, “There we go. See? You do remember me.”

“B-but I know we’ve never even talked to each other. I don’t really even know you,” tears fill your eyes, making Leon ache to take you apart with his mouth but he refrains from doing so—even though it’s so hard not to. 

“Well, now you’ll have plenty of time,” he takes your bound wrists in hand and kisses your fingertips, “you’ll get to know me and see how much you belong here.” 

His chest feels full while he watches your eyes widen, anxiousness pinching your features as you fold in on yourself. Sorrow and fear enhances your beauty to the point Leon almost feels suffocated. 

Almost. 

He smiles tenderly at you, kissing your fingertips again, “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’m here to take care of you.”

Your shoulders hitch as you sob quietly in front of him, face turned down but he can still see those glittering trails of saline caress your cheeks. That hungry want rises in him again, but he keeps it in check. 

He ticks your chin up with his knuckles and coos at your distress. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs, indulging himself again by lapping up your tears, “my sweet, pretty girl.”

Your eyes cut to his once he pulls back and it makes his cock throb and kick in his boxers. So hateful. He can see how much you want to rip into him, how you’d love to take him apart with your bare hands. He tamps down the urge to let you go, to really see what you would do to him. 

He smiles widely, gleefully, at you, but your eyes are still smoldering with hate and anguish. 

“There she is,” he purrs, voice smoky, “the perfect girl for me.”

He drags a thumb from the apple of your cheek down to your bottom lip. He sees the instant you think about lashing out, biting his thumb, but you reel it in. 

He’s dizzy at your restraint. The utter lack of action makes him want to push you further, see how far he can go, but he also reigns it in; he wants you to be on the same page. He needs you to see things his way—the right way, the only way. He’s so hard now that it hurts. 

Leon glances at his watch and frowns in distaste. 

“I hate to cut this short, but I’ve gotta go.”

He stands to his full height making you crane your head up to keep looking at him. Looking down at you, he wants you so much he’s sick with it. 

“Won’t be gone too long, sweetheart,” he slips his hands under your arms and places you back in the chair. 

“No, no, please,” you tremble, “I’ll be good, officer. Please don’t tie me up again, please.”

He watches you, sea dark eyes roving over your lovely features. 

“Promise to behave until I get back? I won’t be gone long,” he narrows his eyes at you, “and if you try anything. Anything. It’s going to be bad for you.”

You nod your head quickly, “Promise. Thank you.”

That makes him pause. He smiles at you again, brushing wisps of your hair away from your face. 

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart. Such a good girl I have. Let’s keep it that way, hmm?”

You nod again, eyes wide in your face. 

He caresses your cheek with the palm of his hand and then steps completely away. 

“Like I said, I’ll be back soon. Don’t try anything silly while I’m gone,” he laughs, a spark of excitement warming his chest, “or do. I guess I wouldn’t mind either way.”

He gives you one last lingering look as he closes the bedroom door. He locks the door lock along with the padlock he has bolted on the outside. Always better safe than sorry he thinks. 

He listens at the door for a moment and after not hearing anything except your soft crying, he steps away. Following the short hallway that opens out into the living space, he easily makes his way to the front door. 

Leon steps outside and takes his time securing the front door with a padlock on the outside as well. This place is isolated, but he’s not wanting to take any chances. Even if you did make it out of the bedroom, all of the windows have bars on them. There is no back door and the front door is made of heavy oak so there’s no way you’re kicking it down easily. 

He’s truly only worried that if you do make your way out his little hunting shack that you’re going to be set upon by a wild animal. He’s seen things like it before; careless hunters or drunk idiots coming into the precinct spouting off about the wild coyotes they stumbled across or a lone wolf, even the occasional badger or snack attack. 

You’re much too precious for him to lose in such an awful, and preventive, way. Leon tugs on the door harshly and is satisfied to see that it doesn’t budge. He pockets his keys and turns away. He whistles a jaunty little tune to himself as he takes the barely visible trail away from the shack. 

The tree trunks eventually narrow as he leaves the small clearing surrounding the place, pushing past brush and thorn bushes. Leon grins to himself as he makes his way out to the hidden area he parked his car. He’s so excited to get back to you, but first he has to make sure you’re not missed elsewhere. After all, you’re perfectly safe and content where you’re at now, he guarantees it. 

#mr. sinister remix #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy #corrupt cop!leon #dark leon s kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon s kennedy x reader #fem!reader #resident evil au #resident evil leon #lipglossanon

[futfemfantasies]

Not for long \\ giovana queiroz x reader

Prompt #30

Stirring the food in the pot, the aroma of the different herbs and spices hit your nostrils. Just as you put the wooden spoon down, you feel muscular arms envelope your waist and you lean back into Gio. You feel her pull you closer while her lips attach to your exposed neck. One hand goes under your shirt and while the other slightly underneath the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes flutter close but re-open sooner than you’d like, as you smell something burning. You quickly try to salvage the food but it was too late. You turn to Gio who has a mischievous look on her face and is laughing at your supposed ‘angry’ face.

“What are we going to eat now?” You ask, still made about the now burnt spaghetti sauce. Taking a step towards you, Gio scans her eyes up and down your frame and bites her lip slightly.

“I can think of something” Your eyes go wide at Gio’s suggestion and you lightly hit her on the arm.

“We can order in and have a lazy night okay?”

You agree with Gio’s proposal and suggest getting pizza from your favourite place around the corner. You announce you are having a shower and you’ve never heard Gio speak quicker on the phone than in that moment.

After some fun activities in the shower, you both retreat to the couch where you wait for the pizza. The doorbell rings through the apartment and you jump up with excitement, with Gio laughing and shaking her head. Oh how I’m going to miss her, Gio thinks to herself. She gets pulled out of her thoughts by a kiss on her cheek and a plate put in her lap. She quietly thanks you and busies herself by eating as many pieces of pizza her stomach allows her. You move the pizza box to the kitchen to come back to find Gio in that same position again, lost in her thoughts. You put yourself in her lap and cupped both cheeks.

“What’s going on baby?”

“I have some news and I don’t know how to tell you without crying”

“It’s okay baby, you’re allowed to cry”

One tear escapes Gio’s eyes then a waterfall appeared down her cheeks. You held her close and tight and she did the same to you. You moved to a more comfortable position where Gio was lying on top of you, her head on your stomach, saturating your tee shirt with tears but you didn’t care. You just wanted to know what has gotten your girl so upset, so you could think of some ways to help. You brush your fingers through her hair and her breathing evens out, she’s relaxed now. Gio looks up at you with her red, puffy eyes and sad smile decorating her face.

“Can you tell me what’s got you so upset now my love?” You question, tucking her loose hair behind her ear

“I’m leaving Barca at the end of the season. I’m going to Arsenal”

You take a few seconds to digest what Gio just said but then you break out in a big smile, hugging her tightly.

“This is so great for you baby”

“How do feel about it?” Gio asks you as she sits up slightly, pulling you into her lap.

“I think it’s going to be great for you babe. I just know Leah and Beth will look after you”

You talk about everything about London and Gio doesn’t appear to be upset about it now.

It’s been four long months without seeing your love and you’ve finally got time to surprise her. You picked up a little knock to your shoulder so the Barca medical team suggest 2 weeks to heal. After long discussions about recovery and the healing process with the head of medical, they let you have 2 weeks personal leave. You got back from training and dumped your kit bag at the door. You kick off your trainers and sprinted upstairs to immediately book a flight to London. You found a flight leaving in 5 hours, so you quickly text your teammates to tell them you won’t be in the country and race around to find your passport and pack your bag. In the middle of all the chaos, you almost forgot your daily call with Gio. You both talk about your day when you hear Gio sniffle, meaning she’s about to cry or has just cried.

“What’s wrong G?”

“I miss you” Gio pouted.

“It’s only temporary mi amor”

You two eventually hang up, with your lame lie of you having a team bonding lunch you need to get ready for. Gio reluctanty let’s you go and you promise to call her later. You check the time and you are set to leave in 30 minutes. You shove more random clothes, that consisted of both yours and Gio’s in a suitcase before having a quick shower and setting off.

You arrive in London and you feel like you can breath again. You whistle down a taxi and give them Gio’s address. The whole time you’re bouncing your leg and picking at the skin around your nails. You are nervous and you don’t know why. You’re about to spend 2 weeks with your girl and watch her play with her new team. A little while later, the taxi pulls up to the apartment complex and you thank the driver as he got you suitcase out of the trunk. You quickly scroll through yours and Gio’s texts to find the apartment number. As soon as you find it, you race to the elevator and put in the floor number. You practically run out of the elevator and run down the hall to apartment 347.

You take a moment to yourself before wiping the palms on your sweats and knocking on the door. You hear that accent you’ve missed so dearly yell out ‘I’ll be a minute!’. You cover the peep hole and the wooden door swings open to reveal your Brazilian beauty wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties. You both look at each other like it was the first time all over again until Gio hugs you tightly. You wince slightly due to your shoulder and Gio immediately apologises.

“What are you waiting for? Kiss me”

Gio rolled her eyes before kissing you passionately. Eventually, you both pulled away and Gio wheeled your suitcase inside. You both went straight into her bedroom and cuddled. A few hours later, you decided to tell Gio your news. You looked up at her and the golden light from the sunset shone perfectly on Gio’s features, making you fall in love with her all over again.

“I have some news” You say sitting up slightly.

“I’m all ears”

“I’m leaving Barca at the end of the season” This causes Gio to sit up too.

“Where are you going to play?”

“Arsenal”

“You’re kidding?” You shake your head and Gio leaps up from the bed and starts celebrating.

“I’m so happy for you beautiful” Gio jumps on the bed and kisses you, but both of you smiling so it’s short lived.

“I told you it was only temporary”

“I love you mi amor”

“I love you more baby"

#womens soccer #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso #woso soccer #giovana queiroz x reader

[chansbabyg]

3RACHA - Locked and Loaded

“Now that all the boys have finished their recordings We can concentrate on other important things” Han says.

Binnie gets excited at the idea of being able to spend more time with you and the boys. “Yeah, other important things like showing y/n how much we appreciate her”. He winks at Chan.

“We just wanted to make sure you got home safe” Chan laughs as they all follow you to your doorstep.

“Want to come in for a quick drink? I won't see you till you get back from Japan”. Your bottom lip playfully drops with sadness.

Your three favourite guys nodded and entered your apartment.

Time flies from the moment the first cork is popped on the champagne. Lots of chatter, lots of laughs mixed in with a bit of reminiscing.

The four of you sit on your enclosed, private balcony sharing not only one, not two but find yourselves nearly finished your 3rd bottle.

As you get up to refill your glass, Han grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. Your eyes connect. You see him lick his lips and a bolt of lightning shoots through your body.

“Oh what's going on here?” questions Changbin. “Hey Chan, check this out” Chan winks at Binnie.

Chan stands up and walks over to you as you’re sitting on Han’s lap. He leans forward so his face is centimetres from yours. You can smell his cologne and it sends more bolts through your body. “So baby girl, how would you like a bit of fun with 3RACHA before we have to head off tomorrow?”

Chan’s finger gently traces along your jawline. You find yourself closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip as you nod in agreement. A heavy breath escapes your mouth. You feel yourself clenching as you start to feel Han’s excitement rising up beneath you.

You start to think to yourself ... is this real? Am I dreaming?

You open your eyes and see Chan leaning closer to you and without hesitation his soft plump lips are connected with yours. You open your mouth to invite in his tongue, which he accepts.

As your kissing gets more heated, you notice Han is reaching around inside your dress and bra now caressing your breasts. Squeezing them, pinching your nipples and kissing your neck.

You soon find Chan nibbling his way down past your neck. Han moves one of his hands so it's wrapped around your neck while the other one continues kneading and caressing your breast. Chan moves down, freeing one of your breasts and sucking on your nipple, leaving his marks as he makes his way further down. He's now on his knees, pushing your legs apart.

His warm breath is silky as he kisses your inner thighs. Han reaches down and wraps his hands around your thighs. He lifts your legs so your feet are nestled on his thighs. Then all of a sudden you feel Chan's long digits brush past your pussy lips as he moves your saturated panties aside so he can taste your juice.

He wastes no time. He parts your pussy lips and punches his tongue inside you. You let out a high pitched shriek which the 3 boys find amusing. His nose rubs along your clit as he's devouring you. Han brings one of your arms up and places your hand at the back of his neck while your other hand is busy with your fingers running through Chan’s hair, stopping every now and again to push his head so his face is smothered with your pussy and it’s juices. The squelching noise your cunt makes as Chan eats you out turns you on even more. Chan starts to suck and lick your clit as his fingers invade your dripping hole - moving 2 fingers in and out at a slow pace.

Changbin walks over to you. He cups your face in his hands. He starts to kiss you passionately. Your body starts to writhe as Chan is bringing you close to your first orgasm. Your movements are making Han’s cock so hard. You remove your hand from Chan's hair and reach for the top of Changbin's sweatpants. He notices you struggling. He stops kissing you and decides to help. He drops his sweatpants - no boxers, no briefs. You see his cock – it’s so fucking thick – not long but thick, with a vein down the side. You want to taste it. Changbin moves in closer so you can take him in your mouth.

You lick the tip of his dick as his hand holds it still for you. You wrap your mouth around the top of his cock - Changbin responds by gently thrusting forward so you can take him further into your mouth. After only a few of Changbin’s thrusts, you unwillingly take your mouth off his cock as you're overcome with the first orgasm that Chan brings you.

Chan stands up and stands you up with him. This allowing for Han to release his cock. One look at it has you salivating. It's so fucking Pretty. It's long, straight and smooth. Han turns you around and hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties to pull them down your legs. You take off your dress and bra for him as he does this. You step out of your panties and Han once again grabs your wrist and pulls you close to him. Only this time with his pretty cock exposed - waiting to be buried inside you. You straddle him and feel his tip threaten your opening. He lines up his cock with your hole and you slowly lower yourself down onto him. The goddamn stretch is painful, yet pleasureable. You let out a moan and Han lets out a growl as you lower yourself down onto his shaft.

You slowly start to move up and down. Changbin moves back over to you to continue where you left off. You again have is beautiful cock in your mouth. Changbin's hips moving back and forward as you lean into him, tasting his cock. Han starts to rock his hips up into you, almost in time with Changbin's thrusts.

Chan moves to behind you and starts to rub his hands over your back, enjoying the sight before him. His hands begin to move a little lower until you feel his fingers rubbing over your tight asshole. Chan licks his forefinger. He slowly and gently enters it into your ass. You clench around Han's cock. "Girl, i'm going to cum if you keep clenching on my cock like that" he groans at you.

Changbin begins to thrust harder and you start to feel his tip stabbing at the back of your throat - you gag as he does this, but seeing you gag only turns him on even more, bringing him closer to painting the inside of your mouth.

Chan now has 2 fingers inside your ass, moving them back and forward. Moving in time with Han's hips thrusting up into your wet, tight cunt. Chan is getting impatient. Han sees this and slouches down further into his chair. Chan pushes you forward onto Han's chest. Your ass is now open for business. Chan spits down onto your ass crack and wipes his fingers in it and along the length of your opening. He then squeezes 3 fingers into your clenching ass.

"Baby ... im ... about ... to ... cum" Changbin pants, as you feel his warm milky cum coat the inside of your mouth.

"Swallow it ... all of it" Han growls at you.

You turn your head slightly to see Chan is now completely naked and lining up his cock with the entrance to your ass. Your eyes widen with both fear and excitement as you see the size of his manhood. He's long, thick, veiny with a slight curve. Han halts his thrusts, allowing Chan to enter you, without hurting you.

You feel Christopher's cock lined up with your tight hole. He spits on his dick, rubs it in and gently, yes gently starts to rip you open. Tears start to well up in your eyes. Han kisses your tears as they fall from your eyes. Christopher continues to glide his thick trunk into your tight hole. Moaning coming from the depths of the pit of your stomach. Finally, the gliding stops. Without you even realising, he's bottomed out inside you. But he lets you get used to him before he starts to move. Han starts with tiny thrusts up and down - only tender little movements.

Christopher leans forward and places one hand on your shoulder and his other hand on your lower back. You see Han nod at Chris and they both start to move in time with each other. Han in, Chan out. Chan in, Han out. Han In, Christopher out.

"oh fuck..." you scream.

Changbin walks back over to you and starts to kiss you. Never in your wildest dream would you think you'd have all 3RACHA tasting you and filling your body with their seed. You moan into Changbin's mouth as his tongue twists around yours. He swallows your moans.

Han and Christopher now picking up the pace and are both grunting and moaning loudly, getting closer to their highs. Changbin starts rubbing his fingers through your hair and rubbing the top of your back. Your pussy is so messy that the sounds could be heard from the next room,

You moan loudly but manage to press out the words they wanted to hear "i'm cumming again ..." and with that they pick up the pace - smashing into you. Han grunting and moaning faster and louder - Chris grunting and breathing in air through his clenched teeth until he lets out a roar and you feel his warm seed enter your ass. Prompting Han to also let out a loud groan as he paints the inside of your pussy white.

The two men who have just released inside your body, collapse into you until their dicks fall out of you. You feel the drizzle running out of your holes.

Changbin leaves to the other room but returns within a minute with wipes and 4 bottles of water in his arms.

Chan looks at you and asks "can we please continue this when we get back baby girl ?"

You smile. "You don't even have to ask"

@moonlightndaydreams 3RACHA cumdump just for you ... HAPPY BIRTHDAY 😘.

You have given me the confidence and courage to write. Here is my first "bigger" piece at nearly 1.7k. Not only that ... I received my first badge with this post aswell. Thank you for being my SKZ bestie 💓 I'm so happy we found each other 🥰

#smut #smut scenarios #straykids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang christopher chan smut #stray kids smut #3racha smut #han jisung smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #han smut

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hiiii baby, how's my favorite dumbass? ♥

Alicia sweetie I wanna ask for a small drabble of Matt and car sex 🤭

I don't why but I found it so hot that Matt fucking Manwhore Murdock would most likely be interested in that

I'm such a slut for Matt 😩

I've been having quite a lot of thoughts that are just- 😳

anyway, I hope you're doing well dumdum ❤

with love- you're one and only favorite slut and whore and dumbass Hailey 💋💋

hiii my hailey baby!!!!!!!! im doing well, how’s my favourite dumbass doing?? and that sounds like an absolute dream🤭 I may have ‘accidentally’ wrote you a bit more than intended🤫 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

lots of love- your fav feral friend💋💋

parking bay play

Matt Murdock x f reader

wc || 0.65k

warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content (semi-public sex, little bit of hair and throat stuff bc I love that stuff) minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

You drive into a desolate multi-storey parking lot with a mischievous grin on your face, backing into the space, you turn to look at Matt.

"This isn't the apartment?" He questions, slight confusion in his voice.

Locking the doors. "Thought we could take a little detour…" you flirtatiously linger, running a hand up his thigh.

"Oh, really?" he grins, his tone full of allure.

You simply hum as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "How does that sound?"

"I think that sounds good," he smirks, unbuckling his own seatbelt, nodding for you to climb over to him.

You face him as you straddle his lap, running your fingers over his stubble. He snakes his hands over your hips, grabbing them to lift you up. You reach down to undo his pants, unzipping them so he could slide the fabric out from underneath himself. You slip your hands into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and allowing his hardened cock to spring out.

His fingers slide up your inner thighs, rolling your sundress out of the way, roaming over the saturated patch in the front of your underwear. "That all for me?" he grins, slipping his hand down the front of your underwear, teasing through your wet folds. He parts the flimsy fabric, dragging it to the side to create an opening for him.

He grips his cock from the base, firmly rubbing over himself, teasing his tip. He clasps around your waist, lifting you up to hover over his groin as he pushes his slick head through your wet folds, coating himself with your sweet essence. You align yourself with his tip, slowly sinking down, allowing him to fill you entirely.

His hands desperately roam up to your back, pulling your chest to his as you melt and mould around him. His fingers knead into your skin as he groans at the sinful feeling. You desperately drape your arms around his neck, wrapping them around his head, urgently pulling his face into your chest.

He leisurely bucks his hips into you, engulfing his sensitive cock with every precise roll. He softly sucks on your lower neck, nibbling and grazing sloppy kisses up the length as he tightly grasps at your skin, softly groaning into the reddened skin.

You mill your hips, grinding over him, working your contracting walls over his cock as he winds himself up into you. Massaging yourselves with every gentle bounce. His hands slide up your back, tangling his fingers into a lock of hair at the back of your head, gently tugging while he litters your throat with brash and branding kisses. Marking you, purposefully.

You clench around him as you drop your forehead into the nape of his neck, breathing staggered whimpers against his skin as your hands roam his shoulders, sinking into the muscle. His thrusts become more focused as he drives into you, grabbing you urgently as he fucks you, pulling you towards his persistent pokes. Deeply groaning against your collarbone, messily kissing along it.

“Can I come in you?” He asks in almost a whimper, clawing at your skin.

Nodding vigorously as your whines grow louder, gripping the back of his head and pushing him into your bouncing chest. You spasm and flutter around him as you reach your release, shuddering as his come spills deep inside you, filling you with himself.

Slowing down, he continues to sloppily fuck his come into you, holding your jaw to bruise your lips in tender, passionate kisses, rolling his tongue over yours.

Breathlessly separating, he gazes at you as he brushes a few strands of hair behind your ear, kissing the tip of your nose. You slowly lift yourself from him, hovering over his thighs as you smile widely at your naughty moment. Shifting your weight, sitting comfortably across his lap as you snuggle into his chest.

"You should 'accidentally' drive the wrong way again sometime."

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfic #matt my beloved #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock drabble #matt murdock blurb #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x you #matthew murdock fanfiction #matthew murdock smut #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil

[nyamadermont]

This Isn't Going to Work

Angstpril 2024: Day 6 (1368 words)

“Lin, this isn’t going to work. I only have a couple of days in the city and I can’t predict when the baby will come. If you can’t take a day or two off to spend with me, I’ll just stay on the Island and not interrupt your schedule.”

“But Kya, I want to see you. It’s been months, and I miss you. We’ve been planning this raid for six months. I would risk my officers’ lives if I just took vacation time right now. Never mind what the council would say.”

“Oh, don’t bring my brother into this, Lin,” Kya groused.

Lin scoffed. “Your brother would be mad at me, but more for making you unavailable. He’s been on my back for three years to take a vacation.”

“Tenzin and I agree on something other than the fact he’s lucky Pema puts up with him.”

Lin froze.

Through a clenched jaw, she managed to respond. “No, I’m sorry, Kya. You’re right. This visit isn’t going to work out.”

click

***

Lin frowned at the timetables and weather charts spread out over Katara’s dining table. She was nearly in tears as she said, “Kya, this isn’t going to work. I have been gone for two weeks already. I’ve got to get Saikahn back to his usual duties. This election is in two months, and I have security to work out across the city.” She dropped her face in her hands. “I want to stay.”

Kya reached over and pulled one hand away and gave it a kiss.

“Lin, dear, you hate it here.”

Lin scoffed.

“I don’t hate you,” she muttered so softly Kya nearly missed it.

Kya kissed Lin’s hand again before settling her cheek into Lin’s palm.

“I don’t hate you, too.”

Their eyes met and they laughed.

Kya sighed.

“Well, if this isn’t going to work, you’d best pack. You know what Tenzin is like when he’s decided a problem is not going to fix itself. I’m sure he is going to have Korra on a meditation regime like none we’ve ever seen before.”

There was no laughter over the fate of two benders going home without their bending.

The door nearly broke from its hinges as Mako came bursting into the room. “Chief! Korra’s back! Everything is going to work out!”

***

“This isn’t going to work. We should just go home,” Lin growled, her stomach churning. Her feet were encased in soggy leather rather than her standard uniform boots. Everywhere, the riotous green growth was oppressive in its pervasiveness. They could only see so far ahead before yet another tree turned them aside from their best guess of a path.

The earth under her feet was saturated, and the water blurred her seismic sense. Kya, meanwhile, seemed almost to tiptoe through the reeds and rushes.

Lin paused a moment to admire the one spark of beauty in this spirits-forsaken swamp.

Except, of course, the spirits had not forsaken this awful place. They had both had visions the night before, and Lin was embarrassed by what Kya had heard.

“Lin, I have a good feeling. I bet Toph is just past that tree over there. Trust me.”

The cackling laugh seemed to come from everywhere but above them.

“Trust? Kya, you should know better than that. Lin won’t trust her own two feet.”

The tiny, wizened form of Lin’s mother emerged from behind the very tree Kya had indicated. 

“Hey, Chief.”

Lin shook her head and sighed. “Hey, Chief.” 

A few minutes’ worth of backtracking brought them to Toph’s small abode. She negligently raised two stools for sitting, then returned to her own reclining seat.

Kya’s stomach gurgled, so she started opening their pack. “Toph, we brought some food with us. We thought you might like something other than wet mushrooms. We just need a little larger fire to cook everything.”

“That isn’t going to work. The swamp and I have an arrangement, and that fire doesn’t get any bigger. It’s either good enough, or it’s not.”

***

Kya was perplexed by the instructions in the note in her hand. Lin told her to arrive at a very specific hour at the delivery entrance to the Republic City History Museum, and to wait for her.

After a short wait, she began to regret dismissing the cab, because she didn’t see anywhere to sit and wait for her wife. The shadows were shifting, and Kya had other things she wanted to do other than watch the birds flit about the alleyway.

Just as she was about to give up and leave, a police van pulled up and parked next to the dock. Lin exited the passenger side, bent over to speak to the driver, then walked to the cargo doors at the back. Her hand was hidden by the open doors, until she backed up and a large crate floated out and settled on the ground behind the vehicle. Kya presumed there was something metal inside that she was bending.

Lin closed the doors to the van and tapped the back twice. The officer put the sato into gear and drove away. 

Lin bent the crate up onto the dock, then walked over to where Kya was waiting with an arched eyebrow and crossed arms.

“You were very specific, Lin. Why have I been waiting here so long?”

Lin had the decency to look slightly abashed. “The people we are here to meet got caught in traffic and couldn’t let us in on time. I’m sorry.”

With a wave, Kya dismissed the concerns, and leaned over to give Lin a kiss.

Kya was fascinated to get to see the back offices and storage areas of the museum. Even as the child of dignitaries, she had never gotten to see the parts of the museum where all the work was done. It seemed to be a busy place, even on a day when they were closed to the public.

She waited in the chair she was led to while Lin managed the crate under the direction of one of the curators. She rummaged through her bag for a book until she remembered having finished her last one from her last trip to the library. A glance around the room found very little to distract her, so she settled on the floor to meditate.

“Kya, dear. We’re ready.”

Kya was prepared with her side-eye for Lin, who somehow did not seem surprised. Or put off in the slightest.

She was almost smug.

Kya frowned, but got up from the floor to follow Lin.

They emerged from the employee areas into the main visitor gallery. Hand in hand, they walked through an open doorway with the phrase “The Story of Our City” marked out in a cheerful red overhead.

It had been years since the last time Kya had brought the niblings, so she could see a few places where things had been updated and rearranged. Lin took a turn Kya didn’t recognize, only to be confronted with a larger-than-life statue of Toph. Which thankfully was not the size of the statue at headquarters.

Lin guided her through a small hall dedicated to the police force from its establishment under the original council through the rise of the triads, the terror of Yakone, the two chiefs after Toph, to Lin’s own promotion to the top job. There was a memorial wall for those killed in the line of duty, whether in what Lin called the ‘quiet years’ or specific historic moments like the Equalist Uprising.

“Kya, darling. Close your eyes, please.”

Kya looked at Lin first, but slowly and deliberately closed her eyes, and wrapped her arm around Lin’s elbow. It was only about another twenty steps before Lin asked her to stop and turn around. She heard a click that sounded like a storage case closing.

“Open your eyes.”

Behind a glass case, a dressmaker’s form supported one of Lin’s uniforms. The plaque overhead read, “Chief Lin Beifong served Republic City for forty years before retiring in the twenty-fourth year of the Korra Era.”

Kya blinked. “Retired?” She looked at Lin in confusion.

“Retired." Lin pointed at the uniform. "This isn’t going to work.”

She smiled at Kya.

“Ever again.”

#angstpril2024 #angstpril 2024 #avatar the legend of korra #legend of korra #fanfiction #day6 #this isn't going to work #kyalin #lin beifong #kya ii #nyama's shorter stories

[wandamaximoff-simp]

I'm thinking about writing again but am not sure so I'm just gonna leave this here for a bit and see if there is any interest in this. Thanks <3

----

The water felt cold. So cold. Like needles prickling across your skin but also so frigidly numbing at the same time. You felt heavy, like that time a Hydra base came down on you, but you couldn’t think about that now; you couldn’t think of much as you were sinking and sinking fast. Your limbs had long since given up on kicking and flailing, and you watched as the light of the surface moved further away and the world got darker and darker as your eyes closed. 

24 Hours Earlier (8 am Thursday)

You were running, your lungs aching. Your target was just down the hall. You could see it within view, but before you could make it, the vent that stood between you and safety opened up and out dropped the Black Widow. Like her namesake, she settled gracefully in front of you, a lethal smirk on her face. You were caught, and you knew there was no hope; you were good and well trapped in her web. 

She sauntered over to you, a victor in a long chase. She held her hand out and with a sigh, you handed over what she wanted. Sliding it from your back pocket, the last German chocolate bar from her stash was returned. 

"See, was that so hard?” She rasped out a silly smile on her face now that she had her prize back. “Oh, give me a break Tash. You play dirty; using Clint’s vents is off limits for stuff like this, and you know it!” You whined out. 

Her sweet laugh rang in my ears as she slung her arm around your waist as she dragged you down the hall to where Maria and Fury were waiting with the rest of the team. 

15 Hours Earlier (5 pm Thursday)

You flopped back on the bed, bouncing once then twice as you lay there wishing for sleep to come. You finished packing your bag for tomorrow and were ready to take it easy until tomorrow's early wake-up call. Your hopes are rudely dashed as something damp and musky hits your face and shocks you into an upright position. 

The item fell to your lap, and you groan as you recognize the shirt Natasha wore to the gym, now saturated in sweat, touching your clean sweatshirt. 

“Gahhh Natalia Alianovna Romanovaaaaa, this is so gross! Ugh, I just washed this hoodie.” You pouted up at her but couldn’t hold it for long when she stood over you and chuckled at your wide puppy dog eyes. 

She leaned down to where you were, practically nose to nose. Youwere  ready to pounce and steal a kiss. As you moved forward, she stood quickly and pulled out that soft, sultry voice she knew you couldn't resist. “Well, now that you’re so dirty baby, maybe you should come shower. You know I was headed in there already. If you're going to shower, we should at least try to save water.” 

With that, she turned on her heel and walked towards the bathroom. Your eyes tracked every move of her hips, exhaustion and favorite hoodies be damned, you were scrambling to your feet and almost tripping on her heels by the time she made it to the bathroom.

#i wrote this in class #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #marvel #black widow x reader #black widow

[legodamianwayne]

BATMAN AND ROBIN 2023 #1 (Take 6 (yes))

(im not writing this as i go since ive already read the issue before. ill also be mentioning gotham war since this takes place during it (just a warning for spoilers!))

i just noticed the bat and robin on the cover! so cute

OH........(just noticed this too) that doesn't look good

look at them goofing off n having fun

this is cute but the way bruce acts here and in gotham war is so jarring its kinda funny

bruce in batman #137: can't stand my fake ass family

bruce in b&r: me and my son damian 🤗

bruce is in his "local dilf in the area" era rn

damian having talia's mannerism that bruce noticed is so <3

and here its confirmed that this takes place during gotham war. not sure how to feel about that

STILL INSANE OVER THIS baby first self insert fanfic

damian went from drawing hyper realistic gore vent art to anime eyes in the corner

i think it'd be fun if we see damian write more as the story goes on. like him daydreaming n doodling in class

wonder if theres any meaning with damian putting talia as a hero n bruce as a criminal here...or maybe its just a "totally original character do not steal" thing

you dont say bruce 🙄

"the last few years"?? pretty sure the events shown there all happened not even in 2 years since damian turned 14 around the start of the lazarus tournament

also why are alfred n talia not shown there? alfred's death has huge impact on damian (he literally hallucinated him) n talia was there as much as ra's

i dont like how damian looks here but that white connor should be a crime

"thats enough emotions for tonight father" [slams door]

i wonder why damian is staying with bruce tho (outside of making this book exist) didn't bruce n talia had a custody battle moment™ n damian's like "nah i have my own life (is literally 14)"

HELL YEAH MY BOY CAN COOK

he's quoting alfred ohhh im gonna sob

this is kinda embarrassing for bruce...like ur son is finally living with you again n he's the one up early cooking?? sir u better step up

aw he's making tea the way alfred did

*squints* did bruce get his hand back? thats a pretty normal looking hand to me

did damian's comment on it in batman #137 made bruce think "shit i cant give damian any ideas of getting a robot hand" n he just. magically grow it back

[GLASS SHATTERING SOUND]

gotham...heights? n. not gotham academy? no maps? no damian joining her dnd team?? no detective club finally hanging out with damian??

ik damian got expelled from gotham academy BUT. WHY

okay? whats the point if he's not going to the same school that his friend went to?

interesting how damian fantasize for a normal life in robin 2021 (with him liking the mundanity of shoujo manga) n now that bruce is offering him that he's rejecting it (or maybe he just rly don't like school which is. fair enough)

wellll just cuz we're not getting maps n the detective club doesn't mean damian's other friends arent showing up right? RIGHT? (maya plz come home)

THE ROBIN MOBILEEE it looks so ridiculous i love it

HOLD ON. DOES THIS CAR HAVE NO SEAT BELTS?? BRUCE UR LETTING THIS SLIDE?

ik that thing is rly loud too damian waking up the whole neighborhood here

not rumors abt the batfam fighting getting spread around?? this is so embarrassing omg

am i the only one getting gotham academy flashbacks here? with killer croc n the trio with the fox shark n bird masks

they're very comfortable with calling eachother father n son while in suits huh. ig everyone in gotham knows that batman is a dilf (who's beefing with his adult children) now

not much to say abt the rest: bruce got shot with something n now bats are attacking him

end thoughts: i hope with all the focus on animals here means that we're getting damian's pets back soon n that gotham war wont affect this book much since i rly want to see damian interact with his siblings again. also is it just me or does the day scenes looks very bright? saturated? it kinda hurts for me to read idk. the night scenes r pretty tho

next issue is damian's first day on his new school that is not gotham academy but im still excited for it! (coping)

bonus bestie corner

#damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman and robin 2023 #FINALLY tumblr keeps posting it while im editing it but its done yippee #this is inspired by makeste bnh/a liveblogs! i remember how much fun it was reading them that i wanna try it with b&r #tho i dont think i could ever write as much for a single issue... #still figuring out how i want to do this

[fanfic-gallery]

Good morning, Tori! How have you been, dear? This event idea is so creative, I love that brain of yours!

If you're up for writing a little chaotic something for me, could I request a (platonic) League of Villains (BNHA) + reader with prompt #777?

one of us

league of villains x gn! reader

|| cw : DEAD DOVE - DO NOT EAT, near-death experience, light mentions of violence

» manager's note: am i actually liking this fic? damn- i must have gotten better- or my standards have lowered- anywaysss, i'd like to say happy pride month to everybody 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 i hope my people in the lgbtqia+ community is having a lovely time celebrating, with that said enjoy the fic <33

"how much longer do they need..." eyes rolled across from the illuminated dance floor towards your bubbling booze. fingers found their way into your hair, gripping and grasping at a chunk of it before pulling at it by the scalp. dabi huffed a laugh of amusement, nonchalantly clinking his glass with yours in an effort to draw your attention towards him.

"you can always.. i don't know, leave?" stitched hand directed your eyes towards the barely visible exit underneath mountains of people. you growled lowly in response, stuffing your head back into the confines of your bare arms, groaning. how did you know that being selected as the group 'undercover' was so mundane, let alone needing to deal with the ass-hat sat just next to you?

seconds turned to minutes, then hours, it felt like literal days had gone by; yet, no signs of shigaraki or the others. you could feel your soul drifting apart from your body --- could it be from the mass amount of booze you had chugged, maybe.. you really couldn't tell. eyes lingered to your side, pupils eyeing the flashing blue flame sparking from your partner's fingertips; it danced and flowed, jumping from tip to tip.

"i get why i'm here, doing this.. but why are YOU here?"

lips slightly ajar, puffing out a light gust of air, blowing at the flicking flare; leaving ashy grey smoke to take its place. "mm, i don't really know.. i don't call the shots," you stared back at him, unimpressed but weren't expect much from a guy you've only just meet weeks before.

october 9th — the day you stumbled into a fate you could never imagine yourself in. legs wobbled, your hands were uneasy; gripping at bricks as you tried to hold yourself together, frame leaning against the wall just beside you. brain in a total mess, nearing the condition of a melted puddle; yet, the clutch against your burning chest was steady, arm still held close the glorious jewel.

"cOUGH- coughcough..." knees lost their strength as you fell on all fours, crimson leaking from your lips and finding its way onto the concrete pavement. ears ringing, barely hearing the clinking of the crystal-like piece rolling across the alley before suddenly stopping. you raised your head; eyes, a blur, only managing to catch glimpses of saturated baby blue before... darkness swallowed you whole.

"ugh....."

"it seems our guest is waking up~"

"what fast recovery.."

"oh-oh! i can't wait to play with them!"

"shut it, all of you..."

noise, noise everywhere... god, how annoying... lashes fluttered, shutting again from the sudden flash of golden rays before readjusting your focus. as each of your senses slowly returned, the warmth just by your feet had caught your attention; white mask covered in black markings stared back, their bright orange button up paired with an elongated top hat having you draw nothing but blanks.

"hello there," gloved hand waved, their mask seemingly twisting into a grin. you gulped, mouth slightly opening to speak till a strong bang struck the sides of the leather couch.

"ahh~ you're cute; shiggy, can we keep 'em?? pretty pleaseee!!" a girl, no younger than a highschool student, had gripped at your arm; blonde locks swaying along with her as she bobbled with joy, her smile barely fitting her face.

"where.. am i; and.. who are you people...-" you shook off the wander girl's wander hands, slowly pulling yourself up but stopping when a piercing sting within your chest made you choke.

"I won't move if I were you..." a man, or what looked to be a man, dressed in formal overalls. his face indistinguishable, head covered in mist of blackish-purple with eyes glowing a bright golden. what could was his hand, reached forward, steadying you by your shoulders as he laid you down on the bed once again.

"we are the league of villians... we had brought you here, or should i say, our leader had brought you here as he deemed you as worthy of joining us." he shifted to his side, revealing the familiar saturated baby blue hair over black clothing. he turned, face unwrapped with a sculpture of a hand, within the gaps of the fingers, crimson pupils stared on from the shadows.

"what do you mean.."

"we've heard of you, Y/N.. a vigilant who helps those, too weak and helpless."

"but they took you for granted, they shook you to the side and disregarded you as just another citizen desperate for the limelight!"

"...we want to help you take revenge.."

eyes rolled, upwards, taking at the looming familiar blue-haired figure, just close enough to notice scars of nails digging into the pale boy's flesh, the dry-ness of it all. despite his size and posture, an eerie aura radiated from him, you didn't know what, but it sickened you.. you felt like throwing up...

"and why should I trust you.."

"...do you have anyone else who's willing to help you right now?"

no.

there was no one else.

your parents, sunning you to the side, faces in disgust...

your friends, blocking you, some even writing discriminating comments on your posts...

the people in your college, cackling like the witches they were, pointing fingers and laughing at your misery every where you went...

you truly had no one.

no one but yourself...

"earth to rookie...-"

"aRK-" you jumped from your seat, barely managing to catch yourself. eyes flared with malice as your hand went straight at dabi's cheek, who in turn, caught it with ease. "don't scare me like that-" in response, he grinned, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to return back to his cocktail till...

BEEP BEEP BEEP

"oh.. looks like they're 'just on time'.."

"fUCKING FINALLY-"

"someone's excited.. "

"duh- who wouldn't be- anyways, ready, partner..?"

"... pftt, ready as i'll ever be, partner.. " eyes of fiery blue set ablaze as scarred hands swept the dance floor within their flames. the heat travelled fast, gasping at its first victim within seconds, leaving nothing but the echoing screams of sheer terror. you joined suit with a lingering smirk, hands raising allowing the silver utensils from the drawers to be sent out flying, some grazed the flesh of its victims and other fell to the ground groaning in agony.

students ran in pure chaos, some even resorted to banging on the windows to escape their hellish damnation. one stumbled towards a girl in red, blood pooling over their lips, begging for help as their hands trailed her skin; yet, all they received was a chuckle as her body melted like clay in their hand, but before their could even react, a knife from behind lodged itself into their head.

"...took you all long enough,"

"well, brother shiggy had some stuff to handle~ you can't really blame him.." toga giggled in return as she twirled, her blade purposefully finding another victim to gash.

"toga's right! nO- she's not!" twice followed.

"where is his dry-ass anyw—" your words cut shorter than the sudden silence in the room. eyes flashed in shock as the once rampaging crowd stilled like statues, all that was meat and bones turned to cracked cement before slowly crumbling away leaving nothing but ash and dust.

"it looks like i might have ruined your fun..." steps of his leather boots rang through the halls, as the familiarity of blue stepped out of the shadows.

"...well, the work is done... but i would have wished it lasted a bit longer-" you shrugged, hiding your frown behind strands of hair.

"the nights not over yettt, right brother shiggy?"

"...mm"

#🎃 — spookfest #bnha #mha #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #league of villains #league of villians x reader #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #toga x reader #kurogiri x reader #twice x reader #mr compress x reader #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #bnha dabi #bnha toga #bnha twice #bnha mr compress #bnha kurogiri #mha dabi #mha toga #mha twice #mha mr compress #mha kurogiri

[tarisilmarwen]

Ahsoka "Fallen Jedi" Liveblog

Let's go let's go let's go let's go let's goooooooooooooo!

Oh I'm so excited for this I already know there are Developments.

Hype hype hype hype.

Oh we're starting off with complete silence are we? Okay.

Sabine trying to raise Hera. :(

Ahhhh yes it's the "Ahsoka and Sabine butting heads about saving Ezra versus stopping Thrawn" convo Sabezra fandom predicted.

"Can I count on you?" Low blow Ahsoka, recalling Ezra's own words.

"I know how much Ezra means to you." *falls into this line, dies*

Oh don't let Huyang get shot, come on now, you already had him get blasted once.

Buncha trailer shots in this episode I'm guessing.

"Stay together. You always did better that way, in my opinion." Ha ha ha this would be a sweet line if we had ever actually SEEN Ahsoka and Sabine working together. *grumbles*

Hera going off by herself to go help Sabine and Ahsoka lolol. That little face she makes when she says, "Watch me."

Baby Jacen is still super precious.

The GHOOOOOOOOOOSSST!

This sequence would have been the perfect spot to drop Zeb in, you know. Just saying.

Go girls go, go, go, you need to get on that ship before it leaves!

And it's my favorite new villain couple.

If Shin could have a bit more personality she'd be more interesting but "feral" is wearing thin.

OH AND NOW WE HAVE A TICKING CLOCK DEVICE.

There were people complaining that this moment where Ahsoka wipes Marrok was lifted from "Twin Suns" but in context... no it's just Dave's usual thing for cool samurai finishers.

Oh wow Shin looks extremely unnerved at Marrok dissipating into green Nightsister mist.

Did... Morgan take all the guards and droids with her? Just leaving Baylan there by himself to handle Ahsoka huh? What a bitch.

"One must destroy in order to create." Nooooooooo they really don't Baylan, that's grade A horseshit.

And stinks of Empire and Sith apologism.

The map is gorgeous. Wish they'd turn the saturation and contrast up just a smidge more so the colors could POP.

Oh this music cue is great!

YES! LET BAYLAN CUT LOOSE. Man is a beast.

Ahsoka's trying to disengage long enough to get the map. :((((

Ha ha, nice. Mandalorian trick.

Ooooof the map burned Ahsoka's hand?

Ahsoka where's your shoto blade?

Right, like Sabine's dinky little blaster is gonna do anything to that map, sure Ahsoka. You just burned your hand on how super overheated it was and all it was doing was generating hyperspace coordinates for a cross-galactic jump, you think a shot from a small firearm is gonna pierce it?

Oooooh that angle-back closed-eye look from Baylan... he's telepathically reading her like a book isn't he?

"Your family died on Mandalore because your Master didn't trust you." WELL I'M JUST GOING TO PATENTLY IGNORE THAT BECAUSE NO FILONI, YOU CANNOT JUST DROP THAT IN LIKE THAT.

Getting real tired of character motivations being reveals and not outright stated from the start.

ALSO WHAT EVEN THE HELL IS HE TALKING ABOUT???!???

THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN REALLY NICE TO ACTUALLY SEE, OR YOU KNOW, TALK ABOUT BEFORE THIS MOMENT.

Anyway as I said, excising this bit entirely from my personal canon, Clan Wren is fine, they're just in hiding like all the other Mandalorian clans.

"And I... to serve a greater good." Ohhhhhhhhhhh I see what you did there, nice paralleling Baylan to Thrawn.

SABINE CHOOSES EZRA.

(I mean I knew it was coming because I was spoiled but still.)

Sabine, Sabine, my poor heartbroken babygirl, this is such a human choice, it's not the choice a Jedi should make but then Sabine isn't a Jedi, I maintain that this is all still playacting and cope that Ahsoka is indulging.

Sabine is falling into the classic Attachment trap but also there are no good choices here. She could try to destroy the map, but I seriously don't think it would work, and then Baylan would just kill her and take the map back anyway.

Maybe she could run but with their ship damaged she wouldn't make it far, she'd have to hide in the woods and avoid Shin and Baylan and whoever else she's stranded and fight them all off by herself for who knows how long until maybe Hera gets there. And she has no way of knowing if Hera's coming.

Oh ouch, I thought Sabine was having a "What have I done?" reaction to handing Baylan the map, but no, Shin is just choking her.

HERA MADE IT.

See it takes Baylan deliberate sustained direct contact with his lightsaber blade to destroy the map, no way was Sabine's blaster gonna do shit to it.

SABINE DID NOTHING WRONG, I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL.

Again, guys, this would have been the perfect sequence to have Zeb in.

Uhhhhhhhhh I would move away from the ring if I were y'all.

HO JEEZ.

OH BOY.

WELP.

Chopper sounds really unnerved.

THE WORLD BETWEEN WORLDS. THE STAR VOID.

Unless it's a weird-ass Force vision lol. Which is still possible.

Yeeeeeeeah I'm going with Force vision, Anakin should be blue and glowing, shouldn't he? Unless things work differently in here.

The Imperial March is not reassuring.

Okay well... that was a thing.

I'm starting to wish Deborah Chow had been showrunner for this, Filoni is doing... okay-ish (not really) but I really think this story needs and deserves a director willing to go all-in on the emotional resonance and beats of the story.

Which isn't to say the Kenobi show didn't have its problems (ho ho boy could I list the nitpicks and writing issues I had with it) but Ahsoka isn't quite reaching the highs it needs. Everything is way more subdued that I think it should be. I don't know how much of this is the writing, how much is the short mini-series format, how much is the cinematography or the directing.

THAT BEING SAID I AM HERE FOR SABINE MISSING EZRA SO MUCH SHE SACRIFICES HERSELF AND THE MAP FOR THE CHANCE TO FIND HIM.

See everything about her motivations makes so more sense if she's in love with him, sorry Filoni, the ship is still sailing.

Baylan got a bit more characterization here and got marginally more interesting, while Shin just... continues to be wet paper. RIP Marrok we hardly knew ye. Hope they explain the green mist shit soon.

Natasha's shoulders must be sore from carrying this show lol. Someone please let Sabine hug Ezra, she will feel so much better.

#i'm late i know #and have been spoiled to hell #but i am so here for all of this #well... some of this #star wars #ahsoka show #liveblog #spoilers #sabezra

[beardedmrbean]

I read with a mixture of sadness and relief an essay by one Melissa Persling, who by all accounts represents the average 30-something woman in America today. In the article, she laments the fact that she’s single at 38 and feels "unbelievably betrayed by feminism." 

Persling feels that way because it is that way. For decades our culture has failed women by spreading falsehood after falsehood about men, marriage, motherhood and career. It’s been a slow, daily drip of "You go, Girl!" messages, specifically designed to delete men and babies from life’s equation. And it has wreaked havoc on women’s lives. 

In an interview with Fox News, Persling explained why she wrote her article. "I wrote a lot of that article like truly scared … I really did think, like, wow, you’ve missed your opportunity. You are going to be alone. You’re not going to have a family." 

She adds, "I was constantly fed this idea that women can do everything. We don’t really need men … I do feel in many ways betrayed by that line of thinking." 

Persling then concedes that she received this message from "so many of the women" in her life. "I want to go back to some of those teachers and coaches and say, ‘What the hell did you mean by that? Because we can’t do it all. We can’t. That’s a lie!’" 

Yes, it was all a lie — and good on Persling for calling it out in such a public way. 

Still, it’s a super hard pill to swallow, made worse by the fact that Persling has been slammed with hateful comments, particularly from men, who insist she’s been selfish. She’s a product of her choices, they say, and, well, too bad. 

It’s not that simple. 

As a life and relationship coach, I hear regularly from women like Persling who realize they’ve been duped by the narrative that being an independent, self-sustaining woman is enough to be happy. It makes perfect sense that these women would find themselves, down the road, overcome with grief at the prospect of living life alone. And they can’t turn to the culture for help because the culture hails singlehood as the be all, end all. 

Persling was smart to recognize that being a product of divorce also put her at a disadvantage since she saw women "taking care of everything" in life. Her mother may not have specifically groomed her to be a feminist, but she absorbed the feminist message of not needing a man all the same. No one told her otherwise. 

America is now saturated with women like Persling, who acted upon the wisdom passed along to them by the people they most trusted. These women thought they did everything right, only to have it turn out all wrong. To accept that the advice they received was based on lies is a hard lesson for anyone to learn. 

The truth is, this purportedly "liberated" path women have been groomed to travel has a domino effect. Because if the goal isn’t marriage and family, what is the goal? To be satisfied with being single forever because at least you have a paycheck and no one to whom you must answer? As Persling said, "I don’t want to wake up at 60 and say, ‘Oh, well, I had a lot of fun!’" 

The problem with the narrative women have been fed is that it deleted the old way but didn’t replace it with anything new. It conveniently left out the details about how women are supposed to live their lives instead. 

I believe Persling when she said she’s "not even a feminist." That’s the thing about movements and trends: They seep into the culture to such a degree that they cease to need a name at all. You don’t even recognize it’s there, and yet it’s governing your every move. 

As Danielle Crittenden wrote in "What Our Mothers Didn’t Tell Us," feminism "had seeped into their minds like intravenous saline into the arm of an unconscious patient. They were feminists without knowing it." 

But now, thanks to Persling’s bravery, more women will wake up. 

#nunyas news

[remingtonisleithal]

Cemetery Drive

Pairing: Vampire!Gerard x female reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: trigger warning for suicide, self harm and death

Summary: Y/N visits her ex's grave but is surprised at what, or who, she finds

Author's note: I genuinely cannot tell if this is a masterpiece cause I love some of the lines, or the shittiest thing I have written. Also this is probably going to be part 1, let me know if you want a part 2!! If you like, please reblog <3

Thunder boomed as lightning bloomed across the jet black sky. The rain only added to the misery, which added to overall feeling that this was somehow meant to be. Y/N slipped through the cemetery gates, passing the familiar graves like old friends.

“Excuse me, Henry,” she said, followed by “Rest well, Sandra,” as she passed by on the way to see her ex-boyfriend's grave. Once she got there, she sat down, never mind the rain, the fact that her black tights and dress would get saturated. Today was too important. It was supposed to be their first anniversary. Halloween. It was going to be everything.

Y/N pulled out a bottle of vodka from her bag, and took a long swing. Even the thunder, rain and heartbreak couldn't drown out the sounds in her head, the night he died. She poured some of the vodka on her ex's grave so he could have some.

“I guess this is what you wanted, huh?” she let out a cold laugh “I miss you, Gerard. I know that this was your decision, but I don't understand why. Was I not enough?” she wiped away a tear, pointless with the rain, but determined to collect herself. But why bother? No one was there but her. Sure, the dead may be supposed to walk tonight, but she was alone. She let out a small sob. Then another. A louder one.

“I miss you,” she heaved “I miss you, so-” but she was cut off.

“Oh sugar, of course you were enough for me. But I had to leave. It wasn't my choice.”

Y/N whirled around at the sound of Gerard's voice.

“No.” she said, so softly she didn't even hear herself. “No, no, you're dead. I saw your body, I found you on the bathroom floor, this isn't possible.”

“Well,” Gerard said with a small gesture that could've meant anything. “I guess I should explain a few thi-” Y/N charged at Gerard, hugging him so fiercely the wind got knocked from his lungs—well, they would have if he still had air left in him.

Gerard wrapped his arms around Y/N as she nuzzled into his chest.

“You bastard! You fucking asshole!!” she sobbed. She pushed him back. “Explain. Wait. No.” She took a few swigs of the vodka, handed it to him, and then said, “I am most definitely drunk, but if this is real, I need to stay drunk for this. Explain.”

“Well,” Gerard loosened the red tie he was buried in. “I had to fake it. No one would believe the truth.”

“Which is?” Y/N demanded.

“How about we get under some shelter first, OK?” Gerard took a drink, and Y/N's hand, and the pair ran under the cover of the mausoleum door. Once they got there, Y/N took a tentative step forward, and brushed her hand over Gerard's cheek.

“Baby, is this really you?? Are you here, or are you just a ghost?” a tear slipped down her cheek.

“Y/N, it's really me.” Gerard said, voice soft and soothing like Y/N's favourite blanket.

“I don't think I can handle losing you again. Don't leave me, Gee.”

Y/N's lips crashed against Gerard's. Though it had only been a month without each other, their car-crash kiss was a collision of passion and pain, like a rose blooming in a storm, a breath of fresh air in a polluted city.

“I...” Gerard sighed, and softly kissed Y/N, hands on her cheek and waist, a familiar feeling that Y/N missed with every inch of her soul. “I can't be with you. Not, not like we where.”

Watching the despair and disappointment well up in Y/N's eye broke what was left of Gerard's heart. She turned away and went to walk, but Gerard held her wrist.

“My love, please. Don't go. Let me explain, OK? You still believe in magic and mysterious things, right?”

“Gerard, I just brought you vodka and a black rose on Halloween, in case you were still alive. I watched you be buried, but I kissed you a minute ago. I don't believe in anything but believe in everything now.”

“Well..”

“For fuck's sake, just say it Gerard!”

“I'm a vampire!”

Silence.

“Gerard this isn't funny.”

“You said yourself that you found my body. You saw me be buried. We just walked past my tombstone!! I am dead, Y/N!”

“So you're a ghost then, I'm drunk, I should go home-”

“Touch my neck,”

Y/N froze. What sounded like an absolutely absurd request was merely an in joke she had with Gerard, when they first started dating, a joke about vampires after watching a horror movie marathon. This was definitely Gerard she was talking to.

Y/N obliged, and gently placed her finger tips where Gerard's pulse should have been. Lightning flashed and Y/N saw just how pale Gerard was. There was no pulse. He was cold, and it wasn't the weather.

“I had to fake my death. It's not like I could just suddenly say 'hey, so I'm deathly allergic to sunlight, I can't eat garlic bread anymore, and is it OK if I just sneak out real quick to suck some blood?'” Y/N took a step back as Gerard took a step closer. “Honey, I love you. But I couldn't risk hurting you.”

“And you thought that DYING would be fucking better?! Fuck you! And I know full well that even as a vampire you'd never hurt me!!” the fires of hell burned through her venomous words.

“I wouldn't. But my pack would. Look, I don't want to sound like Creepy Cullen here, but I couldn't risk it. I would never hurt you. But they would. And without them, I can't eat. And I don't want to become a monster.”

Seconds ticked by like centuries, thunder and rain the only sounds louder than one beating heart and voices.

“If you can't risk it, then why did you come here tonight? You had to know I was going to see you. It's our day.”

“It's because of that that I couldn't stay away. I was going to stay hidden, but the way you were blaming yourself? I would happily die to protect you from my friends, but I will not watch you tear yourself apart.”

The words bad Y/N shuffle her jacket, subconsciously trying to hide any cuts that Gerard didn't know about, thinking about the last time he told her not to tear herself apart. But the gesture wasn't unnoticed. Without saying a word, Gerard lifted Y/N's arm to his lips.

“What now? I can't lose you again Gerard, I can't do it, I won't.” Y/N's voice was sharp and broken as a shard of glass.

Gerard kissed Y/N with all the life he had left.

“Never again. I swear, I will never leave you again.”

Taglist: @fandomfoodiedancer @smiling-girl @fedorable-killjoys @sab-falco @charlie-rulerofhell and anyone who wants to be on the list! Sorry if I forgot or tagged the wrong people!

#mcr #my chem #my chemical romance #cemetery drive #fanfic #mcrmy #vampires #vampire gerard way #gerard way #gerard x reader