Iāve been in a very domesticated darling mood, specifically with Yan Clarkā¦sitting on the kitchen counter quietly while he cooks dinner and tells you about his day at the planet. His sleeves are rolled up and thereās a towel over his shoulder as he speaks animatedly while stirring the pot in front of him. It needs to simmer for a bit, he says as he stands between your legs. Hi smile is easy as he looks you over. Not lustful or malicious, its sweet and tender. Heās just happy to see you for no other reason than being able to bask in your presence. His touch is innocent and it makes you want him all the more.
When he moves to go back to the stove, you yank his tie and force him flush against you. The kiss is desperate and messy as you pull him in close, whining when he tries to pull away. Your hips knock against each other and you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him right where you want him. His hands are steady and warm as they rest on your waist, holding you still when you start to slip from your grinding. You anchor yourself with a hand on his neck, tugging on his curls gently. He moans in kind, licking your lips slowly.
Itās the first time youāve initiated any affection for him before. Youāve developed a taste for him that you canāt quite describe. Being brought to Kansas was a rough transition, to say the least, but you find yourself caring less and less about the circumstances with each day that passes you. Clark is good to you. Heās kind, heās handsome, and heās the only thing you know anymore. Heās everything to you and you know now to hold on tight because youāre afraid to lose it all.
Now what do we think about Duke, after slowly getting closer with the yan!Waynes, trying desperately to keep them away from his childhood best friend reader.
Maybe Dukeās gotten closer with the Waynes over time, as Signal starts to really establish himself in Gotham. And donāt get it twisted, he really likes the Waynes, theyāre good people and supported him when his parents got jokerized, but heād be remiss not to mention some of their odder proclivities.
Theyāre all very close, so much so that itās almost suffocating, since they really expect him to integrate into the family in the same way. Suddenly he has Babs hacking his class schedule and coordinating with the others to get him out of 4th period to go grab ice cream. Or thereās Damian tattling to Bruce about some kids that had made fun of his parents, and multiple family members start threatening to give the kids a āhome visitā.
It wasā¦nice. He really did feel like family, and he knew heād do the same for any of them.
The only problem is how much they seem to take interest in his outside life. While the rest of them have been heroes since before puberty, he got into the business a little later. So while the rest of them have had no time for connections or meaningful relationships outside of their shared circle, he had a whole life before Signal or the Waynes.
Specifically, the problem was in how interested they were with his friends, or really anyone outside of family that he cared about. Coming from the Narrows, he didnāt make friends easily as a kid, everyone had their own lives and problems going on, and his parents warned him to stay away from the wrong crowds.
In fact, when he thought of the word āfriendā only one person came to mind: his childhood friend, you.
The two of you had been best friends since before he could remember, starting off as neighbors in Tracey Towers. Since then youād become like two peas in a pod, where he went, you went and vice versa.
When his parents first got jokerized, it was your family that helped him get on his feet, taking his in and doing what you could to help.
When you lost your parents to the same evil man, the both of you had spent days crying on the floor of your apartment, each trying to just go through the motions of a normal life for the sake of the other. You would make breakfast before school, to ensure that he ate something, and he would pack both of your lunches to make sure that you did.
When he started to lead the āWe Are Robinā movement, you would patch him up after he would get scraped exploring the sewers. When he got closer to Batman, you just smiled and told him to be careful. When he was taken in by the Waynes, youād hugged him fiercely and made him promise to get justice for both your families, pushing him out the door with his bags before he could find another reason to stay in your dingy shared apartment. You didnāt know that the Waynes and the Bats were the same, instead running with the thought that Duke was moving up in both the vigilante and civilian world, just independently of each other.
The two of you were still close, heād never switch up like that, not on you.
So when the Waynes found out about you after a simple sweep of his background, they were a little miffed that he had someone other than them that he was so close with. Theyād always seen family as the biggest and final commitment, and they didnāt want you weakening Dukes resolve as he started to come around.
Thus began the game of the Bats hanging around your area menacingly, maybe even stomping around on your fire escape or trying to peek in through the curtains, never quite crossing the boundary of actually interacting with you. Then, the next day, when youād text Duke about how weird it was that the Bats seemed to hate your apartment complex in particular, and heād grit his teeth and try to get them to leave you alone as smoothly as he could.
In a sense, he was both worried they wouldnāt like you, and either forbid him from seeing you again or actively stop the two of you from speaking, or theyād like you too much and snatch you up. They were the right fit for Duke, he was a part of their world.
But you were a civilian, and one that had stayed clean despite constantly facing the filth of Gotham. He was worried that the family, full of blurred boundaries and unspoken promises, would chew you up and spit you out a much different person.
They wanted to know what kind of person could keep their newest member so willing to step back into his old world, marked with tragedy and pain. And he needed to make sure theyād never find out, since the day they did, youād be dragged into something he wasnāt sure you could handle.
You were an extremely independent person, and the Waynes were the definition of codependent. He couldnāt watch your spark get trampled out, not because of him and his desire for family or justice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(A/n: Iām not gonna lie, my current knowledge of Duke is limited to what Iāve written in this, but if I were to flesh out this idea, Iād want to do him the justice of actually learning more about the character and his backstory. I hope Iāve done right by my boy, heās honestly one of my favorite characters in the Bats, but Iām unhappy at my own lack of knowledge of his comics.
This also kinda ran away from me and was fully written at 12 AM on my phone, so if you see any glaring grammar errors, just pretend you donāt š¤«.)
thinking about Tony making NOAH clip the surveillance footage every time you willingly show him affectionā¦or maybe having scheduled calls with you through NOAH no matter where you are in the house so you donāt miss them
hello freaks of yandere tony stark. somehow im terrified that my asks have gotten so derailed that someone else on the internet has referenced a very niche concept that had previously been brewing in my head for ages with no one else that knows about it. so. wow im so happy we have people on the yandere tony stark train.
YES. 100 times over, yes, tony clips everything. you know billionaires love surveillance? well tony doesn't really care about the rest of the world, he'll have jarvis shift through that for dangers, but NOAH is specifically for your surveillance. So without further ado, here is a list of mp4s in the āher folderā on Tonyās secure drive.Ā
The first time you sniffled into his hand when he hugged you. Itās the closest (at that point in time) that he had of you hugging you back
When you snuggled into your pillow in your sleep during the third night after crying yourself to sleep.
When he forced you to sit on his lap during movie night, the fifth night in you didnāt immediately move your face from his hand when he tucked your hair behind your ear.
The first time you leaned your head to his chest when he was cuddling you (manhandling you into cuddles)
The first time you asked him for something (it was a book you wanted to read), and he made you say āuhm, p-please, tony?ā
A list of his favorite times you said āTonyā. He jerks off to it in the lab some evenings.Ā
When Tony left to grab some supplies and last minute groceries for something and you anxiously searched the entire house, calling out his name and freaking out that he left you there. (this one actually made him bricked when NOAH played the surveillance through his phone at the Trader Joes. just you, wandering around, about to tear up at every empty corner while you called out tony).Ā
You in his clothes for the first time, falling asleep.Ā
When you slept on the couch after dinner, and he decided to move you to the bed and you snuggled into his arms as he lifted you
The first time you kissed him on the cheek after you negotiated him into getting you something else to pass time. (You asked if you could start a vinyl collect, with headphones to listen to them with. More books, maybe? Magazines? Perhaps puzzles?) he told you to come settle in his lap for a while and give him a kiss to think about it with. And you did. You slowly crawled into his inviting lap, shuffling until you got comfortable and laid your head on his shoulder. Then once he said āmy kiss, baby?ā, you slowly raised your lips to his scruffy cheek and pressed a quick kiss. Tony sighed like he was weightless.Ā
Tony has the first time he kissed up your neck, every time you squirmed and grasped his face trying to push him away. You whimpered, and it got him so hard he physically felt all the blood drain from his head. He groaned into your collarbone, hands feeling up your shirt until you cried trying to push him off. That one he routinely watches
The first time you got excited at something. Your book made some plot twist that made you jump up from your reading nook and pace around the room. You were so immersed you barely reacted to him hugging behind your back, quickly reading to the last line in the page and then making a shocked expression at tony, and then pointing to the last line in your book, trying to animate and explain everything that happened. It was the first time you openly laughed.Ā
The first time you two cuddled after you had a bad nightmare of being terrorized by some foe of iron man, and you were so scared and shaking that you fell into his arms and cried about everything that scared you in the nightmare, up until your eye ran dry and red.Ā
Once, you grabbed his hand to point him to something that had been bothering you at home, and tony genuinely got butterflies the second your soft hands held his. (perhaps a little hard too, but you didnāt need to know that).Ā
The first time you WILLINGLY hugged him after he had to be gone the whole day on official business. He enforces hugs 24/7 now. Goodbye hug. Welcoming hug. All the time in between. (and of course, sometimes he catches your face and kisses you breathless while you cantā move your head away)
He introduces you to Pepper (who knows you exist but she wonāt do anything because you keep Tony sane. If she took you away, heād go beserk), and you hide behind his arm and entire time. You barely can stand being in the room without him, you follow him from place to place. You hold his arm, your fingers nervously squeezing the hard muscle. Even in the following days after, you seemed closer than usual, wanting to hold onto him, fighting no affection from him at all. It was pure bliss.Ā
(He started fantasizing about introducing you to the avengers after that and getting you all nervous and clingy again.)
He has that one time you cried after he fingered you, and you wanted to curl up in his chest. Of course, he let you, grinning like a mad man and kissing you all over while you sniffled into his arc reactor and held you hands around his neck.Ā
Ok starfish tired sheās going sleep now. goodnight !!
You, a broke 21 year old college student, being hired by Bruce Wayne to be a nanny for Damian a few months after he had arrived to the manor. The Wayneās arenāt known for hiring them as the family butler usually takes care of all his kids but Alfred has been too overwhelmed and has needed some help. The pay is extremely well, free shelter, and itās just taking care of one kid. Canāt be that badā¦except for the fact itās the worst job youāve ever accepted.
This kid keeps threatening to kill you just for existing in the manor or anytime you try helping him. He tries to make your life completely miserable and is always lashing out at everything you do. He gets even more mad when his pets start to warm up to you. Titus enjoys the delicious treats you give him and Alfred the Cat somehow enjoys your presence, often sitting near you when youāre watching TV. Damian finds you completely insufferable and a waste of space in his home.
It changes when your guys were in the kitchen late at night. Damian couldnāt sleep so he went to the kitchen to drink something when he saw you sitting at the table. He tries to ignore you as he opens the fridge. You take a sip of coffee, āCanāt sleep?ā He scoffs at the sound of your voice. āThatās none of your business.ā āIt kinda is, itās my job to take care of you.ā You take another sip of coffee now looking at the irritation on his face. You stand up, making your way to the kitchen, making your way to a secret drawer in the kitchen. āDo you prefer lavender or chamomile?ā āWhat?ā āI making you some tea, itāll help you sleep.ā āI donāt need your stupid tea.ā āLavender it is, sit down I wanna talk to you.ā He sits reluctantly, watching you put water into the electric kettle and put it to boil.
āAlright whatās your issue with me?ā Damian was taken aback not expecting you to confront him. āWhat?ā āListen Iām not stupid, I know you want me gone. Youāve made it quite obvious and I want to know whatās going on.ā āYou donāt know what I want.ā You take a deep breath as you lean in over the counter. āDamian you might not believe it but you pretty easy to read. I could tell you keep lashing out on me because you want Bruce to give you attention and Iām sorry but thatās not the way to do that. Trust me, I know what itās like to be neglected and to want your parents to notice you but this isnāt the way to do it.ā Damian stays silent, not knowing what to say to any of that. āYou can ignore me and continue to be a little sack of shit all of your life, fine by me, just please make it a little easier on me.ā āIf you have such an issue with it, why donāt you just leave? Itās not like you actually care about me, youāre only here because my father pays you to take care of me. So why donāt you go find another job?ā The tea kettle clicks behind you. You sigh and you stand up straight. āIām just trying to help you. As I said I know what itās like but your life isnāt gonna be any easier if you just stay like this for all your life.ā You pour the boiling hot water onto the tea bag, pouring some honey and stirring it. You bring it towards Damian as you continue talking. āAs much as I bet you want me to, Iām not going anywhere anytime soon. You can choose to act the way you want to act, but if I was you I would rather make a little friend than try to make an enemy. Itās good to have those.ā You take your stuff and walk to your assigned room leaving Damian in the kitchen alone drinking his tea.
Ever since that day, your relationship with Damian grew. It started off with him saying good morning instead of ignoring your first thing in the morning. He eventually started going out of his way to spend time with you. It feels like having a little brother that just follows you which feels nice but does come with a lot of baggage. For some reason his brothers are now interested in you. Their names being Jason, Dick, and Tim. They used to also avoid you but now seeing Damianās clinginess, their interest in you has sparked tremendously. And if you thought they were the only ones after you, you seem to also catch the attention of Bruce.
Now having to share your attention with his brothers as well as his father, Damian begins to grow an obsession. Youāre the only one whoās been here for him and now that you guys established a relationship, everyone wants to take you away from him. Youāre his sister, and he swore to protect you from anyone who looks at you in any way whether itās romantic or out of hatred.
Yandere Qifrey x non witch! Experimented brimmed hat reader x Yandere Olruggio
Warning: physical abuse, sexual abuse, mental torture, bad parenting, human experiments, non con, suicidal thoughts, attempt to self harm, locking up, rape, Dead dove don't eat
Author's note: This is my first time I'm writing for this maga or characters of this anime!! Hope you guys like it.. and sorry for the gore. People who are sensitive don't reader the story after reading the warning. Don't come complaining to me later.
The room was quiet except for the crackling fire. You had awakened hours ago. The bandages around your throat were clean now.
The healer had stepped out, leaving only four people in the room.
Qifrey.
Olruggio.
Beldaruit.
And the wise in principle.. Vinana.
You looked at none of them for very long. When Vinana knelt beside the bed, her voice was gentle.
"...Is there anything you want?"
For several seconds, you said nothing. Then, very quietly.....
"...Yes."
All three looked at you. You swallowed against the ache in your throat
"...Please erase my memories.
The words stunned the room. Olruggio's head snapped towards you sharply.
"What?"
"I don't...want to remember anymore."
Your fingers twisted the edge of the blanket.
"I don't want to remember magic."
"I don't want to remember brimmed hats."
"I don't want to remember any of you."
There was no venom in your voice.... Only unbearable weariness. You turned toward Captain Moralis.
"...Please."
"If you can..."
"...leave me somewhere in the human kingdom."
"A village."
"A town."
"Anywhere."
"I'll work."
"I'll sweep floors."
"I'll wash clothes."
"I'll be...anything."
Your eyes lowered.
"I just..."
Your voice cracked.
"...want to wake up one morning without being afraid.... Or used"
Silence swallowed the room.... Olruggio couldn't find words..... Qifrey stood motionless eyes dark. You hadn't asked for revenge. You hadn't asked for justice.You hadn't even asked for an apology.... The only thing you wanted...
...was to forget they had ever existed.
He looked to Qifrey.
"Do you object?"
Qifrey's mouth opened. Nothing came out.
What argument could he make?
That you should remember?
Remember the basement?
The hunger?
The beatings?
The fear... The nights he kept you awake and hurting ....?
Vinana looked back at you.
"If this is truly your wish..."
"...I will petition for it."
Your shoulders relaxed for the first time since anyone had seen you.
"...Thank you."
Not because you had been saved.But because, perhaps, you would finally be allowed to stop carrying memories that had become too heavy to bear.
Outside the room, Olruggio remained standing in the corridor long after the conversation ended. Behind the closed door, the prisoner they had captured had asked for one final mercy.
Not freedom.
Not forgiveness.
Simply the chance to live a life in which she would never have to remember their names again.
Morning came with the sound of church bells instead of iron locks.
That alone was enough. The village knew you only as a quiet young woman who had arrived with little more than a bundle of worn clothes and a recommendation from a traveling knight. No one asked many questions. In a place that small, people understood that sometimes the kindest thing was to let the past remain unspoken.
The jeweler took you on as an apprentice.
Your hands, once accustomed to magic, now learned the patience of polishing silver, setting tiny gemstones, and winding delicate wire into graceful patterns. It was quiet work.You liked quiet....
The old jeweler would sometimes smile.
"Your hands never shake when you're working."
You simply nodded.
Talking still felt... difficult. The villagers assumed you were shy.....They never knew that there had once been a time when every word had seemed dangerous....
Months passed.
The bruises faded.
The scar on your neck became a pale line hidden beneath your collar.
You rarely smiled.
But sometimes, when sunlight struck a finished necklace just right, you found yourself staring at the tiny rainbow it cast across the workbench.
Without realizing it...
...your lips would soften. Only for a second. There were strange moments.
A feeling. As if someone were watching. You would glance toward the marketplace...
Nothing.....
A figure disappearing around a corner. A dark cloak vanishing into the afternoon crowd. You told yourself it was imagination. The memories were gone. Whatever frightened feeling lingered belonged to another life.
So you ignored it.
On the roof of a building across the square, two witches stood hidden by concealment magic.
Olruggio watched you carefully polishing a silver ring.
"...She looks healthier."
Qifrey said nothing. You had grown stronger.
There was color in your face now. You ate every meal the jeweler placed in front of you. You thanked customers with a quiet bow. You still barely spoke.
But you were...living.....
Olruggio let out a slow breath.
"Maybe we should stop coming."
Qifrey's eyes never left the shop window.
"...Just a little longer."
"For what?"
No answer came. Inside the shop, you laughed.
It was small......barely more than a breath of amusement after the jeweler accidentally dropped a tiny sapphire and muttered under his breath.
Both witches froze.
It was the first genuine laugh they had ever heard from you. You didn't remember them. You didn't know they were there. And perhaps...
that was the only reason you could still laugh at all.
The old jeweler noticed it by accident. One afternoon, he placed a finished pendant into your hands.
"You've done good work."
Without thinking, he reached out to pat your shoulder.
The instant his fingers brushed your sleeve......
You flinched violently. The pendant slipped from your hands, striking the wooden floor with a sharp clink. Your breathing became uneven.
You stumbled backward, eyes wide, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself as though trying to shield your own body.
"I'm...I'm sorry..."
The apology left your lips automatically.
The jeweler immediately withdrew his hand.
"No, child. You don't need to apologize."
You kept staring at the floor.
"...Please don't touch me."
Your voice was barely audible.bHe nodded gently...
"I won't."
After that day, everyone in the little shop learned.
If they wanted your attention, they called your name. If they handed you something, they placed it on the table first.
No one reached for your arm.
No one patted your back.
Not even little ones hugged you without asking.
And slowly, the shop became a place where you no longer had to brace yourself every few minutes. There were still moments. A crowded market. Someone bumping into you by accident.
Your entire body would stiffen before you hurried away, whispering another unnecessary apology.
You never understood why. The memories were gone. But your body remembered enough to recoil.
From the rooftop across the street, Olruggio lowered his gaze.
"...She still can't bear being touched."
Qifrey remained silent.
He had seen it too. The way your shoulders locked. The fear in your eyes that appeared before you even knew why.....
Memory magic had taken away the events.
It had not erased the habits your body had learned through suffering.
The two witches watched as the elderly jeweler carefully set a cup of tea beside you instead of placing it into your hands.
You looked up.
"...Thank you."
A small, hesitant smile crossed your face.
The old man simply smiled back and returned to his work.
No questions.
No pressure.
Just respect for the boundaries you had quietly asked for.
Olruggio spoke after a long silence.
"...He's kinder to her than we ever were."
Qifrey didn't answer.
There was nothing he could say that would change what had happened, or erase the marks that remained even after your memories were gone. The only thing they could see now was a life slowly rebuilding itself.... one careful step at a time, with people who never demanded that you endure a touch you did not want.
The village square was busy that afternoon.
Children darted between market stalls while merchants called out their wares. The old jeweler handed you a small pouch of coins.
"Could you fetch some polishing cloth from the stationer's?"
You nodded once.
"I'll be back."
At the same time, Qifrey walked into the same street with Coco, Tetia, Agott, and Richeh.
"We'll pick up parchment and ink before heading back," he said.
The apprentices scattered through the shelves, excitedly comparing pens and sketchbooks.
It was an ordinary errand. Neither of them expected anything more.
You stepped through the doorway, your attention fixed on the shopping list in your hands. Someone turned the corner at the exact same moment.
Bump.
Your shoulder brushed against another person's.
The list slipped from your fingers , as you felt a strong arm around your waist to stable you from falling..
"Oh.... I..."
You looked up automatically. Your eyes met bright blue ones.....
Qifrey's.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then your face drained of color. Your breath caught. Your fingers began to tremble..... Images you couldn't understand flashed through your mind..... not memories, only sensations.
Cold stone.
Darkness.
Fear.
A hand striking your face.
A locked door.
Your body reacted before your mind could. You staggered backward.
"N-no..."
Your breathing became ragged.
"I'm...I'm sorry..."
You didn't know what you were apologizing for.
"I'm sorry..."
Again.
"I'm sorry..."
Again.
"I'm sorry..."
You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, shaking so violently you could barely remain standing.
Coco stared in confusion.
"Professor...?"
Tetia took a hesitant step forward.
"Miss, it's okay.... Y/n is that you??.."
The moment she reached out, you recoiled as though burned.
"Don't..."
Your voice cracked.
"Please..."
"I'm sorry..."
Qifrey stood frozen.
He hadn't moved. He hadn't spoken. Yet your body had recognized him in a way your mind no longer could. Not by name. By fear...
Olruggio's warning echoed in his memory.
Sometimes the body remembers what the mind cannot.
Your knees buckled.
The last thing you saw was a blur of frightened faces before darkness swept over you. The room fell silent. Coco looked between the unconscious woman and her teacher.
"...Professor..."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"...Why was she so afraid of you?"
Qifrey couldn't answer.
He simply looked at the young woman lying unconscious on the wooden floor, still curled into herself even in faintness, as if expecting another blow.
The apprentices had never seen him speechless before. And for the first time, they saw something in his expression they couldn't name.
Not anger.
Not determination.
Only the heavy realization that someone who no longer remembered his name could still fear his presence.
tw: gn reader, noncon, (mention of reader having children), minor injury, drugging, victim blaming, video tapping, creampie.
your heady scent wafts through the air.
itās taking everything in him not to take what he wants, right here, right now. his fist clenches underneath the table. he offers you a smile, one that doesnāt quite reach his eyes, noticing your attention drawn to him as the conversation lulls.
youāre collarless, scent gland on display.
itās a bit engorged. the skin raised from your impending heat. heās never known omegas to flaunt themselves like that. not unless they wanted something to happen to them. thatās what this is, right? some little signal to him? youāve always been so elusive. itās hard to tell when it comes to you.
itās starting to drive him insane, but it doesnāt matter. youāll be his all the same.
he sits a bit closer to you, throwing his arm around the couch as he listens to you prattle on about some show he canāt be bothered to care about, not right now. not with your scent coiling in the air like that.
you smell so sweet, even to someone like him with dulled senses. itās so much better close to the source.
when you lean into him, head knocking into his shoulder, his mouth waters. his teeth start to ache. all it would take is one bite. heād pull you into a hug, grip your hair tight, splay the delicate line of your neck to him.
no, no, no.
not one bite. it wouldnāt last, not from someone like him. heāll have to keep doing it, over and over and over again. make the mark stick, leave his indentation in your neck. until you never have to wear that stupid collar ever again.
youāll bear his mark on your skin insteadāthe perfect necklace.
for now, heās keep listening, keeps letting you press yourself against him, none the wiser that he has something special planned for you.
āiāll get us something to drink,ā he states abruptly, squeezing your shoulder as he departs.
he doesnāt wait for you to answer, just getting up and heading into the kitchen. heās been here long enough that everythingās become second nature to him. he knows where the utensils are, where you keep your favorite snacks, the food you eat, nearly everything about you at this point.
that means youāre perfect for each other.
he opens the fridge, grabs the pitcher, and sets it on the counter. his hand lingers on his front pocket, on the little packet of heat inducer. it was surprisingly easy to obtain; who wouldāve thought? you know a guy who knows a guy, and things just magically fall into your lap.
he tested it on himself first, of course. luckily, it didnāt do much but give him an erection that seemed to last for fucking days. heās not leaving this shit to chance. he waited too long for you to mess this up.
he grabs two cups from the dish rack, not wanting to dawdle too long. thatāll seem suspicious, and heās not that type of guy. he pours it into your cup, watching the white powder be absorbed by the juice.
itās supposed to be flavorless.
hopefully, youāre not one of those people who notice everything. as much as he doesnāt want to hurt you. heās not afraid of getting rough, but itāll still be really unfortunate to break that illusion.
all of the work that went into carefully crafting his personality to your liking.
all down the drain.
he returns to your side, a smile on his face as he hands you the glass. āfor you,ā he adds, gaze lingering on your face. his fingernail scrapes down the glass as he counts down the seconds, that drag into minutes, waiting for the drug to kick in.
any day now.
and there.
he feels the exact moment you slump into him, nearly slipping your drink onto the floor. he takes it out of your hand, breath hitching from the contact. even now, just the touch of your skin against his is enough to set him off.
he sets the drink down.
that sweet smell deepens, practically pressing against his nose. his tongue swipes across blunt teeth. he wraps his arms around you, nosing against your neck as he lets out a pleased sigh.
āw-what? what did you give me?ā you slur, trying and failing to push him away.
you can barely feel your fingertips. itās like youāre watching everything happen from outside of your body. your mindās growing all hazy with want. it feels like youāre going into heat, but that shouldnāt be possible.
you take your pills on time. you shouldnāt be due for another week at most.
it couldnāt possibly be him.
heās supposed to your friend.
he licks a stripe up your neck, allowing you to slide down the couch. youāre rag-dolling at this point. he has to position your legs to keep you from falling off. heād prefer to do this in your bed. just so you can remember this exact moment, every single time you fall asleep.
but heāll accept this for now. the drug isnāt going to wear off that fast, especially not for its intended target. he paid far too much for this shit to be a dud.
you feel the exact moment his teeth sink into your scent gland. the smell of iron burns your nose. he bit down hard enough to draw blood. you want to cry, but the tears just wonāt come. the only reaction you can muster is the slight hitch in your breathing.
he pulls back, just enough to look at your face. he wants to write this moment in his mind forever. youāre just so beautiful, even limp and useless. you canāt give him a proper reaction right now, but thatās alright.
you have all the time in the world. you didnāt really think heād be alright with just having you once, did you?
his grin widens, showing off blood-stained teeth. his hand comes down to caress your cheek, trailing down to your gland. the skin is angry and bruised, teeth marks imprinted on your delicate throat. he presses his thumb into it, watching the beginning of tears well up in your eyes.
finally, a reaction.
āoh, did that hurt, darling?ā he questions, tone mocking. he brings his thumb back up to his mouth, licking the blood, your blood, off his finger, reveling in the sight of your teary face.
fuck, thatās so hot.
he chuckles, reaching into his back pocket. he takes out his phone, the first photo heās ever taken of you staring back at him as he unlocks it. he opens the camera app, the click of the shutter breaking through the noise as his library fills with more pictures of you.
āi think iāll keep this one, and that one, and the other one,ā he teases, eyes crinkling at the corners. āmight even make it my lock screen. youāreā¦ god, youāre just so beautiful, you know. you justā¦ make it so hard to keep my hands to myself. honestly, iām surprised i lasted this long.ā
he sets the phone to the side for now, returning his attention to you.
āiām gonna take reeeal good care of you, sweetheart,ā he murmurs, nimble fingers sliding your pants down your legs. his gaze lingers on the sight of your slick, soaked thighs. youāve managed to make a mess of your underwear, and he hasnāt even properly touched you yet.
still, heās a gentleman.
heās not going to skip out on foreplay and pass up the chance of tasting you. he takes off your underwear as well, stuffing them into his pocket for safekeeping. he kneels between your legs, face hovering inches from your glistening sex.
ah, youāre so wet and all for him.
the scent of you is even better here, all musky and sweet. the flavor of your essence erupts on his taste buds as he licks a stripe up your sex, letting out an airy moan. his nails dig into your thighs as he drags you closer, arranging your legs to dangle over his shoulders.
he laps at the slick dripping from your entrance, fingers stroking the length of your arousal. itās pulsing beneath his fingertips, throbbing like it has a heartbeat of its own. youāre just as wet as heād imagines youād be.
the real thing is way better than the omega porn he watched. only, after he found out your designation. thereās never been a point in watching it anymore. not when he has actual material right in front of him.
he takes you into his mouth, suckling on your swollen heat. his gaze is drawn to the shaky rise and fall of your chest as he keeps sucking. yeah, youāre starting to feel it now. he squeezes your chest, rolling your pebbled nipple through your shirt.
youāre just so responsive. when he licks, your thighs start to twitch. when he sucks harshly, you let out an exhale that sounds more like a sob than anything. a sob of pleasure? yeah, thatās what it is. you want this just as much as he does. you always have. you just needed a little moreā¦ coercion.
someone like youāan omega.
you just donāt know what you actually want. thatās why you need someone like him to take control. someone whoāll fill your mind with blissful pleasure. thatās how itās supposed to be. people like you donāt have ambitions. you donāt need to go to school or keep that shitty little job that doesnāt pay you enough.
youāre supposed to have his children, stay home and take care of them. in fact, you shouldnāt ever leave. itās not safe. what if someone has the same idea as him? of course, they would. youāre just too enticing.
thatās why he canāt help acting this way.
itās all your fault.
you caused all of this to happen. why else would you have invited him into your home? no, your home together, so close to your heat. allowing that sweet scent of yours to coil around him like a loverās embrace.
youāre so coy.
acting like you donāt want this, when youāve been throwing yourself at him this entire time.
his finger breaches your hole, two at a time. youāre so wet that his fingers slide right inside. he listens to the messy squelch of your hole, teeth biting into his lip at the lewd sight. with every push of his fingers, more of your slick drips out. if he keeps this up, youāll stain the couch.
so naughty.
oh, itāll be so sweet. just think about it. every time you sit down on this couch, youāll remember just how we took care of you, ate you out, fingered you open, prepped you to receive his love.
now, that he thinks about it. what better way to remember this special moment than with a video? a photo. those are alright, but a video. heāll have all of your cute little reactions saved in the memory of his phone. itāll be something sweet to look back on with you. wouldnāt that be so nice?
right, sweetheart?
he pulls away for a moment, fingers glistening with your juices as he reaches for his phone. he props it up on the discarded glass, making sure the angle is right before he presses record. he takes a moment to think to himself.
heās actually doing this. youāre finally going to become one.
the sound of him pulling down his zipper rips through the delicate moment of appreciation. he can feel the weight of your teary gaze on him and see the subtle motions of your lips mouthing out words. he doesnāt wait for an answer, merely pulling his pants and underwear down far enough to slip his dick out.
he lets out a sigh of relief. god, it feels like heās been sporting a half chub since the moment he got here.
he climbs on top of you, bracketing you in as he strokes himself. āare you ready, love?ā he murmurs, gaze filled with possessiveness and, most of all, pure love. his hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with your limp ones as he presses inside.
he lets out a satisfied sigh, feeling you tighten around the intrusion. he noses at your neck, sucking on your scent gland as he rocks against you. that sickeningly sweet scent wafts into his nose once more. itās euphoric, better than any drug.
itās almost enough to make him come from the thought alone, but he wonāt.
no, not yet.
he has to make sure you enjoy yourself first. he might not be able to satisfy you with a knot like an alpha would, but a few orgasms should do the trick. thatās what it said online, at least. when he was doingā¦ research.
his hand wanders back down, rubbing between the junction of your thighs. your eyes are still glazed over, face lax with a line of drool decorating your chin. mmm, youāre so sloppy. thatās what he loves about people like you. the kind who lose control during sex, making a mess all over themselves.
he starts to thrust faster, feeling himself start to leak inside you. āa-ah, yeah. you feel that, sweetie,ā he murmurs against your skin. itās like youāre trying to push him out every time he thrusts back inside you. āy-you keep making me feel that good, and iā¦ i might just put a baby inside you. you want that too, right? a bunch of brats together? just me and youā¦ and our kids running around the place.ā
youāre not responding to his tentative touch anymore, butā¦ thatās alright. he knows just how overwhelming things like this can be, having your first time with your soulmate.
he canāt even believe itās happening himself.
he surges forward, lips pressing against yours for the first time. his tongue parts your lips, slipping inside your mouth as he loses himself in the taste of you. the gentle smacks of his lips pressing against yours fill the room, a backdrop to the sound of the television thatās grown long forgotten, the very moment he handed you that drink.
he continues rutting against you, keeps rubbing his fingers along the throbbing heat between your thighs as he presses your prone form further into the couch cushions.
heās going to make you come.
he can feel it.
your body doesnāt lie, even with those deceptive tears that are spilling from your eyes. god, he wished you'd stop with the fucking theatrics. having a cock inside you canāt be that damn bad.
youāre in heat. you want this.
if he didnāt come over here. youād probably be on your hands and knees for the first dick that appeared, begging to be knotted. if anything, heās doing you a favor.
so, you should be grateful. grateful that he even prepped you at all. maybe you wouldāve preferred he just shove his dick inside you dry. no slick to help with the intrusion.
just him.
he grits his teeth, willing away those thoughts. he just needs to focus on the feeling of your hole fluttering around him. donāt think about other people with you. heās here with you right now. itās his dick thatās making you feel this good.
no one elseās.
that euphoric feel that heās been chasing catches up to him as he lets out a choked-off moan. his fingers tighten around yours, hips slowing to a still as he paints your insides white with his release.
he really did it.
he came inside you. you have his teeth marks on your neck.
something that only happened in his wet dreams that would keep him up at night.
he pulls out of you, taking the moment to admire the sight of his seed dripping out of you. now, this is something he can get used to. your beautiful face, and the sight of your freshly bred hole. he scoops back up his come, fingering it back inside your entrance.
you didnāt think really think he about your little problem, did you? he might be coming down from his high, but he still has to breed out your heat. show you that heās way better than any of those useless alphas.
and heās going to make sure you come again, and again, and again.
tw: gn reader, a/b/o dynamics, slightly suggestive, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, minor slut-shaming
heās no one special, someone easily blending into the background unnoticed by you. nothing was amiss when he finally approached you, tired of being a mere spectator in your life.
you thought nothing wrong when he approached you, clamoring to befriend you as you took in his barely-there scent, and his distinct lack of scent gland, marking him as a beta.
it was easy for him to gain your trust, much to his delight. his status made it more than easy to. when youāre not trying to figure out no oneās intentions. and why would you? heās a beta. the odds of him being interested in an omega should be close to none. there isnāt that instinctual pull that causes people to hover around you.
but, linger around he still did.
still, you were far too trusting for his liking. of course, you would be. youāre perfect. always so kind. always so trusting. always so. . .
so nice, and trusting, and naive.
it makes him feel sick, watching them hover around you like flies, looking at you with their disgusting eyes, and even worse, allowing their disgusting scents to linger on you.
theyāre so blatant about their intentions.
itās sickening. just like him. so blatant with his advances, and you donāt even notice. youāre teasing him. you have to be. youāre justā¦ playing into that coy omega stereotype, right? making him chase after you like a dog with a bone. thatās what it is. it has to be.
youāre so trusting. so sweet. you donāt throw yourself at whatever alpha looks your way, like all of those other whores. so eager to open their legs for a scrap of attention, but not you. never you.
youāre pure.
so pure, and all for him.
thatās why you wear that collar upon your neck. youāre just waiting for him to take it off you. thatās why you invite him over to your place, leaking that coiling sweet scent, enough to make even a betaās mouth water.
youāre a seducer, and heās no better than an alpha. no, heās even worse than them. heās always been sick when it comes to you. and it's getting harder and harder to pretend to be something he's not.
heās a wolf, masquerading as a sheep. all soft smiles, and even softer hands. just itching for you to slip up, so he could claim you for himself. sink his teeth into your scent gland with blunt teeth, marking you as his forever.
at times, he wonders, did his lack of scent, his calm demeanor, cause you to lower your guard? heās a beta, of course heās not a threat. people like him are never meant to be, but thatās when heāll strike.
when youāre most vulnerable, when your instincts will cloud your judgement, when your body will be starving for a loverās embrace.
his embrace.
because youāre his, and heāll make sure of it. youāre soulmates, canāt you see? youāll wear his mark. heāll mare your perfect skin with his teeth, taste your gland beneath his tongue, rewrite your biology until your body recognizes him as your rightful mate.
heāll be your beta. your alpha. your everything.
Before you can even get past the threshold, vines shoot out and grab your ankles, pulling you back into his captivity.
He's powerful, smart.
Being able to get out of the castle is a miracle in and of itself. It doesn't matter if it was purely from your own skill or luck, he's getting you back either way.
If it's not him that drags you back into the palace, it's Lilia or Sebek or maybe even Silver. Out of the three, Silver's probably feels like he's most inclined to help you, but his loyalty to Malleus far outweighs his sympathy for you.
Lilia wouldn't think twice about running out and stopping you. He would be the more annoying one to deal with. Before bringing you back to Malleus, he would say things like:
"Did you really think you could escape?" or tease you for thinking you possessed the ability to run away.
Sebek is more of the just-do type of guy. He'll bring you back without even saying a word, only glaring at you. How dare you deny Malleus of his pleasures? Sebek wouldn't even hesitate if he had the chance to be binded with Malleus forever.
Yandere!Single Dad x Teacher!GN Readerā claustrophilia, mutual masturbation, watching you sleep, light somno, making out, cock warming, edging, teasing, riding that dick till youāre drunk on it, mind fuckery, creampie, breeding kink.
Yandere!Single Dad knew his child was perfect. There was nothing in the world more important than his little dumpling. And in his eyes, they could do no wrong. Every year, their teachers sang their praises and congratulated him on making the perfect child.
It was all him too as his ex-wife proved to beā¦ Not up to the task that was required and needed to leave. Now he put all his energy into his baby.
So it was more than a bit of a shock to find out that he was being called in for a parent teacher conference to talk about them. He knew nothing was wrong on his kidās end, there was no way. In fact, he planned on telling you, his kids teacher, just that. He was willing to do anything necessary to make you understand that too.
Until the moment he stormed into your classroom and his eyes fell on you for the first time. It was like the world stopped, and everything clicked back in its place for the first time since his kid was born.
The space around you seemed to glow like you were calling him home. Drawing him in and showing where he was meant to be. For a moment he couldnāt speak, even as you greeted him and gesture toward the chair across your desk.
āWhatās, uh, this about? I know my kid didnāt do anything wrong,ā he noted breathlessly, managing to speak, just so he could continue to hear you talk. Your eyes widen in surprise, all doe-eyed and beautiful. Perfect.
āNo, no, no, not at all. I just wanted to go over some curricular options with youā¦ā you start, but to be honest, nothing was fully registering in his head.
All he could do was focus on your lovely voice, and the vague premise that you felt his kid wasnāt being challenged enough so you wanted to give them some extra practice work.
You really were perfect. Not only as a teacher, but as the other parent his child needs. He realized throughout the meeting that he made sure ran longer and longer than necessary.
There was a natural push and pull between you, a difference in your methods, and a focus on different factors. But all with the intent of betterment for the child. Together, you would be unstoppable. He just had to find a way to lure you in.
There was already an attraction, that much was obvious. The way you blushed when he first sat down across from you, your smile every time he complimented you, and how you kept leaning in closer and closer across your desk to reach him.
You were as drawn to him as he was to you. But despite his every attempt, eventually, the meeting was over before he knew it. No, he had to find a way to see you again.
And maybe that meant being a little more lax about how his kid behaved, especially in school. Like everything else, his kid was more than up to the task and did it perfectly.
In no time at all he was being called into school to talk with you about their behavior recently and asking if anything has been going on at home. He took that chance to mention how lonely heās been and how his child may just be in need of another parent. Which brought another cute blush to your cheeks.
A blush he often thought about in bed with his hand around his cock.
The more he came to visit and opened up the more you did too. About all the pressure of being a teacher and the weight of being in control all the time. He wanted to lift that for you as soon as possible.
This is a Patreon exclusive fic so you'll only be able to read it there! Check it out if you're interested in reading the entire fic and many more. I have a ton of other exclusive and early access fics that you can read there too!! Use the web for non fee prices!
Yandere!Single Dad x Teacher!GN Readerā claustrophilia, mutual masturbation, watching you sleep, light somno, making out, cock warming, edgi
(A/n: She's BAAAAACKKKK! didja miss me? I missed you guys TT, but I'm back now, and so is the next installation of WAYSOWM, enjoy! ;) a little late, but dang was this one hard to write.)
Why's your family trying to connect so hard with you after so many years of neglect? Well . . . I guess its not all that bad- why are they staring so hard???
(Masterlist)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"From the top, no bullshit, no lies, what happened? Who are 'they'? And what do you mean lose me?"
No one answered, but you only had your eyes on one person.
Bruce met your stare head-on.
You kept your gaze on Bruce, mouth set in a firm line. You'd be getting your answers tonight, no matter what it took.
"So? You all were so loud just a second ago, what happened?"
Dick cleared his throat,"(Name), calm down, you're gonna strain yourself and push back recovery if you don't breathe. We'll explain," he swept a look across the table, "promise, but not at the expense of your health."
Your patience was wearing thin, "Okay then explain, fuckface." It was clipped, just as short as your current sanity.
Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise, you didn't often speak like this to anyone, let alone your family. But most people didn't irk you like they currently were either, so you felt like you had a pass.
Jason snorted, looking at you withā¦was that pride? Tim just furrowed his brows, eyes flicking between your own, scanning for fog or fatigue. Damian scowled, but didn't lose the appraising gleam in his eyes.
And Dick just winced, continuing on, "Okay, do you remember anything from a few days ago? Around Thursday night? You might not have been awake, but your lights were on when I came around soā¦"
He came around your room on Thursday night?
Why?
Your room was out of the way, there was no reason for him to be around there. But there was also no apparent reason for anything that had happened recently so you pushed that question to the side and probed hard for anything that stood out from a few nights ago.
The concussion definitely wasn't helping you with your search, and neither was the stubborn silence from the others while you thought, eyes fixed to the basket of rolls at the center of the table.
You sighed, irate and impatient, "No Dick, I don't. Why don't you enlighten me?"
Sue you, your head hurt, no one was making any sense, maybe you were getting a little cranky, it was your right.
Tim jumped in now, so you would either get the most convoluted or dumbed down explanation possible. For your sake, you hoped he chose the latter.
"You don't remember any loud sounds? Maybe some loud whirring or a mechanical clang?"
You shook your head slightly, frowning. You did hear some thumps, but that wasn't any cause for concern in this madhouse.
Tim pursed his lips, "Okay, that's fine, maybe something to check out if its related to the concussion butā¦"
Now the fucker was mumbling to himself. Why couldn't these people just give you straight answers, honestly?
Bruce finally opened his big mouth, "That night, we were visited by versions of ourselves."
You pulled a face, "Like clones? Or like ideal versions of yourselves? Or is this more like a metaphorical thing where you all just had really similar dreamsā¦.I'm not following what that has to do with me."
Bruce didn't show any signs of annoyance at the interruption, instead continuing to just stare at you, tense.
"Versions of us from other worlds. They had been sent here by a rogue from their world, and needed our help getting back and catching the man. The inter-verse transport machine made a fair bit of noise while charging, I'm slightly concerned that you don't remember hearing it."
You remembered suddenly that you had been watching something that night, headphones in and sobbing into your pillow when the main character's dad started taking drugs to understand his son better.
There were layers to that you didn't want to unpack, but the main point was that even if you should have heard something, it was plausible that you just missed it.
So you nodded, following along with his story thus far.
"I was doing something, move on."
He just paused for a second, clearly filing that away for later.
"Alfred had come down to check injuries for the group before we sent them back and I'd asked him if we'd woken you up from the sound of the machine. At thatā¦."
Bruce didn't often leave his sentences unfinished, but here he left space for one of the others to fill in.
Surprisingly, it was Damian that stepped up to bat. Perhaps not so surprising, since Damian had never shied away from the harsher truths.
"At that, they stopped completelyāeven the other me." From the way he said it, you got the idea it was specifically his own reaction to the news that had stuck with him.
"Their world runs slightly ahead of ours. Eight days, to be exact. When the rogue sent them to another world, the idiot messed up and sent them backwards in time, too."
Tim piped up again, "It's an easy mistake, one we had to be careful about when making our own version of the transporter. We had to figure out sending them back not only to the right world, but also to the right time."
Why did they always choose to go on every tangent except the one you were interested in?
"That's great, what does that have to do with me?"
Jason sighed to you right, sounding just as exhausted with the conversation as you felt. But his voice had a different quality to it, something much more hushed than you'd heard in years.
"In their world, you died on Friday."
Oh.
Well that sucked.
You sat there, stunned, letting the scene at the table just wash over you.
You were meant to die on Friday? The Friday that just passed? The Friday you had plans to go get a haircut and visit the park again afterschool?
If you died on Friday how could you study for finals next week? How could you beat the Enderdragon or finally gotten better at Ultrakill like you'd promised yourself months ago?
You still had so much to do, how could you have died on Friday?
And with that you drifted, mind reeling, trying to grapple with the idea of your life cut so short. Death was scary, and to think that it had grabbed you in another world, when you had so many hopes to fulfill and regrets left to settleā¦
Bruce was snapping his fingers in front of your face when you finally connected your body and mind again. He had knelt down next to your chair, face pulled into something distinctly concerned.
His voice came back to you like waves crashing on a beach.
"(Name)ā¦."
"(Name) sweetheartā¦."
"back to meā¦."
"care of youā¦."
"(Name)?"
"(Name)?"
You came back to yourself with the last call of your name, slightly louder than the others, only one question on your tongue.
"H-How did I die?" It was quiet, wavering so unlike the tone you'd had before.
You felt Jason's solid palm on your shoulder, a grounding weight as he answered somewhere above you.
"Scarecrow attack on the subway, you were one of the casualties. You were on your way to school when it happened."
Now things started to make senseāthe impromptu breakfast, Bruce's insistence that you miss school, the whole family coming together that night for dinner.
"But I didn't see it on the news?"
Dick's voice, so gentle, so forlorn, from across the table, "Nightwing and Red Hood managed to capture Scarecrow before sunrise. We had enough evidence of his plans to put him away before he could really hurt anyone."
Oh, well that made sense too.
The only thing that didn't make sense was why they were still taking care of you like this. Stopping the attack was one thing, and you could find it in you to be grateful that they saved your life. But then what was with the museum visit and the special dinner from Alfred and the careful nursing you back to health?
Maybe if they'd cared about you before, you'd understand, but they didn't.
Did you have to die for them to start caring?
That thought was devastating, like a big black hole opened up in the bottom of your ribcage and pulled your heart down down down. Your throat was tight, your eyes started to burn, your food churned uncomfortably in your stomach.
"I don't understand." God you felt like a little kid again, so far out of your depth, unable to keep up with the family you'd once considered your own.
Bruce was rubbing circles on the back of your hand, another grounding point.
"What don't you understand, sweetheart"
He'd called you sweetheart as a child. Among other pet namesāhoney, darling, bugāgod was it weird to hear them again.
"So what?" you really wished you could project confidence into your voice, desperate not to bear your neck to the world so easily.
Bruce's face contorted again, and your father looked so, so sad.
"Ask, honey, ask me what it is you're thinking. Let me in, let me fix what I've broken."
The others shuffled out of the room silently as you shook in your seat, leaving you and Bruce alone in the dining room. Later you'd appreciate it, but currently it felt like being trapped in the bullpen.
"You don't care. You never cared," you were parroting what you'd already said, but they meant something different now, something less cynical and more raw.
"Why is it that I had to die for you to speak to me. I-I don't know you anymore, not since you left me." The tears were flowing freely now, headache pounding at the pressure of your emotions, cascading over your cheeks.
"You left me! I was so young, and I needed you, and you left me! Why wasn't I enough? I would have done anything for you. I would have gone anywhere, worn any cape, been anything if it meant that you would just look at me."
Bruce was crestfallen, and it was with shocking clarity that you realized you could read him. You still knew him and after all these years you'd never forgotten what it felt like to understand him.
"I've been so alone in this house. I don't know anyone here. I fill the gaps myself, but god, Dad, I'm so tired. And I'm so alone."
Not many people could read Bruce Wayne, and you thought you'd left that club long ago, but evidently not.
It was in the pull of his brows, so alike your own.
It was the open grief in his eyes, ones you'd seen in another color in the mirror.
It was in the slump of his shoulders, the same ones you used to fall asleep on after galas.
"(Name)ā¦I'm sorry. I'm sorry for a hundred things. I wish I could go back in time and beat some sense into myself. I wish I'd listened to Alfred when he told me I was doing the wrong thing."
Alfred? Alfred knew? Alfred cared? Another thing to unpack later.
Bruce continued on, determined, "But I have the rest of my life to offer you apologies, tonight I'm going to give you promises, ones I intend to keep."
You just kept sniffling, focusing on a spot on his collar instead of meeting his eyes.
"I promise I'm going to be there for you from now on. I'm going to fulfill my responsibilities as your father, and I will never let you go again."
Pause. Never? What an odd thought.
His words were constricting instead of comforting.
You wanted a father, but not one born out of guilt.
Your death had been thwarted, so why was there still the feeling of a collar tightening around your neck? You wanted to rebuild your relationship with Bruce, not be thrust into whatever echo of the past he saw when he looked at you.
"You're mine, not in the way that the others are, but in the way that you are. Do you understand, sweetheart? It's okay if you don't right now, it's been a long night."
No you didn't understand. What did that mean 'not in the way the others were'? It was a little strong for a promise made so easily.
You shook your head, uneasy with the 'promises' you'd been made.
He just pulled you into his chest, cradling you with one large hand on your neck, "Lets get you to bed, you're due for another round of painkillers soon."
"Don' want them," you groaned, the few times you'd woken up after taking Bruce's meds you'd felt a syrupy tug at the corners of your brain, hard to shake off.
A thought struck you, one you kicked yourself for not realizing before. And then you kicked yourself again because there was absolutely no way you were right about what you were thinking.
Bruce held you tighter, almost trying to fuse the two of you together, "I promised I'd take care of you, didn't I? That means not letting you neglect your health. You're taking medication tonight, and tomorrow when you wake up, we'll have a long conversation about certain changes that need to be made. But that's for when you're a little more up to it."
Medication schedule, huh? Two little pink pills that made you oh so sleepy? Blame it on the concussion addled haze in your head, but that was real fishy.
But Batman? Bruce Wayne? Doing what you thought he was doing?
Noā¦right?
And changes? What changes?
Warning bells, the same ones that rang when you'd first gone to brunch with your father, started ringing again, cutting through the rest of your thoughts.
Yes, you wanted changes, but not like this. Yes you wanted to reconnect with your family, but not like this. You didn't want to die. You didn't want to be concussed. You didn't want to feel like you couldn't breathe, caged in Bruce's arms.
"No more pink pills," you rasped out against his sternum, testing at the hold of your new restraints, "make me feel gross."
You might not be a Bat, but it was common sense not to willingly take sedatives, no matter how carefully presented to you.
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(A/n: Again, in all honesty, this chapter gave me a newfound appreciation for angst writers because omg is it hard to write a scene where a character's bearing open their heart without squirming uncomfortably in your seat. Anyway, as always, all feedback is appreciated and well loved!!!)
(A/n: Hello again :) hope you enjoy this chapter, I know you guys have been waiting for reader to stand up for themself and here it is! also, some of the big reveals you've been wondering about are in the works, so please bear with me as I try to get them to you quickly and thoroughly)
Why's your family trying to connect so hard with you after so many years of neglect? Well . . . I guess its not all that bad- why are they staring so hard???
(Masterlist)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The family settled into their designated spots at the table: Jason to your right, Bruce at the head, Dick across from Jason, and Damian to the other side of Tim.
The setup mirrored your awkward family dinner from Friday night, the only difference being the subtle buzz in your nerves, both from the painkillers and your bubbling frustration.
You didn't probe the topic right away, instead waiting until dinner was starting to wrap up before poking the bear.
This time around, Jason didn't do any of that weird bullshit about serving you food, only because Alfred had taken that responsibility beforehand.
Well, kinda. Your worries about upsetting your already unhappy stomach with a heavy Sunday roast turned out to be unnecessary, since Alfred had made you an entirely separate meal.
Your food consisted of warm miso soup and a side of some kind of seasoned tofu. For a second, you couldn't believe that Alfred had taken the time to make you something separate from the others, it was out of character for the man.
For the gang of vigilantes, Alfred regularly made specialized meals, but since you weren't usually recovering from massive injuries, you just went along with whatever was on the table that day. Regardless of the dish, the food was always high-quality and delicious.
You'd never complained, and he'd never deviated, until today.
You supposed that a concussion was reason enough to get a different meal, but it was still odd to have that kind of direct attention on you, doubly so from Alfred.
Whatever, at least it saved you from Jason playing Jenga with your food again.
You still felt intensely watched by the people around the table, but kept your head buried firmly down at your plate until it was time for dessert. Only after Alfred had set out the Bread Pudding (you got a platter of cut fruit) did you clear your throat and look up at Bruce, who was already looking straight at you.
This was it. You'd had the craziest three days of your life. Your boundaries (built over years of careful movement through a house that wasn't yours) had been violated repeatedly, you'd had not a smidge of autonomy (upon reflection), the people you'd come to accept as unfortunate constants had completely flipped their personalities, and you'd been kidnapped by the fucking Riddler because he thought that Bruce would come for you.
And craziest of all was that he was right.
You'd put up with it only because you had to, it wasn't like these fuckers let you get a word in edgewise, instead dragging you along like a passenger on the rollercoaster of your life.
And now, they were essentially threatening to isolate you entirely, after 3 days of completely insane behavioral changes.
You weren't quite sure if you were the one going through psychosis or they were.
Inhale, exhale.
You cleared your throat again and started slowly, "Tim said you had my phone? That the doctors gave it to you at the hospital or something?"
Bruce answered back just as calmly, cutting into his dessert as he responded, "Yes, that's right."
This asshole really wanted you to spell it out, huh? World's greatest detective my ass.
"Could I have it back?" No please, no explaining yourself. You didn't need to, the request was perfectly reasonable. Somewhere inside you knew Bruce didn't care much about reasonable. This was the same man that dressed up as a Bat and beat the shit out of criminals every night.
"No."
Like father like son.
Inhale, exhale.
"Why not?"
The rest of the table was quiet, watching the exchange carefully.
Bruce lifted his bite toward his mouth, "No screens, remember? That's what the doctor said." He frowned, "You do remember that, correct?"
Funny how Tim had said the same thing, huh? These people either thought you were stupid or were banking on you not to question them.
"I do. I also remember her saying that I could have them back after 48 hours."
"Ah and therein lies the problem. It hasn't been 2 days yet, sweetheart, you're not cleared for screens."
Sweetheart?
Inhale, exhale.
"Yeah, funny, Tim said the same thing." You pretended not to notice the withering glare the others sent his way. "He also said that you're not planning to give me my phone back even after the time's up, so uh what's the deal there?"
Bruce continued to fix his icy blue eyes at a point through you. "For smoothest recovery, we'll be increasing your screentime slowly. It wouldn't do you any good if you immediately went back to the numbers you had before, and- hours a day? Really? It'll be good for you to find some other hobbies."
At that you had to laugh, something disbelieving and forced.
"You know, its not even really about the phone, it's..." You trailed off, waving your hands around towards the table.
Your father leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and bringing his hands into a clasp in front of his face. Terrible manners and a guarded pose, he was gearing up for something and while you couldn't put a name to it, so were you.
He raised a brow, "It's what, exactly?"
Inhale, exhale.
Maybe when you were younger, still licking your wounds from being tossed to the side, you would have lost your bravado there, clamming up and holing back up in your room.
But you'd worked hard to get away from that, becoming someone who wasn't deathly afraid of confrontation. You wouldn't start the fight, but that didn't mean you'd let someone walk all over you.
That said, when it came to Bruce, phrasing was important. You'd been a silent bystander to many of his fights with the others, slinking around the manor and listening in to them play mental gymnastics.
The second any of them heard something that could be twisted in their favor, they would take it and twist, you knew that.
So you paused a second to think about how you could say this. Again, he'd find some way somehow to misconstrue anything you could possibly say, but from your side, you had to be smart about this. You didn't have years of experience fighting Bruce like the others, but he'd never had the chance to study you the way that you had been doing to him.
You were, at the end of the day, his child.
"You tell me, Bruce. for the past three days, you've been...like a whole different person. Is that what this is? Are you dosed with something? Are all of you doused with something? Because you have to recognize none of this is normal."
"What part exactly isn't normal?"
"The part where you care."
At that, Bruce worked his jaw.
"I care more than you think."
"Really?"
Jason had given up part way through the conversation and lounged back in his seat, slowly working through his dessert with a smug set to his lips. Tim's eyes were wide, bouncing between yourself and Bruce, the gears in his head visibly at work. Damian was still perfectly poised, his stance coiled up in preparation for a fight you wouldn't be having.
Dick, ever the martyr, stepped in to diffuse the palpable tension around the table. Or maybe he was just an attention whore who lived for the fantasy of trying to stitch his broken family together every time.
Probably the second.
"Wait. Both of you, calm down. (Name), of course Bruce cares, we all care-"
Inhale, exhale.
"Really? I mean, sure, fine, I concede, maybe you think you care, but that doesn't change the fact that you nothing you've done has been normal since Friday!"
"Friday? You mentioned you thought that was a PR stunt, is that was this is all about? You believe that any intention to be a father must be because of some external influence? Or that I have to be dosed in order to want to spend time with my child?"
Bruce's volume didn't get any louder, a dangerous illusion of calm, even though by the end he was practically hissing through his teeth, eyes narrowed into something sharp.
"Yes." The words slipped out before you could stop them, quiet but they seemed to echo around the room.
You continued, "I do think there has to be something foul at play for you to talk to me because why wouldn't I? I can count on two hands the amount of times we've had a conversation over the last 8 years!"
"You don't care about me! And I was fine with that! I was finally fine with that! I made my peace with it. With you. But then you come back, demanding toāwhat, get breakfast, sit through family dinners, follow medication schedules? For fucks sake, Bruce! Why couldn't you just let me live in peace?"
"You threw me to the side, you gave up on me. But why'd you have to come back."
The words weren't stopping, not even as you watched, tunnel vision on your father, as Bruce's face turned shades paler (no small feat), his knuckles white around his utensils.
"Now that's not fair, (Name)." Dick again butted in, hands raised with his palms up, staring intently at you, cornflower blue eyes unblinking. "This is family, and that means understanding that-"
You were tired of this conversation already, head starting to pound a steady thrum in the back of your skull, but you'd tussle the verbal 5v1 if needed, no going back now.
Inhale, exhale.
But it wasn't you that responded. It was Jason, hands scrubbing over his face, grin gone, looking more exhausted than he was a minute ago.
"No, they're right. They're right, Dickie, you know that. We knew this was going to happen, and you can try to pull as much bullshit as you want around them, but the little bird's smart. Always has been."
"Jason-" Tim started, urgency in his tone.
But Jason never listened once he got started.
"No, Timbers, I'm not-" he exhaled harshly, clearly frustrated, "I put up with this shit because you all said it would work out. That (Name) wouldn't ask questions, and when I said that this would blow up in our faces, you told me that we'd come clean. "
You felt frozen, like the room was revolving around you, time becoming syrupy and slipping right through your fingers.
"What? Come clean? Come clean about what? Jason-"
"Jason. Stop." Bruce this time, barking sharply at Jason from the head of the table. "This is not how we agreed to tell-"
Dick looked pissed, glaring daggers into Jason from across the table, "Wow, Little Wing, well done. Now they're even more confused, you were the one harping on about a gentle appr-"
Inhale, exhale.
Jason cut them both off, "You heard them! You heard what happens when (Name) slips through our hands, you know this! Right now, concussed, sitting at a table with people that are practically strangers, is this a gentle approach? You want to lose ours too, you fuckheads!"
Lose...you? And who was 'them'? And why was the room starting to spin even faster?
Tim was looking straight at you, the only one at the table that was still focusing on you, Damian watching the exchange between the three oldest, still bickering, with clear disgust and disbelief.
"(Name), listen to me, I know you're confused, but you need to stop and breathe, you're panicking. Stop-"
Oh. He was right, you weren't breathing properly anymore.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
While you tried to suck down some actual air, head pounding, Tim just continued to say something at you, words too quiet to be heard over the thump in your ears and Dick, Jason, and Bruce's fighting.
"(Name) is on the verge of passing out. Congratulations to all of you, we've done exactly what we most feared. Now if you could stop acting like imbeciles for ONE SECOND, you'd see that they're swaying in their seat."
Damian, making a stunning debut in the ring.
But he was right, get yourself together, you have shit to do.
Inhale, exhale.
You were going to get your answers, no taking the easy way out and passing out this time.
"From the top, no bullshit, no lies, what happened? Who are 'they'? And what do you mean lose me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(A/n: OMG WE'RE HERE, WE FINALLY MADE IT, the (so far) climax of the series, where I get to deliver to you my rendition of "the big one", the fight that gets you some answers. Answers that are coming....next time, YAY! (sorry i wanted to answer them in this chapter, but I'm not happy with how that went, and you guys deserve a better draft than I currently have) so until we meet again!
Also, I hope I've redeemed myself with reader finally gaining a backbone! I've heard the people, I know you guys have wanted to see reader stand up for themself and so have I! This is how I see it going down, but as always all feedback is more than appreciated! <3)
Thats the 3rd one now. Another tenant in your apartment complex who died in the past couple months. Unfortunately, you were the prime suspect, having moved in 3 months ago. As the new guy, you didn't really know anyone, this whole situation not improving that.
You open your phone to yet another email from your landlord covering all the new safety and security precautions added to the building. You didn't really need the email to notice, there were cameras everywhere.
Not that you really had a problem with it, I mean maybe it was a bit imposing on your privacy, but who cares. You really didn't want to die or move out, this apartment was such a steal. A luxury Tokyo skyrise in the middle of Shibuya that you got for a criminally cheap price. In fact, the deal was so good, your mother cried tears of joy when you signed. You'd have to be insane to move out.
The community was awesome too. They always upkept the community areas, minded their own buisness, and never bothered you. Well, that was until everybody thought you were a serial killer, hiding their kids and glaring like you were insane. Being a prime suspect means having the police called on you more times than they ever should have in your life.
Weirdly, the murders happened in different ways. The first one was a rich old man who was caught for embezzling funds from the non-profit he worked at. The good thing about being rich and powerful is that he suffered virtually no consequences, living with no guilt about the money he stole from underpaid and overworked employees.
They say that he fell in his shower, hit his head, and died. That was all too convenient, knowing that the next death happened a short 2 weeks after. You didn't really lose much sleep over that anyways, you hated that guy.
Everybody knew there was a killer after the second one. The man in 6B, the apartment across from you, was brutally stabbed, a gaping hole in his stomach from the knife.
A pretty clear sign of an incident, I mean, unless the knife moved itself. This one really hurt, you gave that man leftovers every time you baked. Not only was the death tragic, but you were right across from him. Now you had to live with too much food and a constant state of paranoia.
Safe to say the police showed up your door at the bright and early hour of 2 AM, knocking on your door when you were literally naked.
After that, you started giving your leftovers to Gojo, the guy down the hall. He was a lot nicer than the other guy, giving you small gifts back and inviting you over. It was nice having a friend, making friends being in your 20s was hard enough, having someone trust you when you're allegedly a serial killer makes it even worse.
Plus he was hot.
"Hey did you notice all the new cameras Yumi-san installed?" He said, grabbing a bottle of wine from his fridge.
You snorted. "Kinda hard not to. I think she's trying to hide one in the plant outside my door cause she thinks its me."
He handed you a glass "Oh come on, everyone knows it couldn't be you. You're like, what, 2 feet tall?" He snarked sarcastically. "And you're probably too scared to pick up a knife anyways."
"I can't help but notice, they all seem to be related to me..." You ran a hand through your hair, taking a sip of the wine. "Oh my god, this is good, what is it?"
"Just something I got as a gift once." He said casually, and sat down next to you at the counter.
"mhh, well its really nice. I think it might be my new favorite."
"Good for you." He shrugged, then leaned in. "So, how've you been, anything important that you wanna share?"
"Right." You groaned. "So many things. First, I'm pretty sure my manager is pregnant with my coworker's baby. Second, theres this perv that stares at me in the lobby. And I knows he's a perv because he stares at all the girls, y'know the guy with the camera and big beard."
He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Anybody reported him yet?"
"Well nobody can. There's no actual evidence he's doing anything weird, plus you can't punish somebody for looking at you in a public area. Well we all know he's doing something, god, the world would be better without those kinds of people."
"Come on, you don't mean that. Sure they're freaks, but doesn't death seem like a stretch to you?"
The wine kept coming. "Yeah you're right. I need to be more careful talking shit about tenants now, they might end up dead and the police'll be at my door again."
"mh." He set his glass down. "About that, I can actually get them off your back y'know."
Your eyes lit up. "Oh my god really? How?"
He shrugged. "I know a guy who knows a guy. Must suck having them pound on your door at 3 AM."
"Satoru, you are like the best person ever. Call me if you ever need anything, actually."
"Oh trust me, I will. In fact, I think I need a foot massage, right now."
You gagged. "Nevermind, you're gross. Don't talk to me."
"I'm joking." He flicked your head playfully.
"Ow! That hurt."
"You take things too seriously."
-
"Come on, you've got more in you."
Satoru sighed as he kicked the dead body in front of him.
"What a pain. He could've given me away." He rolled his eyes. "Fucking creep, although I can't really say anything."
Warm blood dripped onto the tile floor with a steady rhythm, a sharp metallic smell filling the air. He kneeled down, wiping the blood onto the dead man's shirt. It pooled under him, almost getting on his shoes.
His eyes glowed, an icy cold blue in the dark. Satoru always felt... an empty sort of satisfaction after a murder. The same as finishing an assignment, he treated it like a task that got done.
Below him was a box full of photos of all the women in their building, of course including you. Satoru simply couldn't let that slide. He pulled out a lighter, setting the box on fire, watching as the photos curled up into ashes and smoke.
He tucked the clean knife into his pocket and walked out the door as if nothing happened.
"Those fake cameras aren't fooling anyone. What a shitty landlord."
-
"Officers are currently touring the scene. The man was found with multiple stab wounds on his neck and abdominal area, and it seems that the suspect set a large fire in the apartment as well. Most evidence is burned, more on this case will come soonā"
Red and blue lights illuminated your face. You lounged on the couch, watching yet another murder report. This time, about the exact man that you complained to Satoru about a week ago. You grabbed your phone, quickly dialing his number.
"Oh my god, Satoru, t-the guy I was talking about... he's dead."
"What?"
"Yeah no, I'm not joking. He's dead, Satoru, I think I'm cursed." You whispered, your stomach sinking.
"Stop spouting bullshit right now, maybe we should focus on the fact that there's another murderā"
"āIt's my fault. I don't know how, but its somehow my fault." You choked up. "Iā maybe they were right about it being me."
"Hey, hey, come over, lets just talk. Don't cry, we both know that you're innocent. It's all just one big coincidence."
You calmed at his words, they were exactly what you needed to hear. "Thank you Toru... I'll be there, thank you really. For always being there for me."
He softened at the nickname. "No problem, and don't worry about it. You're always welcome."
-
Satoru opened the door as you waited outside, eyes red and puffy. He opened his arms as you gladly fell into his embrace, crying silently into his chest. He made you feel so safe.
"shh... shh... come on in.."
You walked into his apartment, a much bigger unit than yours. Falling onto the couch, you pulled a throw blanket over yourself. Satoru returned from the kitchen, a glass of wine and a new bottle in his hands for you.
"Thank you.." You whispered hoarsly, watching as he poured it for you . It was blood red, falling gracefully into the glass like a liquid gold.
You brought it to your mouth, tasting the same bittersweet feeling on your tongue. "Oh its the same from last time... you're just too sweet."
"Of course, I have too. I meanā you're crying on my couch right now." He cooed, sitting down next to you.
You sniffled. "N-no I don't want to be a burden. I'm sorry, I should goā"
"āhey don't leave. Lets talk about it."
You sighed. "Whats there to even talk about? Every person I hate drops dead in the next second I meanā" You rolled your eyes. "What kind of etsy witch cast a spell on me?" You let out a humorless laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
"And you're mad about that?"
You sipped your wine. "Well yeah, they were annoying, but a death penalty is a bit of a stretch."
"Is it though? You don't have any control over it, its pretty irrational for you to be caring so much about people who were the scum of society anyways."
"Stop trying to make me feel better." You said, even though it was working. "Thats a human life you're talking about."
"Blah blah blah." He rolled his eyes. "You think they thought that about you?" He leaned in, gazing at you with irises so blue they could've seen right through you. "Come on, let karma do its thing."
"God Satoru, you're pretty insensitive." You met his gaze, nervous with your proximity.
"Trust me, I've seen a lot of things. None of them are worth hating myself for a person who I despised anyways."
"Shut up..." you muttered, pouring yourself another glass. More never hurt, especially with the state you were in now.
-
You didn't even know how long it was, but you were drunk laughing on Satoru's couch in the middle of the night.
"Dude, and then he walked into the lobby, with like 10 suitcases. And the bellhop had to help him of course, but that bitch didn't carry a single one." You rolled your eyes. "Like come on man, put your big boy pants on and pull some of your weight"
He groaned in annoyance. "Its always freeloaders, I bet he jerks off to the idea of unpaid workers."
"EXACTLY! Of course everyone was looking at him weird becauseā what the fuck was he doingā and he had the audacity to glare at me back. Yeah maybe he should've been murdered."
Satoru snorted, watching you down another glass. "You can't be a perv and a nuisance, choose a struggle. Glad his prize possession was the thing burned, that box of photos was creepy as fuck."
"Right" You rolled your eyes. "Thats why guys like that don'tā wait..." You paused. "What box of photos?"
"The box of photos? The ones of all the girls he took in the lobby?"
"Satoru, there was no box of photos. Thats why nobody could report him. How do you know about that?"
He froze for a second, before gaining back his usual composure. "Well obviously because I watched the newsā I mean." He said, chuckling nervously.
You frowned. "No I paid very close attention to the news. They never mentioned that, all the evidence was burnedā"
"āLook Y/n I think thats enough wine for tonight. Come on lets get you cleaned up for bed."
You held your hands up. "No no, stop it." You looked at him, eyebrows furrowing. "Where did you say you were at earlier in the evening?"
He sighed. "I was at the gym, I thought I already said thatā"
"āno you weren't, I was at the gym the entire evening." Your expression dropped as realization dawned upon your face. You stared into his expression, watching the flash of panic quickly dissappear from his face.
"Oh my god, you'reā you'reā"
A heavy silence filled the air as you sat in absolute shock. There was no way, but you were so certain. It was Satoru all along.
"Come on, Y/n..." He sighed.
You stood up, swaying a little from the shock. "Its you. Cause I always told you how I felt about those people, a-and" You felt your breath getting quicker. "Oh my god."
He got up, towering over you. "Shh... you said it yourself, we'd be better off without them."
"B-but thats stillā" You backed up.
"Don't preach to me now." He leaned in, he was so close, too close. "I'm just trying to make your life easier."
"Satoru whatā" You backed away. This intense feeling overtook your body, making your legs want to buckle. Fear.
He looked down at you, sighing. "Don't look at me like that baby... I'm helping you out."
No. No no no, you had to run. This man was very very dangerous, and he was bigger and stronger than you and you were in his apartment. Who knows what could happen to you.
"Don't come any closer." You said, backing away as if he were a predator.
He shook his head in disappointment. "You weren't supposed to find out like this. Well I can't let you go now..." his hands found their way beside your neck, pinning you to the wall. "What if you rat me out?"
Your breathing was heavy and panicked. "I-I won't I promise, I'll leave you alone, Satoru, please."
He let out a low groan. "Y'sound so pretty when you beg..." He leaned down, his words right against your ear. "Still, you aren't going anywhere. Didn't go through all that just for you to slip away."
You gulped. He was so tall, it wasn't fair.
His calloused hand moved up and down the shape of your body. "You come in at ungodly hours in the night in those skimpy tank tops, talking about how much you wish those people didn't exist. And when you look at me with those longing eyes... I just had to fix it."
"Satoru, you have to stopā"
You felt his cold touch run up your shirt, sending shivers up your spine. "Stop huh? Shh baby... I know you want this."
"No, this is so wrong, I can'tā"
"No." He said with a deep rumble. "Don't think about whats wrong right now, just follow what feels good."
You whimpered softly as he fondled with your tits. This man had killed people, you didn't know what to do... "Satoru, get off of me, y-you're a murderer."
He groaned, low and rough at the feeling of your skin. "Don't you see? It was all for you. Only ever you."
You felt his fingers against your clothed cunt, pressing. "So fucking wet... you're pretty bad at lying." He grinned, his blue eyes glinting dangerously, looking like he wanted to devour you whole.
He pushed your panties aside, rubbing the lips of your cunt gently. "I love you y'know? You're so sweet, I just don't want anything to happen to you."
His fingers pushed into you, long and thick. "S-Satoruā"
"Fuck baby, say my name like that." He felt your walls clench around him. "Knew you wanted me, thats a good girl."
Your back arched as they began to move inside of you, slowly as you struggled to adjust. He leaned into you, eyes on your cunt, hitting your g-spot with impossible accuracy.
"Oh my god"
"How're you so tight huh? You must not be doing this much." He kissed your forehead, speeding up. "Thats okay baby. I'll make you feel good, every fucking day if you let me."
You gripped his hair, pulling at the soft white locks as the rough pad of his thumb met your clit. "Noā its too much, nghā"
He let out this pornagraphic moan that made you shiver. "Yeah baby, let it out, let it allll out for me."
You pulsed around his fingers, feeling your orgasm rise. They were so deep in you, moving with the exact precision to make you cum. "S-Satoru, m'gonnaā" You moaned loudly, whining as you spilled all over him.
He grinned, pulling out, his fingers shining with your slick. "Good girl."
You legs shook as you struggled to stand, arms wrapping around his neck for stability. "We've got to stop."
He let out a cold, heartless laugh as he tossed you onto the couch effortlessly. You sank into the plush cushion, watching his figure tower over you. "A little too late for that now."
His smile was all teeth, cold and predatory as he stared straight into your eyes.
"Come on, what do you say we see this whole thing through?"
A/N: I don't really like writing smut, but I'll do it anyways because I read so much. Please let me know if we want me to write him seeing the whole thing through š
I like that trope where the mc is this super demanding, high-maintenance partner and maybe someone makes a comment or they just realize somethingāor even a āmessage from the futureā or ārealized they were in a storyā type of shit, doesnāt matterāand they find themselves trying to suppress all those bratty personality traits in order to either make it so their partner(s) doesnāt despise them and ruin their life OR so they can easily step aside and make it easier for their partner to go towards their ādestined loveā.
And their partnerās reaction to them no longer nagging and being super demanding of them is just: āAre you cheating on me?ā Or āOkay, so whereās the other bitch at.ā Because if the mc isnāt nagging them, then who are they nagging?
Warning: possible pseudocest/incest (like, thereās an option for it), creepy behaviour, yandere behaviour, Bruce Wayne, I imagine this one as female reader, NSFW etc.
I genuinely do actually love the thought of Bruce dressing you upāplatonically, romantically, in that weird pseudocest way, whatever.
I personally prefer it when it was all initially consensual. And you can interpret all this however you want honestly.
But I find it a lot more impactful when things donāt start out the same way they end up. Where once upon a time, this was all innocent. Fine. Simple. Sweet, even.
Maybe something happens and you almost dieāand this happens publicly. Or, he finds out something horrible happened to you.
And maybe he realizes he hasnāt been spending enough time with his kid.
So, randomly, he begins to be the one to wake you up in the morning instead of Alfred. He starts helping you brush through your hair, manage it into any hairstyle you like after watching dozens of videos on different hairstyles to do on you since it wasnāt like women generally liked him near their hair.
Then, he starts picking your accessories out with you. Then, he starts picking your accessories out for you.
Suddenly, you find that your once somewhat distant father is nowā¦ clingy, to say the least. Obsessive. A gigantic shadow.
Still, itās Bruce and he doesnāt seem to have bad intentions so, you let him. This way, you get a dad. And this way, he gets another kid.
Eventually it develops into Bruce having complete and utter control over your wardrobe. And he didnāt even have to demand it.
And he doesnāt have to demand it now as heās slipping your shorts on for you, tying up your hair, buttoning up all your shirtsāthings heād never done when you were younger. Things heād never done when you needed them.
And for the pseudocest/incest version: I think heād cup the weight of your breasts in his palms, rolling them in his hands to figure out your bra size instead of just looking on your actual bra tags or getting the tailor.
And I think, sometimes, heād inspect you, pulling those pretty pussy lips apart with his thumbs just to check his sweet thing hasnāt lost their virginity yet, cooing when he founds your hymen in tact and giving an affectionate kiss to your clit. Or, finding out it isnāt in tact and getting a bit of questioning on why it isnāt in tact since the hymen can be torn by a great number of things. If it turns out to be something simple like you didnāt know and you probably tore it through exercise then heāll just give a soft click of his tongue and an affectionate caress to your inner thigh.
But Bruce is still the Batman. So if he catches you lying, he can have you over his knee in seconds.
I think, silently, heād be the type that at the beginning of it all, he just sort ofā¦ brushes his fingers over where he truly wants to touch. Like when slips your panties up your legs and he ends up grazing his fingers over your assālight enough that it looks like an accident.
And I think youād end up in the sweetest but tiniest little dresses for him.
And I mean, for him. No one else is seeing you like this. Not even the rest of your family. Especially so.
Because he knows exactly what kind of kids he raised. And he knows that they donāt know how to play nice with dolls like you.
Warning: omegaverse, pseudocest/incest, mentions of virginity, male omegas are intersex by technicality I believe, etc.
Omega Bruce Wayne who is obsessed with Omega Readerās virginity and is even more obsessed with keeping Alphas and even Betas away from you whenever your heat eventually came only to be the one to slide between your legs later, his little pink cock already chubbed up against you.
