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the-daydreaming-show · 9 months

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❝baby mine, don't you cry❞ — Richard “Dick” Grayson

jason's version

The arrival of your first child and the chaotic energy he brings into your life (which is saying a lot, why chaos is a part of you). So imagine the gray hair you obtained thanks to your First Joy.

NOTE:

People forget that as Dick was a troublesome little sh*t and he still is. We love him but he is the chaotic son and @igotmessymind agrees with me!!!

This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that i have create. I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

WARNINGS: Dick's parents die; a boy who is very angry with the world; a very stressed new mother (you); Bruce is there, but that's not what this story is about, but he is a good father in this world.

Technically, the first time you met Dick was directly after his parents died, but he wouldn't remember that until he was an adult. And you never counted that as your first interaction with your boy because of the tragedy of the whole scenario.

You and Bruce had gone to the circus that day in the subtlest way a Wayne could go anywhere. It was a date night, one that both of you had recently defined as mandatory every week. First so that Bruce could have a break, and second because that way you guys started spending time together somewhere other than the batcave. Something that, according to Alfred, you both desperately needed as a couple.

You two were in the front row when Mary and John Grayson plummeted to their deaths in the middle of their circus act, leaving a horrified ten-year-old Dick. The boy's scream was something that, even years later, if you closed your eyes, you could still hear with terrifying clarity. Once the tent was evacuated and the crime scene isolated by the GCPD, the newly promoted Captain Jim Gordon arrived and, before you left, he very subtly approached you and your husband. He asked you if you could do something for the child. The forensics team will arrive at any moment now, and they will have to uncover the bodies. Nobody couldn't get Dick to move or to react in any way, and Jim wanted to spare the boy seeing his parents like this more than he already had.

Jim had been aware of your and your husband's identities for a while, so the request didn't surprise you. To the contrary, you quickly agreed. He took you back to the tent. Dick had been lowered from the platform, but he remained curled up in a ball on the floor, next to where the bodies of his parents were covered in white sheets, which were turning redder from day to day. Little with each passing moment. You approached him, with the most delicate step possible, and placed a hand on his hundred, entering his mind gently and gently guiding his consciousness out of the shock of the situation. It was superficial magic that didn't get you into the boy's mind very much, just enough to help him and not force him. In a few seconds the boy's head snapped up, and you let Jim quickly take control of the situation, allowing one of his detectives to guide you back out of the closed area, then back to your husband.

You had to help your husband out of his own shock that same night, forcing him to stay home and not go out as Batman, without accepting any complaints. Alfred helped, agreeing with the idea immediately. The death of the Grayson's in front of his own son was something that came very close to Bruce's heart, too many buried memories that arose uncontrollably.

The first official meeting that both of you remember is almost two weeks later. After you and Bruce had decided to take care of little Dick into your own hands. All because you find out how the boy kept sneaking out of the houses where the state put him at least once a day since that fateful night.

“Dick, this is my beautiful wife, y/n Wayne” Bruce introduced them both that day when the boy arrived with his suitcase and his eyes wide open, surprised by all the luxury that Wayne Manor represents. Smile at yourself and look briefly at your husband in reproach for his choice of words. He just shrugged, not at all sorry for his words. It's the truth. You ARE beautiful, and you are MY wife, he thought in his defence, knowing you would listen. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the child between the two of you.

“It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne” The boy said suspiciously, but politely, not believing how good the situation looked for him and not trusting you or your husband at all.

“It's nice to meet you too, Dick” you told him, smiling sweetly “No need to be so formal, just call me y/n, it's fine”

Dick's mind couldn't stop thinking about how pretty you were. The way you were sweet in that first meeting was bittersweet for him, because he reminded him of his own mother, of that affection that she used to give him and that he would never receive from her anymore.

“Lunch is almost done” you tell him as you lean a little more towards Bruce for support, “Are you hungry?. Alfred prepared a buffet just to welcome you” you explained trying to push those thoughts away for now, you desperately wanted him to feel good and comfortable there.

“Alfred?” the boy asked, confused.

“Our butler” Bruce explained

“He's more like family than anything” you clarified, “Like a grumpy grandpa who won't let you touch the stove without breathing over your shoulder” you teased a bit.

“Did he say my name, Mistress y/n?” said the aforementioned, coming from the kitchen and looking at you accusingly.

“No, not at all” you denied it and Dick couldn't help but smile a little at the mischief, to which you winked at him and offered your hand.

“Come on, let me show you the dining room” you invited him and the boy left your hand dangling for a moment, thinking about his next move. But, since you didn't stop smiling or offering him your hand, Dick decided to take it last, mainly because he was hungry.

Dick let you guide him, serve him food. He talked to you a bit during the meal until Bruce had to go to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting, then you showed him the mansion and his room. You promised him that you would go shopping this week to decorate it to his liking so that he would feel more comfortable.

During that week was the honeymoon phase.

The social worker you and Bruce had meetings with before Dick arrived explained about the phase. It's when everything seems perfect and the child shares his best manners. Either out of fear of how you would react. Or hoping to see how long your stay in the house would last, if it's worth getting used to or not. But the act would end sooner or later.

And it was exactly one week later (a Tuesday to be exact), the day after Dick started attending his new school, that the boy act ended and the adjustment phase officially began.

“This stage is the most difficult, so I need you to be prepared for it, especially in a case like Richard's” the social worker explained to both of you with seriousness. You had taken every word she gave you with like it was the bible, but at the end you still weren't ready when it started and everything that happened hit you like a truck.

You were in your studio in downtown Gotham, having a meeting with the designers who work with you and discussing that winter's new clothing collection for the brand. When Nina, your personal assistant, enters the office after timidly knocking on the door with a worried face.

“Mrs. Wayne” she called out to you, to which you look at her, smiling kindly upon seeing her “I know that you asked me not to bother you unless it was an emergency” she said, remembering what you had told her, you frowned immediately worried, because Nina was extremely effective and if she was there it was because it was genuinely an emergency “Gotham Academy is on call, it's about your son” she told you, and you immediately called off the meeting before leaving on the phone.

It turned out that not only had the school called, but GCPD had called Bruce around the same time. Dick, your only ten-year-old boy, had run away from school and ended up being found in Crime Alley by an officer who recognised him from the news. The officer in turn informed Jim Gordon, knowing the proximity to the Wayne's, and he gave the order to bring the boy to his office in the centre of the city, to then call your husband. You never knew what god to thank for Dick that would have been found by one of the few good cops in Gotham, but you did anyway.

“What is he thinking?” you asked worriedly while talking on the phone with Bruce, already on your way to the police station, with Alfred driving, “Anything could have happened to him. If he didn't want to go to school he could have said, he insisted on starting this week, I don't understand!-” you stopped, passing your hand over your eyes and sighing heavily.

“That was probably the point, love” Bruce said softly. “He wanted you to leave him at school and not think about the matter anymore. It is likely that his plan would have always been to escape, surely he would have done the same yesterday if he had not been assigned a partner for his first day” he explained to you, his voice accompanied by the movement of papers on the desk in his own office.

The day before, which had been Dick's first day of school since the death of his parents, the school had assigned one of its older students to guide him on that day, so he had been watched all day. But that day had been different, and your son had gotten up in the bathroom in the middle of the first class, and had not returned to the classroom. So the school had called you when they realised the boy was missing. And Jim had called Bruce shortly after when the patrolman found him. And Dick had taken a cab to Crime Alley, of all the places.

“He's safe, you need to calm down, love” Bruce continued, getting up from his desk, to walk up to the large windows in his office and look out over the city, as if he could see you from the top of Wayne Tower “We'll talk to him when he gets home, before dinner, but upsetting you like that won't help” he advised you, even though he was just as worried about what had happened.

“Alright, alright” you whispered while taking a deep breath.

At the door of the police station you were met by a uniform who was waiting for Jim's orders, who took you to the captain's office where, sitting with his head down and his arms crossed tightly across his chest, you found Dick.

“Richard Grayson” you started in a stern tone, walking towards him and crouching down in front of him, to check that he wasn't hurt. “¿What were you thinking?¿Why do you think of getting in Crime Alley alone?” you asked calmly but firmly, looking at me as the boy avoided returning the gesture “Dick, look at me” you insisted, looking for his gaze, but the boy continued to refuse, almost tempted to close his eyes to make his denial clear.

“Mrs. Wayne” Captain Gordon called to you from his desk, where he had been watching the interaction, and you quickly stood up to greet him.

“Jim, you don't know how much I appreciate you for this. I almost had a heart attack when the school called me to say that Dick was missing” you told him as you shook his hand.

“Don't worry, your boy was just taking a walk, a bit of a dangerous adventure, but he came out without a scratch” he reassured you while looking at the crestfallen boy sitting next to you, and he did not miss the way your hand trembled slightly “Gomez” the officer who had brought you to the door looked at his boss ready to receive his order “Why don't you take little Dick to get something to eat from the vending machine down the hall?” and his question didn't need an answer. Dick left with Officer Gomez without saying a word, as you watched his back walk away through the glass in the office door.

“Y/n, please, sit down” Jim asked as he approached one of the chairs on the guest side of his desk, sitting down across from you immediately after you did.

“I'm sorry, I just-” You tried to apologise for how upset you were, but the man stopped you with an understanding smile.

“Don't worry, y/n. I was close to an aneurysm the first time my Barbs ran away from school” he told you trying to calm you down, to which you giggled at the thought of the adorable red-haired little girl who was the only daughter of the Gordon family.

“They start younger and younger” you plead, with a mixture of amusement and concern looking at the older man.

“Well this is Gotham, our kids have to grow up faster than others” he explained to you, while he served a glass of water from the jug that he had on his desk “Your butler had the same reaction when I found your husband walking in the same place years ago, shortly after the death of Thomas and Martha” he remembered, offering you the glass, which you accepted with anguish.

“God, he already acts like Bruce, and he hasn't even been with us for two weeks” you lamented, to which Jim couldn't help but chuckle a bit at your concern.

“Welcome to parenthood, your heart gets used to it sooner or later” he comforted you, running his hand down your back reassuringly.

Things got worse before they got better. Dick started running away not only from school, but from home, and he started yelling at you at unexpected times. There was no way for you to figure out what was making him mad because it was different what you did or didn't do every time he started his tantrum.

That was the case for more than two months after the first incident. Alfred told you that Bruce had been the same for a full year after his parents died. Bruce told you it wasn't your fault, despite what the kid was yelling at YOU all the time. But you could do more than feel guilty. You didn't want to fix things with your magic. When you retired you decided that your life could not be what you did with your power, it was more than just your power, and it was time to start accepting it, enjoying it. But you don't know how to help him without that power, either, at least not in a very deep way. So you did the only thing you could think of, you kept offering your hand to little Dickie, even though half the time he seemed to want to bite his hand.

It all came to a head one afternoon after you brought a very angry Dick to Wayne Manor from school. Gotham Academy had called you to talk after he tried to escape again. They informed you that maybe it was time for you and Bruce to look for another school for the boy, since his behaviour was not appropriate for the establishment.

“Dick, we need to talk” you called out to the boy, seeing him run towards the stairs as soon as you closed the front door. Alfred was shopping for dinner and Bruce was at League HQ, so you were the only one to argue with the kid that day “Dick Grayson, come back here, we're going to have a talk about this sooner or later” you said, going after the boy with a calm step, but Dick heard you coming and ran to his room at the moment he made the second floor of the house, slamming the door shut before you managed to finish climbing the stairs.

You sighed heavily as you stopped at the sound of the door slamming. You wanted desperately to go into the room and demand that the boy tell you what was bothering him so much, you wanted desperately to fix whatever was bothering him so much. But you knew you couldn't really fix the source of his problems, even if you had the magical potential to do so. You learned long ago that death is something even you must let take its course, for the sake of the very existence of the whole. You also didn't want to enter the boy's mind with magic, it wouldn't be fair to him to do that, so your options were limited at the end of the day. So you stood there, helpless.

You were having a hard time, not because you didn't want the task of taking care of Dick, but because it was a mixture of situations that seemed unfair to you. First the poor boy lost his parents together in front of his eyes, and he did so after the death of the Scarlet Witch, after you decided it was better to start a life without the chaos magic that characterised you. If the boy had crossed your path a couple of years earlier, neither Mary nor John had fallen to their deaths that day, you would have stopped it right there in that tent of the circus without much thought. But it hadn't been.

Although, you didn't need to read his mind to know one thing: Dick hated you. Totally and intensely. He had made it clear to you on more than one occasion.

And yes, he did. Dick hated everything about you. He hated the way you made his room look like the ideal in his mind of what he wanted. How you personally prepared his lunches for school. How you wore it and personally attracted you everywhere. How you smile with affection, how you patiently accept every insult and scream. I also hated how you tried so hard that he wouldn't notice that Bruce wasn't there much. Or how you always found him when he got lost in the halls. Also, when you brought him cookies and hot chocolate when he couldn't sleep, even though sugar didn't really help him sleep at all. He only made him happy for a while.

Why couldn't you be like the wicked stepmothers of the stories?

It would be easier for him.

He hated the way you loved him, because it made him want his mom back, and it made him remember that she was gone, it made him want to accept you and Bruce as his family too. But he didn't need a new family. He necessitated his family, his parents, and his circus friends. He wanted his life back.

He hated you. He hated you. He hated you.

Dick curled up on the bed, with the blankets you personally picked out with him, which were Superman, and hid his head on the pillow. There he remained. At eleven years old, Dick had never been the type to be capricious or suspicious. His parents had always taken pride in saying that his son was very well-behaved and fit in wherever they went with the show. But now he just wanted to hate and never stop doing it, he didn't want anything else because the world was cruel, and it didn't deserve more than his hate. You didn't deserve more than that for being so good that it made him want to feel like before, and it pulled his mind to a better place every time you caressed his hair lovingly and made him feel at home.

That night, after eating the sandwich that Alfred had kindly given him when he refused to come down for dinner, he went to sleep without expecting you to come and say good night, as you had done since he arrived at the mansion. Usually, he didn't go to sleep easily, but his desire to avoid you overcame the fear of his nightmares, so he quickly fell asleep.

You arrived after he began to snore softly, already sunk in sleep. You entered, opening the door as quietly as possible, to see him spread out on his bed, with his pyjamas on, and the sheets almost falling off the bed due to his movements. Likewise, you couldn't help but feel the tenderness warm your heart, thinking to yourself that this should be a good step on the right path, because the boy hadn't slept well since he arrived at the mansion and since before, according to the reports of the social worker. So that he was sleeping at that time was good. You took victory silently and closed the door to the room, using the surface of your powers to close the curtains that let the moonlight into the room before walking away.

You went down to the cave after that, where Bruce was getting ready to go out for the night.

“How is he?” he asked while putting on his gloves, as soon as he heard you walking out of the elevator.

“He's asleep” you told him with a big smile, happy for the small victory.

“Really?” Bruce asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes” you answer, reaching her side, unable to contain the smile of happiness, for that reason “I know it's not much considering what happened today-” you started, but your husband stopped you by placing his hands on your cheeks affectionately.

“It's a good thing” he assured you, smiling at you, and you kissed his lips lightly “We still need to talk to him tomorrow though” Bruce said, gently breaking your bubble, to which you sighed.

“If it makes you feel any better, Mistress y/n” Alfred began from the chair in front of the batcomputer “I could make you a list of the number of private schools Master Bruce was expelled from before he finally calmed down” he offered to what Bruce rolled his eyes in amusement “It's including Gotham Academy, of course” he clarified with amusement.

The night passed as normally as it could. But around one in the morning you went upstairs to check on Dick, as you always did at night when you stayed in the cave. It was the third time you'd checked, and he'd been fine the first two times, having started snoring louder on each visit.

So you expected to hear the boy snoring when you reached the hallway of his room, instead, you were met with crying. You stopped in place for a moment, because it was the first time you had heard Dick cry since he had arrived at the mansion.

“Mama” the boy cried, half awake and half asleep, “Mama” kept calling between sobs that shook her little body violently.

The most instinctive part of you walked quickly towards the door with a soft step, but the same logic made you stop at the door before even touching the handle, apart from that he told you that the boy was calling for his mom, for Mary. Not for you, he didn't want you. And for a moment you decided that you would not go in, and we let him cry all he needed, and tomorrow you would try to get him to talk about it. It might be a good time to suggest therapy. Yes, that was the best option and the best way to handle the situation.

“Mom, mom” you heard. Now fully awake, Dick continued to sob with his broken heart, and he broke yours with the sound of his cracking voice. So the institute won.

You walked into the room ready to be yelled at almost immediately. But you did it anyway, sure-footed and ready to do whatever it took to make your precious boy stop suffering once and for all. You knew that that would never leave him, but you would still try.

“Dickie, baby” you said as you approached the bed, to sit on the edge of the mattress next to him, running a hand over his back as he continued to cry and sobbed loudly “My joy, it's okay, you're-” and then the force of the child colliding with your chest stopped you.

In the time Dick had been there, he had never allowed you or Bruce or Alfred to get any closer than to hold his hand or stroke his hair. So when the boy threw himself at you crying and hugging your waist as if his life depended on it, he surprised you. He was hugging you as if he was afraid that you would disappear from one second to the next (theoretically you could do that, it was part of your powers, but that wasn't what the boy was afraid of). He sobbed into your chest as his knuckles turned white from clinging to you.

“It's okay, my joy” you comforted him, hugging him back and kissing his hair “Everything will be alright” you promised him, not quite sure what else to say to make him feel better and hugging him tighter to match his strength, so he would understand that you won't be leaving soon

“I want my mum” the boy sobbed, not with an internal intention to hurt you, but as if asking you to do something. You were an adult, you could fix anything, that's what adults do, and the ten-year-old was practically begging you desperately for a solution as he felt.

“Oh, I know, Dickie. I know” you said hugging him tighter “I'm so sorry, baby” you apologised, feeling bad for having no more than words to handle the situation, knowing that nothing will bring that child back to his parents, no matter how much you want to make it happen for him.

You would do anything for that boy. You would destroy yourself, and you would build yourself up again. Not only that, but you would empty out entire universes and kill God himself if necessary. But for now, you just held him while he cried, while he called out to a mother who lay twenty feet under. You knew, at that moment, that there would never be anything you wouldn't do for that boy. And Dick decided that night that maybe you weren't so bad.

Dick Grayson couldn't believe he was standing in the Batcave. He also couldn't believe his adoptive father was Batman. Now he understood why he was always missing for so long, it wasn't that Bruce was ignoring him, it was that he was down there, being a hero for Gotham City. His mind was racing as he walked around the place asking your husband questions and inspecting every nook, artefact, and blemish he found in the place. You and Bruce watched him from a distance, grinning like fools at the uncontrollable excitement of the boy who had long felt like he was your own.

“This is AMAZING” Dick would say whenever something particularly struck him, which means he said it every few seconds.

“See, he told you he would be excited” you told your husband while you took his hand, he smiled at you and brought your clasped hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles affectionately. A silent way of telling you: You were right, love.

“WOW” exclaimed the boy, he was now standing on the platform where the different suits that your husband had used as Batman are displayed “With all due respect, Bruce, but it's good that you left behind the combination of purple and yellow, it was too much” the boy scoffed, pointing at the first suit on display behind him.

“It was the eighties” your husband defended himself with a grimace, rolling his eyes at how similar the comment was to the one you had made the first time you set foot in the cave several years ago. You just laughed as you looked at him, happily remembering that moment.

“Purple looks amazing on you, my love” you assured him, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Very intimidating” you said, to which both you and Dick chuckled, while Bruce continued to regret his fashion decisions.

“I tried to talk him out of it, Master Dick” Alfred commented, joining the bandwagon of teasing Bruce about his old fashion decisions. “But he insisted,” he shrugged gracefully.

“Okay, I'm going to throw him out of my cave if you don't leave my purple suit alone” Bruce complained, to which you and Dick shared an amused look before the boy returned his attention to the suits on display. Alfred smiled as he watched you kiss your husband in compensation, earning me a goofy smile from him, the one the butler had seen a lot since you two got married.

“HOLY SHIT” Dick suddenly exclaimed, to which you and Bruce turned to look at him wearing it, your husband ready to spring into action at your son's exclamation “You've got the Scarlet Witch suit here!!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, looking at your husband in disbelief before running to stand in front of the glass where your old suit is on display. Well, the word suit was an understatement, because it was a red bodysuit, with a belt, the cape, and high boots. An outfit that was not the best choice for fighting, but you never question it too much, because you were always comfortable in yourself and in that outfit, too.

Bruce and you shared a look. It was time to drop the second bomb on the boy. Now you were the one worried about her reaction.

“How did you get it?” Dick asked excitedly, his nose glued to the glass, pawing it with his breath “I thought the Justice League couldn't get her body back from the Dimension of the Damned after she closed the portal to save us” he said, thinking aloud, while analysing the garment.

Up close, he could see the details of the fabric, the way the cloak had a texture and wasn't smooth as it seemed watching it from the television. It was as if magic was embedded in the fabric, and it moved even when she was still on the mannequin. The boy was fascinated, definitely marking this as the best day of his life.

“Well that's true. The League was unable to recover her body after she closed the portal” explained Bruce, as he hugged your waist, pressing his fingers against you at the memory of those events that still haunt him “But the suit is here for its protection, nothing more, it still belongs to its owner” Bruce finished, letting the boy think a little about his words.

“Wait,” Dick said, frowning and turning away from the video, to walk to the railing of the platform. And how do you have it, if she never left the Dimension of the Damned?” the boy frowned, thinking hard that how could it be that this was the original costume.

“It's more like early retirement than death” Dick jumped in place when you appeared next to him, speaking sweetly to him “But yes, the Scarlet Witch never made it out of the Dimension of the Damned” you explained to him, while you crouch in front of him, the boy turned to face you still confused by what he was saying “Dick, do you remember that we told you that we had to tell you a couple of things?” you asked him and the boy quickly nodded “Well first we wanted to tell you that Bruce is Batman, as you already deduced” you pointed to your husband on the lowest platform “And the other one is that I'm-” Before you could say more, Dick squealed with excitement again.

“YOU ARE THE SCARLET WITCH, HOLY FUCK!!” the boy yelled with his eyes as wide as his eyelids would allow.

“Language, Master Dick” Alfred scolded absently from below.

“OH-MY-GOD” The boy yelled again, looking at me as if you were hanging the stars from the sky, throwing himself on you, hugging you with his arms around your neck “I knew you weren't dead, I argued every day with my friends about this, it didn't make sense for YOU to die just like that, no amount of spawn could kill the Scarlet Witch, it's absurd-” The boy began to ramble as you picked him up in your arms, he hug your hips with his legs intuitively, and you walked down with him in your arms. Smiling softly at the boy's excitement, it was Bruce's turn to give you the Told you so look “This is the BEST day of my life” Dick finished his ramblings as you pulled up next to Bruce, with him still sitting on your hip, and proceeded to grab your husband's neck and hug you both tight. The pull made your husband laugh at the boy's sudden outburst. “My parents are the coolest people on the planet next to Superman, this is the best” the boy declared proudly, ignoring the surprised looks you and Bruce shared immediately after that.

It was the first time his parents had called you, and Dick didn't even think about it much longer, it came out of him so naturally that you two didn't say anything else either. You were mom after that and Bruce was dad, as if the boy had forgotten how to say his name from one moment to the next. And he did it with the greatest happiness in the world.

That night, after Bruce went out on patrol, and you dragged a still very excited Dick to bed, as you tucked him into bed, tucking the covers over him, your son's face suddenly scrunched up at a particular thought.

“What's up, Dikie?” you asked, as you ran your hand over her forehead, concerned at the sudden change in expression.

“Weren't Batman and the Scarlet Witch supposed to hate each other?” he asked you confused, looking down with his head tilted from his pillow.

You laughed, relieved and amused by the question.

“That, my boy, is a story for another day”

And that was it.

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ynscrazylife · 6 months

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THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.

His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.

“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.

“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”

He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.

Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.

“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”

He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.

And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.

Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.

“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.

The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.

Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .

Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.

He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.

Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.

When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.

Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.

Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.

While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.

You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.

Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.

It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.

“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.

“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.

It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.

He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.

They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.

“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.

“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.

The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.

#bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne angst #bruce x you #bruce x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #batfamily x reader #dc batman #batman fic #batman fluff #batmom #batmobile #avengers x reader #mcu avengers #dc marvel crossover

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naompspsps · 18 days

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How they would act when you fall asleep on their shoulder Pt. 4

Part 3 (Epel, Lilia & Malleus x Nb!Reader)

Summary: You had a long morning, and you didn't even get enough sleep so now you are very tired, But sitting with them in the courtyard during lunch break, while they talk you find yourself falling asleep, your head on their shoulder.

Ft. Trey, Jamil & Azul x Nb!Reader [Seperate] (+The leech twins mentioned but not in the short story)

Established Relationship with Trey so Trey calls you 'dove', Also Established Relationship with Jamil so uh,yeah. Azul has a huge crush on you so calls you dear when he's sure your asleep. Fluff<33

A/n: If Trey hums you to sleep you might aswell just stay awake for the 48 hours. Next!! Haha, I'm not joking about that. Anyways I have so many ideas in mind that i can't even organize a bit

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

Trey

Trey would most definitely care for you alot. He would let you sleep, Not even move once. If the bell rings, he might aswell just carry you to the infirmary to get some sleep there (He definitely made an excuse for you to sleep there) and he'll ask your classmates (if you aren't classmates w him) for any assignments.

A pure gentleman he is, he plans to go to you and bring you a bunch of sweets that he baked, and give you the list of assignments. Probably also volunteer to help you with your assignments. But yeah, he would let you rest that he would even carry you in the infirmary.

Trey is talking about baking again. You can't catch what he's saying, He's talking too quick. "[Name], dove, Are you okay?" He calls out, You turn your head to the side to look at him. "..Huh?.. Yeah.. 'm alright.." You answer. Trey can tell you are not alright. "Dove, What'd I say about lying?" He pulls you closer to take a closer look of your face. "..I'm not alright." You say. Sometimes your lying just works like when you lied to him about not taking a brownie but this day seems like a bad time to lie. "What's wrong?" He asks you, clearly worried.

You lightly trace your hand to his, holding it and leaning your head against his shoulder. "'m just tired, nothing serious.." It took a while for Trey to respond, He just stared at you for a few seconds, but you hear a light chuckle from him, holding your hand tightly. "Long day?" Trey asks. "..Mhm.. Yeah.." You mumble. "Alright, I won't waste your time anymore, I'll wake you up when the bell rings." He drags his lips against your head, kissing you softly. You close your eyes. "Sleep well, Dove."

Jamil

Jamil would know. But he would ask you and be all complany about it (but he's our lovely gordon ramsay boy.) Yet, He's still worried. You know who doesn't care about his scoldings? You. You're so tired you don't even care of what he says. Maybe you would care later, but right now.. No.

If you sleep on his shoulder, he'll start complaining but trust me if you say you'll just sleep with the bugs HE'S GONNA DRAG YOU BACK TO HIM BEFORE YOU EVEN GET THERE. We love our germaphobe boy<3

"[Name], You've been dozing off when I asked you to help me." Jamil points out. "Mhm.." You reply. "And when I asked you to get the salt, You took the black pepper!" He complains. "Mhm.." You repeat. He just goes on with the complaints but you repeat the same answer all over again, until he realized you've been doing that. "[Name], Are you even listening?!" You couldn't answer anymore, You rest your head on his shoulder. But the complains woke you up more. "And you're just gonna sleep? I'm not done yet!" You click your tongue. "..Alright.. I'll just sleep with the bugs." You rub your eye, Ready to stand up and leave to sleep someplace else.

But before you even stand on your feet, his arms wrap around you and pull you back down, The back of your head laying on his chest. You look up at him, "..You're red.." You point out. "I know! Just- Great Sevens.. Go sleep. I'll just keep the thoughts to myself." He hugs you tightly. You smile softly, it's too obvious that he doesn't want you to go It's so cute. "You can scold me later when I have enough energy to explain myself." You say, turning around to face him and wrapping your arms around his waist, getting ready to sleep once again. "Fine.. Don't get a nightmare.." As your eyes are shut, you chuckle before staying quiet and take a nap.

Azul

Azul can be a tease, sometimes. Learned two types of teasing from the Leech twins: Mocking and pity teasing. Which one would he use? Of course the pity teasing one. He can be smug too, but I doubt you would even care, you're too tired for his dingley dangley b-s.

But, He'll stop eventually. Continue reading the history book while you rest on him. Every once in a while he would always look at you to see if you're awake or uncomfortable. You aren't, by the way, It feels so nice sleeping on him you could stay like that forever.

Watching him read a history book is boring, He isn't even talking. You feel the tension grow. You yawn softly. "Exhausted now, Are we?" Azul says, fixing his glasses up and looking at you. "Mhm.." You nod, he hums and goes back to reading. You are so tired you weren't even thinking as you place your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. "You must be so tired, You poor unfortunate soul.." He whispers. "How strong is the stress? Someone like you, wouldn't be able to handle such thing.."

"Mm.." You answer quietly. Slowly drifting to sleep.. Azul stops talking. "You're so adorable." He mumbles under his breath. You didn't know what he said, but you're sure he said you were adorable. admiring? dearing? Either of those three, but those are all so far off from being called an insult. A short while of silence, as you completely rest. Azul flips through the pages, every 5 minutes he looks at you. "Still not uncomfortable?" He asks himself. "Must be enjoying sleeping on me, I wouldn't mind if you do it again, my dear."

Author's End Note: MY DEAR?!?!? MAIIIIII DEEEEER?!@;+:?!?!? OH GREAT SEVENS SOME1 GRAB A WHEELCHAIR I NEED THE INFIRMARY- NO. HOSPITAL. (literally going crazy over my own skit)

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #nb reader #trey clover x reader #trey clover #twst trey #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #twst jamil #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twst fluff

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zvaigzdelasas · 2 months

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Officials from the UK Foreign Office and the business department held an online meeting with British business leaders in November to encourage companies to take advantage of the “great opportunity” to support Azerbaijan president Ilham Aliyev’s rebuilding agenda.[...]

In the days after Baku’s military operations the UK government publicly condemned the Aliyev regime’s “unacceptable use of force” in Nagorno-Karabakh and warned that it had “put at risk efforts to find a lasting peaceful settlement” in the region.

But a recording of the online meeting, shared with the Guardian by campaigners at Global Witness, includes one senior UK government official encouraging business leaders to take advantage of the financial opportunities in the “huge western chunk of the country that needs to be rebuilt from the ground up”.

“The Azerbaijan government is supporting what it calls ‘the great return’, which is essentially providing the opportunity for the 700,000 [internally displaced people], these refugees, to basically return to Karabakh. So you have this great opportunity here actually,” the official said.

It is not clear whether the official was referring to Nagorno-Karabakh specifically, part of the far larger Karabakh region. Aliyev set out plans in 2020 to rebuild the “liberated districts” of the Karabakh region in western Azerbaijan, which includes Nagorno-Karabakh. The president said it was important that all displaced Azerbaijan citizens return to Nagorno-Karabakh and adjacent districts where they used to live.

A second government official told business leaders: “[There’s] a great opportunity here actually. [It was] just an empty land that was ready to be built over from scratch.”

Jonathan Noronha-Gant, a senior campaigner at Global Witness, said: “Behind closed doors, the UK government is calling Azerbaijan’s ethnic cleansing of Nagorno-Karabakh a ‘great opportunity’. What century are these officials living in? It’s not a great opportunity for the UK, nor for the people who were displaced.”

In the recording the first official said UK companies were “well-placed” to collaborate with the Azerbaijan government to provide infrastructure advice to “a government which has financial means given that it has very large energy resources”. Azerbaijan owns one of the world’s largest gasfields, Shah Deniz in the Caspian Sea, and is a growing exporter of gas to Europe.[...]

A UK government spokesperson said: “These comments from UK officials have been misrepresented. Discussions of reconstruction referred to the UK government’s public work to assist with possible future development in the new towns being built for those displaced by decades of conflict.

“The UK is not involved in commercial activity or reconstruction efforts in the area of Nagorno-Karabakh region recovered by Azerbaijan through its September 2023 military operation.[...]

The Guardian revealed last year that Azerbaijan’s share of two large oil and gas projects operated by British oil company BP had earned its government almost $35bn (£28.6bn), or more than four times its military spending since 2020 when war broke out in the disputed territory of Nagorno-Karabakh.[...]

BP also plans to build a 240MW solar farm in Azerbaijan’s “liberated lands”, according to Azerbaijan’s deputy energy minister. The Azerbaijani prime minister, Ali Asadov, met with the BP head of production, Gordon Birrell, recently to discuss the Sunrise solar project, which is planned for an area near the ghost city of Jabrayil, which was left in ruin after the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war.

22 Feb 24

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her-favorite · 9 months

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BEYOND THE PALE; J. VALESKA (TWO-FACED II)

JEROME VALESKA X F!DETECTIVE!READER

SERIES MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

WARNINGS: SMUT, dom!jerome, suggestive language, possessive!jerome, descriptions of blood/dead bodies/bullet wound, dirty talk, jerome calls reader “doll” an unnecessary amount of times (i couldnt stop), use of the word ‘panties’ (more than once, i apologize)

and SMUT!!

A/N: I am so incredibly sorry for how long this took to publish 😭 my motivation is always rocky so it takes awhile for me to actually want to write. but i always want to get things out for you guys, yet i dont want to rush it because when i do, the character never seems accurate and i want you guys to enjoy it!! So thank you so much for your patience, i love you all sm 🫶🏻

TAGS: @ssnapsaurus @projectdreamwalker @l3xiluve

WORD COUNT: 8961!! (4655 of it is smut..)

SUMMARY: From the first time you met Jerome Valeska, you knew him as the son of Lila Valeska, the murder case you and Detective Gordon were working on. You had grown close, until you found out the truth. Now you know him as an Arkham escapee:

A MANIAX

SUMMARY: You should’ve known you could never outrun Jerome Valeska. From being the Two-Faced killer you once knew to the infamous Maniax member, he never seemed to forget about you. Maybe this time he’ll show you how much he truly cares about you.. how much he truly..

LOVES YOU

“Hey, doll.”

Your blood runs cold when you hear his voice. It was like you were back in that interrogation room, questioning why he had done what he did. You felt, at that moment, like your heart truly did tear through your skin. You felt cemented to your spot, too terrified to move incase he’ll do something drastic.

A cold hand wraps around you, pressing his palm against your mouth. You knew better than to scream, a gut feeling that no one would’ve heard you anyway.. if anyone had even survived.

“I told you I’d be back for ya, doll!” His manic laugh rings through the silent room, raising goosebumps on your cold skin.

This wasn’t going to be good..

You woke up with a jump as you tried to even out your breathing. Figures faded into your vision as well as the setting. You squinted your eyes at the bright lighting as you try to adjust to the uncomfortable position you were in.

A wooden chair is perched on top of the two desks that sit on the space in front of the captain’s office. They were pushed together to become a stable holder for the piece of furniture. You try to move your arms and legs, only to struggle as you realize that you were strapped down. Your heartbeat races as your hands start to lightly shake, trying to quietly break out of the constricting rope.

Footsteps sound from several feet away, seeming to make their way to you. As you turn your head to look around and try to find who it was, the only sight you’re met with are the dead bodies that littered the once-clean floor. Pools of crimson blood soaked up their decaying corpses as seconds pass, making you immediately avert your eyes. All of your colleagues lie dead on the precinct floor as you sit on some sort of makeshift thrown, looking over everything.

The walking grows louder as it nears you, stepping up the small stairs that leads up to the desks. Your heart drops to your feet as you see ginger hair peek out through the police hat, tall legs quickly maneuvering over the bodies and sliding up towards you. He jumps up on the surface as all you see is the bottom half of his face, revealing his devilish smirk.

Quickly, he takes the hat and throws it. He stood excited as he looks at you, leaning down to take a bow. His head looks up at you from its position, sending you a wink and a smile.

“Miss me, doll?”

Jerome paces between each desk, one hand up to his chin as if he was thinking while the other is holding his elbow up. “Hm.. how do I get my doll to talk to me..” He keeps walking back and forth, fake pouting as he animatedly thinks. He stops abruptly and gasps, moving the hand from under his chin to point upwards. “I know!”

He smiles widely as he walks over to you and crouches down. You have to look down at him as he looks up at you innocently with a sweet smile on his face that felt like it could rot your teeth.

“I know how to get you to talk to me..” He stares into your eyes as his white teeth show in a sinister smile. His two fingers walk their way up the side of the chair and over to your strapped down wrist. He walks his pale pointer and middle finger over your hand as he begins talking again. “Remember that night in your kitchen?” He whispers, hoping to get a reaction out of you.

You freeze and your breath hitches in your throat. You try to not give him a reaction, but he’s already read you. Jerome smirks wide, resting an elbow on his knee and puts his head on his fist, looking up dreamily at you.

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since it happened.” He sends you teasing smile as he keeps talking, knowing that soon enough you’ll break. “The thought of your pretty lips touching mine was something I craved until now. I always wondered how pretty you’d look laying back on that counter, moaning and writhing for me. Begging me to fu-“

“Stop!”

Jerome smiles wide, a sinister curve of his lips reaching his ears. He perks up at your outburst, happy to see where it would lead. “I think I pushed all the right buttons.” He teases. He moves up from his crouched position and folds his hands behind his back. He stood tall in front of you again, looking up at him to make eye contact. He seemed to like the advantage he had at the moment, smiling down at you with pride.

“So, Y/N..” He leans forward quickly, still standing but bending his face towards yours. He was just inches away from you now, goosebumps prickling your skin. “Have you thought about me too?” Jerome whispers, staring down at your lips, waiting for you to answer him. When you don’t, he looks back up at your eyes. An overpowering emotion overrides you as your eye contact is made again, your breath hitching in your throat. His smirk forms again as he keeps talking. “I think you have..” His voice is as low as a whisper, only just grazing your ears.

“I think you’ve spent so many nights ready for me. Lying on your bed and thinking about me.. about the things I could do to you.” Jerome inches forward, moving to whisper into your ear. A shiver passes through your body as he gets closer, just inches away from his lips touching it. “I bet you sit there as soon as it hits midnight with your hands down your cute panties, dripping with the thought of me fucking you so good.” He bit your earlobe lightly, dragging his teeth across it until it fell from his mouth.

Heat traveled down your body from his words, your eyes subconsciously closing. The closer his body got towards you made you more anxious than you were just seconds before.

He moved back slightly with the same grin as before, it never faltering once. His hands gravitated towards the arms of your chair over time, it just now dawning on you. As he moves his face in front of you again, he opens his mouth, ready to speak. Before he could, you spit forward, landing directly on his tongue.

He flinched backwards, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, tasting and swallowing the saliva. His eyebrows furrow and he stares down at the ground, a conflicted look on his face.

He hums, “That was strangely pleasant.. Do it again.” Jerome quickly inches forward towards your face again with a sly smirk on his mouth. Without thinking, you throw your head directly im front of you, clashing it with his nose. He groans loudly as his head shoots back in pain. It sends a certain kind of electricity through your body, hitting straight down to your core.

He rises back up with a hysteric laugh and gushes of blood dripping from his nose. His body towers over you as he stands up straight, but quickly leaning down to your face. He grabs your chin roughly and pulls you towards his face.

“C’mon, doll. Don’t get hasty with me.” He says sternly, but there’s an underlying playful tone to his voice. He hasn’t let go of your chin as he glares at you. Seconds pass by until he finally tears his chilling gaze away from your eyes, down to your strapped down arms and legs. “Hm,” He hums and stands back up straight. He lets go of your chin forcefully, jostling your head lightly. He looks your body over once then meets your angry eyes. “You like bein’ tied up, doll?” He teases with a smile.

You huff and roll your eyes, looking away from him to try and search if there was someone else still alive that could help you. As your eyes scan over the cold floor littered with lifeless bodies, none of them were breathing. Your jaw clenches as you watch the gushing blood stream out of their once washed shirts, staining the polished ground.

“Hey, up here.” Jerome snaps his fingers and grabs your chin again. You sigh irritably and glare up at him. “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to ya, doll face.” He says sternly, lightly tapping your chin with his thumb. When he lets go, he turns around and looks around for something. You sit still, curious as to what the redhead was searching for.

Chills overrun your body when another man walks out from a shadow in the corner of the precinct. Robert Greenwood, ate a dozen women, Jim’s words made a shiver run down your spine. He always freaked you out.

“Here, bring that up here. Get a better angle of the room.” Jerome calls out to Greenwood. The older man was carrying a camera on his shoulder as he walks forward, climbing up on the desks next to Jerome.

The redhead walks towards you again as Greenwood films and zooms in on all of the dead bodies covering the floor. Once he gets close enough, Jerome smiles down at you. “Doesn’t my doll look so pretty?” He reaches down and lifts your chin up to look at him in the eye. He wasn’t necessarily asking anyone, or rather Greenwood, the question, more so just to put it out in the open. So when the other man growls inhumanely and nods in agreement, Jerome’s head snaps back to where the man holding the camera stood.

He took a deep breath before closing his eyes, trying to calm himself. He didn’t plan on killing Greenwood, at least not yet. So he swallowed the harsh words he was going to yell and looked back at you when he opened his eyes again.

He leans down towards you, “I bet you’d look even prettier if I used this ropes on you a different way, hm?” He whispers, just inches away from your face. You can feel his breath on you as he talks, almost like you could feel how truthful his words were. “I knew you’d like these, Y/N. I picked them out for you.” He smiles. “I know you’ve got somethin’ hidin’ in that cute head of yours. I wonder if I’ll figure it out later.” He teases, his voice just barely there.

“I’d like to see that.” Jerome snaps up and looks over towards Greenwood. His facial expression was an emotion that was stronger than anger. It held power as he glared down at the man just a few feet away, making the older man’s smile disappear. His camera had been facing the two of you, watching the interaction.

Jerome walks slowly towards him, each step that was hitting the clean desk intimidating the both of you further. His calm demeanor was threatening as he grows closer to the other. Once he stands just inches away from Greenwood, he looks down at him with a neutral expression.

“If you ever say anything about my doll again.. you won’t even have the time to think with that tiny brain of yours. Y’wanna know why?” Jerome’s voice is serious as he glares into his eyes, making the other man shake lightly. Greenwood didn’t respond, too nervous to generate a reply. “Because you’ll be dead.”

BANG!

You flinch as you hear a gunshot go off, shutting your eyes tightly. You hear a body hit the floor roughly and you open your eyes to see Greenwood lying lifeless on the floor next to you. A gaping hole on the side of his head runs red with blood, dripping down his face to the once-polished desk. Your hands shake as you watch him grow cold, not being able to tear your fear-filled eyes away from him. The camera landed next to him, the red button still flashing as it never stopped recording.

“Sorry, baby, he was getting on my nerves.” Jerome shrugs and walks back over to you. The gun is still in his hands as he gets closer to you, crimson blood splattered across his face, matching with his bloody nose. A couple red dots stain his blue button up, hitting the collar of his shirt. He throws the gun out of his hand and onto the floor, coincidentally landing just inches away from the new dead body next to you.

“How ‘bout we get outta here, huh?” Jerome suggests. As nice as it sounded to get out of the now-morgue that was once the GCPD, it wasn’t like you had a choice either way. He puts his hands on his hips and thinks for a moment. You could tell when he stared down at the floor, looking towards Greenwood’s body.

“Ooo!” He shouts with a wide smile and leans down to grab the camera. The red button never stops flashing as time goes by, having the past, what feels like hours, all on film.

He manhandles it as the camera glitches slightly. He picks it up and points it towards his face. “Hello Gotham City! We’re the Maniax! And I’m Jerome, the.. shot-caller of our little gang.”

Jerome speaks to the camera with the same energy. He never seems to have a calm or ‘normal’ side to him, no matter if he’s in front of a camera or you. There’s only one side to him now.

Guess he isn’t two-faced anymore.

“We’re here to spread wisdom and hope!” Jerome carries on with his dramatics. He sways his head side to side while he talks, showing his enthusiasm. When he hears a slight moan from the side of him, he looks over to see a random police officer lying in pain. As he groans in pain, hoping to get some sort of attention for help, the ginger takes the gun that rested beside Greenwood and shot him. You flinch again, not because of the gunshot, but you saw that Jerome had zero hesitation to shoot the corpse. What if he does that to you?

“Some people have no manners.” He shook his head and looked at the camera disappointedly. Suddenly, he forcefully grabs it and brings it near his face quickly. “You’re all prisoners. What you call sanity.. it’s just a prison in your mind that stops you from seeing that you’re just tiny little cogs in a giant absurd machine.” He waves his hand behind him to add theatrics. You felt his energy reverberate throughout the vast room, eccentric flare capturing you attention.

“Wake up!” He screams, pulling the lens closer to him again. “Why be a cog? Be free! Like us! Just remember, smile!” He laughs, then goes serious once he realizes something. His head snaps toward you, blinking once. “Oh!” He clicks his tongue and starts walking in your direction. “Hey, Jimbo..” He says teasingly into the camera. “I’ve got my doll here with me, too.” He points the lens down towards you. It recorded you strapped down to the wooden chair, but with no sign of bruises or cuts. Jim will know, you thought. “How are you, doll face? You doin’ okay?” He smiles behind the camera, watching you through the lens. You nod, knowing that the opposite reaction wouldn’t help either of you. “Goodie!” He smiles and laughs. Bringing the camera back to him, his ears perk up at the sound of sirens outside.

“Well, time to go!” Jerome smiles wide and grabs the hat that sat beside Greenwood’s dead body. He put it on his head, making sure it was secure. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back very soon. Hang on to your hats, folks! ‘Cause you ain’t seen nothing yet!” He laughed hysterically into the camera and then shuts it off. His devilish smile never left his face as he struts up towards you again.

“Hmm.. we’re gonna have to figure this out quick, doll face.” He puts a finger to his chin, tapping lightly. His movements always seemed animated, almost like he was in a cartoon. As he stood there and became deep in thought, he managed to crouch back down to your level. “I’m gonna untie these ropes, doll. But you can’t run away and grab mommy and daddy.” His voice was low, almost in a disciplinary way. It shut you up fast, making goosebumps rise on your skin and your body grow tense. He leans forward to start untying the knots on your wrists. “You’re gonna follow me like a good girl and maybe..” He shrugs with a growing smirk on his face. “We’ll get to have some fun.”

His words put you in a trance as he speaks, a shiver passing down your spine lightly. You swallow the lump in your throat, not because you felt scared, but because of.. how attracted you felt to him right now.

“How does that sound, doll?” He smiles as he unties the last rope on your right ankle and stands back up. You dumbly nod, too focused on the way he looked at the moment. He stood tall in front of you, his long legs filling your vision from the position on the chair. You’ve come to like the sinister smile on his face, though it may give you the chills some times. His ginger hair grew brighter in the fluorescent lighting of the GCPD, showcasing the vibrant orange hue.

“Good.” He offers his hand out towards you politely. His menacing smile intimates you as he teases you gently.

“Care to join me for a walk, m’lady?”

Stepping foot into Theo Galavan’s house wasn’t exactly apart of your schedule today.

Walking down sidewalks and hiding in alleys on the way, wasn’t either. It was tricky trying to avoid the cops or other strangers passing by, given that you both wore GCPD uniforms and frankly, Jerome’s hair wasn’t very common in Gotham.

He made you hold his hand all the way back, saying that he ‘didn’t want to lose you.’ You weren’t sure which way to take the sentence, especially if it’s being said by a homicidal maniac. He’d squeeze your hand if someone ever got too close to you or if he heard any type of siren. He kept you close to him all the way back, either to soothe your worries or his. You weren’t sure.

“C’mon, doll face. Make yourself at home.” You’re cut out of your thoughts when you hear his energetic voice again. He smiles at you and walks towards the table in the main room. He picks at some grapes that were on display in a bowl, tearing them off the stem and throwing them up in the air and catching them in his mouth expertly.

You hesitantly wander the room, walking by the tall windows. You stop in front of one and look outside, noticing all of the police cars surrounding the precinct. Pedestrians walk to and fro, some on the phone, others talking to each other and others arguing. Seeing everything from this point of view, you noticed how sad everything looked. It was grey outside; no sun, only clouds. Smoke rose from factories into the air and sirens could be heard from anywhere in the city.

“What’cha lookin’ at, cutie?” Jerome’s voice slices the tense moment with yourself. For once, you were grateful to hear his loud tone. The blood on his face was washed off by now, the sink getting turned off just seconds before he walked over to you.

You shrug, “Outside.” You’ve learned that trying to meet Jerome’s personality level was hard, but it was worth it. To lash out or try to run away, wouldn’t be of any help. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up wanting to stay..?

He hums from behind you, slowly moving closer to you. He stood inches away from your backside, his eyes wandering the streets as well. He leans down slightly and whispers in your ear. “You seem tense, doll.” You shiver as his words pass by you and his hands start to creep up your shoulders. “What’s got you so cramped up, babydoll?” He gently massages your shoulders, hitting the perfect spots. You hold back soft moans in your throat, but your eyes flutter close against your will. He seems fine with not getting an answer.

“You like that?” It didn’t seem to be in a teasing manner, but a genuine question. You nod gently, too afraid to move too much incase he stopped. “Good.” You could almost hear the smirk on his face as he replied, inching just a little bit closer to you again.

“Y’know, when I first saw you at the circus that day,” Jerome speaks again. You had no problem listening to him as he kept touching your tense shoulders. His voice was kind of soothing. “I thought you were the prettiest little doll I’ve ever seen. I always looked at that place as some sort of hellhole, where nothing good comes out of it. But you..” He giggles. “You, doll face.. you’re somethin’ else.” He whispers and kisses your ear gently before sliding his hands down your arms. Your breathing picks up as he gets as close as possible to you now, pressing his front up against your back.

His hands mold into yours calmly, taking his time with you. He takes a whiff of your neck, your faded perfume hitting his nose. He groans softly and rests his forehead against your shoulder. He plays with your fingers without looking at them. When he lifts his head again, he leans forward and presses soft kisses to your neck.

“Let me continue. Please.” He whispers into your skin. It was almost like a plea, on the verge of begging. Your heart skips a beat and you nod eagerly, immediately falling into his touch.

He groans into your skin and grips your hips, roughly pulling you back into him. You gasp when he tugs you backwards, your head falling back on his chest. His nails dig into your hips, through the fabric of your uniform pants. His kisses on your neck never relent as he glides his left hand up your body to put under your chin. His hand cups the underside of your jaw to tilt your head away to give him more access to your neck.

Once he bites down on your skin, you flinch in surprise but you grow to like the feeling. You feel Jerome’s smirk against your sensitive skin, definitely leaving a deep mark on it. His lips hover over different spots until they lock on a certain one. When you moan gently, he smiles widely and sucks down on your skin. Your breathing gets heavy as he takes his time with your body, closing your eyes in content.

“Lets see what other noises I can get outta ya, hm?” He moves his hands away from your hip and chin, inching towards your chest. He keeps his face close to yours, as his hands unbutton a few of the top on your police shirt. You moan when he unexpectedly grabs your breasts and squeezes; not enough to hurt, but enough to make you yearn for more. Your mouth stays open in silent pleasure, still shocked at his sudden movement.

“Ooo, doll. You like me bein’ rough with ya?” Jerome smirks with a quiet laugh. “I’m not surprised. I saw the way you eyed me earlier when I untied you. I wonder what you were thinking.. hm..” He pretends to think as he gripped your boobs again, bunching up your shirt. You moan again, each surprise advance towards you shocked you. “Maybe you were wondering what it’d be like if I fucked ya, hm? Or maybe.. when I have you on your knees for me? No, no.. maybe.. when I’ll have ya beggin’ for me to touch you and play with your pretty little pussy.” Shivers go up and down your spine as electricity shoots down your body, straight to your core.

“Fuck, Jerome..” His words had an affect on you that he was very aware of. His lips curl up, forming that signature smile of his. He liked the sound of his name on your tongue, the pleading tone of your voice making his heart beat faster. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could tease you before he could touch you properly.

His right hand moves down your body quickly, straight to the waist of your pants. Without a second thought, it glides past it and feels the fabric of your underwear. He reaches down to cup it before stroking his two fingers against you. A whine erupts from your throat before you could stop it. He smirks when he feels the wet patch form under his fingers. “Already soaking. I wonder who got you this wet?” Jerome’s voice is cocky and he smiles with pride.

His fingers slip past your underwear and he immediately runs two fingers down your slit, gathering your wetness on the pads of his fingertips. He groans at the feeling and pulls his hand out of your pants, ignoring the huff that came out of your mouth. Pushing his fingers past his pink lips, sucking on the taste of you that was left on him. He moans and takes his fingers out of his mouth and puts it back on your stomach to rest there.

“Fuck, doll. I knew you’d taste good, but never in my dreams have you tasted like this.” He admits, looking down at you. Your body felt hot, whether it was from his contact or his words, it didn’t matter anymore.

Fuck, you needed him. You needed his stupid red hair, and his stupid pink lips, and his stupid body. You needed Jerome Valeska.

“Please, Jerome,” You would never go as low to beg or plead, but right now, in this moment, you felt like you could. Your head was still resting against his chest, looking up at him submissively.

He chuckles and puts his hand up to cup your jaw. “Mm, c’mon, babydoll. Let’s go up to my room. Don’t need anyone seein’ what’s mine.” He leans down and kisses you passionately, before breaking away with a teasing smirk. He grabs your hand and runs for the stairs.

Once you both make it up there, he leads you to his room and opens the door. When you walk in, you barely have time to look around until Jerome connects your lips together. He sucks on your bottom lip before licking it, wanting permission to kiss you deeper. When you playfully deny it and not open your mouth, he bites down on the soft flesh making you gasp. Automatically, your lips part and his tongue invades the space in your mouth. You don’t realize when his hand reaches up to your hair and cups the back of your head to get you as close as possible to him. He tugs your hair with force, making you pull away from the kiss. A moan escapes your throat at the sudden pressure, looking up at him, silently questioning him.

He stays quiet as he slowly lets his tight grip go. The same hand trails its way towards your jaw and lays there. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, dragging it down gently. His green eyes never leave your lips, too entranced with the way you look right now. You looked vulnerable, powerless and Jerome loved it. It was like a predator with it’s prey, stalking it down and putting it in danger. He liked the chase.

“You look so pretty like this. So vulnerable, just for me.” Suddenly, he grabs your chin and leans down to become inches away from your face. “Lay down on the bed. I told you we were gonna have some fun.” He smiles insanely and giggles. Chills erupt on your body, but as soon as he lets go of you, you immediately rush to the bed next to you.

“Y’wearin’ too much.” He grumbles and walks over to the foot of the bed. His hands reach out for your shirt, wrinkling it under his hands. You gasp when you hear a rip course through the air, seeing tiny buttons fly away. Your shirt tears in half and he throws it across the room, somewhere he couldn’t care to look right now.

Before you could say anything, he begins talking again. “Much better.” He smiles and teases his fingers around your waist, fiddling with the top of your pants. His finger hooks in it and stretches it, smirking when it slips off his finger and slapping back down on your skin. You grow impatient as he teases you, your body starting to ache for him.

“Jerome,” You were quickly cut off by him.

“Patience, Y/N.” His voice was stern as he looked into your eyes, intimidating you. Jerome didn’t even have to say the words and he would still make you nervous; the cold stare of the psychopath sending chills down your spine. You nod obediently, knowing better than to say anything.

Once he looks away from your eyes, his fingers resume walking around your pants waistline. Quickly, he hooks two fingers on either side and pulls them down. Cold air hits your skin fast, making you shiver. Jerome smiles at your reaction. He takes them fully off and throws them in the same direction as your shirt. You lie in front of him in nothing else than a bra and underwear. You felt bare in front of him, scared or unsafe. He was right, you were vulnerable in front of him, you thought to yourself.

“Relax, doll. Let me feel you.” His rough hands slide up your legs, feeling every mark or blemish under his fingertips. His hand dips with your hips and thighs, squeezing the skin. A whine emits from your throat as his nails dig into your skin dangerously. They scratch down your legs, leaving hot red lines after his torture on your body. You feel the pain sting you, but it felt good. You felt like you needed it.

“Such a naughty girl.. liking me hurt you.” His voice is taunting and playful, excited for whatever was to come next. “I bet you’re even wetter for me.” He leans down and starts kissing around your stomach, slowly trailing down. “Fuck, doll. You’re soaking your panties.” He says breathlessly, never bringing his head up to stop kissing you. He makes his way down to your thighs, occasionally sucking and biting on the sensitive flesh. He smirks when he feels your breath get stuck in your throat when he gently kisses over the top of your underwear that was covering your slit.

Pale hands glide up your thighs and towards your hips, moving them under the hem of your underwear. Before he pulls then down fully, he looks back at you and smiles, “Told ya you had cute panties.”

Your chest rises and falls faster than before as you lay before him, completely bare. You were utterly helpless in this situation and you kind of liked it. Jerome had a sense of power of you, whether it was because of his intimidating personality or because of the utter sexual magnitude he has.

He groans when he takes them off and immediately spreads your legs further. “Look at you, my little dolly. So beautiful.. all for me.” It almost seemed like he was reassuring himself that. You and your body now belonged to the insane psychopath that has murdered several people. Anyone with a brain would realize how wrong this was; how disturbed you should be, having a maniac like Jerome Valeska between your legs. But in that moment, you didn’t care. You needed him, craved him.

“Always wanted to taste ya..” He lifts your leg up to position your foot on the bed and have your knees bent. He leans forward and lightly presses his lips against certain areas on your thigh, his devilish smile never leaving his pretty face. “Thought about it every night at Arkham. Dreamt about it. Thought about how pretty you looked in your dining room.. the way I could’ve bent you over the countertop and fucked the life outta ya.” He giggles against your skin, now just inches away from where you desperately needed him. “And as good as this is gonna feel, doll face.. I can’t wait to have you on your knees for me later.”

A loud gasp reverberates through the room as he licks up your slit, tasting all of you. He groans and wraps his arms under your thighs to pull you closer to him. He never eases up on you as he eats you out with fervor. Short fingernails mark the skin on your thighs, showing everyone who you belonged to.

This is wrong. All of this is wrong. But every part of your body was screaming that it was right. You’ve never felt like this with anyone before; the insatiable need to feel him and have him feel you. It didn’t seem like the feeling would ever stop, even while he tastes you.

Unwrapping one arm from under your thigh, his right hand moves forward and starts to rub your clit. Moans and gasps fill the room entirely, a beautiful melody in Jerome’s ears. His two fingers move down, teasing you before pushing them inside you. Clenching the bedsheet in your hand so aggressively, it felt like your knuckles were going to break. It was hard trying not to inflate his ego, but the sensations he was making you feel right now were more than you could handle.

“That feel good, baby?” Even though he was still between your legs, his voice was still loud. His signature smile never left his face, too excited to change. You nod quickly, too entranced to produce any words. He hums and tickles the skin around your thigh with kisses, while still fingering you. His red hair was bright against your skin, standing out to anyone that were to look inside the room.

Curling his fingers perfectly, they hit a certain spot inside you that made your legs twitch in pleasure. A choked out moan leaves your mouth, one of your hands that was clutching the sheet moving to his long hair. You tug on it, making him groan.

“Fuck,” Jerome’s voice was breathless, too busy to talk. He bit down on the inside of your thigh, before moving back to your clit. As his fingers move faster inside you, his lips wrap around your clit and sucks lightly.

“Jerome, I’m..” No words were comprehensible in your mind, too busy on the pleasure you were feeling. The sensation went to your head quickly, the only thing on your mind being Jerome, Jerome, Jerome.

“Mm, c’mon, doll.” His lips were wet and he looked up at you with hooded eyes and his crazy smile. If you were to just see his eyes, they would’ve been threatening, and they still are with his whole face. But something about his predatory look was so attractive. “You close?” His tone was teasing, but you were too far gone to care.

Nodding quickly was your response, your back arching slightly at Jerome’s pace. Before you realized it, he stopped. Pulling out his fingers and taking his mouth away with a smirk on his face.

“What..? Jerome,” You lean up on your elbows, trying to get a better look at him. He stands back up against the end of the bed, bringing his two used fingers to his mouth. He puts them in and sucks on them before pulling them out and wiping the corner of his mouth. A shiver went down your spine at his little show, swallowing dryly. “Why did you stop?”

Before he answered, he reaches over to start unbuttoning his shirt. Discarding it somewhere else in the room, neither of you caring where it landed. Your eyes raked over his body; his broad shoulders standing strongly, his muscles moving every time he would, his abs tightening at the cold air. He looked like he was sculpted by a god, his body mesmerizing you.

“I told you, Y/N.” He leans over you, resting his hands against the bed by your body. His face was inches away from yours, his eyes boring into yours. They were scary, almost like they were threatening you. “As good as that was gonna feel, I’m gonna have you on your knees for me.” He whispered.

Suddenly, he grabs your hands and pulls you up to him. Yelping when you land on your feet, standing in front of him, his hands securing themselves around your waist. He brings you close to him, pressing his body against yours. “You ready for me, doll face?” He whispers again, leaning down towards your ear. One of his hands slides down your leg and grips the back or your thigh.

You nod, not wanting to upset him. His wide smile was disturbing in a way that you started to get used to it.. maybe even started to like it.

“Good. Because you weren’t gonna have a choice either way.” Pushing you down onto your knees with forceful hands, your legs already starting to bruise from the harsh treatment. Gasping at his aggression, but not too shocked by it. One freckled-covered hand moves for his belt, undoing it as his other rests on the back of your head. The loud noises of his belt clinking in front of you filled the room, noticing that it was better than the silence that seemed even louder.

Unzipping his fly and letting his belt and pants lie there, his hand never leaving the back of your head. “C’mon. I shouldn’t have to tell you what to do.” His voice filled your ears, already eating at your actions. Not wanting to disappoint him, you quickly reach out for his pants and pull them down with his boxers. Swallowing dryly when you see all of him, worried you weren’t going to be able to take it all.

“What, are you scared?” Jerome’s voice cut you out of your daze, immediately looking up at him. His voice was condescending, starting to get to your brain. “You can take it, don’t worry, baby.” He brushes a hand through your hair gently, before gripping it tightly making you gasp. With your mouth open, he moves forward and slides into your mouth. Choking immediately, he smirks and stands still for a moment. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, he pouts mockingly before giving in and pulling back slightly. He lets you start moving against him, starting off slow. You take your time in the beginning, never looking away from his eyes. He likes the eye contact you keep with him, still holding a harsh grip on your hair.

Getting annoying with your pace, he starts to move his hips forward, clashing with your movements. Reaching out to stabilize yourself, your hands landing on his thighs and your nails digging into his skin painfully. He groans at the sting, starting to throat fuck you harder, not paying attention to the tears that form in your eyes. His head hits the back of your throat aggressively, his hand holding you still starting to burn your scalp. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

Jerome’s eyes shut tight and he throws his head back in pleasure. His abs clenched as he kept moving, his bicep on his right arm that held you, bulging with how much strength he was using on you. It felt like he was going to pull out strands of your hair, but at this point, it didn’t even matter.

“Can you take it, huh?” Jerome’s raspy voice cut through the air, teasing you. He looked back down at you, watching a tear fall down your cheek. He groans and uses his other hand to wipe it with his thumb and bring it up to his lips to lick it. His hips never relent their abuse on your mouth, too caught up in the pleasure to realize the way he bruised the back of your throat.

Catching him by surprise when you hollow your cheeks around him, his hips stutter and he moans louder than before. “Fuck, Y/N.” His voice is breathless and it raises goosebumps on your body. “Takin’ it like the good girl you are.” His eyes lock onto yours, still moving his hips the same pace as before. When his hand manages to grip your hair even harder and his hips occasionally bucking every now and then, it signaled to you that he was close.

As much as you wanted to pull away to not give him what he wanted because of his what he did to you earlier, he wouldn’t let you move. Stilling inside your mouth as he shakes lightly, he reaches his limit and releases on your tongue. Moaning your name as he calms down, he starts to move out of your mouth. Your throat is scratchy and dry once he forces you to swallow. Your breathing was heavy as your chest rose and fell quickly, looking up at him from your knees.

His smirks widens, laughing softly while looking down at you. His hand loosens his grip and your scalp felt like it could breathe again. Slowly, he strokes your hair and moves his hand under your chin. He holds it gently, keeping you in place. “C’mere, baby.” Jerome puts his hands under your arms and brings you to your feet. Your knees are bruised badly, having to reach out to hold onto his arms tightly before your legs buckled underneath you. He laughs, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist. “You look so good, doll.” His right hand causes goosebumps in its wake as it travels up your body, sliding between your breasts and up to your neck. It rests there for a little while before starting to wrap around your throat. Your mouth opens subconsciously, giving him perfect access to run his pointer and middle finger across your bottom lip.

Your lips were swollen at this point, your mouth being molded to the shape of him. He smiles when you open your mouth just slightly wider, letting his fingers rest on your tongue. You suck on them and hollow your cheeks, watching his adams apple bob lightly. Once he pulls them out, he never takes them away and glides down your bottom lip, coating it in your spit. Bringing up his thumb, he drags the same lip down as he leans forward and meets your tongue with his. Kissing you with only the amount of passion that you weren’t sure you could even handle, sending sparks along your skin. Your hand moves behind his head, trying to push him closer to you and holding onto his hair tightly. He groans into the the mesh of lips and kisses you deeper, his hand around your throat starting to get tighter.

When he pulls away, you grab an intake of air, out of breath from the kiss and Jerome’s hand choking you. He chuckles, squeezing your throat once before letting go. His hand moves up to the back of your head and gently grabs your hair again. You sharply inhale at the pull as Jerome gets closer to you. He leans forward and whispers in your ear, “Get on the bed.” As soon as he lets you go, you follow his orders and lay back on the soft mattress. He mirrors your actions and leans his body over yours, resting his forearms beside your head. Without hesitation, he moves forward and kissed you harshly.

While you were distracted, you didn’t realize one of his hands trailing down your body. Goosebumps rise on your arms when you feel his fingers run through your folds gently. “You want it so bad, huh?” His voice is quiet against your lips, staring into your eyes. They were cold, but still had a flash of fun in them. You nodded eagerly, waiting for any sort of relief that he would give to you. “Still so wet for me.. you’re such a good girl, ya know that? Listen to me so well..” Adding more force to his fingers, your body freezing at the pressure as more heavy exhales escape your slightly parted lips. He smiles and chuckles breathlessly.

Take your hips in his hands suddenly, he grips you tight enough to leave marks as he flips himself over and sits you on his lap. You yell at the fast movement, too caught up in the way his fingers felt to realize his motive.

“Bet ya weren’t expectin’ that, were ya, doll face?” He cackles and grips your thighs strongly. You blush at his words, embarrassed having the scream escape your lips seconds ago. He raises you up your knees by moving your hips up with just enough force, your hands immediately going out to rest on his chest to hold yourself. He smiles the same smile he has been, only wider. “C’mon, you wanted it, didn’t ya?” He smacks your thigh, his dominance never leaving no matter his position.

You nod, not being able to form any words. He hums and smiles, waiting for your next move. You look down and line yourself up with him, slowly starting to sink down. He groans at the feeling as you moan from the stretch, sitting still for a moment to get used to it. “Hurry up, doll. Don’t keep me waiting.” His voice was slightly breathless, smacking your thigh again. The pleasure was getting to him as well as you started to slowly move on him. It was hard to do so, your knees still violently bruised from just minutes before.

“What, can’t do it? I thought you wanted it so badly.” His condescending tone makes you whine in embarrassment, your nails digging into the pale skin of his chest. Harsh red crescent-moon shapes painted his body, brightly contrasted with his white skin. It almost matched with his hair.

“Such a needy girl, having to make me do everything for you.” Jerome sighs and moves your hips up to pull out of you and flips your positions back over again. With you laying underneath him now and him above you, he quickly thrusts back inside you, making you cry out. He smiles widely at the noise, quickly moving his hips against yours again. He groans and never stops his pace, encouraged by your state of pleasure. You grip onto his back as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer to you. One of his hands rushes down to your thigh, holding it tightly against him.

“Fuck, doll,” His voice shakes slightly as he moans, his headboard hitting the wall behind it aggressively. The sound only spurs him on more, wanting the whole world to know what the two of you were doing. He knew this was wrong, to sleep with the enemy, but every part of his body was telling him it was all he ever needed. He would’ve done anything for you in that moment, feeling more vulnerable than he’s ever had been before. He also knew that if anyone at the GCPD were to find out about this, your job was absolutely done for. But maybe that was a good thing for him, maybe he wanted that so he can keep you to himself.

“Need you to cum, baby.” Jerome whispers in your ear, his groans filling up your hearing. The sound of skin slapping skin interrupted the once silent room, mixing with the severe clashing of the headboard to the wall.

His pace and words bring you to your edge quickly, your body almost failing when the hand that was once on your thigh, inching forward to circle your clit. Moaning loudly, your nails scratch his back, leaving dark red lines in contrast to his pale skin. He responds to the delicious pain, moaning louder in your ear. Signaling to him that you were close, he thrusts faster and harder inside you. As you arch your back in pleasure, his head leans forward and rests on your shoulder. His eyes are squeezed shut in satisfaction, his mouth open in a silent plea of arousal.

“Jerome, I..” Words weren’t put together in your mind, the only thing fogging it up was the man on top of you. He hums and nods quickly, applying more pressure on your clit.

“You’re so close, doll, I can feel it.” He bites your shoulder hard before moving up and whispering in your ear again. “C’mon, I wanna see you come. I bet you look so pretty- fuck. Squeezing me so tight. You feel so good, baby.” He rambles on, opening his eyes to watch your face. Your body starts to shake as your pent up pleasure releases and you follow his orders. He smiles while he watches you, his abs constricting as he gets closer as well. Your eyes start to close tightly, before he moves against you in a particularly hard thrust. “Look at me while you come.” He demands, and you follow through immediately.

You start to grow sensitive as he keeps moving, abruptly stopping when he reaches his peak just seconds after yours. Groaning loudly in your ear, your body shivers at the overpowering noise and he starts to calm down. Both of your chests were breathing fast as you relax from the intense feelings. Once Jerome finds the energy, he pulls out of you and falls down beside you on his bed.

“Fuck, if I knew you were that good in bed, I would’a broke out sooner.” He jokes and laughs once your reach over and slap his chest. “I’m just kiddin’, doll!” His tough arms wrap around your shoulders and bring you close to him. You both lie on each other, still trying to figure out what just happened. He inhales quickly as he starts to play with your messy hair, showing you that he was debating on talking or not.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your voice still scratchy.

He purses his lips and opens his mouth, internally question whether it would be a good idea or not to tell you. Finally, he makes a snap decision and gives in. “Y’know, when I was in Arkham.. I wrote about’cha in my diary.” He reveals, a soft red tint covering his pale cheeks. He immediately regretted it once he sees a teasing smile form on your face. He rolls his eyes and looks away from you.

“Jerome Valeska has a diary?” You smile and laugh softly, sitting up slightly. He groans with annoyance, unwrapping his arms around you. You grab his chin gently and make him look over at you. “Don’t be embarrassed,” You laugh. “I think it’s cute.” You shrug. Laughing more when he groans again, knowing you were pushing his buttons.

“Shut up, doll face.” He wrestles you over back into a position where you were underneath him again as he hovered over you. “Y’wanna know what else is in there?” Your breath hitches slightly as his voice drops down deeper. “Plans to take over Gotham. I’m gonna run this city, whether anyone likes it or not.” He leans over and whispers in your ear with a threatening voice, making a shiver go down your spine and chills raise on your body. “First, I’m gonna kill Bruce Wayne. And then, I’m gonna go and find my pathetic brother, put him on the tallest building in Gotham City and watch him fall down each floor until his lifeless body hits the ground.” His smile never leaves his face as he talks, showing you that he was excited for his plans. A lump forms in your throat as he speaks, your situation only coming to light now. “And I’d love for you to join me, doll.” He continues. “But that’s a conversation for another day.” He shrugs and gets up, his positive mood already resurfacing. He bends over and grabs his boxers and puts them on. “Why don’t we go see what Jimbo is doin’, huh? I bet he’s freaking out, knowing that I have little ol’ you with me.” Jerome laughs hysterically, throwing his head back.

Realization hits you like a truck as you lay there, on Jerome Valeska’s bed, coming to terms with the fact that you were stuck with him from now on. Living the life of a criminal on Gotham’s streets, forced to turn over a new leaf. You sit paralyzed, too terrified to truly believe it.

“Oh, this is gonna be so much fun, doll face.” Jerome looks back over at you, noticing your frozen position. He smiles maniacally, showing his sharp, white teeth to you.

This was going to be anything but fun…

#cameron monaghan #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #cameron monaghan x reader #jerome x reader #jerome valeska x you #jerome valeska smut #jeremiah valeska #jeremiah valeska x reader #gotham #jeremiah x reader

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david-talks-sw · 1 year

Text

"If it's amazing, they'll know."

When talking about "George Lucas' vision" and the original six Star Wars films, there's one thing to bear in mind and that's Lucas' style of filmmaking.

These are movies for kids, designed to emulate the Saturday matinee serial format from the '30s, à la Flash Gordon. You see this most of all in the dialog. But something else you notice is George Lucas' filmmaking style, particularly in how he films and edits.

Take Darth Vader's introduction, for example.

Look at the composition: Vader stands tall, in contrast to the - as the script puts it - "fascist white armored suits of the Imperial stormtroopers". They're all in white, he's all in black, he's bigger badder, emerging from a cloud of smoke. What an entrance.

But if you think about it, it's just a single full shot. Very basic.

Compare this to Kenobi, wherein Vader is treated like a monster out of a horror movie. First, you glimpse his shadow, people reacting...

... then ominous bits and pieces like his boots or his lightsaber...

... and finally Vader himself, in all his terrifying glory.

That's a modern way of shooting it and it admittedly makes ol' Darth seem that much more imposing and absolutely badass.

But Lucas comes from a background of editing, experimental filmmaking and used to work as a documentary cameraman.

So what he did is just put the camera down and have Vader walk in. It's a faster yet differently-efficient way to introduce the character. It's more about dynamic pacing and visuals.

And that is Lucas' style. In his words:

"The way these films were put together, they're shot very much like a documentary film and the action of stage, and then I shoot around it. I don't stage for the camera. And as a result, there are a lot of things that happen pretty much by accident. It lends an aura of authenticity to everything." - Star Wars - Episode I: Podracing Featurette, 1999

Another example: the introduction of General Grievous.

A door opens revealing his ugly mug and he walks in. Boom.

But in Star Wars Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, you find that - as envisioned by the storyboard artists - our introduction to Grievous would've been very different.

"We wanted to have the introduction to Grievous be a series of really close shots that would be a series of details: his creepy foot, his creepy hand...

... his scary alien eyes...

... but George brought up an interesting point. He didn't want the film to concentrate on one design detail or one element— but rather let the world be there and let the viewer find those things without necessarily having it shoved in their face." - Derek Thompson, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013

"George nixed the idea, saying: 'I don't want something to be special because of how it's filmed, but because of what it is. Just put the camera on it and let it play out in front of the audience. If it's amazing, they'll know.'" - Iain McCaig, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013

That's it in a nutshell. "If it's amazing, they'll know."

The above storyboards look awesome and seeing Grievous be introduced that way would be great... but it wouldn't be Lucas' Star Wars. It would be some other director taking a crack at it.

And this way of shooting can be weird, even boring, at times. I mean compare Mace leading his troops into battle...

... to Aragorn leading his, in Return of the King.

The latter is so much more emotionally impactful. For a number of reasons (eg: Aragorn is a deuteragonist, Mace is a secondary character with less development), but one of them is that the moment is just shot in a way that's more interesting.

First we have an angle on Aragorn as he smiles and charges. Then the rest of the other characters as they react and follow suit, then the troops do the same.

With Mace it's, uh, *checks notes* he flourishes his saber and charges, the clones follow. Hell, for half a second we're looking at just an empty screen.

But y'know what the shot does look like?

It looks like something out of a WW1 documentary.

It's that authenticity he was mentioning further up.

At the end of the day, you can call it campy or bad... it's Lucas' style. It's cinema. There's a logic to it.

"To me, the script is just a sketchbook, just a list of notes, and, sometimes, I prefer the documentary feel of free flow, so I let my instincts tell me where to go. I like to create cinematically; I don't like to have a plan. I like to have a rough idea of what I'm going to do-certain themes, certain issues I'm going to deal with-and then I try to do so." - The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 116, 2005

He doesn't try to make a character look particularly badass with camera angles or make the shot too choreographed, he just goes with the flow, and makes the deliberate choice to shoot it that way, because for better or for worse... it's his movie.

So yeah, just a tidbit I thought would be interesting.

Edit:

@schilkeman added this very interesting point in the replies:

"He doesn’t stage for the camera, but he does compose for the camera. The documentary style, while somewhat detached, requires the filling of the screen with motion and light. The way things move through frame seem very important to him. These are things his films excel at."

#george lucas #lucas quotes #cinema

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ttte-tugscrowskullausmainblog · 2 years

Note

Out of the main 8 who’s the best chef\cook?

Henry: "Edward."

Thomas: "Yeah. Or James, James is a really good cook too."

Emily: "Anyone is better than Gordon, really.."

Gordon: "HEY-!"

#the engineers answer #edward is best cook #james is a close second #duck is actually a really good cook #but anyone is a great cook when it comes to gordons cooking

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thoughtfulchaos773 · 3 months

Text

True Intimacy for Carmy...

Is just staring at another womanm

Inspired by the post by @sydcarmy and @gingerylangylang1979 reblog—Carmy's shifty eyes post-panic attack.

Remember According to Molly Gordon's quote:

True intimacy for Carmy is just staring at another woman, really just deep connection...

We go from this whenever Carmy is with Sydney:

To this:

Now opposing arguments could be he was nervous about the opening. But he was calm enough to look nat in her eyes and calm enough to converse with her about the day ahead...but with Sydney that morning he avoids making eye due to the realization of his intimate feelings towards her and he is set on avoiding claire. Of course he's anxious about opening night but not as anxious as the thought of seeing claire and Sydney again after his panic attack.

The moment Carmy finally looks directly at Sydney? He remembers he needs to call the fridge guy.

How intentional was the fuck me reply since that was the first time that day Carmy makes direct eye contact for longer than 2 seconds with Sydney...

Emotional intimacy is established again when Sydney tells Carmy about her mom- the camera pointing out carmy's close stare and focus on Sydney.

Another thing to note. When Carmy finally starts giving her the stare? Is when he finally gives himself permission to focus on Sydney.

Molly's quote is an oddly descriptive characterization of Carmy, and the show's cinematographers have established reaching the audience subconsciously but what if that's the same for Carmy? they're conveying Carmy's subconscious, and 2x09 is the subtle realization for Carmy that he has feelings for her, and the general audience is still taking time to catch up?

I just know Carmy's looks and breathing are different regarding Sydney. Whenever Carmy focuses on Sydney, his breath slows, his eyes fixate on her, and it's clear that he is in love with her. Perhaps he avoids looking at her directly earlier in Omelette because he fears that she might be able to see the depth of his love for her.

#sydcarmy #ALSO #carmy x sydney #why is it such a thing this season that we focus on sydney?#not the bear #not the team #but carmy MUST focus on Sydney #may make a meta about this later because the focus on sydney theme this season has grabbed my attention #the bear 2x09 omelette

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lovepookie · 3 months

Text

₊˚ෆ Honey - k.gb

♡ sypnosis: you’re not really sure why the sight of gyubin’s eyes start to look different one day. they had your cheeks burning when he’d get even so much as a foot away from you despite him being your best friend, and they reminded you so much of honey when the light from the window hit them just right. you’ve slowly come to realize that the big brown eyes that belonged to the exhausting and annoying loser just might be the reason for your fast heart rate too.

♡ genre: fluffy, a hint of angst, fem!reader, bestfriend’s to lovers, college au

♡ 3.7k word count

♡ warnings: light cursing, playfully mean banter & nicknames, kissing, mentions of gordon ramsey and leprechauns, cardiac arrest is mentioned exaggeratingly. please lmk if i need to add any!

♡ nano note: hello beautiful readers, this is the fic for gyubin that won the voting poll!! please look out for more polls in the future, as i have lots of fics in my drafts! hope you like this very delusional piece of writing that i wrote when i realized kim gyubin was infiltrating my bias list. (lowkey wrote this to are you sleeping alone again? by bixby,, 10/10 song) enjoy! xoxo

.♡.

Your breath hitches as you take him in for the up-teenth time that day.

This time, he sat by the window, the golden-hour rays seeping through the clear glass and hitting his side profile just right.

As you stared, you found yourself drawn to his eyes.

They were….interesting.

They bulged out in a way that made them look so big and wonderous.

They were annoyingly endearing, and the way he blinked sent goosebumps down your arms because you felt like they were barely soft closes of the eye—the very idea of him being a living breathing boy made you feel…nervous.

He was kinda perfect.

But in this odd way.

It sent a shiver down your spine when his pencil went between his thick lips, and suddenly the angle of his head resting on his large hands had his brown orbs catching the light coming through the curtains in just the right way.

They were honey.

His eyes were honey.

And you couldn’t comprehend why it had taken you so long to notice.

Maybe it was his goofy awkward stature, or his funny but tantalizing way of teasing and talking that overshadowed it all…

But my, oh my.

Kim Gyubin was a beauty—an actual looker.

And within seconds, his eyes snap over to yours.

Honey.

A smile makes it’s way onto his face, and for a moment, it was just that; a simple smile.

Then, faster than you can blink, the smile streches teasingly and you’re reminded all over again why you hated it so much.

Yet, for some reason, this time…

These cheeky actions don’t sway you out of your trance.

They couldn’t, because the way his large hands lifted in the golden hour warmth and landed at the top of his curly brown hair in the form of a puppy ear swayed your heart more than you were willing to ever admit.

He was sweet—just like honey.

And it was slow; the realization that maybe, just maybe, Kim Gyubin held a honeycomb hexagon place in your heart.

It was soft, and slow and increasingly thicker—larger, more evenly spread out;

These thoughts of Kim Gyubin.

He looked so warm as the sun rays displayed hues of orange and yellow across the expanse of his face.

It was rich and undermining; the feeling that he was oh so real, oh so cute, and oh so…an option.

He was sweet and funny and…and...what exactly were you doing?

His eyes soften as they almost disappear in happiness; brown orbs like the base of the earth you stood on, like the smell of oak in the trees that helped you breathe—just gone in seconds as he let a chuckle leave his lips.

It was an exhilarating feeling; the slow burn of Kim Gyubin—but you somehow knew you’d always end up coming back for more.

Just like honey, the thought of Kim Gyubin slowly penetrated through every fiber of your being; your thoughts learning to love every part of him—just like honey was the feeling.

It had been a painstakingly slow realization; that Kim Gyubin was this sweet.

—

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

After your fun little run-in with your feelings, nothing was the same.

The tall third-piece to you and Gunwook’s friendship trio wasn’t the same to you.

It used to be you three against the world, but you can’t help but fathom what life could be like with Gyubin and you being more than just friends. It sucked so bad and kept you up at night sometimes.

His eyes.

His pretty smile and laugh.

Now the way he’d run over and throw his arm over your shoulders after the professor excused the morning class had your heart in your throat daily.

He did it before Gunwook could in order to use you as his “support beam” as you three walked through the campus halls. It was a race they’d play that just became a normal routine after class.

Everyday, after the class dismissal of course, they’d shoot up out of their chairs with their already packed things and scurry over to you, laughing about as they jammed their large arms and elbows around your neck, seemingly forgetting altogether that you were a very tangible and living being yourself.

It was a game.

A race.

However, what they didn’t understand was that everyday since your little epiphany, you’d so hopelessly wish that Gunwook would get to you first. And truth be told, fate was never really on your side, because for the last few days, Gunwook has been slacking.

So here Gyubin was, arms currently wrapped around your shoulders as he pulls you close into his chest. He laughs out loud freely as he sways you back and forth, and you feel your face go hot.

His laugh was so pretty and, despite hearing it all the time, it sent your heart beating faster than what you could comprehend was normal.

“Haha! I win again! What is that? fourth time in a row this week?” He laughs out, a smiley Gunwook hot on his tail with his backpack slung awkwardly across his shoulders.

Gyubins chest contracts in and out as he catches his breath; moving you to the beat of his heart in the process.

He smells nice, you note.

A little too nice.

“H-hey!-“ You stutter out as you pull away, cheeks pink and looking the most embarrassed you think you’ve ever been in front of the tall duo.

Gyubin stares down at you, smile still in his eyes as he sends you a questioning look.

“I’m sorry! Did I knock into you a little too carelessly?” He asks whilst stepping back.

Your heart skips a beat, and even thought you’re a few steps away now, you can still smell his cologne.

Without ever letting you answer him, Gyubin sends you a playfull look.

“Next time I’ll make sure to run faster and knock you off your feet altogether.” He muses, sending you a wink.

Gunwook just laughs and slings his own arms over Gyubin’s shoulder, putting him in a choke hold and raising him down to your level.

“Yah! Don’t make our Y/n flustered. Look at her cheeks already.” He teases, looking over at you and barely managing to bite back his playful gummy smile.

You can’t help but huff and roll your eyes mindlessly at the pair.

Were you seriously that easy to read?

This wasn’t good.

“Stop messing around. I’ll kill either of you if you knock me down you big fools.” You mutter, packing your things so that you can quickly get out of the two’s presence.

To be more specific; so you could get out of his presence.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see them send eachother a look. It was one of confusion, maybe even a bit of curiousity.

It made you burn inside because wow, you’re doing the exact opposite of what you intended to do and were now drawing attention to yourself and your newly odd behavior. But the boys are quick to move on when you put your backpack on and look over to them with a subtle grin in order to try and sell your supposed unbotheredness.

It seems they buy whatever it is that you’re selling, because Gyubin is quick to laugh as he tries to get out of Gunwook’s tightening grip on him. You start to walk and they follow, Gyubin clad in Gunwooks headlock as they both usher up next to you in the halls and continue their power struggle.

You can’t help but chuckle.

They were cute.

“Fine! Damn-“ Gyubin chimes up, finally giving up on getting out of the big baby’s grip.

This left him to turn his head to you, just for you to realize that you don’t think you’ve ever seen his face this close before.

“Wow- I’ve never seen you from here.” Gyubin teases, big eyes peering up at you.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” You deadpann, just on the verge of flipping him off—you hadn’t done that today and it was already lunch time.

A new record.

Still, Gyubin laughs out, a twinge of pink going up to the apples of his cheeks as his Adam’s apple bobbs up and down.

“Wow, you’re seriously irritated today huh? What happened? Did Ricky not look your way?” He questions, prying at what he believes to be is your crush. He’s got it all wrong though, Ricky’s just a friend that he and Gunwook like to tease you about.

You’re not even sure why.

One day Ricky sat next to you during a lecture and your two bafoons-for-friends had found out about a rumor that said you miraculously seduced the new blonde kid.

For a few semesters, you and Ricky would just mildly conversate but that was about all, yet still, Gyubin and Gunwook wouldn’t live it down.

All you can do is roll your eyes and continue walking, hoping Gyubin would drop the subject altogether.

I like you idiot, not him.

“Wow~ So that’s what it is! Your pretty blonde boy ignored you, huh? What did I tell you about him? I knew he’d hurt you-“

You cut Gyubin off by halting your trudge down the halls.

“Kim Gyubin, what’s it to you?” You counter boldly, face pulled into a frown.

Why was he being so protective?

It stung.

It hurt.

Because you knew it was out of friendliness, not jealousy.

Not because he reciprocated your feelings.

Not at all.

At the sight of your pissed off state, Gunwook is quick to let go of Gyubin, wide eyes of shock watching as you stride off quick without another second to spare.

Gyubin was completely taken aback.

Did Ricky really hurt you?

Did he flirt with you and lead you on like he thought he would?

Why were you so angry?

What was it to Gyubin?

He sighed as he stood up straight, the whole campus practically watching the two big boys in the hall and the interaction they just had with you.

Still, he paid no mind to them.

Where were you off to?

“You need to lay off the questions KimGyu…” Gunwook speaks up, placing a hand on his friends shoulder.

“…and if you’re so worried and like her so much, why don’t you just go after her?” He finishes, gaining a scared and irritated look from Gyubin.

Gyubin knows he’s right.

It was now or never.

“I really hate you right now y’know?” Gyubin utters, then with one swift movement he’s patting Gunwook on the chest and zipping off after you.

Gunwook let’s a laugh slip.

Was today the day his bestfriends finally admitted their undying love for eachother?

“You hate me because I’m right!” Gunwook shouts after Gyubin’s awkwardly trailing figure. He then lets a grin grace his face, pretty eyes curiving, completely unable to contain his gummy smile.

And like clockwork, he’s turning a corner and coming face to face with his own crush.

His eyes soften for a second, completely embarrassed that he ran into her to begin with.

“Oh- I’m- I’m sorry!” He let’s out shyly, hand going to grab her arm as she almost stumbles off of her feet. It was electric, the feeling, and for a second her eyes meet his before they shy away at the same time.

“It’s alright…you’re Gunwook right?” She mumbles out, looking down to his large hand still clad on her arm.

He’s shocked for a moment, completely entranced by the fact his crush knew his name too.

This wasnt a dream?

“Yeah, It’s Park Gunwook. Thank you for remembering…” He says, stars in his eyes as he speaks smoothly. For a moment she laughs, and Gunwook’s smile falters.

Then he realizes he’s still holding her and he very much wants to sink into the floor beneath him.

“Oh- I’m sorry! That’s not mine haha-“ He laughs out, deciding to make a joke of it anyways. She laughs, the prettiest laugh he thinks he’s ever heard, then she brushes her hair away from her face.

And just like that, Gunwook thinks he understands Gyubin.

He thinks he completely gets him now.

—

“Y/n!? Hello?” Gyubin shouts, peaking his head into almost every empty classroom on the level you disappeared on.

Yes it was lunch time, but he wasn’t able to find you in the cafeteria or at the restaurants across the way. The only other idea of where you’d be was a little corner somewhere in an empty classroom.

Sighing because he’d just searched the last empty classroom on that floor, he decides to close the door and lean his back against it as he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought.

Where could you be?

He was all out of options.

After a few seconds of moping about and praying you’d just appear in front of him, his brain suddenly starts to work, and within the next seconds he’s fumbling to take his phone out of his pocket. After successfully fishing it out of his baggy jeans, he opens his phone app and immediately scrolls to find your name.

You were labeled ‘passenger leprechaun🧟‍♀️👩🏻‍🍳🧔🏻‍♀️🧌🛒🫶🏻’ as courtesy of him obtaining his drivers license before you. The leprechaun part was—no not because, you were ‘magically delicious’, your words not his—but because once you once joked that you were his lucky charm due to you landing him free food at restaurants whenever you were together. This name followed by a slew of emojis were things he added overtime because of random moments he cherished with you.

He put a zombie emoji because of the one time he and Gunwook knocked on your door in the middle of a Tuesday night—they had bought cinnamon rolls but, alas, their dorms didn’t have an oven. You answered the door with bed head and mismatched pajamas, completely unaware that you’d be greeted at such a time when the world was to be dead. He called you a zombie. You flipped them both off. Regardless, you allowed them in to wreck your kitchen whilst you slept. You woke up to cinnamon rolls, so it all worked out just fine, Gyubin reasoned.

The chef emoji is actually something completely unrelated to food. Once, you two were in an argument and randomly you had put on this British accent and puffed your chest up to his—which made him blush furiously—then, you proceeded to cuss him out as if you were Gordon Ramsey. “Fuck out of my kitchen! Don’t just stand there you big fucking muffin!” You shouted before snatching the Wii controller from his hands as he bent over in a fit of laughter. He couldn’t even remember what game you two were playing or why you two had fought, he just remembered how hard he laughed. He swore that was the first time his heart skipped a beat.

The bearded woman emoji was because you claimed once that you could grow a better beard than Gunwook. That was all—Gyubin just held so much admiration for you after that because you were so shameless. It made him laugh and get all giddy too. He didn’t really know why at the time.

The troll was because you were ugly. Not really, quite the opposite actually, but he added it to get on your nerves and to convince himself that you were. The shopping cart was because once you three found an abandoned shopping cart and he pushed it around with you inside it at a park. Finally, the hand-heart was added very recently when he found himself staring at how small your hands were compared to his after he had forced you to complete the gesture.

He’d laugh and smile and cheese at a picture of you posing and completing his heart begrudgingly.

He stared at it for hours.

But now that he’s eyeing down the funny face you’re making in your contact photo, his heart is racing in a way that is making him very sure of himself and his next choices.

Without another second to spare, Gyubin is dialing your number, heart beating out of his chest as the receiving end rings—as he waits for you to pick up earnestly.

One ring.

No pick up.

He starts to pace back and forth in the hallway.

Two rings.

No pick up.

His hands go up to his mouth, wondering if he should break his sober streak of two months of not biting his nails.

Three rings.

“What do you want Gyu?”

Your voice suddenly booms through the phone speakers and oh my god Gyubin’s heart feels like it’s moving so fast, he might be going into cardiac arrest.

“Y/n! I- I have to tell you something.” He blurts out, eyes as big as flying saucers because what the fuck, is he really about to do this?

“Go ahead…” You mutter nonchalantly, and he swears he feels even more worried because of your upset tone.

“…should I come find you?” You ask a second later.

“No! I just need to tell you that- I kind of- maybe-“

He hears the absence of people talking on the other side of the line, and wow are you really isolating yourself right now?

Were you really that upset?

Is this truly you and him, alone in different places, left alone to nothing but eachother’s words in a place silent enough to hear a pin drop?

Is he really going to spill his guts right now?

He felt a burn in his throat, and he wished he could eat something to soothe it and unleash whatever it was that was stuck in his airways and preventing him from getting his words out.

Something warm and soft like honey.

Just…something.

He paces towards the end of the hall, readying himself for any outcome.

“Y/n, the truth is, I know we’re friends and I really like that but-“

“Do you want to stop being friends?” You ask, complete defeat in your voice.

“No! I-“ He’s quick to shut you down.

He really doesn’t know what to do, what the fuck was he doing right now!?

“I-…Stupid, I’m in love with-“

Gyubin rounds a corner and before he can finish his sentence, his eyes are locked onto one’s of honey.

Honey.

Smooth, warm, honey-like orbs that’d easily cure him—yet it seems to do quite the opposite.

You start to walk towards him, eyes locked onto him.

And then you stop when the last word drops from his mouth.

“…you.”

You both continue to stare at each other for a bit as you stand quaint and out of breath at the revelation that was Gyubin’s last sentence.

Your hand drops down with your cell phone, but never once do your eyes leave his.

And you hang up.

You hang up the call.

He can hear it go silent.

He can see it all happen.

And he knows you heard what he said.

Stupid, I’m in love with you.

He’s in love with you.

And for a moment, he watches your cheeks burn pink, and a smile raise to your face.

For a moment he’s speechless all over again.

Then before his mind can register it, his legs are moving and he’s walking towards you.

The corners of his lips are rising.

His arm is lowering as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

His pearly whites are on display and suddenly the honey in his eyes disappear because he’s bending over quickly and engulfing you in a hug. Gyubin feels your heart beating just as fast as his, confirming you feel the same.

He was your stupid too.

“Oh my goooood!~ Stupid where were you?” He wines out, very awkward and new to the energy that was just created in the studio.

You laugh and sway his big self back and forth whilst patting his back comfortingly.

“I went to get a coffee and then stop by my apartment…but what was that Gyu? Kim Gyubin what did you say on the phone?” You tease quietly, laughing as your cheeks burned red.

He pulls away quick and shoots a glare your way, grabbing your hand and lacing it with his. For as long as he could, he was going to avoid that question.

His pride would never let him face it.

He was a goner.

“Anyways, your class is in twenty minutes, let’s go find Gunwook-“ He says, trying to change the subject, but his hands interlaced with yours told you everything was different now as he dragged you through the hall.

“Why do we need to find him? Are you in love with him too?”

Gyubin halts his actions, staring off into the abyss as his tongue connects with the expanse of his inner cheek.

You stifle your giggles as it looks like he’s really working out what to do next in that small little brain of his.

So you take him in.

The beauty of his side profile; the sun once again finding homage across his skin. He lets a smile raise to his face and there it goes again; honey crescent eyes turning to stare back at you.

Like wind that blows swiftly across the night, he glances over your features naturally too—it feels like you had been truly seen for the first time.

Maybe he owned a bit more than one hexagon.

Just maybe.

“…I don’t know, is Gunwook my girlfriend?” He says nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow at you with that cute smile on his face.

You blush and cock your head to the side.

“What? Does that make me your girlfriend?” You question.

Gyubin shifts to hold both of your hands and before you can register, he’s leaning in and pecking your lips quick. Your heart feels like it shatters and then is put back together to something even greater.

It was a feeling you never knew you could feel for your best friend.

And Kim Gyubin was at the center of it all.

It felt…sweet.

He pulls away, and before you’re ever able to gather how to react to what just played out, he opens his pretty plush lips one more time.

“I don’t know, does it? Are you my girlfriend?”

And he leans; leans back with a smile as he peers down at you through his lashes, your hands still clasped in his.

The sun catches his eyes again.

And it all makes sense.

Honey.

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

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