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justficsiguess · 13 days

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He Let Me Steal You Like A Thief In The Night

Pairing(s) - (Starts with) Bruce Wayne x F!Reader, (Ends with) Selina Kyle x F!Reader

Summary - After Bruce Wayne continues to not treat you the way that you deserve, Selina Kyle decides to steal you away from him.

Warnings - Inspired by the song Diamond Girl by Set It Off. Bruce is a dick, Angst, References to cheating, Implied sexual content, Fluff and a happy ending, Bisexual!Reader. (If I missed anything, lmk!)

A/N - So, several months after saying I was working on this fic it's finally finished! It's also now my longest one shot to date which is cool! Anyway I hope the wait was worth it and that you all enjoy 💜

Word Count - 10k

As you finish putting your earrings in, you pause and look at yourself in the mirror. You look good tonight, you think. Your dress hugs your figure and accentuates your breasts and ass, but in a classy way that’s fitting for the charity fundraiser that the two of you are going to tonight. Your jewellery and makeup is much the same. Classy. Nothing too flashy. You wonder if Bruce will even notice the effort you have put in to make yourself look nice. He hasn’t the last few time. Hell, the last time he took you out to an event like this, he not only barely payed any attention to you, but he completely vanished from the venue. Leaving you alone and having to call Alfred to pick you up and take you back to your apartment.

Though Alfred had done a good job that night to try and hide it, you had still been able to tell he was absolutely fuming at Bruce. As are you each time that you think about it. Though you do have to keep in mind that he has been very stressed recently in regards to his company. While he hasn’t told you exactly what’s going on, you know it’s left him with a lot on his mind, a mountain of paperwork and has led to him being forgetful. You’re positive that it will all pass once he’s figured things out and then everything between you and him will go right back to the way that they were before.

Back when he would text you while in the middle of a meeting because he was thinking about and missing you. Or when he would call you, usually in the middle of the night, because he was miles away in another country and desperately wanted to hear the sound of your voice. And there were the times when you and him would curl up on a couch and watch a movie for date night instead of going out to some restaurant, away from the constant flashing of cameras that often left you becoming overwhelmed very quickly. Or there was that time…

Your train of thought is broken by a knock against the door of the en-suite. It’s probably Bruce wondering what’s taking you so long to get ready.

“Yes?” you call out.

“Master Bruce was wondering when you would be down.” It’s Alfred… Wait… Alfred? Bruce couldn’t even be bothered to come up and check on you himself? You push the thought away.

“I’ll just be a couple of minutes!” you call back.

“Of course, dear. I’ll let him know.”

With Alfred now gone, you turn you attention to the two bottles of perfume on the counter. One of the bottles is an expensive perfume that Bruce bought you for your birthday. It’s not your favourite scent in the world, but it was a gift from him and you have yet to wear it. The other is the perfume that you wore on the night that you and him finally went all of the way. Maybe if you wear that one he might actually pay you attention. The scent of it making him remember that night hopefully. After a moment of debating you decide to go for the latter. Tonight you wish to stay hopeful.

Once you have spritzed the perfume onto your pulse points, you grab your clutch and make your way out of the en-suite and bedroom and to where Bruce is waiting for you in the foyer. As you make your way down the stairs you expect him to look up at the sound of your heels clicking on the wood. Instead his eyes remain glued to his phone screen like a teenager; his fingers typing out a message just as fast as well.

You do your best to hide your disappoint, keeping your face blank, but it must have shown briefly because, as you reach the bottom of the stairs, Alfred suddenly clears his throat. The sound catches Bruce’s attention and he finally looks up from his phone. Before he’s allowed to say a word though, Alfred is speaking.

“You look lovely, dear,” he tells you. His compliment has you smiling. At least someone noticed.

By now, Bruce’s phone is back in his pocket and he’s stepping toward you. He checks you out, his eyes lingering on your breasts a little longer than is gentlemanly. His smile that genuine one he only ever gives you.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he says, his hand coming to rest beneath your chin and tilting your head up a little. “Aren’t I the luckiest man in the world?” You can feel your cheeks heating up at his words and the way he’s looking at you, as he breathes in your perfume. He presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a light one so that he doesn’t end up ruining your lipstick. “Come on. We’re going to be late.” He pulls away and takes your hand in his.

You and Bruce grab your coats and say goodnight to Alfred, who wishes you both a pleasant night. He leads you down the stairs to the car already parked out front.

The drive is a silent one. Neither of you saying a word nor him even bothering to put some music on. It has you yearning for the days when you both couldn’t stop talking, discovering all of these new things about each other or even discussing how you’re going to sneak away from the event at some point. Usually so that you could do other things together. And then there were the times where the speakers of whatever car you were in at the time would be blasting music as you and him sing along loudly to whatever song was playing.

Not being able to listen to the silence any longer, you decide to break it yourself.

“What’s the charity that’s being supported tonight?” you ask him. You don’t remember him ever mentioning a name, just that there was a fundraiser.

“Uh, it’s something to do with endangered animals,” he replies.

“What sort of animals?” There’s so many of them this day and age that are in trouble and you doubt that tonight is going to cover every last species.

“I believe it’s for big cats, but I honestly can’t remember. We’ll find out for sure once we get there.”

“Right. Of course.”

The car once again falls into silence as you struggle to think of what else to talk about. What even is there for you to say? How that was the longest you have spoken to him without his phone ringing and him walking away to answer it? And it’s not like Bruce is trying to fill the silence either. Is it just as awkward for him? Or does he simply not care?

You turn your attention to your window, watching as the city passes by as he drives. Silently, you continue to hope that things will get better once you arrive and he is no longer focused on getting to the venue.

Upon arriving, Bruce does help you out of the car and keeps you shielded from the vultures who are sat outside of the venue, waiting. The bright flashes from their cameras is blinding as they do their best to surround both of you, making large dots dance in front of your eyes. You’re sure that you would be stumbling blind if it wasn’t for him keeping you close and guiding you toward the entrance. Even after you both are inside the building and the doors are closed behind with security making sure that the paparazzi cannot follow, he keeps his arm linked with yours. Despite the harrowing experience with the paps that has left your heart hammering against your ribcage, not once does Bruce ask if you are okay. Perhaps he assumes that since you have been with him for the past year and a half that it no longer fazes you? You honestly can’t imagine it ever not fazing you, how invasive those people can be.

You are about to say something to him, ask him why he cares enough to try and shield you, but not enough to actually check on you, yet you’re not given a chance to as you’re already stepping into the main hall. All eyes are on you both. Bruce is already smiling that dazzling billionaire smile of his and you quickly follow suit, shoving your irritation away. The last thing you need is headlines about how pissy you look.

Your arms stay linked together for the majority of the night. Though they might as well not have been considering he spends the night basically ignoring you. You sip on champagne while Bruce talks to men who have no interest in the good cause that they are all suppose there for and would rather try and get him to invest in their company.

It’s not like you expect him to have his tongue down your throat (though that did happen a few times very early on in your relationship). And it’s not like you’re just standing around expecting him to pick up that something is wrong simply by your mood. You’ve tried talking to him, but each time he dismisses you. You’re honestly starting to feel like the only reason he brought you is for you to be his arm candy. The thought has you wanting to be anywhere, but here with him. And you would call Alfred and leave if you thought that you wouldn’t end up on the front page news thanks to the cockroaches sitting in wait outside.

Even with that said, you still don’t want to be around him right now and this is a big hotel. There’s got to be somewhere for you to retreat to for a little while. Some sort of garden or courtyard perhaps? You’ll find out once you slip out of the ballroom.

You pull away from him, unhooking your arm from his, as you tell him that you need to get some air. He doesn’t look you, not even a glance, as he replies with an “okay” and continues talking to the three men in front of him. As you make your way through the ballroom, you place your half finished glass of champagne onto the the tray of a passing waiter and leave the room through the nearest exit.

You wander the halls of the hotel for a little while, following the various gold plated signs that eventually lead you outside to the flower garden. A majority of the flowers are in bloom, leaving a very floral and sweet scent in the air and there are lamps in the ground between the flowerbeds, lighting up the pathway for you. You follow it until you reach a bench, where you decide to stop and take a seat.

It’s nice and quiet out here. The perfect place for you to be left alone with your thoughts. All of them about Bruce. You honestly do not even know when things started to actually change. It’s like one morning you woke up and he went from being totally and completely head over heels for you to not giving a damn about you. It leaves you wondering if the girls, who had approached you shortly after your relationship became public knowledge, were right. Has he grown bored of you? Is he really only keeping you around while he looks for someone new?

What if he’s already found that someone new and is with them on the nights that he doesn’t come back to the manor?

Almost as soon as the thought has entered your mind, you’re shoving it away again. No. No! You know Bruce. You’ve seen the way that he looks in disgust at the people in these rich people circles who are cheating on their spouses. You’ve listened to how he talks about them, a sharp edge to his voice. He hates cheaters so why would he turn around and do that to you? No. Absolutely not. He would never. Maybe… maybe this is just the end of what they call the “honeymoon phase”? At least, that’s got to be part of it. And you cannot forget how busy he is. But the more that you think about it, the more you think about these last few months, the more the doubt starts to trickle in. What if you’re wrong? What if you don’t know him like you think you do?

The more that you think about it, the more upset you become. So much so that you can feel tears threatening to spill, but as much as you want them to fall, you can’t. You’ll ruin your makeup if you do and as upset as you are, you don’t want that. It took forever and you do look really good tonight. Not that the man you got all dressed up for even cares about the effort that you put into your look tonight. Other than back at the manor, he has barely even looked at you.

And that thought alone is enough to finally get the tears rolling. After all what the hell does it even matter if he doesn’t care?

As you cry, you don’t even hear her. You don’t hear her heels against the stone pathway that leads to the bench you’re sitting on. You don’t even feel her as she sits down next to you. You only become aware of her when her hand comes in contact with your back and she rubs your back. You don’t jump at the sudden contact, you’re just confused as you look up at her, brow furrowed.

You go to speak. You’re not sure what, maybe to apologise for the state you’re in? You honestly don’t know, but it doesn’t actually matter as she doesn’t let you say anything, shushing you softly. The woman pulls a handkerchief from her purse and uses it to dab away your mascara filled tears. As she does that, through your tear blurred vision, you do your best to make out her appearance. Perhaps you know her?

She has striking green eyes, almost like a cat’s, and long, curly black hair. She’s gorgeous. That much is clear to you, even in your heartbroken state. And you’re certain that you do not know her. You would remember if you did.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

You shake your head, not trusting that the second you try to speak that you won’t turn into a babbling mess as your tears start to fall again. And it’s not really fair to burden a stranger with all of the reasons why you think that the man you’re in love with likely doesn’t love you. The look she gives you is one full of sympathy, which only makes you feel worse.

“A woman as beautiful as you shouldn’t be crying over a man like him,” she tells you.

“But things were so good in the beginning,” you say. All reservations that you had a moment ago about not burdening a stranger with your problems are suddenly out of the window. As you talk you half expect her to come up with an excuse to leave, most people would, but she doesn’t. Instead she stays and listens. The more you tell her the more annoyed she seems to get, but it doesn’t feel like it is directed at you. More likely she is getting annoyed at your boyfriend. Hell, now that you’re talking about it, and therefore thinking about it more, you are starting to get annoyed at him yourself as well.

“I’m sorry. That’s a whole load of information that you really did not need. I haven’t asked you your name.” And now you’re completely embarrassed. So caught up into your own shit that you completely forgot about basic manners. She doesn’t seem to have minded though. She smiles softly.

“Selina Kyle,” she introduces herself. “And you are?”

You introduce yourself. For some reason her name strikes a cord of familiarity with you. It takes you a second for you to know where. Tonight’s fundraiser, of course! She’s the one who organised tonight; you remember seeing her name on the notice board just outside of the ballroom. She must be so busy tonight yet she’s still taken time to make sure you are okay and she doesn’t even know you? It has you feeling rather touched.

“We should probably be making our way back,” she begins, “but first let me help fix your makeup,” she offers as she reaches into her purse.

After she helps you fix up your makeup, making it look you had never cried to begin with, you and Selina make your ways back to the hotel’s ballroom. Not long after you have reentered the room you lose sight of her. Not that you expect her to spend the rest of the night with you. You are strangers, after all, and she is busy. Instead you set yourself your own mission; finding the bar. You don’t care to look for Bruce. He didn’t bother coming to look for you despite how long you were gone for, so why should you look for him?

It doesn’t take you long to find the bar. You order your drink of choice and take a seat. Now that you’re here, your only interest is drinking as much as the bartender will allow.

As soon as the two of you re-enter the ballroom, Selina leaves your side and quickly, but gracefully moves through the room. Her eyes scan the area as she moves, looking for someone in particular.

Honestly she can’t believe him. Actually, maybe she can. This is Bruce after all. It still infuriates her. How is it that he has a beautiful woman like you in his life, who very clearly loves him, and yet he treats you like you are just another one of those models he used to “date”? And, from what you have told her, things weren’t all this way.

She can easily think of what’s changed. It’s the exact same thing that led to her leaving, several years ago. No matter what. One way or another, Batman will always end up taking priority over everyone else. Clearly, he needs a serious wakeup call.

It doesn’t take her long to spot him. He’s with several other men and honestly looks extremely bored. Yet he would instead give them his time than give it to you. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. Typical.

Bruce takes notice of her quickly, doing a double take as his eyes widen for a brief moment. He regains his composure, the shock disappearing as his eyes narrow and his brow furrows, his lips set in a grim thin line. He’s not happy to see her and, quite frankly, she’s not too pleased to see him either. A cat does not easily forget those who have wronged her.

She had been hoping that she would not have to interact him at all tonight. Simply take his money for her charity and then leave this city once more. Maybe forever. But things rarely go to plan in a city like Gotham.

Selina raises an eyebrow at him before gesturing with her head for him to follow her. She doesn’t look back, doesn’t wait for confirmation that he will. She knows he will follow. His curiosity always gets the better of him whenever she’s involved. Almost like it’s a law of life like gravity.

She weaves her way through the crowd once more, leaving the ballroom behind her. She decides to head back toward the hotel’s flower garden. It’s the perfect place to talk away from he nosey busybodies that make up Gotham’s higher society.

“Hello, Bruce,” she says, turning around to face him.

He scoffs. “Really? After all of this time that’s all you’ve got to…” he shakes his head. “I’m already with someone else. I–”

“Oh I know,” she cuts him off. “I’ve already met her. She’s beautiful, it’s just a shame that she’s so sad.”

Bruce frowns, an eyebrow raised. “What are you talking about? She’s fine.”

“She’s not, but you would know that if you were actually paying attention.” Selina steps toward him and leans in close. “Let me put it this way, clean up your act and start paying attention to her or I will.”

It’s toward the end of the night when you finally see Bruce again. You feel all warm from the alcohol running through your veins and each step that you take isn’t very coordinated, especially in these ridiculous heels.

“There you are,” he says as he approaches you. You’re currently using a pillar to steady yourself after almost tripping over your own feet. He looks troubled, but you don’t care enough to ask him what’s wrong. As of right now you really don’t see why you should. “Come on.” He links his arm with yours again, bringing you close to him to support you. “Let’s get back to the manor.”

You follow him back to the car. You’re so in your own head, focused on how good the drinks have made you feel, that you don’t even notice that there are barely any paparazzi around now, as he helps you into the car.

Much like the drive to the hotel, the drive back is silent. Of course you really don’t think you can hold a conversation properly any how. You’re sure to slur your words and, damn, your eyelids feel so heavy right now. It wouldn’t hurt to close them for a few minutes. Your last thought is how you’re going to have a killer headache in the morning.

The cafe had been busy when you had first entered, but the more that time passes and the lunch rush ends, the emptier the place becomes. You were suppose to meet Bruce for lunch, but while you showed up, he hasn’t. He hasn’t even bothered to reply to any of the texts you have sent him either. Instead they have all been left on read. You put his contact on mute. If he can’t be bothered to even reply to you then you can’t be bothered to talk to him full stop.

What makes it all worse is that, the day after the fundraiser, when you were somewhat recovered from your hangover, he had promised. He had promised that things would change and that you were important to him. And things had changed… For about a week. Once again you are left wondering whether or not the man that you love even loves you anymore.

The looks of pity and sympathy the other customers keep sending your way have you wanting to disappear forever. It’s humiliating. You decide that, as soon as you are done with your hot drink and food, you’re going straight back to your apartment and never leaving it again. You do your best to finish your drink and food as quickly as possible while also trying to not draw anymore attention to yourself.

As you are finishing up your drink, the chair across from you is suddenly pulled out and a woman sits down. Despite getting drunk, you recognise her instantly. Selina Kyle, from the fundraiser. Even now you still feel embarrassed about that night, crying and venting to a complete stranger about your relationship issues.

“Sorry I took so long, traffic was a nightmare!” She says it so casually, like she is the one who you were meeting today. She gives you a smile and wink. She doesn’t have to do this, hell you don’t even know why she is doing this, but you play along with her anyway.

“It’s fine. You’re here now,” you reply.

You briefly get up from the table to get another drink. After you have sat back down, the two of you beginning to talk. It starts off as basic small talk. The weather, the city’s current state, the money she had raised through the fundraiser and the good it was going to do for the big cats. She even leans across the table to show you pictures of her many, many cats. All of whom are, of course, utterly adorable.

As you take a sip of your drink, she asks you the question that you have been waiting for from the moment that she sat down at your table.

“That boyfriend of yours was supposed to meet you, wasn’t he?” she asks you. Though, you suspect, that she already knows before you answer her.

“Is it that obvious?”

She nods and, immediately, you want to disappear completely once more. She regards you for a moment, before speaking once again.

“Forget about him,” she tells you. “At least for tonight.”

“If I’m forgetting about him for tonight, what will I be doing instead?”

“You’ll be coming out with me to have some fun.”

The way that she says it. Like they are plans that have already been made and you are not allowed to back out. You don’t want to anyway. It sounds like fun, a night out with Selina, leaving Bruce alone and wondering where you are for once. It’s the least of what he deserves. Maybe it will be the wake up call he needs. And if not… You don’t want to think about that right now. He’s pissed you off, but he is still the man you love and, even with the way he has been treating you recently, you still cannot imagine a life where he isn’t in it.

So, you agree to going out with her and you exchange phone numbers. For the first time in a while you were actually looking forward to something.

The nightclub is loud, the base thrumming through you and you cannot hear yourself think. The place is packed and so many bodies close together has you feeling hot, and you haven’t even done any dancing yet!

These types of places are not usually your scene. You find them far too loud and there are far too many people around, but it’s hard to focus on all that with the woman in front of you. Selina’s outfit and makeup is casual, a strapless black top, jeans, a simple cat eye and red lipstick, yet she is easily the hottest person in the room. Sure, you’re in a committed relationship with Bruce, but you’re not blind and you can appreciate still. You are sure that he does.

She grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd and toward the bar. Much like the rest of the club, there is quite a few people around the bar. Definitely not enough room for the both of you to approach, so you tell her your preferred drink to order and she disappears amongst the crowd to get it.

You’re not entirely sure what to do with yourself, while you wait for her. Which has you feeling rather awkward. It doesn’t really help that people keep looking over at you. They’re likely just checking you out, but, standing here by yourself in your own head, you start wondering whether or not they are just judging you and the outfit that you have picked out for tonight. You aren’t left to fall down that rabbit hole for long though as Selina repappears, drinks in hand.

You do your best to shout over the music to thank her, but after the third time she finally moves in close to you. So close that her body is now touching yours, which leaves your heart thumping hard against your ribcage. Now that you have been able to thank her, she somehow moves closer, bringing her lips up to your ear. You can feel her breath fanning across you skin, making goosebumps raise across your skin, despite the heat of the nightclub.

“If you want to thank me, relax and have some fun.”

You almost laugh at her words. Is your nervousness that obvious? You had been hoping that you would be able to hide it more from her, but it seems she doesn’t miss a thing. Your nervousness doesn’t last. With the alcohol of a couple more drinks flowing through you, any doubts or anxiety you had before are quickly forgotten about. As are any thoughts of Bruce.

Hours fly by without you noticing as you dance and drink with Selina. Your laughter is loud, though still drowned out by the base, but she hears it easily enough. The green of her eyes seems to almost sparkle each time the neon lights hit them. The same way that you remember /his/ eyes lighting up when he first met you. Though you’re sure that it’s just the alcohol making you see things. She knows that you have a boyfriend and there’s not possible way she could be interested in you like that. (Though there had been a time you had thought the exact same when it had come to Bruce).

As the night draws on and the club starts to empty once curfew has hit, instead of finding your way back to your apartment, you and Selina find your way in a diner. With how late it is, the diner is mostly empty. The only other two customers there being a couple of cops taking a short break on their night shift. She leads you to the booth furthest from the cops, side eyeing them like she expects them to do something.

The waitress brings over a couple of menus. You thank her and take one of the menus while Selina declines, ordering only a coffee. After looking over the menu, along with your own coffee, you also order a burger and fries. While you did eat before coming out tonight, all of the dancing has left you absolutely starving.

While you wait, you decide to have a quick look at your phone. You quickly wish that you hadn’t. There’s dozens of messages, voice mails and missed calls from Bruce. He is very obviously worried and it has you feeling guilty. Maybe you should give him a call and let him know that you are okay?

“Your boyfriend?” Selina asks, breaking the silence that had fallen.

You nod. “Yeah. Maybe I should give him a call,” you say. “He seems really worried.”

“Does he call you when you send texts worried about him?”

You stop to think for a moment. “No,” you finally reply. “He usually only sends a short text.” Almost immediately, you understand what she is getting at. He doesn’t call you, only texts. So that’s what you do. A short text that reads “I’m fine. Still out with a friend.” Then you turn off your phone’s screen and return your attention to Selina.

Within that time, the waitress returns with yours and Selina’s coffees and your burger and fries. You both thank the waitress before returning to your conversation. You talk quietly, mostly about tonight. Despite your originally anxiety about tonight, you did end up having a lot of fun that you otherwise wouldn’t of had, had she not met you in that coffee shop and suggested it. As you talk, between taking bites of your burger, she steals a few of your fries, causing you to smile and shake your head.

“If you’re hungry, why didn’t you order your own fries?”

She shrugs. “They taste better when they’re not actually yours.”

Her reply makes you laugh and nod in agreement. After all, you are guilty of having done the same thing a few times, in the past.

The food and coffee does a good job at sobering you up. Not that you had been super drunk. Certainly not nearly as much as you had been after that fundraiser. Once you’re both finished, you reach for your bag to pay, but Selina beats you to it.

“You can pay next time,” she tells you.

You raise your eyebrow at her. “There’s going to be a next time, is there?”

“Of course there is.” She says it so matter of factly, like it’s already a done deal despite there not even being a discussion. Not that you mind. You would be more than happy to come out with her again.

With the food and drinks paid for, you and Selina leave the diner. Her driver is already waiting out front for both of you, ready to drive and drop you off at your apartment. You thank her again for suggesting that you go out with her tonight and that you definitely wouldn’t mind if there was a “next time”. You both say goodnight to each other and you make your out of the car and into the building.

Your apartment is pitch black and you fumble in the dark for a few seconds before your fingers finally find the switch. Despite the fact that you were expecting it, you still wince as the sudden brightness of the lights blinds you for a moment. You’re actually surprised to find your apartment so empty, you would have thought that Bruce would drop by unannounced, he has a key and you remember the endless messages and voicemails left by him, that you saw just a couple of hours ago. You haven’t checked them since then. Maybe you should do so now, but first your feet are killing you and you desperately need to get your shoes off.

With your shoes finally off, you collapse onto the couch. You pull your phone out of your bag and have a look at your messages. Since the one text you sent while at the diner, he’s only sent you one other text.

”Why didn’t you let me know? I had something planned tonight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to make it to lunch?”

As soon as you hit send, you decide to put your phone on do not disturb mode. You will deal with Bruce in the morning. Now that you are home, the high of the night is starting to wear off and you are starting to feel really tired. All you want to do is get your makeup off, get into your pyjamas, curl up and go to sleep. So that’s exactly what you do.

In the weeks that follow, you end up spending a lot of time with Selina. She takes you to the other nightclubs that are dotted around the city and you often meet up for lunch. You learn a lot about each other during these lunches. Like how she came to have so many cats and the passion she has in the various causes that she supports. In turn you tell her about your own work. As you talk you honestly expect her to lose interest and not pay any attention. You expect various hmms and huhs and to see her looking either at her phone or at something else in the room instead of you, but it doesn’t happen. The entire time her attention is always focused on you and she actually asks you questions. You have got so used to being ignored that you had forgotten what it was like to actually be listened it.

It’s not like Bruce didn’t ever not listen to you though. He did, in the beginning at least. But like everything else, with the honeymoon period being over, he just doesn’t do it anymore. All of it leaves you to continue to wonder whether or not he does actually love you or if you were just another “conquest” in a long line of them. But it’s not like you can even ask him. Right now Bruce is half a world away from you, thinking that sending endless gifts, flowers and chocolates is a good way to apologise. Which is not the effect you had hoped ignoring him that first night out would have. And even if he wasn’t half a world away from you, getting him to stay and talk to him is nearly impossible since you can never seem to hold his attention for more than a few seconds.

It’s late at night and you’re laying wide awake in bed. You can’t stop thinking about Bruce and not in the way that you used to. More like you have no idea how you even feel about him anymore. Do you love him? Before you had an immediate answer. “Yes, of course I do.”. Now though? You can’t answer it anymore because you don’t know what the answer is.

And then there’s Selina. The way that she looks at you from over the table during lunch or the way that she touches you when the two of you are dancing together. It makes it feel like there are butterflies fluttering around your stomach and your heart pounding hard against your ribcage. More often than not you have found yourself looking at or dreaming about her lips, wondering how it would feel for her to kiss you…

Almost as soon as the thoughts come to you, you shove them away. They really aren’t helpful to your current dilemma when it comes to you trying to figure out how you feel about Bruce.

You groan and bury your head in your pillow. When did things in your life become so complicated?

“You seem distracted,” Selina says. You look up from the plate where you have just been pushing the food around, like a child.

“Sorry,” you reply. She invited you out to dinner a few weeks ago, at one of the fanciest restaurants in Gotham and you’ve spent the entire time distracted because you can’t stop thinking about Bruce and how you feel about him. It’s been plaguing your mind for a few weeks.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I…” While you have thought the words a couple of times now, you don’t think you are ready to say them out loud. Especially in public with so many eavesdroppers. You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Selina frowns, clearly not believing you, but she doesn’t push it. Which you are thankful for. Saying those words out loud will make them really real and you don’t know if you are ready for that. How did the relationship you had once been sure would last forever end up turning into this?

For the rest of dinner, you do your best to push away any and all thoughts about Bruce and your relationship with him. He will be back from his business trip by the end of the week and you can deal with your feelings then. Though, as you eat and talk with Selina, it briefly occurs to you that he had once promised to take you, but never did. It leaves a somewhat bitter taste within your mouth.

You pull your coat close to your body as you and Selina leave behind the warmth of the restaurant and step out into the cold Gotham night. She links her arm with yours and pulls you close as you start walking down the street, back toward your apartment. It’s not a long walk, only a couple of blocks.

Selina knows why you have been distracted, not only tonight, but for the past couple of weeks. She’s felt the way you have responded to her touches and she’s seen the way that you have been looking at her. She has also seen how you are around Bruce now, during various events he’s taken you to. You are no longer looking at him, waiting for him to pay attention to you, instead you are looking around for her.

She hasn’t missed the way you react to her when she touches you, while you are dancing with her. And she certainly hasn’t missed the way that you look at her. Especially her lips.

She hasn’t made a move to kiss you yet though. While you’re drifting away from him, you haven’t actually broken up with Bruce yet. And you have so much inner turmoil right now she doesn’t think it’s fair to add on to it. But if you were to suddenly decide to kiss her, well, she certainly wouldn’t stop you. In fact, she would like it a lot.

Does Bruce even know? She wonders. He prides himself in being the world’s greatest detective yet, as far as she can see, he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re drifting away from him. Or that she is the cause.

At least he hasn’t caught on to it until tonight.

Out of the corner of her eye, high above on a rooftop on the opposite side of the street, she catches the sight of a large black mass billowing out into the wind. He lied to you. You have told her that he said he would be back at the end of the week, yet here he is. Using his mask to spy on you instead of the usual crimefighting he’s so passionate about.

Knowing that he’s watching, she pulls you closer to her.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight and you’re nice and warm.”

She knows that Bruce can hear the two of you speaking and she knows that it must be driving him crazy that he can’t just swoop down and interrupt. There’s people everywhere and, from what she can tell, you have no idea what he does when the sun sets. Things probably wouldn’t be as bad between you and him if you did know about his nightly activities. Or, maybe, if you did know, you would have already left him.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask her, once you and her have reached your apartment and you’re opening the door.

“Normally I’d love to, but something has come up with the land I was hoping to turn into a cat sanctuary,” she explains. Selina has her phone out, open on the email she received at the start of the week. It’s not a complete lie. She has hit issues involving that land, but she’s not dealing with it tonight.

Your face drops for a second before it’s quickly gone and replaced by a well practised understanding smile. Even the words you say “Of course, I understand,” sound rehearsed. He has done a number on you and it has her feeling a little guilty. How many times has he pulled this move on you? And now she’s doing the same thing. She steps forward and takes ahold of your hands.

“Are you free tomorrow?” she asks, “We could have lunch, maybe even check out that new jewel collection at the museum? You know, to make up for me having to suddenly leave.”

You look at her for a moment, like you weren’t expecting that. “Oh, I’ll have to check my schedule, but I think I should be able to. I’ll text you?”

“Of course.”

As soon as you are in your apartment and the door is shut, Selina is gone. Back out into the night, into her car and then back out into the night once more; wearing a completely different outfit. It’s not long before she is swinging high above the streets of Gotham, with a certain pointy eared man following after her.

It doesn’t take him long to catch up to her. She feels the change in the air around her as his hand closes around one of her arms and her world spins briefly as he grabs and spins her around, slamming her against a wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Selina?” he growls, the white lenses of his cowl narrowed. His act might work on the common criminal, but it has never phased her one bit. Calmly, she removes his hands from her arms and pushes him away.

“I warned you, Bruce,” she says as she steps away from him, putting space between them. “Don’t you remember? I told you what would happen if you didn’t change how you were treating her."

“What? I didn’t think…”

“You never do. If it makes you feel any better she hasn’t kissed me yet. Maybe there’s still a chance for you, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“Why?”

“It’s rather simple, you weren’t treating her correctly so I decided that I would.” Her shrug is causal, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which it should be to the person who considers himself a detective. “And maybe it’ll make you think twice before you decide to treat another woman like this.”

She doesn’t wait for him to say anything. She walks to the edge of the roof, not even taking the time to look back like she once did a long time ago, and jumps. He doesn’t follow. Likely too caught up within his own inner turmoil about the revelations of tonight.

If she was anyone else, Selina wouldn’t be able to understand how or why you are still with him. But she does understand the how and why because she was you several years ago. It’s easy to get caught up in a man like Bruce Wayne. With his looks and the way he talks, that silver tongue of his. The way that he makes you feel like the most important person in the world just with one look.

Though, she really does wish that you would break up with him and soon.

This may have started out with her proving to you that you deserve so much better than putting up with the way that he treats you, but she has grown to like you. A lot. And she would rather see you with her than him. Though, she supposes, it’s only a matter of time before that happens. She simply needs to have some patience.

When you wake up it’s to a couple of texts from Bruce. Telling you that he’s coming home early and wants to meet for lunch. You reply telling him you can’t, you already have plans. So he offers dinner at the manor, away from the prying eyes of the public. Just you and him. Normally the premise of having a quiet and private night with him would excite you. Finally having him all too yourself far away from flashing cameras and gossipers. Instead, you don’t feel… anything. There’s no more looking forward to seeing him. No quicken of your heartbeat against your ribcage, or between your thighs, as you think of him. No wanting to blow off any other plans so that you can see him sooner. Hell, you don’t even want to see him. Not really.

As you sit there in bed, looking over the text messages again, those words comes back to you. The ones that you have been struggling to admit out loud. Though, with this newest revelation, you know that you need to and sooner rather than later. It’s not fair on either of you if you don’t.

Lunchtime feels like it takes forever to arrive as you do some chores around your apartment. You only just saw her last night, like every time, you can’t wait to see her again. And that excitement has the hours ticking by so slowly. There is a part of you that does have you pausing for a moment, wondering if this new feeling of excitement will end up the same. But you remind yourself she isn’t him.

You meet Selina at the same cafe that you had when she had suggested going out and giving Bruce a taste of his own medicine. You often meet her here. The place essential becoming your “spot”. Like how the park had once been yours and Bruce’s.

She’s already at the table, waiting for you. She has her hair done up in a bun and she’s wearing a red dress. You feel your heart almost skip a beat when you lay eyes on her. There’s already a latte on the table.

“I’m not late, am I?” you ask as you sit down. There had been some traffic on your way, but you had been sure you would still arrive on time.

“You’re on time,” she says before covering her mouth and yawning, “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she explains. “I already ordered you your usual.”

“You’re not going to lose that land are you?”

“With all the work that I did last night, I would say that it’s safe and sound now,” she replies with a smile.

“That’s great news.”

She looks you over for a moment, her smile now gone and replaced by a small frown. “Something’s still bothering you,” she states.

“Bruce texted me this morning, he’s back early and wanted to meet for lunch, but I wasn’t about to cancel plans with you, so we’re having dinner instead tonight…”

“But you don’t want to go.”

“Is it that obvious?” You glance around the cafe, wondering if anyone is listening to your conversation. This city is filled with people who don’t know how to mind their own business. Especially when you are dating the renowned “son of Gotham”.

“I just… I know I have to face him because it’s unfair on both of us to keep this going, but I feel so guilty. He’s got no idea.”

“He would had he been paying attention,” she says. You can’t help, but agree.

Much to your disappointment the lunch goes by relatively quickly and before you know it your back at your apartment, getting ready for your date with Bruce. Just as your finishing up, there’s a knock at your door.

You answer the door to Bruce, who’s holding a bouquet of red roses and that genuine smile that he has only ever given you. You honestly weren’t expecting him to show up. Instead you had been expecting him to send Alfred.

“Hey, baby,” he greets you, using his free hand to pull you close and pressing a light kiss to your lips. Doing his best not to mess up your lipstick. “You look beautiful.”

The way he’s looking at you and kissing you has your heart skipping a beat. For weeks now this is all you have wanted. Your man looking at you like he actually loves you and wants you. All of his focus on you. But a voice in the back of your head reminds you of what he’s been like for weeks now and that he’s only acting like this now so that you don’t leave him. Chances are, as soon as he’s sure you won’t leave, things will go straight back to him ignoring you again until you think of leaving and the cycle will repeat.

You can’t go through that again. You won’t go through that again.

“I need a few more minutes,” you tell him as you let him inside of your apartment.

“Of course. I’ll put these in water for you?”

“You can just leave them on the side if you want. I’ll deal with them later,” you reply.

“It’s no trouble.”

You really wish that he would just leave the damn flowers alone. After tonight you’re only going to end up throwing them out. By the time you’re finished up and leaving the bedroom, he’s put the roses into a vase of water and set it onto your coffee table.

“Ready?”

The more that you look at him, the more you can see the man that you fell in love with to begin with. The way that he looks and talks to you, touching you, making you feel like the only woman in the world. But, once again, you can’t forget the way he’s been. Going from the most attentive boyfriend ever and then completely ignoring you like you aren’t his girlfriend, just another acquaintance he has on his arm and back again. And other than your heart skipping when he kissed you earlier you’re not feeling anything else. Your heart’s not even skipping anymore.

You haven’t eaten a thing all night. You usually love Alfred’s cooking, but tonight you have absolutely no appetite. It makes you feel worse than you already do, even if Bruce has barely touched his own food. You push your plate away from you.

“Sorry, I’m just not hungry,” you say.

“Same here,” he replies, shoving his own plate away. He sighs before taking a sip of his drink.

A long awkward silence falls between the two of you. Just as you start to think about saying something, perhaps the words that you have been too chicken to finally say, he breaks the silence.

“It’s over, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, Bruce. I just… I don’t love you anymore.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry. It’s my fault. Maybe if I had been more attentive or something. I don’t know. Maybe I could have saved this.”

“I still should have said something sooner.”

“Maybe, but at least this way I got to see you one more time.” Bruce gets up from his seat. “I’ll go get the car and I’ll drive you home.”

“I really am sorry,” Bruce says. His hand is cupping your face, thumb softly stroking your cheek. You expect him to kiss you for the last time, but he doesn’t. He pulls away, letting his hand fall away and back to his side. “Maybe we could have made this work if I was a different person leading a different life or maybe we would have ended up here anyway. I don’t know, but don’t blame yourself, okay?”

You nod. “I think I’m going to miss what we could have been,” you reply.

“So will I.” He steps forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Goodbye,” he says your name softly, as if it hurts him to say it. “Good luck with the rest of your life.”

“Goodbye Bruce.”

As soon as he’s gone, and you’re back inside of your apartment, you’re pulling your phone out of your purse and dialling Selina’s number.

“I thought you were supposed to be on a date,” her voice comes over the phone, sending butterflies swirling through your stomach.

“I was. Are you home?” you ask.

“I am. Why?” You picture her smiling, like she already knows why you’re asking.

“I have something to tell you, but honestly, I need to say it in person,” you explain.

“Oh? Well I certainly won’t say no to you coming over. You know my door’s always open to you.”

“Good because I’m on my way over.”

Your heart is hammering against your chest as you stand in front of Selina’s apartment, waiting for her to answer. It feels like forever before the door finally opens, which only makes the butterflies worse. Her hair is flowing over her shoulders and the only thing she’s wearing is a short red silk robe, that’s barely containing her breasts.

“I broke up with him,” you tell her.

“Well it’s about time,” she replies. She pulls you close. Her fingertips on your skin, sending electricity jolting through you. One of her hands remains on your arm while the other comes to cup your jaw. Her green eyes flicker down to your lips before quickly returning to your eyes. Understanding her silent question, you make your move and lean in. Your heart is somehow beating even harder, feeling like it’s trying to burst from your chest while everything else seems to slow down. Seconds feel like they trickle by before her lips finally connect with yours, making everything stop.

Selina kisses you slowly and sweetly. Her lips are even softer than you imagined them being. Kissing her is even better than you imagined. Your hands find her hips and you move forward, stepping more into her space until your bodies are touching. She smiles against your lips and pulls away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she says. Both of her hands are cupping your face now and that look in her eyes has your stomach doing flips.

“And you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” you reply. That makes her laugh softly.

“Come inside?” she offers. You agree eagerly and let her pull you inside of her apartment.

The feeling of kisses being pressed to your face slowly bringing you out of your sweat dreams. You grumble as you turn over and try to bury yourself further into the covers. Laughter reaches your ears and has you feeling warm and fuzzy inside. She keeps kissing you. Pressing them to your neck and shoulder blades. You sigh as you finally lift your head and look over your shoulder at Selina.

Playfulness sparkles in her green eyes. Her hair is a mess, but you think she looks as radiant as ever. You sit up and pull her close to kiss her. She kisses you back with fervour and heat rushes through you. Before you know it, she’s straddling you and has you pinned down against the mattress. You whine when she pulls away. You do your best to chase after her lips again, but she holds you down.

“As much as I would love to keep you in bed, we’re only here for a couple more days and we still have a long list of places to check out,” she says. She gets up off of the bed and walks over to the curtains where she pulls them open, letting the daylight into the hotel room and showing the view it has of the Eiffel Tower.

You and Selina had come here to Paris after visiting and exploring London. Shortly after getting together, you and her had decided you both needed a change of scenery, far away from Gotham. Before the two of you had left she had let you know about her secret double life.

She didn’t want there to be secrets. She knew how quickly they could break down a relationship so she told you about Catwoman. Stealing from the rich and how she was the East End’s self appointed protector, keeping the women and children safe from the men that prowled the area.

You didn’t believe her to begin with. That was when she showed you her catsuit and her bullwhip. You couldn’t not believe her after that. While it had come as a shock, it didn’t change how you felt about her. You love her.

“Don’t you mean you have a long list of places to case so you can take from them?”

She turns around to face you, hands on her hips, completely unashamed of her nakedness. Not that you’re complaining as you run your eyes over her body. “They’re not all for me. Picked out a few spots that I know you’re going to love.”

As soon as you have showered and you’re dressed, you and Selina leave the hotel. You let her lead the way, like always. First she takes you to a small cafe for breakfast. The food and drink is good, though your company is certainly better. Once you were both done eating she takes you by the hand and you continue your tour of the city.

She takes you to a couple of different museums, sharing with you her favourite exhibits. And then she’s taking you to almost endless jewellery and clothing stores. Neither of you buy anything from any of the stores you visit, but you know, beyond a doubt, that she is shopping. You don’t know the ins and outs of it, it’s safer that way if the cops come knocking, but in the fifteen minutes you’re in each store, she already knows what she wants and how she’s going to get it without tripping the security systems. And she knows what you want as well, keeping an eye on whatever your eyes linger on for just a moment too long.

As evening time rolls around, you and Selina decide to end your long, yet enjoyable, day at a rooftop restaurant. The Eiffel Tower acting as the backdrop, like you’re in some ridiculous cheesy romance movie.

Though you both arrived back at the hotel to change for dinner, she leaves long before you. You know why, but if anyone was to ever ask you where she is was on any particular night, you already have an answer. “Yeah, she was with me all night.”

Selina doesn’t leave you waiting at the restaurant for long, arriving five minutes after you. She arrives breathless, but looking perfect. Ringlet curls, a smokey cat eye and purple lipstick that matches her dress. Your mouth almost drops open at the sight of her.

“I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?” she asks as she sits down.

“Of course not. You never do,” you reply.

Dinner goes by quickly which isn’t hard with how caught up you and Selina are with each other. The subtle touches sending goosebumps across your skin and how she looks at you. Only this time there’s no guilty when you think about kissing her. And you can kiss her. Nothing and no one in your way to stop you. And you do love kissing her.

“I’ve got you something,” she says. She reaches into gift bag she brought with her and presents you with a blue rectangle box, complete with a green bow. It’s light and doesn’t make much noise when you gently shake it.

You undo the bow and remove the lid. Inside of the box is the diamond bracelet that you had been eyeing up earlier. You smile at the sight. She leans over to help secure it to your wrist.

“You shouldn’t have.”

She shrugs. “It’s not like it cost much,” she laughs.

After dinner, you go for a walk together through a nearby park. You walk hand in hand, talking and laughing quietly. She suddenly stops in her tracks and before you can ask what’s wrong she kisses you. It’s not a peck either. Her full lips move against yours, tongue working your mouth open and stealing away your breath. Not that it’s hard for her to do that.

She rests her forehead and you can’t stop thinking about how happy you are. It’s strange for you to think that there had once been a moment not too long ago when you had thought you knew what happiness was. You had been wrong. Standing here with her, you know what real happiness is supposed to be.

“Let’s sit,” she says. You agree, thankful for the chance to sit, your heels are starting to hurt. She leads you toward a nearby bench where you take a seat.

With that feeling of happiness that’s flowing through you and the realisation you have come to, you decide to take a chance.

“I love you, Selina,” you tell her.

She looks a bit taken back which has you panic. Is it way too soon to say that? It only lasts a moment though as she smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling before she’s leaning back in to kiss you again.

“I love you too,” she replies. Hearing those four words has your heart feeling like it might burst from how happy you are. You can’t hide your huge smile, nor would you want to. She then leans in close and lightly strokes your hair. “How about we go back to our hotel room and, should we make it the bed, we won’t leave it for all of tonight and tomorrow hmm?”

You agree eagerly.

#yeeEEESSSS thanks for saving me Selina 🙏#dc #selina kyle #catwoman #batman

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justficsiguess · 17 days

Text

beautiful mind pt. 2 (18+, j'onn j'onzz x fem human reader)

⭓ here’s part two. read part one here. this content is not intended for minors. enjoy 👽

You don't have time to let your nerves get in the way, because J'onn is already kissing you as he eases both of you onto your nearly made bed, making your heart race in the best way. You had made sure to deep clean your room before inviting him back to you place, dusting areas you usually neglect, cleaning your windows inside and out even though it would be hard to tell since its evening time. You've been preparing for this, thinking about it and wanting it all to be perfect. And it does feel perfect, the way he's kissing you and running his hand down your side. his presence is all-encompassing, filling your head even before he enters it.

J'onn pulls away from the kiss, and looks down at you. "Are you ready?" He asks, reaching to caress your temple, itching for the connection he's so eagerly been anticipating.

"Yes." You whisper, taking a deep breath and calming your racing thoughts. Long, green fingers stroke the side of your face with a gentle touch as you feel a foreign sensation in your mind. Keeping your eyes fixated on his deep red ones, the sensation grows more intense, like there's someone else taking up space in your consciousness.

'Can you feel me?' J'onn asks.

"I do, I feel you." You reply, realizing only after you speak out loud that his mouth wasn't moving, and he was speaking directly into your mind.

J’onn grins. It's a different grin than you’re used too, since this is your first time seeing his true form. But you’re already growing fond of his Martian features. His hand trails down to cradle your neck, tangling in your hair just a little. ‘I feel you too.’

His lips brush against yours again, and you swear you can sense his own desire through the slowly strengthening connection with his mind.

‘You’re right. I do desire you. And I can feel your desire for me, too.’

You press your lips more firmly against his, lifting your head from your pillow just a little, his hand staying tangled in your hair. ‘I’m glad the feeling is mutual.’ You respond in your mind. The sensation is still a bit much as you get used to his mind-touch.

‘As if that were ever in doubt.’ J’onn chides back. The psychic connection allows you to banter with him as the two of you deepen the kiss, his large body pressing you firmly against your mattress.

Feeling excited, your hands travel up his back, lightly caressing his body and exploring the real him. J’onn has been nude since shifting into his true self, but you’re still wearing the black sweater and jeans you put on when getting ready for your date earlier. The layer of clothing starts to frustrate you as you get more and more worked up from how intensely J’onn is kissing you.

J’onn has kissed you before, this is hardly the first time the two of you have made out. But knowing where it’s leading is making you excited, and before you can even finish thinking about how much your sweater is annoying you, J’onn breaks the kiss and leans up off of you to help you remove it.

'Allow me.'

You blush, already forgotten that he can hear your thoughts. You allow him to help your sweater over your head, leaving your bra alone for now.

You feel self-conscious as J'onn drinks in your body, still partially clothed but apparently exciting him nonetheless.

'You are breathtaking.' He admits. And somehow, you believe him. You can sense the sincerity in his thoughts, you know his compliments are genuine. ‘Something we have in common.’ You think back with a sly grin.

J’onn rubs his hand down the side of your body slowly as he responds, ‘Not many earthlings would agree with you. There’s a reason why I so often assume my other form.’

Your brow furrows at his comment, feeling angry that anyone could ever think such a thing about the handsome alien on top of you. ’I’m sorry that you’ve encountered so many hateful humans. I’d say that we’re not all like that, but… most of us are. And even those who aren’t often don’t speak up when they see others being cruel.’

J’onn leans down once again, trapping your body between his strong, green arms, and kisses your collarbone slowly. ‘I believe humans have many redeeming qualities, enough to outweigh the bad. It’s why I do what I do. But I cannot deny how refreshing it feels, connecting with someone like you.’

‘Refreshing isn’t the word I’d use to describe this connection.’ You tell him, leaning back and reveling in how nice his lips feel against your skin.

‘No?’ J’onn asks, hesitating just a little. He can tell you’re enjoying yourself, he can literally feel it. But your comment plants a seed of worry.

‘No, it’s not strong enough. Exhilarating.’ You snake your arms up around his body, holding him closer to you. ‘Amazing, even.’

Relieved, he kisses and nips at your skin with just the right amount of pressure. His abilities give him an advantage, quickly being able to judge your reactions as he gets to know what you like. His mouth trails down, now kissing the tops of your breasts as they peek out from your bra.

‘If my mouth alone can bring you this much euphoria, I am eager to show you what else I can do.’ He says back telepathically.

You shiver under his touch, his thoughts getting you itching for more. ‘Do you…? I mean, I know you could, but how…? Is it, like, similar to how humans do it?’

You’re embarrassed at how scrambled your thoughts are as you try to ask if he has a dick or not. You’re not sure how to ask in a way that isn’t awkward, or even offensive. But surely, if there was ever an appropriate time to ask him such a question, it would be now, right?

‘Do not be embarrassed. It’s a fair question. One I’m happy to answer for you.’ J’onn shifts so he’s laying on his side next to you. One hand is stroking your hair, while the other rests on your stomach, rising and falling slightly with your breath. ‘There are many types of intimacy Martian lovers can share together. Not always with the goal of reproduction. Oftentimes, it’s for pleasure. And if that’s the case, I find there isn’t always a need for an additional appendage.’

His hand presses onto your stomach, slipping down under the waistband of your jeans. He unbuckles and unzips your fastenings right away, almost too quickly to makes sense. You look down towards where he’s touching you, and your eyes go wide when you see his hand morphing and flattening to snake down into your panties.

‘I think you’ll find I can be very accommodating to your preferences.’ You feel his fingers brush lightly against the wetness between your legs. ‘And I am eager to learn them all.’

‘J’onn, oh my god…’

With only the slightest pressure, he rubs small, slow circles over your clit. Your lips part in an almost-gasp at how electrifying his touch feels, and J’onn takes the opportunity to resume kissing you.

'You're sensitive, more so than other earth women.' J'onn comments, and you feel a slight pang of jealousy at the thought of him being with other women. You don't dwell on it though, knowing its not fair to be jealous of what's happened in the past. 'Forgive me. It is inappropriate for me to make such comparisons while we are together like this. But you don't need to be jealous. You are, by far, my favorite.'

You smile against his lips, squirming a little under his feather-light touch. Reaching up to trace the ridges on his neck, your lips continue to dance together in perfect sync. 'I’m glad. You're my favorite too, out of all the Martians I've been with.'

You expect him to be amused by your sarcasm, since he's knows that you've never been with an alien before. But J'onn pulls away from the kiss and looks down at your flushed face with a serious look, his fingers slowing.

'I'm the only Martian you'll ever be with.'

The vibe your getting from your connection turns a bit more serious for a moment, before J'onn apologizes once again.

'I... what I mean is, there aren't very many of my kind left.'

J'onn's thoughts wander to his brother, Ma'alefa'ak, and the tone of his thoughts turn almost angry. 'And I would burn them alive before I let them lay a finger on you.'

His sudden shift causes you to tense a little, and you run your hand up and down his neck lovingly in an attempt to diffuse the tension. 'Well, we don't have to think about that right now.' You reassure him, wiggling your hips a little to signal that you want him to continue. 'I'm not interested in anyone else. Earthing or Martian.'

Feeling you squirm causes him to look down at your body again, and he nods in agreement. 'We don't need to think about that... you're correct, I should be thinking about how to get you out of this clothing.'

'I can help with that.'

Relieved that he's not lingering on the topic, you lift your hips up off the bed and shimmy out of your jeans with his help, the clothing quickly tossed aside with your sweater. You reach for your underwear too, pulling them down your legs and kicking them off, all while the Martian observes you with wonder in his eyes. Before you can even settle your weight back onto the mattress, he's caressing your hips and leaning down to place warm kisses on your stomach.

'That feels so nice... your mouth feels so warm.' You're already wet from his attention so far, and having his mouth so close to where you want him the most is making you impatient. But he doesn't make you wait much longer, kissing down your abdomen and shifting down so his elongated head is between your legs. You can sense his eagerness as he takes in the sight of your pussy, marveling at the wetness gathered there.

'It pleases me to see your body already preparing itself for what I want to do to you.' His deep voice echo's in your mind and causes you to blush even deeper than you were before.

'I can't help it. You... I mean, I've been wanting to do this for a while.' You think back to him.

J'onn can feel your sincerity. And you can feel his confidence grow at your admission. 'Then, lets not wait any longer.' He closes his eyes as his tongue, which is longer and thinner than a human's, slowly laps at your clit, finally giving you at attention you're craving.

'Oh my- shit, J'onn, I... I...' You let out an audible whimper, smiling and leaning your head back on the pillow as he tastes you for the first time. Your reaction encourages him, easing away the last traces of nervousness he was feeling. His tongue morphs into a slightly different texture to experiment and see what other noises he can coax from you. He has the advantage, being able to hear your thoughts (or more accurately, lack of coherent thoughts) as he tests what you like the most. You extend your arm down towards him, unsure what your hand is reaching for, but before you can worry about it any, J'onn's hand finds yours, and his long fingers interlock with your own. His other hand is wrapped around your thigh, caressing your stomach and hip as he eats you out. It only adds to the steady heat building inside of you, but for some reason, you feel a nagging thought of insecurity at how exposed you are before him.

'You have no reason to feel insecure.' You hear him reassure you as his tongue rubs against your sensitive nub, sending tingles down your legs. 'Your body is beautiful.' He squeezes your hand a little, and uses his other to rub circles against your hip bone. 'Seeing you like this is arousing me.'

"F-fuck!" You cry out loud when he morphs his tongue to a slightly different shape and texture, which makes the friction feel that much sweeter. It makes it hard to remember what you were worried about just seconds ago.

'I think I found your sweet spot. Lets see how much you can handle.'

Moments later, the pace with which his tongue is moving against your wet skin increases, along with an increase of pressure, that has your legs quivering and your fingers clenching around his own. 'I... I can... ohhh fuck, y-yes, just like that...'

His unfiltered access to your thoughts would embarrass you if he wasn't making you feel so good, your thighs clenching around his head, biting your lip, feeling your body tense and relax as he brings you to life. His large red eyes are closed while savoring you and responding to your feedback, both audible and inaudible. It's like he already knows your body, even though you've never gone this far with him before today.

'So sensitive... I'll have to keep that in mind.' You can tell from the tone of his thoughts that he is pleased with himself, and rightfully so. After several minutes of his enthusiastic attention, your breathing gets shallower, your cheeks are more flushed, and your eyes are unfocused as you clench around nothing, grinding your pelvis against the aliens magic tongue and lips.

You groan out with a shudder, 'More... more, please, J'onn... I want more of you...'

As soon as your thoughts echo into his consciousness, J'onn is already responding. His tongue lowers to your entrance, licking up your wet skin slowly, savoring you. You can tell from your mind touch that he's enjoying your taste, an unexpected but welcome compliment. Feeling his textured tongue against your cunt has you reeling, more incoherent thoughts litter your mind and cause the Martian to smile against you as he slips it into your tight wet heat.

It’s even better than you imagined. He morphs and extends his tongue so it can reach all the way inside of you, lapping at your cervix and teasing your insides.

"Mmmmm.... oh..... fuck, how are you..." Your words come spilling out of your mouth, out of habit more than anything. You can't help it. The sensations you're feeling from him are making the tension in your lower abdomen build, causing you to squirm and write under him even more.

'Don't worry about the how, beautiful one. Just relax for me.'

No sex toy has ever given you the sensation's you're feeling now. No human has ever made you feel these feelings. You feel like you're ready to burst when J’onn’s tongue rubs against your g-spot, trying not to wiggle too much or throw off his rhythm. Just when you feel like your release is moments away, J'onn slows his attention, and removes his tongue so it can find its home back on your clit.

'Wha...? Why? I was close, J'onn, why did you stop?’ You whimper out loud as you ask him.

'I know you were.’ He looks up at you from between your legs, blinking his dark red eyes at you. ‘But I wish to delay your gratification, to make your climax more intense.'

You let go of his hand, untangling your fingers and looking down at him, running your hand along his cheek gently, blushing at how wet his smooth green skin is from eating you out.

'Not fair.' You whine, but you smile as you do, your mind racing with the realization that he's into edging. And with him being able to see into your mind, you're sure it makes him that much better at it, being able to read your thoughts and feel your emotions, able to tell when you're close and pulling away just in time.

He returns your grin with one of his own. 'You find the idea pleasurable as well.' Its not a question, but a statement.

'I do. But, I still don't know,' You prop yourself up onto your elbows, still flushed and frustrated from your almost-orgasm. 'How do I make you feel good? I don't want tonight to be all about me. I want it to be for both of us.'

'I will show you, beauty, in due time. I am in agreement that tonight should be for us both. But I must insist, ladies first.'

The hand that was tangled with yours moments ago moves between your legs, tracing your labia gently as his tongue finds its rhythm against your most sensitive spot once again.

You close your eyes, feeling your brain melting into mush when his long fingers prod at your entrance, slipping in easy with how much slick your body has produced already.

‘J’onn, please. I want… I want…’

‘I know what you want.’ He responds. His thoughts have a confident, almost proud tone. ‘You want me to fuck you with my fingers. You want to be full of me. Is that right?’

He asks, but he already knows. And it’s only confirmed at the wave of relief and affirmative thoughts that come spilling from your mind after his question.

He starts slow, with two fingers pumping in and out of you in tandem with the pace of his tongue. You clench around him, almost involuntarily, gripping his shoulders and humming in excitement.

‘That's it, beautiful, just let go… I’ve been looking forward to this. Many nights I’ve thought of you, wondering what you taste like, imagining the noises you’d make. You’re even sweeter than I’ve imagined.’

At the same time he shares this with you, your vision blurs, and you see brief flashes across your vision of yourself through J’onn’s eyes, starting with the first time he saw you. That and several other memories of the two of you play like a montage across your field of vision as he continues to pleasure you, showing you how he sees you. Your first date. Your first kiss. When he took you to the theater, seeing you in a floor length gown for the first time. More memories, all seen through his adoring eyes.

It’s a peculiar experience, you don’t quite look the way you expect yourself to. It’s different than how you look in the mirror, almost as if he's showing you a different person. You can feel the affection in his memories, the way he treasures you in his mind makes you feel warm inside, adding to the already intense sensations he’s giving you.

‘J’onn…’

‘I need you to understand how much I care for you. Your beauty, it extends beyond the physical, I want to know you better than any other being does.’

The warmth of his tongue massaging your clit, the soft squelching of his fingers sliding in and out of you, his thoughts and affection filling your mind, it’s all so intense, your eyes water slightly at how amazing he feels. You’re breathless, panting and clinging to him as he showers you with love and attention.

Just when you think it can’t get any better, his fingers start to morph and expand inside of you, growing larger, causing your body to stretch just a little to accept them. The added friction of being stretched sends a warm shiver down your legs and you shudder again at how good it all feels.

You try to stay off your impending climax, knowing he will slow down once you get close. But he interrupts that thought the moment it materializes in your brain.

‘Don’t worry about that. Just let yourself feel me. You’ll get your release eventually, beauty, that I promise you. Allow me to be in control. It will be worth your while.’

‘Fuck, J’onn, it… I… you… you feel… so good, it’s so good.’

‘Yes, I know. I can sense it from our connection. Your ecstasy is my own, I can feel all of you. Tell me, beautiful, do you trust me?’

‘Yes!’ You respond without hesitation, ‘With my life, J’onn, I… ohhh…’

Your thoughts quickly delve back into the incoherent, as he works his fingers just a little faster, adjusting the angle slightly to test what will make you squirm even more. You can feel his satisfaction at your responses, his own emotions and feelings spilling into your own, the line between his thoughts and your own becoming less and less defined.

J’onn takes his time with you. It’s clear he’s here for the journey just as much as the destination as he brings you to the brink of orgasm over and over, not allowing you to fully experience the sweet release, reducing you to a needy, babbling mess under him by the time he’s denied you a fourth time. You try to keep yourself from begging, but when the Martian finally pulls his mouth away from your sweet cunt to take in the state of you, you lose all shame.

‘J’onn, please, I can’t take much more, I need you, please, I want to cum.’

His dark red eyes twinkle with desire. Your begging for him has his pulse racing and his own lust clouding his mind. You can feel it, how badly he wants you. The unmistakable comfort of reciprocated feelings, to love and be loved in return.

‘Yes, you’ve waited long enough.’

J’onn adjusts his body so he’s on top of you, trailing kisses up your abdomen and nuzzling his face against your breasts, and you can sense that he wants your bra out of the way.

You attempt to reach behind you to unclasp it, but your body is trembling and weak from overstimulation, making it harder than it should be. It takes only a moment before strong green hands are assisting you, tossing your bra aside into the growing pile of clothing next to your bed.

He doesn’t hesitate to explore your naked chest, nuzzling his nose against your plush breasts, licking at and teasing your hard nipples, earning another deep shudder from you. Your hands run over the back of his otherworldly head, hoping he cannot hear how loudly your heart is beating.

J’onn’s excitement is palpable. You can taste it, feel it, feeding into and strengthening your own arousal. His alien tongue rubs against one nipple with his fingers teasing the other. You throw your head back against your pillow and let out a long, desperate moan, not caring how pathetic you sound. You’ve never felt so turned on in your life. You want him. You aren’t even sure how you want him, your messy mind briefly remembering him say how he doesn’t have need for another ‘appendage.’

‘It’s not a necessity. Not unless procreation is the goal.’ He responds to your frantic thoughts. ‘But just because it isn’t necessary, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy you in such a way. I can tell you crave more penetration.’

J’onn starts slowly grinding his hips into yours, allowing you to feel the bulge as it morphs between his legs. He abandons your chest to kiss your neck, rolling his hips into yours eagerly. He doesn’t enter you, not yet, but you can feel the hard, ribbed erection sliding over your body’s natural lubrication and teasing your sensitive clit.

Another pained whimper escapes your lips. ‘Please… please…’

‘Hearing you beg, it pleases me more than you know. Your patience will be rewarded.’ Another slow kiss is left of your neck before he sits up on his knees, allowing you to take in the sight of him, and what he’s been hiding from you.

Between his legs, where there was just smooth skin and muscle before, is your first look at Martian genitalia. It’s not completely different from a human male, but more… embellished. His shaft is long and ribbed with small ridges (much like the rest of his body), and it’s a shade or two darker than the rest of his green skin. It has a slight curve to it, and is thicker than any penis you’ve seen, but not excessively so. The tip is rounded and swollen, and you feel a rush of excitement, assuming you're the reason why there's a few small drops of liquid leaking out already. He has testicles as well, hanging low and heavy beneath his impressive erection. He doesn't have any pubic hair, but there isn't hair anywhere else on his body, either. You drink in the sight of him, wide-eyed, practically salivating in anticipation.

‘I could shift so it closer resembles what you’re used to, but I have a feeling you like what you see. Is my feeling correct?’ He asks, smirking at you, reveling in the lust and affection he sees in your watery eyes.

‘I want you, J’onn. The real you. Don’t change for me, you don’t have to.’

You surprise yourself by stringing together a coherent sentence. But it’s true, you’re itching to see what it feels like to have him inside of you. Not his fingers, but him. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, but it’s not too large that you’re nervous about it fitting. You don’t care if it’s uncomfortable at first, he’s got you so warmed up and wet that you’re sure you can make it work.

‘This is my natural size, but I can make myself smaller or larger according to your preferences. We can start smaller at first, as you get used to me.’

You barely register his thoughts, reaching out in wonder to touch him, curiosity killing you. The moment your hand wraps around his length, you feel his own thoughts become clouded like yours. You run your fingers over the ribbed shaft, biting your lip and imagining how good it will feel sliding in and out of you, him filling you up with his cum.

A low moan rumbles in his chest, and you quickly retract your hand, embarrassed that he heard that last thought.

‘No room for that, beautiful. There’s no embarrassment or shame between us. I won’t tolerate it.’ J’onn reaches down to stroke himself a few times, and positions himself on top of you once again. His hand is next to your head, holding himself up so he can kiss you without crushing you. His lips move slowly, giving you a taste of yourself as his alien tongue dances with your own, making another rush of heat creep into your cheeks.

He stills his mind for a moment before he enters you. You feel him check himself, scanning your mind for any hesitation or reluctance, making sure that the emotions he senses from you aren’t just a projection of his own.

‘You won’t find any.’ You reassure him, ‘I want you. Please… I don’t want to wait any longer. Make love to me, J’onn, I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to wait. I want you, I promise, please?’

Your begging spikes a fresh wave of lust in his body, you feel it almost as intensely as he does. This time he’s the one shuddering from arousal, and he bites at your lower lip in response.

‘Your words… your mind… turns me on even more than your body does.’ His hips shift forward slightly, meeting little resistance as he sinks his tip inside of your leaking pussy. ‘I could get lost here, with you, the sweet embrace of your consciousness is unlike any connection I’ve ever experienced.’

You can’t believe how eloquent his thoughts are when he’s this worked up. Your mind is mush at this point, fixated on how his cock is slowly filling you up and stretching you out, feeling every ridge and bump, massaging your already sensitive walls slowly as he sinks deeper with each gentle thrust.

An intense tingle travels up your spine. You’re unable to comprehend how surreal this is. When you first met J’onn, you felt drawn to him right away. But you never imaged he would feel the same, never imagined you’d be here with him like this, in your bed, your bodies and minds becoming one. It fills you with so much happiness, you feel as if you could burst, and with what little control you still have over your thoughts, you try to show him how he looks through your eyes, like he did for you just before.

J’onn’s expression softens when he realizes what you’re trying to do. He feels the happiness and excitement radiating from you mind, and it makes his chest swell with pride. He keeps your lips locked against his while you show him, all the times you’ve gazed at him longingly, admiring him from afar, suppressing your desire for him and trying to play it cool.

But your focus falters when he finally bottoms out inside of you. Your fingernails dig into his broad back, breaking the kiss and burying your face in his neck. ‘Holy shit, you.. it… fuck, J’onn, I..’

You move your lips, peppering slow, hungry kisses against his warm skin, trying to express with your body what your mind can’t articulate.

But he knows.

He feels it too.

Your ecstasy is his own. And his is yours. Two minds, connected and joined as one, mirroring your physical connection. He is everywhere. You feel him deep inside your body and your consciousness. And yet, you crave more. You want more of him. You long to know him deeper, to experience every part of him and appreciate all he is.

Your name is the only word that can be heard from J’onn’s mind. This is every bit as intense for him as it is for you, evident from his labored breathing and how strong his hold on you is.

You’re unsure how long the two of you stay like that, not yet moving, just allowing yourselves to grow used to the feeling of each other. But when J’onn finally withdraws his hips from yours, pulling out of you almost all the way, you’re more than ready.

'You feel... so divine... the way you squeeze me...'

His ribbed cock sinks back into you slowly, your slick dripping down onto your duvet. It isn’t like anything you’ve experienced before, better than any human man or dildo has ever felt. And as you ponder this, J’onn’s confidence grows ever stronger, and so does his pace.

With your face still buried against his neck, you nibble on his skin, temped to bite down to keep yourself from crying out in pleasure from how he's rubbing against all the right places inside of you. He's large enough that you're body is stretching to accommodate him, but not enough to be painful.

‘Y-You may bite, if you wish. You can scream, if you need to. Just don’t… don’t hold back.’

His thoughts are becoming less coherent and more like yours now. You bite on his neck, not nearly hard enough to break his impenetrable skin, but enough to provide you some relief.

J’onn finds it adorable, that you still refrain from biting too hard, as if you’re capable of hurting him.

‘Don’t hold back.’ He repeats. ‘P-please, beauty, you couldn’t make me bleed if you tried. Just… let go. It’s time I give you what you’ve been craving.’

His hips roll into yours faster, assaulting your g-spot with his ribbed cock over and over until you’re seeing stars. You whimper and moan, biting down hard into the strong muscles of his shoulder, clinging to him like he’s the only thing holding you down to this reality. You feel every inch of him, your pussy squeezing him and sucking him in like a vice.

Your bliss isn’t one-sided. J’onn, usually so composed and proper, is crumbling at how reactive you are to his affection, his breaths coming out uneven and broken, deep moans and grunts falling from his mouth as the two of you get utterly lost in each other.

You release his neck from your bite, moaning his name out loud over and over, echoing the thoughts in your mind. You're close. You’re close for the 5th time this evening, and it’s driving you absolutely feral with need. You're scared that he will pull away again, so you allow yourself to beg and hold him tight, wanting to ensure he won't make you wait anymore.

‘… fuck, J’onn, I’m close… please… let me cum, please let me finish, I need-’

‘I know what you need.’ He reassures you, pulling your face from his neck, guiding you to his lips again. ‘You’ve let me tease you and toy with you plenty, I won’t… won’t withhold your release from you any longer.’ He sounds strained, as if it’s taking great effort for him to make sense of his thoughts while he’s rutting into your tight warmth.

His trembling hand brushes your messy hair from your forehead, no longer in the sleek style you had it in at the start of your evening together. ‘If I may… let me just…’

His index finger taps at your temple, and your vision is blurred once again. But it’s different than how it was earlier, when he shared his vision of you. Now, your bedroom has disappeared completely, and is replaced with a beautiful starry sky, the milky way showing itself in all its glory. You no longer feel your bed beneath you. Instead, you feel as if you’re floating, suspended in deep space, nothing tangible around you except for your lover and the stars, which seem closer than you’ve ever seen them. J’onn’s arms wrap around your back, and he kisses you deeply, feeling you clench and spasm around him as your climax approaches.

‘Where the fuck… how… oh my gods, I can’t, it’s… oh, shit, J’onn!!’

He’s pulling out all the stops now, showing off his abilities to you in an attempt to make this experience even more memorable.

He’s close too. You can feel it. He’s holding out, waiting so he can experience his orgasm at the same time as you, struggling with it due to the lewd sounds of wet skin filling his ears, combined with your moans and breathy whimpers. But he keeps his pace consistent even, not wanting to soil this for you again.

It doesn’t take much longer. Your eyes water, blurring the immaculate expanse of stars above you. You feel your body release more dampness around his thick cock as he thrusts into you, legs wrapped around his waist and arms thrown around his neck. The tension that’s been building between your legs finally explodes. At the same time, a star explodes in the distance, bright, brilliant light shining and morphing the scene around you. It’s more intense than any climax you’ve experienced before. The pleasure trickles down your legs like warm honey, making you shake and convulse involuntarily. You yell out, breaking the kiss for a moment before J’onn swallows your cries of pleasure, moaning back into your mouth as his own body shivers.

Your internal muscles clamps down around him, causing his hips to stutter. ‘Thats it, yes… cum for me, yes!’ He tenses, and with a deep grunt, releases his seed deep inside of you, flexing his arms to hold you that much closer. ‘I… feel you, I see you, my beautiful… sweet, sweet lover.’ His hips twitch into yours, giving you a few more half-thrusts to help empty himself. Your name echoes in his mind as he stills, breathing heavily, reeling from the rush of both his orgasm and yours.

The Martian leans his large forehead against your own, pulling his lips from yours, exhaling slowly.

You feel like you’re in another dimension. You might as well be, with the scene he’s projecting around the two of you. The supernova is still happening out of the corner of your eye, brilliant colors and fantastic displays of energy playing out before you. Every cell of your body is alive with sensation, trembling and tingling, your muscles like jello under the Alien still inside you.

J’onn smiles, eyes still closed, keeping his arms around you and his arousal buried deep. You run your fingertips lightly over his back, absentmindedly, reeling and basking in the waves of pleasure still coursing through your body as your cunt clenches and spasms around him, hypersensitive and reactive to his slightest movement.

‘That was-’

‘Mind-blowing.’ you finish his thought for him, surprising yourself at how quickly you knew what he was going to say.

The two of you stay tangled like this, floating a few feet above your bed, J’onn still projecting the deep space view around the two of you, breathing deep and enjoying the closeness of both body and soul. He’s warm and feverish from his performance, and you’re covered is a light sheen of perspiration. You feel at peace. Safe, exhausted, and satisfied beyond what you thought was possible.

Your sentiments are reflected in J’onn’s mind as well, but neither of you put any more tangible thought to what you’re feeling right now. You’re both content with just existing here together. Eventually, he does lower the two of you back on to your bed, and allows the scene to fade, soon being replaced by your own dreams as you drift off with him still inside of you. He doesn’t break your psychic link. He keeps it, strong as ever, wanting nothing more than to spend the night basking in the warmth of your beautiful mind.

⭓ if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! 💜👽🖤

#whaaaaAAAAT #this is so good!!! I love you op...#nsfw #dc #martian manhunter

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justficsiguess · 17 days

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isn't it insane that martian manhunter can literally change the size of his dick? like he could literally, if he wanted to, just change the size of his dick mid-fuck and split you in half. i really just think that's absolutely insane.

-🍃

MINORS DNI 18+

“Forgive me. I’m… unaccustomed to human.” J’ONN J’ONZZ miraculously forms a sentence through the constraints of pleasure. Sweetly rocking into you at a snail’s pace as if it reserve a little time to recuperate and gather his bearings. You had no idea that he’d be this beside himself, keeping your legs spread nice for him with your hands tucked in the crooks of your knees.

“Take your time.” you exhale with a proud curl to your lips. It’s flattering to say the least that you’re his first here on Earth, and he can’t wrap his head around what you feel like. Not to mention his length is obviously shaped unlike anything you’ve had before, the only similarity you can compose is a Bad Dragon dildo you ordered for its unique figure.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” A mildly uneasy question, conveying his nervousness. “You are secreting.” he notes aloud, and casually ruts to test the new lubricant.

“Oh, yeah. It just helps me take in something a little bigger that’s all.” you respond, winded from the effort of it all. It’s unusual how clinical he can be during intimacy, but you try to take it in stride. Answering is a matter of satisfying his curiosity, which you now realize is driving his actions when you feel a peculiar sensation inside you. Not only is more length being introduced, but girth too. He picks up his pace with a groan, rolling his taut abdomen to lick the inside of you with his cock. “I— Woah, what?" In short, you're bewildered, rocking with each of his thrusts into you, your suspended legs bobbing.

"Do you like it?" he asks, clawing into the pillow under your head as he hovers over you. You're speechless, your jaw hanging open with various "Oh"s spilling out of it. "You cannot imagine a tighter space…" he hisses, willing his dick to grow. As a shapeshifter, he was not aware that size could alter an already mind-blowing sensation to an all new level of ecstasy for both parties.

"Oh— fuck, J'onn, I didn't even think of that—" you gasp and you arch your back, letting ease into fucking you deeper than you've ever been touched before.

#fuck yeah thank you J'onn for Biggest Dick 🫡#nsfw #dc #martian manhunter

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justficsiguess · 17 days

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The Wolf Moon comes; the town shutters.

Fathers guard the door of familial homes, weapons sharpened, ready. Once, a man managed to save his daughter — a vicious fight that lasted nearly the whole night. He lost his left leg, and his right eye. No one else who went up against a beast ever made it out alive. The most anyone can do is pray that a beast doesn’t darken their door, that they won’t be spirited away, devoured.

You never really stood a chance. An orphan, alone, in your shack at the outskirts of town. The lock on your door barely even works.

No one would miss you — that’s why they don’t protect you. They’ll probably just be glad it wasn’t them.

You don’t scream as the creature rips the door right off its hinges. You don’t kick or bite as it hefts you into its huge, furry arms. It skulks through the tall grass fields, into the woods, and you shiver against its warm body, like a deer brought to ground. Submissive, doomed.

It brings you to a small alcove, a relief in the rocky cliff side. It settles in the shadows, with you curled in it’s lap. You don’t look at its terrible face as it pants, nosing against your throat. You feel the softest insinuation of teeth against your skin. You don’t beg.

You brace for pain, for death.

Dawn comes, first.

You’re nearly delirious from exhaustion, from terror. You feel the beast shift. You feel it’s body grow smaller, wrap tighter around you.

When you finally meet it’s gaze, you’re looking into the face of a man. A human.

“Morning,” he says, voice graveled. “Shall we head home, darling?

#yes please #yandere #sfw

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justficsiguess · 22 days

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Love is the Honey [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: Love is the Honey [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: You were kidnapped by Chrollo Lucilfer, and truth be told, things aren’t exactly terrible. You don’t have to worry about bills or paying for groceries or appeasing a shitty boss. It’s come at the price of your freedom, but it might be worth it. There’s only one thing you can’t accept, and it’s the one thing Chrollo won’t stop trying.

word count: 5417

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader

Outside, the city lights are all whites and reds and greens, twinkling and glistening amidst the darkness of the night sky. But from up here, you hear nothing of the bustling night outside.

No sounds of half drunk friends giggling with arms linked, traveling from bar to restaurant and back to bar again. No car horns laid upon by impatient drivers, eager to get home after a long day at work. No quarrels, no compliments, no queries about what you’re doing later tonight.

Nothing at all.

Up here, in this hotel room, there is only you and the quiet hum of the air conditioner–and of course, Chrollo. Better known as your kidnapper, who is (at least for the moment) blissfully quiet. Minus the sounds of turning book pages, but those hardly register. Not when you’re absorbed in your own book, and not when you take a break and stare out the window at the city below.

#oh my god they were roommates...#yandere #chrollo #hxh

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justficsiguess · 25 days

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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

TW: angst, fighting, discussion of nsfw topics

The alcohol you ingested certainly does not help with your coordination. You nearly bump into several club-goers, as if you are a salmon struggling to make your way up stream. You feel as though you can’t breathe, your skin crawling on your bones.

Once you finally burst out the doors you gasp for breath, grateful for the outside, if not polluted, air. You do not stop moving, your feet mindlessly carrying you down the sidewalk, away. All you can think, is that you want to get away.

You don’t really pay attention to your surroundings in your manic dash. Julian’s face keeps flashing in your mind. Of all the men in your life who had hurt you, none of them had been half so beguiling as Julian. None of them so fucking clever at hiding the monster inside.

You have been a fly caught in his web, baited by his puppy dog eyes and his kindness in his doctor’s persona–you cannot understand how that man can share the same body with the dom who literally licked your blood from your palm earlier, and loved it. He lured you but now you know the only way you can be intimate with that man is through playing dangerous games with his darker side. Maybe some of them you could have enjoyed, but this? He would tease you with the crumbs of his sweetness, his kisses and caresses, but he would make you pay for them with your pain, your blood, and your submission.

It can only end in your ruin.

You would destroy yourself, trying to heal this man, while he just kept taking pieces out of you and swallowing them whole.

As your feet slow you look around, and you realize you have no fucking idea where you are.

Well done, you fucking little idiot. Filled with crippling despair, you sink to the cracked concrete curb, ruining the seat of your silk dress, hanging your head in your hands. Asking Julian to take you home is out of the question. You can’t really afford a taxi. You could call an Uber, but the thought of getting in a car with a total stranger right now makes you feel ill. And you are way too drunk to try to navigate the Byzantine bus system of LA.

You stare at your phone, and your fingers swipe and tap of their own volition, as though to say we know what to do, you messy bitch. The phone only rings twice before a familiar, deep voice comes over the line. “Hey baby.”

“Tom?”

“What’s wrong?”

The sleepy warmth in his tone immediately sharpens, and the fact that he hears the distress in your voice after just one word fills you with a relief that maybe you have no right to.

“Can you come get me?”

“Yes. Where are you?”

You laugh a little at that, a brittle sound you have not heard in your own voice in a long time. “I don’t know?” Your voice cracks, your throat tight, on the verge of tears. “I’m somewhere in Venice.”

There’s a silence on the other end that communicates he has an inkling of what you’ve been up to. “Are you hurt?” There’s an undertone of something dangerous in his question, but you don’t think it’s directed at you.

“No. Just…” Scared. Embarrassed. Stupid. Heartbroken. Drunk.

You can’t bring yourself to say any of these things aloud. You settle for, “Lost.”

It was the understatement of the century.

“Ok, honey. I’m on my way. Tell me what you see.”

You describe your surroundings as best you can, and it’s enough for this man who knows this city like the back of his hand. He has you stay on the line, asking you little questions you hardly even think about the answers you give. You’re in a different place, in your mind, and like the forever original creature that you are, you sit there and cry quietly while Tom tries to keep you talking. Meanwhile, you cannot stop picturing Julian’s face, the hunger in his eyes as he watched that poor girl being lit on fire.

By the time you hear the bass growl of Tom’s Charger swing up to the curb, you don’t know how long it’s been, only that you’re grateful for the sight. Moments later he’s kneeling in front of you, his big hands cradling your tear-streaked face like you are something precious and breakable.

At least the last part is true.

“Y/n? You ok, sweet girl?” He wipes your tears with his thumb, sweeping your damp hair back from your face. You can only imagine how terrible you must look. Waterproof mascara has its limits.

Bravely you nod, though your chin quivers tellingly. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come for you, y/n,” he tells you with a frown, and goddammit if you don’t believe him. He’s looking you over, inspecting you for damage you’re too in shock or too embarrassed to disclose. When he finds the bandage on your hand his expression turns murderous. “What the fuck is this?”

“I cut myself,” you assure him, certain that if you don’t convince this dangerous man of the truth, Julian’s not days, but hours, are numbered. “With scissors. Opening a plant.”

Tom narrows his eyes, glaring down at the bandage like he’s not sure he believes you. “What happened then? Why are you out here alone like this?”

“Julian wanted to show me the club,” you try to answer as vaguely as possible. “But I…couldn’t handle it.” You shake your head, unable to meet his eyes. He wants to hurt you. Julian had outright told you so, but somehow before tonight, maybe you didn’t really believe him.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Tom asks, his voice low and pointedly gentle. You realize, a beat later, that he’s asking if you need a rape kit. You never imagined, for some reason, that this man could be as equally gentle with victims as he is harsh with perps. That warms your heart for some reason.

You shake your head slowly. “No, nothing like that.”

He searches your face with those sharp black eyes, and you imagine that stare is probably just as effective as a lie detector. You almost didn’t even register it, maybe because it feels so natural, but his hands are on you. His hands have been on you this entire time, and his touch makes you feel anchored, like just maybe you won’t get blown away in this shitstorm.

He looks at the matching bangles around your wrists next, the thin bands of gold bearing Julian’s monogram in that delicate slanted script.

“Fucking asshole, really thinks he owns you,” Tom growls, sliding one from your hand, and crushing the soft high karat gold in his fist.

“Hey.” Your protest is half hearted at best, and all you do is watch as he does the same to the other one, bending it beyond recognition. Destroying the precious little objects that weighed on your wrists with such heavy meaning seems to make him feel better.

Maybe you feel lighter too.

“Trade ‘em at a pawn shop for scrap value, honey. That’s all they’re good for.”

“They were Tiffany,” you tell him with a half smile and a raised eyebrow.

“They were Bullshit & Co, baby girl.” He might just be right about that. “Didn’t really think you cared about stuff like that?”

You shrug, because you don’t, but you’d never owned anything so fine. The novelty of it was enchanting, but maybe the real price for them was far too high.

“Can you take me home?” You think you probably look as pathetic as you sound.

He nods, pulling you to your feet with those strong hands, lifting you like you weigh nothing. You lean on him, more than you have to, and it takes all your self control not to wrap your arms around his solid torso and not let go. You realize, this is the first time all night you actually feel safe. “I’ve got you, honey. Come on.”

He walks you to the passenger side of the Charger, tucking you down into the seat, even fussing over the seatbelt. “I can do it,” you tell him softly with a brittle smile. You only see it for a flash of a second, but the rawness in his expression wipes that stupid smile right off your face. You realize that he was scared, for you, and the unlikelihood of it all makes you reach for him.

He freezes as you touch his cheek, your thumb tracing his high cheekbone. Only belatedly do you remember it's the hand with the bandage, because you really have had too much to drink, and you start to withdraw. Not before he turns to press his lips to your palm, his hand dwarfing yours. “You’re safe now. Alright?”

You nod, and your heart hammers in your chest as his gaze drops for a telling moment to your lips. In this vulnerable, inebriated state, safely ensconced in his car, you decide there’s nothing you would like more than to kiss Tom Ludlow, your unlikely knight in shining armor. It seems like the least you can do. You even start to lean towards him, but with a small growl he’s suddenly gone, shutting your door, and striding around to the driver's side. You almost can’t believe it.

But then again, you’re a fucking mess. Why would he want to kiss you?

Julian chooses this moment to start blowing up your phone. You send it to voicemail. As Tom pulls away, the Hemi snarling down the streets of Venice, your doctor demands,

WHERE ARE YOU?!

In answer you tap out, I can’t do this, Julian. I’m sorry. I left. You look over at Tom, a small warmth blooming in your chest, before adding, I’m safe.

Julian tries to keep talking to you, but you decide to just turn off your phone entirely, tossing it down on the floormat with your little clutch purse.You close your eyes, and sit back in the seat. Even then, you can feel Tom looking over at you.

You don’t know where you get the courage to speak, except maybe it’s just the liquid kind, and you’ll really regret it in the morning. “You’re a smart guy, Tom. Maybe you can tell me. What is it about me, that makes men want to hurt me? My whole fucking life…” Your courage does fail you then, and your mouth snaps shut.

There’s the regret. You knew it was there somewhere.

“Honey…” He reaches for you, engulfing your hand in his catcher’s mitt of a paw, squeezing. “I’ve seen a lot of bad shit over the years as a cop. The world is full of assholes. It’s full of evil. Maybe even more than good. It’s not your fault, when it finds you. Ok?”

You nod silently, but you still can’t help but think you’re like a fucking magnet for it. Julian had seemed like such a nice guy, but it turns out he literally wants to beat you with sticks–and maybe light you on fire? A bit of a roué. The understatement of the century.

And Tom seemed like an insufferable alpha asshole, but here he is, saving your ass when you had no one else to turn to.

Maybe the real lesson of the night is that you can’t trust your own judgment at all.

You feel Tom looking over at you again, that evaluating gaze that you fear misses nothing. “You sure he didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head again. “He just…wanted to,” you admit. “He told me about it. That’s as far as it got.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hand again, and you can’t help yourself from looking down at it in your lap, and imagining what it would be like if he slid those long fingers up your thigh, and into your panties while driving this powerful machine at breakneck speed down the road. His voice breaks you from your fantasy, leaving you blinking from the brightness of the passing headlights. “Look. Maybe that shit is all done up as something safe with all its rules and consenting adults and blah blah blah, but I’m a cop, and I know an abuser when I see one. If a man cares about you, he shouldn’t want to hurt you. Ok? Don’t let him mindfuck you, baby girl. Stay away from him. You don’t owe him anything, and he doesn’t own you.”

“You think you own me. By that logic, shouldn’t I stay away from you too?”

He gives your thigh a little possessive squeeze. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Maybe you’re a horrible judge of character, and maybe you should just listen to yourself every once in a while and stop getting into these situations, and maybe you’re just fucking stupid, but you believe Tom Ludlow. You believe him with every part of you.

“Well, you’re sorta.” A big hiccup cuts off the middle of your sentence, and you cover your mouth. Oh, that’s how you absolutely know you’re too inebriated for your own good.

Tom laughs. “Sorta what? Mean? Domineering? Bull headed?”

“Cocky,” you add, using the hand on your mouth to cover your smile. Somehow, this man has already managed to cheer you up a little.

“You can be dominant without hurting someone,” he tells you, tapping the side of your thigh with one chunky finger. You twitch a little bit, and it spreads a big grin on his face. The temptation exists to grab his hand and guide it right under the skirt of the dress, but you’re sadly not that drunk.

“Maybe…I need a demonstration?”

He looks so handsome when you catch him off guard, that rugged eyebrow quick and easy, raising in either confusion, humor, or a little bit of both. “Maybe I need to have dinner with you.”

Nope. No more dates. No more, says panicking sober brain.

“I was thinking maybe we just… skip the date?”

“Why? So you can avoid all those feelings you have about me? This might surprise you, but I’m not much for one night stands.”

Really? Fucking really? All his sexual innuendos and suggestions and poking and prodding and he’s suddenly the Virgin Mary?

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, unable to hide your anger. Alcohol. It does wonders. And horrors.

“I’d like to fuck you more than once, honey.”

“I’m not saying it would only be once.”

“Oh? And then the rest of the time, when we’re not fucking, you avoid me and ignore my calls?” Impenetrable Tom Ludlow seems a bit annoyed. Meanwhile, you are internally melting at his words. A man that wants to do more than just fuck you? Take advantage of you? Tom wants you? Fucking asshole. For making you feel…special. Wanted. Even if it is true.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What?” His anger makes you flinch.

You knock his hand off your thigh. “I said, I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you would if you’d give me a chance.”

“You don’t take no for an answer.”

“Because I like you, and I’m not stupid enough to let you go.” Your internal monologue is screaming, resist. You’ve heard this shit before.

That’s the mantra.

You’ve heard it before.

“You just don’t get it.”

“Because you won’t let me. For Christ’s sake, it’s just one date. You wanna act all tough, but if you ask me, you’re being a coward.”

His words hurt, and you shrink back from the deep bite of his tone. He must notice the withdrawal, because he’s reaching over to touch your cheek, to soothe you, to tame you easily with that big, warm touch.

You smack him away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby.” His voice is soft, now, and fuck him for plucking every single one of your heart strings with it.

“No. Just let me out. I’ll walk home. I’ll call a fucking Uber.”

“You’re not getting out of this car until I watch you walk into your apartment.”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“No, but I’m bigger, stronger, and have double locks on these doors, so you’re getting home safe whether you like it or not.”

So you stew in your frustration for the rest of the ride home, your arms crossed like a petulant child. When he pulls up to your apartment building you remember that you had not, in fact, told him where you live.

“How do you know where I live? See, this is why I didn’t go on a date with you. It’s weird that you know where I live. I didn’t even tell you, and you think I’m the one who’s doing something wrong here? You’re a real piece of work, Tom.” You’re babbling, rambling, trying to restrain drops of salty liquid from falling down your face and failing horribly.

He turns toward you, calm and despondent. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

This is the second time he’s said sorry to you since the day you met him. No, maybe the third. He just swings that word around like he does his badge, and it’s so strange. People do not say sorry to you. That apologetic roll is usually yours and yours alone, and here he is just… Just saying it? Why does it piss you off even more?

You get out of the car, slam the door shut, and punch the security buttons for your complex. It's only after you’re safely inside that Tom drives away.

#this fic is SO GOOOD #logically i know she should get away from them both #but deep in my heart i need them to have a threesome. sorry.#but also wtf Julian... the burning girl was a bit much for a small introduction into bdsm...#come ON... he must have known that that was too much too fast... smh...#Tom is still an asshole but this chapter he felt safer at least 👍#nsfw

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justficsiguess · 28 days

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je nais sais quoi

hey guys, girls, and gays. thanks.

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine , part ten, part eleven, part twelve, part thirteen, part fourteen , part fifteen, part sixteen, part seventeen, part eighteen, part nineteen

"Fuckin' stupid, putting it this high up, this is an accident waiting to happen," You mutter under your breath, fingers just grazing the bag of cat food on the top shelf. You step up on your tip toes, the shelf gets no closer. Stepping up onto the shelf helps, giving you another 3 inches, and you grab a corner of the bag, letting out a triumphant noise.

"Gotcha!" 3 inches too many, it seems, as it all gives way and you crash back to the floor, eighteen pound bag of cat food clutched tightly to your chest. You're staring into the fluorescent lights when a sharply manicured hand pops into view.

"Need a hand? I saw your valiant struggle against that dastardly-placed food."

You lift your head and look up. An extremely attractive woman with looks down at you and smiles, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. You shift the food to the floor beside you and take her hand. "Uh yea, thanks. God, that's embarrassing that you saw that. I would've preferred to have been crushed under the food, actually."

She laughs. She laughs? Your brain short-circuits. "Well, you recover nicely, I'll give you that. What's the name that would've been on the obituary?" You giver her your name as you stare at her with wide eyes. Damn, she's good. She nods as though thinking about it. "Selina Kyle. And here, if you ever find yourself trapped under some cat food, and you can move your arms, give a ring, and I'll come over to dig you out. And hey, if you're not too beat-up after that, maybe we could grab dinner."

She hands you a slip of paper with her name and phone number, gives you a wink, and waltzes down the aisle. You stand there for three uninterrupted minutes before you haul the bag of food off of the floor and start calling Alfred's name.

"-and then she gave me her number, unprompted, isn't that fucking crazy?" you ask, shoving the piece of paper in Bruce's face. You'd put away your pet store findings once you'd gotten home and had gone to find him, finding all of this very funny, if baffling. You'd found him reading in the library, book now closed on the arm of his chair.

Bruce takes it, and turns it over carefully. You immediately backpedal. "I mean, I wasn't gonna call her, obviously, what we have is too important to me, and it's going so well, but this has never happened to me before, and I-"

"Selina Kyle is one if my exes. And she knows I'm Batman."

You deflate. "Oh."

Bruce catches the spiral you're going on. "That's not to say she didn't truly find you attractive, that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that it brings up memories for me. Particularly painful ones. Selina and I, we have an incredibly complicated history, one that almost ended in marriage, if only-"

You kneel in front of him and cup his face with your hands. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Or, even if you want to, but can't right now. I'm in it for the long haul, remember?"

Bruce simply nods and rubs your hand with his own, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Another time, then."

Batman stands on a ledge, surveying the city. The night is quiet, surprisingly, given how warm the weather's been. So quiet, that she couldn't hide the taps of her heels if she wanted to.

"Going silent for a bit," Bruce says into his ear piece, then switches it off and turns around. "What do you want, Selina?"

"Oh, can't a girl just enjoy a night out on the town, Batman? Not all of us have such fulfilling careers," she replies, slinking into view from around the door to the roof. "Or relationships, for that matter."

"Did you know from the beginning?" His eye twitches underneath the mask.

"Honest to god, I didn't. I genuinely thought I was just playing the field, until I saw Alfred as I was leaving. That and Harley showed me some tabloids that weren't afraid of getting sued. I gotta say, this is pretty underwhelming, for you. Not a cape, not a villain, hell, not even somebody remotely famous. I'm impressed, I-"

"Don't talk about them like that. This is different. This is-" His hands are tightening under the cape. A master of his own mind and emotions it seems, until it comes to you.

Selina holds up her hands in surrender and smiles coyly. "Relax, B. I'm just here to tell you I'm not stepping into your territory. I'm not stupid enough to try and take something that's yours again." She pulls out a grappling gun and shoots it off into the night. "Just let me know when you're done, 'kay? I wanna take a turn."

She's gone before Bruce can formulate a reply. He switches his comm back on, and starts making plans.

You've been out at the pool entirely too long, Bruce thinks. Like a cat laying in their favorite window, as soon as it had become warm enough, you were out in the gardens, at the pool. You always told him that given the opportunity, you would stay out there all day, but he hadn't quite believed it until it became an inconvenience to his plans. You've been out there for seven hours now, and likely for longer, now that Dick, Steph, Duke, and Jason have joined you.

"Sir, if I may suggest going to them, instead of waiting for them to come to you?" Alfred asks, hands perfectly poised behind his back.

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. "Thank you, Alfred."

He simply nods. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"Depends on how this goes. I'll let you know."

"Quite good, sir."

Bruce makes his way down to the pool, and walks up just in time to see you break the surface in the deep end, much like a polar bear in their enclosure at the zoo. Jason, Steph, Duke, and Dick have a volleyball game going in the shallow end, while Titus lays in the pavement and watches. His heart clenches when you catch his eye.

"Babe, hey! Are you finally gonna join us? The water's great! Steph says it's too cold, but here she is, right? Of course, Tim told us to drop dead when we invited him, but I think that's just because he's too skinny to appreciate how refreshing this cool water is." You swim up to the edge, smiling wide. His other children snicker.

Bruce kneels down by the edge. "Actually, I came to ask you something, would you mind coming up for a second?"

You note the way his smile falters for a millisecond, and how he tightens his hands. He's nervous. Anything that can make the Bat nervous warrants your full attention, you suppose. "Oh, uh, sure, one sec."

You climb up out of the water, and Bruce thinks you look radiant with the late afternoon sun behind you. You join him on the lounge chairs, toweling yourself off carefully. Bruce has never felt anxious until this moment right here. "Okay, big man, shoot."

Bruce clears his throat. "Right. Yes. So, I've been thinking. About our relationship, specifically, and how much it has changed me. Changed us, for the better. I never thought that something like this, given my line of work, would ever be possible, but you seem to have proven me wrong, and gone against every calculation I could have had for our relationship to play out. And it has been the greatest thing to behold, really. I want to deepen our commitment. I want us to commit to each other, despite our problems." Bruce pulls a small box out of his pocket, and flips it open. Sitting in the center are two rings, both with a silver band, but one with a ring of some crushed blue stone inlaid, and another with your favorite color instead of blue. He says your name like it's the first time he's ever said it before. "I love you, will you marry me?"

You immediately stand up, going, "Are you fucking sure?"

His children stare at him in shock, while Alfred simply walks down the pathway, champagne and sparkling grape juice in hand. Bruce's eyebrows start to draw in, and you speak quickly. "Shut up, shut up! I know you're sure, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that, yes! I meant to say yes, sure, whatever! I just, I don't, I've never-"

Bruce shoots up and kisses you. There are stars behind your eyes as you comprehend what's just happened to you, what's going to happen to you, and all you can think about is that you're soaking the front of his shirt right now. Bruce must not realize he's losing himself a little bit, because just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, Dick whistles. The two of you spring apart, Bruce combing a hand through his hair in embarrassment, and you burying your face in your towel. Alfred is already passing flutes of champagne around, and Tim and Damian are tearing down the pathway.

"Father, how could you!" "Bruce, holy fuck!"

Bruce just smiles wider than you've ever seen in your life as he pries your left hand away from the towel, and slips the blue ring onto your finger. Looks just like his eyes, you think as you stare in awe.

The sun starts to dip beneath the horizon as you kiss him again, then slip his ring onto his hand. The thought of announcing it to the press, and having to go out into public with him officially makes you nauseous, but that's a freakout for another time. For now, you kiss your fiancé, then throw down to towel and jump back into the pool to cool your heated face. Everybody yells their indignation, but you just hug yourself at the bottom of the pool, incredulous.

#ok I'm reblogging the last part too.#originally i just came to anonymously correct the title (which. it's still wrong. je NE sais quoi. sorry!!!)#but then I thought WHAT THE HELL let's read this fic and so I DID and it's GOOD AS HELL 10/10 would read again

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justficsiguess · 28 days

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Stylish

first bruce fic! please give me feedback on him i’m not as confident? writing him bc it’s SO easy to get ooc. part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine , part ten part eleven

It was a mistake, the first time you noticed.

Bruce Wayne was constantly in and out of your hotel. For functions, luncheons, anything to do with high society, and he was there. You really only see him at night, being the overnight concierge at the hotel. He always saunters up to you at the end of the night, around two or three AM, asking for keys to his penthouse. There’s usually a woman hanging off his arm, trying to sexily nibble his ear (it looks more like slobbering and chewing, if you’re honest) and “whispering” in his ear. The latter sounds more like high pitched whines. You don’t know how he stands it. He always drunkenly winks at you as he leaves, woman stumbling ahead of him, having the time of her life, it seems.

But something always looks off to you. You think its Bruce himself. As an overnight concierge, you know drunk people. You know how they talk, how they walk, how demanding they can be. Bruce is none of these things. Sure he’ll stumble a bit, but it seems…calculated to you. It’s nothing he gives away, of course, he’s a good actor, but there’s just something off about his performance. You’re hypothesis that it’s all an act isn’t proven true until you’re watching the cameras one night, doing the hourly check through, when you see it.

It’s around four AM and you’re bored, your novel sitting forgotten by the monitors as you scroll through the feeds. Of course, there are some teenagers up at this hour, getting ice and acting like idiots. You see the odd insomniac wandering the hall, trying to exhaust himself to sleep. It isn’t until you switch to the top floor that you snap out of your boredom. You hardly ever check that floor because there’s only a short hallway before you hit the door to the penthouse, and Wayne is hardly ever there. Tonight he is, though. You watch with rapt attention as he creeps out into the hallway, seemingly cautious, so he doesn’t wake up his date. He’s weirdly alert for someone that was apparently so hungover just two hours ago. He slips his shoes and jacket on in the hallway, then heads for the elevator. He can’t be drunk, you think. And you’re right. He isn’t. Like glass shattering, it dawns on you that this is all an act. He brings these girls up to his room, to make people think he’s some kind of perverted playboy, and maybe he sleeps with them, maybe he doesn’t, maybe-

Your mind is going a thousand miles an hour. You watch as Bruce takes the elevator to the basement, where the hotel staff’s equipment and machines are. Once there, he beelines towards the caterer’s door. Just before he walks out, he looks up at the camera, seemingly right at you, and winks. He slips out without a trace. Your jaw drops.

You want to tell someone, anyone, what you’ve witnessed, but you get the feeling you can’t. Shouldn’t.

It’s three weeks before you see him again. Surprisingly, you see him before the gala starts. He slips you a piece of paper, saying, “Please have two keys for my penthouse made up before midnight tonight. Thank you.”

You just nod and take the paper, figuring it’s just a tip. Unfolding it, you read, in neat, almost cursive-like handwriting, Please call me at your earliest convenience. XXX-XXX-5709. - B.W.

#woke up to see part 20 in the tags so I immediately read all of them and this entire fic is so good!!!!#reblogging part 1 bc it's the beginning ig but they're all so gooooooood <33333 #their relationship is so cute!!!! I love that reader is a completely normal person <33 #so many fics make reader super smart with an amazing job etc etc I appreciate that this one is silly and cool :)#bruce wayne #batman #dc #sfw

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justficsiguess · 1 month

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You're literally so fucking disgusting (said with absolute joy).

Anyways, which of your silly little comic book yandere men are into petplay? And are they puppy-owner-coded or kitty-owner-coded?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒: 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘-𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐑…

!!! GN reader, petplay, can be translated as romantic or platonic, but the innuendos are 100% intended, collars, leashes, mentions of punishments, slight manipulation, drugging, I channeled my inner pet for this.

*Pulls out my 3 hour long slideshow* I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED, ANON.

First off, all of them are into pet play if I have a say in it. You will never catch me obsessing over a character I either can’t see collaring me or wearing a collar for me. So, really, this question boils down to if they’re a dog or cat person, LMAOOOOO.

Second, they all could go either way, honestly. These are just my personal thoughts on what they might gravitate towards. If you’re a certified puppy, don’t you worry, cuz the kitty enjoyers will love you the same, and visa versa.

Now let’s get started.

Bruce Wayne: I ALREADY CAN’T FUCKING CHOOSE, FUCK. My first instinct was to gravitate towards kitty-owner, but then I thought about his need to have some sort of physical tie to you (cuz he totally keeps you chained or handcuffed to him, DON’T FUCKING QUESTION ME), so he might be a puppy-owner for the sake of keeping you on a leash. Either way, you’re totally his little lap pet while he works in his office. Petting you gives him the strength he needs to finish all his paperwork. Also, everything you own is bedazzled to hell and back, from collars to toys. He likes to spoil his beloved little pet, okay?!

Clark Kent: I’m gonna go with puppy-owner. He might carry you around like a cat, but that’s only because carries dogs around like cats, too (that’s what happens when you have super-strength; everything is just so carry-able). Absolutely talks to you in that babying voice every dog-owner uses. “Who’s a good pup? Who’s a good pup?? You are!! That’s right, you are!! Aww, look at you!!” It might be annoying, but you better get used to it if you don’t wanna be locked in your uncomfortable cage while he’s gone. He knows you hate it, which is why he hates it, but it’s the only way to get you to behave!! Be his good pup, won’t you?

Dick Grayson: Very much leaning towards puppy owner. He’s all for training you into his loyal pup who follows him everywhere. Also lowkey talks down on you cuz you’re just a cute, dumb puppy!! You don’t need to be thinking big human thoughts!! Let your loving master take care of everything, okay? Ah, ah, ah! Silly, pup! You’re not supposed to speak! Now get back on your hands and knees… puppies don’t walk like people do, remember? Or does he have to get a little mean to remind you? You don’t want that, do you? Yeah, didn’t think so. Now sit… good job!! Why don’t we give you a treat, hm~?

Hal Jordan: Another one that can go either way. Honestly, though? The more I think about it, the more I’m digging kitty-owner Hal. There are so many ways this could go that it makes my head hurt. Is he a condescending owner? “Poor little kitty… got something to say? Hm? What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Or a soft owner? “Such a pretty little kitty… did you miss me while I was away? Yeah? I’m so sorry, sweetie.” What about one of those cat-dads that started out as we-are-not-getting-a-cat and ended up getting totally attached? “What do YOU want? Huh? Whatcha up to, pusscat? AYE!! Get off of the couch!! Come on, you know better.” The possibilities are endless.

Jaime Reyes: You know, it’s kinda weird. I see him as a certified puppy by default, yet as an owner? He’s kitty-adjacent. You’re just the cutest kitty-cat ever, he can’t help but keep you as one!! Definitely gets one of those bell collars (with a cute bow on it!!) for you. It helps ease his anxiety whenever he hears it jingle. Better be a cuddly kitty, cuz he canNOT keep his hands off of you. Poor guy’s always on the verge of a panic attack at the thought of you running away. It’s a common occurrence for him to pull you into his lap, eyes shining with unshod tears as he quietly asks, “you’ll never leave me, right?” If you don’t want to sit there awkwardly while he hyperventilates, I suggest you be kind and nuzzle into him.

Remy LeBeau: 100% kitty-owner. Expects you to greet him at the door when he comes home. “Y’miss me, minou? Yeah… Gambit missed you, too. C’mere.” Whether you like to admit it or not, he gives the best scratchies. He’ll have you lay against his chest for hours, softly petting your head as he listens to your rhythmic breathing. Absolutely sits you on the counter while he cooks so he can feed you small morsels as a little treat!! Every chef has to have an adorable sous-chef, no? Oh my god, he is just so soft that it makes my heart melt. You’re his precious little kitty and he’ll never let you forget it!! Just don’t be up to any trouble, okay? He may be gentle, but he also knows how to punish naughty kitties.

Scott Summers: Puppy-owner puppy-owner puppy-owner pupPY-OWNER— you bet your ass he’s training you to be the perfect little puppy. When he’s through with you, you’re gonna be the most obedient pup around. Don’t get me wrong, he’s actually a very soft and sweet master!! Gives you tummy rubs, praises, and even treats (when you’re good). However, when it comes to obedience, he’s absolutely the no-nonsense type. Do not test him; the literal leash he has on you is short for a reason. Disciplinary Scott is a very scary Scott, so I’d suggest you start acting right if you don’t want to get the cruelest punishment ever. “That’s right. Be a good little pup for me. You know what happens to bad puppies. Behave.”

Tim Drake: Have you met him? Kitty-owner for sure. He wants a lazy kitty that’ll sleep in his lap whenever he works (read: he wants to drug you so you’re constantly lethargic and can’t run away from him). Be prepared to be a weighted blanket, cuz he loves when you lay on top of him. Whenever you wake up, he’ll always be the first thing you see. “Good morning, Kitty! Sleep well? C’mon, it’s breakfast time!” Does NOT let you do anything for yourself (not like you’ve got the energy to, anyway). He loves to take care of his cute little kitty!! Also, has about 3,000 photos of you on his phone so he can look at them when he’s away. He just misses you, okay? You’re all he thinks about on patrol!!

Wally West: The puppy-owner thoughts won. He wants a happy little pup to pounce on him anytime he comes home!! Oh… you don’t wanna do that? Well, it’s okay!! He’s very good at training disobedient mutts. A quick word of warning, you do not want to trigger his stern mode. He’ll dish out the most cruel and devious punishments, all with the “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed” attitude. Soft and sweet owner Wally is where it’s at. Loves to make you do tricks and give you treats afterwards!! He can get a little condescending and tease you, but it’s all done out of love! Unless you’ve been bad. Then it’s completely intended to be malicious. But you would never be a bad pup for him, right? He loves so much and spoils you rotten, why would you ever be bad? Come one, now!! Walkies time!! If you don’t tug on the leash, he’ll give you a big reward!!

#yandere AND petplay? I love you op...#yandere #dc #petplay

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justficsiguess · 1 month

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Meeting the Family

based off this! but can be read alone.

Yandere! Fem! Reader / Yandere! Bruce Wayne

> romantic with bruce, platonic with the boys. the boys could be read as pre-yandere if you wish. > tw/cw: reader is a yandere, yandere-typical thought patterns, implied drugging, mention of self-harm, implied drugging > request: thoughts on co-conspirator!reader meeting the boys? > a/n: Hmmmm, i feel it’d be a meeting of interrogation where they see you’re clearly unstable !! > word count: 1.4k

You walk towards the threshold of a Wayne Manor sitting room. You have this hallway nearly memorized. You’ve viewed it through your 24/7 surveillance cameras and glanced upon it during your visits, but never has this hallway seemed so daunting until now. Luckily, your lover is nearby to reassure you. Bruce slips his hand into yours, and you inwardly swoon. You share a warm glance with him.

“They’ll adore you,” he says. You let a smile peek through your anxious expression. “I know I do.” At such sweet words, you feel your cheeks heat. Ugh, this man, you think affectionately.

Your Sunday best is the armor you don to meet Bruce’s children. It seems like you won’t even be able to meet them all – only the ones in town. “They just want to interrogate me,” you whine, letting yourself be pulled towards the impeccably decorated room.

“They just want to get to know you,” Bruce returns, humming. You can’t retort because already, you are in full view of his brood. The three of them look up from their phones and books. You swallow, under the scrutiny of two pairs of blue eyes and one pair of green.

“... Hi,” you say, waving a stupid hand. One smiles in return, thank goodness.

“I’ll just let you all get acquainted,” Bruce says, retreating. You swerve to him, blinking dumbly. That was not the agreement. The agreement was that Bruce moderate the discussion– and he’s gone.

He leaves the sitting room, and leaves you in the lion’s den to fend for yourself. And boy, do the lions pounce.

The eldest, Dick – he’s positively godsent. He’s the first to shake your hand, immediately going into a friendly babble about how you’re all Bruce ever talks about and how he’s been excited to meet you. And thank God for that, because it manages to ease the tension you still have in your shoulders. He introduces himself and his brothers, melts the ice by teasing them as he does it. He offers you a seat across from them, offers you tea and cookies. He shares an anecdote of Bruce’s less polished moments to make you laugh.

You soon realize he was a sleeper agent. He was merely buttering you up, lowering your defenses with well-placed platitudes and good-natured jokes.

It’s Tim who begins the true assault.

“So,” Tim begins over a cup of tea, looking upon you owlishly. “Isolation for 10 long years… How was that?” You blink, startled, before smiling weakly. At least no one was treating you like glass. Sometimes, that made you feel even more like a freak.

You try to give him a Sparknotes recollection, but it doesn’t satisfy him. At his badgering, you do relent more details. You are slipping your innermost thoughts without much of a fight, to your surprise. Dick’s empathetic gaze and Tim’s enraptured attention have you spilling dark thoughts it took you months to even tell Bruce…

It was long. It was traumatic. Mind-altering. You have breakdown after breakdown. Self-harm after self-harm. There is a part of you you can never get back… So, 'how was it?' Why, just awful, thanks for asking!

Dick comforts you with “you’re so strong,” as Tim nods. He seems happy with his findings. It seems like you have piqued his academic interest – you can basically see the gears churning behind his mind, the factoids he’s storing for later. For what, you don’t know, but you’re glad to help. Throat dry, you down the rest of that blasted tea, but the boys aren’t quite finished.

Damian, however, is brutal in his questioning, sparing any of the pleasantries or dithering his brothers employed. He asks rapid fire about your past outside of your years in isolation. What was your childhood like? Your relationship with your parents? Did you ever graduate high school? College? What was your major? Do you like animals? His father houses two dogs, a cat, and a cow – you do know that don’t you?

“What are your intentions with my father?” At that, you flinch.

“Nothing… nefarious, to be sure,” you say, sweat beginning to bead on your temple. It’s true! Aside from all the dastardly actions you wanted to inflict upon Bruce in the bedroom, nothing nefarious!

“And his other suitors? They don’t bother you?”

At that, your smile wilts. Not from any offense… you simply don’t enjoy the reminder that others do seek Bruce’s affection.

“They… don’t worry me,” you say succinctly. Dick doesn’t think you realize how your smile has grown sharp. Damian doesn’t let on whether he approves or disapproves of the answer. And Tim simply watches.

“And my father’s controlling and possessive tendencies? You’re fine with that? What would you do if you caught him in a lie? Or if a woman he was involved with confronted you?”

You gape like a fish. Man, what a character this one was. Damian blinks slow and catlike, before he sniffs. “I’m asking for one of the siblings who couldn’t be here today.”

“Um…” you return, discombobulated. You shoot off your answers as rapid-fire as he posed them. “I haven’t noticed any tendencies. And I can handle myself! If he lied… I’d hear him out. He probably had a good reason, of course.”

“What if it was infidelity?”

You glare at them. “I’d get rid of her.” Why do they keep bringing up other women?

At the boys’ silence, you realize your mistake. You wave your hands and bluster, “Not like– not like get rid of her– I would just tell her to… Leave. And I’d be… angry… at Bruce.” God, you don’t feel like you’re doing too well in this interview. You hiccup, filling your cup some more. What is in this tea? Man, it’s delicious.

“... Interesting.”

“What if Bruce left you out of his own volition?” Tim points out, drawing your attention.

Your head snaps to him and you stare… That possibility had never even crossed your mind.

“He wouldn’t,” you say, confused. At raised eyebrows, you say, “I mean. I-I don’t think he would.” You have faith in Bruce. It’s been five months now, and your relationship has gone swimmingly. You had your insecurities… but Bruce had kissed all your worries away by now. Your fingers dig into the cushion of the couch.

He wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t. He had already reassured you, and been so kind, and wonderful, and shown you what love was like– he couldn’t just leave you now–

“But what if he did?” and this time, the question comes from Dick, who, if you recall, hadn’t asked a single question yet. He looks serious, unlike his casual air from before.

You keep the desperation out your voice by keeping it chillingly level. ��Then I’d convince him otherwise.” Good answer, good answer, you applaud yourself. All the boys nod, looking upon you with varying degrees of interest, curiosity, and understanding.

“Then… I suppose we have just one more question,” Tim says, plucking the kettle of tea out your hands. You pout.

“Thoughts on having children?”

At the question, your brows shoot into your hairline.

“... Are there not enough of you already?” you blurt.

To your relief, they all relax.

After that strange encounter, Bruce shows himself and sees you out. The walk outside is quiet. Comfortably quiet on your end. You hope you did good… no, you reassure yourself. Fuck it, you did great.

“So… how were they?”

You glance at his face, and are surprised to see thinly veiled concern behind his smile. “Did any of them say anything… strange? And… did you like them?” You laugh, before floating up to kiss Bruce between the brows. Flight powers came in handy for stuff like that.

“They were wonderful,” you say cheekily. “Something they clearly get from their father.”

bonus!

Bruce re-enters the foyer. He shoots off a text, lamenting. If you hadn’t had him bug his own home, he could’ve spoken to the boys freely. He could’ve had Jason hide nearby, instead of having to listen in on Damian’s phone.

Bruce: Did that satisfy your curiosities?

Several ellipses in bubbles pop up, before his phone rattles with their responses.

Damian: Frankly, she comes off as airheaded and naive, but at least she seems to have some semblance of spine.

Jason: She’s crazy. Didn’t we tell you to stop sticking your dick in crazy

Dick: Well, I think that makes you guys a perfect match!

Tim: bruce i’m sorry, you cannot fix her. however, i would like to study her. and possibly, make her worse

Bruce sighs, albeit smiling. By all accounts, you seem have gotten their general approval.

#yay! yippi!! thank you for the food op 🙏 the first part was already so good and this is a lovely continuation <3 #yandere #batman #batfam #dc #sfw

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justficsiguess · 1 month

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tw - blood, mentions of death, slight kidnapping, and spoilers for dungeon meshi.

You could remember Laios once mentioning that dragons mate for life.

It would've been impossible to remember why he brought it up, whether you'd been foolish enough to ask him or if he'd offered the unwanted information in a more general conversation on monster behavior, but the fact stuck. Dragons, like most birds and reptiles, mated for life, and were unlikely to take another partner if their first died. You remembered thinking that it made sense, at the time. Like most monsters in the dungeon, dragons relied on a cycle of reincarnation and didn't age, meaning there was no environmental pressure to reproduce. And, even if it was only on some base, animalistic level, the reincarnation cycle meant that dragons knew their fallen mates would eventually return, even if they would have to wait a few months, a few years, a few decades. If you'd been a kinder person, you might've went so far as to call it romantic.

Dragons mate for life. You guessed that went for Falin too, now - or, the vicious creature that was wearing her face, at least.

You could only be thankful that you didn't have very long left to live.

You could feel it coming. Falin had managed to get you away from the battlefield, but you'd been injured in the fight - whether by her claws or an ally's sword, you couldn't be sure. Blood was rushing out of the deep gash stretching across your chest without reservation, soaking into the leather of your armor and pooling on the stone floor beneath you. You couldn't remember how you got hurt, and you couldn't remember how you'd gotten here, either - to a bell tower tall enough to overlook most of the abandoned city, decorated only with a few colorless feathers and bones you could only hope belonged to yet another wretched creature. Your vision was fogged and dim, your arms too heavy to raise and your legs too numb to move, but you were almost thankful for the paralysis - it kept the worst of the pain at bay. You were thankful to die, too, even if you knew you shouldn't be. There'd be no one to resurrect you, no one to drag your lifeless body back to the surface, but you didn't mind. If you died here, it would mean that you'd never have to find out just how many lives were ended because of a monster with Falin's face, her hands, her magic. If you died here, you'd never have to see the creature she'd become again.

You tried to close your eyes, to let go of the last of your strength before it could be taken from you forcibly, but the sound of talons scraping against stone brought what was left of your conscious back to the surface. With no small amount of effort, you managed to turn your head to the bell tower's largest window - or, more accurately, to Falin, perched on the stone ledge, taking care to tuck her wings against her side in a way that was not totally unsimilar to how she used to take precious seconds to comb her finds through the knots in your hair. Her wounds were still fresh, many of her ivory feather still soaked with red, and she was already looking at you, already smiling so gently that your heart might've beat a little faster, had it been able to beat at all. Despite yourself, you smiled back as you met her eyes. Your smile had never been quite as pretty as hers, of course, but she'd always liked it when you could pretend to believe it was.

Your kept your eyes locked with hers as she approached, the movements of her great body slow, only somewhat labored. The floor of the bell tower shook as she lowered herself to your height, her hand coming down to cup your cheek. You couldn't stop yourself. You leaned into her palm, into her warmth, letting out a rattling exhale as her thumb traced idle patterns into your skin. Maybe she would be kind enough to put you out of your misery a few seconds early, but even if she didn't, you wouldn't mind. So long as you could die in Falin's arms, you'd be happy.

Her lips didn't move. She didn't move. She said nothing, did nothing, and yet, with little more warning than a dull, green glow in the corner of your vision as warning, you felt warmth flood out of her skin and into yours. There was a single bolt of pure, unforgiving agony around the edges of your injury and then, nothing.

For a second, you let yourself believe that you were dead. Falin killed you, and you were dead. You had to be dead.

Your gaze shot back to Falin. Her smile didn't waver, but her hand fell away from your cheek and found your own. Tenderly, she brought to her chest and with her free hand, slid something onto your finger. It took you a moment to recognize the cold burn of chilled metal, the way the ring glinted gold when it caught the light. It was her ring - the ring you'd given her after Marcille's resurrection, the ring you'd fumbled into her palm as you asked her to marry you, then apologized for not having a matching pair.

And then, something hot and thick caught in your throat and you lurched forward, coughing into your hands. By the time you pulled away, your palms were fleshed with bloody tissue and the gash across your chest was gone, replaced with a blank expanse of exposed, in-tact skin. She'd healed you.

She refused to let you die.

She cupped your hand, when she was done, her eyes darting up to meet yours. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse, low, a poor imitation of something wonderful. If you hadn't been so terrified, you might've called it beautiful.

"My love."

#YEEEESSSSSS!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!#yandere dragon!Falin is all I've been thinking about recently I love you op!!!!#yandere #dungeon meshi #falin touden

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justficsiguess · 1 month

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mmm yummy yandere thistle who keeps you locked up in his cottage.

you spend the days reading books, playing with the dangerous rabbits, and rolling around on the grass. sometimes even gardening.

thistle doesn’t keep you cuffed or tied, although he puts a pretty collar on you, embedded with light pink and purple floral designs.

he doesn’t go through the effort of building gates around, he knows you can’t escape by yourself with the dungeon changing layouts and adding mazes.

you sometimes beg him to let you visit the kingdom’s residents. and he lets you, although he’s a bit manic, in the end he’s doing this all for you and the people’s safety.

with yaad and the other villagers, you aren’t as lonely. although thistle still puts a curfew on you and sends out monsters and creatures to bring you back.

he doesn’t let you visit that much though, he wouldn’t want you to get attached to somebody else and try to leave.

he needs you by his side almost everyday, when he’s not dealing with the dungeon and the adventurers, he demands that you stay in his presence.

that man’s kind of a control freak and he needs you to soothe him.

you’re basically stuck in that lonely cottage forever. but at least its with him.

#yayyyyyyy yandere dungeon meshi post ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#dungeon meshi #yandere

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justficsiguess · 1 month

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borrower au P2 // small yet heavy is your heart.

Summary: Kara gets stuck on the watch tower duty with only you for company. It goes better than she honestly expected it would.

WC: 2.4K

part one

Comments and tags are always appreciated! Let me know your thoughts and who you would like to see show up potentially in part 3 🍀

After a long term deep space mission the last place anyone had wanted to be was stuck on the watchtower. It usually wasn't the worst job to be assigned. But it still was such a pain, to be stuck in space when all anyone craved was to return to earth.

Being a part of a team meant drawing the shortest straw was a high possibility. And while Kara wasn't exactly used to all the team work- she was at least willing to try it out at least for her cousin's sake.

So she was fine with picking up a few more hours stuck in space, but she still couldn't let go of the apprehensiveness she was currently feeling. Guarding the base was easy enough. The hard part came when checking in on you…

While your previous actions were nothing to write home about in the beginning of your villainous career- You still proved to be a threat whenever the right moment presented itself. And Kara knew this better than anyone. As much as she hated to recall it she had been captured by you during her first year of being Supergirl. And it wasn't a pleasant experience to say the least… Being hit with kryptonite never was an easy thing to deal with- especially when she had already gotten fairly hurt in the fight against another villain.

And in the chaos you had exploited her weakness, stealing the kryptonian away when no one was looking. All of that was just so you could get the answers no one else in the universe was aware of. It didn't bother you- to ask a thousand questions to the injured kryptonian.

Her pain and discomfort meant nothing to you. The only thing on your mind was to further whatever evil scheme you had been setting up.

And no one had even noticed Kara had been missing- which was sort of her own fault… Meaning there was no one coming to save her. Let alone anyone aware she hadn't run off to cool down again. So for hours Kara was stuck with you. And despite your cruelty in this entire situation, once you got your answers you let Kara go.

The answers you gained certainly had fueled whatever evil experiments you were performing. Which was not ideal by any means.

But it still wasn't the worst situation she had been placed in. Even if the rest of the league was severely disappointed in her for what had happened.

Her current situation right now seemed to take the cake… Anger was something that Kara always had tried to keep intact.

With those beady little eyes of yours staring right back, Kara knew that this was going to be a long night. And right now the glass cage doesn't feel like enough of a barrier between the two of you.

She knows it's wrong to put all this hate into a creature that's not even half her size, but she really can't help it. Because Kara has seen your previous actions- she's even read all of your files.

The hope that you could be redeemed had long since died after you kidnapped her. It didn't matter if you looked all soft and sweet now-

You were a villain and once you regained your previous form or memories you would be a potential threat again.

With the base being empty there were only so many tasks she could complete in order to avoid you- currently the kitchen area seemed like the best place to linger for now.

But having super hearing makes ignoring the sounds coming from you that much more difficult.

Kara knows you most likely are unaware she can even hear the quiet sounds you are making. It's mainly soft trills and small attempts at speech, though it's clearly more of a mimicking sound than an actual attempt.

You have been practicing for hours and not even one 'hello' has been properly said. So while it's nothing that needs to be updated in your files she still listens in. More perplexed than anything, unable to place why the sounds you are making sound so familiar.

She eventually comes to linger in the doorway of the room you are in, trying to remember where she had heard that sound before.

It takes her longer than she would ever admit to remember that she's only ever heard such a thing on her home planet.

The sound was present for every sunrise that Krypton had ever known. It came from a peculiar

avian species, earthlings called their world's equivalent birds.

Kara had not been able to see the similarities at first- on Krypton; none of the creatures had been so small. And birds were not only too small, but incapable of such wonderful songs.

It seemed to be another one of the thousand little things about Krypton she thought would be lost to her memories-

Yet here you were singing just the same way with multiple frequencies that only Kara could hear right now.

Nostalgia cuts deep, Kara tears up but the moment is quickly gone once she realizes you have been watching her. Your singing has long stopped- but there still is an echo in the base so it carries on.

Your face was now pressed against the glass, and your tail was flicking back and forth in a counterclockwise motion.

Kara will undoubtedly come to regret what she does next but feeling vulnerable never sat right with her. And with those complicated feelings she had towards you- it seemed like you couldn't help but to taunt her even like this. Her anger gets the best of her, she finally snapped.

“Do you have to really make it a point to taunt me even when you are the one locked inside a cage?".

She kept glaring at you, though you didn't seem to understand a word Kara was saying. Eventually you managed to take the hint.

With you turned away and no longer facing Kara- She could see clearly now how there was a droop to your ears and tail, it was uncharacteristic. And it was undoubtedly her fault. You make it a point to ignore every apology Kara attempts to make.

It seemed emotional intelligence wasn't something this version of you lacked. Despite what all of the other league members claimed.

She mulls over her thoughts for the rest of the night. More hung up now after she finally lets herself think about what had happened earlier.

There had to be something she could do to properly show regret for her you- in a way that you would actually accept. But nothing comes to her mind easily. And to make her feel even more guilty, you still sing a variation of the song Kara had so strongly responded to for the rest of the evening.

When it's time to feed you all Kara needs to do is follow the very clear instructions. She takes out the small orange container labeled with your name in the fridge and takes it back to the room you are in.

There are numerous cut up fruits and vegetables, Kara gives you a mix of the two just as instructed but you don't touch any of it.

But it seems you have gotten tired of whatever it was they had been feeding you. But Kara thinks that eventually you will give in to eating your dinner. But time passes and you simply don't. Instead you make more attempts at speech to Kara.

Which on one hand meant she was somewhat forgiven, but on the other that also meant you were likely not going to eat since you haven't already. Which was concerning- but Kara was beginning to suspect you were a lot more intelligent than any of the others had first thought. And placing herself into your very tiny metaphorical shoes, suspected you were just tired of only eating these basic fruits and vegetables without any change.

Everyone had assumed you had the intelligence of a ‘mouse’ now. Which if you were in your right state of mind would think was rather insulting.

So as much as she wanted to dislike you- Kara knew better than anyone what it was like to feel like you were alone in the universe with only monsters and 'aliens' surrounding you. Given your current state all you had was to peer out of your glass cage.

It was likely you didn't remember anything or anyone you once knew. The very least she could do for you was to give you something else to eat.

And once Kara found something that she thought you would like she returned to your room.

Your ears perked up immediately, your ability was nothing close to superhuman hearing but you were more aware than most beings.

Kara's footsteps at least were at least recognizable to you-

Your tail was flickering back and forth- with no rhyme or reason. Maybe you already knew she had something to give you.

She broke off a part of a cookie she had taken earlier and set it down through the hatch of your cage. Kara was a little surprised by how quickly you take it.

First you took a small sniff at the foreign item- and after looking back at the cookie and Kara a few times, you finally had decided it was edible.

You still take a small and tentative bite. Almost immediately your pupils now had become twice the size they had previously had been.

The effects it does to your body are also immediate- the small green leaf that makes up the very top of your tail becomes even more vivid.

Naturally you appear a little healthier than she has ever seen you, which doesn't fully make sense. You had been eating enough fruit- the sugar from that should have been more than enough to satisfy and keep your health in check.

Kara may come from a family of scientists but she never fully was interested in it. She has no pool of knowledge to help her explain this phenomenon occurring right in front of her.

She knows she will have to fill out some paperwork and let the scientists handle the research. That takes more time than she can patiently wait though-

And so curiosity gets the better of Kara. She goes back to the kitchen looking for small sugar cubes.

After giving you two pieces of sugar, you surprisingly had not devoured them both in a few bites this time.

The first is eaten quickly- your pupils wide and once you are done, you thank Kara with a delightful chirp.

The second sugar cube you take and store in the corner of the glass cage. You carefully wrap it in some paper that no one is sure how you have got your hands on-

Storing it away for a rainy day it seems.

She would have to remember that the key to your heart could only be earned via a sugar rush.

For a short while you attempt to converse with Kara in numerous ways- but much to your obvious displeasure nothing is understood by the kryptonian.

Eventually you seem to be tired out, and after doing some of your night routine you head off to your little moss bed. Wrapped in a tiny warm blanket you quickly fall asleep and Kara goes to check on the watch towers vitals.

You were a lot more docile than the others had given you credit for. Kara honestly wouldn't mind getting stuck on watch tower duty a few more times….

The next time Kara gets to watch you she sneaks a few more snacks she thinks you'll like onboard to the watchtower. And just like before you carefully stored away half of the perishable foods- this time she also brought some pecans. It wasn't quite the same, but once on Krypton such a thing was once a gift freely given between friends.

A sign of prosperity for the bond to grow even stronger with the many years to come.

And while you couldn't possibly know about that part of Kara's culture you still are so grateful for the gift.

The moment is ruined when Kara hears very quiet foot steps coming towards this room.

"I wouldn't get so close to the little gremlin Kara- that thing might just bite off your finger".

Still she didn't think he was here to make himself known. In her very short time with the league the bats never failed to remind her of a certain militaristic family from her home planet.

(Although if Kal trusted them that couldn't possibly be true- she knew this but still Kara had her worries).

"You think I can't handle one little bite?". She sarcastically asks.

Nightwing wasn't on the current schedule list for the watch- but the bats were sneaky. She knew he most likely came to check in on your situation while Batman and the others were currently on a mission in another universe.

No one really knew why Batman and Wonder woman were so adamant in you being the league's top priority.

In comparison to other villains you weren't in Kara's opinion even a minor threat. Even back when you kidnapped her, it wasn't like you had beaten her in the battle. Someone else had already done that for you and you simply took advantage of that factor.

She had no doubts that if it came down to it, you would lose against whoever you declared to be your nemesis. So why two founding members of the Justice League were adamant in your threat level was odd to say the least.

To Kara dreams likely would never be fully realized- especially now with how small you were.

Though that could change at any moment.

And admittedly like this you were a lot more more endearing, but that didn't change who you truly were. And it was only a matter of time before any positive thoughts and feelings she had to you would have to become neutral. And if you decided to do something extreme neutrality would soon be forced into something a lot less kind than that.

It was a sad but true possibility.

"Just don't stay up too late". Kara suggested before leaving the man to his own devices. Though they both knew that Nightwing wasn't only here to continue on with being your watch guard.

She almost stopped a good distance away to listen in to whatever Nightwing was doing but decided against it.

The quicker someone found answers about your current condition the faster she wouldn't have to worry about her conflicted feelings.

#yayyyy Kara <333 thank you for the sugar 🙏#yandere #dc #sfw

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