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#(I basically took this time off because because I wasn't well.. I was really and really bad...
littlemsshoney · 1 day
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Insatiable Hunger
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Hannibal Lecter × patient!reader
Warnings: unhealthy dynamics, obssesive relationship, slight stalking, Hannibal bring emotionally manipulative dunno
(first time writing about hannibal, kinda nervous be aware)
At first you were just another patient, a potential pawn or a future extravagant dinner he would enjoy some Friday night. Another lost and troubled soul that was unfortunate enough to find him.
However his interest grew like a forest fire, a burning insatiable hunger consumed him more and more with each one of your sessions.
There was something about you that caught his eye. The way you talked, the way you carried yourself.
He started taking notes of every little detail of your life and with some research of his own he soon knew every aspect of your life. Where you live, where you work, who your friends are, which cafe you spend your Saturday morning everything in.
He knew that he should feel bad for crossing such a line between a therapist and a patient but he didn’t really. After all, it wasn't that hard. With your social media your life was practically an open book for everyone to read and enjoy and if he didn’t then he was sure someone else did.
Only the thought made him angry. It wasn’t about your safety but more about his hurt ego. He had his eye on you, no one else should change that and he should make it known.
Of course he had always been a fan of traditional courting so don’t be confused when you start bumping into him in the most random places at some point with the excuse of cheering you up even being invited to one of his glamorous dinner parties. All of those situations you tried to avoid and refuse gracefully, not because of being aware of his true intentions but rather because you knew there was a thin line you shouldn’t cross.
So you didn't leave him any other way. He truly wanted to be gentle and kind with you and treat you like the precious, vulnerable creature you were in his mind but you just won’t have it the easy way, will you?
The thought of being patient- one of the tarits he awlways took pride on- now felt like a real torture. He wanted to consume you whole. There was something about you that reflected some part of him, an unknown familiarity of your pain. He wanted to break you down, then pick up your parts and build you up. Then do it all over again.
Your sessions were heavy at least. Raw honesty from your part and emotional manipulation from his all to serve the creation of an intense bond, a codependent relationship.
Your wellbeing and mental health had turned into a chess game and the game was anything but fair. In less than two months your whole well being was hanging from a thread and only he could help you or tear you apart.
One can only imagine the sadistic pleasure he took from your vulnerability and pain. Comfortably he sat at his armchair watching as you fell apart in front of him each week feeling worse and worse. All he had to do was just watch and enjoy, proud of his creation.
In his free time he recalled how beautifully you cried, so broken and desperate for him to fix you but all he wanted was lick your tears and take you in. He imagined you being under him, crying - from pleasure - his name rolling off your tongue over and over again.
Soon he had you feeling as if the whole world had turned against you. You couldn’t even trust your own judgement, you had cut ties with most of your friends -Dr Lecter advised you that none of them were genuine-you had become more and more isolated, you felt like you’re turning paranoid.
And then the final act of his play
“I’m really sorry I didn’t know where else to go” and like clockwork you deliberately walked onto his trap, basically sealing your own fate. All he had to do now is hold his door wide open for you to come in.
And then checkmate. That eventful evening standing on the doorstep of the only person you thought truly cared about you. He let you in and like a wounded bird he took you into his arms with such generosity and kindness in contrast to everyone else in your life. The irony.
“It will all be alright”
You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him for dear life, holding onto the only person that seems to understand you and actually wants to help you. As you cry on his shoulder he rests his chin on your head and gently caresses your hair.
Despite your persistence to resist him you are finally giving in. He kisses the crown of your head and though you know it is wrong you let him. You would let him do anything to keep him and he knows it.
Frozen in place you close your eyes as he kisses your forehead, then your eyes and cheek. You know what comes next yet you do not pull away, you don't resist what’s inevitable. A second passes and he doesn’t move, you open your eyes to see him staring at your lips. Now you know you want it, you feel his hunger as your own and you’re starving for it.
Grabbing him by his expensive tie you kiss him, not gently as he did but with desperation and need to be seen and understood.
Pleased he lets you have control just this once for the rest of your time together. He knew you would soon come to realise it’s only him you ever needed.
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mel-loly · 1 month
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-I'm back, my dear people! Did you miss me? :]
(I hope so, because it took a while for me to find time to come back- also.. sorry for the bad art😃👍)
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thedreadvampy · 2 months
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realising how much of my expansion beyond rock and metal into a wide range of genres is because:
Slipknot crossed over with the edgy/gothier end of 2000s hiphop
Disturbed are just like. The BIGGEST nerds for 80s British pop (they're not alone in that, it's a whole numetal Thing, but I think like a solid 10% of the 80s pop I listen to I first heard as a Disturbed cover)
Lady Gaga was the top 40 artist it was Okay For Edgy Alternative Teens To Like In 2007
Being an Alternative 2000s Teen was in many ways very musically stifling cause it was incumbent upon me to perform disdain for anything deemed too Pop.
I was somewhat rescued by my own gayness (when me and my gay goblin friends discovered CAMP!!!! and got semi-ironically big into Katy Perry and Rihanna and of course Gaga) but mostly I was so aggressively self-policing my music tastes and deciding what to listen to based more on my assessment of where it fitted socially than on whether I like. Liked it.
Catch 13 year old me studiously typing "punk" and "metal" into Limewire and listening to whatever came up. Catch 15 year old me assessing whether the fact that Rihanna is making music videos about murder in black lipstick means it's ok to like top 40 pop. Complicated by the fact that honestly half the biggest Alternative Teen bait acts of the 2000s were pop as hell, and that as above, numetal acts were nerdy musicians with a broad range of tastes outside metal, and it was very complicated for me. It probably took me until I was like 20 to really start to get a handle on what I personally liked musically, rather than what fit my persona (vividly remember being in a goth club when I was like 18 where they closed out the night with Leonard Cohen's Closing Time every time, and thinking like oh man am I allowed to like Leonard Cohen then? having been listening to Leonard Cohen since I was a literal infant.)
Once I let go of the sense of having to like the Right Music, I very rapidly developed very eclectic tastes and music became a really big part of my life. although my friend did recently still describe my music taste as "two genres - heavy and gay" so that 2000s alt teen is still in there big time.
I think it's a normal thing about being a kid. You're developing music taste basically from scratch and there's a world of music out there so it helps to start out with a narrow focus and build a solid few acts, albums or genres you really like and work out from there. But I do regret how much good music I missed out on first time around because even though I liked it I wrote it off for being rap or being too pop or too upbeat. But the good thing about music is that it doesn't go away! I'm still discovering a lot of music that I heard 50000 times when it was on the radio but never really listened to at the time. It's fun!
#red said#also i do think the fact that my family didn't really listen to music radio did change the ways i developed taste#it was talk radio or music my parents or us kids already owned so there wasn't like. a time i was listening to new music where#i wasn't also performing Teen Coolness for other kids. i mostly heard new music in the art room at school or in cafes or on coaches#whereas i know a lot of people who built their foundational music tastes really on from what was on the radio when they were kids#lot of people i know reminisce about hearing certain songs in the car to school etc and for me that's not music that's BBC Radio 4#idk i think it's really interesting that like. early developmental stage of music tastes#cause it's different for everyone. for most it's a patchwork of your family's music what your friends listen to and what's on the radio#as well as stuff you stumble on or seek out of of interest#and the balance is different for everyone. i think it says a lot about your experience of childhood#and i also think like for myself I'm often quite judgemental of child!me's basic and limited tastes#because i was pretty judgemental of myself at the time for not knowing Enough Music#and as an adult I'm like nah that's a pretty vital part of development. like you don't get mad at a baby for not knowing what words mean.#you have to start somewhere! when you're 14 you've only had 14 years to listen to music and for most of that time you weren't choosing it#and you probably haven't been going out to gigs or record stores off your own back. you're going with friends or family's recommendations#so like as a teen i knew my parent's music. i knew my brother's music. i read Kerrang! and listened to stuff my friends suggested#but it took time to build up that solid foundation to go 'what i like is a hefty beat/ bass and a lot of energy. i will find more of that.'
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r3ynah · 3 months
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I Can be everything and anything, at once
A 27 years old Phantom was challenged to a bet, by his co-workers at the watchtower. Green lantern stated along with the the other heroes that If he could help every single one of them at least once in a month while not using any his powers and he also had to be physically and mentally there as he helps them. the cherry on top was that he needed to use his real identity instead of his ghost form in this mission.
If Phantom successfully conceals his civilian identity, while helping them, he gets to know everyone's deepest darkest secrets.
But if he loses, he must do everyone a favor and must keep it no matter how outrageous it is.
Ofcourse Phantom agreed, because he was no bitch, okay so maybe he is, he only accepts bets like this if he knows that'll he'll win. so yeah.
Besides, having no powers for this, is really a piece of cake, if you're a raging gender fluid that knows his way around makeup and can easily change the sound of his voice, to be honest the shapeshifting parts that he got from his powers are basically just add-ons.
Well what was he waiting for? afterall he needed all the blackmail he could get, not as Phantom but as Daniel James Fucking Fenton, this was an opportunity to go batshit crazy and he was absolutely stealing it.
The very first hero Danny approached to help was Wonder Woman, who thanked Danny who was now disguised as a woman wearing a long ass Red wig, and some clothes he "borrowed" from Jazz who just joked about Danny being her twin, and wished him luck.
"Thank you, young lady for your brave actions to help me." Wonder woman sincerely thanked the boy in disguise as she held both of Danny's hands as gratitude "may I ask the name of my savior? "
"My name's El, It's a pleasure to know you." Danny smiled a little wider.
The second was Flash, which Danny found completely amusing because of the way he helped the speedy hero, who tripped while patrolling around the city.
Danny who was now in a more gothic attire( thanks to Sam's help) caught the hero's wrist before he embarrassingly fell face first on the ground.
"You okay there sir?" Danny asked, as he kept a firm grip on the man's wrist to make sure he doesn't fall.
Meanwhile Flash who thought he was in those korea tv romance dramas only blue screened for a few seconds before finally get his shit together. "yeah- um- name's Flash, and you are?"
The hero tripped on his own words, making Danny amused as fuck. "James, it was nice to finally meet you"
Okay, about like three weeks in, and Danny managed to help almost everyone in the watchtower, and only a few more to go,( he didn't get why most of the heroes he helped either started to stutter or blue screen in their spot once they talk to him. like damn is this how all of you treat every civilian who interacts with you? that's just sad) but at this time, Dan and Elle found out, and were now demanding to join, with the excuse of basically being Danny but in alternate or clone form, which Danny had no choice but to give in, I mean he wasn't breaking any rules so technically this was alright.
Danny wanted to take a break so Dan took over this time.
currently Nightwing was observing the outside of the gala, Bruce was invited to, something about a bunch of drugs being hidden within the crowd, and was now being passed around.
He intently remained focused on his observation, while also keeping a conversation with Oracle and the others on the comms, he didn't realize that he was too far off the edge of the railing he was standing on, until he missed a step.
Nightwing would never admit that he let a quiet squeal to his siblings ever as he fell, he closed his eyes and braced for impact, he would never expect to fall into the arms of a man 3x bigger than him, he stared at the man, and the man stared at him. 'holy shit' Nightwing thought.
The man, chuckled making Nightwing internally scream. "When I wished for Desiree, to make someone from above to save me from this trash party, I didn't think it would be one of the birds of gotham, to come and fall for me let alone the handsome one."
Okay Nightwing was now full on red from blushing, he was put down gently by the man on the ground, before offering a handshake, once Nightwing accepted the handshake, Dan pulled the hand closer to his mouth then gave a quick peck on the back of the hand vigilante's hand. "My name's Dan Masters, it's a pleasure to meet you."
his siblings can eat dirt on how they were teasing Nightwing Right now, but this was fucking worth it.
And the last to have gotten help from Danny was John Constantine, Danny actually had a reason on why he saved John for last, and that's because John actually knows Danny's identity, so for this mission he asked the help of his daughter Elle.
Elle had helped John by fixing a ruined summoning circle, who also helped him negotiate with a demon, and somehow all day, Elle just stuck to Constatine's side, her explanation? 'He'll die without me' fair point John thought as he took the kid, to order ice cream and to hangout in the park.
"You know kid, you remind me of someone." Constantine stated while keeping his eyes on what's infront of him, which was just a bunch of trees.
Elle who sat next to him, still eating her Ice cream looked up at him and said. "Really?"
"Yeah like you two literally have the same aura and all just a little different, but I don't know who yet." He replied and ruffled the kid's hair. making the girl laugh.
"Hey John!" Danny greeted behind them, and then all the gears inside of Constantine's head began to work. he let out a groan as he realized the girl beside him was the clone of the man behind him, well he needed to kiss that secret of his goodbye. here on this spot right now or he'll die of embarrassment if he waited any longer.
"Danny, let's go on a date." Constantine stated, not facing the Man.
this comment made the Father and Daughter choke on literal air.
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genshin-obsessed · 4 months
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Helloooo~!! Could I request the men in honkai star rail with an s/o who makes various different plushies for themselves and the men?
Just imagine Dan Heng getting a chonky dragon plushie version of himself.
✩ ‒ You guys have the most creative ideas sometimes lmao I would’ve never thought of this and it is such a cute idea!!
✩ ‒ I wasn't going to do everyone but they came out really short so I made it up by adding more characters ^w^
✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Gepard, Sampo, Luocha, Jing Yuan, Blade
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✩ ‒ Caelus
He’s not the biggest plushie guy out there, but come on. You made it so cute and all.
He keeps it safe in his room and does a pretty good job at keeping it clean. Like dust free and all.
Caelus isn’t ashamed of it by any means, everyone knows about it. He just doesn’t want to end up tearing it or something which is why it's always in his room.
Big fan. You made a couple of yourself and he keeps them together. They're together like the two of you are. He’s debating on getting a dedicated shelf.
✩ ‒ Dan Heng
He originally received two. One of his normal self and then his Vidyadhara half. It’s so accurate, too. He definitely spent a few hours analyzing them both.
He wasn’t sure at first but the longer he had it, the more he began to like it. He kinda sleeps with it now. I mean... they're just on his bed and that's where he sleeps...
You’re welcome to make more but he doesn’t have room to place them. Besides… how many could you possibly make?
He actually likes the little dragon one. It’s so cute, the details are well done, and you seem to really like it too.
✩ ‒ Welt
Aww, a plushie for him? It was so cute! It even had his lil cane and all. Honestly, Welt loves it.
He keeps it with him all the time. When you often go off on missions, he likes to hold it for comfort.
When you made one of yourself, he decided the plushies could never be separated- much like you two. So, basically now he carries two plushies with him at all times.
Pom Pom and Himeko gush over the cuteness of the plushie. You’re really talented, why not start a business at this point? You'll definitely get March or Stelle asking for one too.
✩ ‒ Gepard
He was confused at first. Why did you make a plushie of him? But he really liked it. You even got the shield right.
He prefers it to stay at home where his fellow guards can’t see it because it’s a little embarrassing. He’s a grown man and all.
Ok, but it’s so cute. The little hair, the outfit- the shield! Come on? How is he supposed to remain composed? He will stare at it sadly when he has to go to work.
He had to admit, when you made one of yourself it felt complete. The plushies are always sitting together on his bed. Sometimes, he'll even put a blanket over them to keep them warm.
✩ ‒ Sampo
Omg once he gets one, it's on his person permanently. He loves seeing you work on them, too. It gives him a perspective on how much work you put into them
He’ll give suggestions all the time and you do make most of them. You often make yourself as well and it leads to lots of matching plushies.
Sampo did try to make one himself but it looked horrendous. He tried to throw it away but you wouldn’t let him!
That thing haunts his dreams but you like it for whatever reason. Honestly, Sampo takes that thing everywhere and even learned how to wash it properly.
✩ ‒ Luocha
The accuracy. His hair, eyes, outfit, the coffin- it even opens! Like, the effort that went into that was phenomenal.
Luocha is a big fan and does keep the plushie with him during his travels but keeps it hidden. It's something that reminds him of you (ironic since it looks like him).
He’s rather protective of the plushie. Someone once tried to take it and well… he almost stuffed them in the coffin. Lmao jk.
… ok, he did it once and never again, you can’t judge him, that’s his plushie. You gave it to him, not that rando. And no, it wasn't a kid! Why do people keep asking him that?
✩ ‒ Jing Yuan
Mind blown. Seriously, the talent that took was incredible! You even made a Lightning Lord plushie which attaches to the Jing Yuan one.
He keeps them on his desk at work and no one is allowed to touch them. He's worried others might damage them, but he wants to show them off at the same time.
He keeps the one you made of yourself with him though. It’s his good luck charm. Much like you.
Secretly hates tearing apart the plushie version of you and him. Heartbreaking when they have to see each other go. Sniff.
✩ ‒ Blade
Ok, listen. This is Blade we’re talking about. He can’t just be seen carrying a plushie- and of himself, no less. It’s embarrassing.
Is what he thought until he saw how sad you got when you found out he left it in a drawer. On the pain in his heart…
Now he keeps it on his person all the time. He even learned how to wash it because it’ll get dirty sometimes. No blood gets on it though, don't worry. Just some minor dirt or something.
For tougher missions, he puts the plushie in a plastic bag to keep it safe. It’s like a good luck charm of his. He lost it once and he almost had a heart attack.
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DPXDC prompt: Valentine's day spirit. Superbat edition.
When Phantom sets foot on the Justice League base many years later, he expects anything but not Flash pointing finger at him and screaming about "legendary child who made Superbat canon".
~~~~
Being in Metropolis because of a ghost hunt right in the middle of a battle between Lex Luthor and Superman was not the best outcome, especially considering that Jack had his three-year-old son with him. But without such a combination of circumstances, they would never have found out that "Ghost!" "Daddy, no!" Ectoblast that Jack shot at the target of their hunt touches Superman and..really hurts him.
There were two sides to Danny-the ghostbuster's son and the astronerd. It is clear which half of him did not have a chance to win.
Danny threw his space rocket toy aside and grabbed father's arm. In the next second, boy had already sunk his teeth into Jack's fingers, forcing him to drop weapon. Youngling quickly jumped off and picked up ectoblast and then ran towards Superman. "Fly away! I'll hold him!" Danny stood up to try to cover up ghost (or alien?) in case Dad took not one but a whole bunch of shooting things with him again.
Jack: Get away from my son, ghost. Superman: Sir, I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding, I'm not a ghost. Jack: Danny, come to me, he's trying to hide his identity and manipulate us. Danny: No. If the heroes are being attacked, then someone must protect them too. Jack: But he's a ghost.. Danny: Alien or ghost is not so important, Daddy. He's in pain, and he's protecting this city, not haunting it. It's wrong to try to catch him for experiments. I forbid you to do that. Jack: Danny, champ, you're wrong.
Lex: Hah, what an interesting substance. Despite the other aggregate state, or rather its absence, it is so similar to kryptonite. Superman: Lex, is this a portable lab? Now is not the time, in case you haven't noticed. Lex: There is always time for science. I think my colleague will agree, right? "Similar to kryptonite?" Jack muttered to himself.
Jack: So Superman wasn't my target. And we are not colleagues. There is only one insanely rich man with questionable moral values with whom I am ready to do work, and your surname is clearly not Masters. Lex: It's a pity, but still, if you want to carry out the delivery of your wonderful weapons or exchange experiences, then call this number. Luther quickly shoves a business card into Fenton's hand. Jack*throws it away*: Come on, son, let's go back to the hotel, you've skinned your knees.
~~~The Evening. The Roof of the mentioned hotel~~~
"My friend Sam is also very frightening. And she also likes dark.“ The boy paused for a minute of thinking. “You want to kiss your goth friend?" "W-What makes you think that, kid. We’re colleagues, I respect him very much and.." "So you want to. It’s okay, I’d like to kiss Sam too but I’m afraid she’s gonna hit me. You have the same problem?" "It’s a little more complicated for adults." Kal begins to explain but stumbles upon Danny’s completely unimpressed look. Yeah, this boy apparently has heard 'kids would understand when they grow up' lectures at least thousand times. "But you’re basically right."
~~~~
When Batman himself comes to their hotel the next day as a representative of the Justice League to make sure that Mr. Fenton has no desire to harm Superman in the future and to tell that Superman is not going to press charges because of the ectoblast that injured him, Danny refuses to leave the room.
Jack: Oh, Danny, I thought you dropped your space rocket yesterday, it's a good that Alicia's Christmas present isn't lost. Danny: Well, dad, I left it on the roof of a bad bad man, yeah, but Uncle Kal returned it last night and we talked for a while. Jack: About what? Space, my little star? *Father immediately assumes that Danny would like to ask about everything real alien*. Boy*blushes and shakes his head negatively*: No, not about it.
Jack: Then what it was about? Danny: Secret superhero things. I can't tell you. I agreed to withhold that information as part of a pinky swear. Batman: And what about me, young man? You can tell me, right? Batman couldn't resist talking with such a cute kid. The boy thinks only for a second before hurriedly trying to push his father out of the room. Danny: Dad, come out for a minute and don't eavesdrop. I'll tell you when you can come in. The big man laughingly obeys. Lil child checks the reliability of the closed door and runs up to Batman. Danny: And so, Mr. Batman, first promise not to laugh or hit Uncle Kal. Batman: I promise? Danny: Good. This is very important information. Batman: I'm listening.
Danny: He thinks you're terrifying and wants to kiss you. And since he is afraid that you will hit him for this, I recommended him to appease you with a pie cooked according to his mother's recipe. Well, you know, since you love sweets and his parents' farm has the most wonderful apples in all states. He rarely cooks himself, but he will try for you, so even if he doesn't succeed, pretend that you liked it, please. Batman:...
Batman: Would you like to work in intelligence for the Justice League when you grow up? Danny: Actually, I want to be an astronaut. Batman: Our base is located in space. Danny:
Danny: Hmm, then I'll think about your offer.
Batman: Great. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Fenton. You can count on a job recommendation from me. Do you want anything as compensation for your consultation? Danny: Actually, yes. Mr. Batman, tell me honestly, are you a bat on a frugivorous diet like Giant golden-crowned flying fox or you are a Vampire Bat? Sam says that such a big bat can only be a vegetarian and uncle Kal said your son was more than happy to steal strawberries from his garden with Superboy but..
~~~
Batman tries to behave naturally for a week. However, the sweet tooth inside him still makes him clamp Superman in the corner and question him. "Where the hell are the pies you promised to cook for me, Clark?"
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etheries1015 · 3 months
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I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭
I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!
Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!
featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!
general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \
TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.
Leona
The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.
"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"
Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.
Ruggie
"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"
"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.
Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.
"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3
Jack
He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.
He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.
With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.
You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3
Azul
He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.
But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;
"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.
He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.
He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.
Jade
The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.
"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.
He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.
But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.
He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!
Floyd
Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.
You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.
"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.
Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.
The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.
"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...
He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.
Ya'll are so silly for each other <3
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popquizhot-shot · 4 months
Text
Magic
Moon Boys x reader&lt;3
summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?
A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort
@jake-g-lockley
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Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.
But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.
Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.
He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.
It wasn't always so nice.
"You're married?!"
"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.
"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"
"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."
This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.
"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."
It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.
Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."
"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"
"Yup."
"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."
Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.
"I know, man."
Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.
Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.
When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.
Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"
Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"
"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.
"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.
"Hi." you kissed his nose.
"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.
Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"
"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"
The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.
Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.
Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.
After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.
It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.
So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.
But not Marc.
Because he didn't like you like that.
Of course not, you were his friend.
You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.
He didn't know when it became something more to him.
And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.
No, to him, you were just his best friend.
And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.
Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.
You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.
"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."
That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.
And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.
As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.
He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.
"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.
"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.
Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.
What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.
'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'
Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.
'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'
When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'
You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.
"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.
"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.
Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.
Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.
But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.
"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.
"Give me the body, hermano."
"All yours."
Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.
"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.
"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."
"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."
He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.
Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.
----
Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.
He should have known that you were a light sleeper.
"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.
He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.
After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."
Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"
"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."
To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?
He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.
"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.
He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.
"Sweetheart. Please."
When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.
"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.
"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.
"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.
He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.
Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.
And they'd never let you go.
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yourmidnightlover · 1 year
Text
truth or dare... don't lie
pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: during a game of truth or dare, a secret about reader is revealed that xavier offers to help her out with.
warnings: SMUT LMAO, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (F receiving), virgin!reader, kinda soft sex tbh, reader loses her v-card bc i'm projecting, kent, bianca, and yoko are kinda mean in this i'm not gonna lie, theres a bit of angst at first but then it gets really smutty and comforting
a/n: THIS IS NOT EDITED! i AM working on a part two to my series, but i have finals this week and can't focus enough to develop the plot how i planned so you're getting this instead to tide you over... wooo! enjoy horn-dogs :)
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"it's your turn, y/n!" bianca started giggling as she took another sip of whatever alcoholic mixture she decided to deliver this time.
somehow you, enid, wednesday, ajax, xavier, bianca, kent, and yoko were playing a skewed version of truth or dare in xaviers single room. basically, it was the same premise of you choose a truth or a dare, but if you didn't complete the task or answer the truth then you had to strip. so... strip truth or dare.
it's not like anyone really cared, it was a week before winter break, and everyone had already finished their exams for the semester. luckily you were even able to have thing sneak into the teachers' lounge and bag some extra goodies, which was mostly only alcohol and little debbie snacks.
"what'll it be, y/l/n?" bianca continued to ask you. "truth or dare... or strip?"
you see, there was one MORE issue at hand...
you were down to your dress.
having already taken off your jacket, socks, and even your necklace, you were desperate to remain in the game with your integrity intact, although you were sure most of them wouldn't remember a thing because they had drank so much. except for wednesday, something about making sure enid got back to the dorm safely... blah blah blah.
well, and xavier, but you weren't sure why he wasn't drinking much on his end. maybe he was simply uncomfortable with it, or wanted to be the designated walk-er, helping everyone to their respective dorms. that's part of why you like him so much. he's so sweet and thoughtful, even when people choose to inebriate themselves beyond belief with alcohol. it wouldn't happen, and you know that. but a little schoolgirl crush never hurt anyone, right?
regardless, you needed something easy, so you remained covered and not embarrassed, "truth."
"boring!" enid rang out, hands cupping around her mouth to symbolize a megaphone.
"she is down to just her dress and whatever is underneath," wednesday pointed out with a nod. you turned to see xavier simply looking down at his phone, more than uninterested in the game.
"fine," you sighed. "i choose dare," you said smugly, noticing xaviers eyebrows raise as he made eye contact with you before you abruptly looked the other direction.
"there we go!" bianca clapped as the others cheered with her. "that's what i'm talking about y/n," she put her finger to her chin as if she were in deep thought with a quiet 'hmmm,' "i dare you to sit in xavier's lap for the rest of the game!"
"really?" your surprise was practically impossible to hide. "i don't think he'd be very comfortable with that, b."
"i'm cool with it if you are, y/n/n," he gave you a smile, one that you didn't recognize. it wasn't his 'i'm proud of you smile' or his 'you fucked up again' smile, no. this was a new one. this one seemed darker. mysterious. enticing.
you liked it.
"i-i'm cool with it," and with that, you got up and walked in his direction.
he had been sitting at his desk the whole time, in his comfy little chair. he pat his lap three times before you rolled your eyes at him and sat down on his lap, facing the same way as him. you tried not to put much weight on him, so you opted to sit on the very edge of his knees and let your tiptoes hold most of your weight.
"okay that can't be comfortable," xavier pointed out. "here," he carefully lifted you just enough to maneuver you over his lap, now sideways with your back against one armrest and your feet dangling over the other. "better?"
"mhmm, thanks," you smiled as you clasped your hands in your lap, one of xavier's arms still wrapped around your waist comfortably. it felt nice, like it belonged there.
from there on the game got a bit more... risqué. now there were kisses dared on cheeks, first time stories being drawn out, and so much more.
"xavier," ajax pointed at him, slurring his words with a big grin decorating his face. "truth or dare!"
"hmm..." he acted deep in thought. "dare."
"i dare you..." he clearly hadn't thought that far in advance, which is when enid leaned over and whispered something you couldn't make out to him. "oh that's good!," ajax whisper yelled, not being able to properly sense his own volume. "i dare you, xavier, to kiss y/n on the neck until your next turn!"
you turned to face him, your lips pressed into a thin line, praying that he couldn't see the rosy red blush that was surely adorning your cheeks by now.
"are you okay with that?" he asked, whispering in your ear so the others couldn't hear. once he got your quiet, but detectable 'mhmm,' he accepted the dare. "alright," with that, he got to work.
he pressed a feather-light kiss to your neck at first, and you thought you would be fine if this is what he would be doing the entire time. that was, until he began to press slightly open-mouthed kisses to your neck, occasionally gently nipping the area before soothing over it with his tongue.
there was no doubt in your mind that he could tell your heartbeat was racing. between feeling his hair brushing on the sensitive skin, and his tongue soothing his love-bites, you were about to explode. your hips were practically moving on their own at this point, trying to get whatever friction you could.
"hey," you felt xavier's hands grab your hips firmly. "if you don't stop moving your hips like that there's gonna be a mess between us that i really don't wanna clean up."
"what do you-" he shifted your hips up a bit more, hitting something a bit harder than his thighs were. "oh-is-is that...?"
"yea," he got closer to your ear, beginning to suck on the lobe and continuing his ministrations.
"in the school bathroom!" bianca rang out, laughing at whatever story kent was telling this time.
"i think it's y/n's turn again," kent diverted everyone's attention to you, so you tried to ignore xavier sucking on your neck like a leech, albeit a really hot one, to get through this.
"oh, and it's my turn," yoko cheered. "truth or dare, y/n?"
you really didn't think you'd be able to survive whatever dare they would throw your way, not in the slightest, which is why you chose: "truth."
"alright," yoko looked towards bianca and kent before asking, "what was your first time like?"
ajax might as well have ripped his beenie off then and there because you froze. you hadn't done it. you haven't gotten past giving a guy a handjob, let alone sex.
you didn't know how long you were quiet for, but you did notice when xavier stopped his kissing. you could practically feel his stare right on your face. you wanted it to go away. you wanted to disappear. it was humiliating, really. at least you thought it was until...
"you haven't, have you?" kent chuckled as bianca stifled a laugh.
"are you serious?" yoko asked incredulously. "well, i guess it makes sense to me," she shrugged as you tore yourself off of xavier's body, having to pry his hand away from your waist.
"hey," he held onto your hand softly and looked at you with what you thought to be puppy-dog eyes, you didn't have the best view due to the tears blocking your eyes.
"just..." you sighed as you took your hand out of his and ran out of his room, dorm, and the building as a whole. you just wanted to walk around, feel comfortable. then it hit you that there was always one place where you felt comfortable.
after around 15 minutes of walking around to clear your head, you got to xavier's paint shed. you had gone there nearly every time you needed help with homework, needed some advice, or if you simply missed him. it's amazing that even though he wasn't there, you could still smell his presence, the mahogany and woods scent that felt like home to you now.
you had made several forts in the place before, having secret sleepovers with each other countless times just because you wanted to. so, you brought out the mattress that was set up against the wall, put the fitted sheet on it and set up the bed as usual before plopping down on it.
you didn't even want to cry anymore. you just wanted to disappear. you felt like such a loser. i mean, why is that such a big deal anyway? it's just sex. but then again, if it's 'just sex' then why haven't you just done it?
"y/n/n?" xaviers voice called out as he knocked on the door of the shed. "look, i know you're in there. just wanted you to know that i kicked everyone out, okay?" you stayed quiet. "y/n," he sighed. "you know that just because you haven't... yknow, doesn't mean anything right? what yoko was saying... she doesn't make sense. because anyone would be so lucky to have you. you're unbelievably kind, and generous, witty, hilarious... and beautiful. you're beautiful, y/n. please just let me in? i wanna talk to your face, not some door."
you sniffled with a laugh, "it's been unlocked the whole time, idiot."
"hey, now," he called as he walked through the door, ducking down a little as to not hit his head on the low hanging fixtures. "why'd you run like that?" he as beside you on the bed, placing your long-forgotten items of clothing on one of the tables.
"why wouldn't i?" you turned the question on him. "i was humiliated," you began to pick at your nails. "i mean, you saw what happened. i was already flustered because you were kissing my neck and then i felt your boner because i couldn't just sit fucking still, which was embarrassing enough, but then the guy i like finds out i'm a virgin too! it was just too much. and then they were laughing at me and.... yea," you took a deep breath once you were done rambling.
"the guy you like?"
"you can't tell me you still don't know," you rolled your eyes once more before xavier grabbed onto your hands to stop you from picking at them like he normally does. "you. you know. it's you."
he didn't even say anything. it wasn't until you mustered up the courage to look at him that you saw a smile gracing his face.
"then you should know why ajax and enid dared me to do that to you in the first place," xavier scooted closer to you on the bed. placing one of his hands on your thigh. "i told them a couple weeks ago that i was starting to really, really like you-as more than friends. they went crazy, telling me you felt the same and everything, but i couldn't believe it. i mean, you're just... you're everything, y'know?
"i meant everything i said when i was outside. you're so sweet, and smart, and god, it takes everything in me not to kiss you when you look at me. because when you look at me, you really see me," xavier finished.
"kiss me," you told him in a soft tone.
"what?" his brows furrowed before you, with a shocking wave of confidence, swung one leg over his lap, now facing him and straddling his lap. his hands went to your waist
"i said kiss me," you leaned in closer to him. "please."
it didn't take anything else for him to bring one hand up to cup your face before finally connecting your lips. it wasn't like fireworks went off, or cannons bursted. it was more like a sense of belonging, welcomeness, and home. your lips had been craving him for so long, it was a sweet, cold treat in the summer as your tongues began to glide with one another.
once again, your hips couldn't contain themselves as they began to rock back and forth on his lap, this time successfully getting the desired friction exactly where you wanted it. you sighed into his mouth, your hands dragging through his hair as he began to nurse the same neck he was kissing nearly 45 minutes ago.
"i thought that would be the only time i'd have you to myself," xavier droned on. "i might've gone a bit overboard..." he laughed as he traced circles on your neck.
"what...?" you backed away from him before he picked up his phone, showing you with the selfie side of the camera how he had littered your neck with deep hickeys. "xavier!" you playfully shoved his shoulder.
"you better get used to it," he shrugged with a sly grin. "i can be territorial at times."
"god, as if you couldn't get any hotter," you began to peel off your dress, reaching for the hem before xavier swatted your hands away.
"let me," he ordered, you listened immediately, retracting your hands and placing them on his shoulders as he helped you rid yourself of your dress. "i don't even understand why you wore this since it's freezing outside."
"hmm," you mockingly acted like you were thinking. "well, when the guy i like is going to be in a place with booze, there might be certain possibilities and i wanted to look nice."
"you look better than nice," he pressed your lips together once more. "i was hard long before you even sat on my lap, y/n/n."
"please fuck me?" your voice was soft and whiny. "please? i want you, i just need you to-to y'know... please, xay?"
"you sound so pretty when you beg for me," he let his hand trace your neck before he buried his hand in your hair, gently tugging it back before admiring you in your nearly naked state.
"xay, please?" you were holding onto the hem of his t-shirt, nearly stretching it out with your begging.
"okay, love," he chuckled before swiftly tossing his shirt over his head, letting it land somewhere he wasn't concerned with. "now we're a bit more even, yea?"
"i just... i need you..." you were a squirming mess in his lap, to think an hour and a half ago you were pleading with yourself to keep your dignity and now you were begging for xavier...
"what do you need from me?" he teased, letting one of his hands trail down your front, hovering over your center. "i need to hear you say it for me. tell me."
"i need you," you sighed as you buried your head in his neck. "i need you to make me... make me cum?"
he chuckled maniacally, "is that a question? i thought i told you to tell me what you want?"
"please just make me cum xavier!" your frustration showed as you began to lazily press kisses to his neck. "please?"
he swiftly turned over so you were laying on the pillow at the top of the bed, him hovering over you with his hair falling to your face. he began pressing kisses down your body, gently squeezing your breasts and sucking on your nipples. eventually, after a few minutes of teasing, he reached your center. he moved your panties down your legs and began pressing kisses to your thighs, alternating between each one.
"has anyone ever done this for you before?" you shook your head 'no.' "is it alright if i do?"
"anything, xay, anything, please," you nodded as your hands tangled into his hair.
he pressed gentle kisses around your clit before licking one line through your slit, lapping up your juices like a man starved. you heard him moan into your pussy, the vibrations shooting through your core shocking you more than you thought possible. you reactively tugged on his hair, tossing your head back as he continued, now sucking gently, very softly, on your clit.
"oh my fuck," you breathed out, looking down at xavier to find his eyes fixated on you and your reaction. "god, you look so pretty, xay."
you felt him smile against your pussy, not letting himself get distracted by little compliments that he was sure melted his heart completely. one of his hands was gripping your thigh so hard you were sure there would be marks the next morning, the other hand was placed on your lower stomach, pressing down just slightly. he used the hand that was rasping your thigh and gently pushed a single finger in.
your mouth formed in an 'o' shape at the intrusion. his fingers were much longer than your own, and when he curled it inside of you, you swore you could see stars in his eyes as he continued to suck and kiss your clit. he gently thrusted his finger in and out a few times before adding a second finger.
"please don't stop," you were gripping his hair so tight you were surprised it hadn't ripped out. "'m so close, xay."
he stopped sucking your clit momentarily to say: "be sure to look at me when you cum."
you nodded dumbly as he got back to work, and it wasn't long until you were at that edge that no other man has ever been successful in bringing you to. at first you threw your head back before you remembered what you had promised him. with a few more thrusts of his fingers, you saw the look of pride on his face when he felt you squeezing his fingers in a vice grip, your mouth dropped open completely as pornographic moans left your mouth.
"fuck, yes, xavier!" you ground against his mouth as he worked you down from your high. "holy shit," your chest was heaving as he kissed his way back up your body.
he hovered over you as he sucked on the same two fingers that were just inside you, groaning, "did i tell you how amazing you taste?"
"will you fuck me now?" you reached down between the two of you to palm him through his sweatpants. "i really, really want you."
"i don't want you to just want to do this because you want to get it over with," you could sense the sincerity in his tone. "i want this to be more than just a hookup."
"it's not, xavier," you cupped his face with one hand. "i assure you, it's not," you smiled as he pressed your foreheads together. "you mean so much more to me than just one amazing night, xay."
"are you sure you want to do this?"
"yes."
"wait, i don't have anything..." xavier hinted with a worried look on his face.
"well, i'm obviously clean, and i've been on the pill since the eighth grade," you shrugged. "if you want..."
"really?" his eyes widened at the thought, you nodded. "i've never... shit. this'll be a new experience for the both of us."
after a bit of shuffling, xavier lined himself up at your entrance, looking at you one more time for confirmation. as he entered you, it was like the wind was knocked out of you. your arms wrapped around his neck as he continued to push himself into you. at a certain point, you thought it was never-ending.
"god, you're so tight," he breathed into your neck, pressing a kiss to one of your hickeys as he continued.
your head was thrown back as he finally bottomed out in you, one of your arms wrapped around his waist while the other was around his neck with your hand buried in his hair.
"so deep," you closed your eyes at the sensation. "'s like you're in my stomach, holy fuck."
he pressed down on that same spot he had earlier, very gentle, but you felt it so, so much. "is that where?" you nodded fervently.
"please move, xay, please," your hand was practically clawing at his back.
"i'm gonna go slow, okay?" you nodded at his words. "if you change your mind about anything at all, say the word and i'll stop, alright?"
"okay," you agreed with a smile as he slowly pulled back out before reentering at the exact same pace.
with each thrust, his pace increased. your moans' volume increased too. it was as if each whimper, moan, and plea was simply egging him on and bringing him to the end of that wonderful precipice of pleasure.
"you look fucking perfect," his own groans and huffs of pleasure rang out. "such pretty tits," he messily grabbed one of them. when he brought his hand down to play with your clit, you knew you weren't going to last much longer. "and such a pretty pussy for me. all mine, y/n/n. all mine."
"god, it's-i'm..." you were cut off by a guttural moan. "i need to cum. i'm gonna cum! xavier, please don't stop! please!"
"where do you want it?"
"inside, please!" you huffed out, clawing at his back as you whimpered in his ear. "need it so bad."
"say you're mine," he ordered. you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you.
"i'm-oh god," you cried out once more, tears forming at your lash line. "i'm yours! i've always been yours, xay, please! fuck!" for the second time, xavier was able to bring you off that cliff, this time he followed suit.
"so fucking pretty when you cum," xavier added before with a few more thrusts, his thick cum coated your walls. "oh fuck."
"oh my god," you sighed out as xavier slumped against your body, laying completely on top of you.
"you got that right," you could feel his smile against your shoulder before he began to press kisses against your warm skin. "here," he reluctantly got up from his position after carefully pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his sweats, and reached for one of his recently cleaned towels (he had a rotation for them, alright?). he began to wipe up your thighs, being very gentle at your center.
"xavier?" you called before he laid back down.
"yea?" he looked at your worriedly before you smiled, simply asking: "can i wear your shirt to sleep?"
a bright smile made its way to his face, "of course, yea," he helped you poke your arms and head through the shirt before he stepped back, admiring you in it. "i almost like this on you more than nothing on you. almost."
"xavier!" you called before shoving him to the side. "you perv."
"you like this 'perv,' as you call it," he rolled his eyes as he began to cuddle with you on the mattress.
"i wanna lay on you," you tried to get onto your knees to maneuver your way on top before he had to catch your arm.
"let me help you a bit," he tried to hide his smug smile while he rolled the two of you over.
"i'm never gonna live this down," you shook your head as he raked his fingers through your hair.
"nope," you laid in the most comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again: "y/n?"
"mhmm?"
"i might've lied earlier when i said that i told ajax and enid that i liked you," you could sense a bit of restriction in his tone.
"what do you mean?" you held your breath.
"i told them the truth," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, getting your attention so you were looking in his eyes. "that i'm in love with you."
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heyhihellosworld · 11 months
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𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫
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Charles Leclerc x reader
Word count: 2.8k
Summary: Your Charles supporter in every high and low, always there to celebrate and help him in every way possible
Warnings: Fluff, Smut (almost only smut), a little angst
Notes: First time I publish any work for Charleees and this became just smut basically. I didn't really have any plot, just started with the smut so it became a little weird but anyway. I still struggle writing smut so this is not great but I feel like it's getting better every time at least
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"That was really... impressive" you smiled sarcastically, catching his annoyed face getting even more so as his eyes rolled. "Can you just not" he sighed, stopping in front of you and wiping his face off the sweat with the towel he'd received after quali.
"What, I'm just speaking facts"
Charles didn't answer that, he just narrowed his eyes before drinking big sips from his water bottle. "Seriously" you hummed, wanting to push his buttons even though you knew it wasn't the smartest seeing as he was already annoyed.
"It is impressive, crashing two days in a row. Wow, I'm just so excited to see what you will do tomorrow. Maybe crash?"
Charles let out a grunt, staring at you really unimpressed by your attitude as you gave him your famous smirk. That smirk that he hated and loved at the same time because even if it could get on his nerves in situations like these, that smirk was also the thing he loved about you.
"You know just what to say to cheer a man up huh" he spoke monotony, not even looking at you as he whipped up his phone "Oh I do" you tilled, looking at him with a teasing expression but he only shook his head.
"You know, Carlos' girlfriend hugs him or comforts him when he fails" He spoke lowly, almost accusingly as he gathered his stuff.
"Lucky Carlos" you hummed, smiling at your boyfriend who finally let out a chuckle. The frown on his beautiful face melting off and relaxing
You moved to him, erasing the meter of space between you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
"You know I support you and I will listen to your rant all evening so I gotta have some fun as well. You know I love you and think you are the best driver in the world" you tutted, pecking his lips as he smiled "That sounded so sincere darling" he hummed making you laugh, kissing him again "It was"
Race weekends were a thrill. You loved them and hated them at the same time. Being at the grid was a vibe in itself, something hard to describe but being so close to the action also meant close to the danger. You loved racing but you hated the risks and seeing your boyfriend in the action left you with a never-ending anxiety. But you knew it was his dream so you had no choice but to support him and swallow your worries.
Ferrari was his dream but also his curse. The never-ending struggles and the pressure he put on himself made him overworked and twitchy but you also knew he loved all aspects of racing and he truly believed he could achieve great things with the team. You didn't doubt it but the road there was long and it took effort, not only from Charles and the team but for you too.
The day in honor Charles started at pole but there wasn't much denying that he had had a tough weekend so far, pole in both qualifying but also in the wall two times which of course took a lot of confidence.
The race was boring to say the least, nothing happening and Red bull being far top left little to no excitement in the top two. The real fight was between Charles and Alonso, Charles managing all the way to the podium.
You bubbled with joy as you watched him celebrate on the podium, spraying Champagne and laughing before he came down again. A large smile and Champaign covering his already sweaty face.
"You did it" you grinned, hugging him tightly as he entered the garage again. "I did, not the wall today eh" he grinned smugly, kissing you passionately before you pushed him off not wanting to be too much in the public eye.
-
You celebrated with the rest of the grid in a club that evening, not wanting to let Charles miss out on the fun just because you were there even if the Monegasque had been more tempted to stay in the hotel-room.
Charles was glued to your side the whole evening, kissing your shoulders, grabbing your ass whenever you were out of sight and always finding an excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining but he was touchier than usual.
"What's with you today Char? Go out and party" Pierre joked, shoving his friend in the shoulder as he sat on a small couch-group with you and a couple of others. "No no, don't feel like it" Charles dismissed. "What's with him?" Pierre asked directed to you but Charles answered anyway, eyes rolling at his friend "It's nothing with me" he chuckled, shaking his head at the Frenchman who didn't let up
"He is just a bit needy" you smiled, grinning at Charles who glared at you whilst Pierre laughed out loud, raising his hands in surrender "Don't let me stand in your way mate" he chuckled, backing away winking at both of you.
"For real?" Charles sighed unimpressed, looking at you with tired eyes as you couldn't contain your laughter. "But it's true, isn't it Char?" you hummed, teasingly tracing your fingertips up over his thigh, smirking at the way his breath hitched when your fingers danced over his bulge.
"Maybe" he murmured, shoving your hand away with a warning glare.
"It's nothing wrong with it baby" you grinned, mocking him with your expression.
"Shush you" he muttered, shoving you away from him whilst you laughed.
It didn't take long for Charles to run out of patience, especially not since you seemed to find a way to tease him in every way possible so when you arrived at the hotel it didn't surprise you when he immediately attacked you with kisses, eyes asking you to help him out.
-
"Aww" you mocked, a pout on your lips as you jerked him off faster "you're so needy baby" you hummed. Every time your hand went to his tip your thumb slid over his tip making him release the most amazing sounds.
He looked so beautiful when he was like this. All needy and vulnerable for you. His eyes were hooded, lips parted and his brow furrowed in concentration. A thin layer of sweat covered his body as he tried to let you do your thing despite his itching muscles and need to touch you.
He was close, you could clearly tell by the way his things tensed and bucked into your hand. "Y/n, baby, please" he gasped out, only making you speed up your movements. When your other hand made its way to gently touch his balls he was gone.
He threw his head back, eyes rolling as he stuttered out moans, quickly coming undone. The thought about stopping crossed your mind but the look on his face, begging you to not, made you finish him off.
Your lips hushed the sounds coming from his lips loud enough to be heard to the rooms around you and you knew he would be teased to death the next day if they heard him.
"Yes Charlie, that's it, come for me" you whispered, his eyes closing as he came over his stomach, body trembling as he breathed hard trying to catch his breath.
He stayed in the same position for a while, trying to stabilize his breath as you observed him. Sometimes you couldn't believe that out of all the people on this earth he chose you to be with, looking at him like this made you feel like he was something extreme. So beautiful you couldn't even describe it, lips parted, eyes hooded and skin shimmering in the late evening-light.
Soon enough he started to move, breaking you out of your little bubble. He got up on his knees, wraling the small way it was to where you were sitting crossed legged just right beside him before he gently pushed you down on the soft mattress. The playful grin he had on his face made you giggle as you fell on your back, inviting him to get on top of you.
"Stop laughing" he pouted, seemingly offended but the smile he couldn't hide betrayed him. "Sorry sorry" you smiled, patting his shoulder reassuringly as he hovered over you.
His smile mirrored yours, his dreamy eyes smiling too. "Wanna take care of you too" he murmured, his breath fanning your ear.'making you shiver. "Do whatever you want" you softly hummed back, gently running your fingers through his soft hair.
The way his eyes fell shut at the sensation and his neck craned into your touch made it clear that you were the one in charge tonight, he wanted you to take charge and he'd happily obey.
You let him be for a second, his lips kissing over your shoulder and neck as his fingers teasingly traced your panties. Fingers dipping into the waistband before disappearing to gently caress the soft skin on your tummy. When you let out a grunt of annoyance he immediately threw a glance at you, smirking as he got the memo.
You couldn't help but to let out a moan as his fingers finally dipped down into your panties. His slick fingers spread your wetness around before gently playing small precise circles on your clit. He loved watching your face whenever he was touching you, relishing in pride that he made you feel that way, that he could make you cum and become fuzzy for him.
His fingers found your entrance, slowly flicking into you making your mouth fall open. Your body wriggle around, trying to get away from his skillful fingers as it felt too good. His thumb connecting to your clit made the dam break as you pushed his hand away. Challenging him with your look as he whined, wanting to make you cum.
He immediately fell quiet when he saw your look, your hand wrapping delicately around his throat as you kissed over his jaw. "What was that huh?" you hummed, feeding on the sound he let past his lips. "Nothing" he hummed quickly, eyes fleeting over you as a wicked smirk crawled over your face. You loved this power-balance you had. Having Charles dominate you was always bound to be thrilling but you also loved being the one in charge. Having him following your demands was a rare type of power, of course built on complete trust. But you also loved how you sometimes didn't need to have any power, you could just be you, together.
Today was your chance to take the reins though, feeling like it had been a while since you did last since Charles had gone through a period of wanting control, which you didn't mind at all but it did feel great to take charge now.
Your fingers tightened slightly around his throat, not hard enough to choke him for real, just to mark your dominance.
"Thought so" you smirked, flipping him around so you were on top. You gave him a cheeky smile as your mouth trailed a path of kisses down his chest and over his navel, kissing over his abs and v-line as he breathed hard. Your mouth graced over his rock-hard dick but you ignored it for the time being, wanting to tease him slightly.
"Y/n please" he pleaded, hips rutting to get close to your mouth but you just chuckled, pressing his hips down on the sheet as you licked over his abs. "What is it baby?" you hummed in a mocking tone, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you licked up his chest before hanging your face close to his.
"What do you want, Charlie?" you hummed again, breathing over his face because you knew it drove him crazy, along with calling him Charlie that you knew turned him on when in this situation. "Want you to touch me, fuck me, please" he hurried out, his hands gripping onto your hips hard.
"Aww are you needy again" you teased, kissing over his cheek as he tried to calm down his shallow breathing. "Please y/n" he whined, trying to position you over his dick with his hands but you only tutted at him "No no" you chuckled, slapping his hands away.
He looked so fragile and vulnerable in the way he laid there, trying to obey your wishes whilst fighting to not break. His eyes were glossy, body twitchy and lips swollen from biting at them. You took pity on him as he wriggled, uncomfortably hard and face contorting.
"Aw baby, look at you" you mocked, wrapping your fingers around his dick softly which made him gasp out a moan, eyes squeezing together.
"Fuck, I hate when you are bratty like this" Charles moaned out, making you chuckle at him, smirking cheekily. "You do?" you teased, jerking him off slightly quicker, relishing in the sharp breath he breathed in before letting his head fall back into the pillows
"I really do, but I love it too" he murmured, biting his lip so hard it would draw blood "Oh I know you do Charlie, the submissive part of you love to be under my mercy. But the dominant part wants to punish me, doesn't it?"
"It really does" he gritted out as your thumb rubbed over his sensitive tip "Oh but I know you love this so much right now Char, just laying here and taking what I give you, letting me control you" your voice was thick, seductive and sweet as sugar as he nodded "I do love it"
You chuckled again, slowly stroking him before stopping completely not wanting him to cum like this.
You kissed his lips sweetly, his lips melting into yours as you lined him up with you, slowly rubbing his dick over your wetness. When you started to sink down on him he broke the kiss, gasping in symphony with you as you sank down all the way, taking him to the hilt.
"Fuck baby" he moaned, blinking quickly as you stroke his cheek, breathing heavily into his neck, your hips moving in circles, letting yourself get used to him.
After a few seconds of kissing and snogging you sat up so you straddled him for real, your hands planted firmly on his strong chest as you started to move more firmly on him.
His hands on your hips simply stayed still, you not letting him control your movements as you quickened your pace before slowing down, rolling your hips to create the best pattern for both of your pleasure.
Both of your moans bounced around in the hotel-room. No longer being able to think long enough to cover either of your mouths as the sounds got stronger and louder the longer you rode him.
"Fuck fuck y/n, I'm close, please" he blabbered, blinking up at you with the most pleasure struck look you'd ever seen on him. "It's okay baby" you hummed, going faster over him, slamming your hips down on his every time he bottomed out inside of you.
"A-are you close?" he asked softly. You nodded, stilling your hips for a moment as you took a grip on his hand, leading it to your pussy and firmly placing his fingers on your clit. Charles didn't need more instructions than that as you started moving again, rubbing firm precise circles over your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy, and tonight was no different.
It got harder to move smoothly as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly, your head dropping as your moans became louder. Your eyes found his, asking him to help you and he understood, meeting your thrusts with his own making him feel even bigger and reach even deeper inside of you. You angled your hip, trying to hit the perfect spot and when you did find it, it didn't take long for your eyes to roll as your orgasm flooded over you, taking Charles with you as he moaned out loud, not caring anymore.
It took a few minutes for you both to calm down and regain your normal breath. You lead him to the shower, taking turns in gently washing each-other to get rid of the sticky feeling of sex.
You wrapped yourself in his arms, peppering his face with kisses as he chuckled, wrapping you tightly to his chest. "Love you amor" he whispered, his characteristic smile playing on his lips. "Love you to Char" you hummed, stroking beads of hair out of his tired face "Love you even if you drive in to the wall" you smiled, catching his eyes roll before chuckling in defeat "as long as you don't hurt yourself of course" you added, kissing his nose sweetly.
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amomentsescape · 7 months
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Slashers React to You Being Harassed
Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words
A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!
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Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.
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Michael Myers
You were honestly a little scared
Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man
Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own
Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby
He was a blatant and proud stalker
So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-
Welp
The man is now dead with a slit throat
That was quick
"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"
He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home
"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest
He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks
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Jason Voorhees
This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you
You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two
But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood
You scream
The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer
"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."
He just tilts his head at you
You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now
Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder
"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning
He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out
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Brahms Heelshire
You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line
So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you
And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house
Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight
So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment
You screamed
It lasted a few seconds
But the man didn't seem fazed
"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said
"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him
The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground
Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock
"Thank you-" you started
Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house
He didn't let you go outside for a while after that
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Billy Loomis
You were about ready to punch this man yourself
But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone
This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you
But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger
A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds
After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you
"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy
It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion
"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"
Billy avoided your gaze
"Were you stalking me?"
"I like to call it, observing"
You let out a groan
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Stu Macher
You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself
This boy is glued at your hip 24/7
The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say
Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long
So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark
"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely
How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next
But this man was pissing you off so...
"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"
And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest
Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside
He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time
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Eric Draven
You were honestly getting freaked out by this man
In a city like this, anyone could be hurt
But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building
"Thank you," you murmured
"What was that?" the man spat back
You couldn't help but smile a bit
"You're about to get your ass kicked"
He just laughed at you
Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind
He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante
"Hi"
The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe
And he continued to be struck another 17 times
Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red
"You didn't have to kill him," you said
Eric just shrugged
"Oops?"
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inbarfink · 8 months
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Okay, so here’s the thing….
We are still at a very early point in the narrative of ‘Fionna and Cake’ and therefore at a very early point in Simon’s character arc. It’s pretty clear that “I need to become Ice King again” is not the end point by any meaning of the word. But I am wondering where we’re going to go with this, cause… The series has yet to really tackle how miserable Ice King himself was a lot of the time. And how often he hurt people. 
Like, yes, I was an advent advocates for 'trying to bring back Simon Petrikov was a really really Bad Idea on Betty's part, it was more healthy to focus on making sure Ice King was as happy and healthy and harmless as he could be', but I am also fully aware that he started the show being both extremely lonely and extremely sad and also a serial kidnapper who was very much a danger to those around him. And as much progress as he made during the show, getting Ice King to that point was a very serious struggle with a lot of backslidings and problems.
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'Friends Forever' is, for example, an episode that stuck with me for a long time as a really heart-wrenching demonstration how even in that late stage, when he has buddies and people trying to seriously take care of him - Ice King was still very capable of seriously sabotaging his own relationships and hurting others and himself.
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And it does make sense narratively that, like, characters like Astrid and Fionna and Cake, all of whom lack the full context of what Ice King's life was like (Fionna and Cake really just saw Simon at his worst and only got snippets of clips of Ice King and since Astrid was born after Humans came to Ooo that means she was also born after the events of ‘Come Along With Me’) all see Simon as a downgrade. Because they really don’t understand how bad Ice King was beforehand. 
And thus is does make sense that with Simon's current mental state, and how he is surrounded lately with these kinda people who never really knew Ice King and don’t really understand how terrible and miserable he could be, and now hearing that his ‘sanity’ just took away magic and whimsy from some else’s whole universe, and how it feels like the actual gods of the multiverse are telling him that he should be Ice King, that he's supposed to be Ice King....
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It makes sense that he might start kinda... romanticizing that time in his life again. 
You know, the big thing about the outlook that Betty should’ve accepted Ice King as who he is rather than basically destroy herself to bring Simon back wasn't about whatever Ice King or Simon Petrikov were better or 'cooler' than the other. It was about, like, embracing change. Not obsessing about a past where things were ‘Better’ but seeing what is the best you can do with things as they are. Moving forwards.
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And we all know how Simon feels about moving forwards right now…
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And obviously that's a pretty bad mindset, even if it's understandable how he got there...
And honestly, if we do explicitly acknowledge that, hey! Ice King’s life was often just as much of a depressive spiral as Simon's is right now! There might be an element of… resignation in Simon’s decision. 
Because Simon's downward spiral since getting cured is not a demonstration that he was better off under the Ice Crown's curse.... But, to him, more a demonstration that he doesn't need the Crown to screw up his own life anymore.
‘Cause as both as Ice King and as good ol’ ‘sane’ Simon Petrikov he is just as capable of being lonely and depressed.
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And just as capable of losing his own identity.
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And just as capable of pushing his loved ones away and ruining his own life.
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And just as capable of becoming a weirdo obsessive.
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And just as capable of making little girls cry.
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He even started kidnapping people again! That’s the Ice King Classic!
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So on some level, maybe Simon is resigned to the fact he’s always going to be SOME sort of screwed up lonely sadman who hurts others. And if that is his fate, he might as well be the screwed up lonely sadman who is mostly oblivious to how sad he really is and can shoot ice from his fingertips. And his arc is going to be about realizing that, whether he is Ice King or Simon Petrikov, healing and change ARE always possible for him.
But we’re gonna have to see where it goes…
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hello friend here is a potential lil thing for you: kas!eddie who’s a Good Boy for steve but is still growly at the others (think ‘it don’t bite’ ‘bitch yeS IT DOES’) (it’s a wip, steve is trying his best)
this ended up a lot...sweeter than i intended? and i'm not too sure about the ending but i had to stop it there or i'd end up trying to write a full fic (≧∀≦)ゞ hope you enjoy, friend!!
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“And he’s here because?”
Steve pats Eddie’s head when he hands the paprika over, smiling at his goofy (and fanged) little grin. He starts to sprinkle the spices over the pan, not even looking over his shoulder to reply, “He likes to help me cook.”
There’s a long moment of silence so Steve switches off the heat and turns around, thanking Eddie when he gives him a dishcloth to wipe his hands with. When he looks back to the group seated at the island, he has to blink to register all their faces of disbelief.
“You took our Dungeon Master,” Mike starts patiently, which Steve will give him credit for. “Who has been accused of several crimes and then got turned into a terrifying, awesome bat-man with, like, wings and teeth and shit -”
Steve could have sworn Mike used to be better at description whenever they play their sessions.
“And you’ve turned him into your sous-chef?”
Blinking, Steve looks to Eddie, who gives him a preening smile and takes the dishcloth away, and looks back to Mike, whose face is getting paler every second. “Uh,” he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Steve, I swear by all that is -”
Mike’s tirade is cut off by a growl and Steve lets out a sigh. “Hey,” he admonishes, nudging the rumbling bat-man with his elbow. “We talked about this, no growling at the kids.”
Eddie huffs and ducks his head down to bap his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. He moves his head from side to side so he’s basically rubbing his forehead into Steve and wisps of Eddie's hair brush against his neck, making Steve bite back a laugh.
Clearly, Eddie caught that and rubbed even harder into Steve’s shoulder until he broke into laughter, black eyes glancing up at him with a mischievous smile.
“You were right.”
Steve looks over to see Dustin staring at Mike’s fuming red face, deadpan. Eddie pauses.
“He’s tamed him.”
“What?” Steve sputters, choking out a laugh when Eddie moves in closer to nuzzle at his neck, hair now tickling at his nose. “Who tamed who?”
Mike sneers. “It’s whom, dumbass -”
And just like that, Steve is being held tightly against Eddie, who hisses at Mike. Thankfully, he's used to it by now and just rolls his eyes.
“Whatever.”
“Eds,” Steve pats the hand on his chest that presses him into Eddie. "It's okay, he's just having a Michael Moment."
"What the fuck did you just -"
Of course, the little shit can't keep his mouth shut and that just aggravates Eddie even further and well, time for damage control.
"No," Steve says firmly to Eddie, who blinks and stares at him. He then turns to the kids and points a finger at them. "What did we say about name-calling?"
"Bite me -"
"Dude," Lucas, golden child that he is, shakes his head and shoves at Mike's head. "Just shut up and eat your muffin."
"Thank you, Lucas," Steve grins and Eddie huffs, still holding Steve tightly against him. With a fond sigh, Steve wiggles around and manages to face Eddie, smiling at his fanged pout. "Thank you for trying to protect me, Eds."
It's something he started doing after a few days hiding out at Steve's place. At first, he was wary and would hiss whenever Steve got too close, only letting Dustin in his space, only really caring about Dustin at all. And it wasn't...unpleasant, Steve would rather he care about the kid more than anyone else than not at all. It did make cleaning him up difficult but having Dustin sit with him and ramble about whatever the hell he could seemed to help.
Then Dustin had to leave and it was just them.
And then Steve, eventually, figured out it was like trying to befriend a scared cat. Obviously, Eddie was terrified and just needed some time, space and a little bribery to adjust to the new...everything that he was.
So with some of that time and space, Steve got a chance to make his way into Eddie's exceptions and barely gets hissed at anymore, unless it's playful. Sometimes Steve hisses back, and the first time caught Eddie so off-guard that he held Steve down while sniffing around, like he was looking for whatever made the sound.
It made Steve laugh but just confused Eddie, so he did his best to imitate Eddie's chirp, the one he does whenever Dustin asks a question, and Eddie was so flabbergasted that he started chirping back without a thought. He looked half-insulted at the fact and that just set Steve off again.
Once Eddie figured out it was Steve making the noises, he got so excited that he'd always chirp at him, jumping into Steve's space and doing goofy things to make him laugh. It'd always work, duh, cause Eddie's a funny guy, even when he's half-Upside-Down-monster.
He also ended up liking Steve so much that he gets pretty overprotective, which - it's sweet, it makes Steve feel wiggly, but they're still working on who exactly Steve (and Dustin) need protecting from.
That one time when Eddie growled at Nancy for elbowing Steve would be hilarious if it wasn't so terrifying.
...It was pretty funny though.
"This is terrible." Mike says, and Will lets out a sigh. Mike gapes at him and throws his hands in Steve's general direction. "You can see how this is terrible, right?!"
"Brat," Eddie croaks under his breath, right next to Steve's ear and he doesn't even bother holding back, breaking into a bout of laughter that has him clenching at his stomach for relief. He can feel Eddie's excitement buzzing under his skin, right where his cheek rests against Steve's. "Snooty brat."
"Is he saying something?" Dustin asks excitedly and Steve has to wave him off half-heartedly, still reeling from the pain of laughing too hard. Dustin then sounds deadpan again as he says, "Oh, he's talking shit about us, isn't he?"
"Ressspect your elderrrrrs," Eddie hisses into the air with a grin and god damn, the look of pure devastation on Dustin's face -
"The first words he speaks to us since turning Demo-Eddie and it's about being respectful." Dustin hides his face in his hands. "What has the world become?"
"He gets his dramatics from you," Steve says to Eddie, who looks back at him smugly and nudges his nose into Steve's face. "Ow, hey, watch it -"
"Getsss hisss courrage f'om you," Eddie presses his lips to Steve's cheek and -
Huh.
Well.
That's new.
Wait -
"Oh my god," Steve stares at Eddie, who preens under the attention. "I have a monster boyfriend."
The kitchen breaks out into chaos and all Steve can think about is how pretty Eddie's eyes are when he's smiling.
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delugguk · 1 year
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Only Mine, Nobody Else's.
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pair: jungkook x reader.
genre: stablished relationship, smut, fluff.
word count: 5.4K
warnings: unprotected sex.
summary: there's you, who finds little things like eating perilla leafs as normal. then there's him,who finds such topics as horrendous. for him, this type of convos shouldn't even exist. so who'll win this battle? it's better to find out, now.
a/n: hellooooo here's the alternative version of THIS. finally!! I wrote this the same day I published the first drabble but never got to finish it until now, so I hope you enjoy this hehe. I really love them ㅠㅠ but I'll shut up now and enjoy their cute dynamics 😩 I'm sorry I took toooooo long to post but my irl schedule is kinda ass :( LET ME KNOW YALL REACTIONS!! I do appreciate it 👉🏼👈🏼🥺
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everything can happen during dinner but.. let me explain, okay?
when you start a topic.. normally, your smart and super interesting boyfriend rambles around until he can't stop his pretty mouth from moving - not that you complained though, you adore listening to him.
but as interesting as it could be, there was some nights were each topic jumped from fun conversations to.. sudden serious ones.
like tonight.
A new trend has seemed to flow around socials making everyone have these interesting conversations that.. you're not really sure if you vibe with them to be honest - but it is what it is as soon as seho, jungkook's best friend, brings this topic to the table.
and yep, you wanted to chop his balls right in that moment.
you could swear you were having a good time until that moment came. you and jungkook were oblivious to the matter for some reason so when you're having dinner with your friends, this sudden theme really got you out off guard because you just knew how jungkook was gonna get.
"so what is it about?" jungkook asked and now that you think about it, you wished he could just.. not pay attention but.. oh well.
"well, it's basically a question about.. you letting somebody else help your girlfriend separate her perilla leaf-"
"hell nah." jungkook cuts him out of his sentence.
damn.
"wait.." seho's chuckles, "you didn't even let me finish and you're already prohibiting that from happening." finding the situation funny.
you only ironically rolled your eyes with an ironic smile too.
"you make questions knowing well the way he is.." you say but it wasn't annoying.
"what's love if there's not a little spice to it?" he laughs. oh you hated him.
not really. but you know what I mean.
jungkook's just listening until he began to speak with a cocky grin. "do you really think I'll let y/n get feed by another man?" a small scoff of a laugh leaving his mouth, "yeah sure." as he brushes his hair back with both hands.
just laying back on his sofa, casually looking so fine. but this wasn't the time to think about that.
"It doesn't necessarily have to be a man, you know? It's just any other friend." says yoongi.
"whatever, I don't care. I wont allow it."
you chuckle. "mm.. why not?" sounding more curious, but you really wanted to know why he is so against it. "I don't see nothing wrong about sharing food?"
"not this way??"
"exactly?" seho's following just after jungkook.
"you, shut up." you point at seho. - now looking back at jungkook, "what do you mean 'this way'?"
"mm.. babe, this isn't just something you can share, you know?"
"but.. why not?"
both him and seho sigh. but just before they could talk, luckily, the theme dies as soon as yoongi successfully changes the topic to some stupid funny video he saw these days.
the fact that seho knows about jungkook's possessive/jealous behaviours makes this worst. they're like best friends, for god's sake.
after that little moment, not even a single wrinkle of happiness painted on your boyfriend's face but a slight eyebrow furrowing instead and it's just that his reaction to the matter was... priceless.
jungkook had so much to say but so little to think.. completely blinded by the thought of someone feeding his girl, this obviously wasn't going to end here.
..and you both knew it.
when you arrive to your apartment, jungkook didn't wasted any time to continue your conversation and it's just that.. he was so predictable sometimes, or maybe you knew him too well.
"what did you meant about that?" his voice sounds genuinely curious when he closes the door behind you.
"about.. what?" taking off your jacket as you respond, he smacks his lips in annoyance.
"you know what I'm talking aboutㅡ bam, hi" voice suddenly changing into a whisper-y cute tone when he kneels down to kiss his son.
"..hm?" and as he gets up, he takes your hand leading into the living room.
he seats first. tattooed hand giving little soft but strong palms at the other side of the sofa when he motions you to seat beside him.
when you cross your legs, you give yourself just the perfect enough space between him and you just so you don’t get any other contact with his dangerous body 'cause right now this wasn't your sweet, sweet boyfriend at his best. - not that he’ll do something bad to you, but because you were very weak when it came to having him close..
"are we.. really having this conversation?”
blinking many times as if it wasn't obvious, "uh.. yeah??" he answers.
you sigh. "okay." pausing, "shoot."
"do you really not care?"
"about what? food?"
he glances at you.
you exhale. "It's not that I don't care. It's more of me.. thinking it's not that serious."
his mouth drops into a little gasp. "how isn't it that serious? my friend could easily be feeding you.. you."
"so?"
"so???" he feels so offended. "are you really-"
"no, okay, wait. I do care about that. I dont agree about them feeding me. I don't like that either.. what the hell." you confirm because you realize. "what I'm trying to say is, they won't be feeding me."
"how?"
"because they will just help me separate the leafs, silly. they don't necessarily have to give them in my mouth?"
"but most people do. unconsciously."
"you do?"
"yes. and I think you can tell. I always do it with you."
"but that's because we're dating.."
"it's because I like you. romantically, silly." he flicks your head, making you blink.
"of course, so that makes sense!" you say. "I don't think a random friend will-- wait, friends can also do it if they like you.. as a friend?"
"uh-uh” he nods his head. “that doesn't exist when it comes to this food."
"what's so different about this?"
"you really don't know, huh?"
nodding your head, you shrink your shoulders as you keep silent for a few seconds and he crosses both his arms looking at you with narrowed eyes.
“what?” you playfully exclaimed as you’re also confused but jungkook just pushes his hair back once again, taking a big breather followed with an exhale. “babe," you continue, hands cupping his face. “tell me.” as your face gets closer, eyes trying to read his.
"they could touch your lips with the tip of his fingers." he says. big pupils staring at your lips when he’s soon piercing your gaze.
you do notice. butterflies in your stomach, god.
“no, they won't."
"yes they will and I can't let that happen."
you sigh. "babe, is not that big of a deal. you act as if that will make me fall in love with them.” then you pause to say, "which, it would never happen, by the way."
"but you could."
"no, I won't." you affirm.
"yes? you would." but he keeps being stubborn..
"no? I wouldn't?"
you both pause staring at each other and you roll your eyes.
"I still stand with what I said during dinner though." leaning back on his seat, you’re not longer cupping his face.
"honey, me helping your friend or my friend isn't going to change anything."
"you never know.."
"I think you should stop watching too many dramas. their messing with your little head." you playfully say while softly pulling one of his hair strings.
but he rolls his eyes. "how can you say that?" starting his funny drama. "those things definitely doesn't affect the way I think.." he pauses. "but If that was the case, then they'll be totally right because If it happens in dramas it could happen in real life."
"You're delusional.."
"No I'm not?"
"..and you want me to take you seriously?”
“babe.” jungkook warns, voice sharp.
“okay, okay..” you side smile. “I get it.”
“can you listen to me?”
"always."
"you can't.. you can't still do it for him or anybody that isn't me." he’s serious but his voice is so endearing..
taking a deep breath, you rest one hand against your cheek when you look directly into his eyes. "why though?"
"because I say so."
"mm… that still don’t help."
"yeah, it does."
"you can't just give me that answer as your reason why?"
"just did."
you lightly punch his shoulder. "jungkook!"
he laughs.
“you’re being childish right now.” you fake cry.
"okay, okay.." breathing, he goes back to being serious. "either way you still can't help."
rolling your eyes for the 281 time, you annoyingly respond with, "are you going to keep saying that?" pausing. "like is this about you thinking that's how I'll end up falling in love with somebody else? or… what?”
"mm.. yeah?" he's sarcastic. "Isn't it obvious?"
"how is it obvious?" you frown your eyebrows.
"because he'll give you one perilla leaf and you know how.. when somebody can't separate them, sometimes there's have to be another person to help, right?" he breathes as you nod. "well.. that person is, of course, you!" he argues, "and that could make you end up holding hands with him!”
"I- what?" he's unbelievable.
“as soon as I blink!" he continues - pointing at his eyes. "he has already taking you away from me!"
your reaction is.. well, you don’t even know how to react as he says all of this. only thing that could leave your mouth was, "jungkook.. you can't be serious now.."
"well I am?" he’s all pouty and annoying but you needed to make him understand your point of view and that’s all you think when his hands are lightly hitting his own thighs in frustration.
"well, that's ridiculous." now you’re the one leaning back into your side of the sofa.
"It is not?!"
"It is, and it doesn't even makes sense. I won't hold somebody's hand just because they helped me?" you blink several times as something that’s so obvious.
"but- how can you say that? this does makes sense and it can totally happen!"
then pausing, you decide to tease him instead even though you’re still serious. “are you, perhaps.. talking by experience? ..and that's why you're saying this to me?"
"no!” hands brushing his own face in frustration. "that's not why I'm saying this."
"then why you get so mad about it? It doesn't make sense to me. explain how it works because I do not understand and believe me when I say I'm having a hard time trying to." giving up, you give him a good opportunity to make you understand his point of view in full detail but that’s only if he want it though. you weren’t going to force him to do anything.
he was clear of it.
as soon as you said that, jungkook takes a short time of silence to think. rubbing his chin, rubbing his face.. you can clearly see he's really making up his mind for the way he keeps zooming out into his complex mind.
that could be pretty sometimes.
"let’s say.." he quickly nibbles his lip ring as his dimples slightly pronounce more and that's when you confirm for the second time that he wants to make this right. "..you have a friend, a girl friend.” you nod as he speaks. “and she needs help to separate all of her perilla leafs.."
"Aha.." you slowly nod your head.
"would you like it if I help? It'll take a lot of time.." his eyes feel so heavy looking at yours like he really wants you to say what he think is the right answer..
"..yes?"
but your answer is still very.. unbothered and that makes jungkook open his mouth with both hands on his head in a dramatic manner.
"yes???" he’s back to being exalted. “that’s really your answer?” he chuckles but it’s not even a friendly one. more of a sarcastic one.
“I mean.. what do you want me to say?! I just think it’s normal?”
“n-normal?” and there’s that sarcastic grin all over again. “why.”
"because.. it's just food?"
he covers his face in disbelief. "but I'm the one giving it to them.." he pauses. "Isn't it like if I was deeply caring for them? that's why it's wrong! It can look bad."
"not for me.." you look around.
he sighs for the 10th time smacking his lips as he reveals, "babe, you can't help others with perilla leafs because it'll look like you have second intentions with them."
"who said that?" now you're the one rolling your eyes.
jungkook sighs, rubbing his eyes. "it’s something to flirt about.”
“flirt?”
“yeah." he leans his body a little closer to yours, staring at your eyes almost intensely. you felt tension. not a bad one necessarily.
"have you done that?" genuine question.
"no!" he whines with the same pout on his lips. "why do you keep asking me this?”
“genuinely curious.. and you’re saying a lot of things.” you say.
he rolls his eyes. “I know a lot of people that do it..”
“how?”
"well.." he takes one of your hands to caress it while he speaks, "you know how hard they are to separate, right?"
"yeah..?"
"you normally will have to lean closer to that person in order to do so." he pauses. eyes piercing at yours when his voice goes two tones down. "people like closeness."
you nervously clear your throat. "ah.. yeah," immediately changing the direction this was taking— "so.. imagine we're eating on a cute restaurant-“ you fix your posture and jungkook only grins to himself. he has made you feel nervous.
he liked that.
“…with a friend, it doesn't matter if it's a woman or man” he nods, paying attention to your words. “and I can't help like you said.."
“aha..?”
“if I’m minding my business in that situation but my friend needs help, does that mean you’ll be the one helping them?”
"of course not." tone? annoyed and very serious.
"why not?"
"because I don't care if it's a woman or man, I shouldn't be helping anybody that isn't you. MY girlfriend."
that kinda made your stomach flip, let's not lie here.
"but then who'll help them eat?"
"nobody."
"jungkook!" you call him out.
but all he does is shrink his broad shoulders. “what? It's easy! nobody helps them! don't they have arms of their own?" he annoyingly responds.
"but that's so ass. it's not like you're giving them food directly into their mouth?!"
"..and? I still don't care! If I say you shouldn't then you shouldn't."
you raise your eyebrows. “okay boss?”
jungkook exhales, “I'm not saying that. but.. it’s just what's obvious? I can't help either and we're dating."
"..and you're possesive."
"I'm not possessive.
"yes, you are."
"okay, maybe a little but I'm not most of the time."
and that makes you laugh for sure. “see how you shamelessly lie to yourself, gosh.”
now he’s the one raising his eyebrows. “lie? do you want to know what’s a real lie?” he questions.
“yes.” you sarcastically smile.
“the fact that I don’t want to fuck for your stupid answers and the way that I hate how my solution to this has to be to fuck you silly.” then he whispers to himself, “fuck.” really wanting that to happen.
you were frozen, didn’t expected him to say all that. he’s surely crazy too because why did he had to say it while having that nasty smile on his face? why.
“then why don’t you act on it?” you tease back.
“because that’s a “lie”. he smirks, “told you I’ll say a real lie.”
“I hate you.”
“no, you don’t.” he smiles but then, goes back to the main theme. “listen to me, doing that.. I just think it’s thoughtful. like you’re clearly showing you deeply care for that person, you know?” then he pouts, “from my point of view.. we should be the only ones helping each other.. nobody else.”
you sigh. “okay.. I see what you mean. but I still think it depends on how you perceive it though.”
“fine, now you’re the one who needs to explain.” he said that with a slightly annoyed tone that made you chuckle.
“I think you keep seeing it as something romantic and that’s why you can’t accept it.”
“..and you think it’s not?”
“if I considered that to be romantic you think I’ll be reacting this way?”
“…no..”
“there’s your answer.” you smile.
"just.." he exhales. "take care of me and me only, yeah?" plastering his forehead against yours, his palms holds your cheeks ever so delicately when he says, "I will not feel comfortable if you take care of others in that manner when you have me. specially me. your boyfriend." voice so soft while pointing at himself and god, does he was really cute sometimes. "…would you like it if I took care of your friends?"
and at that question you take your time to think.
"I think it depends on the person too, jungkook.."
"why?" he responds as he is genuily curious.
"because.. Imagine if the friend we’re eating with needs help with their perilla but let’s say I’ve eaten that many times with them and everything was always fine,” jungkook nods his head as he carefully listens. “..so in this case, since they’re my friend I know them the most right?”
"yeah."
“but they’re asking for help, your help, when I know they could handle themselves just right..”
“I see where this is going..” there’s a little building smile on jungkooks lips.
“me seeing them acting dumb just so you could help them— of course that’ll make me definitely jealous.”
"you see?!" he suddenly raises his voice in excitement. "that's what I'm saying!" smiling brightly at you.
"but I'll be more mad because of you not noticing this person second intentions!" you defend yourself. "and because my friend must know I'm obviously dating you!"
"but see? you'll still get jealous, and this just meansㅡperilla leafs could lean into romance! you basically said it yourself! It's a way of flirting.." he says, looking very triumphant.
and at his reaction, you just roll your eyes smiling through it because you can't help it at this point.
"yeah..whatever!" you rapidly correct yourself in which he laughs. "all I'm saying is.. that I could only get jealous in circumstances like these because then I'll know this friend is obviously shamelessly flirting with you."
"but I wouldn't be falling in love with them." he says.
then suddenly, being caught off guard, you blink. “meaning… that you’ll help?”
"nope, I still wouldn't." he warmly says. "since I can't be comfortable with you doing it, I have to keep on my word. I can't do things that I wouldn't like someone do to me." then he adds, "and I would not fall in love with them, because I love you." he finishes saying when he plays with your fingers and his eyes tenderly lingers at yours.
"but.. you never know." voice small, you shyly say.
"no, I'm clear of it." affirming with a confident side smile. "I only have eyes for you, love." he says, gently grabbing one of your hands to leave a lingering kiss on top of it when your eyes can’t stop looking at his sweet actions. you do adored him so much..
"shit, I can't even look at other girls if it isn't you. I love you too damn much." he then chuckles when your laugh merges with his.
lovey dovey eyes staring at his.. “I love you too..”
with a smile on your lips, he mirrors your face too.
that night you both ended up fall sleep hugging each other on his big sofa. you thought you couldn’t get more comfortable than this.
the other night though..
“should I fuck you? nah… I don’t think you deserve it.”
you must’ve seen this coming. eager times always results into this. mostly when a jealous jungkook was very much present. you couldn’t believe how you were so easily lured into his words but the more you get to know and see the new sides of your boyfriend, the more you fell in love and the more you get turned on by him.
you couldn’t resist him in situations like these and it’s just that a jealous jungkook wasn’t just something you got to see everyday. he is normally pretty chill, but whenever he wasn’t.. oh boy.
…you whine with that. "Jungkook.."
"Jungkook, what? now you wanna beg?" a smug grin paints his lips.
you whine as you try to squeeze your legs.
"mm-uh." he opens your legs once again. "don't even dare to take this view away from me."
"but I'm so wet.."
"I know baby. but I can't fuck you if you keep playing around when I'm so serious." he pauses and gives you a hungry daring stare. "dead serious."
"I won't let anyone else fuck me if it isn't you."
"are you sure about that?"
"one hundred percent."
"No lies?"
"No lies."
and he smiles when a finger slides through your clit up and down teasing on it. "torturing you is like torturing me.." he sighs. "fucking wet." licking his lips. "want to eat you again."
"no," you fake cry still feeling his now, moist fingers. "fuck me. I want you to fuck me."
"is that so?"
"eunggg"
“you will have to keep waiting then.” he smirks before going down on you all over again.
"fuck, I love eating your pussy so much. always so wet and greedy for me." his voice’s raspy when he spits on it, just adding more into your dripping pussy. "I love making a mess out of you." he groans.
his tongue rapidly moves up and down as he adds a certain weight on it that makes you want to scream your lungs out. - making out with your clit, one finger slides caressing your folds very teasingly.
"jungkook.." you cry.
"what, baby?" he lowly breathes, eating your cunt still. just this time looking up at you.
when you look down the sight is just so fucking hot. your hands hold onto his hair as he gives you those puppy but very dominant eyes. he loves teasing you like this. he knows how much you love when he treats you like this.
"babe.." your hips thrust into his mouth. as you expose your neck to him.
jungkook leaves a slow kiss into your clit very sensually. "fuck.." he sighs as your arousal mixed with his saliva, dripped down your ass. your pussy pulsating and clenching like crazy. "what do you want?" voice raspy.
"fucking make me cum, babe. please" you whine, trying to touch your clit with your fingers the moment jungkook stopped eating you. - he takes his hands off you.
"not yet baby.. can't let you cum just yet." he sensually and very much needy bites his lower lip. piercing just shining. him very full of desire, just wanted to slide his hard dick along your wet folds. he wanting to feel you coating his length. make a mess out of you, make you beg for him to get fucked - to want him to destroy you. he wanted you to be left thinking about him only, to let you know how you were his and his only even though he was pretty sure he couldn't claim a person, neither you. but he still very much wanted to. he wanted you to scream you were his and his only. he wanted to have you whole. he also wanted to punish you for ever thinking about having help for someone else but him. is not like nobody could help you but why would you ask or need another person's help when he was right there? it made no fucking sense.
he could be seems as calm and collected from outside but his want and need into wanting to ruin you, begging for him until his name could be marked onto your skin were just fucking growing so much. he wished he could just have you like this forever.
"you make me fucking crazy. I shouldn't even be treating you like this. I should let your fucking pussy scream for me. be left untouched until it's begging for me to be touched." he murmurs, palming himself with one hand as his other one rest on your thight and his legs keep yours spread out enough to feel every blow of breeze as he constantly slaps his dick on your clit from time to time and the sticky sounds going in and out of his head made him want to devour you and swallow you whole. he felt feral, his point of possessiveness getting the best of him but fuck, you deserved this. he needed to show you to fucking behave and not say that stupid shit in front of him -or anyone- ever again. It shouldn't even be a topic of conversation at this point. It should be obvious too.
so that's why he's sliding his thick length along your slit and juices, hissing and cursing to himself a lot - closing his eyes every now and then because his desire into fucking your sopping pussy was getting into him.
"I fucking want you all to myselfㅡfuck." he moans. "I can't let nobody else see you like this." he then exhales, tilting his head back while closing his eyes. "only me.. fuck."
"I want to fuck you so bad but you don't deserve it." he tortures himself.
you cry and move your hips along him for more friction and it's so sticky between both your genitals, you feel so horny for him.
"why do you do this to me.." his lidded eyes gazes at you. "..hm?" he slaps one of your thighs. "you want me to fuck you stupid?" he takes both your legs, placing them at the side of his shoulders. "Is that what you want?" he pants, voice heavy and gone while he continues teasing his tip between your folds. "fffuck.. tell me - baby.. do you want me to fuck you so bad?"
"nngn yes.." you cry, feeling very hot and needy for him. your hips keep moving with tip and the feeling was so hot.. you were so wet it was an absolute mess down there. "babyㅡfuck. fuck me please.. fuck me." you beg.
"tell me how bad you want me to." he watches as his dick masturbates along your legs. he starts slow, later on hard when he's already starting moving his dick back and forth, pressing a bit hard on your pussy between your folds. "should I let you have it?" he scoff clicking his lips and a grin playing along. his legs also getting sticky with your arousal. "I don't think so.." he teases.
"baby please.." you arch your back, body distorting, nipples very much erect, your own hand squeezed your boob. shit, you wanted him so fucking bad. "I won'tㅡah. I won't do that again." you look at him with pleading doe eyes.
"do what?" he dares. eyes cloudy as he glances at his tip rubbing against your needy pulsating clitoris.
"ask stupid questions like that ever again." you moan as you try to open your legs but he keeps them close to his neck, adding more pressure to his dick. breathing hard.
"stupid, huh?" he rasps, chuckling a little about it. lidded eyes piercing at you. his tip moving a little more sensual and faster along your clitoris. He gives small slaps to it while he slides his tip.
It feels so good.
"mhmh-" you feel like crying, the pleasure only rising.
his cocky laugh resonating through your whole body.
"wish you’ve said that earlier.." he whispers. "because then I wouldn't be fucking losing my mind right now." pausing. "you're mine okay?" he says while introducing himself into your needy hole.
the moment he introduces himself, you’re squeezing him so hard he can barely fully put his dick in. "fuckㅡbaby, relax." jungkook opens his mouth into a gasp. "do you want me to cum now?" breathing heavier.
“nno.. but you feel so goood.” you swallow your words when you feel the leaks of your pussy. jungkook is the only person that has ever made you feel this horny.
“fuck.. baby.. how am I so lucky?” he said that one last thing more to himself than you.
after not taking it anymore he makes you ride him instead. “jump on me.” and you do. “fuck yeah, nice and hard baby.. so good..” as he holds your waist with his big hands.
eyes looking up and down your body it was as if he was admiring you. the woman he has in front of him. the perfect sculpture ever made, the hottest girl he has ever crossed his heart and eyes into. it was getting a lot so his natural reaction was to delicately examine each part of your body like how his hands fit so perfectly into your waist, they way your vagina swallowed him just right.. how wet you always were for him.. just the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wants you makes him crazy. the way you close your eyes with each jump or bite your lips giving him that pretty nasty look with a side fucked out smile he loves so much.. you were so sensual, he absolutely loved that.
“I love you so much.” he says before leaning your body against his just so he could start fucking you back and that made you scream.
“agh! mmfuck”
he was going sort of fast and deep just how you like it. the way you could feel his breathing against your neck made your nipples get harder but also because of the little rubs in had with his chest. you tried putting your boobs on his face which was a success so jungkook started to lick them or tried to because he was fucking you so fast now it was getting messy.
“I want to cum.” you say as you’re getting close.
“don’t cum like this.” he answers when he’s already flipping you stomach down, ass up. “let me see that pussy swallow my cum.” when he slaps your ass making you arch your back.
“fuck.”
you closed your legs and leaning your chest into the bed. this position making you hold your boyfriends dick a bit tighter.
he exhales with a ‘ho’ sound when he slaps your ass once again. “you just get better, hm baby?”
damn it he sounds so fucked out.
you felt so full you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m gonna cum!”
“fucking do it, I can’t wait neither.”
as soon as you do he starts fucking you with paused but hard and deep thrusts. your legs were shaking, it’s like he knows exactly how to get you over it. when he cums inside you, the sight of it was what made him more crazy.
“swallowing my cum just right, huh? fuck..” he squishes your ass to the point it leaves a red stain. “how you’re still so deliciously tight….”
and without noticing, you were horny once again..
if you were going to tell everything that happened that night.. you’re sure you wouldn’t handle to finish with just a few paragraphs but you could guarantee that everything that happened was worth enough to let anybody with more than their mouth open..
3K notes · View notes
allysunny · 4 months
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Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this
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Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
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Words: 15k words
Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.
A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!
So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.
There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.
This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.
Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!
Anyways, enjoy!
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Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.
Not that he minded, really.
Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.
He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.
Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.
He was better off without such people.
They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.
So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.
There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.
No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.
He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.
Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.
All but you, though.
Never you.
Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.
He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.
But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.
It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.
That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.
That's when he first saw you.
You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.
Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.
When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.
“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”
“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”
Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.
“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.
“Absolutely. It looks good.”
You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.
Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?
Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.
Alfred replied just as quickly.
Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.
Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.
If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.
Right, he thought. The cupcake.
Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.
It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.
The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.
You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.
“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”
“It’s good.”
“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.
Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.
“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”
“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.
“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.
“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”
“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”
You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”
Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.
“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”
“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”
So, he made you feel safe.
Well, not him – Batman did.
Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.
And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear? 
“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.
For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.
When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.
To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.
It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.
Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.
“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”
“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”
You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.
“You’re not at all like what people say.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.
“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.
“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”
Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.
“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”
“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.
You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.
“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”
Just a random guy.
Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.
In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.
It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.
But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.
You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.
Just a random guy.
“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.
And you were funny too.
“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.
“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”
“Please, just Bruce.”
“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)
“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”
You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.
“Me? Really?”
“Exactly you.”
“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”
“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”
At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.
Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.
“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.
(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.
“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”
You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.
“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.
“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.
Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.
The rest was history.
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You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.
Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.
He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.
“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”
“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”
“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”
“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”
At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.
He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.
It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.
He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.
“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”
He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.
In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.
Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.
Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.
(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)
It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.
At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.
He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.
You two had, after all, your own little rituals.
You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.
You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.
“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.
“I think it was terrible.” You replied.
Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.
“Excuse me?!”
“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”
“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.
You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.
“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.
“Language!” Alfred tutted.
“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.
“Wait – why?”
“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”
Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.
“I – I – well. I see.”
“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”
Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.
“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.
“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”
You scoffed. Again.
“He’s a misunderstood ass – “
“Language – “
“He is Alfred!”
“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.
Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.
“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”
“Name one thing.”
“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.
“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”
“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.
Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.
You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.
“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”
Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.
Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.
“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”
"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”
“Simple, huh?”
You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.
“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”
“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.
Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.
“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.
You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.
“Reasons? Like what?”
Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.
“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”
You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.
Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.
You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.
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You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.
All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.
Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.
“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.
He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.
“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”
You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)
“I can’t go.”
Bruce grimaced.
“Why?”
“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.
Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.
“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”
Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.
“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.
“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.
“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.
Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.
“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”
“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.
“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”
“I have literally nothing to wear.”
Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).
“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.
“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.
You pondered your choices.
He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.
Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.
“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”
Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”
“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.
You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.
Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.
When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.
“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.
“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.
As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.
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Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.
In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.
When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.
Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.
Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.
“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”
You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”
“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”
Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.
“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.
“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.
“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.
Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.
“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”
Bruce shook it and nodded.
“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”
The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.
“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”
“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.
“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”
Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.
“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”
“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”
“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.
“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”
“What face?”
“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”
Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.
“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.
Bruce nodded.
“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.
“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.
“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.
After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.
“Come on,”
You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.
Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.
“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.
“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.
“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”
“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.
He snorted at that but did not say anything.
The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.
“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.
“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.
“I mean it. You do look stunning.”
The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.
He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.
“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”
You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.
Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.
“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”
None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.
“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.
All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“
Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.
“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”
Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.
Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”
“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”
“About two hours.”
“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”
He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.
Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.
Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?
Friend.
The word tasted wrong in his mouth.
No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.
He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.
He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.
It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.
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One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.
(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)
Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.
The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.
Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.
Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.
Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.
You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.
“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.
Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.
“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”
You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.
Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.
At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.
“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.
“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”
You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.
Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.
“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.
“Yes please.”
Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.
“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.
He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.
“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.
“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.
(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)
“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.
Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.
You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.
“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”
He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.
He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.
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Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.
“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”
“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”
“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”
Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.
An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.
“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.
“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”
“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.
Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?
“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.
Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?
“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.
While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.
Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.
Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.
You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.
That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.
“Cold?” he asked.
“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.
“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.
“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”
Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.
After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.
Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.
“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.
“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.
“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”
Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.
He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.
“Better?” he murmured.
You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.
“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.
“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.
“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”
“I promise.”
You nodded and continued your silent stroll.
Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.
“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“
“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.
You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.
The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.
“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.
“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.
“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)
Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.
You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.
“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.
“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.
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It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.
You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.
After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.
After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.
“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.
“You didn’t have to, Miss.”
“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”
He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.
“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.
“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”
You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “
“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”
“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.
“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.
“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”
When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.
“Alfred? Is everything okay?”
Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.
“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”
Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”
“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”
“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”
You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.
“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”
“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.
“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”
“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”
After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.
“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.
“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.
“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”
Alfred shook his head.
“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”
“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.
“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”
You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.
“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.
“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.
Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.
“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.
He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.
“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.
“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.
“You’re welcome.” You replied.
When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.
Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.
“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.
“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.
“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.
“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”
He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”
He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.
“What I’m trying to say is…”
He thought about Batman.
How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.
“Is…”
“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.
He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.
He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.
He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.
And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.
“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.
Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.
Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.
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Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.
So, you tried to move on with your life.
A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.
One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.
“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.
“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.
“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.
Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?
And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?
Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.
After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.
Bruce cursed himself mentally.
On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.
Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.
Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.
As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.
It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.
You seemed so happy with him.
Seemed.
Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.
When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.
Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.
But that was it.
Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.
After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?
He was just a good friend.
You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.
So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.
But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.
You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.
And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.
So why were you so heartbroken?
Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.
You were in love with Bruce Wayne.
And he didn’t love you back.
So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.
Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.
Even if you didn’t really love Tom.
Yeah. No need at all.
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On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.
You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.
You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.
There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.
There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.
Something inside of you flared up the memory.
The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.
You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.
Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.
How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.
“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.
“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.
“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”
“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.
“No – fuck ­– it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.
“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”
You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.
After a while, you broke the silence.
“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.
Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.
“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”
What?
He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.
“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”
Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?
“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “
Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.
“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.
You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.
“But – Tom –“
“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”
“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.
He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.
He could give up the love of his life forever.
Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.
Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.
He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.
You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.
When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”
You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.
“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.
Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.
“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.
You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.
“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.
“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”
“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”
You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.
“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”
“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.
“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”
He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.
“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”
Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.
“I love you too.”
For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.
Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.
Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.
Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.
There was no way he was ever letting go of you.
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A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.
I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.
Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!
Have an amazing day, everyone! <3
897 notes · View notes
sweatervest-obsessed · 2 months
Text
Some angst for your morning <3 Love a little fight scene.
wc: 700 (ish)
"You're trying to distract me."
You hummed and shook your head, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
It was very obvious that you were, in fact, trying to distract Spencer from his work. But you couldn't help yourself!
He had been ordered to take the weekend off, Hotch crediting 'burnout' as his reasoning. Spencer did not take likely to this, since it made him feel as though he was slipping, he wasn't good enough for the team.
You, however, were thrilled by the fact that Spencer was forced to take a long weekend.
"Yes. You are."
"Well maybe if you actually took the time off like you were suposed to instead of ignoring me all fucking weekend then we wouldn't have to make me feel like shit for asking for attention from you for one minute." You muttered under your breath, chucking the pillow down where you had been sitting, moving towards the kitchen and away from the living room.
What Spencer had failed to consider was just how happy you were to have him home for a weekend. He failed to recognize the assurance that came with him telling you his definitive whereabouts for three days. He failed to notice the tension leave your shoulders, the smile that edged it way onto your face. Spencer was too busy internalizing what Hotch had said about working to much to realize, that you were hoping to spend this time with him.
Not just sitting in the same room as him as he barely slept and did the exact opposite of what Hotch told him to do.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing." Came your voice from the other room, causing Spencer to frown, because he knew what you said, and he knew that you knew what he said---he could start to see the burnout when he realized how quickly he would spiral in his thoughts.
"Shit."
Placing the book down on the coffee table, he followed where you had gone to, stopping in the door frame.
"What do you want Spencer." Tone flat.
"I-I...You were hoping for more time together this weekend."
You snorted and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Someone is finally back on their profiling game I see."
This caused Spencer's cheek to tinge red. He had failed to notice the basic signs of you being upset--Hotch was right. He did need time off.
"I'm sorry."
"That would mean more if it wasn't Monday night and you didn't have work tomorrow."
Spencer dragged a hand down his face. "I don't want to fight."
"I do." You said simply, looking at him expectantly. You were pissed, rightfully so. And up until now, you hadn't said anything. Admittedly, you should have said something to Spencer earlier. However, you were sure that Spencer wouldn't have actually given you his time or focus if you did.
"I--" He just looked at you. "I really don't know what to say to that."
"That's fine. You don't need to say anything. Maybe you should work on your listening skills instead."
"That's not--"
"Fair? I don't know, I think it is. Hotch told you to take the long weekend off to give your brain a break. And did you listen to him? No. I told you about plans I was hoping we would make for this weekend on Friday, that I know you didn't remember. And this whole weekend, you never actually listened to me, barely processing anything I said."
You took a breath, trying to calm yourself down in the moment, but not diminishing your thoughts, because you were right. And Spencer knew it to.
"What can I do to make it up to you."
You looked at him for a moment before shaking your head. "I really don't know Spence. I don't know." You brushed past him, headed towards the bedroom. It's not to say that you lost your fighting spirit, it's just that you were so severely let down by the man you loved that you didn't really know what to say anymore.
Spencer was unsure as to what to do. So he just stood there, watching as you walked away, not moving to stop you. Only flinching when the door to your shared bedroom slammed, and he was still on the other side of it.
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