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#like a man could literally treat me like a god in a relationship but i would still want to be with a woman

cfr749 · 2 days

Text

Initial Thoughts on Chenford in 6x07

All right... I'm feeling... a lot at the moment, so just sharing my initial reactions before seeing anyone else's. I'm sure my feelings will evolve. Also this turned into a GD essay and I'm sorry.

The Good

Grey acknowledging that Lucy was going through a lot ABOVE & BEYOND the break up. I just wish he'd mentioned the shooting, too. Lucy deserves to be more than her relationship with Tim and I need to actually see that in the future.

Lucy laying out 2 key things in her conversation with Grey - how easily Tim walked away and that he had no right to make that decision for her

Prior to the last scene (see The Ugly below), I thought Tim's interactions with the therapist were reasonably well done; if only therapy was that easy in real life lol

"You've always got a home with me" - I loved this final scene between Lucy and Tamara. I don't really have feelings either way about Tamara at this point, and this still hit me right in the heart.

Smitty's poll made me laugh, but also another solid indicator that these writers / producers do in fact really enjoy laughing at the expense of the fandom and shippers (which, whatever, I don't care that they do, I'd prob do the same; but it does irk me when people act like these writers should be worshipped because of all the things they "give" us)

The Tim

"I'm not depressed. I broke up with her."

"I was her TO." Not her friend, cuz god knows Tim has yet to deal with the fact that he started banging his former Rookie I suppose.

I dunno whether to put this in The Good or The Bad at this point; it depends on where they take it, so instead Tim gets a section all about why he's a dick.

To be clear, I do not like that Tim is a dick. But I actually do kind of like that it is very clear TO THE AUDIENCE that Tim is being kind of a dick. Do I still think people will bend over backwards to defend him? Of course they will.

From my perspective, I love Tim, I understand that he thinks he's doing the right thing, and has lots and lots of trauma. I've never seen Tim as a character that magically healed at some point between Seasons 1 & 5 (please see his storyline with his dad, his ongoing issues with UC work and unwillingness to confront or deal with them, his feelings about therapy historically, his inability to dump Ashley, etc. etc.). He's never been perfect and he doesn't need to be.

All of those things are true. None of those things give him a free pass to be kind of a dick. He still has to take accountability for how he treated Lucy (which, to be clear, was like sh*t).

The Bad

Lucy being petty AF with the invites to Tamara's dinner - let her be ANGRY, but give me villain Lucy over this dumb sh*t.

Lucy having no one other than Grey to talk to.

Others acting like Lucy is actually kind of pathetic (why do these writers love sh*tting on her so much? girl could not be down and kicked any harder at this point) -- Celina / Nolan and the double dumping crap, Lucy thinking Grey paid actors and him telling her she was out of her damn mind

The last interaction between Lucy and Tim. I am so angry for her. I needed to see that from her, but instead it felt kind of like her being dumped / a kicked puppy all over again. We got it, thanks. What's next? Lucy being incredibly happy with the hottest man on earth? I'm here for it tbh. Lucy plotting Tim's murder? Also here for it at this point. LOL.

The Ugly

I could not hate the implication of that final scene with Tim and the therapist and the door shutting more. There was ZERO reason they couldn't have had him show up during the day, and it actually disgusts me that they are pushing this line again, but especially with Tim. I am literally NEVER this dramatic, but in this case I really hope they did that to just get a reaction, because if anything were to actually happen between Tim and the therapist, I'd be 100% done with this ship and show as would a whole lot of the audience (I think). If I kept watching, it would only be to see Lucy be absurdly happy without Tim.

Well, what'd I miss? What did y'all think?

#chenford #the rookie #the rookie spoilers #see lana ramble #no one tell the writers that women can have storylines that are not about BABIES

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deluweil · 3 days

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To be honest the way part of the fandom has treated this Tommy character as a god makes me dislike him more. Unfortunately the Buck bi arc was tainted for me because it all feels force. Also what doesn't help is that Eddie was to much involved in that storyline.

The way people are acting like it's a perfect relationship and yet we barely saw them together feels just weird.

Also I don't like how some literally push Eddie away for this new white man.

This is Taylor Kelly all over again. The sad part is that the season is short and people wAnt to to spend their time giving more to the new guy.

I hope him and Marisol are gone, but I'm afraid. These two characters took the joy out of the Buck and Eddie storyline for me.

The fandom, I think, in this case, is definitely the problem here,

Lou is completely unassuming and enjoying the process and being a buddie shipper just like us - if one actually bothers to read the interviews and not just pick and choose what to talk about.

That is what makes me like Lou.

The fandom has somehow glorified Tommy's character after a couple of episodes and yeah it rubs the wrong way, because, what about the story we had so far?

Is season 7 a reset to 911? and everything that came before that doesn't count? Why not just make it 911 abc pilot then?

I don't think that's the case, but I think the last minute switch between Buck and Eddie kind of ruined it for the Tim because, yes, in a way it feels forced and out of left field.

Supposed that Buck was indeed vying for Tommy's attention, why do it like that? and why involve Eddie in the first place?

I have a lot of questions and my main problem here is not that Buck is experimenting with Tommy, it's the way they practically propelled this ship off the cliff into a dangerous spin, they went from zero to 200 in a second. - That is not how you build a relationship.

You don't try to figure out what you want, mess up the first date, then invite said date to an apology coffee and then invite him to family wedding on the way. It just doesn't work that way.

I may be straight, but I have gay and bi and lesbian friends, neither one of them has ever brought a second or even a third date to so much as a friends get together before they were sure that this is something that would last, before they brought the intended victim to be judged by friends and family.

And people who talk about Tommy as being established in the 118 family, that is not true. He has a connection with Chimney in that that he owes him his life and an acquaintance with Hen, who is clearly not very fond of him, because of obvious past she had with him and their old house before Bobby came into the picture. - Remember - Chimney was her ONLY lifeline in that house.

Tommy was not a liked character before.

Arguably Buck had more history with Taylor than he did with Tommy (which is none at all) - But Taylor is a strong opinionated and often self-serving woman (not unlike Buck mind you), emphasis on woman. - That is the only reason she never stood a chance. Because the writers could have made her and Buck the greatest love story this show has seen, but they continuously managed to ruin any fondness for any female LI to ever grace that set.

And this season is short, to bring in a new LI kinda defeats the purpose of re-establishing the team and this show, because it does feel the same as any of Buck's old relationships that were being pushed for the benefit of 'god forbid Buck actually learns how to be alone and healthy and happy' - the only thing that changed in Buck this season is his sexuality and nothing else, and that vexes me.

My problem is not with Tommy, it's the perpetuation of 'poor baby Buck' society. - I love Oliver and I love Buck - I am tired of the ever repeating pattern of forgiveness for his self serving ways without any accountability that we keep seeing.

I don't think Buck's or even Eddie's firsts or you know what? even seconds should be each other, I am more than happy to make this journey with them, but let it be a marathon not a sprint to the finish line - they knew they would get renewed for another season, they could have written and built it better than what we got - because the moment they switched gears after the second episode, the story became written in the same messy last minute way both S4 and most of S5 were written.

There is no grand plan, at this point they are merely winging it and see where the wind takes them. - And that is idiotic, they had SO MUCH TIME to make this a well written story with the strike and long break after that, to write as they film is lazy and stupid and mostly childish.

And yes this is Taylor all over again, not in that they are the same type of people, but that Buck is jumping head first into a relationship without actually knowing how he got there. - Bobby said that himself - and it is the same, because who in their right mind invite a second (kinda) date to a family event? Like dude have you ever dated before? Do you how this works?

It is a LOT of pressure and not even for Buck himself - because he brought this on himself - but rather for Tommy (aka the intended victim) to be first introduced to the family after a couple of dates when he himself has no idea where he and Buck are standing.

Marisol, has indeed sucked the joy out of the Eddie's story, I don't get why do either of the boys had to be in a relationship starting this season to begin with. Like, she is literally a handbag, the token hetero symbol, so to speak, what she is doing there? is beyond me.

The catholic guilt of her being a nun is bullshit, and as Bobby said himself, Eddie has no problem committing to certain people/things. She serves no purpose this season other than a seat warmer/ glorified babysitter since Buck is otherwise engaged.

They could have gone for Eddie finding his way in the department, Eddie dealing with his mommy issues, Eddie trying to figure out what and who he wants in his life, Eddie trying to navigate Chris' terrible teenage years.

They could have explored the fact that a guy going with his supposed gf/wife in the golf course checking Eddie's hot ass (6X17) - Oh wait, they were going to... the ground for Eddie's coming out was all laid out and they took a sharp turn to left field in the second episode of S7 and made it all about Buck again, because the Natalia actress couldn't come?? what kind of a weak ass reason is that?

And yes, the cliche of receiving the odd white man out (who played a controversial role in early seasons) rather than the regular casted poc male or the guest starring woman, for that matter, better is all kind of f-ed up, but no one would talk about that, of course. 👀

Anyway, I am hoping that whatever is coming next will be worthy of our time and attention because so far we got about more of the same as far as Buck and Eddie are concerned - except that Buck has just broaden his variety and has a bigger pallet of mate choosing at his disposal.

I have two very close bi friends, so I know how their minds work, because God knows they share with me more than I ever wanted to know lol. And one of them is watching 911 with me and she is happy for the rep as well, but unhappy with how it was developed too.

At the moment, I have decided to put any Buck and Eddie topics aside and just want to get the LONG AWAITED Madney wedding, if anyone deserve a happy ending, it's them. ❤️

#911 ask #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #marisol whatever her last name is #buddie #911 spoilers #911 speculation #don't you dare to rb this with an opposing opinion - i don't care that you think tommy farts rainbows out of his ass make your own post #and if you don't like what i write block me so you can save me the trouble of blocking you #not directed to this anon #just a warning to toxic fandom groopies that has done it before - naturally they were blocked #I am entitled to my opinion just like you are entitled to yours #deluweil replies

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voxentino · 3 months

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Can you maybe write a NSFW alphabet for Adam? You don't have to if you don't wanna but I'd LOVE to see it >_< <3

ADAM NSFW ALPHABET

WARNINGS: General NSFW Content, Swearing

A/N: First request done! Hope you all enjoy, I have alotttt of Adam requests so stay tuned!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Adam doesn’t go all out when it comes to after care, he’s all about the pleasure aspect of sex, the most he’d be doing after sex giving you some kisses and a few compliments, he wouldn’t help clean you up though. (He likes it messy.)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His dick. Literally doesn’t shut up about it. Even when you two are going at it he’s talking about it, stuff like “how does it feel to be fucked by the original dick, baby?”

But you though? Depends on your genitals, if you have a vagina then yeah, that’s his favourite thing about you, because if he isn’t talking about his dick then he’s probably talking about vaginas. If you don’t have one, then it definitely be your ass.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Like I said, he likes it messy, specially likes you messy. I’m talking cumming on your face, your chest, basically you in general he’s down to make a mess of.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Adam will never admit he has a praise kink (but god is it so obvious) He’ll gloat about how amazing and sexy he is when he’s pounding into you because deep down he wants to to agree with him. (If you feed into that, you’re in for a treat)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Adam has had two wives and even after those ships sailed, he’s been fucking around since the creation of earth, anything you could think of doing in bed with him, he’s probably done.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He frequently changes the positions of you two when you’re going at it, but missionary is definitely one of the many he uses more often than some.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Let me just say, this man could be saying some of the most dirty talk to you and then break out in laughter at the slightest thing. If you are sensitive or loud in bed he’ll probably chuckle at your reactions, in a ‘wow this is amusing and hot at the same time’ kind of way and not an asshole type of way (for once.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps his lower regions relatively short, he’s just too lazy to keep trimming his body hair all the time, plus he’s the original dick after all! In his eyes, literally no one can compare to him, regardless of the physical aspects.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He isn’t too focused on the intimacy aspect of sex, he’s definitely just focused on pleasure, but he does consider your pleasure aswell! He’ll ask you if your enjoying it, etc (he definitely doesn’t want you to praise him, definitely not)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This man has a high sex drive, I’m talking DAILY and if you’re not available whenever the mood strikes then he’s gotta take matters into his own hands, literally. He’ll definitely bitch and moan about it to you after, saying you have to make it up to him (he’s definitely secretly self conscious of you not being satisfied with him, regarding sex and your relationship, so make sure to calm the man child down so he doesn’t jump to conclusions)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Exposition, he absolutely loves attention and what’s a better way to get attention than sex? If you’re in a serious relationship, he probably wouldn’t be too keen on fucking you in-front of people but he loves the feeling of knowing someone could walk in on you at any moment (of course if anyone did see specifically you naked, he’d at the very least incinerate them)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Definitely on his bed, his number one priority is pleasure, so if he’s doing it anywhere, then it’s gonna be somewhere that at least has cushions.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Like I said, high sex drive. He gets in the mood very quickly. Wearing clothing that’s a bit too tight so it really shows off your body? He’s got a boner. Bend over to grab something? He’s already hauling both your asses to the nearest bed.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He absolutely will not bottom, he needs to be in control at all times and it’s not that he doesn’t trust you to do that with you but he cannot push past letting someone other than himself taking the lead when it comes to intercourse.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Adam definitely wouldn’t complain either way. Having you on your knees, sucking his cock? If he wasn’t already in heaven, he would’ve ascended there by now! He’s also very very good with his tongue, so whichever part he’s going at, trust me, you’re in for a good time.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough is his middle name, he can spend some other time doing gentle shit with you whenever he doesn’t want to pound you into his mattress (which isn’t a lot..)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

With such a high sex drive while having important duties as an angel, quickies are very frequent with you two. Most commonly in the morning before he has to be productive before lute breaks into his home or during lunch where he can slip away.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Anything you can think of doing with him, Adam has probably tried it, he doesn’t mind most kinks, as long as he gets plenty of pleasure out of it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If you two aren’t short for time, he averages a good three rounds, but after the third round he’s definitely having a nap, not because he’s exhausted but because he’s actually got all his pent up energy out and gets super relaxed that he can help but fall asleep

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s definitely the type of person to say “why would you need toys when you’ve got me?”. It’s many because he worries about not being enough for you and also he just can’t comprehend why you’d need a dildo when you have the original dick??

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he loves to tease you, especially if you’re being bratty, he’d say stuff like “aww.. where’s the attitude from earlier go, sweetheart? Don’t tell me I’ve fucked it all out of you already, I’m just getting started.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s definitely loud, wants everyone to know how good he feels and the word shame is not in his dictionary. As for sounds, he’s definitely a grunt and/or swearing kind of guy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

100% has nipple piercings, and will try his hardest to pretend to be unfazed by you playing with them. (It’s genuinely so obvious that it isn’t even embarrassing, it’s just funny)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Adam’s dick is 7.7 inches (yes he measured it exactly to the decimals) so whenever you’re talking about his dick, which is frequent, he will remind you of this fact

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Like ive been saying this entire alphabet, sex drive = high. You could even compare him to a rabbit but it’s a pretty close draw

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If you two go at it for awhile, he’ll sleep like a baby but if it’s just one round or a quickie, he’ll probably have more energy afterwards compared to when he started

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader

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lovesickry · 7 months

Text

- wish you would.

┈⋆⭒ lando norris x fem!reader [8k] ┈⋆⭒ masterlist! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: 18+, pwp, smut, angst, dickhead lando, dickhead reader, swearing, alcohol consumption, general stupidness. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: this has been brewing for the longest time in the depths of my brain istg, its a long one.

your relationship with lando recently, had more or less been……tainted. by some imaginary force, but some force nonetheless.

you’d fallen out of touch simply and quickly but you missed him, as any “friend” would do. moping about in the house you shared with max and him, it wanst fucking fair, he didnt get to do this to you. It had been four weeks since you last heard from him, max was god knows where, off with Lando and here you sat.

it was just fucking miserable. Four weeks ago you were in fucking ibiza and now your bestfriend hated you, so your life definitely wasn’t going as you thought it would have.

Didnt help that on the last time you saw him you may or may not have fucked in a bathroom stall and then just pretended nothing happened the rest of your trip. Though when the season started again he didn’t respond to a single one of your texts, or quite literally communicate with you in any way whatsoever.

//// communication over the past few weeks:

4 weeks ago:

hey lando was the the flight back alright?

lando?

3 weeks ago:

are you alive?

max told me you're alive so what is it then?

2 weeks ago

oh come on lando

LANDO?

you can't just ignore me and fucking see max every weekend are you joking?

A week ago:

can you just talk to me?

you were practically furious, after the confusion went away, after the tears went away you were just furious. with him, how he treated you.

Originally you had tried to brush it off, that it was just him coming to terms with his breakup with luisa and you being (so you thought) the first person he had been with since, but the breakup was 4 months prior to Ibiza and you couldn't dismiss it as a simple "fuck". Not with all your history.

The worst part though, you remembered every little detail.....every time his skin touched yours, every single thing he whispered in your ear, each time he did something that made your stomach tighten or the hairs on your neck stand up. It would've been easier if you hadn't thought about that night, but that would be a lie. It sat there in the corners of your mind every waking moment and you couldnt shake it and now he wouldnt even fucking talk to you. Asshole. You'd be seeing Lando in a week nonetheless, he couldn't exactly avoid you considering you lived in the same house and he would be in the country. Though you couldn't count on it, considering the lengths he's went to so far.

///// FOUR WEEKS AGO- {Ibiza. Following the Spanish Grand Prix.}

his laughs were muffled as his mouth hits yours, his hands guiding you against the furthest wall of the bathroom. the music was loud and you could still hear it through the concrete walls of the bathroom.

it was lit by purple light and as you pulled back, now flush against lando and opened your eyes you swore lando looked less like a man and more like something else entirely. his hands were on your hips far too fast for somebody who hasn’t thought about this before, wanting to kiss every inch of your neck as your hands grabbed and tugged lightly at his curls. every noise he made was heaven, every touch a gift.

“I want to be inside you”

You could've sworn that comment made you blush, or atleast freeze up a little. Your stomach coiling and heating as he met your gaze. Fucking hell. His lips were puffy, his hair a mess.

He had never looked better a day in his life, you were frantic the way you kneeled in front of him to undo his belt and then his trousers.

“Fuck look at you”

“Oh my god”

If you weren't wet you sure were now, Lando had one of those mouths that was rarely closed and in this case you were glad for it. He wasn't afraid to make noises with you either, each rhythmic sound leaving his mouth dug the hole deeper and deeper.

By the time Lando was stripped to his boxers and you to your bra and panties he was desperate, making it known just how much he wanted, needed you. his hands were having trouble staying still and yours were roaming all across his stomach while he repeated your name in you ear, like a mantra.

He was searing hot, the muscle on his stomach was flushed and you could feel him grimacing in your neck the longer your hands lingered on a particular place. The minute your hands drifted down to where you needed him most he made a kind of pleased breathy nose, squeezing at the skin of your waist.

“You’re so fucking hot” you say to him, figuring its about time he knows the effect he has on you as well. Hands drifting lower, under the band of his boxers, hes painfully hard, tip sensitive and pink as you pull his boxers down. He drawls out a long fuck, before pulling you in for one more kiss and then pushing you impossibly closer to the wall.

“Tell me if it hurts okay”

What you would've thought as cocky coming out of anyone's mouth, was sincere coming out of Lando’s, he was……significantly big. As he finally pushed into you, holding the back of your head as to not let it hit the wall he whispered sweet filth into your ear.

“Good girl”

“You can take it”

“So good”

“fuck”

It was all too much, as he bottomed out finally you already felt close and as he moved. Oh god it was already perfect, the buildup and finally this. His body moved rhythmically, controlled and delicious. His hands were mainly used to hold you in place, while yours found the places he liked to be touched most and paid attention to those, relishing in the tiny noises he made in response to you. You could tell Lando was getting close when his thrusts started getting sloppier, less regular, more effort, at that point you brought a hand to your clit, rubbing small circles, trying to read when he was cumming so you could cum too.

“I'm getting close” he choked out, god his words alone coiled your stomach further.

“I’ll come when you do” you say, nodding at him.

“Fuck-yes” another breathy line of speech, followed by sloppy, messy thrusts and some audible groans.

Finally you feel him, pulsing inside of you and you know hes just there, just about there.

“Im-” he goes to say, but you already know.

“Yeah. fuck. Please” your desperate now.

You come with your eyes closed, legs shaking and the feeling of warmth filling your stomach as Lando pulls out and youre met with the blurred sight of a supremely dishevelled Lando whos basically holding you upright and grinning at you so fucking hard youre sure his cheeks would hurt. You lean slightly forward, resting your forward on his shoulder, still breathing hard, heart beating much too fast than normal.

“Why didn't we do that any fucking sooner?” he says, his body shaking slightly, from ecstasy but also from the laugh that rocks his body.You can't help but grin at the comment, feeling the effect of post-orgasm and also from the alcohol earlier. Getting your clothes on is a clumsy, messy endeavour and you both look entirely suspicious when you exit the large bathroom still in fits of giggles.

///// NOW- London. Week of the Silverstone Grand Prix

you recalled the moment with complete contentment, there wasn't a moment you could pinpoint that could warrant this reaction from him. sure he could be feeling a bit confused but seriously?

the text from max announcing that they were on their way was a kind gesture but fundamentally futile. as much as you could avoid Lando you would have to talk to him at one point of another, living arrangements in mind.

The ten minutes awaiting their arrival were ones of complete disdain and anxiousness. Followed by deciding you would go out for a walk to miss them entering the house, leaving just as you heard the front door opening, texting max you were out for a walk. You hoped that by walking at least around the block, maybe you'd clear your mind slightly, being out in nature and all. You walked for about an hour, until the sun started to go down and you figured you should probably go home. The walk had helped slightly, Lando was now only a part of much bigger problems you'd formed in your head. Entering the front door and immediately hearing Lando’s laugh instilled something within you. You were never quiet but in this moment you were, Lando spotted you as he waved to Max in the kitchen and immediately walked towards you. Pulling you into a surprising hug, even Max was shocked, knowing of the circumstances over the last few weeks. Your hands stayed at your sides while he hugged you, not wanting to reciprocate something that was not genuine. After pulling away he went back to wherever he was and Max simply raised his eyebrows at you before shrugging his shoulders. You ate dinner in your room and didn't hear from him all night.

The morning was strange? Lando was almost normal? Like nothing had happened the past weeks, like he had fucking ignored you. You couldn't tell if it was encouraging or unsettling. He sat next to you and asked you about what you’d been up to and genuinely seemed interested. The ignored messages nagged at the back of your mind, bring it up, bring it up. You never did, Max watched on in quiet surprise as the conversation flowed. Not once was the communication, or lack thereof over the past few weeks mentioned. Undeniably odd. The only normal thing that occurred all day was the momentous decision of which Lando decided to pull you away for a chat, you could finally hash it out.

“Sorry i just wanted to say”

He cleared his throat.

“About IBiza”

“Lando-” you go to say, wanting to apologise for gods know what as if you both weren't complicit in your actions and happily so.

“No, I never should’ve crossed the line, fucked with what we have, I'm sorry i ignored you. That was shitty, but I just felt so fucking awful I couldn't shake it. Im sorry”

Your stunned silent, hoping your emotions aren't displayed as clear as you feel them on your face. so the way he was articulating now was that he didnt like you like the way you wish he would?

“Oh” it's a small response in comparison to the quite large statement he just made. You reflect on his words “fucked with what we have”, of course he just wanted to be friends.

You snap out of it, conjuring up a much more deserving response for him.

“Of course. No its okay Lan, thanks for saying something. I always like to know your heart is still beating though”

He lets slip a grin.

“You wish it wasn't sometimes”

“Maybe”

“Yeah piss off”

Just like that it was back to normal, you spent the rest of the day hanging out with Max and Lando watching shit movies and listening to Lando’s many racing stories. The London Grand Prix was this week and talk about it was already riling you up, knowing you were getting a paddock pass with Lando practically made you giddy. You'd always been into the sport having had done karting briefly in your youth but then your parents moved to London and you never really got quite back into it. Thus, there was only so many quips you could make on top of Lando’s stories. The day grew old and soon you were all gathered in your kitchen screaming at each other as Max fought with you over the wooden spoon.

“This is why I cook and you set the table” you said, tugging the spoon towards you.

“I don't wanna set the table”

You laughed at this, Lando too. His tone of voice was childish, mocking almost. You yield and let him stir the sauce as you set the table.

You ate mostly in comfortable silence or small talk, everyone was obviously hungry. After dinner you agree on accompanying Lando to the track the next day. Something that you were undeniably and overwhelmingly excited for, having not gone to a race for a few months and being interested in the sport.

He streamed that night and you would've been annoyed going to bed listening to him chatter on and on had it not been him. But it was him and you loved that he made noise, the reassurance that he was here and not miles away.

The birds seemed to puncture the bubble that encased you in sleep as you groggily rose and opened the blinds, revealing the already blinding summer sun.

Treading from your room to the kitchen to boil the kettle was a silent and pivotal start to your morning, though your morning routine was upheaved by the sight of Lando standing bare, all except his boxer shorts in the kitchen. Leant against the counter tops you could see his bronze chest and the taut muscle that you once so diligently set your fingers upon. The silence of you standing and taking in the sight was interrupted by the sound of the kettle whistle, his body jolted to life, halting the sculpted like state he seemed to be in with your observation.

He ran a hand through his hair, now noticeably ruffled as he reached for a mug from the cupboard. Jutting out another expanse of muscle that you were unprepared for. You realised that you were ogling him quite openly and set forward your feet, your steps were slightly muted by your slippers and you were grateful for the noise to be muffled as you slid in next to him, retrieving your own mug and tea bag from the cupboard. He seemed unphased by your presence, simply nodding at you before looking back at his phone. You were closer to him now and you can see just about every inch of vein and taut skin while you pour the water over the tea-bag, god he's fucking distracting. Lando is jutting his hips out, legs away from the bench as he leans against it. sipping your tea is less relaxing than one might think as you find your eyes darting to any bare skin of Lando's that floods your peripheral vision.

you stood in the kitchen together in comfortable silence for roughly however long it took you to check the notifications that you had received the night before, just as you were conveniently interrupted, lifting your head to listen.

"you excited about today?" he says, smug about his physical state as you nearly struggle for words.

you swallow and form words as fast as you can, lest to make a fool of yourself this early in the morning.

"you're the one racing, are you excited?" its probably a more relevant question, considering.

He scoffs at your question before answering. “well your home grand prix is always mega” He pauses and glances up at you likes hes thinking if what he is about to say is right or not. (he continues) “and you know having you guys at the race is always funner”

you would've been delighted at that fact he had just stated, but he had snuck in you....guys. not just you, not you independently, but you AND max. god you needed to get it out of your head that Lando had any semblance of a romantic feeling for you since Ibiza because clearly the man was as platonic as you could be. you tried as best you could to hide any kind of disappointment which tried to fight its way onto your face.

"More fun?" mocking his english.

It's nowhere near what you yearned to say, but it would do momentarily and he smiled at that, moving closing to you. his warmth radiating, almost uncomfortably in the motionless air that surrounded the kitchen.

"Did I tell you that Oscar nearly beat me at karting the other day?"

You grin at this, it's the lightness to the conversation that you had been anticipating, wanting nothing more than to get rid of this bright, blaring tension.

“Please do go on.”

You sip your tea as you listen to him recount his story of Oscar beating him in his very own karts, you make effort not to spit out the hot water when Lando says something particular funny and slap him on the shoulder. While he continues on, another random tangent coming to mind you get some things out to make breakfast, might as well get on with the day. Considering you all have to leave here in around 3 hours.

Lando leaves midway to “put some clothes on” and you fight your muscles urging yourself to turn around and glance one final time at his bronzed skin. He returns clothed and with Max and you present them with your accumulated breakfast, you eat in rather rowdy conversation, Lando opening a whole can of worms he was not prepared for. then you each go get ready respectively to go to track.

You arrive at track around 11am and Lando punctually leaves your side, excusing himself to go to the media pen. you seperate yourself from Max and Pietra. Not wanting to third wheel, though also not minding the time alone to simply walk around, you even knew some of the drivers now so it wasn't like you'd have nobody, hopefully? the atmosphere was always alight in the paddock, though you’d developed a habit of pretending to be more important than you were, thus to avoid being approached by much older, much richer men who said they could “look after you”. you run into daniel and you couldn’t be happier, greeting him with a hug. he had been happier since he had re-joined redbull and you’d been overjoyed for him, you’d noticed when he was at mclaren the sheer mental effort it took him not to breakdown sometimes and you’d try as hard as you could being who you were (landos friend) to try and console him. you’d formed a kind of friendship that depended on if lando was with luisa and you’d kind of just hang around with him. he was what everyone said he was; relentlessly kind, endlessy funny and much too charming.

you weren’t ashamed to admit you’d gotten with him a few too many times when he was broken up with his girlfriend, though when you told Lando he was less than impressed, feigning the wounded best friend card for the best of a month, before finally getting over it. but it had never gone further than sex, there was something between you two, something unnameable but tangible that said it when you didn't need to. you were close friends besides that and he was always fun to talk to, you'd missed him around.

"whatcha doing here?"

"just supporting the muppet" (lando) whom he knew and nodded fervently at the reference.

"ohhhhhh"

"haven't seen you in a while, how are ya?"

"pretty good, lando and me just had a falling out but everything's fine now I think"

"shit. what about?"

you pause.

"you don't have to tell me, sorry"

"no no its all good, just-hold on"

you lead him into a semi private corner of the red bull area.

"we kinda had sex"

his face dropped, eyes wide, mouth slack, like a fucking cartoon.

"FINALLY" he says, much too loud and you go to cover his mouth with your hand.

"SHUSH"

"ok sorry" he whispers

"but go on, tell me all the juicy details"

"youre disgusting" you scoff.

he waits for you to continue... and you do.

"okay fine, do you remember Ibiza?"

"yes..." he's smirking now, swaying side to side.

"well we fucked in the bathroom and then he ignored me for four weeks and then he kinda apologised and said that he"

you put your fingers up, making air quotes with your fingers.

"never should've fucked with what we have"

you let that sink in for a second, Daniel clearing processing your words, fair enough.

"fuck that" he says finally, exhaling deeply.

you let out a small laugh and lean against the wall opposite to him.

"literally look" you bring your phone from your pocket, scrolling through and revealing the countless messages that were left unanswered.

"then he just shows up and pretends nothing happens. and okay, im glad he said something, after all that, but it wouldn't have killed him to fucking respond"

"lando is stupid sometimes, as someone on the receiving end. he either gets over it or.... he just fucking comes to his senses" he makes a kind of flowing hand gesture and then continues.

"so he'll either confess his love for you in prince-like fashion or ignore you for the rest of your life"

"great."

"I'm filled with wisdom I know"

"okay but seriously I think I have to go, but just wait for lando to crack or something.

he pauses and tilts his head slightly quirking a brow.

or.. better- juust make him crack."

he's out of the red bull garage, in the middle of the paddock when you grab his arm, he turns to face you.

"okay don't be all cryptic wise one,"make him crack", come on?"

"make him crack"

"what?" exasperation is the best word to use to describe your emotions right now.

"make.him.crack"

god hes so dramatic, his face inching closer.

you roll your eyes.

"how?"

just then, you feel the air move around you as a body walks past. you look up and see the fading papaya of Lando. Though he doesn't aknowledge you, your head is now fully turned staring at the back of Lando. Danny turns to join you and slaps you on the back, you jolt forward.

"think you just did" he walks off, though not before turning once more back to you.

"GOOD LUCK!"

oh christ, you angle your head down, walking wordlessly in the direction to McLaren hospitality to hopefully either see Lando and unpack whatever it was you thought you saw plastered on his face or perhaps see Max and have a pleasant conversation that didn't involve Lando Norris.

you make your way to McLaren hospitality, only stopping to talk to Lily who was just fresh out of a golf tournament, you always looked on in awe as she spoke about it. you quickly found Max and Pietra, mingling and sipping on champagne that you did not want to see the price of. looking over the track you ask the only question you can think of.

"have you seen lando?"

"nah, he came in and then kinda disappeared" max replies.

"maybe his driver's room?" pietra offers.

better than nothing.

would you even be allowed back there?

you somehow weasel your way into the McLaren garage, being asked on numerous occasions what you were doing and who you were simply to respond with; oh, uh, um, I'm Landos friend. you were hopeless but somehow they believed you and you were given one last interrogation by his physio before he recognised you and let you past, finally reaching his door. if he wasn't here, you might just take a nap in his room anyway, deserving resulting of the effort it took to get yourself here. you raise your hand to knock and almost stop yourself but let your fist hit the door. he's flushed when he answers the doors, you can see a slight sheen to his face as you walk in, he stands to the side wordlessly as you pass him.

“pietra and max are so happy it makes me wanna throw up”

trying to hopefully prove daniel wrong and also cut the undeniable tension that seemed to encase both of you. lando let’s out a small laugh at your comment. going to sit down, you follow him across the room.

“I forgot how hot it is” he throws his hands up frantically and flops on the couch.

you open your mouth to respond but nothing seems to flow out. you follow him simply across the room, sitting across from him and meeting the top of his head as he looks down at his feet.

"you okay?" his head jolts up and he shakes it like he wasn't fully listening.

"oh huh... yeah sorry, no im good. you?"

"really you just seem distracted, sorry im not trying to pry I just-" he cuts you off

"maybe you're just distracting me" he's smirking while he says it and you can tell hes joking even if you wish he wasn't.

"oh haha" you say, deadpan, aware of the fact that he could be entirely mocking you.

he laughs again, genuinely this time and you smile at the sound.

"what do you even do in here"

"nothing"

"really?"

"its my favourite thing to do"

"I thought it was sleeping"

"you're so funny"

"I know, I don't get it from you though"

"oh really? who'd you get it from?"

"your old teammate" you joke, though he seems to not be in the mood.

he scoffs but doesnt laugh and his face returns to a formal neutrality.

"oh come on" you say jokingly

"what?" he says fast

you look at him quizzically and he continues, seeming to gather a question from your expression.

"just stop being obsessed with Daniel its gross"

its your turn to get fed up, the audacious nature of his comment making you sick.

"what?"

"he has a girlfriend you can't be fucking flirting with him"

there was a burning anger coming up your throat.

"I wasn't flirting lando, why do you always want to fight"

"I've seen you flirt and you were fucking begging him"

"you're such a fucking hypocrite lando"

"wanna be more specific?"

"ibiza?"

"what about it" his jaw is clenched now and hes stood up, as are you.

"the fact that you were the dragging me into the bathroom and then the one ignoring me for four fucking weeks maybe?"

"you enjoyed it just as much as I did. don't do that"

"yeah I did fucking enjoy it. I enjoyed it enough to not fucking ignore you"

"I didn't fucking ignore you, I just had to sort some things out"

"like what? how many girls you'd bring home with max after the race that I wasn't invited to maybe?"

it was cruel, but he deserved it. it had been brewing for so long, the anxiety you held towards him based solely on the fact that he could've been with somebody after you simply to rid him of you. while you couldn't fathom getting with anybody else, lest the memory of his skin on yours fade anymore.

"oh fuck off don't pretend that you didn't literally fuck daniel for months when he was my teammate"

"AND.. SO WHAT? I told you that, don't rub that in my face."

"SO WHAT? you were fucking my teammate and I pretended that I didn't care"

"you told me you didn't care. you had luisa and I was sick of standing there like I didn't care "

"so you fucked Daniel cause I was with luisa?"

"you're so infuriating"

"why did you fuck him?"

"BECAUSE LANDO"

"BECAUSE WHAT?"

you were standing uncomfortably close now, your fists balling up your skirt as he restlessly tapped his thigh, rhythmically and fast. there was no coherent response you'd figured would be appropriate to reply with, so you didn't.

lando moves closer to you, looking down at you slightly.

"Why Daniel?" his eyes are firm and he places his left hand loosely on your waist.

you finally look up from the ground and notice his pinky just grazing the patch of skin you have uncovered between the shirt and your skirt.

"why?"

its still anger that fuels you when you respond.

"because" your teeth clenching doesn't let you answer, you swallow, take a deep breath and begin again trying to settle slightly.

"because at least to Danny I was his first choice, not his third."

"did Danny say that?"

"say what?"

"that you were his first choice"

"I fucking hate you sometimes"

"you were my fucking first choice, until you went and had sex with my teammate"

"so you can fuck whoever you want and I can fuck.... nobody?"

he scoffs again, hand tightening slightly on your waist.

"fuck anyone but him."

"anyone?"

"anyone"

"so I can fuck Oscar then"

his face resets, eyes hardening again.

"or George maybe, or Carlos."

"don't"

"yeah. don't what lando?"

"don't mock me"

"this is fucking useless"

you go to walk away, though both his hands were suddenly on your waist. his heads tilts as you resettle into the stance you only briefly left.

"you're so fucking infuriating" you say, the most honest thing you'd said since stepping foot in his room

there were no words for what seemed to follow. your eyes met his and there was something that resembled anguish in his and you couldn't see yours but you wanted his hands to stay on you forever. your mind flicked back to ibiza and there was a increasing space in your mind where you wished that lando would close the space between you and just fucking kiss you.

there was a knock at the door and lando broke immediate eye contact. walking away from you, your head drifts downwards as anger fills you. anger directed towards yourself for wishing he'd touch you and anger directed at him for behaving like he did. he left swiftly as the person at the door mentioned media and you left the paddock soon after, returning to the quiet house as max and pieta were planning to go out afterwards.

you arrive home in the same flurry of frustration that you left the paddock in, going straight to your room and trying to you guess "sleep it off". after lying horizontal for what felt like hours, you realised it wasn't going to cut it. the frustration which you wished had channeled into sleep and not the constant resurfacing of lando's voice, his hair, his hands, his cock that night in Ibiza. you venture into the kitchen and shamelessly take three shots before walking back and lying down, hoping the alcohol would go straight to your head sending you to sleep. you wished that you had fallen asleep instead of trailing your hand down into your already embarrassingly soaking, aching cunt. though, by your 2nd orgasm the frustration was long gone and all that remained was the five senses and the bed beneath you, blurred by the alcohol and the ecstasy of your second orgasm . just as your breath got shallower and you reached for your second hand to bite down on, your phone, which had sat idly by for most of this endeavour decides to start ringing annoyingly loud. never one for your ringer on its confusing why of all moments its this. begrudgingly, you turn over, expecting your boss or even your mother, definitely not lando.

"what?" you're blunt and you're trying hard to conceal your shallow breaths lest you have to concoct an excuse..

"are you home?" hes equally as unemotional but sounds slightly more desperate.

"yeah" you say, keeping it short as you're still exhausted and slightly glazed with a sheen of sweat.

"why are you so puffed?"

the dreaded question.

"went for a run" the heavily debated answer.

"come open the door"

fuck.

you jolted upright out of bed, throwing on a pair of clothes that could be deemed activewear and running past the bathroom to fix your hair and cover yourself in a scent that wasn't sweat mixed with sex. you swing open the door and try to appear once again, out of breath though from something completely fake. you'd even thrown on a pair of running shoes to really sell it, in the off chance that he'd sniff out the lie that you feared and then convince himself he won. his face is blank as you open the door to reveal him still clad in his McLaren kit from today. he looks at you suspiciously up and down before entering wordlessly.

“did i have that much of an effect on you, that you had to get yourself off?”

"I went for a run"

"sure you did"

your eyes widen as he makes the connection, unsure of how he seemed to know, though nonetheless being fueled with anger of his sheer audacity and vulgarity at just about everything. knowing exactly what would tick him off in this moment you did just that.

“maybe it was danny”

“liar” he mutters under his breath

you walk back to your bedroom where you promptly close the door, he follows you most of the way thoigh doesn’t knock on your door, simply passes by. you get out of your clothes and throw on a big t shirt before throwing something on the tv and trying not to get yourself off for the third time today, hating your body because no matter the anger there was still a tangible heat in your core that nagged at you to be fixed.

you must of dozed off because when you woke up your stomach was rumbling and you couldn't for the life of you remember any of the past plot that had led up to the current point that was being shown and your stomach was now aching to be fed. you check the clock which reads 9:46pm and you smile to yourself for being so responsible as you tread out to the kitchen to eat frankly whatever is available. lando appears to be still in his room which lets you breath a little easier as you make some toast for yourself. you hear landos door creak and crane your neck around to see if he exits or not, you spy the quick movement that he makes from his room to the bathroom as he shuts the bathroom door. shortly after, to avoid any awkwardness you dash back to your room after quickly consuming your feast of toast.

your door is slightly ajar as you spot lando making a beeline towards it. you sigh as you only imagine what he is about to say as he opens the door.

"tell me that you weren't flirting with him today"

"lando" you say, partly in questioning, partly in confusion.

"you know" he says, desperately this time, creeping slower towards you.

"I was talking to him about you" you say, quite frankly relishing in the feeling it gives to him any kind of humiliation.

he's stunned silent, though his face paints a faint distrust.

"don't make me cocky" the switch he makes from neutral to smug nearly gives you whiplash.

"talking to him about how to make you "crack" or something"

something twitches within him, like you've caught him during something.

"and how exactly did you plan on doing that?"

you ponder the question but realise lying would do more than truth.

"I think I already have"

he scoffs at that but his eyebrows and jaw is slack and you gain confidence at the sight. moving towards him his eyes follow your every move, scanning over your bare legs and the bare skin where the shit has slid down your shoulder revealing your collar bone. your hands land just above his waistband and he leans towards your touch as your hands circle just above it. drifting ever so slightly up to feel the taut muscle below his shirt. his jaw is clenched as he gains control once more and suddenly grips both of your wrists in his hands. really looking at you now, taking the sight of you in.

"don't"

"why?"

"you're my best friend"

"we passed "friends" in ibiza"

he takes a step backwards towards the wall, throwing his hands out in exasperation.

"fuck you make me so fucking angry, "

he takes a breath and continues, looking at you now.

"I shouldn't look at Daniel like I wanted to kill him just because he talked to you."

his body twitches once again towards you as he opens his eyes to meet yours.

"do you want me to say how good he was?" you say, blaming the alcohol from earlier for your vulgarity.

his eyes flash black and you smile, finally yielding the reaction that lando seemed to get from you.

"bet he wasn't as good as me"

"hmm.... wanna refresh my memory?" its bold but you don't care.

just like that lando steps out of the doorway and closes it behind him, coming straight towards you.

"do you want me too?"

"hm maybe he was better?" you're still teasing because frankly, he still deserves it and you hate to say again but you relish in the feeling you take from it.

"don't act all cute" lando says, voice straining.

with that comment you make a small stride towards him, once again closing the gap between the two of you, though instead of aiming for his waistband you go for the neck.

“don’t pretend that you don’t like it” you say, your breath fanning his neck as he either tries to centre himself or allow you to do whatever it is you’re doing to him. your nose grazing the skin of his neck and he visible shivers, goosebumps littering the skin that you just grazed. it was no secret Lando’s neck was fucking sensitive and you’d always saved the information for a rainy day, today was fucking pouring. you skimmed the right side of Lando’s neck with your tongue, barely touching, only the slightest bit, then focused in on smaller spots kissing around to the left side and then coming up and moving over, he made little sound, though he made clear note that he was holding it in, his hands so harshly by his side, shoved into his pockets to keep himself from touching you, he needed to be the one to break, you wouldn't, accept anything else. so when you finally reached a spot just underneath his jaw, left of his now bobbing throat, he let out a strangled groan/whimper/laugh and you knew that was the first domino to fall. that, noise which brought his hand out of his pockets and onto your hips. the noise which encouraged you to knot of your hands into his hair just how you know he liked it.

"don't make me beg" he says, finally breaking the impenetrable silence by a whisper, a low mumbled sequence of words that makes your core tighten shamelessly.

you break apart finally and look at him; wanton and desperate, neck red and hair messy. his shirt once droopy and casual, now clung to the parts of him that you wished you could see. his shoulders, his chest, his arms. you admired him for a lost amount of time before ever debating the substance of a response, figuring your blatant admiration was enough to tell him that you seriously didn't plan to. your hands leave any skin of his and go behind your back, grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull over your head. your room is cold, at least you think it must be, because your nipples are already hard under your shirt as you stand in nothing but your panties directly in front of your best friend. his hands are already out of his pockets, hovering just beside your skin, you mimic the words he’s just said to you.

“don’t make me beg” you say, hoping the crack in your voice is unnoticeable as you portray your last wish for him to put his hands on any part of you.

his eyes are empty now, only looking at you, really looking as he finally drags his hands up and down the side of your stomach. looking at the way your eyes flutter closed any time his fingers brush over your bare breasts. before you can mumble any more arguments his body is on yours, in a flash. he couldn't have touched you fast enough, hard enough, long enough. his lips fought furiously with yours as he displayed your now bare back against the blank wall he once stood on, hands now deliciously free from his pockets and thick fingers all over every part of you. you're tugging at the hem of his shirt while he kisses your neck, wanting nothing more than the feeling of his skin against yours. he breaks apart from you in a flurry and he pulls his shirt over his head. you step back against the wall to distant yourself from him in order to see the whole expanse of his chest as he drops the cloth on the floor with yours. there is nothing but air exchanged between you two for the better of 30 seconds as you stare eachother down. lando eyes raking every inch of bare skin while you hone in on the expanse of his shoulders, noticing a faint but noticeable bite mark that you may or may not have caused.

"eyes are up here?" he says, much too cocky for something who was writhing while you pulled his hair moments ago.

“shut up” you say, making your way towards him once more, basking in the warmth that connects your two bodies. it’s a collision that could be considered bruising as your lips meet, clashing once more, albeit more desperately as you cling to any part of landos skin that is exposed. focusing on the way his back moves with you and the taut muscles that moves in and out. it’s hot between you two, lando is constantly moving his hands that seem to explore just about every edge of your body; your jaw, your neck, that spot just above your hip. he hasn’t even done anything but you’re virtually begging when he finally moves his hands down toward your soaking core. pulling your panties down was swift and lando almost immediately was back on you, covering you, shielding you. he looked at you as he spat in his hand, you’d probably find it disgusting if you weren’t so turned on. your eyes twitched and he lowered his hands, sliding the wetness through your folds, your eyes fluttered shut and your body jolted forward in the pleasure. fuck he felt so good, you throw your head back, against the wall needing some kind of grounding feature. his hands finally pushing inside of you, making you make some kind of strangled sound that lando laughs at quietly as he pushes his thick finger in and out of you slowly.

"so fucking wet huh?" he says beside your ear, taunting lips grazing your earlobe.

you shiver at the comment, disgraced how much he has effected you in such little time. he seems to read your mind though and adds another finger, causing another whole wave of pleasure to come over you and a stretch of fucks and shits and countless deep breaths, you move your hand over his, encouraging him to speed up. which he soon does, painfully so, curling his fingers in and out of you, knowing how close you're getting, paying attention to the way your face flutters and your legs shake. you drag your other hand to your clit while his pace remains bruising. you whimper at the contact, your clit suddenly swollen and sensitive with the contact. your keeling over nearly, lando keeping you entirely upright as you get yourself impossible closer. its all to soon when his movements still and he grabs your hand, prompting you to look at him, desperate and confused and endlessly frustrated.

"tell me what you were thinking 'bout when this afternoon." not a question, a statement. he wouldn't continue if you didn't answer him.

you're squirming now, against your will, shamelessly desperate but you weren't going to give him any satisfaction. you wouldn't let yourself. you try and steady yourself, coaxing all the faux confidence you could before teasing him just that little bit more. you lean forward, as he did before. grazing your nipples on his chest and your lips on his earlobe, you could see he was hard now and you planned to use it.

"thinking about the time Danny fucked me in this room" you weren't lying, Danny did use to come over when lando was away, but just to hang out. you'd divulge that part later.

you didn't miss the way lando eyebrows grew flat and his eyes darkened, hands suddenly gripping firmer on your skin as you looked up at him, coy as can be. you lean forward again, he almost stops you but you get far enough to tell him.

"was thinkin' about how big you are" that caused a reaction. praise. his eyes suddenly springing open.

"knew it" he retaliates almost laughing as he closes the gap once again, though this time moving onto the bed. as he pushes you on the bed he removes his boxers, the final fucking barrier between the both of you and you couldn't be more giddy as he goes to get on top of you and you push him so he's rolled over.

he's fucked you once. your turn.

you use his chest to steady yourself as you put both legs beside him, relishing in the way he looks at you. like there's nobody else, nothing else, just you and him. hes so warm, sweat sheening the skin on his chest and thighs, his hair is damp and he raises his head, one hand behind it to admire you. you graze one finger over his tip and his abdomen tenses and lets go, so fucking sensitive. he's biting his lip as you tease him a fair bit more, just enough, circling the tip, see it throbbing.

"wanna -hmph... tell me how big it is" its strangled and mocking and high-pitched and so fucking hot coming out of his mouth you can't do anything but oblige, so as you finally sink down onto his red, throbbing cock.

"so fucking big lan' " he lets out something actually audible at that comment but you're not entirely sure you hear it because it feels so fucking good, the stretch from this angle. you feel lando's hands come to your hips aiding you as he slowly bottoms out. he leans up to meet you when he bottoms out, you're in a trance, so overwhelmed with pleasure that you're sure lando is a god or something the way he moves your hips just fucking right that has you repeating his name like a mantra as he moves the both of you in perfect fucking unison.

"so fuckin' pretty"

"so fuckin' perfect"

"make me so fuckin' angry"

you smile at his comments, biting your lip, he knows his effect on you but you could always try to dampen it just a little more, but the comments don't help the noises that escape your mouth.

" 'm close " you say, between incoherent noises, he smiles against your neck and goes faster, impossibly faster, forcing you impossibly closer together. you clumsily move one of your hands to your clit and its perfect. he knows just how close you are, putting both his hands around you as you suddenly become weak as it rushes over you, jolting forward, head landing on his shoulder before he sloppily thrusts a few more times and hes coming hard and fast inside you and you're fucking perfect. everything is perfect, your hand is in his hair, holding it firmly, keeping you down to earth as you meet his eyes.

"fuck you" its breathless and completely futile as you play with the curls at the back of his head, melting in any kind of touch you're willing to give him. he laughs at you and you fucking love his smile.

"you just did" he said, incredibly proud of himself, leaning in afterwards littering your neck with kisses.

1K notes · View notes

moonrisecoeur · 6 months

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Ur the best sub Leon writer soooo… idk if you seen these but ppl treat las plagas parasite as sex pollen 😭 and I’m so here for it. Concept : re4 leon infected by the parasite OK but he starts out very agressive but ofc he’s a sub so he does whatever reader wants in order to yk… achieve the goal of the parasite (breeding 😔 who said that? Not me) And pls make the reader mean, I love mean femdoms sm, they are chefs kiss. If you need more clarification post it I’ll send another one idk but I’m just seeing what YOU come up with. LOVE UR WRITING btw I love how it’s pretty in character tbh cuz I read ur bully Leon one and I was like “yeah fr like he’s too caring to be a bully 💀”

OMG WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD: you said smth so mean to him that he came too early. He was so sorry for coming early and the mess he made in you But then he continued to keep going trying to pump more- OK SORRY

the BEST?? idk about that but i shall take ur compliment and deliver to you only my best work so thank u bestie i appreciate it sm !! ^-^

las plagas is crazy cuz like the black veins, the loss of control with your physical body, the pain it causes… that’s literally so hot. leon was so fuckable all of re4 but especially in the scenes where his body is being controlled that man is SCRUMPTIOUS

also just so you know. the veins on his dick are black as well ♡

no pronouns mentioned, afab parts mentioned, plaga leon has to be a top im sorry (technically in straight relationships men are always topping unless u count pegging BUT in this context i mean he’s a top more like ‘he’s a sub but he’ll fuck u stupid’ like that’s the vibe)

you spot his blonde hair from across the hall, running over to him excitedly. thank god you found him.

“leon!” you call out, grabbing the attention of the man in question, as you catch up to him. finally finding him in this nightmarish place after getting separated was the best thing possible, “holy crap, i’m so- i’m so glad you’re okay— woah, what… what happened to you?”

he takes a cautious step back, still seemingly holding a little bit of control over his body, “they said it was a gift in my…. my blood… don’t know what the fuck that was about..”

you take a step forward, reaching out your hand to touch his face, fingers tracing the black lines that were once veins invisible to the naked eye. but he stops you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist, “don’t.”

“don’t… what?” you ask nervously, shoulders slumped.

“you need to… stay away from me,” he groans from pain, and you’re too worried to listen to his words, “stop, get away from me, you— i could hurt you! i don’t want to hurt you…”

but you don’t listen to him, betraying his wishes by shaking off his grip and reaching your hand out again. he can’t try to stop you this time. he moans, actually moans, when your fingertips touch his face, caressing him softly.

“really? it’s that good?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. leon thinks he could die.

“f-fuck…” he mumbles, finally coming closer to you. his hands wrap around your waist as he leans in for a kiss that you’re not ready for, and you both stumble backwards while you try to ground yourself.

he’s getting rough, aggressive, and you need to push back a little or else he’ll consume you entirely. not that you’d mind.

“leon, ease up,” you whisper, pushing him back slightly, and when a growl escapes his throat, you know he’s clearly not in any state to listen, “leon.”

he annoyedly makes eye contact with you, trying his best to listen to what you’re about to say. he is trying, and that’s the worst part. this is him at his most gentle, most restrained.

“you need to listen to me, okay? can you do that?” you ask softly, hand against his chest to keep him from diving too deep into you, and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s softer. he moans into your mouth needily, but you don’t let him get rough. instead you sweetly get the taste of him. sure, it’s not a delicious taste, but he’s a delicious experience.

you enjoy the way he’s trying so intensely to control and contain himself, for your sake. he knows what you want from him is not his full fledged desires out in the open, completely unchecked.

when you pull away, he looks wrecked already, “please, you can’t do this to me, not if you’re just going to walk away and leave me desperate.”

part of you wants to reassure him. i’m not going to leave you. i would never abandon you when you need me most. but the other part just wants to ravage him, take all of him for yourself, leave nothing of him left but the perfection you’ve created. perfection in your eyes. maybe he’s not the only one infected with some kind of tainted desire.

instead, to accomplish both, you kiss him again, letting your own intensity and desire take over, potentially overpowering his. he whimpers, his shaky hands holding your hips for stability. he’s not being grossly possessive and rough like before. he’s softer now, pliable.

when you pull away, you whisper, “we need to get somewhere safe.”

“wha… what?”

“i need to take my time with you, and we’re not safe out in the open like this…” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to that sweet spot right below his ear. it’s so cute how truly weak leon is right now. sure, that’s always been his weakness, but it’s elevated multiple times over by this parasite in his blood. you have half the mind to thank that weird cult.

when you find a safe room, you’re immediately back on him, pushing him against the wall, enjoying the way he whimpers as you kiss him, his need for you multiplying by the minute.

“please, please, i need you, i need you so fucking bad, please, i need to take you, need to make you mine, need to—”

“shut up,” you groan, fingers roughly grabbing his jaw, pushing his head back and away from you, “you’re going to be good, or you won’t get what you want. i don’t care how badly you fucking need me, you’re going to be patient. you’re going to be nice and obedient or you’ll get nothing from me. and that little parasite inside of you is horrified at the idea that you won’t get to fuck my pretty pussy, hm?”

he looks pathetic, moaning like a whore at just some words, but it’s the way you say them, the way you say them, that kills him. he eventually calms himself down enough to nod with his eyes shut tightly, “i’ll do whatever you say. you know that.”

“lay down on the floor,” you command, almost growling back at him, and he opens his eyes in surprise.

“what?”

“you heard me. on the ground, beneath me, right now, leon,” your eyes narrow at him, enjoying the way he weakly sinks to his knees before sitting down completely and laying back.

“like this..?” he asks, confused. he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and that excites him immensely.

you take off your belt with all your utility tools and your jeans along with it. then finally, your underwear. he looks up at you with wide, delicious eyes.

he asks so sweetly, even though he knows the answer, “are you… are you gonna make me..?”

“yeah, you are. i’m going to sit down on your pretty, pretty face and you’re going to enjoy every second of being beneath me, where you belong, servicing me, and making me cum.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of belonging beneath you, “yeah, fuck, okay—”

“—and you’re not going to fucking talk until i cum, got it?”

he nods, and once you sit down upon your throne, he gets right to work. he laps up the fluids of your cunt like a dog, working tirelessly, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. this is his place. he deserves nothing more than to be here with you, caving to your every desire even if all of his thoughts include breeding you and getting you pregnant with his babies. he’d do anything you asked if he could just have that.

he’d be at your service, at your mercy, until you chose to give him what he wanted.

but he makes you cum so fucking hard that it’s impossible to not give him what he wants, especially when rough hands grab onto your thighs as you’re cumming and he’s still giving you the head of your life through your orgasm. he grabs you just to stabilize you, but also to be possessive.

he can’t help how bad he’s gotten about jealousy and possessiveness with this parasite. he’s never been the jealous boyfriend, knowing you could hold your own and you’re loyal and stuff, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. it’s deep and primal. he looks at you like he needs to have you, and no one else can.

it’s insanely hot, but it’s also inconceivable how uncontrollable those urges are. leon has good self control, and you notice it in how he’s acting. again, this is him at his most restrained. he’s trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, taking everything he wants from you because he knows you don’t want that.

somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still himself, still that awkward and dorky guy that just wants to love you and give you everything you want. you wouldn’t want that.

when you roll off of him, laying down next to him to give yourself a moment to recover, you press a kiss to his shoulder, a sign that it’s an act, your harshness isn’t real. he returns the gesture by kissing the top of your head. a sign that he acknowledges your motives.

“please,” he whimpers suddenly, startling you out of your daze as his hand caresses your back softly, “i’ll let you control everything, you can do whatever you want with me, but fucking please, i’m so desperate to put my cock inside of your pussy, baby. i can’t think straight, and i’m trying so damn hard to control myself but i won’t be able to much longer…”

“yeah? you wanna put your cock inside of me? feel it throb inside the wetness and warmth of my cunt, fill me up with—”

he cuts you off with a loud moan, his hands grasping onto you and his eyes shutting tightly at the thought of such pleasure. he looks wrecked at the mere mention of cumming inside of you. you obviously have to capitalize on this fact.

“oh? so it’s the filling me up part, isn’t it? the ‘gift’ you have makes you really want to cum inside me, hm?” you say, smirking cruelly at him, watching his resolve crumble as he moans shamelessly, “do you want… breed me, leon?”

he gasps, breathing heavily. he’s incredibly wound up, and now you know the real reason he’s insatiable and uncontrollable, “f-fuck, i— it’s not that i want to, it’s that i need to… i need to fuck you and breed you so damn bad, i—”

you cover his mouth with the palm of your hand, enjoying the way he groan in pleasure when you straddle him. god, he’s not even inside of you, but he looks fucked out. he looks he’s about to burst already.

“god, you’re so fucking desperate,” you mumble to him, leaning in closer to whisper to him despite having him muzzled with your hand. not that he’d ever hurt you, he would never even imagine it, “you’re going to fuck me stupid, okay? you’re going to fuck me until my legs go numb and i can’t feel anything but you… and only when i tell you you can, you’ll breed me, fuck your cum even deeper into me and not let any of it escape. understood?”

he breathes shakily, not responding. obviously you forgot you have your hand over his mouth. when you take it off, he nervously says, “got it. i’ll… i’ll be good. i’ll make you feel so good.”

your voice is dark, cruel, full of malicious intent, “you fucking better, or i won’t let you cum. you’ll get to fuck me, sure, but i won’t ever give you the satisfying orgasm your body is desperately aching for. you won’t get to fill me up, and all you’ll have left to fuck for your little orgasm is your hand.”

his heart aches. the idea of disappointing you makes him feel a physical pit of nervousness in his stomach, the same ones he felt when he was more like himself. he just wants to feel like himself again.

“g-got it,” he whimpers. you get off of him, and he’s got you pinned immediately, gently resting you against the ground he was previously laying on. the image of you beneath him has him breathless. he feels like he’s worshipping a god with every move he makes.

he slides his cock into you, groaning at how easy it is, how wet you are. he bottoms out almost immediately, enjoying the way your body wraps around him in almost every sense. he silently adores you. he loves that you want him, crave him just like he craves you. that underneath all of your dominance, you’re his lover too.

fuck, he’s starting to feel possessive again. he beings to thrust into you, his body moving faster than either of you can handle, but you keep your cool better than he does.

“don’t let yourself start to think you’re in control,” you murmur, leaning up to press your lips to his shoulder, baring your teeth but not hard enough to draw blood. just enough to remind him of his place, “you belong to me. not the other way around, got it?” you growl into his ear.

he can’t even respond, too enraptured by your body and the feeling of your control over him leaving him a shuddering mess.

and you can’t even deny it. he’s putting in the work, thumb playing your with your clit just like how he knows you like, and clearly he’s getting the results he’s looking for. his body comes closer to the edge sooner than he’d like, but he tries to stave it off, for your sake.

still leaning into him, you whisper in your darkest voice, “maybe i should leave you like this, so you can stay this desperate… for me. i would try and cure you, but… not sure if i really care anymore.”

he shudders, voice giving out on him as he tries to plead with you. he cums without warning, obviously his body did it without the consent and go-ahead of his conscious mind. he already looks embarrassed at cumming without your permission. you don’t really have the mind to care right now, but you remember it for.. later.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, leon, give it to me, give in to your cravings, your desires, your needs,” you moan in his ear, desperate for him, only him, and he’s yours, he’s all yours, it’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. he keep fucking you even after cumming, keeping you filled up, pushing it deeper, “make me yours.”

and he has no choice but to comply.

#sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #sub leon kennedy smut #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #sub!leon #re4 leon #re4r #re4 #re4 remake #re4r leon

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wintersera · 4 months

Text

special gift || g!p karina x f!reader

notes: merry christmas!! hope y’all enjoy this smutfic… also “short fic” my ass i got carried away again 😭

cw: g!p karina, top!karina, bottom!reader, somnophilia, established relationship

wc: 1.7k

having a girlfriend who was one of the top idols in the industry was seriously a pain in the ass. sure you were lucky with dating THE karina from hit south korean girl group aespa, but fuck, you hated whenever jimin was basically never at home. during comebacks she was always booked and busy, and unfortunately this year, her schedules were packed tightly; solo gigs, advertisements, photoshoots on top of show after show, variety show shoots, etc.

you had cursed lee-fuckass-sooman for being such a shitty ceo and never letting his idols take a short break, even for christmas. all that cursing and manifesting towards that man in hopes that he would do something pulled through, because guess what, you woke up to the sound of your phone going off, a text message from your beloved girlfriend.

you honestly were tired as fuck, you knocked out as soon as she said ‘wait for me’, but with all the anticipation and adrenaline of seeing your girlfriend for the first time, in what? a few months, you were too excited to sleep any longer than an hour.

up at the ass crack of dawn cleaning your entire apartment, every single room had to be spotless, cleaned to perfection, shiny to the point of where you can see your face. not only that, but with christmas being literally today, you had to put up last minute decorations since you were too lazy to set up everything during your finals week, although you were busy as hell, so you couldn’t really decorate regardless, anything for your girlfriend i guess.

cleaning the entire apartment took hours, you were at it for so long that you didn’t even realise it was noon, and then decorating took way too long that in a flash it was already the evening and the sun was setting. oh shit, you realised jimin would be coming home soon, and you had no present to give her.

unless….

anyways, as a little treat, since jimin hadn’t seen you in so damn long, you thought it would be nice to dress up for her. even though you will be staying inside with her all day, dressing as santa would be on theme. rummaging through your closet, you find an off shoulder santa dress you bought last year for a party, pairing that with a set of lingerie, yeah you could be jimin’s ‘present’.

it was getting late, really really late, and even though you knew jimin said she was gonna come home at god knows what time, you couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened. you checked your phone, 11:07pm, no messages, no calls from her. you wondered if she stayed behind, knowing her, she would’ve stayed helping someone out if they really needed her, she was kind like that.

you laid on the couch feeling sleepy, all the effort put into making your apartment look presentable and christmas-y took a large toll on your body. seconds go by and you feel your eyes shutting, and your body relaxing.

thirty minutes.

the jingling of jimin’s keys could be heard from a few metres away. she knocked excitedly at the door expecting you to open up and jump into her arms, but nothing. she thought it was a little strange, you’d always opened the door and greeted her with a grin whenever she was able to visit, however you didn’t answer, not even your phone.

jimin thanked you for giving her spare keys just in case a situation like this happened, or a situation where she wanted to surprise you after your uni classes. has it happened? a few of times, yes. she came to your apartment and diligently waited for you with a cake on the table. but besides that, jimin waltzed into the apartment sighing and unzipping her massive puffer jacket “baby i’m home” her voice trailing off as she notices you sleeping on the couch “aww, did you doze off waiting for me? you’re so cute y/n” she was kind enough to lift you up and carry you to the bed, but only a few seconds later she realises what you were wearing.

jimin gently places you on top of your blanket, her face tinted a slight shade of red, your skirt hiked up a little for her to see. she pressed a shaky hand on her lips, wondering if she should really do what she was thinking, knowing you, she thought it would be okay. you’ve established this before, if it comes to jimin coming back to yours and you’re fast asleep, you told her it would be one hundred percent okay for her to wake you up by fucking you.

she sighs heavily and coughs, her hand shakily steadying herself on the bed, hovering right above you. with ease, she took off your dress leaving you with your lingerie on “why’d you have to be asleep. i’m so hard right now you don’t understand” her pants becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every passing second. caressing your skin gently before she unhooked the bra hook at the front, she begins to tease around your already hard nipples, building up her own arousal. a soft mewl escapes your lips, jimin’s teasing gradually turning into heated touches. each touch amplified your moaning, which in favour made jimin reach her breaking point, sliding her cargos off easily, she frantically tugs at the waistband of her boxers before tending to your panties.

spreading your legs apart so she can slot herself in between your thighs, you gradually come into consciousness, blinking your eyes a few times before your vision clears up “mmm… jimin?” you whispered, voice a little husky.

“finally, you’re awake. can we, you know… have sex?” she asks seriously. you giggle at the older girl, you look at her dearly.

“of course we can” noted, she draws herself closer, so close that her lips tickle your own. your arms wrap around jimin’s neck pulling her down, kissing her sweetly and softly. as she gives into the slow kiss, jimin adjusts herself comfortably between your legs, her hard cock against your bare pussy “you’re already hard” you say as you break the kiss.

“you look too cute, i couldn't help it” giggling as she pecks your lips twice before she turns your face to the side slowly kissing your jaw all the way down to your neck “were you dressed as my christmas gift?” huffing each time she stops kissing your neck.

“y-yeah” voice wavering “sorry i wanted to greet you, but i got too sleepy” you whimper softly as she pushes the tip of her cock slowly inside of your pussy.

“that’s okay, i know you did this all for me” you hum happily as she kisses your cheek, “you’ve made christmas so special, and i didn’t get you anything either, so let me treat you tonight” jimin licks her lips in arousal, attentively watching you wince as she pushes the rest of her length inside. one thing jimin loved about being intimate with you is the way you were so reactive to her touches, she always loved how easy it was to make you call out her name while your hands gripped her arm. the way you got so lost in pleasure, the way you sweetly moaned with each thrust, how you had to have your hands somewhere on jimin’s body just to feel even closer, jimin loved it all.

jimin began rolling her hips, her cock being long enough to hit almost every spot that made you squirm beneath her “how are you feeling, does my cock make you feel good?” you couldn’t answer simply with words, rather you responded with rapid ‘hm’s’ and ‘mhm’s’ all while she drove herself deeper. she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours once again, this time sliding in her tongue. you moaned into her mouth, her passion and skill making you feel dizzy and weak from the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving. jimin grinned into the kiss, knowing that she was the only one who could make you feel this way made her heart flutter.

she kept pumping in and out, quickening up the pace in one second, and then stopping abruptly the other second, just to see you hit her shoulder lightly and tell her to speed up while you moved your hips around her shaft, then suddenly speeding up again, catching you off guard and making you yelp.

she continues to rock hard and fast, giving you no time to think for yourself. your stomach plummets feeling like you were about to explode “fu.. fuck. jimin, i- i feel like i’m gonna cum” any other words after sounded like a bunch of garbled nonsense, the words ‘close’ being repeated a few times. to bring you closer to the edge, jimin took her fingers, put them softly into your mouth for you to suck them obediently, took them out and rubbed your clit slow circles. you moaned loud in response, her fingers skilfully playing with your clit as her thrusts grew harsher and consistent.

“ah… me too, god i’m so close-“ jimin kept going, her harsh thrust weakened her arms, forcing her to press her body against yours. she couldn’t take it much longer, her cock twitching and her tip overly sensitive “gonna.. i’m gonna cum, fuck” her hips jolted, her face nuzzling in between your neck as she attempts to hide a long moan. not so long after, you followed in suit, feeling her warm semen filling the insides of your pussy made you lose it. you gripped jimin’s bicep as you threw your head onto the soft pillow, legs twitching in response to jimin’s fingers still rubbing your clit.

a few seconds of relishing in ecstasy go by, you and your lover breathing heavily, catching your breath while you caress jimin’s hair lovingly. you tapped her shoulder “you okay baby?” she got up from between your neck, her baby hairs sticking to her forehead,

“merry christmas babe” smiling sweetly as she kisses your forehead, “i’m okay, it felt too good i almost blacked out” she pulled out, watching you again as you frowned subtly. jimin held back a giggle, you were just too cute “come on babe, let's get up. i’ll run a bath for the both of us”

“you’re so sweet jimin, i love you so much”

“i love you too y/n, merry christmas you cutie”

#wintersera #aespa smut #aespa karina smut #g!p aespa #g!p karina #yu jimin smut #yu jimin x reader smut #karina x reader smut #karina x fem reader smut #kpop smut #girl group smut

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itsthatmff · 3 months

Note

Hello everything is fine? If requests are still open, can I request opm Garou, Saitama and Sonic with a partner capable of healing any serious injury and renewing their vital energy?

So interesting. It was my first time writing for sonic so don’t go too harsh on me 😞. And yes everything is fine! Just school stressing me out lmao. But I hope you enjoy!

Having an S/O who can heal wounds

Gn!reader

Included: Garou, Saitama, Sonic

Requests are open !!

Garou

It was in that shack where you and your friends often came to hang out because it was an unused and empty place in the middle of the forest that you found that white haired man resting after a long and tough fight.

It couldn’t even be considered resting the way he looked. Blood dripping down his body like water. Of course you immediately tended to him without thinking twice.

You were a B-class hero. Downplayed to the support role, a mere healer. People - especially the association did not see the potential in you. It always bothered you but in this situation you were lucky. God knows what Garou would have done if he had seen your name in the Heroes lexicon instead of just skipping the Pages with the B-class ranked heroes.

One instance lead to the other and it became the norm healing him up whenever he got injured. You developed a weak spot for him. The way he sat on the dust filled couch with his legs spread and his head leaned back. Always making snarky remarks. And always being shirtless.

“It’s great I have ya. Got my own private hopsital.”

“You good? Stop starin at my abs and heal them damnit..”

And of course he has a soft spot for you. May not show it but he cares for you in his own way.

It was when he began coming over for the most useless reasons that you realized he had a crush on you.

Like for instance before or in the middle of fights he’d come looking for you asking you to renew his energy. But after a while he came over every second day with the excuse that “What if I get into a fight?? I need all my power ya know.”

Once you start dating he eventually finds out about you being a hero. Doesn’t really care about it. He is just as upset with you that no one acknowledges your true powers and asks you if you want to join him on his hero hunting but you refuse.

That does not affect your relationship though.

Will lay on you as he lets you heal him. Is real snuggly. Will also groan extra loud to get you all flustered though.

Saitama

(Does this guy even get inured???)

After some research I’ve come to the conclusion that this guy has never gotten severely injured. He does feel pain but it barely hurts.

He does get some tiny scratches from time to time though.

Those if course you heal as his partner. He insists that he doesn’t need it but secretly loves the care you provide him.

When out on Monster battles you two are the best duo to see. While he takes care of the Monsters you take care of any citizens in the area.

He admires you so much and thinks you’re like the backbone of the heroes association because in the end you’re the one who contributes to the citizens and the heroes health.

If anyone dares to say otherwise they’ll have a problem with him.

Let’s you play support in video games because you’re “made for it”

What he does love getting from you are massages though. Your massages are magical because due to your healing and energy renewing powers they make one feel refreshed.

He’ll ask for one whenever he gets the chance.

“A massage’s always good. I can seriously start to feel the back and shoulder pain at my mid-20’s.”

Sonic

At first he’s very reluctant over getting treated by you.

The chairman he works for offered him a personal assistant/nurse. Which was you of course.

This guy knows no shame. Literally strips himself naked in front of you so you could inspect “all his wounds clearly.” It takes you some bickering around for him to put his clothes back on.

Also this guy CANNOT SIT STILL FOR A SINGLE MINUTE. always has to hop on from one place to another with his super speed. It’s just more ‘comfortable’. You literally have to cuff him down sometimes for him to sit still.

And will not stop talking during the treatments. Talking about being the fastest, avenging saitama and whatsoever.

It’s like a therapy and treatment session all at once.

Once you both start dating he gets so comfortable. Will enter the room and lay on you without saying a word expecting you to treat him.

Will justify the injuries he’s gotten like it’s his job.

“Ah that one..you see there was this frick of a cyborg who did not know when to quit. He chopped my hair off too..can you believe it?!”

“See but i’m still stronger than him though. Next time I’ll bring you his head as a souvenir.”

#one punch man #headcanons #garou #garou opm #garou x reader #opm headcanons #opm x reader #garou x y/n #garou the hero hunter #garou headcanons #one punch man x reader #one punch man garou #saitama x reader #saitama opm #saitama one punch man #saitama #speed o sound sonic #speed o sound sonic x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

Text

where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years.

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card.

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away.

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away.

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history.

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it.

“Hello, handsome.” You greet.

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.”

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.”

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.”

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday.

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.”

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?”

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.”

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.”

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!”

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out.

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts.

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck.

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to.

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too.

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen.

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.”

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all.

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.”

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room.

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap.

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.”

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper.

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out.

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.”

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift.

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table.

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head.

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off.

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.”

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.”

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.”

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back.

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.”

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!”

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.”

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful.

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.”

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands.

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.”

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.”

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed.

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him.

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now.

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.”

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.”

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him.

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight.

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is.

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you.

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less.

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory.

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs.

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in.

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips.

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him.

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up.

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own.

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.”

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning.

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole.

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw.

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?”

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now.

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.”

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.”

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received.

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him.

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him.

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.”

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy.

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed.

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care.

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light.

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.”

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fairydustblossom · 8 months

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Hello! Can I request something with pre relationship fluff with Azriel? Maybe something where everyone else can see the attraction between them but they’re clueless or in denial?

Thanks! ❤️

I’m writing this as a blurb because I just had so many random ideas LOL. I hope this is okay!

Okay Azriel would be smitten by you, and you by him, but like the entire IC could just see it because of the special treatment you got in every little thing and Azriel literally didn’t treat anyone else like this. Princess treatment fr without even officially being his princess.

He would be so caring and kind to you, a complete gentlebat, holding doors open, pulling your chair out for you, will offer to carry whatever you are carrying for you, etc…

He would basically be your personal escort while visiting other courts, going out, or just while strolling through Velaris. He would always be beside you but he would purposefully slow his stride to fall back a bit, making sure he could look at all of your surroundings, sending glares to anyone who seemed like a threat. Even if the threat is literally just the butcher at the local meat market holding a knife that was casually pointed at you in conversation. Azriel gave the man a death stare behind you and you were left wondering why the conversation ended so abruptly…

It got to the point where even Rhys felt abandoned by his Spymaster. Azriel had always prioritized guarding his High Lord, his brother, but now he was giving all of his attention to you. (He would act mildly offended but didn’t really care he just thought it was funny because Azriel used to always be so attentive. And also Rhys adores you so it’s fine.)

Now, everyone in the IC, in fact, everyone in Velaris, knows that Azriel does not like to be touched. Like it takes a lot for him to be comfortable with someone touching him and he’ll tolerate it but you won’t ever see him going out of his way to touch someone unless absolutely necessary. However, when it comes to you, he finds any excuse to touch you or have you touch him. It’s like he wants to recover all the physical touch he’s avoided his whole life through you. He would never openly admit this, no, not until later on but something in him begs to feel your skin.

For example, when he puts his leathers on he’ll make some random ass excuse to get you to put your hands on him. “I think I’ve got all my buckles in place, could you double check for me?”. When Cass heard him say this he was about to burst laughing, because for mothers sake, Azriel had been buckling and unbuckling his leathers for centuries and had never asked anyone to double check, it was literally muscle memory at this point. Of course, Az sent Cass a death glare that dared him to say something so Cass held in his laugh, raised his hands and walked away. But he definitely told Nesta, and then Nesta told Feyre, and of course, Feyre told Rhys. Rhys told Mor, and soon everyone was overly aware of the excuses you guys made just to touch each other. When Azriel asked you to double check his leathers, you thought it was a great idea and asked him to do the same for you.

Azriel took this job very seriously, his gloved hands would roam your body, checking each and every pocket, lace, buckle, button. He would make sure everything was perfectly in place. He never groped and never overstepped his boundaries, just very diligently ran his hands through every part of your body. It would be hard to keep your cheeks from blushing and your belly from fluttering, it was also hard to cover up how much it turned you on to have him look after you. And oh gods, when he got to the holsters around your thigh….. Let’s just say thank the mother that Azriel was so concentrated in his task that he didn;t realize how visibly flustered you were. But everyone else definitely noticed.

It basically became a routine for you both before any mission to touch every inch of each other's body. So much so that Azriel now just couldn’t let you go on mission without doing an “inspection”, as he liked to call it, and he wouldn't leave on any until you checked him. You just really really cared about each other's gear being properly set., definitely wasn’t just an excuse to feel each other up.

The whole IC truly found it hilarious and would talk about it behind y’alls back. It was just so obvious to everyone how infatuated you were with each other, so obvious to everyone except the two of you.

Azriel also kind of assigned himself your personal flyer. One time you asked Cass to fly you over to the house of wind and Azriel’s heart just about broke. You didn’t ask him because he was busy doing some work and Cass was just lounging around but he took it sooo personally. Of course he never told you that, instead he took it out on Cass by not speaking to him for a day LOL. From that day on he made sure to always ask you if you need a lift before waiting for you to ask.

He was also playful around you, one might even say goofy, a rare sight for anyone that had known Azriel. If you were ever spaced out he would nudge you a bit with his wing, making you stumble a bit. You would send him a glare and he would have a smirk on his face.

Or if you were super concentrated on a book or something and he wanted your attention he would flap his wings, sending a gust of wind to mess up the pages. You would huff in annoyance, shut the book, and look at him, only to find him reading his own book acting like he didn’t just do that.

But you would also get him back, with the help of his shadows of course. Like when you were feeling playful, you would maybe take one of daggers or something and then you would run off and hide, a few of his shadows helping you find the darkest hiding spot and never snitching on you. That was another thing no one else had seen, his shadows fully listening to anyone other than him ?? Like hello ??? How did Azriel not realize what that meant ?? But he was just so blissfully comfortable around you and everything seemed so normal, that he never really gave it a second thought. He always knew the only reason he was a Shadowsinger was because the shadows allowed it so he just kind of accepted it.

Most of all though, the IC was grateful for the friendship (soon to be more in their opinion) that you and Azriel had nurtured. They would abstain from teasing him because you were just so good for Azriel. It became a regular occurrence to find Azriel napping by you, or the both of you snoozing on the couch, your head or feet on his lap or maybe even his on yours, when Mor saw him sleeping on you that one time she audibly gasped. She was so giddy with excitement that she ran to tell the others. They all came one by one, so as to not spook the shadows, to take a peek and all their hearts melted a little more.

He felt so relaxed around you that he just dozed off quite easily now. And they all saw the gradual disappearance of the bags under his eyes. Everyone knew Azriel barely slept but now he seemed to fall asleep so easily whenever he was near you. He just felt safe. You had always been a napper and he had finally caught on to the art of napping.

Another thing everyone started noticing was that Azriel was cooking a whole lot more than usual. He was always a good cook, Rhys and Cass would recall every now and then how they probably would have lived off beans and oatmeal during their younger years if it hadn’t been for Azriel’s cooking. His mom had always cooked him comforting meals, one of the few comforts she could afford her son given the environment he grew up in, so Azriel had always seen cooking as a way of showing someone he cared.

So even though Azriel would cook for everyone from time to time, he started doing it more frequently and everyone could see it was all for you. He would make enough food for everyone in the IC but in their opinion, it wasn’t a coincidence that he always asked you what you were craving, never asked them, always cooked your favorite meals, and always, always, prepared your plate first.

He would always serve your plate the way you liked it, and would have you wait at the table while he brought it for you. He never served himself first, not even the High Lord or the High Lady. They found it incredibly amusing how he treated you like royalty and basically ignored them when you were around. (Not that they expected that treatment from him, but it was certainly funny to see Azriel go from overly observant of everything and everyone to basically having tunnel vision for you.)

And it wasn’t just big meals it was like anytime he was cooking for himself he would make you something too, a snack, a dessert, a juice, a tea literally he just started including you.

Now, he wasn’t the only one to do these sweet things for you, you definitely had your own ways of cluelessly showing your devotion for him. Like you would get him oils, and soaps, and salts to help him relax. “Okay AZ, this one’s for sleep, this one’s for sore muscles, this one’s to help you concentrate…” and you would make sure to jot down everything so he wouldn’t get them mixed up and could get the best use out of them. One time it even prompted Cass to ask Nesta where his smellies were after you had been out in the town with her and had picked up all the goodies… Now that caused a whole scene, meanwhile you and Az were in your own little world smelling all the tiny bottles.

You would also polish all his weapons whenever you had some down time. Or you would read a book and take little notes along the margins and then you would give it to him, sharing all the thoughts you wrote down in those pages. He would then write his own notes and give it back to you, because you were each other's confidants, best friends, crushes (still not time to admit that), and very obviously (to everyone excluding the both of you), mates.

I could literally keep going LOL but I’ll stop now. Basically Azriel is just protective and caring and loving towards you and the rest of the IC notices everything he does for you and the effect you’ve had on him and they are patiently waiting for y’all to finally kiSS. Feyre and Cass have a bet going on when the bond will snap and who will feel it first.

#azriel #acomaf #acotar #fairydustblossom #acotar fanfiction #acowar #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acosf

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allysunny · 2 months

Note

heyyy hope ur well <3 i looooove ur writing so much it’s amazing! i had a request for bruce if that’s ok 24 & 2 + a book i was reading gave me an idea lol so could the reader be in an unhealthy abusive toxic relationship and falls for bruce who treats her soooo well and loves her soooo much unlike who she is currently with (she could have a reason why she can’t leave her partner maybe she’s so scared) and bruce is there for her always protecting her looking out for her worrying about her spoiling her he he genuinely is in love with her and you can add all ur magic to it and all ur awesome ideas. anyway if it’s not something u think fit ur writing or u don’t have enough time don’t worry it’s totally ok :))))) <3 <3 have a great day xx

For the Better

“You light up even the darkest of days” + “Please don’t leave me” + Kiss on the lips x Bale!Bruce Wayne

Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 22.1k words

Warnings: Abusive & toxic relationship, domestic violence, gaslighting, lying, manipulation, I'm talking really, really unhealthy relationship, angst, bruises and some blood, fluff, angst with happy ending, kissing, I literally don't know how else to tag this, but please read the warnings because this is a very fucked up relationship.

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the last entry for my 200 Followers Event. I want to thank everyone who participated and all those who showed their support. That means the world to me.

Now, oh my god. This is my magnum opus, I believe. It took me a whole week to write this. This fic is the apple of my eye, my baby, my sin, my soul, I would die for this. I think it's my best work so far. I have worked my ass off for this, I really have, and I have no words to convey just how special and dear this fic is to me.

I would also like to apologise if there are any inconsistencies - I started writing it last Monday and finished it Saturday, so it's been nearly a week and I might've forgotten small details as the days went on. I tried to proofread it!

I really hope you guys will enjoy it and cherish it as much as I did. <3

To Bruce, you were the most gorgeous woman in the entire world.

Your eyes could rival even the brightest star in the sky, the sun did not hold a candle to how radiant your smile was, and no flower could compare to your beautiful. You were simply gorgeous, inside, and out.

Unfortunately, you weren’t his.

Bruce had met you during a charity event. Some wealthy couple was raising funds for the Gotham Police Department (even though Bruce did not believe half of them deserved such charity), and he had of course been invited. The couple in question could not care less about philanthropy – they were merely trying to appear that way. That’s Gotham, for you.

You’d been waitressing during the event, carrying trays of hors-d'œuvre and champagne, smiling politely at guests and trying to do your job the best you could. You’d walked by him twice, and although you weren’t really paying attention to the guests (you were far more preoccupied with not tripping and making a scene), he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

He was so mesmerised, that he found himself searching for you whenever he wasn’t talking to anyone else. Sometimes when you returned to the kitchen, he saw you talking to your coworkers, smiling, and giggling about.

After a few hours of being bored to death by patrons with faux smiles and untrue compliments, he was ready to call it a night and return to the loneliness of his mansion – and that’s when you caught his attention.

Or rather, everyone’s attention.

You’d bumped into someone’s shoulder (it was actually someone’s shoulder who had bumped into you) and spilled the tray of appetisers on top of an old man who wasn’t pleased with the situation. The man, who he recognised as Charles Carnegie – a crooked businessman famous for his dabbles with illegal gambling and corruption – yelled at you, insulting you with every name in the book. The man was just about to raise his hand, no doubt to strike you across your face, when Bruce intervened, rushing between the two of you and gripping the man’s arm.

Charles looked up in confusion and his turbulent eyes widened in recognition.

“Mr. Wayne!” he exclaimed, voice dripping with anger, “Let go of me this instant. Did you not see what happen? This foolish girl was not paying attention and spilled her tray all over me. I do not know how such incompetent staff can be hired. Someone ought to teach this insubordinate brat a lesson!”

Bruce’s hold on the man’s arm only tightened. How dare he speak to you like that? You were standing behind him, head hung low and muttering a string of apologies that were barely audible.

“Mr. Carnegie, if anyone here deserves to be taught a lesson, it is you.” He said, eyes narrowing. “Your inebriation and inability to watch where you’re going is not this woman’s fault. If you cannot behave at a public function, perhaps you shouldn’t think of attending. This server is not at fault, and you will apologize to her.”

The older man scoffed and tried stepping away from Bruce’s grip but failing.

“How dare you! Mr. Wayne, this – this – this harlot bumped into me! My suit is ruined, and she has insulted my dignity. Let go of me this instant, Mr. Wayne, or else – “

“Or else what?” Bruce asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, audible only to the man standing in front of him. “We are currently surrounded by the police our hosts were so kind to fundraise for. The entire Gotham Police Department is here, and while I know that most of them are corrupt scum like you, I am also familiar with the ones who would be more than overjoyed to throw you into jail for illegal gambling, embezzlement of funds and propositioning. I can ruin you with nothing short of three sentences, and you can bet that should you not apologize to the young woman standing behind me, I will.”

The colour drained from Charles’s face, and he stuttered, trying to come up with a decent response. It was no secret that the Carnegies were a powerful family. But the Waynes were almost royalty, and everyone in Gotham would rather swallow their whole fist than get into their bad graces. Especially Bruce Wayne’s. Surely, a man who showed up to every social function with not only a new car but a gorgeous new woman on his arm, wasn’t afraid to pull a few strings to get what he wanted – even if that meant ruining someone’s life.

“I – I – Mr. Wayne, how dare you – “

“Apologize to the young lady, or I will personally make sure all your belongings are gone by the time this godforsaken party is over. You’ll be sleeping on the floor before you can threaten me or anyone else again.”

Charles stuttered a few more times, before gulping and nodding. Bruce released his arm, and the man was quick to hold his wrist, twisting it a few times. Who would’ve known the Wayne orphan had such a death grip?

He looked up and Bruce moved out of his way to partially reveal you, yet still close enough to protect you should Charles decide to hurt you further.

“I – I am…” he stumbled over his words, shaking his head. “My apologies, Miss. My behaviour was… It was unacceptable. I am sorry for my lack of attention, and for bumping into you. I hope you can accept my most sincere apologies.” The words sounded scared – not necessarily genuine but scared – and they almost made Bruce smirk.

“It’s alright,” you muttered, eyes still fixated on the floor. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bruce wrinkled his nose at how meek you sounded and looked around himself. The situation had turned rather awkward – people were staring in his direction and murmuring to themselves. So, he did the only thing plausible.

“Ladies and gentlemen, why are we standing here, when the caviar has just been served?” he exclaimed loudly, plastering on his most charming Bruce Wayne smile, which had the guests immediately react, answering with soft chuckles of their own. “Our lovely police force should be honoured the right way – but that doesn’t mean they should get all the good food for themselves!”

The crowd that had formed around you three quickly dissipated, and so did Bruce’s smile when he finally got a good look at you. You were down on your knees, picking up your tray and trying to pick up some of the appetisers to clean up your mess a bit.

“Hey,” he chided softly to get your attention. “Hey, please, look at me.”

When you didn’t, he kneeled down next to you.

That’s when he saw you. Truly saw you.

Your face was puffy, eyes red and wet with tears that you’d tried your best to wipe away. You looked nervous and miserable, and all Bruce wanted to do was bring you close and make you feel better.

“Sir, I – he was right,” you mumbled, shaking your head, trying your best to clean up the floor with nothing but your bare hands and the napkin you carried on your arm. “I bumped into him. You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”

“I saw him,” Bruce replied softly. “He bumped into you. And even if he hadn’t, it did not mean he had the right to hit you. I was not going to let him do it.”

You nodded and sighed, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your arm.

“I caused you all that trouble. I’m really sorry. Shit, I feel terrible. I ruined that man’s suit and made such a mess… Nathan would mock me to hell and back if he saw me like this…” this caused the dam to break, and you wept loudly. Bruce did not really know what to do. What did one do whenever a woman was crying? He’d had a few one-night-stands in which the women cried once they realised he wanted nothing more to do with them, but they usually left by themselves, claiming he was a “heartless jerk”, and that was the rest of it.

He took the napkin from your hands and offered you a reassuring smile.

“If it makes you feel better that man deserved it. Charles Carnegie is a well-known corrupt and needed a reality check. If I could, I would’ve probably done that on purpose.”

This earned a soft chuckle from you, and you stood up, Bruce following right after.

“I’m going to call someone to take care of this.” You said, to which Bruce nodded.

“I’ll come with you.”

“There’s really no need for that, it’s okay – “

“Nonsense. That old jerk might try to follow you and threaten you again. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

You nodded, and quickly made your way towards the kitchen, where you asked for someone’s help. They were quick to reply, and within a few minutes, the whole place was spotless, and no one could tell anything had happened if they looked at the floor.

As soon as it was done, you turned to Bruce and offered him a small smile.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Wayne. What you did back there was very kind. I don’t even know how I could ever repay you.”

Bruce lifted a hand and shook his head.

“There’s no need to repay me. I’m just happy I could help.”

You nodded sheepishly, and extended your hand, telling him your name.

“It’s very nice to meet you.”

Bruce shook it and his hold may have lingered on yours for a tad longer than what would have been acceptable, before tasting your name on his lips.

“It’s a lovely name. I’m Bruce. Wayne.”

“Yes – I gathered. Everyone knows you,” you chuckled.

“Sometimes I wish they didn’t.” He confided.

“I’m not sure that’s for the best. Being invisible has its downsides, I’m afraid.”

You gave him his number, and the two began to talk rather quickly, even going as far as deciding to gather for ice-cream about two weeks after your initial meeting. He texted you, saying he knew of a fantastic ice-cream parlour next to his company’s building, and invited you. You’d agreed almost instantly, replying with a bunch of emojis – and that’s how you found yourself next to Bruce Wayne, eating ice-cream. You’d gotten a lemon flavoured scoop, while Bruce went for mint.

“I was surprised you wanted to meet up!” You said, beaming up at him once you had paid for your sweet treat. Or rather, after Bruce had paid for it. He insisted, telling you he couldn’t possibly let a lady pay. You made him promise he’d let you pay next time, to which he replied, “We’ll see”.

“Really?” He replied. “Why is that?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne. Don’t you have like, I don’t know, a bazillion cars to drive, and a bunch of models to date, and lots of money to spend? Why’d you invite me to ice-cream?”

“I’m spending my money on ice-cream,” he gave you a cheeky smirk.

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckled and ate a spoonful of the treat in your hand.

“To be honest, my day was going terribly. I needed some fresh air, and you seemed like good company.” He was being as honest as he could. His day at Wayne Enterprises was going terribly, with a bunch of investors trying to go behind his back and steal some of his money. It had been a hassle, but thankfully all had been taken care of. He needed something to distract him from the stress.

“Oh, tell me about it,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “The restaurant today was hellish. It was as if Satan had spawned a hundred different little devil women to make my day worse.” You told him about all the “Karens” that had bothered you, insisting you’d gotten their order wrong, when they were simply too drunk to function (even though it was around midday), complaining about how weird their food tasted, or even going as far as telling you they did not like the decoration. It made your blood boil, but a girl needed to pay her bills, so you sucked it up.

Bruce chuckled at your descriptions of the acts you’d like to perform to those women – none of them very family friendly – and found it rather cute when you decided to deal with your frustrations by scooping a large spoonful of your lemon flavoured ice-cream. You moaned in delight once the soft food melted on your tongue and smiled.

“Nathan would just freak out if he tried these,” you said, “He’s a sucker for good ice-cream.”

Bruce’s brow quirked quizzically. Nathan? The name sounded oddly familiar coming from your lips, but he couldn’t quite tell why. You seemed to notice his expression because you were quick to continue.

“My boyfriend. I’ve mentioned him before, remember? I think I mentioned at the party too.” You hummed and ate another spoonful of ice-cream, groaning once again. “This is good. Really good. Wow.”

“Ah. Yes, your boyfriend.” Bruce nodded. He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed. Sure, he’d only known you for two weeks, and you had told him about Nathan early on (he simply decided to ignore that) but he’d be lying if he said the thought of more than just a friendship hadn’t crossed his mind. It was only natural, and he considered himself to be an efficient man, who went for what he wanted – well, almost. Batman had made that a tad impossible, but Bruce was still figuring it out.

“Mhm!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Nathan and I have been dating for a few years. We’re actually close to four!” You quickly told him how you and Nathan had met, something you surprisingly had not done before. You’d been accompanying a friend of yours to the ER after someone had spilled a pan of burning hot oil on top of her. The Emergency Room Doctor, Nathan Smith, had taken care of her very quickly, but it was on you he had his eyes during the entire appointment. After the both of you had thanked him, and your friend had a bandaged arm, he’d stopped you in your tracks and politely asked if you would give him your number. You couldn’t lie to yourself – he was handsome, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, and a kind smile, and you swore he could’ve been a model if he wanted to. So, you had said yes.

“And the rest was history,” you finished. “We’ve been together ever since.”

Bruce hummed and busied himself with taking another spoonful of mint ice cream to his lips. “I see,” he hummed. “Well, I hope everything goes well with your relationship. He sounds nice.”

“He really is. I love him.” There were stars in your eyes, and while part of Bruce scowled, unhappy with this man he had never met before, another wanted to smile, because you did seem like a lovely girl, and he did want to see you happy.

After that day, you and Bruce became close friends.

He got to know you. You worked a job at a two Michelin star restaurant, waiting tables. That’s how you’d heard of the charity gala gig – word spread around that a rich couple was looking to hire some servers, and you’d applied in the hopes of making a few extra bucks.

He learned that you were a very resilient person, not at all like the way you’d appeared that day at the gala. You’d told him you were simply having a terrible day, with a few costumers yelling in your face during your regular shift. Charles Carnegie doing the same thing at night was the straw that broke the camel’s back and seemed to break you.

He got to know all your hobbies, and the things you liked to do for fun. Learned all your favourite books, the movies you liked to watch when you were down, the snacks you liked to munch on whenever your day went sour. He learned what made you tick, and the things that inspired you. You told him about your family – the relatives you loved, those you were close with, and the ones that simply did not deserve to be in your life anymore.

Every time you disclosed some piece of information about your life, Bruce drank it all up. He wanted to know you, all of you. He listened whenever you complained to him about work, whenever you texted him with any sort of happy news, or when you called him late at night because you felt lonely. It had been so long since Bruce had someone to call his friend, and he loved every bit of it. He knew he wasn’t the first person you came to whenever you wanted to talk. Part of him wished he was your first choice, but he saw the look in your eyes whenever you mentioned Nathan.

And speaking of, he even got to meet said Nathan.

A few weeks after your second meeting, the one where you’d gone out for ice-cream, Bruce decided to surprise you by having a meal at the restaurant you worked at. He asked for a table, and specifically asked for you as his server. The owner was clearly surprised; not only did he not expect Bruce Wayne of all people to have dinner at his restaurant, but he also wasn't expecting him to ask for a specific server. Especially one that seemed as insignificant as you. Bruce assured him it was vital that he had you as his server, and the man quickly relented, happy to tend to the billionaire’s every need.

“Hi, welcome to La Lune d'Argent. My name is – “ Before you could continue, you looked up and a grin spread across your face. “Bruce! What are you doing here?”

“Having dinner. What does it look like?” He replied with a smile.

“You could've told me you were coming! I’d have gotten you the best table.”

“This one is just fine, I promise. And letting you know in advance would sort of ruin the purpose of a surprise, don't you think?”

“You wanted to surprise me?” Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you shook your head, trying to get rid of it. Not only did you have a boyfriend, but you were also at your workplace and needed to remain professional. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

Bruce smiled once again, before opening the menu in front of him and eyeing it.

“What do you recommend?” He asked.

“Well, the Seared Scallops with Truffle Risotto are our specialty. The Lobster Thermidor is also really good, and so are the Stuffed Shrimp with Crabmeat. But if you’re not in the mood for fish, then I recommend the Chateaubriand and the Filet Mignon. The Tournedos Rossini is a costumer favourite, but I’ve tried it and don’t think it’s all that.”

Bruce nodded, before going over the wine section.

“And the wine?”

“It depends. If you pick any of the fish dishes, then you should go with the Chardonnay or the Prosecco. If you go for the meat, then you should most likely enjoy a glass of Cabernet or Merlot. There’s plenty more, but I’m I wouldn’t be of any help with those. I’m terrible when it comes to wine.” You recited, the words spilling naturally from your lips – you’d done this a thousand times.

“That’s okay. Well then, how about I have the Foie Gras Terrine and the Truffle Risotto Croquettes as appetisers, and for the main dish, I’d like the Chateaubriand if possible. I’d also like a side of salad. As for the wine, I trust the owner’s good judgment. Cabernet it is.” He waited until you were done writing everything down and handed you the menu.

“Anything else?” You asked, taking it, and tucking it under your arm.

“Is your company too much to ask for?” He offered you a smile.

“Some of us have to actually work, Mr. Wayne,” you joked and stuck your tongue out playfully, “I’ll have your appetisers here in a minute.”

Dinner went well. The food was stellar (there was after all a reason the restaurant had two Michelin stars), the wine lived up to the expectations, and your company – or rather, the small moments you managed to spare him – warmed his heart. You offered him small quips about your work, told him about the usual costumers that sat on their usual tables and had their usual meals, gossiped about those you didn't like. It felt nice, to have a good time at work. You didn't completely hate your job, no, and some days were definitely fun thanks to your coworkers or any sort of shenanigans that happened during your shifts, but it could get boring and lonely and upsetting. Bruce being there was a nice change, and a welcome one.

“When does your shift end?” He asked, after he’d eaten a nice slice of cheesecake for dessert.

“In about half an hour, I believe. I have an early night today.”

“I’ll wait for you then.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to, Bruce – “

“Nonsense. Do you have a ride home?”

“I’ll just take the train.”

“I'll give you a ride then.”

“Bruce, that’s seriously not necessary – “

You were interrupted by the voice of your boss, calling out your name in an accusatory tone. “Do I pay you to sit around and talk to costumers?”

You sighed and nodded towards Bruce.

“Thank you. A ride home would be nice.”

He waited until you were done, paid for his meal and left you a nice tip, and then waited outside. You took a few minutes, but soon enough you were walking towards him, wrapped around in a comfortable looking jacket.

“You ready to go?” you asked before a voice called out.

“Babe?”

You turned around, and your eyes widened before softening at the sight before them. “Nate!” You smiled, making your way to him, and hugging him tightly. Nate hugged you back just as tight, but his eyes did not leave the tall man that had been by your side.

“Who is this?” He asked, discontent clear in his voice.

“Oh!” You turned to face Bruce, arm linked with Nathan’s. “This is Bruce! I told you about him, remember? He’s my friend.”

“You did tell me about your friend. You did not mention your friend was the Bruce Wayne.”

“Well, that’s because he’s not the Bruce Wayne to me. He’s just Bruce.” You smiled, and Nathan didn't seem too pleased once Bruce extended his hand.

“Bruce Wayne.” He spoke. Nathan shook his hand, steel-like eyes taking the taller man in, his expensive clothes and pulled-together appearance.

“Nathan Smith. So, you’re my girl’s friend, is that right?” He asked, pulling you closer by the waist. It wasn't hard to miss the jealous look in his face, and Bruce decided to ease the guy’s mind a bit, not wanting to get into any trouble. And not wanting to get you into any trouble.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah? That’s funny because she’s barely said a word about you.” Nathan replied, offering Bruce a tight-lipped smile, and turning to you. “I came here to surprise you. Heard you were getting an early night, wanted to give you a lift home. Maybe we can make up for lost time? I miss you.” It did not take an idiot to see what the hell he was getting at, and it made your duck your head slightly, clearly embarrassed.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you. I loved the surprise.” You faced Bruce once again and offered him an apologetic smile. “Nate will take me home, if that’s fine by you.”

“Fine by him? What's this got to do with him?” Your boyfriend asked, chuckling dryly, and giving you a not so amused look.

“Bruce had offered to take me home. It was kind of him, so I said yes.”

“Yes, yes, very kind.” Nathan turned to Bruce too. “As you can see, your help is no longer needed. I’ll be taking my girlfriend home now.” He said the words with a sneer, happy to claim you as his.

“Yes, well. Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Oh, I do.”

You looked awkwardly in between both men and cleared your throat moving away from your boyfriend to envelop Bruce in a hug.

“Thank you for the surprise. It was really nice. And thanks for the offer too. The ride back home one. I’ll see you some other day?”

“Absolutely,” He replied and turned to leave.

As he walked away, he could hear Nathan’s voice and how accusatory it sounded.

“Surprise? What was that all about? Why was that guy visiting you at work?”

“He’s a friend, Nate. He just wanted to stop by.”

“Oh yeah? And what business does he have just stopping by? He’s not your boyfriend. I am.”

“He’s just a friend, Nate. I promise. Let's just go home, please? I miss you.”

Bruce was inside his car before he could properly make out whatever Nathan had replied to you, but he could tell it was nothing good.

The next time Bruce saw you, you were sitting by yourself at a coffee shop, having an iced drink and reading a book. He thought about approaching you but decided against it. You looked peaceful, and he didn't want to upset you should you not want to see him after the whole ordeal with your boyfriend went down.

But he was pleasantly surprised when he heard your voice call his name, and your hand beckoning him to come closer.

“Hey! I had no idea you came to this place. Wanna sit next to me?” You asked, moving your bag out of the chair in front of you, making space for him,

“Sometimes, on my lunch break. I take it today is your day off?”

“Mhm! Got today all to myself. I was supposed to spend it with Nathan, but we kind of fought so I decided to get some fresh air myself. You know, just to clear my head.” You said the words “kind of fought” as if they meant nothing, as if fighting with your boyfriend was a daily occurrence. He didn't like that.

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” Bruce sat down in front of you, placing his own coffee on the table.

“Nah, not really. That’s just who Nate is. He gets upset sometimes, and I have to put some space in between us. No big deal. What about you? What are you up to?”

“Well, like I mentioned, this was supposed to be my lunch break, but I took the afternoon off. Alfred – my butler – is supposed to come pick me up later. It’s the anniversary of my parents’ marriage. I want to visit their graves.”

Your eyes softened and you placed a hand on top of his. Your palm felt warm on top of his, and Bruce immediately turned his hand so he could slot his fingers in between yours.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you said. After all, what more could you? Everyone knew Bruce Wayne’s story, but you did not want to seem presumptuous and assume you knew all about him. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“Me too,” Bruce replied quietly, his voice thick with emotion, the way it usually was whenever he mentioned his parents. He didn't speak about them to many people, but let his facade slip completely for those he did trust enough.

“Is it okay if I come with?” You asked, and immediately regretted it. Why would you ask such a thing? Why would he even allow you to attend such a private thing with him? It was dumb, really. Before you could take your words back though, he replied, eyebrow quirked.

“Really?”

You shrugged sheepishly.

“Sure. It sounds tough, and I don’t want you to suffer all by yourself. You tend to do that.”

It was true. Bruce often hid his feelings, his emotions, shielding them from everyone. It hadn’t been that long since you two had started talking – maybe one or two months – but you could already tell he was very selective with the people he trusted. And how could he not be? You wanted to be someone he could trust, though. Wanted to be someone he could rely on, help him shoulder all his burdens.

Bruce thought it over for a bit. It would be nice to have some company. Visiting his parents’ grave was a very personal and intimate thing, yes, but he considered you a friend, and he’d be lying if he said he didn't want your company. He was sure both his father and his mother would've liked you, would've enjoyed your sense of humour and appreciated his kindness. So why not?

“I would appreciate that,” he said, and you smiled. “Won't it be a problem with Nathan?”

“Don't worry about him. He’s not the boss of me, and I'm not doing anything wrong.”

That’s how you found yourself, standing in front of the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne, the beautiful Wayne Manor just ahead.

“I’m sure they loved each other very much,” you said, eyes not leaving the carved stones in front of you.

“They did.” Bruce agreed with a nod. “My father would bring my mother flowers nearly every day. She used to joke about having her own private flower shop thanks to him. He never stopped though. He’d bring her different flowers according to her mood. That’s just how he was. Always looking out for her. He could tell whenever she was sad, or happy, or worried.”

“What an amazing husband,” you smiled, picturing the late Thomas Wayne reading his wife and choosing flowers accordingly.

“And my mother was just as amazing as him. She could tell when he had had a bad day at the hospital. I never could – she used to tell me she could sense it in the first few steps he took whenever he arrived home. Whenever he felt down, she’d help Alfred make his favourite meal. He didn't have to ask, she simply did it out of the goodness of her heart, and all her love for him.”

“It must've been incredible to be surrounded by such love. You were very lucky, Bruce. And I'm sure your parents loved you just as much as they loved each other, if not even more.”

You smiled up at him and he offered you a small smile in return. You were right. He had been lucky to have experienced such love and affection at a young age. It made him realise the kind of relationship he wanted to be with and taught him the kind of partner he should be.

He was just about to speak when your phone started chiming.

“Sorry – forgot to mute it,” you mumbled, turning the sound off. It didn't do anything to quiet it down though, since it just kept vibrating in your pocket. You huffed and turned it on, brows furrowing in confusion, and then relaxing.

“It’s Nate,” you said, not looking up from the screen, “He’s apologising for our fight. Says he was in a very bad emotional state. Poor thing… He’s very self-conscious, you know. Keeps telling me he’s too lucky to have me, that I could have anyone in the world, but I settled for him. He always thinks he’s not good enough for me, that I'll leave him for someone else” You chuckled dryly, before continuing, “He couldn't be farther from the truth, though. I’m the lucky one.” You looked up and Bruce and pointed to the phone in your hand. “I should probably go. Nate wants to apologise in person, and I should probably talk to him.”

Bruce nodded and pointed to the limo standing near the street.

“Alfred will take you home.”

“Thanks.” You smiled up and him and moved forward to hug him. Bruce softened immediately. You slotted perfectly against him, and he felt like a piece of a puzzle that had just found its matching half. Unfortunately, you pulled away, taking all the warmth with you.

“I’ll see you some other time,” you said, walking away.

Once you were out of his view, he turned to his parents.

Perhaps someday he’d be able to love you like they loved each other.

Bruce was working when he received a text from you. It had been a few days since you’d visited his parents’ grave with him, and you hadn't spoken face-to-face since. You’d been texting non-stop though, telling each other about your day, sending pictures of your respective meals, or just sharing funny anecdotes or pictures you saw online that reminded you of each other. Bruce clicked on the notification with your name.

Look at this!

[1 file attached]

Clicking on the picture, he could see your radiant face, partially hidden by a huge bouquet of roses. They did nothing to steal the shine from you though, and Bruce cringed at how they paled in comparison to your beauty. He was quick to shoot back a reply,

They look pretty. Secret admirer?

You were even quicker to reply.

They’re from Nate, as an apology! Isn't he the sweetest? He’s been spoiling me rotten. I don't think I deserve it.

Bruce’s stomach twisted at the mention of your boyfriend. His fingers flew across the screen as he typed.

You deserve that, and much more.

You replied with a smiley face, and that was the end of your conversation for the day.

It was hard to get back to work after that, his thoughts plagued with you. Your nice smile, your kind words, the way you fit perfectly against the shape of his body and how tightly you’d hugged him back on the Manor grounds. He knew it was wrong to want you - you were dating someone else, and it’s not like you knew each other for a long time, but he couldn't help it.

Bruce took a deep breath, and gulped down an entire glass of water, before chastising himself and focusing on whatever task he had left to complete.

It didn't work, and Lucius found him staring at the screen of his phone for a good five minutes, before deciding his boss probably deserved a break from his somewhat incessant teasing.

After that, you met up with Bruce a few more times.

You’d meet up sometimes for lunch or a late afternoon snack, and you’d even had breakfast together once. You chalk it up to friendly outings, and so does Bruce (although he’s sadder than you to admit that). Unfortunately, these meetings were not filled with chatter about your lives, motivations, and dreams for the future. Instead, you worried your pretty little head off thinking about Nathan, who didn’t text you for hours, seemingly pushing away from you, only to give you mixed signals the next day and apologising for his behaviour. Bruce could see how draining it was, could see how you always glanced at your phone whenever the two of you were together, and how you seemed to walk on eggshells whenever Nathan called you.

Things would get harder for the two of you at night – Bruce was out patrolling the city as Batman, something he had not and would never tell you – and you sometimes you got lonely. Bruce simply told you he was busy, and you in good faith, believed him. After all, he was a busy man, running a busy company, leading a busy life. You were lucky enough he managed to spend some time with you during the week.

Bruce had become your closest friend. You loved hanging out with him. It was like he got you. He was a great listener, always providing you with great insight whenever you asked for it, or simply being a shoulder to cry on if you wanted to. He would give you solid advice, support you on (nearly) every decision and all of your hobbies, encouraging you to seek out new experiences and the things you’ve always wanted to do but were never brave enough to.

One day, the two of you were meeting up for coffee. You had your legs tucked under yourself, grabbing a warm mug with both of your hands. You loved this café; loved the ambient, the fluffy pillows and couches, the vast choice of drinks. It was your own special little corner, and you were happy to bring Bruce along.

You two were in a middle of a conversation about your favourite books, before your phone buzzed. You decided to ignore it, but it just buzzed again. And again. And again. A bunch of texts messages started coming through, and as you picked up your phone, it started ringing.

“It’s Nate,” you mumbled, accepting the call, and mouthing a small “sorry” to Bruce, who nodded.

“Hey honey,” you said. Bruce could make out your boyfriend’s voice from the other side of the line, and he could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“Where the hell are you!?” he heard Nathan say, and you involuntarily flinched in your seat, frowning.

“I’m at a café. I told you this, didn’t I?” you asked.

“Yeah, well, Ricky just texted me saying he saw you sitting with some other guy. What the fuck is going on?”

“Another guy?” you mumbled, “Nate, I’m with Bruce. We’re out for coffee, that’s all.”

Bruce heard Nathan scoff, and his fists curled on his lap. He was just glad you couldn’t see it.

“Ah, of course. Fucking Bruce. It’s always him, isn’t it?”

This seemed to get you riled up.

“I asked you if you wanted to come with me, and you told me no. You said you had better things to do and hated this place,” you shook your head, brows furrowing in anger. “So, I invited a friend. I’m allowed to have other friends, you know.”

“Yeah, sure. And it had to be a guy? You had to invite a guy out for coffee? Just the two of you?”

You curled into yourself and away from Bruce, lowering your voice.

“Nate, if you cancel on me, I’m going to invite other people. It’s just Bruce.”

“That guy’s trying to get into your fucking pants, and you know it, and you keep encouraging him. How does that make me feel, huh? Knowing you’re out there with some other douche who wants to jump your bones?” Bruce wanted nothing more than to seek out the asshole you were dating and beating him to a pulp. How he even dared to speak to you like that was beyond him, but he decided to say nothing. At least not yet.

“Nate, I don’t like it when you talk to me like this. He’s just a friend, I told you, you have no reason to be jealous – “

“Yeah sure. Don’t bother coming home.”

And he hung up.

Bruce eyed you, the way your pretty eyes welled up with tears and how you quickly wiped them away, throwing your phone and belongings to the purse sitting next to you.

“I – I’m sorry, Bruce, I – I need to go. I have to sort this out with him.” You mumbled, standing up. Bruce, however, was quicker, and stood in front of you, blocking your path.

He furrowed his brows and spoke in a low voice as not to startle you.

“He shouldn’t talk to you like this.”

“He’s right. I know he is – I know he’s got low-self-esteem issues, he’s just worried is all. He’s afraid to lose me, I know he is.” You said these words like a mantra, and Bruce wondered just how long you’d been repeating them to yourself. It made his heart ache. He reached out to wipe your tears, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry for cutting our meeting short, Bruce,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you later.”

And you were out of his sight.

“Hang out?” Bruce asked, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he shaved.

“Yeah!” he could hear your excited voice on the other side, and it made him smile. “It’ll be just me and Nate and some more friends. I know how you are with strangers, so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I thought it’d be nice if you were out of your house for once. You spend all those nights working, you’ve gotta learn to have fun!”

It was partially true. He did spend all these nights working. Just not a very conventional job. In fact, he’d been spending the last few weeks looking into Nathan Smith. His past, his present, and making assumptions on his future. He had all eyes on this douche.

“Bruce? Are you there?” you called, “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re not a fan of other people – “

“I’ll be there.” He said curtly, blade gliding against his smooth skin. “Just text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”

“Really?” you let out a squeal of excitement and Bruce nearly cut himself with the sound. He realised then just how much he wanted you to be like that all the time. Happy. Excited.

“Really.”

“Okay – okay! I’ll let you know where and when! I can’t wait to see you again! I have to go now though, my shift’s about to start. See you soon, yes?” You hung up and Bruce chuckled to himself. He couldn’t wait to see you either. He wasn’t, although, very eager to see Nathan. But for your sake, he’d be on his best behaviour.

You met a few days after the phone call, at a local bar.

It was bustling with people and energy. Loud music was being played on speakers, the whole place smelled of cheap beer, and the people’s noise was deafening. Still, he overlooked all of that just for the sheer pleasure of hanging out with you.

“Bruce!” You called out, getting up from your spot near the counter and hurrying to meet him halfway. You hugged him tightly and he once again felt like you were meant to be in his arms forever. When you pulled away, he smiled. “You made it!” You were wearing an off-the-shoulder top and a pair of shorts decorated with small lace at the bottom. But Bruce couldn’t care less about what you were wearing – you always looked radiant.

“Of course I did.”

“Here, come meet my friends!”

You dragged him to a small group of people and introduced him to everyone. He was expecting more and was glad to find it was only you plus 4 others. Nathan was still on his way, you told him.

All of you kept light conversation for a while. Bruce did not really try to keep up with your friends’ conversations. One of them kept rubbing herself all up against him, giggling and obviously trying to get herself into his good graces. She was clearly only interested in his money, and Bruce had to excuse himself a few times just to get away.

After a few minutes, your head turned and you smiled, standing up to greet someone.

Nate.

“Hey honey!” You smiled, lifting your head to kiss him on the lips. Nathan quickly scanned the table, and once his eyes fell on Bruce, he scowled, one hand coming down to grip your waist, and the other to give you a light squeeze on your ass cheek (which made Bruce cringe and want to punch this jerk to next Sunday).

“Hello. Didn’t know we’d be having so much company,” the doctor sneered, eyes lingering on the Wayne billionaire.

“Well, if you don’t like me meeting up with friends on my own, I thought we could all meet up. Isn’t it a nice solution?” you smiled, but Nate didn’t seem to care about it. How dare he, Bruce thought. If you were his, he would never overlook your smile. Never. But she’s not yours, a tiny voice whispered inside his head.

Nate then turned to you, eyeing you up and down. His eyes lingered on your exposed collarbone and shoulders, and on the shorts that adorned your pretty legs. He sneered.

“And what the fuck is this?” he asked with a scoff.

“Hm?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?��

“Oh! These are new!” you spun in your place, showing off your outfit. “Do you like them? I thought the lace details were super cute – “

“So you’re wearing this out?” Nate crossed his arms, visibly upset. “Seriously? Don’t you think it’s a bit too revealing?”

It wasn’t, really. The top, even if it was off-the-shoulder, did not expose your cleavage too shockingly. The shorts weren’t too short either, covering just the right amount of skin. And even if the clothes were too short (which they weren’t), Bruce thought Nathan should just mind his fucking business.

“You think so?” your smile was quickly replaced by a pout, and you looked down at your clothes self-consciously.

“Yes, I fucking think so. I don’t understand why you feel the need to dress like that, show that much skin. People might get the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea? Nate, they’re just clothes. There’s nothing wrong with them.”

The atmosphere had become tense. Your friends were all giving each other knowing looks but kept to themselves. Bruce didn’t have the heart to simply stand there and watch though. He put an arm in between you and Nathan and spoke calmly.

“Look, I think she should be allowed to wear whatever she wants. It’s not like she’s naked – “

“Stay the hell out of this, rich guy. I couldn’t care less what you think, this is not your relationship, and she is my girlfriend.”

Bruce looked at you, but you seemed to be avoiding his gaze, eyes fixated on Nathan.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think they were that revealing when I tried them on. I just liked how they looked on me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fucking embarrassed to be seen with you when you dress like that. Dressed like a common whore.”

That was enough for Bruce. He stepped forward, ready to send his fist flying across this jerk’s face, but your smaller hand wrapped itself around his arm.

“Bruce, please,” you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay. He’s right. I am showing too much skin. I should dress more modestly.”

“He’s being a jerk,” Bruce muttered, eyes urging you to let him go. “I’m not letting him speak to you like that.”

“Please.” You sounded so meek, so small. It tugged at Bruce’s heartstrings, and he immediately lowered his arm. He’d do anything for you, really.

“Fine.”

“Yeah, that’s better.” Nathan scoffed, before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you close. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Without sparing him a second glance, you were out of the bar.

“I’m telling you, Alfred, that guy is the worst. I don’t understand how she’s still with him, he treats her like shit,” Bruce muttered to himself as he paced back and forth in his bedroom.

“Master Wayne, although I admire your compassion, I cannot help but wonder if you are sticking your nose in someone else’s business.” Alfred replied. He’d been watching Bruce walk holes into the floor, and although he wanted to help, the older man knew there was really nothing he could do.

“I know. I know I am but – she deserves better. She does, she deserves someone who’ll treat her right, who won’t talk to her that way, who will respect her and adore her – “

“Someone like you, I presume.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Bruce sighed and sat on his bed, defeated.

“Master Wayne, have you considered telling this girl the feelings you’re harbouring for her?” Alfred asked, moving closer to the bed.

“I can’t. She loves him Alfred, she… she loves him.” He muttered again.

The butler gave Bruce a sympathetic smile, before walking away.

You loved Nathan. You didn’t love him.

So why did it all feel so terribly wrong?

You walked inside Wayne Manor for the first time a few weeks later.

It was raining – pouring, even – and you’d desperately knocked on its big doors. Alfred opened them for you, and recognised you instantly, having stolen glances at Bruce’s phone whenever he looked at pictures of you.

“Hi – Hi, I’m sorry for the intrusion,” you quickly introduced yourself, tears running down your face. “Is – is Bruce here?”

Alfred gently guided you to the living room, where he told you to wait. You stood there awkwardly, picking at your fingers, and looking around, taking in the beauty of Bruce’s family home.

When Alfred returned, he brought with him a few towels, and Bruce Wayne himself. The latter was just about to leave for patrol, but upon hearing from Alfred that you were standing on his doorway, drenched from head to toe and crying, he decided to ditch his nightly duties.

“Hey,” he said, hurrying towards you. It was all it took – you collapsed in his arms, tears running down your face. Bruce held you tightly and you cried, burrowing your face in his chest. Alfred simply placed the towels on top of one of the couches, and took his leave, silently going upstairs to get a robe for you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Once you managed to stop crying, you looked up at him and sniffled, shaking your head.

“I’m so sorry – you’re all wet because of me now,” you told him.

Bruce shook his head and moved to hand you a towel.

“It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

You sighed and used the towel to dry your hair, wrapping the other one around your shoulders.

“It… it was Nathan.”

Bruce looked at you, eyes narrowing.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing! I mean – we just fought, that’s all. But it was a really nasty fight.” You said and burst into tears again. “He – he kept saying all I did was walk around and cheat on him! He said I didn’t truly love him, that I was selfish and only thought of myself. It – it’s not true! I love him Bruce, I really do!” You buried your face on your hands, and Bruce moved to sit by your side.

Bruce held you tightly in his arms, hand stroking your back and your head. You melted in his hold, breath evening out and tears eventually subsiding.

"I just... I don't know what to do, Bruce..." You mumbled against his chest. "I really do love him, but he said all of those mean things..."

Bruce's lips pressed into a thin line as he navigated the best way to go about this conversation.

"Nathan..." He mumbled, hands running through your hair. "Does he speak to you like this a lot?"

You sniffled, stilling in his arms.

"We fight... Lately we've been fighting a lot, but... I know he loves me... He doesn't mean it. He's been under so much stress, things at the hospital are getting chaotic and I've been stressing him out..."

Bruce shook his head, his hold unconsciously tightening around you. So he took his stress out on you? Jerk.

"That's not okay. He can't speak to you like this, he doesn't have the right to." Bruce pulled away to look you in the eyes and you sniffled as his big hands wiped your tears.

"He doesn't mean any harm, you know... He's under a lot of pressure from his superiors..."

He sighed once again, and then watched from the corner of his eyes as Alfred carried in his hand a tray of warm drinks and a fluffy robe.

"Look," he said, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "How about you change into something more comfortable, and we'll talk about it over a drink?"

You smiled and nodded, getting up and thanking Alfred, grabbing the robe so you could go change.

Once you came back, you told Bruce you did not want to talk about such sad topics any further, and simply wanted to distract yourself. Bruce was happy to oblige.

You settled in the couch side by side with a blanket covering your laps. He let you pick a movie, and you sat side by side, poking fun at whatever it was that was playing on the TV, sipping on warm beverages, and talking.

“So you’re telling me you don’t know how to make a cup of tea?” You asked, leaning back to look at Bruce with a serious expression.

“Look, I was a failure and I decided it was better not to learn instead of having Alfred annoy me about it. He’s very serious about his tea. You should hear him yell at me.”

You chuckled and involuntarily placed your legs over Bruce’s lap under the blankets. He was quick to lay his hands on top of them, drawing patterns absentmindedly.

“You’re impossible,” you chuckled.

“Oh, so you’re all high and mighty and capable of cooking anything and everything?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Even if I wasn't very good, I'm sure I'd be able to cook more than you. I had to, you know. Living on my own and all,” you shrugged, “Some people don’t have butlers doing everything for them.”

Bruce hummed. You were right. It was one of the things he admired the most about you. How unafraid you were to tell him exactly what you think, and how resilient you were, how strong-willed and stubborn. Bruce was sure he’d never met a woman as strong as you in his entire life.

“Alright, pay up.” You extended your hand.

Now you were sitting a few inches apart, a Monopoly board on the couch in front of you.

“You’re cheating,” he huffed, counting his bills.

“No, you’re simply not very good. Aren't you like, supposed to be a god at this or something? This is your whole life.” You popped a popcorn inside your mouth and smiled.

“Usually, lives aren't dictated by the throw of a dice,” he said, handing you two bills. “You're ruining me here. I’m gonna go bankrupt.”

“Then learn how to play better.” You shrugged and rolled your dice again, moving your piece accordingly. Bruce smiled. He could get used to this, spending time with you, cuddled up in his couch. That's where you were meant to be, next to him, in his arms, in his blankets. You were meant to be in his home, brightening up the place with something as small as a smile, in his life, brightening his whole existence with just a tilt of your head. It was at this moment that Bruce realised that his feelings for you ran way deeper than just a simple friendship. After all, friends didn't wish to spend eternity together. Friends didn't want to lick the popcorn salt off each other’s lips, friends didn't want to hold each other close and whisper sweet nothings in their ear.

As the night went on, so did the activities. When you were done with board games, you switched to card games (getting your ass kicked by Bruce, who was far too good at Poker for your own liking). You changed movies about three times, simply not satisfied with the choices you’d picked earlier – not that Bruce minded. You’d made a game out of changing movies every time the characters gave you second hand embarrassment and had plenty of fun yelling at the protagonists who slipped and stuttered and acted like bozos.

“Oh, come on,” you cringed, body twitching involuntarily. “Why is she singing Fight Song on top of a table? Do directors think this is how people behave?”

“You stood on top of my couch and yelled. I think that’s close to what’s happening on the TV,” The man next to you eyed you with amusement as you scoffed and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“That’s different, I won Monopoly,” you said nonchalantly, “Everyone knows you’re entitled to do whatever you want once you win Monopoly.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it in his direction, but you should've known better, because Bruce simply picked it mid-air and raised it in front of his head, to hit you back. However, at the sudden movement, your eyes widened, and you quickly flinched away from him, panic spreading all over your face.

Bruce let go of the pillow, heart breaking at the sight before him. What the fuck had just happened? Did you flinch away from him?

“I – “ You seemed to notice his worry and were quick to shake your head, laughing weakly. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, torn between reaching out and staying in place. He didn't want to scare you even more than he already had.

“Yes! Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I wasn't expecting you to do that. Was just trying to get away from the pillow.”

“You scrambled away from me.”

“Well, yes, you were going to hit me with a pillow, weren't you, Bruce?”

“I would never hurt you. You know that,” he whispered, and you looked away, still trying to pretend everything was fine.

“Well, I didn't want a pillow on my face. Alright? It’s nothing, I promise.”

He wasn't convinced in the least, and Bruce knew what it usually meant. His mind went back to Nathan, to the way he had treated you at the bar, to his behaviour towards you whenever you and Bruce were out for ice-cream or coffee. The gears were turning in his head, and you took notice of that, moving forward and holding his hands.

“Hey,” you smiled, although it didn't reach your eyes, “It’s fine. I promise. Everything is okay.”

He didn't believe it. Didn't buy it. But he had to earn your trust if he wanted to do something about it, and scaring you away wasn't an option.

He attempted to smile back, and nodded, muttering a small “Alright.”

You settled back next to him, and he could feel the way your body had tensed up as soon as your arms had brushed together. He needed to calm you down. So, he spoke.

About his life, about his childhood. He told you about all the times his father would let him tag along whenever he went to work at the hospital, how fascinated he was with his occupation. Saving lives. How great was that. He told you how much his father’s work had inspired him. He explained to you the intricate games he’d play in his gardens, pretending to be a detective who was investigating every sort of crimes. He wanted to save lives, just like his father did.

“You do, you know,” you mumbled, looking up from under his chin to get a good look at his beautiful face. “Even if you’re not a doctor, you still save lives. You make people’s lives better. All your philanthropy and charity are helping Gotham. You’re not doing this in vain.”

He smiled. If only you knew how much his charity and philanthropy extended.

You replied with stories of your own. The things you liked to do while growing up, the games you’d make up in your room, thinking of faraway lands with castles and elves and fantasies. You’d be a police officer one day, and a pirate the next. You told him about your childhood home, your high school, your college major. You showed him pictures of your roommates and the fun activities you did together.

It was an exchange. You’d tell him about yourself, and he would open up to you in return. The TV was still on, and both of you were looking at it, but none was paying attention. Your conversation was much more important.

Bruce told you about his childhood, how lonely he would feel sometimes. He told you sometimes he would isolate himself, the grief of having lost his parents far too much to bear. It made your heart ache and you found yourself leaning closer, wishing to take all of his pain away.

"You don't have to suffer all on your own now, though," you said, looking up to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "I'm here now. You can count on me to help you with whatever. You can trust me, Bruce." Your hand was suddenly on his cheek, palm hot and caring, and Bruce instantly leaned into it, sure that this was where he was meant to be – in your arms, staring into your eyes, baring his soul open. The air crackled in between you – it was as if the world had shifted and finally landed in place. It felt right. Everything felt right, and your eyes briefly drifted towards his lips.

He was just about to say something when a few loud knocks could be heard on the door. Your head whipped around in panic, the sound clearly startling you (something Bruce kept in mind).

"Alfred, could you please get that?" He asked, arm wrapping itself around you in an unconsciously protective move. You relaxed in his hold just as quickly as you’d stiffened, and his heart leaped. Did you feel safe with him?

The door slid open, revealing behind it a massive bouquet of red roses. The roses moved and Bruce quickly spotted the figure who was holding them.

"Nate?" You whispered, untangling yourself from Bruce's hold and taking tentative steps towards the door. Shit.

"Babe – hey," Nathan replied, sighing with relief once he spotted you. "I'm so sorry, I – I'm such an idiot. I'm the worst."

You eyed him sceptically, something like doubt shining in your eyes.

"I shouldn't have said any of those things. The hospital has been so busy, my bosses have been giving me shit every day, and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry, will you please forgive me?"

You hugged your arms, shielding yourself. You looked back at Bruce, who was watching the situation, lips a thin line and eyes cloudy.

"I didn't like the way you spoke to me... You really hurt, Nate, did you mean all of those things?"

"No! No – fuck no, I didn't. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. Please, let me make it up to you. I don't deserve you, but if you forgive me, I'll spend the rest of my days trying to prove to you I am worthy of your love. I'm so sorry. I'll be better. I promise. Babe, you make me better."

Bruce wasn't fazed by this speech. He didn't buy a single word of what Nathan had just told you, and once again, he would not keep it to himself. This man was manipulating you, preying on your emotions and your love for him, probably even going as far as laying his hands on you, and you deserved better.

"Perhaps you should've thought of those things before you treated her like shit." He said coldly, standing up and walking towards you. You turned away from him, which had Bruce's heart clench. Why were you turning from him?

But he didn't need to give it much more thought – you were already falling for Nathan's narrative.

"You – " Nathan's grip tightened. Bruce saw the way it tightened and saw your eyes land on his fist as well. This caused him to loosen it, and give a small, dry chuckle. "Bruce. Thank you so much for taking care of her. Truly. I'm so thankful you took care of my girl when she wasn't feeling well."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, babe, really. He's your friend, and I'm willing to get along with your friends. I'd do anything for you, you know it. Don't you?" He stuck out his hands, presenting to you the bouquet of roses in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other. It was only now that Bruce (and apparently, you as well) realised that both items, as well as the person who was carrying them, were dripping wet.

"You came all the way out here in the rain to apologise?" You asked, stepping out towards the man standing outside the door.

"Yes. Of course. I would do this and more for you, baby. You know that, don't you? I'll do anything for you. You drive me nuts, that's it. That's all! It's only because I love you so much that I act like this. Please give me another chance. I won't waste it. I know you deserve better than me, you could literally get any guy out there, but fuck... Please, just let me prove to you that you make me a better man." He looked desperate, panicked, blue eyes widening with fear.

It was useless. You were completely entranced by the manipulative bullshit this guy was spewing.

“Do you promise not to yell at me again?” You asked, taking another step towards him, fingers softly touching the rose petals.

“Yes. I do. I’ll never do it again – I promise babe. I’ll be better. I am better whenever I am with you. I know I overreacted, but it’s only because I love you. You make me crazy – I am crazy, for you.”

You looked up at him, something unsure in your eyes. You glanced back at Bruce, who furrowed his eyebrows and softly shook his head “no”. It wasn't a command or an order, simply some advice. This jerk didn't deserve you. You turned back to look at Nathan and took the roses he was holding from him.

“These are really pretty,” you mumbled, inhaling their scent.

“Not as pretty as you. So, what do you say? Will you forgive me? Please? Just give me another chance.”

You seemed to ponder it, quietly analysing the roses before you. Then, a bigger smile spread across your face, and you nodded, moving towards Nathan to wrap your arms around his neck. He sighed in relief and hugged you back, burrowing his face in your hair. When his gaze caught Bruce’s, his eyes hardened. If looks could kill, Bruce would be dead and gone. Perhaps it’s a good thing he wasn't scared of this jerk.

You let go of your boyfriend and turned to Bruce, holding the bouquet tightly in your hands.

“Thank you for your kindness, Bruce.”

“Are you sure about this – “

“But this is my relationship. We’re friends, aren’t we? I need you to trust me here, okay? It’s fine. Nathan’s apologised. Everything is okay now,” you smiled, and Bruce swore he could see something breaking behind your eyes.

“He doesn’t deserve you, he yelled and – “

“Look, I said I was sorry, alright, rich boy?” Nate interrupted, spitting the words. “Mind your own business. This is my relationship, alright? I appreciate that you were here for my girl, but your help is no longer needed.”

Then, he turned, taking you away with him.

The last thing Bruce saw before Nathan’s car was out of you, was you leaning over the console to press a sweet kiss on his cheek.

He didn't like this one bit. And he was not going to rest until he was sure you were away from this guy.

He didn't see you for a while after that.

At least not directly.

During his patrols, he would stop by your apartment and watch for any signs of either you or him. But either you were extremely shy, or Nathan was very careful about not letting anyone peek into their lives, and usually closed the blinds. Bruce was sure it was the latter. He could no longer peek inside – Lucius had destroyed the system that had allowed him to spy on every citizen in Gotham, after all – and was stuck texting you and trying to pry information from you.

The only thing you told him was that everything was fine. Nathan was a gentleman, taking you out for dinner and showering you in gifts, telling you he loved you. According to you, things couldn't be better.

Your texting patterns would be sporadic. Some days, he’d spend all day chatting with you, sending pictures and things that had reminded him of you, making plans to meet up and grab a bite. Others, you’d ignore him all day, giving him one-worded replies once or twice.

“Alfred, I just don’t know what to do,” he confessed once. “I’m pretty sure the bastard might be hitting her or something. The way she acts, the way he acts? Yelling at her, fighting, and then showering her with gifts and affection? It doesn't sit right with me.”

“Have you thought about reporting it to the police, sir?”

“I don’t have enough evidence,” he grumbled. “She flinched once, and they fight. That doesn't necessarily mean he’s abusive towards her. Besides, what if anyone investigates it, does not notice anything wrong, and he gets angrier? What if he takes it out on her?” Bruce placed his hands on his face and laid his arms on his knees. It was a tricky situation. If he wasn't abusive but was still a scumbag, he doubted you’d ever leave him. If he did hurt you in any physical way, he might be risking your own safety in case he reported anything.

Suddenly, his phone chimed, and he was pulled from his thoughts as your ringtone played. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

You were breathing heavily but did not say anything. Bruce was starting to worry.

“Hello? Is everything okay?”

“Yes – yes, it is,” you quickly said, and your voice held a foreign emotion to it, something Bruce couldn't quite place. “I’m sorry, I know it’s short notice, but do you want to grab something to eat? I was supposed to meet a friend, but she cancelled on me.”

Bruce looked up towards Alfred, who nodded in acknowledgement.

“Yes, sure. Of course, I'll meet you. Did you have any place in mind?”

“There’s this sandwich place near Gotham Mall, perhaps we could go there? I’ve been meaning to try it out for a while, but… Well, it’s just never been a right time. I’ll text you the address if you want to.” Something was up with your voice. You didn't usually sound so unconfident, at least not with him.

“I’d appreciate that. I’ll meet you there in 20. That okay?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you, Bruce.” There was a small tilt to your voice that Bruce paired up with a smile, and then you hung up.

20? He’d be there in 10.

Bruce was already sitting down by a window, wearing a casual dark blue polo when you walked in. It was impossible to miss him – you found him the most handsome man in the world, with his beautifully carved jawline and his kind eyes.

What were you even saying? You have a boyfriend. Control yourself. If he knew you were even having these thoughts…

Instinctively, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you.

Once Bruce spotted you, he stood up to meet you halfway. You hugged him briefly, tensing under his touch, which he simply chalked up to awkwardness after that night. Had you felt the same he had? Was that why you were acting so strange?

“Thank you for meeting me,” you sighed, sitting down. “My friend cancelled last minute; I didn’t know who else to call. I hope you don’t feel like a last resort or anything – you were actually the first person I thought about.”

Bruce nodded. A waitress came over and asked you both if you would like to see the menu. You looked over at the options and a small smile was pulled from your lips. Once Bruce had picked a Caprese sandwich, you asked for a Pesto Chicken one, and a lemonade. The waitress smiled at you both (well, she smiled at Bruce), grabbed your menus (making it a show of bending over to show off her cleavage) and walked away.

Bruce, however, didn’t seem to notice, seeing as his eyes were on you.

“Is everything okay?”

You looked away, before meeting his gaze. And you smiled. It was gentle, and soft, and fake. Bruce knew, because he plastered on the same smile whenever he had to attend galas full of people whose only interest were his last name and his bank account.

“Yeah! I’m just tired, I think. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

Bruce’s gaze landed on your figure. You were leaning on your right arm, staring absentmindedly at the counter. You were wearing a pretty denim jacket, and a simple purple shirt underneath, as well as a pair of jeans. It wasn’t a very flashy outfit, and yet he thought you looked gorgeous.

“Aren’t you going to take that off?” he asked, nodding towards the jacket you were wearing.

“Hm?” You turned to him and blinked repeatedly. “Oh – no. No need, I’m kind of chilly. How have you been?”

Rather good at deflecting attention, you were. He decided to play along for the time being.

“I’ve been good. Work has been hectic, but what else could you expect when you’re running a company,” he sighed. “I’ve been worried about you, though. You’ve been ignoring me for a few days – are you sure you’re doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Work has been hectic as well. The restaurant is going through a few renovations, and we know have more tables to wait. It’s been a hard adjustment, but I’m doing my best.”

“I’m sure you are,” he smiled.

After that, conversation flowed easily, as it usually did between you two. Your sandwiches arrived and you tried each other’s comparing tastes and flavours, trying to prove to each other that your choice was superior. You told him about your new patrons at your job, an old couple who left you extremely big tips and called you “darling” every time you walked by. In return, he told you about this big investor who was interested in a fundraising project to combat poverty in Gotham.

It was as nice as always, and when the bill came, he reached for it without batting an eye.

“Hey – Mr, let me. You can’t just pay for everything.” You chided, reaching out to grab the bill from his hands.

“No, that’s out of the question,” he replied, as casually as asking about the weather. “You don’t have to pay for anything when you’re with me.”

“Bruce,” you whined half-jokingly, still trying to fetch the piece of paper from him. He lifted it over his head, and you huffed, leaning back once again. “You can’t pay for everything every time we’re out.”

“Why not?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I’m allowed to spoil you. Aren’t I?”

The word spoil had you turn your head, heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“I don’t deserve to be spoiled.”

“Sure you do. If anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s you.”

You looked into his eyes for a few moments, unable to form any words. Every time you were with him, you felt your heart warm. You felt like everything was right. It was easy to talk with Bruce. To Bruce. You felt like you could tell him just about anything.

Not anything.

“How about we go for a walk?” Bruce asked. You nodded and moved to get up.

But as you did so, the left sleeve of your jacket got stuck on your table. You pulled away, causing your whole arm to be exposed to him, a large bruise running along it. Your eyes widened and you panicked, forcefully pulling your jacket from the chair, and wrapping it around yourself again.

You heard Bruce call out your name, but you were far too focused on picking up your things and running out of the establishment, Bruce right behind you.

“Hey! Hey! Come black, please! Don’t go!” He wanted to scream, to yell, to reach out to you and hold you tight, but he knew doing any of those things could scare you off. He could lose you forever, and he was not going to let his anger at Nathan cloud his judgement.

You didn’t want to run, though. You crossed the street and stopped right in front of a park bench, tears streaming down your face. Once Bruce caught up with you, he maintained his distance, but remained close enough should you want to come closer. He called your name. Softly. As if it was some sort of prayer, a mantra. It felt nice coming from his lips. He sounded kind. Unlike…

“Who did that to you?” he asked, exasperation in his voice. There was no point dancing around the subject.

“No one. I tripped, and I fell, and I – “

“Please, don’t give me that crap.” His words were harsh, but his voice was soft, and everything was so confusing, all you could do was sit down on the bench in front of you and cry.

“I fell, Bruce. I’m so clumsy, I fell during one of my shifts at the restaurant and that’s all, I promise you.”

Bruce sat down next to you. A few inches, but still, next to you. His mind was running hot with anger. That bastard had done it, he’d actually touched you and hurt you, and Bruce was going to do everything in his power to make sure he never saw the light of the sun again. You raised your head and looked at Bruce. You thought he’d be looking at you with disgust, but there was none in his gaze. Only kindness, only softness.

“It was an accident…” you mumbled, and he had to move closer in order to make out the words you were saying. “It was my fault. I provoked him…”

There it was.

Not his fault. You’d provoked him.

Bruce did his best to school his features. He needed to be calm, he needed to look collected and cool. If he acted out and showed just how angry he was, he might scare you off, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want you to associate him to Nathan, to the monster who’d hurt you.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

“It, it was my fault…” you sobbed. “He came home from work, and he was so tired… He’d had a really rough day, and all he wanted was to come home to a nice warm dinner, but, but… I was so tired, Bruce, I was so tired, so I didn’t cook – not even for myself! And when he came home, he started shouting and telling me I wasn’t good for anything, that he couldn’t even count on me to make him dinner.” You hid your face in your hands and sobbed louder. “So – so I told him to cook his own dinner, and I know I shouldn’t, because he was so tired! And – and he got mad, and… He... he...”

“Can I come any closer?” you furrowed your brows. Why was Bruce asking that? Why was he being so sweet with you? Especially after you’d just told him you were a terrible girlfriend, being as selfish as to not cook for your boyfriend after a tiring day. But the only thing in his eyes was gentleness. And he was being so sweet with you. Did you even deserve such a treatment?

You nodded your head yes, and he slowly moved closer, hand picking up yours.

“You need to report him to the police.”

Your eyes widened, and you began to shake your head while he spoke.

“He hurt you. This is domestic violence, it’s abuse. You need to report him – “

“No. No, no, no – “

“He can’t keep hurting you like this. All the yelling, all the fights, he’s taking advantage of you, and you don’t deserve any of that. Honey, he’s hurting you – “~

“No, no, no, no, no, no – “

“He’s abusing you.”

“He’s not – he loves me, it was an accident – “

“It wasn’t an accident; he’s hurt you before – “

“He hasn’t!” you exclaimed, shaking your head, “He has not hurt me!”

“Not physically, maybe, but he treats you like shit, which also counts as abuse. Listen to me, please,” he moved closer and slowly lifted his hands to cup your face. He did it slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust, react, move away from him, do anything to show your discomfort. You did not, so he held your face in a way that showed just how afraid he was that you would break.

“You deserve better. This scumbag is hurting you. Let me help you.”

You looked into his eyes, and the whole thing felt foreign to you. Being held so gently, being talked to so calmly, being regarded as something close to precious, to dear. Wasn’t this how relationships were supposed to go? Wasn’t Nathan supposed to be just like this?

“I love him…” you whispered, attempting to look away. Bruce did not let you. He kept his gaze focused on you. “I can’t leave him Bruce, I… He was so sorry… You should’ve seen him; he was so broken… He regretted it so much.”

"He looked broken because he's trying to fool you." Bruce let go of your face and held your hands in his, hoping to convey everything he meant just by this touch. "I can't stand and watch as he hurts you like this. Please let me do something. Let me help. I'll get him fired. I'll get him arrested. This can't go on; he can't keep hurting you – "

"I love him!" You sobbed, shaking your head. "I do, and he loves me, and he did not mean it! It was an accident! You can't do anything; you can't take him from me! Please, if you care about me in any way, don't do anything. We'll sort it out. I promise you it won't happen again, honest."

Bruce was torn. Torn between storming out of there and beating that asshole boyfriend of yours into a pulp and staying there comforting you. He wanted to do both so badly. He couldn't just stand aside and do nothing, but he also did not want to lose you forever. He could still do it, of course. Hurt Nathan, the same way he'd hurt you. But then he was most definitely sure he'd lose you forever. And would that be worth it? It would. He'd lose you, but you'd be safe. And wasn't that what mattered the most in the end?

"Please, Bruce... Trust me..." You whispered, looking deep into his eyes, trying to find some sort of sign in there that would show you he was still on your side, by your side. Your friends were against you, so was your family. Nathan was right. They were all terrible, they hated you and did not want you to be happy.

With all those people gone, you needed to know you still had Bruce. That despite everyone leaving, he was still yours.

He's not yours though, a little voice said inside your head. You tried to drown it. Who Bruce belongs to is none of your business. And it’s not like he even belongs to someone, he is his own person. Not some property to be handed around carelessly.

You’d never handle him carelessly though. You’d love him. And he’d love you, the way you’re meant to be loved. No. This was wrong. You were not supposed to have these thoughts. You had Nathan. And you loved him.

Did you, though? What had Nathan done for you as of late? Hit you and berate you and fight you and yell at you. Was that even how relationships went?

Sure. That's how passionate relationships went. And you knew Nathan was passionate about you. That’s why he got angry so often, because your love drove him nuts. Loving you drove him nuts. He adored you so much, you made him lose rationality. And wasn't that romantic?

Bruises aren't romantic. Taking care of someone is romantic. Holding them while they cry. Cheering them up with ice-cream and Monopoly, and surprising them at work. What a wonderful boyfriend Bruce would be.

No. Stop it. Those thoughts are wrong.

You looked at Bruce, standing in front of you, regarding you with so much care and worry. How you wished you could just melt in his arms forever. Sometimes you liked to relive how nice it felt to rest in his hold. How natural. You wished you could hug him again and never let go.

It was frightening, really, the way your feelings for Bruce were growing. He’d been just a friend at first, someone you could trust, someone you could spend time with and have fun. But now, he was so much more than that, and you feared the lines between friendship, and something more had begun to blur.

“I’d treat you so much better,” he suddenly blurted, drawing circles on your hand with his thumbs. “You deserve better than him. Please let me do better. Let me show you how you deserve to be loved.”

Tears found their ways to your eyes, and you shook your head, slowly.

You couldn't. No, you couldn't, possibly.

“I’m sorry…” you started, trying to choke back a sob.

“Please. You deserve to be treated with respect. With kindness, with love. Nathan isn't doing any of these things, he’s disrespecting you by laying his hands on you and hurting you all the time.” His face was mere inches away from yours now. Why was he so close? You could smell his cologne, see every speck of light in his eyes, listen to the breath he let out as his lips parted.

It wouldn't hurt to get closer. His lips must taste nice.

It would be wrong. So wrong.

You like him, don't you? And he treats you nice and likes you so much.

You love Nathan. You’d been with him for years now and loved him. He was good for you. He loved you, he provided for you. He paid most of the rent every month and 1bought most of the groceries. Your salary as a waitress could not compare to his, the one of a prestigious doctor. You couldn't leave him. It would ruin you.

Bruce has way more money than him. He would help you get back on your feet.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, getting away from him. This was wrong. Extremely wrong. You were dating Nathan. And that was the end of it.

“I'm sorry, Bruce,” you said, sounding more confident than you felt. “I'm in love with Nathan. Please trust me on this. I know what I'm doing.”

“I can’t just stand by and watch as he hurts you.” Bruce's voice held something to it you couldn't quite place. It felt like sorrow, like grief. You hated it. It made your stomach churn.

“He won’t hurt me anymore! He loves me!”

“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you're trying to?”

The question took you by surprise.

“I…” you stuttered, shaking your hand. “I… I believe it.”

Did you?

“If you care about me Bruce, please let me be. My relationship is none of your concern.”

“What? Please – “

“Please mind your business, Bruce.” You mumbled, pulling your jacket tighter around you, and sighing. “Thank you for the sandwich. I’ll see you around.”

You spun on your heel and walked away, leaving behind a very broken-hearted Bruce Wayne.

You were constantly on Bruce’s mind. You plagued his thoughts 24/7 – your face, your eyes, your smile, your laugh. Again and again, from the moment he woke up, to the second he closed his eyes and fell asleep. You haunted his dreams too. Cried, lovely face covered in black and purple bruises, blood dripping down your mouth. These nightmares usually ended with a blood-curdling scream from you, and Bruce waking up in cold sweats.

It wasn't pleasant. Not at all.

And the worst part was, he had no idea what to do.

“If I report him, he might hurt her even further.”

“Yes, but that was when you had no evidence. You’ve told me she told you he hit her, things are different now, she confessed he was acting abusive towards her.” Alfred said, preparing a cup of tea. Bruce had foregone coffee for a while. Ever since you made it so difficult for him to sleep, Alfred had been trying different methods of getting his boss to sleep.

“Maybe I should have a little run-in with him. Or rather, the Batman should.” Bruce muttered, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“And what good would that make, Master Wayne?”

“I’d tell him to stay away from her. Shake him up a bit. Beat him up. Teach him a lesson.”

“I thought this wasn't about revenge,” the old butler settled a cup of tea in front of Bruce and sat next to him with a sigh. “Master Wayne, may I speak freely?”

“Of course.”

“Gotham has just begun to see Batman as a symbol of hope. You don't want to scare its people by beating up a doctor. Granted, he’s a despicable man who dares hit his partner, but a doctor, nonetheless. It would be foolish to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to build so far.”

“Then what am I supposed to do, Alfred? How am I supposed to save her if I'm not Batman?”

“That is curious, because I don’t remember hearing the Miss say she liked spending time with the Batman. She did not cling to his arms and cried and told him her darkest secrets. She did not invite him for lunches and afternoon snacks and walks because she liked his company.” He mused. “She did all of that with Bruce Wayne. Perhaps you don't need a mask this time, Master Wayne. Perhaps, this time, being you is enough.”

Bruce thought the words over in his head. Alfred was right – something that happened abnormally often. You had never needed him as Batman. Just Bruce was enough.

“There’s also the fact that your family has left you a rather comfortable fortune, and more prestige that you could ever ask for. I’m sure Bruce Wayne would suffice.”

Bruce chuckled humourlessly, sipping from his cup of tea.

“She won’t open up to me, though. I mean, she will. She told me he was hurting her, that he’d pushed her. But she refused to let me help and said that I couldn't tell a soul. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?”

Alfred hummed.

“Perhaps you should invite her over again. Tell her you would like to talk. Or, you know, go to the police like a regular person and end the nightmare she is undoubtedly living.”

“I’ve done some research, Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Dr. Nathan Smith is well liked in his community. Volunteers, donates to charity, the whole ordeal. If she tells the police, it was an accident and she fell, they’re likely to believe her. We need something more concrete.”

Alfred hummed once more. He could see where Bruce was coming from. On one hand, it was endearing. He’d never cared so much about someone and was clearly smitten by you. On the other, he was afraid the man would make a move far too late.

“And your plan, Master Wayne, is?”

Bruce dropped his head on the kitchen table. The white marble felt cold against his skin, and he relished in the comfort it provided.

“I don’t know, Alfred. I don’t know.”

“I thought I told you to stop hanging out with her?”

Bruce would recognise that voice anywhere.

As soon as it reached his ears, his fists clenched involuntarily. It seemed to him it was second nature to be angry around that piece of shit.

“Nate, she’s my oldest friend… I miss her terribly; it’s been ages since we've hung out.”

You were walking a few steps ahead of him, arm linked with Nathan’s. Well, rather, Nathan was gripping your arm, and you were simply being pulled along. Harshly.

“Ah, I see. So you’d rather hang out with her than me.” Nathan scoffed and shook his head, and you turned to face him. Bruce could see the heartbreak in your eyes.

“No! That’s not true!”

“She hates me. She doesn’t think we’re good together and wants to break us apart. And you want to hang out with her. Just tell me you want to break up and leave me the fuck alone!”

Nathan shoved you away from him, before shaking his head and walking faster down the road. Your teared up and ran after him. “Nate!” you yelled. “Nate! Please!” Once you reached him, you held onto his hands tightly, trying to get him to stop. He did not. “Please, Nate, I’m sorry! I won’t bring her up again, I promise!”

Nathan kept walking, not even sparing you a glance.

“I promise Nate, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, please, forgive me!”

No one seemed to give two damns about the two of you. After all, people were selfish and did not care enough about the world around them. Only Bruce’s gaze was on you.

Nathan finally stopped, and sighed, looking at the floor.

“If you want to be her friend, and don’t love me anymore, I get it. That’s okay. You can move out, get your stuff – “

“No! No, I don’t want to be her friend, Nate, I don’t,” you pleaded, holding both his hands and shaking your head vigorously. Bruce felt like a creep, staring at you like that, staring into your private life like that, but what else could he do? “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. I promise. I love you. Okay?” You placed yourself on the tip of your toes to reach his face and kissed his lips gently. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please, I love you, please forgive me…”

Bruce swore he could see the glint of victory in Nathan’s eyes, and it made his insides churn.

“You promise?”

“I do! I promise! I love you so much, Nate, I won’t talk about her ever again. I love you and only you. You’re the love of my life!” You reached up to kiss him again, and Nathan responded, albeit unexcitedly. It was enough for you though, and you linked your hand with his. “I love you, Nate. So much. You’re the only person I need.”

The blonde man hummed, and you pulled him along. You tried your best to keep him close to you, but he wasn’t responding. That’s when Bruce decided he needed to intervene.

It was only when Bruce said your name a second time, louder, that you turned around, eyes widening with surprise.

“Bruce!” He could tell you weren’t expecting to see him here. He could also tell you were scared. Not of him, of course, but of the man at your side, by the way your whole body tensed, and your eyes drifted from him to Bruce.

“Ah. Bruce.” Nathan spit, looking at him with a fake expression of politeness. Bruce could tell his smile wasn’t real and noticed how his hold tightened on you. “What a coincidence. Have you perhaps been following us?” He laughed dryly. It was a poor attempt at a joke, and an even poorer attempt of figuring out if you’d listened to his whole conversation with you.

“Ah, no. I was just on my way home.”

“What were you up to?” you asked, voice relaxed as it often was when you were around him.

“Well, I'm celebrating the establishment of a new children's school in my family's name. It's a very important cause, and I’m throwing a party later this week. Alfred and I were shopping together.” Bruce replied.

“You? Shopping?” There was a happy tilt to your voice. Bruce only wished you would always sound like that.

“Well, I wasn’t alone. Baby steps.” He chuckled.

“And who is this Alfred?” Nathan interjected. “Some servant of yours?”

Bruce frowned. He did not like the way your boyfriend referred to the man who was the closest thing he had to a family. Still, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anger.

“Alfred is my butler. He has been with my family for many years, and I consider him part of it. He is not a servant, and it shocks me that someone surely so well-read as you would refer to someone with such a degrading term.” Bruce raised his eyebrow, and he could swear he saw Nathan shrink a bit. It made you smile. It made Bruce feel good.

“My apologies, Bruce.” Nathan responded, offering a tight-lipped smile. He did not like losing, and that’s all he felt himself doing when he was around Bruce Wayne. Losing his temper, losing his control, losing his upper hand. It was something he detested greatly. He needed to get away from there. And quick.

“Honey, we need to go. Don’t want to steal too much of Bruce’s time, do we?”

“It’s not a problem, really,” Bruce retorted, ignoring your boyfriend, and turning to you instead. That’s when he noticed what you were wearing. Another jacket – a big one, oversized, a turtleneck and a pair of jeans. Gone were your shorts and flowy tops, you were now covered from head to toe. Why? To conceal what, exactly? And now that he got a good look at your face, was the hell was going on with your lip? It seemed split. “There’s nothing else in my list. Say, do you have any plans for next Friday? I would love if you two stopped by. It’s for a good cause, and perhaps you’ll have fun?”

He had to get you there. He had to get you alone with him, safe, away from Nathan.

“A party? At Wayne Manor?” Nathan asked.

“Yes. Will you be there?”

You looked up at your boyfriend, hope in your eyes.

Nathan noticed your excitement and blew air through his nose – the closest you’d get to a chuckle.

“Of course. We would love to go.”

“Really?” You beamed. That was not the answer you were expecting from him. Nathan hated Bruce – you knew this. Did this mean he was trying? Trying to befriend your friends? For your sake?

“Of course.” Nathan bent down to kiss your forehead, earning a genuine smile from you. “If you’d like to.”

“I would!”

It was small, the notion of a happy relationship, the notion that you were happy. But Bruce saw right through it. None of it was real. He was just playing a part.

“We should get going. It was nice seeing you, Bruce.”

“Oh – okay!” you yelped when Nathan turned you around and pulled you along with him. “It was nice seeing you, Bruce! I’ll see you Friday!”

And just like that, you were gone.

But Bruce wasn’t one to give up. Something felt off. Something smelled fishy. Nathan had been too kind, too nice, too allowing. Was it all a façade? He knew Nathan would never allow you to go to a party, especially one hosted by him. Something was definitely up. His feet moved, and before he could realise it, he was following the two figures in front of him to a dark alley. He heard voices and walked deeper.

That’s how he found you, pressed up against the wall, Nathan’s hand cruelly pressed against the hollow of your throat.

“Why the fuck are you still talking to him?” Nathan grumbled, tightening the hold he had on your throat. His knuckles turned white. “Huh!? You say you love me and then go around and fuck that rich motherfucker? Is that it, yeah?”

“N-No!” you sobbed, struggling to breath. Tears streamed down your face, hands clutching his. “Nate, please. You’re hurting me.” Your words were interrupted by coughs, and just before your vision could go completely black, you saw Nathan get dragged around and thrown on the floor. As soon as your vision (and your air) returned, you saw Bruce do to Nathan what he’d done to you.

“How dare you lay your disgusting hands on her,” he bellowed, and you somehow recognised that voice. It felt familiar. Bruce turned to you, and shook his head, arm still against Nathan’s neck. “Are you okay?” You nodded silently, wiping your tears, and taking a few steps back.

Bruce was surprised no one else had interrupted the two of you, but then again, this was Gotham. It didn’t matter if Batman was ridding crime for good, people would still look the other way, far too accustomed to violence to even bother.

“Are you seriously going to let him do this?” Nathan scowled, fighting against Bruce’s iron grip – it was no use. Somehow, this rich dumb playboy was stronger than he looked.

“I… I…” You looked in between the two men, still wiping your tears away. Part of you wanted Bruce to teach him a lesson. The other wanted him to let go of your boyfriend.

“Fuck – do something! Are you going to let this brute hurt me like this!?”

“Keep your filthy mouth shut,” Bruce whispered, before turning to face you completely. “What do you want me to do?”

This surprised you. You had a choice? You could decide?

“If you want to, I’ll beat him to a pulp myself. We’ll take him to the police. I’ll protect you. I promise I will. I can take care of you. You will never have to look him in the eye again.” Bruce’s eyes were filled with longing, and you found yourself walking towards him.

Wouldn’t that be nice? Nathan could go to jail. He’d leave you alone forever. No more fighting, no more hitting you, no more hurting you. You’d be free.

“Tell him to let go!” Now, Nathan’s face was turning a nasty shade of purple, and his lovely blue eyes were wide with fear. “Tell him! Are you going to let him do this to me? I love you!”

Bruce said your name softly. “Don’t listen to him. He’s done nothing but lie to you over and over again. You can end this nightmare right now.”

“Please! I’ll be better! I promise” Nathan coughed, the lack of air getting to him. “I was just jealous! You know me, I – I get like this! I thought you were going to leave me for him! I can’t compete with Bruce Wayne.”

“Shut up.” Bruce shook his head. “All you’ve been doing is hurting her. Abusing her. Do you seriously think I’m letting you go unscathed?”

It was scary, to be honest, seeing Bruce like this. You’d never seen him this angry, and he somehow reminded you of Nathan. Granted, the anger wasn’t directed towards you, but it still made you feel uneasy and unsafe, and all you wanted him was to go back to the sweet and kind Bruce who stole spoonfulls of your ice-cream and cheated at Monopoly when you weren’t looking.

“Bruce?” you whispered, frozen in place.

“Yeah?”

“Let go.”

“What?”

“Please let go.”

He looked at you and noticed the fear in your eyes. Something inside him broke and he wanted to punish himself for making you feel like that. Were you afraid of him? His hold on Nathan’s neck loosened, and the latter took this as an opportunity to get away and walk towards you. Nathan embraced you tightly, burrowing his face in your hair and crying loudly.

“I’m so sorry… I hate myself for the way I’ve been treating you… You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness… I’m just a mess who seems to ruin everything… Please forgive me for being so possessive, I just – I just never feel like I’m worthy of you.” Nathan’s lies spilled from his lips, and the very same lips found their way to yours, kissing you softly as he held your face in his hands.

You seemed unresponsive, though, eyes fixed on Bruce. Was this how he always behaved? Had you simply not seen it before? Would he act this way towards you?

“I’m sorry…” his voice somehow got through to you. “I just… I couldn’t just stand by and watch as he hurt you…”

It was true, you gathered. He’d said it before. He’d always put himself between you and Nathan whenever you two fought. He’d never allowed Nathan to mistreat you in front of him, always protecting you – or trying to – no matter what.

Still, it had been horrifying to see those eyes who regarded you with such kindness, look at someone else with nothing but rage. To hear that lovely voice that always cheered you up sound so hateful. It wasn’t your Bruce. It simply wasn’t.

Your arms wrapped themselves around Nathan’s torso, almost as if mechanically. You had to do it. It’s what you did. Nathan yelled and fought and hurt. And then he’d apologize and take you back. It made you feel sick and nauseous and empty inside. But you knew no one else you love you like he did. No one would love you as passionately as Nathan did. And you didn’t want to be all alone.

“Let’s go home, okay, baby?” he asked, one hand caressing your cheek, the other rubbing circles on your hip affectionately. “We can cuddle and watch a movie. Anything you like. How does that sound?”

“Don’t,” Bruce pleaded, eyebrows furrowing. Were you seriously still going home with him? After all that had happened?

You did not break eye contact. You knew you shouldn’t go back home with Nate. At least a part of you did. A part of you knew this was wrong. Knew that you deserved better, knew that Nate was abusive and did not deserve you. But that part had long been defeated, and all that was left were small voices in your head that yelled “No one else is going to love you like this” repeatedly.

And you always let them win.

“Let’s go,” you mumbled.

Nathan wrapped his arm around your waist, kissed your forehead, and Bruce watched as you two left the alley.

You did not text him anymore.

And on Friday, none of you appeared at the Manor for the party.

It was close to 2 in the morning when Bruce was stirred awake by the sounds of knocking on his front door.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from exploring a few new gadgets and functions Lucius had implemented on his suit. Patrol had been rough on him, the new holographic projection system taking a while to get used to, but well worth it in the end. It would spare him a handful of bruises and stress.

Alfred had retired for the night long ago, so it was just Bruce, a copy of a book you’d mentioned in passing once and he decided to read, and a fire cackling in the fireplace.

He got up, groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and made his way towards the door. Far too tired to be careful (really, who the hell would be knocking at his door at 2 in the morning? And it’s not like he could blink the sleep away in a matter of seconds. He had enough training for that) Bruce opened the door, coming face to face with a hunched figure.

“This better be good for you to be knocking on my god damned door at 2 in the morning –“

That’s when the figure in front of him shifted. It was no longer a mere figure. It was you.

You were hunched over, looking down, head covering your whole face, and Bruce could make out faint sobbing. He called your name once, twice, three times, softly. All you could do was shake your head. hands tightly clutched in front of you.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

Bruce stepped aside so you could walk in. He would not touch you without your permission, without not knowing what had happened. You stepped inside, shaking all over. The clothes on your body were comprised of a flimsy pyjama set, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of pants. Your feet were bare save for the fluffy bunny slippers on them. You looked cold – had you left in a hurry?

“Hey, can we sit on the couch?” Bruce asked, fluffing up some pillows. You nodded and followed him, sitting down, head still hung low. Would you even look at him?

“Do you want something to drink?” He kneeled next to you but did not try to look into your eyes. He wanted to be on the same level as you, make you feel safe, but also give you the space and freedom to move away from him should you want that. He’d never want to smother you. You nodded your head softly, and Bruce was quick to move to the kitchen. He knew your favourite by heart, and within a few minutes, had it prepared and on top of the coffee table in front of you. “There it is,” he mumbled, sitting back again. He'd wait for you to take the first step.

And when you did, all the air left his lungs.

You looked up, hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, silent tears streaming down your face. Most of the lights were off, the fire being the only thing illuminating your features. Your delicate lips, your nose, your beautiful eyes, and the black and purple bruise surrounding one of them. The look Bruce gave you, whatever it was, just made you sob uncontrollably once again. He didn’t know if whether to touch you, come closer or back off, but you answered that question yourself when you wrapped your arms around him, sobbing loudly.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed, holding onto him tightly. Bruce reciprocated the hug, spreading his legs so you could move comfortably in between them. He adjusted you in his lap and kissed your forehead, just holding you tightly.

“No, none of that,” he shushed you, rocking both your bodies back and forth. “You don’t have to apologize. Never.”

“It wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t Bruce, you have to believe me…”

“I do. I believe you. It’s not your fault.”

He wanted to know what the hell that jerk had done to you. But he knew he couldn’t – you might close yourself off even more and refuse to talk if he pressed further.

So, he made sure you were comfortable. Bruce picked you up and moved to the couch, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, and pulling you closer. You took the hint immediately, snuggling up as close as possible to him, face pressed against his neck. You were hiding from him, but it felt nice to be in his arms.

The two of you stayed like that for a while. Bruce turned on the TV and allowed you to pick a channel (“Mhm” for yes and “Hm-hm” for no) until you were watching some silly rom-com that got you chuckling occasionally. Bruce was stroking your arms gently, bending down to press kisses against your forehead whenever he felt you might need them. He wasn’t paying any attention to the movie in front of him, instead coming up with a plan to throw that idiot in jail.

After you’d finished your drink, you gathered the courage to shift in his lap and completely face him. The bruise covering your eye was on full display, and Bruce could now make out the dried blood on your lip.

“He… he hurt me, Bruce…” you mumbled, reaching for his hand. Bruce squeezed yours tightly, a silent reminder that he was there and listening, and that you weren’t alone. “I’m so scared… He pushed me and kept hitting me, and I was begging him to stop but he wouldn’t… I didn’t know what else to do, so I just waited for him to fall asleep and ran… I had to – I had to wait. He wanted to sleep next to me. He kept apologizing and promising he’d be better, so I told him it was okay, and I went to bed with him…” Bruce wiped away your tears, nodding along. Outside, he was the picture of compassion and sympathy. Inside, a fire was burning, and he had to control every bone in his body not to get into his car and drive to your (hopefully ex by now) boyfriend’s house.

“You’re so brave,” he muttered, running his hand through your hair to soothe you. “I can’t believe how hard that must’ve been. But you’re so brave, and I’m so proud of you.”

“I thought he could change,” you started to sob, shaking your head. “He – he said he would. He said that he loved me a lot and he’d only hit me because he was jealous and afraid I would leave him. All because I told him I regretted not going to your party that Friday… I’m so sorry, Bruce.”

“No apologies needed. You’re not the one to blame here, okay? It’s him, and him alone.” His hands reached up to wipe your tears, and you flinched, the pressure of his fingers on your bruise sending painful memories through your head. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Let’s take care of this, shall we?”

And he did.

Bruce took you to the master bathroom and sat you on top of the counter while he fetched his first-aid kit and a few ointments and creams. Your hands never left him as he worked – on his shirt, on his shoulders, on his hands. He cleaned the bruise with some water and pressed an ice pack against it to reduce the swelling. He told you a few anecdotes that had happened at Wayne Enterprises – angry costumers who tried to scam him, spilled coffees, and other amusing situations – to keep you grounded. His voice was like a lifeline to you.

After the swelling was taken care of, he softly applied ointment around your eye, being careful as to not put too much pressure on the pads of his fingers. He smeared some of it on the tip of your nose, earning a smile from you, before moving on to your lip and taking care of it too. Once all was done, he took a step back.

“Don’t look at me like that…” you mumbled, looking away.

“How?”

“Like that. Like I’m pitiable.”

“Hm.” Bruce tilted his head, pretending to think your statement over, “No. Not pitiable – that’s not who I’m looking at.”

You met his gaze again.

“I’m looking at the bravest woman I have probably ever known.” He crouched in front of you to stay at your eye level. Your hands did not leave his. “I’m looking at a remarkable woman, one with a big heart and a courageous spirit. You’ve endured all of this, and you’re still standing.”

“I’m a coward, Bruce,” you shook your head. “I let him to this to me. I let him break me. He’s right – who would ever love me after him? Who will ever love me like him? Maybe this was a mistake – I shouldn’t have left me. He’s the only one who will love me as I am.”

Bruce was quick to refute you.

“He’s wrong. I hope you know just how wrong he is. Nathan has spent all this time hurting you, lying to you.”

“He hasn’t – I’m broken, I’m damaged goods – who will ever want me?”

“You’re not damaged goods. You hear me? You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re so kind and brave. What you endured is beyond me, and I know I will never understand it, but please believe me when I say that you’re not broken. You’re not damaged. And Nathan is not right. He’s lied to you.”

You looked at him and searched his eyes for any sign of falsehood, of deceit. All you found was kindness. And a warmer emotion you couldn’t pinpoint yet but wanted to figure out.

“You light up even the darkest of days,” Bruce mumbled, moving closer to you. His hand moved to cup your face and you instinctively pressed against it. You’d never felt safer than whenever you were in Bruce’s arms. “And I will do everything in my power to protect you. To keep you safe. The truth is…” He looked at the floor for a few seconds, before meeting your eyes again. “I love you.” You sucked in a breath. “I have, for a while. And I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, nor what you need to hear. And I’m not saying this to force you to be with me, especially after I took care of you. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t expect compensation. I don’t. I’m just saying this because – because I want you to know Nathan is wrong. You’re not damaged goods. And I love you. So much. Ever since I met you, my life has been happier, brighter. For years I’ve had a hole inside of me. Something empty, something that would eat me up from the inside. But then you came along. And you filled that void. And Nathan is so, so wrong, because how could someone not love you? How could someone not love you? How could he try and make you believe you’re not worthy of love, when that’s all you deserve?”

Tears were now streaming down both of your faces. Bruce had never been this vulnerable before, and to his surprise, it didn’t hurt nor scare him. It felt right, to trust you like this, to open up.

“You don’t need to say it back. Please don’t feel forced to say it back. I just wanted you to know that you’re worthy of love, and that I’ll be here to help you. Always. Even if all you feel towards me is friendship. I’ll protect you forever, I promise. He will never touch you again. No one will.”

When you did not reply, Bruce’s stomach fell. Had he screwed up? Had this been a terrible occasion to let you know of his feelings? It wasn’t ideal, no, but he had to tell you. Fuck. He had screwed up, didn’t he? And now he would lose you forever –

You interrupted his thoughts, hands on his jaw, pulling him closer. You blinked slowly – once, twice.

“I love you too,” you whispered, afraid that should you say it any louder, the fantasy might break. “I think I have for a while too. But I was so scared, Bruce… I have nothing to offer – I work a shitty job, and Nathan was paying for everything. My bills, my groceries, my clothes. I was so afraid of leaving. And then whenever I was with you, all I felt… Was happiness.” You chuckled through the tears. “You made me feel so happy, Bruce. And so safe. I always feel safe with you. But I was so scared… I’m so sorry…”

“No – shh. You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” Bruce shook his head, turning to place a kiss on your palm. “You’re so brave. Have I said this already? You’re so brave. I’m so sorry for everything you had to endure. I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything earlier. Shit, I’m an idiot. I should’ve reported him to the police as soon as I realised he was hurting you, but I was too scared he’d turn their heads and you’d get the short end of the stick.”

You smiled, something warm blooming in your chest. Bruce really did care for you, didn’t he?

“My plan was to report him, but I didn’t know if you’d lie to the police in order to cover everything up. I was afraid you would, and he would hurt you further. I’m sorry.”

You repeated his words back to him.

“You don’t have to be sorry. You always stood up for me whenever Nathan was around. You never let him talk to me the way he did whenever you were there. I just wish I hadn’t been so blind… I wish I’d trusted you the first time you told me he was no good… It’s just – we’d been together for so long, and I was so afraid to leave him. Nathan was all I knew. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to be unloved.”

“You’re not.” Bruce shook his head again. “Not unloved. I love you. You’re worthy of love, and happiness, and kindness, and good things.”

You nodded at him, a single tear running down your cheek. This one, however, was a tear of happiness. Your eyes flickered to his lips, and Bruce whispered.

“Can I kiss you?”

You chuckled.

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Is this funny?” he asked with a smile.

“You’re always asking for my permission. If you can touch me, if you can hold me.”

“I would never do anything you were uncomfortable with. Anything you didn’t want.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Please kiss me,” you mumbled, and no other words were needed, as Bruce closed the space between the two of you and kissed you on the lips.

It was the softest kiss you’d ever had in your entire life. There was no roughness, no edge, no anger, or rage – all the things Nathan kissed you with. Bruce, however, kissed you with love. His lips moved in tandem with yours, brushing and caressing and telling a story of tenderness and warmth. It felt nice. It felt perfect. It felt like you had been made to kiss him. You pulled him up by his shirt, and he did so, placing his hands on either side of the marble to trap you. Your legs spread instinctively to accommodate him, and his hands brushed against your cheeks and hair, fingers shyly exploring, afraid to break the moment he’d been waiting for for so long. It was only a shame it had to be in these circumstances.

When breathing became more important than kissing, you pulled away and Bruce pulled you against his chest. You breathed him in, the smell of cologne and bodywash and something so inherently Bruce calming you down almost instantly.

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered, gripping his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you alive right now. And maybe it was. You needed him.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” he whispered back, kissing your forehead. “And I’ll fix this. We will fix this.”

“What if he comes after me? He’s a very respected doctor, Bruce, I – I don’t want him to hurt you or anything.”

This caused Bruce to chuckle and pull you back to look at your face. Even with a terrible bruise covering your features, you were the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Your courage and kindness only added to that charm. What a lucky guy he was.

“I don’t usually brag about my status, but I happen to be Bruce Wayne. I’ll take care of him. I promise. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

You smiled. Bruce loved your smile.

“Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked, caressing the side of your cheek that wasn’t bruised. “I can sleep in one of the guest rooms. My bed is quite comfortable, you can stay there. Unless you want to stay somewhere else? I won’t force you to stay here.”

You shook your head.

“Here is fine. Although…”

“Yes? I’ll do anything.”

A blush crept up on your features.

“I… I don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t.”

Bruce nodded.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“Please.”

Bruce gave you a soft look, a quiet question, asking for your permission. You answered it by lifting your arms and allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, and you sighed at how comfortable it was. He smiled. You looked content as you adjusted, getting under the covers.

“Are you going to join me or just stare at me like that?”

“I’m just happy you’re here. Safe, with me,” he said. “I’m sorry the circumstances were… not the best.”

“I’m here now, though, aren’t I? And so are you.”

“I am. I’m not going anywhere.”

Bruce moved and laid down next to you, pulling the covers over himself. “Can I?” he asked. You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around you, bringing you close to his chest. Your bodies fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had come together at last. You entwined your legs with his and rested your head on his chest while his arms snaked around you, protecting you even in your sleep. The beat of his heart soothed you and lulled you to slumber in an instant.

Before you lost conscience, you felt Bruce’s lips move against your head, and made out a soft “I love you”.

It was the best you’d ever slept.

It was hard adjusting to live after that, but Bruce was there for you every step of the way.

You finally filed a report against Nathan. It was tough, and you cried and doubted yourself when you gave your statement, but with Bruce by your side, you felt like you could do it. He reminded you of how brave you really were, and how much you could accomplish – with him or without him. But you liked his company anyway.

Thanks to Bruce’s resources, an investigation was conducted. You’d kept records of nearly every time the two of you fought in your diary, and even photographed every bruise he’d given you. He did not know of this, of course. You did it whenever he was asleep, a small voice in your head telling you it’d be useful to bring him down.

Apparently that little voice had been right, and your pictures were essential for the investigation.

Your friends testified in your favour, and you had cried when they’d hugged you after, congratulating you on your bravery, and lamenting what you’d gone through. You’d missed them so much.

All seemed like it was going in the right direction.

Your old apartment had been cleared, and although you’d gotten a place of your own (Bruce told you he did not want you to feel like you had to move in with him simply because he was helping you out and you two were in the beginning of a relationship), you found yourself spending more time at Bruce’s manor than your own house, and you quickly sold it in order to move in with him.

Everything was going perfectly.

You felt happy – more than ever – going about your daily job, meeting with friends for coffee and lunch and walks on the park without being berated or yelled at. Bruce supported you on every endeavour you went on, encouraging you to spend time with your friends and go out with them, instead of keeping you home all to himself like Nathan did.

In fact, Bruce was the perfect boyfriend. He’d bring you breakfast in bed sometimes, offer you rides to your job, bring you flowers when he could tell you’d had a hard day, and even when he had to cancel date nights or other plans you two had made because of some last minute emergency at Wayne Enterprises, he made it up to you later, with lots of love and reassurance, perhaps a bouquet of flowers and a ticket to whatever event you’d been interested in.

Bruce reminded you of what love felt like. True love. He never raised his voice at you, opting to voice out his concerns in a calming manner. He never made you feel like you weren’t worthy of him – quite the contrary. Every single day, he thanked you for choosing him, letting you know just how lucky he was to have you in his life.

Alfred liked you too – very much. He adopted you as his family rather quickly, teaching you how to make your favourite drinks (even better than you used to do them), and spending time with you whenever Bruce wasn’t home, and you felt particularly lonely. He liked having you around. In his opinion, “Master Wayne was in need of a woman’s touch in his house and his life”. You couldn’t agree more and loved him immensely.

There was only one time you crossed paths with Nathan after you’d left him that night.

The Gotham Police had gathered enough information and evidence to build a case against him, and you’d been called to testify. You weren’t sure you wanted to do it – you were still scared of whatever he could do to you.

That day, Bruce sat you down on his lap, kissed your forehead and promised Nathan wouldn’t even be able to touch you, and that he and your friends would be there.

It was all the reassurance you needed, and although you choked back a sob once or twice once your gaze met his, your testimony was clear and strong, and it was enough for the trial to be wrapped up in around two days (and perhaps Bruce had pulled a few strings to get it over it so quickly, but you didn’t need to know that, now did you?)

As he was being handcuffed, Nathan turned to you, face twisted in agony.

“Babe – “ he yelled, doing his best to free himself from the police officers’ grips. “I’m so sorry – tell them this is just a misunderstanding! Tell them! I love you so much, fuck, don’t let them do this to me!”

When it was obvious you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“You slut! You stupid bitch! I bet you’re fucking him, aren’t you? You’re fucking the rich bastard, aren’t you? I knew it! You’re a slut – you’re disgusting! No one will ever love you as I loved you, you’re a slut now, and you’ll be a slut fore – “

Bruce’s fist collided with Nathan’s face, promptly shutting him the fuck up. He adjusted his cuffs and his blazer and offered you a doe-eyed look.

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Officers, I’ll be sure to guarantee you all a very nice Christmas bonus if you keep this little incident in between us.”

The excited nods from the officers around him were enough of an answer for him to walk away unscathed. That, and your giggles.

“Couldn’t stand hearing him go on and on about you like that,” he’d muttered to you lately as you cuddled up together on the couch and watched a movie.

That was the last you saw and heard of Nathan. You’d heard Bruce tell Alfred that he was going to be locked up for eternity one day, and while it was suspicious (surely it wouldn’t warrant him a life sentence, would it?), the thought of Bruce using his influence to put your abusive ex-boyfriend behind bars forever made you smile.

Right now, you were sitting on top of a plaid picnic blanket in the gardens of Wayne Manor. On your right hand was a book, on your left hand the chocolate brown curls of your boyfriend, whose head was resting on top of your lap.

You had never felt so at peace with yourself.

Your physical scars had faded, bruises had healed, leaving your soft skin as it once was, but you were sure the emotional ones would remain. Luckily, you had the best boyfriend in the world to aid you in every step of the way.

His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, eyes closed. This was one of his favourite things to do – lay on your lap after a hard week and relax under the sun. It was one of your favourites as well. You got to spend time with the person you loved the most and remind yourself that even though your life was so dark once, it could get better. It was getting better.

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”

“Not so bad?”

“Fine. You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen in my entire life.”

“Hmm. That’s a lot of responsibility.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I think you’ll manage.”

Bruce chuckled and lifted his head up ever so slightly. You rolled your eyes with a smile. How needy. Bending down, you met him halfway, kissing him tenderly. His tongue swept over your lower lip, and you sighed contentedly before he pulled away and closed his eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Bruce. So much.”

Yes.

Everything was going to be better.

A/N: And that's it! Oh my god what a rollercoaster hahaha! I hope you guys enjoyed this! I understand all abusive relationships are different - a lot of this came from my own experience.

I also hope the ending, the little epilogue wasn't too rushed! I wanted it to be a nice conclusion, not dwelling too much on the past, but rather focusing on the hope of the future.

Alright, this is all! I think I'll take a break from Bruce fics for a while, hahaha. Once again, I really do hope you all enjoyed this.

Have a wonderful day ahead! <3

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

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aryxchse · 2 months

Note

Ary I know you're sick of me but like I literally love you and we're on the same wavelength so I have to tell you what my brain is cooking

Maybe NSFW headcanons with our sexy water boy🤭

If u need anymore ideas involving these headcanons just tell me girly I got you

(I think very unholy things about this man all the time so I always have ideas)

No pressure at all girly just wanna see ur take on this. Love you bestie🩵

percy jackson nsfw headcanons (aged up)

warnings ; a lot of nsfw stuff ig and reader is implied as female

a / n ; gurl what sickness shut up 🏃🏻‍♀️ literally love u, i dont write smut but im %100 ok w headcanons 🫶🏻 also hope u liked it bcs i didn't, and lmk if ya'll want a part 2

- we all know he's a sarcasm king so he'd be a little shit and tease you or act all cocky when you whine or want more of him

- and will make you speak up like "what was that princess? didn't hear you" such a bitch

- quickie 👏🏻 guy 👏🏻

- ever since he grew up and started to have at least a little more calm life, he dedicated his moments to you and believe me, he's 24/7 horny

- he could do anywhere he wants and the bad thing is you're okay w it because who can say no to him??

- he was so SO respectful on your first time but you gave him the power to be all cocky later

- he hates daddy, sir kink but will call you mommy or ma'am

- praise 👏🏻 guy 👏🏻

- praise him and boom cums right then and there

- also very pussy drunk and will ask you to eat you out with his puppy eyes

- likes to make inside jokes abt your sex life in front of the others but thank gods no one understands

- broke the headboard once because he's totally a headboard gripper

- boob guy

- will squish his face between them or his dick

- doesn't like toys because he's -like i said- cocky and thinks his own guy can do better than any of them (slay king)

- he's the type of guy who treats you like a princess normally but fucks you like you're his enemy in the bedroom

- he likes choking but as a way of holding you, he doesn't actually grip hard and make you go purple (even if you wanted to)

- will use his powers inside you to make you squirt or cum faster

- bites everywhere

- whimpers when you give head

- will moan louder to make you excited, also to make you know that you're doing amazing

- he's a total booktok guy in bed and he grins like a devil like mother taylor said

- he was kind of awkward in earlier of your relationship like when he was 16-17, but he's a total bastard in his 20-26's. because he's used to having you around now and he's all confident so yeah

- i ran out of ideas and i kinda cringed away from my own writing lmao 🏃🏻‍♀️

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson imagine #pjo show #pjo tv show

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shxnigxmi · 6 months

Text

[𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐏!𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒] [ᴍᴀsᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

What I imagine it’s like being married to Soap—

ᴄ/ᴡ: soft relationship hc’s, a few slutty ones, wee bit of smut and nsfw themes, testosterone shots, mentions of dysphoria, written with both in mind cause sergeant soap is such a cutie pie but captain mactavish is so fucking sexy like— sir?? EXCUSE ME SIR!🧍🏽

🔞 MINORS/FEM!ALIGNED DNI 🔞

－

Hubby!Soap who would do anything and everything you asked him to without question or hesitation, literally so eager to please you that he’d commit war crimes if you told him to (obviously you wouldn’t but he’s just that down bad for you) (also he’s already got plenty of war crimes staining his record, don’t put any more on there)

Hubby!Soap who’d do anything for you if you let him abuse your thighs, he’s a thigh man, and he’d burn the world to the ground if it meant you’d let him go wild on your deliciously thick thighs, man’s folds immediately if you let him rest his head on your thighs (you may will definitely get bitten so beware)

Hubby!Soap who loves absolutely everything about you, your personality, your attitude, your body.. literally he could not tell anybody a flaw about you if they were to ever ask— he thinks of you as perfection, a divine gift the gods graciously bestowed upon him

Hubby!Soap who shamelessly ogles you anytime and anywhere, if he’s not groping you inappropriately (consensual of course, with you smacking his chest after the yelp you let out when he snuck up on you to pinch your ass) then he’s undressing you with his eyes

Hubby!Soap who will absolutely tie your shoes without you telling him to, he’d drop to his knees in front of you any day of the week, and you blush hard every time he ties up your shoes or undoes the laces and takes them off at the end of a long day

Hubby!Soap who is the definition of chivalry, he adores and treasures you so much, he won’t let you open a door for yourself, treats you to dinner often, buys your large bouquets of flowers and expensive chocolates

Hubby!Soap who melts whenever you treat him with as much adoration as he shows you, whenever you just love on him he’s instantly putty in your hands

Hubby!Soap who’s favorite spot (besides laying on your thighs or having his head between them) is your chest, he loves when you cradle him close and comb your fingers through his mohawk or scratch your nails over the buzzed sides, he loves listening to your heart against his ear, and he loves the goosebumps that erupt all over your skin when he pressed gentle kisses to the scars beneath your pecs, if you haven’t had top surgery yet he’d kiss your stomach and garner the same reaction

Hubby!Soap who loves it when you ride his face, locking you against his mouth with thick forearms over your thighs to prevent you from pulling up in overstimulation— in which he’s made you cum so much you saw stars, he uses a technique he knows you loves because it makes his facial hair scratch again the sensitive skin of your inner thighs

Hubby!Soap who worships the very ground you walk upon, and who worships and praises you in bed all the time “so perfect for me” and “you’re absolutely divine bonnie” or “i’d do absolutely anything for you” and “you’re everything to me and so fuckin’ perfect”

Hubby!Soap who loves kissing your neck because it makes you giggle and he adores that adorable sound of yours, folds every time he hears it so he kisses your neck to draw it out of you

Hubby!Soap who gives you his undivided attention after coming home from an extensive assignment that kept him away from you for a longer period of time, taking care of you and holding you in his arms

Hubby!Soap who goes weak and willingly submits to your whims if you sit on his cock and ride him like there’s not tomorrow, he loves it when you seat yourself all the way down and grind on him, the feel of your heavenly walls fluttering and clenching around him makes him believe in a god— because he swear he sees the motherfucker every time you do that

Hubby!Soap who loves waking up in your arms, cuddles closer to you in the early hours of the dawn and relished in the warmth of your body against his

Hubby!Soap who gets jealous easily, who can and will teach you a lesson on who you belong to if you decide to make the unwise choice of fanning that jealousy by flirting with other men or openly expressing “interest” in guys at the bar (you were finessing free drinks out of creeps who spoke to you first and wouldn’t take no as an answer, jealous husband is just a bonus)

Hubby!Soap who facetimes you and calls you whenever he can if he’s on assignment, he’d always find time no matter what because he just loves you so much

Hubby!Soap who’s possessive and will never go out in public without touching you in some way, his hand in the back pocket of your pants, his arms around your waist holding your hip, or wrapped around his shoulders as you walk beside him, your hand reaching up to the one around your shoulders to lock your fingers together

Hubby!Soap who your whole family is fond of, your mama loves him, your dad respects him and your younger siblings adore him (if you’re not in contact with your family then it’s close friends who wholeheartedly approve of him)

Hubby!Soap who loves being domestic with you, going with you to the grocery store, cooking dinner, cleaning the apartment you share, anything that involves spending time with you he loves

Hubby!Soap who would absolutely adopt a shelter cat with you, she’s a tortie and she adores him (she loves you too, just loves him a whole lot more)

Hubby!Soap who would play Animal Crossing or Minecraft with you, both of you laid out on the couch in cozy pajamas and all cuddled up together as you built villages together (he’d burn your house to the ground because he’s an asshole, but he wouldn’t even consider doing it unless he knew for sure you’d also find it funny)

Hubby!Soap who loves holding you in his arms just as much as he loves being in yours, he knows you find immense comfort being held lovingly by him so he loves cradling you close

Hubby!Soap who will take such good care of you if you ever have a dysphoric episode, where you feel absolutely god awful and just want to hide away from everything and everyone, he’ll start a bath for you with scented candles, bath salts and your favorite bubble bath, he’ll cook you dinner and he’ll hold you as long you need him to, anything he can do to make you feel better he’ll do it without hesitation

Hubby!Soap who would help you take your testosterone if you struggled, who’d help you monitor how long your binder was on if you haven’t had top surgery, and he’d love on your scars if you have

Hubby!Soap who loves the idea of starting a family with you, will listen attentively and input his opinions during a heartfelt and serious conversation regarding the topic, if you want to carry he’ll be there every step of the way, if you want to adopt he’d take time off to hold your hand throughout the process, if you want a surrogate he’ll follow your lead in choosing one that you both can trust with this

Hubby!Soap who would also respect your choice if a family isn’t something you wanted, he’d still love you all the same and just as passionately, because maybe kids just aren’t for you or maybe you just want a life with him and him only for as long as it lasts, either way he’d be respectful of your decision and still adore you to the ends of the Earth

Hubby!Soap who sometimes will need you more than you need him, who will sometimes get into these headspaces in which he doesn’t think he’s good enough, not for you, not for the military, not for anything, and you’re always always there to reassure him and support him, cuddling him close or massaging his tense muscles, whispering praises and promised of love and adoration to him as he cuddles you close

Hubby!Soap who you love stealing hoodies from, because of how much bigger they are on you and because of how much they smell like him

Hubby!Soap who just loves and adores you so much

—

a/n: want this man so fucking bad it ain’t even funny

#callofduty #cod x male reader #x male reader #cod mw2 #male reader #male reader smut #john soap mactavish #soap x male reader

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Idk if you’re taking requests but what about RE6 onwards Leon with reader who is much younger (early twenties)? I think it would be sooo cute

If someone has requests, then I accept everything! I have practically no topics that trigger me, so if someone wants to see some headcanon, then I will gladly try to fulfill his desire)

To be honest, Leon was 36 years old at the time of re6, and if the reader is twenty… for me, 16 years is a small age difference because I literally know a couple with many children, who have an age difference of a little more than twenty years, and they live together perfectly. it makes me believe in love.

There comes a moment when, probably, it was worth realizing that the woman who was being chased for more than twenty years was just a love interest and beckoned only with her mystery and flirtation.

It's unpleasant, but Leon came to this conclusion almost immediately after Lanshiang. The last night with Ada put all the dots in their strange relationship.

It was as if Leon had received a sobering slap in the face that brought him back from heaven to earth. On the other hand, Ada will forever remain a part of the history of his life, but not of the future, but only of the past.

Some part of him wanted to take care of someone close, despite all the fear and risks. Every living being wants to love and be loved in return.

But Leon was still afraid to take risks, however, he was not averse to having lunch with a beautiful girl who did not refuse a free dinner.

At some point, a free dinner for you and a quiet conversation with a person, not a zombie for him, turned into a series of pleasant dates and gifts in the form of fruit baskets to your rented apartment.

You liked Leon, but you understood that he was…a little older than you… Actually, for as many as 15-16 years, but he definitely wasn't fit to be a father yet. The actual question was, what did he want from you?

Does he just want to have sex with a young girl? Well, then you let him know that this number will not work with you.

You already want to close the door in his face before he suggests the usual walks. Just talking. Without dirty hints or suggestions from which you could slap him a ringing slap in the face.

He is glad that for some reason you agreed (because you found him interesting yourself), and conversations with you bring him to his senses, making him believe that there is still something to fight for in this world.

Previously, your meetings were held in crowded places, but after a couple of months you ventured to invite him to your place and treated him to lunch. "It's not Italian pasta from a professional chef, but I hope you don't die of poisoning". Leon laughs, encouraging you that your food is more edible than what he can cook.

More and more Leon finds himself fascinated by you as a person. He likes to listen to how your day went, to see your smile, something blooms in him when you are next to him.

You really look like an angel sent to him by heaven. He does not believe in God, but it seems to him that a real blessing is in front of him.

Leon will take the initiative of the first kiss when he realizes that he is in love. This is the first time he's worried about your age difference even though he hopes you won't push him away.

He's a broken man. Therefore, when you reciprocate him, something inside him clicks, triggering like a switch. Leon will wrap his hands around your face, deepening the kiss, but will not go further if you are not ready for more intimacy yet.

He thinks you're too perfect.

He likes to give you sudden compliments and watch you blush. I think he will specifically shower you with various pleasant epithets so that you are embarrassed.

The tone of his voice is always filled with love. Leon likes to hug you from behind when you're cooking or doing something. However, he completely goes crazy when you start taking the initiative and, for example, hugging him. Then don't even hope to escape from his strong arms. "You wanted hugs yourself, but I refuse to let you out of them".

He seriously won't let you out. Instead, he will kiss the top of your head and stroke your back, holding you tightly to him, as if afraid that you will be taken away.

"You mean a lot to me." - The thumb strokes the skin of the cheek. - Tell me if you don't want any serious relationship. I'm often away from home, I'm much older than you…damn it, the last reason should be more than enough for me to leave you and my fucking feelings. I don't want to force you into anything, so if you're not sure or don't want to, then I'll understand everything.

You cover his lips with an uncertain kiss, hoping that such an answer will suit him. Pulling away just to press against his forehead while your warm palms hold his face.

This answer will suit him perfectly.

Leon's defender mode is clearly activated.

At first, he will come to your house to have dinner and spend time in your company, but he will constantly comment that there is barely enough space in this "cardboard box" for one person, let alone two.

A subtle hint that his girlfriend moved in with him.

He will help you move all your things. In fact, despite the vastness of his apartment, Leon admits that it is too empty, but hopes that you will fill the space. In truth, he wants it himself. Now he had a good reason to come home as soon as possible.

When you're not too busy, he'll distract you from your studies.

You can tell Leon a hundred times that you love him, but everything you do for him (even if it's insignificant little things for you) makes him love you much more. However, what he definitely doesn't want is for you to see him in a broken state.

Leon hates thunder and lightning. It reminds him of a traumatic childhood, pulls out the memory of Raccoon City, so he will leave the warm bed so as not to wake you up and go to the kitchen trying to overcome another nightmare.

The last thing he wants is someone to comfort him. He couldn't save a lot of people, he lost someone all the time and still can't forgive himself for the death of the president. You are his sun, while he is just a shadow. Leon is not going to pour out all the shit that happened to him on you, but you are just a real blessing that takes away his pain when you press your chest against his broad back, kissing the skin covered with goosebumps.

Are you so worried about his condition? Leon would prefer not to bother you, but the way you take a glass of whiskey from his hands, sit next to him on the bar stool, remove the bangs from his face to see how broken he is.

Tears are not weakness! You cover Leon's face with a lot of gentle kisses, hugging him to you, whispering various endearments in his ear. "If you need my support, then you will get it"

Taking care of him does something to his heart, but it's not something terrible. On the contrary, Leon wants to return this love to you in double size, so be prepared for manifestations of tenderness. What is completely normal and natural for you, for Leon is very expensive. In addition, you are the first woman in a very long time who stays with him in bed after sex, and in the morning cooks him breakfast, because Ada never stayed with him for more than one night.

And he is grateful to you.

"Will you stay with me?" - A request that sounds almost like a mantra when he sits you down on the table, hugging you under the hips. - "I know I'm old for you, but I want you to be mine. Tell me you want it to… Because if you want to leave later, I won't be able to let you go."

Now you are in the same boat with him, but we must admit that if this boat sinks, he will do everything to pull you ashore. Understand how you want. If earlier he could still agree to a meeting with Ada while your relationship was in limbo, now he belongs entirely to you in body and soul. Leon knows that you are too young, but he hopes and trusts that your fellow students will not become your love interest. You promised him.

He likes to give you gifts, but what he doesn't expect is that you will give him a wristwatch.

"Just a sign of attention. I thought you might like it, but you don't have to wear them if they're not your type".

Your gift is now always on his right hand.

Well, after a long relationship, he decides to put a ring on you and hopes that you will say yes. This is a risk he is willing to take, promising himself that he will protect you in case of danger.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon kennedy x y/n

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ccuniculusmolestus · 5 months

Text

Bunny Corcoran: Mother, Women and Sexuality (Masterpost)

Apologies for the shitty quality screenshot, idk why their quality got butchered.

Anyway I divided this thing into IV parts.

Intro

Camilla

Marion

Henry

INTRO & DISC.

Not to be a bunny apologist literally, he's sexist piece of shit, but you know whats funny? The way this fandom absolutely REFUSES to acknowledge the fact that, despite Richard's shady ass describing Bunny as "homophobic but not in a repressed way", Bunny could very well be gay or bi at the very least. The fandom just doesn't want to see it because he doesn't form "convenient" enough ships with major characters (he does. You guys are just cowards.)

Yes I know, sexist hetero men despise women just for being women, but they view women purely through a sexual lens. But Bunny's prude ass was NOT a pervert. I mean, this is the guy that got triggered when Richard asked him about his hickey.

Yes yes sexually repressed people can act prude-ish in front of people but be total pervs when alone, but nothing at all hinted at Bunny being a pervert who viewed women as walking meat bags. I just find it weird that the only two female companions he had (Marion and Camilla, aside from Judy bcs we never see them interact) he just...didn't like them. Camilla he was good to, occasionally, in a very platonic way ("paternalistic stance").

CAMILLA

And you know what drives me crazy? In this group of 5 boys and 1 girl, Bunny was the ONLY one who was never inappropriate (sexually) or sexual with Camilla. Even the openly gay guy in the group had kissed her at least once. Even her own brother-- not finishing that. Henry slept with her too. Richard kissed her, and wanted to sleep with her. Not Bunny. Yes, Bun was cruel to her in other ways, ordering her around, saying she was intellectually inferior, but he showed ZERO romantic interest in her. Which is kind of ironic to me. The only homophobe in that group was the only one not acting straight.

MARION

With Marion, my god, the way this boy behaved.

He called her his "reason of being", the purpose of his existence, but he could barely tolerate her. She was only a clip holding him together from those parts where he was falling apart; wounds left from a neglectful mother. Lets not mention how Marion is sort of an underdeveloped image of his mother; delicate, blonde, somewhat haughty.

That bitterness he probably feels towards Kathy was then pointed to Marion. Its so freaking clear that Marion is filling the "Mother" role in Bunny's life. She's "feminine" (a trait often associated with motherhood and vice versa), she's "bossy and businesslike". I don't need to explain this, I'm sure.

But watch Bunny's reactions to her; hes submissive for the most part.

For a man who's so incredibly sexist, it doesn't make sense for him to choose such a woman as his partner, does it? Now, either Richard entirely fabricated or exaggerated Bunny's sexism in order to justify his murder, or

His "dislike" for women didn't stem from the weird sexual obsessions misogynists tend to have, but from something else. It could be, purely, his mommy issues, or something else.

You know that whole, Bunny calling Marion that title, but treating her like a chore just reflects what a big performance his relationship truly was. He didn't love Marion, perhaps he liked her, appreciated or cared for her, but he didn't love her. Marion was, like every other thing in his life, just an element to uphold an image of himself. Potential beard? Maybe.

HENRY

Bunny's true "raison d'etre" might have not existed. The only person he could be said to gave been obsessed with was, truly, Henry. And im not just saying this for the sake of it. Bunny was invested in and attached to Henry, perhaps a result of his financial dependence on him.

I don't know guys, I just don't think its normal to snoop around your best friend's things often, or make multiple attempts to read their journal--

this boy was DESPERATE to know the inner workings of Henry's mind. Mind you, this is BEFORE Bunny found out about the murder, or had reason to suspect Henry for anything. Henry's said he was always nosing around for it, and he mentioned Bunny was an "obtrusive" roommate -- meaning this was normal occurrence for him around Henry. Yes, he was also kind of like this with others (Stealing stranger's foods, stealing Charles' cooking literally as he works in the kitchen) but neither of these required a sense of interest in the person he was stealing from. It was to serve his own needs.

Bunny also shows a reluctance to lose Henry.

After their fight, he's so overwhelmed that he doesn't know how to react (mentioned by Henry himself), and his first instinct is to try and cling onto whatever shred of normalcy there was left between them. Despite knowing the numerous cruel things Henry had written about him, Bunny just took it. He stayed somewhat amiable to Henry later. Yes, yes. He got annoying about "the blackmail" (or his inability to keep his mouth shut) but Henry and Francis BOTH tell Richard that Bunny doesn't see what he's doing as "blackmail".

In fact, i think Bunny the fool was trying to get "in" on the feeling of being in on a secret. Image below is regarding that German that started following them in Rome.

But his immediate reaction of pretending everything's fine isn't the first or last time he tries to keep things cool with Henry.

Henry, despite having to deal with Bunny's worst tantrums, was still treated with a degree of respect that seemed to be reserved only for him. Was he afraid of Henry? Hell no.

Bunny was never afraid of insulting Henry, or fighting with him. But he rarely ever got personal with him. Yes yes he complained about the money and every little thing, but the way he went after the rest of the class? Targeting their weaknesses? He would've known Henry's weakness, he was perceptive enough. But he didn't. He still treated Henry with respect. Deference. Described as "polite submission and respect".

With Henry, Bunny was totally emotionally vulnerable. Henry reactedd explosively twice during their arguments. The first is when he slapped Bunny so hard that he "left a big white mark on his cheek", and the second where he broke that chair when Bunny was fighting him in his room. Despite losing control, Henry maintained a level of composure. Bunny never did. He became hysterical each time, screaming and becoming violent the first time, but sobbing himself to sleep (IN HENRYS BED) the second time.

He slept in his bed. There was literally no reason for him to do that.

Except maybe he craved closure. Maybe he just missed his best friend. Maybe he was too shaken up to move from his spot.

And I don't want none of you fools being all "Henry didn't gaf about Bunny."

This is Henry's reaction to Richard essentially saying "You thought Bunny wouldn't be a problem??" And then reiterating that they're old friends.

Do you even understand the implications of that last line? Bunny, whose entire being was hidden under a carefully crafted persona, admitted his family's SHORTCOMINGS with HENRY. Bunny, whose image was everything for him. Perhaps his image WAS his raison d'etre. Bunny, who lived life as an illusion of his true self, projecting away his insecurities. Bunny, who would never admit that he was poor, that his family was flawed in any way, told Henry this. How many more things do you think he confessed, or what other parts of his past and home did he reveal?

Yes, he could have just been telling Henry those things to mooch him off, but he also mooched off his other friends.they didn't know a thing. Marion, who I believe his family hadn't met yet (?) Probably didn't even know. Amd if youre from a dysfunctional home, you already know the only people you've told about your home are special, hand-picked.

Henry was also the first and only person Bunny told about Camilla/Charles.

Perhaps it hurt him, being left out of such a major events of Henry's life because Bunny was sharing practically everything with him.

Alls I'm saying is, Henry meant more to Bunny than most people realize (and dare I say, vice versa), and the only reason people don't see it is because RICHARD didn't see it (fool saw the potential of the dynamic but then was like "nah bunny's too ugly for that").

Bunny was most definitely either a repressed bisexual/gay man, and you cannot change my mind. And while his hatred of women is vile and inexcusable, it stemmed from a place of deep personal issues and insecurities.

Anyway. I'm done rambling LOL.

#MAN I KIND OF HYPERFIXATED ONNTHIS POST MY BAD #i hope i converted some poor soul out there to winterbunny #RICHARD SLANDER FOREVER #tsh #henry winter #tsh donna tartt #winterbunny #the secret history #winterhare #camilla macaulay #richard papen #bunny corcoran #marion barnbridge #katherine corcoran

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