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#I'm working my ass off so I deserve some treats ...
buckybuckyboo · 2 days
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Let us take care of you
Word count: 3,400
Summary: Your boyfriend is an asshole so the boys show you how you should be treated.
A/N: MINORS DNI. 18+
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"Jesus, can't you just stay in with me for once! You're always hanging out with your boys. Please, Jake, let's watch a movie and cuddle"
Giving your boyfriend your best puppy dog eyes hoping it will work.
""Sorry baby, I've got plans. I'll see you later"
He turns and leaves, not even a kiss on the cheek. Your eyes start to sting with the tears building up.
"Doll?
You hear a voice from behind you. Take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. Turning around and seeing Bucky and Steve standing there.
"Are you okay?" Steve asks. Clearing your throat you half smile at him "I'm okay, just another night in by myself"
"You should dump his ass! He has no idea what he's just lost!"
"It's fine Bucky, he just wanted to go out with his boys again"
Steve crosses the living room hugging you. Bucky walks up behind him "Doll, you deserve better than that asshole". Steve moved back, letting Bucky move in to hug you tight. He pulls back holding your head in his hand. "Why don't you let us show you" he smirks.
"What?"
"Let us show you how you should be treated. Forget that idiot! He doesn't know how to treat you"
You stare at him and start to laugh. "Good one Buck! Thanks for the laugh"
"I'm not joking baby girl, I'm 100% serious"
Looking over at Steve who had a smirk on his face. "Are you crazy? I can't do that!" walking away and sitting on the couch.
Steve walks over to the couch and sits beside you, placing his hand on your thigh.
"Baby just dump that jackass and be ours? I promise we will take good care of you!.
Bucky sat at the other side of you as Steve talked. He brushes your hair behind your ear and smiles. You look between the both of them "Okay, now would be a great time to tell me you are joking"
"We're not joking," Steve says. "Jake doesn't deserve you. He left you all alone" Bucky whispers against your neck sending shivers down your spine and leaving goosebumps along your skin." He- He is just out with his friends" you stutter out. Steve's hand starts to move up your inner thigh as Bucky nudges against your neck.
You almost give in to them, then you snap out of it and push them away getting up from the couch. "I- I can't do this. I'm not cheating on Jake"
"Y/N, he's no good for you. He treats you like crap! We have seen it for weeks" Steve says "Just dump his ass Y/N" Bucky adds.
"That's my decision," you say and walk into your room closing the door. Sitting on your bed for hours thinking late into the night until you hear knocking at the front door. When you go out, Bucky is already at the door opening it and it's Jake.
"Hey man, I've told her many times to give me a key but what can you do. Women, am I right?"
"I thought you were with your boys tonight"
Jake turns looking at you "So we went out for a few drinks"
"And you don't think I'd like to go out too?"
"Come on baby, don't do this to me now you are running my buzz and I'm tired"
"I think you should stay somewhere else"
Jake laughs "Why would I go anywhere else when I can always come back here?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're easy"
"What!?" That made your blood boil. He tried to grab you by the arm but you backed away.
"Oh come on Y/N don't do-" He was interrupted by a punch to the face. What surprised you more was that it was you who threw the punch making Jake hit the floor.
"Ow! Fuck!" Shouting as you shake your hand.
"Y/N what the fuck as that for?" he holds his nose as he curls up into a ball on the floor.
"That, Jake is me breaking your nose and also breaking up with you"
Catching a glimpse of Bucky who is trying his best to not laugh.
"Get this trash out of here Bucky?"
"I'd be happy to doll"
Bucky grabs him by his shirt, lifting him off the floor effortlessly and then throwing him out the door and closing it behind him.
"Fuck fuck fuck! Ow!"
"Here let me get you some ice for that hand doll"
He walks over grabs a clean towel, puts some ice cubes in it, and gently places it against your hand
It makes you hiss for a second but it feels better after a while.
"Impressive punch Y/N"
"Thanks"
"I know right now this is a very stupid question but, are you okay?" that makes you chuckle softly.
"Besides my hand hurting, I'm fine Bucky. Thank you"
"You're welcome. I'm here if you need anything okay?"
"Okay" smiling up at him. He sat up with you a little while longer, holding the ice pack against your hand and then you both went back to bed. You were tossing and turning all night. The next morning Bucky filled Steve in on what happened and then they both checked in on you. They decided to leave you alone when you were finally in a deep sleep. Steve walked over leaving some water and some painkillers for your hand. Before he left, he leaned over you kissing the top of your head and whispering how proud he was of you, and left the room.
The next couple of days were busy. Bearly seeing Bucky or Steve because you had to work. You seen Jake though, he came to the coffee shop where you worked. Two black eyes and something over his nose to keep it in place probably. His friends giving him a hard time for running into a sign post drunk. That made you laugh and shake your head. When they saw you they crowded around the front of the cashier.
"Aw Y/N won't you come take care of poor Jaky boy? We know you're on a break but he needs someone to hold his hand"
They all laugh and pat each other on the back.
"On a break? I dumped him and broke his damn nose. Not a sign post, me. I think I have done more than enough"
"You broke his nose?" they all burst out laughing.
Then you held up your bruised hand.
"Yeah, it was me! I broke his nose and threw him out like the trash he is"
The laughing died down pretty quickly. Your manager came over and told them all to leave.
"Are you okay Y/N?"
"Yeah Sam, I'm good just need a second"
He smiles."Take your break champ you deserve it after that and remind me never to piss you off" He walks away laughing.
When you got home after work the place was empty. Sitting at the table, remembering the offer Bucky and Steve had offered you. Both? That can't be right. Why would both of them want me? They both arrive home about an hour later and are happy to finally be able to see you.
"Hey doll face! How was work?"
"It was okay, Jake and his friends showed up"
"Did you punch him again?" Steve laughs as he sits across from you.
"No, I didn't but I wanted to. He told his boys he ran into a sign post while drunk"
"Wow, what a pussy" Bucky adds.
"I set them straight and then Sam asked them to leave"
"Are you okay?" Steve asks with a worried expression.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Been doing some thinking"
Bucky sits beside Steve. "What have you been thinking about?"
"What you said that night" Bucky and Steve look at each other and then back to you.
"Have you made a decision sweetheart?" Bucky asks as he takes a drink of his coffee.
Taking a deep breath "Not yet. I have questions"
"Okay, well we are here now do you want to ask them?
"If that's okay with both of you?"
"Fine with me doll, Steve?"
"Ask away sweetheart". Both of them sit up in their chairs waiting for your questions.
"I'm a little unclear on what you meant by being yours?"
"You can be both mine and Steves's girl"
"We both want to date you"
"But you and Steve are together?"
"Yeah? Is that a problem?" Bucky asks.
"No no, it's just a little strange no? What will people say?"
"Who cares what they say or think? The only thing that matters is what you want"
"I'm sorry I'm just confused"
Bucky get's up and sits on the chair beside you.
"What we want is to make you happy. You will be dating me and also dating Steve. We will always be around to have a movie night with you and lots of cuddles" he smiles "You are ours, and we are yours"
Steve comes over kneeling beside you "How do you feel about going out on a date with us tonight?"
"Tonight?"
"Too soon?"
"No no, sorry I'd love to go out with both of you tonight. What time?"
Bucky and Steve smile "Does 8 sound okay"
"Yeah that's okay"
"Okay! It's a date!"
"Okay! I'm gonna get cleaned up. What should I wear?"
"What about that pretty little black dress that's been in the back of your closet?" Steve smiles making you blush.
"Okay, little black dress it is"
You hadn't been taken on a date for months so you were pulling out all the stops. Showering and using your favorite shower gel that you knew the boys loved cause they always mentioned how good it smelled. Pretty black lingerie with red bows to go with the dress and black heels to match. The boys waited for you in the living room, both of them speechless as you walked in.
"Wow Y/N, wow"
"You look beautiful sweetheart!"
"Thank you" you blush "You both look very handsome"
Steve laughs "Well we are trying to make an impression. Ready to go?"
"Yep! Where are we going?"
"Dinner and dancing," Bucky says while holding the door open while Steve grabs your jacket for you. It felt a little awkward the elevator as you didn't know what to say or where to look.
They escorted you out of the building and into the car that was waiting. Bucky sat up front and Steve sat in the back with you. When the car arrived at the restaurant, Bucky got out first, and opened the door for you, holding your hand as you stepped up onto the footpath. Both of them took your arms beside you as all three of you walked in. The meal was fantastic! They let you order whatever you wanted and demanded that you order dessert. You caught both of them a couple of times looking at you and it made your stomach flip. After the dinner was finished, Bucky grabbed your jacket and put it on for you.
"The club is just down the street. Do you mind walking doll?"
"Not at all Bucky"
He smiles taking you by the hand while you both wait for Steve. When you are both joined by Steve all three of you start walking to the club down the street. Bucky still holding your hand and Steves's hand is on your lower back. Once you got outside the club you were all let in straight away. Bucky immediately pulls you onto the dance floor. You smile wrapping your hands around his neck and dancing with him. Feeling something press against your back, looking back, and seeing Steve. Both of them have you sandwiched in and you are 100% okay with that. You were having so much fun till it was all ruined by Jake.
"Wow how could you act like such a slut"
"Fuck you Jake I should have never wasted my time on you!"
He decides to step closer to you but Bucky steps in front of him.
"What's wrong Jake? Afraid she will break your nose again?"
"Jake just get out ofhere. I don't want you anymore. How many times do I have to tell you that I dumped your ass"
"Take the hint and fuck off!"
You were surprised by Steve and it made you smile. Jake walked away back into whatever dark corner of the club he came from.
"Are you okay Y/N?"
"Yeah I'm okay" You smiled kissing Steves's lips and then Bucky's.
"I've got both of you"
They both smile wide "Let's get you home hm?" Bucky suggests and you and Steve agreed. They escort you out of the club and wait for the car. The cold air feels nice on your skin.
All of you got into the car and headed back home. You weren't drunk but you did have a few drinks, you were feeling good. The three of you walked into the elevator and Steve pressed the button for your floor. Bucky and Steve stood on either side of you. You leaned over laying your head on Steve's shoulder, then leaned up kissing his neck. He tangled his fingers in your hair pulling you up to kiss his lips. You felt something press against your back and turned to see Bucky. Turning around still in between them to face Bucky who you kiss too. Steve's lips all over your neck and shoulders "God you smell so fucking, good baby"
When Bucky hears the elevator doors open he pulls you away from Steve and walks with you to the apartment door.
He opens the door and you all walk in. You throw your bag on the couch and sit to take your shoes off. Steve kneels in front of you and helps.
"Do your feet hurt baby?"
"No they are okay, thank you, both of you. I really had fun tonight"
"You're welcome doll. I'm glad you had a good time" Steve was rubbing his hands along your smooth legs.
"Well then, I guess I better go to bed" you smile. Getting up from the couch and walk towards your room. You stopped and turned looking at both of them "Are you coming?"
They both look at each other and then back at you.
"Who do you want baby?" Bucky asks making you smile.
"Both of you"
The boys follow you into your room. Steve closed the door behind him while Bucky made his way over to the bed and sat down. Turning your back to him and asking him to unzip your dress. He pulls the zipper down kissing the skin that becomes exposed, sending shivers down your spine. You take the straps down off your shoulders and let your dress fall and pool at your feet. Turning around to Bucky and standing between his legs "You look amazing baby girl. You wear this for us?" You nod biting your bottom lip. Turning around and walking over to Steve. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. "What do you think Stevie? Do you like what I wore for you and Bucky?"
Steve nods "You look, beautiful baby, you always look beautiful"
You smile "I wanna watch both of you together"
Bucky gets up from the bed and makes his way over to Steve kissing him passionately while undoing his belt and jeans, reaching into his boxers and pulling his cock out and stroking it slowly. Steve rests his head back against the door as he pants. Bucky kneels taking Steve's cock into his mouth. You can't get over the sight of Bucky on his knees for him and the moans leaving Steve's mouth. It's turning you on so much. Bucky reaches over ripping your panties down and running his fingers through your soking folds. "She's so wet Steve"
Bucky moves over to you, hooking your leg over his shoulder and licking through your folds. The taste of you making him moan sends shivers up your spine. Steve moves over kissing you while Bucky does his work.
Running your fingers through his hair as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks. Steve takes your bra off and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Your moans echo around the room. Bucky looks up at you with the biggest smirk on his face.
"What?"
"We've never heard you moan like that baby"
"Well, it feels really good!"
"Good! I'm glad doll. Lay on the bed for us?"
You smile, walking over to the bed, and lie down. You watch as they undress and make their way over to you. Both of them on either side of you. Both of their cocks leaking with pre cum. We gotta get you ready for our cocks okay baby girl?"
"Okay, how are you going to do that?"
"We are gonna make you cum a couple of times " Steve smirks.
"How are you going to do that without your cocks? They both chuckle softly
"Our fingers and our mouths baby"
They both keep their work making you cum on their fingers and tongues. You have never come like that, not even on your own. Steve sits with his back against the headboard. You are facing him sucking his cock while Bucky positions himself behind you and lining himself up at your entrance. The stretch from his cock was like nothing you had ever felt before. Pleasure mixed with pain and it made you moan on Steve's cock. Bucky gave you a few minutes to adjust before he started moving in and out. You could feel him fill you up so much every time he pushed back in.
"So fucking tight baby doll fuck I'm not going to last at this rate"
Steve looked up at him through hooded eyes "How does she feel Buck?"
"So fucking good Steve, she's tight. Squeezing me so much! Damn it's so good"
Bucky's pace becomes faster making you lay on Steve's stomach while you moan. Bucky pulls you back against his chest burying his cock deeper inside you. He held you up by placing his hand across your chest. Bucky whispers in your ear saying how much of a good girl you are for both of them while you watch Steve stroke his cock.
Bucky brings his hand up around your throat as he fucks you. Steve moves closer to you, reaching down and playing with your clit.
"Come on sweetheart, cum all over Bucky's cock like a good girl"
Steve tried to swallow your moans but it felt so good you couldn't help but moan louder. Your pussy clamping down around Bucky's cock making him cum just seconds after you. He buried his head in your neck while he moaned. Your head fell against Steve's chest as you panted. He held you tight while you caught your breath looking up at him through hooded eyes, you smiled and kissed him softly.
"Lay back down Stevie"
He smiles and does so while looking up at you. Taking his cock back into your mouth. His head falls back, his hand tangled in your hair. Bucky sits beside Steve, he smiles watching him moan. He leans over kissing Steve's shoulder, his neck, and then up to his lips. Feeling Steve's cock twitch against your tongue, you use your hand to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth.
"Oh fuck!" he moans holding your hair tighter. Bucky moves down close to you, kissing along steves hip "Let's make him cum together baby girl" he smirks. He pulls you up kissing your lips. he positions himself on one side of his cock and you on the other and you both take turns sucking on his cock. It sends Steve right over the edge shooting ropes of cum into your and Bucky's mouths and all over his stomach. Even after he is finished cumming both of you still suck on his sensitive cock making him moan even more until he tells you both to stop. You and Bucky share a passionate kiss before he pulls you in between him and Steve. Steve wraps his arms around you while kissing along your shoulder while you look into Bucky's eyes.
"Are you okay baby?" Steve whispers. You smile and turn your head to him "More than okay, Stevie. I can't believe I almost said no to this"
Bucky laughs while kissing along your neck "Oh baby girl, it's just getting started"
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I did not sleep in, but I sure as heck did lay in bed and rest for a while.
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wrioluvr · 25 days
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flirty playboy x mature male reader
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this stupid ass meme had been on my mind forever and i realised how funny it would be to have a slutty playboy who just sleeps with anyone to seriously pine over a more mature, secure guy who doesn't fall for any of his shallow charms and tricks.... here are just some blurbs of their dynamic (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
his name is roman. he's a little toxic, but he just wants to be loved.
cw: some smut, top male reader
it all started with a little night out. you didn't do those often, due to devoting most of your time towards work and earning a stable career, but finishing this particularly gruelling assignment called for a celebration. at the bar, dancing with your friends, a good-looking man with a playful glint in his eyes approached you full of bravado. he told you how handsome you were, and had been eyeing you from across the room for a while now. but from a single glance, you could tell he was the type to break hearts. beach-blonde dyed hair, a tight fitting tank top revealing his muscular build, an eyebrow piercing, the way his mouth curled up so subtly into a little smirk.... he was everything you knew to avoid getting serious with. but a little hookup couldn't hurt, right? you deserved a little fun.
and it didn't hurt you at all. a few failed relationships had made you wise beyond your years, knowing to easily seperate the good guys from the bad. you knew your self-worth. roman, on the other hand, was absolutely smitten. no other man had fucked him THIS good, gave him such gentle aftercare, and even let him stay as long as he needed. the way you so effortlessly lifted his legs up to thrust in and out of him at a rhythmic pace, or fondling his tits and squeezing his nipples softly while you hit it from the back, or tenderly running your fingers down his spine, arching it sensually.... he loved it all. it was clear to him that you prioritised his pleasure as much as your own, and it showed in how he orgasmed several times before you even came in him once, panting breathlessly while wearing the sluttiest expression of his life. it was nothing like any of the men he had sex with before. afterwards, you let him stay the night in a guest room, and even brewed a cup of coffee for him in the morning.
roman was damn near tears when you offered to drop him off at his house before you headed off to work. if he was being honest with himself, his insecurities were the root of his constant need for sexual intimacy, so being treated with genuine kindness for once was new to him.
"is dropping you off here alright?" you ask, turning into the road of his apartment complex.
"y-yeah...." he looks out the window, unsure how to look you in the eyes.
"okay. thanks for last night. stay safe." your words carried an air of finality to them, like you were so sure the two of you would never cross paths again. he didn't like that.
"uh, uh......" he stuttered, all his usual flirtatiousness thrown out the window as he couldn't meet your gaze. "could i... get your number?"
your friendly smile froze on your face. "uhhhh.... sorry, i'm not really looking for anything serious right now."
he quickly regained his composure, charm turned up to the max. shifting his tank top so more of his chest was exposed and you could notice his nipples protruding, roman whispered in a low tone, "that's okay! we can just be casual... and fuck anytime you like." a wink. a hand on your thigh.
"jeez... okay, no offense, but i've heard rumours from my friends that you're a bit of a... playboy. i'm not interested in being your toy, sorry."
roman's face flushed in embarrassment, knowing what you said was true. except the part on him seeing you as a toy. that was untrue. he could feel a warmth growing from the pit of his stomach at the thought of spending more time with you. were these... butterflies?
maybe begging would work.
"okay fine, i am a bit of a player... but please, please, pleaseeeeeee.... let's be in contact, okay? as friends?" roman sniffled pathetically, shaking your shoulder in desperation. he needed to be in your presence. why weren't his usual maneating tactics working?!?!
"alright. here you go. just don't spam me or anything, okay? i gotta go for work. see you." you sigh, a little exasperated but choosing not to let it show. he immediately lit up, typing your number in his contacts and saving many hearts next to your name. you prayed your acts of basic human decency wouldn't cause him to catch feelings. you needed to focus on your job right now.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
3:02pm
[romanbabyxx]
hiiiiiii
[romanbabyxx]
i know you said not to spam you but like
[romanbabyxx]
i miss u
[romanbabyxx]
can we meet up at the bar for drinks or something like that? please?
3:10pm
you check the messages on your phone, rolling your eyes and ignoring them. he was probably sending this text to at least three other guys right now. he had a history of cheating, based on what you heard from your friends. you weren't going to be another one of his victims.
5:35pm
[romanbabyxx]
are u ignoring me?
[romanbabyxx]
im sorryyyyyyyy
[romanbabyxx]
pls hit me back when ur free
7.30 pm
[name]
sorry, just got off work. will be super busy this week, so not free. mb.
[romanbabyxx]
oh, its okay! next week then?
[name]
i'll see
this went on for a few weeks, you constantly evading his invitations, being polite and professional, never too intimate over text. roman was starting to get fed up. he's so used to getting everything he wants, he doesn't know what to do when he actually has to work for the one he desires. he actually hadn't hooked up with anyone since your one night stand, but you didn't believe that.
roman was at his wits' end. he could only think of one final plan to get your attention.
trying to make you jealous.
over the next week, he hooked up with any and everyone he met in the bar, not bothering to keep his slutting around discreet. he wanted you to hear the rumours. he wanted you to feel a sense of unease within your very being. he wanted you to feel possessive. he wanted you, to want him. the whole time, even as he was getting fucked, he could only imagine you caressing him, holding him close, loving him.
his deeds didn't go unnoticed. your friends told you about it, yet you didn't feel anything in the slightest. you were right, after all... he forgot about you within a week and moved on to whichever poor man he would leave high and dry next.
the next time you bumped into him at the bar, roman was his usual, party-loving self, excitedly slinging an arm around you, a drink in hand. his plan had to work, surely? you would be begging to have him back. but yet, when he offhandedly (yet so intentionally) mentioned how much dick he had been getting the past week, anticipating your change in expression, nothing happened. "oh. good for you." was all you said.
he sputtered, flustered by your calm demeanour. didn't you care? at all?! "but.... but.... aren't you jealous? that i've been hooking up with other guys?!"
you stare at him, a genuine quzzical expression plastered across your face. "why would i be? it's not like we're dating or anything. it was just a one time thing."
your words hit like a knife through his heart. he clutched his chest dramatically, a pout forming on his lips. "i'll be faithful! i promise!" his words came out more desperate than he intended. he felt so vulnerable, so naked, yet you were the face of serenity. your unimpressed eyes stared through his soul, as if you were scrutinising his very core. he knew you could heal him, make him feel loved, but he was starting to doubt there was any possibility you would feel the same.
"i'm sure that's what you said to the last guy you cheated on."
.
.
.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
i intended for this to be lighthearted but why was it actually kinda depressing tbh
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justagaycryptid · 2 years
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Ngl Will is a better man than me because if I had to deal with half the shit he’s had to put up with over the years I would have immediately quit
#hm I've been Thinking and usually that doesn't end well#but goddamn can this man never catch a break#literally there is always someone up his ass for something#like I know that's sort of a part of being a content creator#but holy shit it really seems like he gets a special kind of bullshit slung at him constantly#I mean I'm sure he's thought about quitting before#though if he hasn't then this man is an absolute fucking trooper#like I joke about the ideal creator fan relationship being a pvp warzone#but I don't quite mean it in what ever the fuck that way is#anyways I hope he has a nice hiatus because he absolutely deserves it#and I hope he doesn't mean hiatus in the Markiplier way in which he takes a week off and immediately continues working#lmao he should pull a Tool and then not release anything for 14 years#maybe then his fanbase will grow the fuck up#and of course obligatory will is a flawed person with a complicated past and hasn't always done the best things#but the point is he has worked incredibly hard to improve himself and he so he doesn't deserve to be fucking treated like this#also I'm sure some of his continued working has to do with needing money to live because that's kinda important#but yeah sometimes I really just feel bad for the guy#honestly I'm pretty glad I didn't start listening to his music until I was in my late teens#because then I was actually old enough to appreciate it#although I wouldn't have quite done anything like I've seen other fans do even if I did listen to him when I was younger#because unlike other people I actually have a sense of shame#idk fucking ignore me it's after 9pm and I've allowed myself to think about things too much#shouting into the void#will wood
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kishibe-kisser · 7 months
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Nanami Kento had never quite considered himself old before. He wasn't old at all, matter of fact. He was only 27 years old and he knew that, but sometimes... sometimes after work, he felt like he was in his 60's. He hated work of any capacity but being a sorcerer? It was so physically taxing and today was taxing.
He arrived home to an empty house, not a peep of you to be heard. Truthfully, he was relieved. Kento hated coming home to you when he felt this physically exhausted, he hated seeing the worry in your eyes and hearing the caring tone in your voice. No, he could care for himself in this state. Make himself feel better before you got home. He couldn't worry you again like this, no matter how bad his muscles ached.
Standing in your shared bedroom, he took his suit jacket off following it with the brown leather harness. Letting out a his with each large movement, he didn't understand why he was so particularly sore that day but it was kicking his ass. Undoing his tie, he tossed it on the ground which was very unlike him but in his head he told himself he'd pick it up after his shower. Slowly he undid the buttons of his shirt, huffing before sitting on the edge of his bed.
Kento let himself fall back, shirt untucked and open, onto the bed. His goggles had slipped off and despite the fact that he didn't want to sleep yet, his eyes fell shut.
You knew he was home because of his shoes by the front door, but you weren't greeted with a kiss or him taking your bags for you at the door or helping you with your jacket. No, you were greeted with silence and that was concerning. Walking through your home, you found him asleep and snoring slightly. His shirt was open, showing his muscular body and his goggles were next to his head, undoubtedly have slid off of his face in his sleep.
"Kento, my love." You whispered softly, stroking his blonde hair from next to him on the bed. You didn't want to wake him, though you knew he'd be upset waking up in the morning probably being more sore than he already was from his sleeping position. He let out a grumble in response, eyes slowly opening to look at the disturber of his well deserved peace.
"I was trying to hide it from you, but I can't." He started, voice low from just waking up. He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself off the bed, groaning with each movement. "I can barely stand, I'm so sore and tired." His tone sounded pitiful and you found yourself smiling at him weakly. You wouldn't lecture him on his carelessness for his life or body, not today. He normally wouldn't admit this to you, but today, he couldn't hold out anymore.
"Alright, how about this. We take a shower, you and me. I'll help you wash up, maybe trim that little bit of stubble coming in." You watched him sleepily nod at your words, the thought of you holding him and washing his hair as warm water poured down on you both, that was his heaven. "And after that." You started, stroking his face and allowing your fingers to trace over his features. He nuzzled his face into your hand and kissed your palm softly. You then moved your hands down to his shoulders to carefully push his open shirt off of his shoulders and fully off of him. Your hand lingered on his bare shoulders, rubbing them with a little bit of force to find some of the knots. "If you're feeling up to it, I can give you a massage." He groaned at your words and the feeling of force behind your fingers, effectively melting into your hands even further.
"Let's start with shower, if I don't melt away into your hands then we can discuss a massage." Kento almost smiled before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away and pressing his forehead to yours. "I could worship the ground you walk on." He added on and you smiled, taking his face into your hands once more. He already did worship the ground you walked on, no man had treated you half as good as he did. This was the least you could do for him.
"Oh my dear, you already do."
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A/N: this was inspired by some fanart I saw and will I ever get over Nanami?? No.
This last ep, wrecked me.
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wtftarot · 25 days
Text
PAC: What are the truths you need to face
Another thanks to @lifeofaie for suggesting this pac. If you've got a pac idea feel free to send it to my inbox!
This one can be a little bit of a call-out, but I mean, it is a reading on what truths you need to face.
as always this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember use common sense and don't be a dumbass.
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Pick either the Sword, the Cat or the Stars and head on to your reading
The Sword
This group is kinda heavy, please be gentle on yourself.
The High Priestess, Four/Cups, The Tower, and the Seven/Wands on the bottom of the deck.
So, y'all kinda already know what truths you need to face. The problem is you're fighting them off. Y'all may be asking spirit or your guides a lot of questions that you already know the answers to. I'm hearing 'where there's smoke there's fire". With the Tower here, there's one truth in particular that you know that if you let yourself look at it head-on, things will have to change. It could even be painful to look at it head-on, (if it is please have some support when you choose to face it) It's like, all the signs are there but you're still iffy on it. This could be a person who you've started to notice the red flags or a situation that you know is bad but you won't let yourself really focus on just how bad. A few of you I'm getting, keep reading romance/ what are they thinking PACs for a person that you know isn't treating you right and maybe ignoring when the readings tell you that. I'm not trying to be harsh or call anyone out. I don't think any of the truths this group is facing are easy, little ones. I'm actually hearing the word "catastrophic". I know how scary it is to face something that you know will hurt. Cause part of it is admitting that it hurt and actually letting yourself feel that hurt instead of pretending it's not there. You are so brave and so so fucking strong and you will get through this. The advice for you is this be gentle on yourself and fucking tough on the situation. This will be hard and you want to give yourself time and space to rest and rebuild your strength. Then kick its fucking ASS. Bad shitty work/living situation? Setting boundaries with a shitty fucking person? Digging yourself out of a mental health pit? All of these are fucking tough as hell but you survived, ya know what that makes you right? Tougher than hell, that's what. Be fuckin cut-throat when it comes to getting things to a better place and then REST, alright? Eat, drink a lot of water, and do things that make you happy. Cause this is fucking hard and you need to take care of yourself. You are smart and capable and you deserve fucking better. Another thing that your guides keep pushing is support, you fuckin need it. I dunno if y'all have been trying to deal with all of this alone or if you haven't told anyone you're struggling but you need to. I'm fuckin serious. Talk out loud to spirit if you have to, just saying things out loud or writing them down can really help you process what's going on in your head. I believe in y'all.
random ass vibes: 10:10, Blue, camping, birds, 90s, cat cartoons,
The Cat
The Emperor Rx, the Star, The World Rx, and the Eight/Cups on the back of the deck
Listen, I don't really do relationship advice but some of y'all need to be told that you can't change him. You can't and no, he won't change for you. And you shouldn't go into a relationship expecting a person to change. That's not for everyone, take it as it resonates. You need to take action towards what you want. Y'all are dreamers and that's awesome. It seems though, they're just staying dreams. I'm a Pisces moon, I'm not judging y'all at all when I say this but y'all really kinda live in a fantasy. Y'all seem to have this tendency to ignore what's in front of you for what it could be. The way it's coming through is that y'all are leaving so fucking much on the table that could EASILY be yours but the fantasy obviously is more than reality could ever be so that's where your mind wants to stay. Thing is, y'all know we don't live in a fantasy and you want to do better in reality. BUT you see the fantasy you have as how things "could" be and when you do act on your dreams and they don't match up to the fantasy, you feel inadequate. Like you're not reaching your potential. So, you get down on yourself and never want to pursue your dreams. I know it's hard to accept that reality can never meet the fantasy we build up in our heads. Reality is messy and in our fantasy we never have to shit or floss or maintain what we have, we just have it. The truth is having to accept that life will never be perfect. There is no perfect relationship, perfect job, or perfect life. No routine is going to magically fix your life. The people you love will always have traits that annoy you a little bit, just like you have traits that annoy them a little bit, but you love each other and know you're both worth mild annoyance. It's time to ground your ideas into reality and let them be imperfect. Let them breathe. Y'all are limiting yourself to the idea of perfection. Your life IS going to be a little fucked up and messy no matter what. Some of y'all ain't even perfectionists, you just don't believe in yourselves and use things not meeting your fantasies as evidence that you can't do it. I'm not getting much in the way of advice for y'all other than to act? If this is your group then I'm betting you've had an idea of what this has all been referring to for you and know what action comes with that. Good luck!
random ass vibes: Gilmore girls? starting tarot reading (hell yeah!) a good nights sleep, 122,
The Stars
Judgment Rx, Four/Pentacles, The Hermit Rx, Two/Swords Rx and the High Priestess on the back of the deck.
So, first thing is: that you can't manifest yourself past the time some things need to take. Some things just take time. Y'all seem to be holding on to this idea that you're not the active force in your own life making things happen? It feels like there's a person or a group of people, or maybe you believe in fate but there's something that y'all are endowing with more power in your life than you. It's like to you it doesn't matter what you want, what decisions you make because it'll work out how this other thing deems it should. Your judgment doesn't matter. Some of y'all even feel like you don't have a say in who YOU are. Y'all may have had or do have really controlling parental figures. But FUCK. That's devastating, y'all. I can't imagine feeling like you're not the driving force in your own life. Listen, I don't believe in fate, destiny, soul-mates, or "meant to bes" and I am not judging y'all if you do but fate isn't engineering every single little thing in your life. It's not all that serious, I promise. You can just do things. It's not all make-or-break-life-altering-weight-of-cosmic-destiny-on-your-sholders. Your life shouldn't be focused on figuring out what your fated path is and sticking to that rigidly. Why? Cause that's not life, babe. That's following a script. The truth for y'all is that you are the driving force in your life and you need to start trying to see yourself that way. And this reading is looking to be short cause it's kinda existential, but you have free will and can choose and act and change things. If there is a "path" it's a vague one and you're making the rest up as you go. You can just step off of it. Anytime. Head in any direction you want. You don't have to be with that person if you don't want to just cause someone said y'all were soul mates. You don't have to choose that career just cause it seems "fated", if you hate it, hate it and leave. YOU make the decisions.
random ass vibes: Russian Doll (tv show), 144, reds and yellows, thumb bone part that looks like a chicken leg lol? Disorientation by Katie Mack
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r0-boat · 26 days
Note
Can I get a mcfuckin uuuhhhhh yandere Elliott from sdv getting pussy drunk? Whether that's just eating reader out or can't stop fucking them is up to you, I just have a need 🥺👉👈
-🍜
Yeeeeeeee
My God Elliot my first husband my love.
There is a yandere Elliott mod that I love with all my heart I will be using this as a basis!
(if you don't know there's a part in the mod where he kidnaps you and keeps you how arrested in your own farm if you try to leave the farm you'll get a cutscene where he pretty much tells you that you're 'very sick' and you need to come back)
Okay without further ado
Yandere Elliott x AFAB gn!reader
Drunk off your pussy
Nsfw
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He insisted on carrying you back to the cottage in his arms. Elliot had been so busy with his next book that he had not noticed that you snuck out of the house on your own. He'll have to watch you more closely from now on.
Looking at you now, even with your heaving breaths, your chest rising and falling, your eyes red and wet with tears as you cling to him. It was hard to stay mad at you as much as he wanted to bend you over his knee and make your ass red for disobeying. He spent so many nights without you and his arms and underneath you; seeing you like this just made it harder even to consider punishing you for your actions.
To your surprise, instead of being over his lap, you lay gently on the bed. Elliot, instead of a look of disapproval, it was a look of hunger.
"You disobeyed me, my dear, normally I would punish you like I always do...but I've decided that perhaps I should... Change my methods of punishment." He purrs, licking his lips as he begins to roll down your pants, taking your underwear with it.
Not wanting to make your husband angry or change his mind, you submissively obey. Spreading your legs sweetly for Elliot.
He hums at the sight of your pussy; It had been so long since he had you like this. Maybe that's why you ran. Was it was all just for his attention? "Don't worry, my sweet, I'm here now." Elliot murmurs, his smile morphing into a crazed one. He spreads your lips apart. You felt a hot breath against your cunt before his wet tongue slid inside you.
Tasting your sweet wetness for the first time in a while He shutters.
"mmh, fuck! I've miss this."
Normally your husband would make moments like these more romantic whether it be candles around the cabin too rose petals in the bed, but. You did not deserve these pleasantries.
"No! Spread wider. Don't make me get the spread bar again. If you won't part these legs, then I will make you."He smiles.
If you were going to run away and flirt with some other man like a whore then you were going to be treated like one. Right now you are not his perfect beautiful spouse. You were his play toy pet, writhing and moaning underneath him your hand gripping his hair Your body fighting on whether you should push him away or bug against him. You had your answer You want pleasure struck like lightning feeling his fingers slip inside you in his mouth curl around your clit. Elliot knew all the best ways to pleasure you.w hat kind of husband would he be if he didn't know how to make his precious spouse cum? With him suckling your clit and his fingers working your sensitive spot inside. You tried to stifle your noises. Which made your husband frown.
"come on, my sweet, let me hear you."He begs, his eyebrows furrowing as he kisses your inner thighs.
He plays with your clit in a way you cannot resist and his fingers pick up their pace slamming knuckles deep inside you every tense of his arm.
You tried to close your quivering legs, only for Elliot to remove his hand and mouth only too strike your cunt with his hand after prying you open. Youre loving husband striking you in any way stunned you. He was sorry to hurt you like this, but if you do not listen, there'll be more where that came from.
As he feels you get close, he removes his fingers, replacing them with his eager tongue, not before licking them clean, not wanting to waste a single drop of your delicious cunt
his thumb pressing against your swollen throbbing clit.
"I miss the taste of your cum on my tongue. Are you going to be good and give it to me? Do I have to ring you out for every last drop you have? Hm?" Elliott purrs, dragging his tongue across your wet lips.
To wasted no time diving his tongue inside, brushing his nose against your clit as he licks and sucks you out like a starving man. Feverishly trying to spread you even wider, pressing your hips, making you grind your cunt against his face. You arch your back cumming on his tongue, and he rides out your orgasm moaning and bucking his own hips as he drinks every last drop of your cum.
His mouth glistens with your juices as he parts from you. His tongue lulled out, and his eyes glazed over with lust and bliss. He thought he had his fell as you tried to squirm away. He holds you down, nuzzling against your inner thigh.
"Where do you think you're going, beloved? We're not done. This is a punishment, remember?"
"I will eat your pussy; I'll make you flood my mouth over and over till You're too tired to even move from your bed tomorrow. Maybe then you'll finally stay put."
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allysunny · 3 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
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For the Better
“You light up even the darkest of days” + “Please don’t leave me” + Kiss on the lips x Bale!Bruce Wayne
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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onlyjaeyun · 4 months
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can i talk my shit for a moment?
i've been thinking about enhypen a lot, i actually do on a daily because i have a problem but that's a story for another time, and every time i think about certain types of "engenes" i get so, so mad and just as sad and frustrated because we're literally witnessing the way enha as a whole are slowly losing the recognition and attention for their talent because the focus is slowly shifting towards their visuals and their fan service.
i can't even explain why this makes me so mad and maybe i'm just a baby engene who's a little sensitive and protective but it's just so frustrating to see people praise enha for their visuals and fan service only when they're so, so much more.
don't get me wrong, PLEASE praise your fave for their visuals, they're the hardest on themselves and the kpop industry is so visual focused, it'll do wonders to their self confidence and esteem to hear how much their fans love their looks and styles and visuals.
it's the fact that at this point i barely ever see anyone praise any member for their actual talent. maybe i'm on the wrong side of the fandom but whenever the boys are done with a performance, they go viral for their visuals and not the actual effort, energy, time and attention they put into that performance.
seeing the comments being full of people who only praise one thing about the members is just so..heartbreaking considering just HOW hard they've worked to be where they are.
they have received titles during i-land and are still standing up to those and the high standards everyone has set for them, so seeing their fan service being what gets people into the fandom makes me so sad.
heeseung is a fucking ace, mans can sing, dance, produce, rap – he's literally known for his immense talent yet his biggest headlines somehow always included his visuals, especially with the whole nose implant shit. yes, his fan service is top tier but he's more than that short flirty moment and i hate seeing people praise him for it.
jungwon keeps on showing everyone what a good lsader he is, that he actually deserves his title as the hidden ace but people never ever give him credit for what matters. that guy loves his fans so, so much he spends hours on weverse to chat and respond and always updates us on what's going on. he's so csring and sweet and yet ever since he's become an adult its yet again, just about his looks.
i don't even wanna talk about sunoo because his situation makes me SO mad in a way i can't explain at all. that fucker is so fucking talented and so gifted, he's literally worked his ass off all these years just for people to go around and go omg he's so pretty!!! and that's it. he's not just your little mlm projection since most engenes love to label him as such, he's so much more and deserves to be treated like the talented idol he is.
sunghoon is also of that category because tell me why people have made his visuals hs only personality when he literally was told he was born to be on stage. every single performance, every single song, every single tour night he gives his everything because he knows he's good but he wants to show the world that he's more than a pretty face. i wish people would just see his talent and dedication for once instead of his eyebrows.
jay is also a topic i dont even wanna talk about anymore because the treatment he's been receiving all these years from his own "FANS" is so embarrassing and heartbreaking. i have never, ever watched a performance where that fucker didn't give 150% of his energy and power, his dedication is so impressive and something to admire. he's not just your fashion icon with a pretty face and a sharp jawline, i might upset some of y'all, but he's just as much of an ace as heeseung to me and i wish people saw that.
riki literally left his home country when he was a child and was called the dance prodigy, became a member in the official line up at the age of 14 and yet people will literally do nothing but praise his visuals. that fucker came okt of his mama dancing and people dare to argue whether or not he's as good as engenes make him to be what the FUCK? ppl need to stop focusing on his face and actually look at him as a whole when they watch him bc how could we ever argue about his talent???
jake had a dream and an opportunity and that fucker took. it. he literally only trained for six months and now his dance challenges with other idols are some of the most viewed ones on social media. he's a pretty face and the biggest flirt ever, he loves his dans and doesnt hesitate to show it but i wish people would actually see how hard he works and how far he's come. he was never bad but he's literally at such a high level right now when it comes to his skills and stage performances, i feel like people just love to ignore that aspect of him bc of his intense fan service.
i can't believe i spent 10 minutes writing this but its been on my mind for so long and i really hope we as engenes can actually sit our asses the fuck down and start showing those boys and their talent the love and appreciation they deserve. they are a group of visuals, yes. no doubt. but they were also chosen to be in this group bc of their talent and their skills.
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curvykittyyssmutfics · 3 months
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Dad's Best Friend ft. Kishibe
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dbf!Kishibe who's been your father's bff for over 25 years and loves you more than anything in the world: Coddles and shows you a gross amount of affection, like you're not a whole grown ass woman. Let's you plop in his lap evertime he comes over for a drink, ignoring your father's taunts bout your neediness. Dark eyes glued the tv, absentmindely rubbing circles on your back as you nuzzle into his neck. Ignorant to the sheer will it takes you not grind onto his soft cock. "Okay there, sweets? You keep squirming.. Won me ta hold you closer?" You nod, warmth spreading through your body when Kishibe tightens his embrace.
dbf!Kishibe isn't big on conversation but thinks it's adorable how you ramble on about any and everything to him: Just random shit. From your favorite celeb gossip to simple girl talk, you keep his attention for hours. Only his girl can get him caught up on the most recent trash reality tv shows that he never intends to watch. Unless you ask him to of course. Kishibe lends a honest ear, asks questions, and provides commentary when needed. "Baby, I can't be the only person you got to talk to right now. Its 2am. Know I have work early in the mornin." He groans from his end of the phone. "Yeah, but I haven't seen you inna few days. I miss youuu. Wanna hear your voice." Kishibe sighs. He knows that's only a half truth. Also knows he won't be gettin off the phone anytime soon. "That right? Think you just wanna tell me what happened on the next episode of.. What was it?" He teases. "It's called Baddies! See? You never listen!" Kishibe rolls his eyes. "Uh huh. That must be why you on my line right now. tsk. Go on and tell me what happened on ya lil show before I go to sleep on yo ass." "Okay, okay! Geez.."
dbf!Kishibe has always treated you like his princess, but you're older now, and very aware of his Queen treatment: All begins when he notices you real down for a few days. Doesnt wanna pry so he starts wakin you up to compliments and affirmations through text. Even as a man of few words, he thinks it's important you know how smart, kind and pretty you are. You're worth simply can't be measured to Kishibe, and he needs you to understand that. Doesn't care if your dad's around or who hears how special he thinks you are. "Fuckin aced my exam!" You exclaim one late afternoon, slidin through the kitchen after gettin back from uni. Kishibe and your father wait for you, posted at the breakfast bar. Kishibe arms squeeze tight inna hug while your dad opts for high five and small tickle to your side. "So fantastic, sweetheart! Knew you could do it. Always been too smart for your own good." Kishibe chuckles at your pout. "Know what? Let's go out. We gotta celebrate our girls milestone." But your dad scoffs. "Milestone? It's just a test, Kish. She takes em all time." "Dad, it's not just a test. I studied hard as hell for this one. It's a large chunk of my grade." Kishibe slings an arm round your shoulders, holdin up your exam papers before chiming in again. "Come on, old man. She passed with flying colors. Our girl could be a doctor or some shit. Never know. I say she deserves some special treatment." "Then you take her. Work drained all this old man's energy. I'm goin to sleep. Great job again, y/n. Proud of you." With a kiss to your forehead, he's off to bed. Kishibe doesn't let you wallow though. Pulls you in close to whisper in your ear. "Three's a crowd anyway, sweet thing. Go put on somethin black and tiny. Let's go do somethin fun tonight."
dbf!Kishibe only pretends to be oblivious to your little crush on him: He doesn't mind his gorgeous girl's longing stares or subtle flirting. Teases the fuck out you by purposefully acting clueless. Wants to see how far you'll go with your little infatuation. And it's a full time job. So Kishibe finds any reason to sleep over whenever he can. "Babygirl?" He calls for you naked and wet through the cracked bathroom door. "Bring me my towel, please. Left it on the bed." You comply, not realizing the treat you're in store for. Jaw dropping seeing his pretty dick for the first time. It's not hard but it's still so thick. A nice medium toned flesh colored shaft, mushroom tip dark pink and flaring wide. Its fuckin perfect. "H-here.. Here you go." "Thanks." Kishibe takes the towel, sexy grin appearin how your gaze never wavers from his cock. He's startin to stiffen- and drip more than water from your lusty stare . "Careful, honey. You're wakin the beast. Can't do that when your dad's around."
dbf!Kishibe loves to spoil you rotten: Takes you shoppin, gets your nails and hair done, puts gas in you car. Whatever you desire is at your finger tips. All you gotta do is flutter your lashes and pout your full lips and Kishibe is bending to your every will: "The fuck you need this for?" His words a nasty growl when you interrupt him workin on your dad's car to shove your phone into his face and show him a skimpy lavender lingerie set. "Thought you said pretty girls deserve pretty things." You whine, stomping your foot when Kishibe scoffs and bends under the hood to resume his task. "I'm not buyin that shit for you to show some lil fuck boy in your class, y/n." How dare he! You were absolutely repulsed by your first taste of fuck boy and only have eyes for him. "Not for anyone, Kishi. Just thought it would look good on me. Don't you?" He glances up, eyes raking over every inch of you. Fuck yeah, he does. Plus, Kishibe just can't take the soft vulnerable face you put on once he meets your gaze. Or the thought of that flimsy scrap of lace wrapped round your frame. "Fine, y/n." He takes his wallet out and tosses it to you. "You better get one in my favorite color- nah. Scratch that. Get one of each. And do same day shipping. I want a picture of it on you by tonight."
dbf!Kishibe does random pop ups when your left home alone for extended amounts of time: Knows your father works hard and promises to take good care of their little girl when he's away. Though this time, you don't expect him anytime soon since Kishibe texts he'll be comin by late tonight. When he finally does arrive, his idea of surprising you with your favorite dish doesn't quite go as planned. He let's himself in with the spare key and tip toes to your room but your not there. After a quick search, he finds you in the guest room and is stunned into silence. You're tangled in the sheets on your hands and knees, hardly covered in that damn pastel purple scrap of lace, slowly fuckin your puffy chocolate puss with a pink dildo. Clearly you hadn't washed the covers from Kishibe's overnight stay the way you inhale them, arch deepening and puttin your most delicate areas on display to his greedy gaze. The little show you put on has his girth raging stiff for you in record time. "Uhn! Oh, Kishibeee! Uhh, uhh, uhh! Stuff me till I can't take it. Need your fat cock to ruin me, Kishi!" His ears burn hot listening to you as he stares intently between your beautiful brown thighs, mouth watering for a taste. Swollen cock won't stop twitchin, precum already drippin in anticipation. "Yeees! Feed this pussy that dick, give it to me! So fuckin wet for you, know it'll slide right in." Your brows pinch, nose scrunching as you fuck yourself a bit quicker. Little puss drooling from the stretch, squelching loud from the swift pumps. "Wish you were here.. Ahh! Don't wanna -mmm- wait anymore. Want you to h-hold me down.. Fuck me like onahole, Daddy!" The fuck?! Kishibe groans quietly at your slutty pleas. Fuck, you're askin for it. His dick throbs widly from how feral you're behaving, even though the dildo's barely half way in. "Ohfuh- Kishibe!Fuckfuckfuck! 'S so big, splitting me in half! Fill me up just like that.. Haah, so close! Gonna cum so much, Kishi!" Kishibe's mouth drops open, grip on your dinner involuntarily loosening a bit as his groin pulses intensely. He's stuck frozen in place, totally entranced, ready to burst at the seams from the erotic visual. "Yeees.. Oh God, gonna wet up that big dick.. F-fuck me, Kishi! Fuck this pussy till I cum, make it yours Daddy! Ohmy- cummiiing! So good! Haahshit! Feels so fuckin goood!" Witnessing you gush all over your toy and sheets is his demise. Kishibe's gotta bite his bottom lip to muffle his grunts as he nuts. Pent up cock spurting cum like a fire hose as he watches you shiver, swearin and callin out to him while you fuck yourself into overstimulation.
dbf!Kishibe can't stop his dick from chubbin when your in his presence anymore, so he spends less time with you: It's always been a challenge to look and not touch but how can he do that when he hears your beautiful filthy fuckin sobs of his name ringin in his ears 24/7? The image of you cummin ingrained in his mind so fiercely, he's officially rubbed his dick raw. Thinks his hiatus will save you before he does somethin he can't take back. But then you show up on Kishibe's doorstep, hair inna messy bun, dressed in one of his old hoodies and the tiniest pair of jean shorts he's ever seen. Pretty y/e/c eyes rimmed red and teary as you yell at him for ghosting you. "..so what, replace me that fast? Can't answer my calls or texts? At least coulda responded to my fuckin email- I begged you to tell me what I did wrong! You're a fuckin piece of shit, Kishibe!" You tire yourself shoutin and bangin on his chiseled chest. End up right back in his lap, on his couch this time as he tries to console you. "I know sweetheart, I'ma fuckin jerk. Asshole like me don't deserve a perfect girl like you. Didn't do anything to me. How could you? Ain't nothin a sweet thing like you could do to push me away, you know that. Its.. It's all my fault." "Then why, Kish? Why'd you leave me? Told me.. Told me I'm you're favorite girl, that you'd always be here for me. So why can't you just tell me what's goin on? I don't get it.. Or at least my dad. He's your best friend." Kishibe sighs, shakin his head. "Yeah, I know that. But how in the hell do I tell my best bud that I watched our girl fuck her own brains out while screamin for me to use her like a onahole? Hmm? And that I actually almost did. Was two seconds from pushin your head into the sheets so I could breed that inexperienced lil pussy all night long." You tense on his muscled thigh for the briefest of moments. "Had to stay away, y/n. I went too far.." The fuck he did. Didn't go far enough. And how could you not realize he saw the lewd display? Even with pretendin to arrive a good while after, he couldn't take his gaze from you the entire evening. Finally.. At last it feels like your advances are gettin you somewhere. "And?" You stand up, lookin down on his fine ass. "And? Wha- ... Fuck you mean and?" Kishibe stares up at you incredulously, tongue swipin over his bottom lip when his eyes do a swift dart to your smooth mocha thighs.
"Did you really think we'd just endlessly flirt forever? Geez Kishi.. Don't make me have to spell it out for you. Supposed to be this big strong smart devil hunter." You pull off your hoodie, revealing your bare chest. Undoin your bun, messy 30 inch waves tumble down your shoulders and back. "Y/n, baby, wait. Let's talk bout this." "Looks like you wanna do more than talk, Kish." Fuck, your right. Kishibe's so fuckin hard. Even though that should be impossible after how much he's nutted to you these past 2 weeks. But your tits are so damn pretty and he really wants to play with the cute cherry piercings dangling from your stiff dark peaks. Still, Kishibe attempts one last play at 'the good guy' when you go to push down your shorts. "Don't." It's a weak protest. "Please, babygirl. Don't do this.. I'm only a man." Your bottoms hit the floor as you giggle, pussy clenchin at his dick visibly beatin against his slacks. "And I'm a woman, Kishibe. Your woman." He groans a low "Fuck yes." fists balling when you crowd him, settin your painted toes on the edge of the couch; the angle spreadin your glistening cocoa cunt for him. "You know.. Lately, you don't listen to me very well, Kishi. And we've both know I've always been very concise about my wants and needs." Two fingers creep to move in and out of your hot lil snatch, free hand fisting at his short blonde tips as you effortlessly fall into a slow deep rythym. "So I need- mmm.. Need you to listen like you used to.. You can do that for me, yeah?" Kishibe's dying to replace his digits with yours. Swallows hard watchin you scissor your fingers before strokin your coochie a bit quicker. The generous amount of slick provides a nice wet plap plap to fill the air. "But you hear me now, right Daddy?" Fuck it! He can't fight against it anymore. Lips dam near teleportin round your poundin clit, eyes closing in bliss as he nods and nurses your sensitive nub. "Kishibe!" His big hands grab your ass and hold you against his incessant mouth, dick ready to buss from your shrieks and the taste of your creamy cookie. Yeah, Kishibe hears you all alright.
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Hugs, Massages
Summary: It's been a terrible day. But you know who can comfort you best? Your boyfriend, Will.
Genre: fluff
pairing: Will Poulter x female reader
Warning: language (cursing), suggestive
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It was a rough day.
Work was a bitch -- when is it ever not -- but today took a toll on you. It was much harder than other days, and you just want to crawl in a hole and cry.
Will knew it was a bad day just from the way you closed the door. Quiet, slow, unannounced. Usually you'd go in the bedroom to find him, but this time you immediately went to shower.
Closing his book, Will picked up the bag and coat you left on the kitchen counter and put it where it belonged before joining you in the shower.
He was careful, not wanting to interrupt, he just wanted to comfort you.
He took his shorts off before getting behind you, kissing your shoulder. "Hi," he said softly. "want some alone time?"
You shook your head, wrapping his arms around you.
He kissed your neck before lathering his hands with your favorite soap, massaging your shoulders, your back, your arms..
"Nothing I ever do is good enough for them."
Will knew you meant your bosses.
"I work my ass off for this project.. put down ideas, developed them, worked with other people... only for them to shut it down, put their ideas and want me to do those instead." You chuckled bitterly. "So much for a free, creative space."
Will helped you rinse your hair, listening to all your complaints while he's at it. After showering, he then went to make some tea while you dried your hair.
He knew during nights like this, you didn't want to talk much. You just wanted him there with you, holding you, and that'll let you know everything will be alright.
The mugs were on your bedside table, next to it was Will's book and your favorite eucalyptus candle. He really knew how to help you relax.
A smile slowly crept up to your lips and you felt a pair of arms embrace you from behind.
"There's that beautiful smile."
"Hi," you whispered.
"Hi," he whispered back, kissing you gently. "Want me to read to you?"
You both settled on the bed. You rested your head on shoulder, holding your hot tea, while Will took his book. He was reading Albert Camus's L'Étranger, a philosophical fiction about life, existence, one of the classics, you'd say.
A few sentences in, Will stopped reading the book. "Probably not the best book for this."
He put the book down and turned to cuddle. You left your tea on your bedside table and succumbed to his warm hug.
"You're such a perfect boyfriend." You complimented.
His hand rubbed circles on your back. "I literally just burnt dinner last night."
You chuckled, "That was a little funny."
Will kissed the top of your head, pulling you closer.
"Your bosses are stupid for not recognizing your dedication and talent." He continued, "I'm sorry they're not treating you the way you deserve to be, but I'm here for you. Every step of the way."
"Thank you." You kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you too," He smiled, "Now lay back, and let me give you a massage."
"Ooh," you smirked, "what kind of massage?"
Will smiled slyly, kissing your knees and thighs before sending a wink your way. "Any kind you want."
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Hello hello everyone!! Long time no see :) I've had this frans in my head for YEARS...I started the character design sheet last year (or was it two years ago?) but recently decided to get off my ass and finish it! So here's a product of hard, August work!
I'm kinda sad to see so many of my frans peers gone, but I hope they're doing well! While I probably won't be some huge online presence going forwards, I'm still excited to support the new gen while I can!
ANYWAYS!! This is my interpretation of HT frans! (og creator @/horrortalecomic) that takes place around a decade after Frisk's escape from the underground. Their life kinda goes downhill fast though, as the combined survivor's guilt, insane trauma after battling the horror known as Omega Flowey, and the sheer lack of a support system just kinda destroys them in that period of time. I won't dwell too much on that time period, though! After moving away from the og Mt. Ebbot city, Frisk gets their fresh start, regularly going to therapy, taking their PTSD meds, managing a pretty popular bookshop downtown, and living with their super supportive roomates!
...And then the monsters are freed, which does throw Frisk into a whirlwind, but after a year or two they feel pretty safe. No monsters seemed to have moved to their city (especially since the monster population is significantly smaller than it was before), so everything would be okay. Until that fateful day...
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here they are! fyi frisk's skin, eye and hair colour (except for the blonde streaks) apply to all my frisks now!
I'll add some info here i couldn't fit in the tags! -> They have a fun coworker dynamic where Frisk does NOT know he doesn't remember them so they're constantly walking on eggshells around him.
-> Frisk: Oh god he's after me he followed me for revenge but I deserve it oh god he's so mad at me
-> Sans: wow my manager is so kind and pretty and fun :)
-> Also sans is going to therapy, specifically to treat his memory problems,, so we don't know how long his positive view of Frisk will last...
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levilaughlove · 2 months
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☁️► Heads up : M x m romance, cheating/disloyalty, mentions of emotional abuse, manipulation & gaslighting. Reader is taller than Levi by 3 in. Mentions of mental breakdowns & indecent language & ofc, smut.🗞 > Chapter 2
You woke up in a familiar bedroom. It's Levi's. You have a warm cloth on your head, the room has a heater set to a comfortable temp, & the smell of a vanilla candle was just enough.
"Welcome back to Earth." Levi says sarcastically, looking at you. The memories of how you got here flood back & your eyes water in anger & distress.
"You just got better. You were in bad shape..." Levi says cautiously as if he wants to add to that. "Go on..." You say, not breaking eye-contact with his unusually nervous person.
"You don't have to tell me now — or at all if you don't want to, but, what happened? That's the worst I've seen you.'' Levi asks, trying to keep an unbothered suit but the concern was there. You finally break eye contact and let out a tired breath. "She lashed out again. She waited for me in the living room." You stopped, not wanting her to seem more bad than she already is.
Silence rings through the room before Levi speaks up. "There's more to that. I know you, what else?" He says sternly. You stay silent.
"You shouldn't feel obligated to save her ass every time. She fucked up her reputation herself, you didn't do that." He adds. All you do, is nod in agreement but didn't audibly agree. "Also..."
"I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. Was it a bad time or was it the heavy ass rain?" Levi asks, curious. "No she, she smashed it. My phone that is...that's what triggered the panic attack. It was just so loud."
You reply ashamed. You felt childish for the confession but it was Levi &, you confide in him. Levi looks at you with anger, but you know its not directed towards you. "That bitch, it pisses me off and i've never even SPOKEN to it." Levi glares, lost in unconscious, angry rambling.
Levi stopped, realizing how awkward it was for you. "I.." Levi began.
"I just want you to know, I'm not one to be sentimental or whatever the shit..." He continued, a tad bit embarrassed. "But, I care about you, so much. She's a cunt for how she treats you..you deserve much better. Even if it were for a minute, y'know, I could treat you better than she could in 7 centuries. I can treat you better." Levi uttered.
You were stunned, it was like a confession but you weren't sure if Levi had quite registered that he basically confessed his feelings about you. "Levi..." you murmured, an unexplainable joy rises in your chest.
Levi is looking down to his slightly fidgeting hands. He hasn't found the courage to look back up to you just yet. A hand sneaks under his chin & raises his head to meet your face once again. "I really understand how you feel, i'd love to reciprocate but..she is my wife. I'd be cheating. I don't...cheat." You say.
"One can label you a cheater all they want but more importantly label her a murderer. She killed a bright soul & that is unforgivable. My (M/n)." He said. "Pea."
Your heart dropped into your ass, he remembered. He remembers the best moments of your shared lives. It all made sense to you now. A breath of fresh air. It just. makes. sense.
"I've never said anything like this to anyone before." Levi Says. "— I don't need an answer now... I'll wait for you." he adds.
"Absolutely." You finally answer. "Yes, a million times."
Levi's stone cold expression has a hint of relief. You lean in, connecting your lips together.
"A million—times—Yes." You say in between kisses. He loves the way your lips feel, he has some unspeakable things he wants to do to you but won't say it, of course. Levis hands sneak to your waist, pulling you underneath him.
His hands roam your lower half, ever so slightly teasing your cock through your sweats.
" s-so good, vi. " Levi's face heats up, the way you get him worked up is concerning. You pull Levi closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your manhoods together.
Levi moans & soft grunts in your ear. The friction makes you both hot and bothered, a faint wet spot can be seen on the head of both of your sweatpants. "I'm gonna take such...good care of you, (m/n)" Levi breathes out. "Flip." You obey and turn onto your stomach, lifting your ass in the air. Y'know, easy access. Levi eagerly slides your sweats down along with your boxers at once.
His breathing gets a bit heavier upon seeing your puckered hole, eager to be fucked. He guessed this was his reward for all his patience. You wanted to be filled so bad, never before had you ever had a desire this much. Everything boiled up to a point & you were ready to feel healthy love. Healthy love making.
You look back to Levi, eye full of desperate pleading. "I need it, I really need it, vi'...p-lease..." That sent him over the edge. "Oh, (m/n)."
Levi rammed his cock into your ass. A heat rises into both of your stomachs. Levi leans down & hugs you tight before pulling out and slamming back in. "Oh, hhnn." Fuck, you hadn't felt this much pleasure in a while. You feel his cock roughly pounding into your prostate, lewd fluids leaking onto the bed from your sex. Your cock hanging, the sheets below grazing your slit. Levi's hands tighten on your waist, more near your groin.
Levi listens closely to your voice, paying attention to your arousal. He gets off if you're getting off. "H-ghk! F-fuck Levi.." You choke out. Levi picks up his pace, wet slapping of his groin to your ass, your sloppy hole convulsing around him tighter by the second, driving him closer to orgasm. "(M-m/n) you're—) Levi just barely whispered. Tears fill your eyes once more, eyes low & slightly rolling back, body flushed. You let out a moan of immense pleasure, eyes now shut tightly. Levi blushing intensely at you. He has such a crush on you.
Levi slows his pace as to not overstimulate you.
"K-keep going, Levi.." You say breathless.
"B-but...you just—" "I need you to fill me, as deep as you can, vi'."
Levi breathes deeply before, once again, pulling out & slamming in. Your moans in union sound beautiful, your heads are hot, the bed creaking slightly, wet slapping of your jointed bottom parts, then it happens.
Levi loads into you, holding onto tighter than ever, ropes of cum spur onto you chest, your second orgasm. Levi's cum is much more than if he were to jerk off.
After you both fall from your highs, Levi pulls out, watching his cum drip from your gaping hole. You close your eyes & catch your breath. Levi rests his body on top of yours. After a while, he speaks. "You 'kay?" Levi asks, caressing your hair. "More than okay, we're filthy though." You reply. "A filthy i've longed for, for a long time." Levi murmurs into your ear. A small, content smile appears on your face.
The second beginning of something beautiful.
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runa-falls · 1 year
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scratches and bites - 2
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: Could be a little off-canon for some characters, lots of plot, slight angst, Miguel is an helicopter mom, reader just wants some friends :(
a/n: ok. i didn't realize how much i wanted to put into this chapter so spicy stuff is coming NEXT chapter. promith. i've already written some of it. anyway, i'm glad y'all are enjoying my O'Hara content. I hope this lives up to your expectations lmfao
Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. This is what you've been doing since he swept you away.
w/c: 2.2k
series masterlist | main masterlist
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So being “Spider-Woman” turned out to be harder than you thought. It’s not all swinging from and shooting webs like you imagined. Apparently, there’s a spider-specific physical regimen you’re required to keep up with. Every day. 
You’re almost convinced that you’re being hazed into the spider-verse community because you are yet to see anyone else doing upside-down web squats on a 100-story building. Not to mention the life-threatening training simulations you were thrown into as soon as you arrived in Nueva York. 
“They can’t hurt you, Kid. They’re holograms.” 
“Yeah, that’s what they want you to think O’Hara, but my ass has been kicked enough to prove differently.”
“Alright, well they can’t kill you.”
Miguel has been “training” you for the last few months to become the best Spider-Woman you can be, pushing you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. Though these days, this “training” is actually just him telling Parker to drill you in whatever he thinks will work. 
O’Hara attempted to do it himself for like three days, and it turns out he’s too impatient to take in a spider apprentice or even be in a room where you do anything but exactly what he commands. 
You should’ve expected it. 
Sure, Miguel is a naturally grumpy man, but you swear he has it out for you. He literally tenses whenever you enter the room and makes sure to barely meet your eyes when he’s forced to talk to you.
Actually, ever since you were dropped in the middle of Spider-Central, O’Hara has been ignoring you. Treating you like the plague. Always making the excuse that he’s too busy with things that are far more important than anything you’d ever have to say. As if he wasn’t the one who forced you to come with him in the first place…
It’s not fair. He was literally all you had. 
Months ago, he showed you a side of him, the one that convinced you that he actually brought you here for a reason, but now he can’t even look at you. Sure, you’re a particularly slow learner, and one that never really liked PE, but you deserve some slack. You left everything for him – for them. 
Meeting people who’ve gone through similar circumstances as you was quite interesting, to say the least. And it doesn’t stop at people either. Spider cars, dinosaurs, and cats were just the beginning. 
You’ve made a few friends. There’s Gwen, a 15 (or was it 16?) -year-old who mostly talks about her friend Miles, music, and…uh, Miles. It’s sweet how she gushes on about some guy without fully realizing how into him she is. Miles sounds great, really great, but you’ll probably never get to meet him because of the number of restrictions placed on your watch. Fucking O’Hara and his parental controls. 
Gwen is cool, she plays the drums and can do a bunch of acrobatic things that you’d never even attempt, but she’s also almost a half-decade younger than you. There’s only so much you can talk about before you start getting homesick. Of course, despite her young age, she’s still given more responsibilities and missions than you. If Miguel has one hobby, it would be undermining everything you do. 
“She’s been in the game longer than you have.” He always makes that excuse. 
And you always counter it with: “But I’m older! I can do more than just scream for help!”
“This isn’t a discussion.” That honestly might be his favorite phrase to shut you up these days. “You’ll be called on when you’re ready, Kid.” And that. 
“I am ready. And stop calling me that. I’m not a kid, I’m 20 years old!”
“Yeah, whatever.”
There’s also Peter Parker, your reluctant coach. He’s…something else. Sure, he’s your friend, but he’s more like a substitute teacher and crazy uncle type of guy. Usually, he listens to everything Miguel says, acting like a glorified babysitter, but sometimes, he’s up to bend the rules on some things.
Once he let you visit his dimension, claiming you’d need some real-life experience as a “friendly-neighborhood spider-woman”. You spent that day chasing down petty robbers and helping old ladies cross the road. Sure, it was a small field trip, but that was only the third dimension you’d traveled to at the time. 
Parker is also always trying to get you to hold his daughter whenever she comes to work claiming that “it’ll be good for your mental health, trust me.” Of course, for Parker, every day is “bring-your-kid-to-train-the-new-spider-woman-day”. And really, you don’t mind holding her, but not when you’re in the middle of sparing 5 of Doc Ocks tentacles. 
The baby is adorable, but you do worry about how she crawls up the walls. Parker doesn’t seem fazed. Actually, neither does O’Hara. 
Sometimes you wonder if O’Hara wants kids one day. He certainly handles Mayday like a pro, letting her crawl over his shoulders and paperwork. Would he possibl– No, actually, it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he left you. He’s not – couldn’t even be an option. – Anyway…
Parker and Mayday are nice company and the only real constants in your life, but you really just want to be a consistent part of the team. You don’t know how much longer you can spend your days doing swinging drills and spider crunches (don’t even ask). But Parker has actually been your rock these past months, to give him credit. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel like you belonged in this distorted array of spiders and dimensions.
Then there’s Hobie. 
The first time you met him you probably had literal stars in your eyes. Donned with a spiked vest and several facial piercings, he caught your attention right away. He catches everyone’s attention. Even his suit is cooler than everyone else’s with a spiked mohawk that surely gets in the way.
Unfortunately, just as you were hoping to take on the Brit as your mentor for all things spider, he was decidedly off-limits, courtesy of O’Hara. Apparently, his rebellious nature and brash energy make him a “bad influence”. 
“Seriously? You should be glad that I’m taking a bigger interest in my training.” You have your hands posted up on your hips, trying to make yourself look bigger than you actually are. Damn, O’Hara and his domineering presence!
He rolls his eyes openly, genuinely already done with the conversation. “Yeah…your ‘training,’ sure.” 
“What is that supposed to mean!” You practically whine it out.
“Don’t get distracted gatita, just do as you’re told.”
“Ok, what does that mean? I don’t speak Italian.”
“That was Spanish dumbass.”
Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with him anyway (though he’s not around as much anymore). Who knew making friends as Spider-Person would be so hard. You’d think you’d have a lot in common with everyone around you, but really, you’re all alone. Sometimes you think the spiders actually resent you deep down because you’re the only one that has never lost anything. Or had anything to lose in the first place. 
For now, you’re just moving through a sea of spiders, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re supposed to be doing here. Trying to figure out why you were chosen over the infinite other versions of you in the multiverse.
So far you’ve been on 2 and a half missions. The half was when you were forcibly sent home and effectively grounded for a week. Apparently, talking to civilians while standing guard is prohibited, even when they’re selling dip’n’dots. What? It was a long ass mission. And it was hot! 
This one is your official third mission. It’s quite simple, in theory. Just travel to Earth-275A, infiltrate a tech lab, pick up some – worryingly volatile – equipment, and go home. Easy. 
Except, it didn’t exactly go that way. 
It’s just you, Miguel, Gwen, and Jess on this mission. You and Jess were placed on lookout duty (you on the roof and Jess on the ground with her bike), while Miguel and Gwen broke in and out of the building. It was all running smoothly, each spider occasionally muttering quietly through the radio whenever their positionings changed. Otherwise, it was silent. And frankly, a bit boring. 
You idly kicked around some pebbles that somehow found their way onto the roof of this tall ass building, sometimes smacking them against the half wall separating you from falling a thousand feet downwards. You were actually dying to get back to HQ because you briefly spotted Hobie talking to Parker and Mayday before you had to go. He’s been quite absent lately, and you want to show off some of the new moves you learned this week.
Then, there was suddenly action. 
A huge explosion surges out the right side of the building that O’Hara and Stacy were infiltrating. That mission plan was not kidding when they described the ‘volatility’ of the shit inside of those supply crates. Deep creaking and smashing objects follow the blast. You watch as the tallest building in the city starts to tilt. Shit, the explosion must’ve taken out some of the support beams.
You hear Miguel yelling your name through your earpiece, as well as heavy breathing and crumbling concrete in the background. 
“Y-yes? Copy–”
“You and Gwen collect the crate and get out of here. I already called for a portal. Jess and I will get surrounding civilians away from danger.” 
“Understood, sir.” You don’t usually call him anything like ‘sir’, but the stakes are high and complete compliance is needed at this moment. 
“Crate is located on the top floor, Stacy is already there waiting for my word.” You briefly shake yourself out, mentally preparing yourself to scale the larger building in front of you.
With a quick fwp, you attach your web to the nearly as tall building next to your target to give yourself some leverage. You jump without even giving yourself time to think about it, tugging slightly at the web, making sure to collect as much kinetic energy as possible. You release the web when you get to the highest point and spit out another web to get you to the top floor of the building. Luckily the blast took out the windows so you could easily enter the floor. 
There, Gwen stands next to a crate with several scientists and guards nicely pasted onto the walls with perfectly placed webs on each limb and over their abdomens. 
“Took you long enough.” 
“It’s been 30 seconds!”
“Relax, I’m teasing.” She shoots out a couple of webs and connects them to the crate. “Here, help me out with this.” You follow her movements, pulling at your webs slightly to get a good evaluation of its weight. Surprisingly, it moves quite easily, almost three inches from your soft tug.
“Why’re we both doing this when it weighs 100 lbs. We have super strength.”
“I dunno, Miguel just gave us the orders. There’s probably a reason. It doesn’t really matter.” You frown realizing you could’ve been down there helping O’Hara save actual lives but instead, you were ordered to assist a teenager on a one-person job. “The portal is opening in a few seconds on the roof of the building behind us.” Gwen doesn’t seem phased. “We can just swing it with us.”
“Isn’t this shit going to blow up if we move it too harshly?”
“Not when it’s in this protective crate.” She steps closer to the broken window, mentally measuring and planning out the escape route. “That explosion earlier was from an open container.” You hum, still torn over leaving Gwen to do the delivery so you can help people get out of the way faster. “You ready then?” She’s been watching you. Clearly, your thoughts are painted on your face.
You nod briefly, “Let’s go.” Together you take each side of the crate and use your other arms to swing yourselves over to the portal that magically appears. This time, that odd purring sound of the portal is completely blocked out by the chaos going on around you. Somehow the building has still only tilted a little bit since the explosion. 
As Gwen pushes the crate into the gateway, you look down at the streets, watching as Miguel and Jess work impeccably together as they save hundreds of civilians from falling debris and the inevitable demolition of the building.
Then you look back a Gwen, who’s ready to head home. Then you look down at them again. 
Then your eye catches on a red sedan sheltering a terrified family that sits under the chaos.
Gwen catches your eye. “Don’t.” 
“I have to.” 
“Migu–”
“Would do the same.”
“--Will mur-der me.” You sigh, but quickly shoot a couple of webs downwards without looking. Gwen has her arms folded, sharing that unamused expression that Jess loves to sport. Her feet are now temporarily stuck to the floor. You’re sure she could get out of it in a second, but you can tell, she’s not going to stop you. “Don’t die.”
Right before jumping off the ledge, you send her a cheesy smirk, “Me? Never.”
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Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @danaeaurelia @reuxxi
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harmshake · 1 month
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Finally watched the Roman Reigns documentary, and here are my thoughts no one asked for or cares about.
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I was surprised the documentary was mostly told in kayfabe and portrayed more Roman than Joe as when I hear the word "documentary," I think of an up close and personal look into an individual's life.
While there were glimmers of his real life and relationships that influenced him and his career, the doc was overall void of who Joe truly is and what he's all about—and I think I know why.
I really enjoyed getting to see the different members of his Bloodline on and off TV, like his sisters and brother. Yet it kinda broke my heart that as much as he discussed "family" as his core value, there was zero mention of Galina and his children. 😭
Yet I believe it's for deeper reasons than Roman protecting his and their privacy...I think we traumatized him, y'all. 😩
Think about it. The Big Dog era. He had his loyal fans, I'm sure some of y'all were, but the overwhelming majority despised this man's push. Me, included. I saw his potential, but like many others, I felt his push was too early when he was so green and unconvincing both in the ring and on the mic.
Of course, he made me eat my words when he popped up during the pandemic to kick ass and take names, turning me and just about everyone into his fan whether it was a love or hate relationship. But that time, that Big Dog hatred? Scarred him. 😭
You can tell during that time, Roman was ready to be the new people's champ and cater to the fans in every way. Give more of himself than he had to to earn our trust and loyalty. But we rejected him in every way and loudly.
He played it real cool in the doc of how that made him feel, but the way the doc kinda skimmed through how he was truly the most hated Superstar at that time kinda makes me feel like it was a deliberate decision to downplay it as nowadays it's irrelevant, he's loved tremendously. But also because I bet Roman wasn't willing to really get into just how terrible it made him feel to be so vulnerable and shitted on year after year. Can't show that kinda vulnerability now as the Tribal Chief and biggest bad ass in the WWE.
Which is why I'm certain it left this doc feeling kinda empty to me. I wanted to see that side of Roman, I wanted to understand him better, not just as a wrestler but as a man. But again, his emotions are 100% his own to share or not...but I believe he chose not to because he doesn't think we deserve it after how we treated him then. 🥲
And that's fair! It just makes the doc feel more like a highlight reel of his accomplishments and less like that knitty gritty view into the inner workings and ups and downs to make a megastar like him.
But anyway! 7/10 for the lack of vulnerability in a documentary, but a 10/10 for Roman and his journey to becoming one of the goats in pro wrestling. ☝🏾🩸
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decolonize-the-left · 2 months
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I just think you're weird for suggesting ai should be an alternative to anything when y'all can't even treat Humans correctly. Like did y'all forget?
The only reason ai exists is so they don't have to pay a fucking human for the same job.
"yeah but I'm embarrassed when I rp"
You should be! It's fucking embarrassing! So what???!
"I can't make art tho"
Then don't!!!
I'm 10000000% convinced that it's privilege that makes people believe that just because you Want something then you should be able to do it or have access to it even when you have No meaningful way of accessing it yourself.
Like when people get pets when they literally aren't even home enough to take care of it so they use those dystopian ass software to train their dogs when they aren't even home. You know the ones that even spit a treat out at them?
Like???? That dog deserves a real fucking person to take care of it and to Spend the Time training it. What the fuck is the point of having a dog if your TV is the one doing bonding activities with it?
It's just for you. The dog's needs are secondary to what you wanted because those needs were inconvenient for you.
AI is no different and the arguments y'all have for it are largely fucking gross.
"I'm too anxious to interact with real people and I'd inconvenience them or something so I'll just use this ai"
Cool so now we're opening up a gate to push care for disabled and mentally ill people off on AI? Cuz you know who Else is seen as too inconvenient to be worth someone else's time?
What the fuck?
And y'all are enabling that "well it's true they would be a bad rp partner."
ITS RP NOT SURGERY WTF ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RN???
Maybe learn some fucking patience? The fuck you mean you'd rather someone talked to fucking AI???
We as a society have FUCKED UP when people are suggesting and enabling AI should deal with people nobody else wants to.
Why doesn't anyone else want to?
Can AI tell you that? Can AI fix that??
The worst part is that AI should be cool. It should be an amazing fucking step forward and instead it's racist and half of y'all act like it's a crutch for having no fucking interpersonal relationships/skills and it's NOT.
I say this as someone who is in fact physically disabled and mentally ill as fuck, okay? I'm not super young either. Like I am, and will continue, to lose my ability to do things and never in a fucking million years will AI be a stand in for a Real Person's talent or skill or help.
Society can't handle taking 30 seconds to put on a mask before they walk out the door and you DONT want me to be upset about all the "helpful" things AI can do?
We wouldn't even need AI if people could afford to go to school or had time to learn to paint or could afford the supplies or had the healthcare to go to therapy or had more people In school to Be therapists or had access to a writing class or-
Hayao Miyazaki was fucking right and more people should be saying it.
“I would never wish to incorporate this technology into my work at all. I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself.”
AI exists because capitalism's very nature is to exploit humans to our fullest extent. Now capitalism doesn't even fucking need humans to create products. We are the product they use to train our replacements.
And this is.....okay with y'all?
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