#charles being so pleased with himself. ok!
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Carlos: "Sharls you're distracting me, man."
Charles: 😇😏
#why did carlos growl like that...... ok calm down#charles being so pleased with himself. ok!#charlos#carlos sainz jr#charles leclerc#miami gp 2024
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KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | leclerc brothers x reader
_______________________
part 1
“Y/N, it’s the middle of the fucking night in Monaco? You better have a good ass reason too wake me up” Arthur groaned at his twin as he groggily.
“You won’t believe it.” She says
“What?”
“THE BENGALS INVITED ME TO THEIR GAME” she says, a sudden burst of excitement ran through her
“Who are the bengals again?” He sighs
“….”
“Oh wait, it’s that one dude you like, what was his name again Joe Burrow?”
“YEAH AND GET THIS, I can bring up to 5 people, so you’re coming and so are Charles, Alex, Lorenzo and Maman” she says excitedly.
“Who says I’m going?” He says, earning himself a scowl.
“You don’t want to come?” She says, “well I mean not really”
“Ofcourse you don’t! I always show up for your events and you never show up for mine” she says, maliciousness lacing her tone.
“Y/N please, this isn’t your event, you’re not walking the runway or attending a premiere” he says, his tone now matching hers.
“Well even if I was, not like you’d show up anyways” she mutters.
“What are you yapping about? You’re being so dramatic, I mean not everything revolves around you okay? Some of us have actual problems” he says giving the final blow.
The girl takes a deep breath to collect her self. All her life she had spent living in the shadows of her siblings. She just wanted someone to show up for her, she remembers her first runway show, she had 4 seats reserved for her family yet when she walked out, all 4 of those chairs were empty, why? Because Charles had a last minute deals with a brand. They called and apologized and Ofcourse she put a brave face on, but only the walls of her room heard the way she cried herself to sleep that night.
“You know what? I’m going to let that slide, I don’t know what’s going on with you but I hope you make peace with yourself, and you don’t have to come, I’ll just ask Charles and Enzo. But anyways goodnight” she says
“Y/N-” Arthur tries to interrupt but she hangs up before he can say anything.
Had she overreacted? She felt a sudden rush of guilt overcome her. She couldn’t help but overthink. Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a FaceTime call from her brother's girlfriend.
"Hey babygirl" Alexandra says, "Hey bae, what's up?" she says propping her phone up on the table.
“Just checking in with you and your man situation” Alex says, her and Charles were in the Maldives, “oh it’s good, I got invited to the bengals game so” she replies, “WAIT THATS SO GOOD” Alex says excitedly, Y/N smiles.
“Do you and Charles want to come with me?” She asks hopeful, “well Charles will be preparing for his race but I can definitely come!! When is it?” She asks, “next week!”
“Oh yeah I can definitely make it!” She says,
“Ok we can fly together!! But I I’ll see you next week love ya!” She says hanging up.
The week came even before she could blink.
“So Y/N you excited?” Alexandra says, and Y/N nods.
When they arrive at the stadium, Y/N is immediately greeted by the bengals team.
“Thankyou so much for being our guest, I’m the head coach Zac Taylor” a man says reaching his hand to which she smiles and accepts.
“This is my friend Alexandra!” She says as Alex also shakes his hand, from the corner of her eye, Y/N could feel a certain pair of blue eyes stare at her, and her cheek flushed more.
She waves to the rest of the team, however the man with blue eyes seems to approach her first. “Hey, my name is Joe, I’m the quarterback” he says extending his hand, “I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what that it” Y/N chuckles shaking his hand which caused him to smile.
“Well if you umm give me your number maybe some time could teach you about football” he says very smoothly, which causes her to get flustered.
“Oh yeah, d-definitely! Here” she says giving him her number as he smiles, “you have such a beautiful smile” Joe says bringing up her hand to his lips before letting it go, “I’ll talk to you later” he says waving before going to get ready for his game. She just stands there in shock wondering what happened.
Alexandra squeals, “I saw that!! Y/N he so likes you” she says hugging the girl.
Y/N laughs and shakes her head, but the whole time she couldn’t take her eyes of him.
joeyb_9 started following you
y/n.leclerc
y/n.leclerc modeling for Dior has always been a dream of mine, so thankful to take this huge step into my career with the most amazing photographers, stylists, and makeup artists🫶🏻
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, joeyb_9, charles_leclerc, and 13,000,000 others
alexandrasaintmleux mami😍
^ y/n.leclerc kiss me rn😍
charles_leclerc alex has been staring at the phone for the past 15 minutes….
^ y/n.leclerc sounds like a you problem bud😪
fan1 NOT JOE BURROW LIKING?!!?!
^ fan2 IK HE NEVER LIKES
joeburrowswife idk I don’t see the hype
^ y/n2fine yet she’s pulling your “man”
rachelzegler welcome to the squad Y/N❤️
^ y/n.leclerc Thankyou rach💕🥹
bellahadid weird way to propose but yes😍
^ y/n.leclerc SHE SAID YES YALL💍👩🏻❤️💋👩🏻
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x sister!reader#arthur leclerc#joe burrow x reader#nfl imagine#arthur leclerc x reader
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You OK? - Charles Leclerc
<word count - 1433>
"OK, this should help your nose," you said, handing a stuffy Charles a steaming mug of peppermint tea, hoping it might clear his nose out somewhat. "But I don't like it," he mumbled, begrudgingly holding the mug in his hands.
"I know you don't, but you're going to have to deal with it," you told him, taking his hand and gently pulling him over to the couch. "Now, I'm going to make dinner while you stay here and get some rest," you told him, pushing him down.
You draped a blanket over him, making sure he was all cozy before kissing him on the forehead. As much as Charles was cute when he was sick, when he got sick, he got sick. And this time, he had a horrendous cold.
He relied on you for everything, whether it be getting him dressed in the morning, to the simple things like getting him a glass of water. It was a hell of a good job he wasn't driving for another week, giving him plenty of time to recover.
"I don't need dinner, I just want you," he complained, pulling his arms out of the blanket and holding them out to you. "You need to eat, Charles," you smiled, dodging him as he tried to grab you. "This isn't fair," he pouted, his flushed cheeks and ruffled hair adding to the ultimate picture.
"Life isn't fair, darling," you smiled, going back to the kitchen to get started on a classic chicken soup. It was a staple for any person who had a cold, and Charles was no exception. You heard a huffed sigh from Charles, as you heard the muffled thud of him falling sideways onto the couch.
After around fifteen minutes, you heard the sound of shuffling behind you. "You OK, my love?" You called out, not turning to look at whatever he was getting up to behind you. You didn't receive a response, you just felt arms wrap around your waist and a head on your shoulder.
"Can you come and sit with me for a bit? Dinner can wait," he sniffled, pressing himself into your back as much as he could. Charles was still wrapped up in his blanket, but he still wasn't as comforted as he could have been with you.
"I won't be long, go and sit down and get comfy," you told him, still setting things into the pot, ready to go on the stove. "But I need you to be comfy, baby" he whined, burying his face into your neck as his breath was warm on your skin.
"I promise, I will be with you once I'm done with this," you said, feeling him grip onto you even tighter. "I'll just stay here until you're done," he said, resting more of his weight onto you. You knew he was stubborn, so you were fine with just leaving him there.
You stepped to the side to grab something out of the fridge, and you heard a groan come from him as he was detached from you for a split second. "Amour, you've gotta tell me when you move," he told, resuming his position of being clung to you like a turtle shell.
"OK, darling, OK," you smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "Left in one, two, three," you counted down, before the both of you took a step left in unison. You felt him smile against your neck, clearly liking the system you had going.
"I'll let that warm through, then dinner is served," you said, spinning in his arms and marveling at the sight of him, all wrapped up in his blanket. "I feel like shit, baby," he groaned, leaning forward and resting his head on your shoulder again.
You could hear how blocked his nose was, and there was nothing you could do to help him. "Do you want a tissue?" you asked as he sniffled again.
"Yeah, please," he nodded, and you went to the bathroom to grab him one. As you took your first step, he grabbed your hand and walked with you. He didn't want to be without you for a second on a normal day, but when he was sick, he got clingy and he needed physical contact with you at all times.
"We can go and sit now," you said, as he took your hand again and you took him to the couch. You allowed him a minute to get comfortable, before sitting down beside him. As soon as you sat down, he wrapped his arms around your waist and resting all of his weight onto you.
"I feel much better already," he mumbled, a dazed smile on his face. As long as he had you, it didn't matter how sick he was or how ill he felt, he would be happy. "I'm glad you do," you smiled, spotting the undrunk mug of now cold tea still sat on the coffee table. You should have known he wouldn't drink it.
"I'm going to go and serve dinner, and I will be back in no more than two minutes," you said, trying to shimmy out of his grasp as it tightened around your body. "I'll be counting, and if you're not back in two minutes, I'm coming to get you," he said, and you knew he was serious.
Well, he was trying to be serious. His reddened cheeks and nose and nasally voice made it hard for you to take him properly seriously. "OK," you smiled, ladling the soup into bowls and bringing it to Charles.
"You were on 115 seconds, so you got away with that one by the skin of your teeth," he grinned, taking the bowl from you. "This is amazing, thank you," he smiled, spooning small mouthfuls of the liquid into his mouth.
"No problem, my love," you said, sitting down. Charles nestled himself into your side again, still sipping away at your soup. When you were both done, you tried to take his bowl to go and wash it up. "Can you do that tomorrow?I just want you with me," he asked, looking up at you with those glassy green eyes that you could never say no to.
"OK, I can do that," you agreed, putting the bowls down on the coffee table and sitting back beside him. Just like clockwork, Charles slotted himself into your side again, and you lightly trailed your fingers up and down his back.
"I really want to kiss you, but I don't want you to get sick," he groaned, tiredly pouting at you. "You can get me sick if you're going to take care of me," you softly chuckled, moving your hands up to his hair, tangling your fingers into the chocolate strands.
"I'll always take care of you, no questions asked," he said as if it were an obvious thing. "But, I don't want my baby feeling like this, so I'll restrain myself," he explained as if it were the hardest task that man could ever complete.
"Well aren't you just a hero," you teased and the both of you giggled.
"I am refraining from kissing the love of my life so that she doesn't have to endure the pain I am in. I am a hero," he laughed, pulling you impossibly closer.
"You are a hero darling, you are," you reassured, kissing the top of his head.
"I know," he chuckled, closing his eyes. Having a cold really took it out of him, and he had been following you around your house like a lost puppy all day.
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a completely blocked nose. Charles, on the other hand, was energized and fit as a fiddle. "You've given me your cold," you grumbled, sitting up in bed as he looked fresh faced.
"So you're telling me I could have kissed you that whole time since you were going to get sick anyway?" he asked, sounding nearly annoyed.
"I guess so," you laughed. Charles never failed to make you smile, no matter how ill you may have felt. Without another word, Charles moves closer to you, cupping your cheek with his hand. He gently pulled your face towards him, you lips connecting in the middle.
"You're going to get sick again," you pouted, wiping your nose with your sleeve as you pulled away from the kiss. "I really don't give a shit," he dismissed, pulling you back in, revelling in the feeling of getting to kiss you again.
He didn't care that he was definitely going to get sick again, and getting to kiss you was completely worth it.
A/N - First off, I absolutely adore this one, and I don't tend to like the things that I write, so this is a nice, refreshing change. Also, I won't be posting tomorrow, Friday or Saturday since I'm away, but there is a poll you can vote on for me here. Requests are open, and I love you lots 💖
|masterist|
#f1#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 x you#fluff#f1 x y/n#formula 1 x y/n#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fluff#cl16#cl16 x you#cl16 x y/n#cl16 x reader#cl16 fluff#cl16 imagines#cl16 imagine#charles leclerc fic
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Hi, I saw you were asking for requests and I thought I'd give you an idea for Max Verstapppen x reader fic. I don't request much so if it's too detailed I'm sorry, you can change anything you want, it's just a scenario I've had in my head for a while. I was thinking about enemies to lovers, grumpy x sunshine (also I'm a sucker for angst with a happy ending) ❤️❤️❤️
Ok, so imagine this: Reader is a new redbull media person/photographer and Max has an instant crush on her but acts like an a**hole cause he can't understand his emotions towards the reader. Other drivers tease him about it. I imagine someone ask why he doesn't like her and Daniel just straight up says "cause he loooves her" and Max gets all flustered. The reader is an absolute sunshine and tries to make him like her, even tho she is hurt by his behaviour. At some point (maybe right before a race or smth) he says something about her and she overhears and is heartbroken and suddenly stops talking to him.
I don't have an idea for an ending except that if you are up to I would love some smut 😂
Behind your walls
Max Verstappen x Reader
Genre: grumpy x sunshine, smut, angst if you squint.
Request: yes and it made me so happy. I hope I did your idea justice! My requests are open (specifically for Charles, Max Lando, and Oscar). Please don't hesitate to send in an idea!
Summary: Max knows he loves you but can't admit it to anyone, including himself. What happens when you over hear something he say? Will he be able to finally be vulnerable?
Warnings: Max is a jerk (blame is on Jos), pining, mentions of anxiety and a panic attack, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving)
Notes: second pov, I got a bit carried away, and I've never written smut before, so figured crossed it's not as cringe to you as it is to me. I think I changed like one or two things about the request but tried to follow it as much as I could.
If you have the chance, please check out my other work. likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I've started posting small snippets relating to my novel I'm currently editing, support for that is also always appreciated.
Masterlist
The following media is intended for those 18 and over. If you are underage, then please don't interact with this post.
Max has never been the best at dealing with his emotions. Sure he’s had his fair share of girlfriends, but all of them ended in confusion and heartbreak because of father wanting him to dedicate his entire being to racing.
So he did the only logical thing and walled himself off. Only having the occasional fling and never letting himself get to attached.
Then everything changed when he met you. Your sweet personality hired to drag him around all of his PR duties.
He'd made several of his PR managers quit. Ironically, not because he was an asshole to them, but because he had a talent for hiding from the press. It drove his managers insane. Redbull hoped that hiring someone warm and gentle was that you could coax him into fulfilling his responsibilities.
Everyone seemed to love you. Wherever you went, smiles followed. You'd even managed to convince Daniel into being productive and out of whatever his next shenanigan was. Not that you minded them, often laughing along with him if the situation arose. And to everyone's surprise, Max did spend more time with the reporters.
This, however, came at a price. For some reason that nobody could understand, Max Verstappen despised you. Or that's what you thought.
Max himself just thought he was doing the right thing for himself. No matter how many delicious coffies you brought him for early mornings. No matter how many of his jokes caused you to laugh. No matter the praises for wins and comforts for losses. Not even the look of admiration and respect you had for him and how he wanted nothing more than to sweep you away from this terrible world. He would not fall in love.
So he became a jerk to you. Giving you the cold shoulder. He always made sparky remarks at your expense. He even went as far as verbally telling you to 'piss off' even though deep down it hurt him too. Yet you still never wavered. Merely brushing it off and going back to whatever you were previously.
One day during a race weekend, Max found himself with Daniel during his downtime. The two of them eating lunch and chatting about life. The conversation was pleasant until Daniel brought up you.
"I don't understand why you don't like her, mate." Daniel chuckled a little, but there was genuine curiosity behind his eyes. Then, a realization hit the Australian. "I bet you love her! Like a crush from a schoolboy!" He announces for everyone in the vicinity to hear.
Was he wrong? No. But Max wasn't going to tell him that.
"You're wrong, mate. I personally find her incredibly annoying." He scoffed. He was also trying to convince himself of this. It wasn't working like he'd been intending.
"Why do you think? She's like the sweetest person I've ever met." Daniel gives a confused look to Max, who is struggling to find a reason why.
He finally gives the Aussie and awnswer. "She thinks anyone will do whatever she wants cause she's so nice. It's aggravating to see people flit around at her beck and call like she owns the place."
Daniel's face falls, a frown now gracing his lips. "Damn, that's too bad, I think you would've liked her if you'd giver her the chance."
It's at this moment that Max felt a looming presence behind him. The grimace if Daniel's face apparent.
"Sorry for interrupting, Christian is looking for you, Max." Came your voice. Not the one he was used to, you sounded on the verge of crying.
You turned on your heels and swiftly left to find somewhere secluded to compose yourself.
You hadn't intended on eaves dropping. You caught the tail end of their conversation as you were walking up. There wasn't much other noise around, and it's not like either male knows the definition of quiet.
Max, on the other hand, knew he messed up. He placed his hands over his face, shaking his head repeatedly. "I am stupid. I am stupid." He mumbled.
After the race that he managed to win, despite a rough start, he found himself immediately looking for you. Then he looked for you from the podium. And again, when it was time to be harassed from the media.
When he couldn't find you anywhere, he decided to ask Christian. He was hoping to get the chance to explain himself. Maybe even opening up a little because you deserved it after what he said.
Christian looked at him skeptically when he asked. "I thought you'd been told. She went back to the hotel. Security found her hyperventilating, so I had Daniel drive her back."
The rest of the day went by in slow motion for Max. Daniel mentioned a couple of times that you had anxiety. He'd mentioned that you are a people pleaser. You just wanted everyone to smile.
He hadn't realized how much damage his statement had done at the time. The guilt is now settling into the pit of his stomach.
He had someone else following him around. Definitely not as nice as you. He knew he'd fallen for you but couldn't admit it to himself. He needed to make this right. He didn't care if you hated him forever, but he wasn't going to let you think he hated you any longer.
Finally he was able to escape the cameras and locate Daniel. "I need your help."
You had spent your time in the hotel watching the race under your blankets and calming yourself down. You wouldn't lie that you genuinely liked Max. He started as an aquintance, but then you picked up on any grain he would give you. Any story he would tell to fill the silence. You wanted him to enjoy your presence as much as you enjoyed his. You knew you couldn't force it, but it wasn't going to stop you from at least being nice. Had you pushed it too far anyway?
Daniel knew about your crush. He said he saw that way you would listen to his long wonded explanations with patience and understanding and new only someone who loved him could manage that.
However, Daniel had also given you a false sense of hope. The Australian said that he saw how Max wanted to make you laugh. How he followed every PR obligation so you could keep your job. He wanted you around, too.
The tears started rolling again at the thought.
It's evening now. You hadn't eaten since this morning, but your stomach had no intention of letting you nourish yourself. Your anxiety over needing to make everyone happy getting the best of you. You hadn't had a panic attack like that in awhile. Even going as far as to dry heave because of the intensity.
You were exhausted, to say the least.
You wanted to sleep, but Daniel had texted, saying he didn't care if you wanted it or not, he is on route to bring you comfort food.
You did your best to make yourself look presentable. Though when you looked in the mirror, you definitely didn't look happy.
The inevitable knock came. You didn't hesitate to swing open the door, ready to be greeted by a cheeky smile.
What you got was a Dutch with a sheepish smile holding your favorite food and some flowers.
"Before you say anything, please let me explain." He rushed out. He needed to, though, since you were trying to close the door on him. Instead, you pause, considering his offer, and let him inside without a word.
He steps in the door. Finally taking in your appearance and the state of your room. Both are in dissaray. You sit on the edge of the bed and patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts.
You'd always been patient with him. Another reason he loved you.
"I'm sorry for what I said."
You didn't want to believe him, but there was a genuine look behind his blue eyes. You don't say anything. Opting to just listen to him instead.
"I know I fucked up." Max continues. His voice shaking more than you'd ever heard. "And I know you may never forgive me for what I've done to you. But I am truly in love with you." He stares at the floor. Anxiety making him cast his eyes to the floor.
You are shocked, rendered completely speechless at the confession. "Why?" Wat the only thing you could get out.
Max sets down what he is holding and finds the spot next to you on the bed. "I know I treated you poorly. I thought that in pushing you away, I would protect myself. But I fell for you anyway."
He inhales sharply. Staring at your glassy eyes. How were you so calm? He felt exposed and vulnerable. "You don't have to talk to me ever again. But I couldn't let you go without telling you I love you."
"I love you too." You whisper. His head snaps up in surprise. Is he hearing things? "I have for a while."
Nope, he definitely heard right. He watches your lips twist upward into a small smile and let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I know it'll take time, but please stick around. Let me show you hard I've fallen."
"It dosen't excuse how you treated me, but I'll give you a chance."
(AN: You can end here if you're not in the mood for spicy things or want to leave it at cute and fluffy... or not. Your choice )
The proximity between you two is so close now. Your foreheads practically touching.
Giving into the intense pull towards you, Max gives in and places his lips on yours. You taste sweet, exactly how he'd imagined. He could already tell he was going to become addicted. "Can I start tonight?" He might be pushing boundaries, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least ask.
He didn't hesitate to kiss you again when you gently nodded your head, yes. Giving him permission to continue for now.
This kiss was much more heated. Both of you hungry to act on all the pent-up emotions you had for each other.
You had one or two partners before Max. You know how to please. So immediately you moved to straddle him. Your inate need to put others first taking over.
It shocked you when Max pulled you off. Suddenly not knowing what to do with yourself. "Tonight is about you." He whispered in your ear. Planting kisses on your jaw as he lays you on the bed. "I'm going to show you how I've fallen for you." Kiss to your nose. "How much I love you." Kiss you your forehead. "And how much I need you." Puncuated by a slow sensual Kiss to your lips.
His lips move against yours with passion and lust. You open your mouth to give him access to your mouth, and he instantly begins exploring.
His hands gently caress the insides of your thighs and run up along your sides. Pulling your shirt up little bits at a time.
Your hand find themselves underneath his shirt. Your fingers are trying to memorize the feeling of his skin.
Max pulls away for you, panting heavily. "Can I take off some of your clothes?" He asks. His voice laced with new found confidence.
You'd never been treated like this. Often take advantage of because you are a giver. You gave constent sure, but this is a whole new level. You nod your head yes again, though looking skeptical.
Max picking up on this stops everything he's doing. "Are you ok? Your face is telling me something different."
"Yes, sorry, this is just a little new to me." You explain.
The shock hits Max once again. "Are you a virgin?!" His mind reeling that he was possibly going to take your virginity and he wouldn't have known.
He's more confused when you start laughing. "No, no! It's just that nobody has treated me so well before!"
"Oh, well if that's the case." A smirk finds its way onto his face as he straps you your shirt, then his. Then he takes your pants, your bra, and finally pauses. Laying kisses to every party of your body.
"I wish I hadn't closed myself off for so long. You're so beautiful. I've wanted you to myself like this for so long."
You pratically moan at his words. "Are you going to finish undressing?"
"What do you not get about me taking care of you." He places a finger over your lips to shush you. You sigh and comply. Letting him take control of the rhythm.
Max is over the top of you. Inching his way down. Sucking and leaving little marks as he goes.
He makes a pit stop at your chest. Gently taking your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. His tongue then finds the other one. Swirling it around, then sucking. Listening to you whimper beneath him.
"Do you like that lovely?" The cockiness in his voice not going unnoticed.
He trades sides with his hand and mouth. Trying to give equal attention to both your tits. His free hand now placed firmly on your hip to keep you still.
When he felt he'd given ample attention in one area, he made his way down lower. He stopped at your still clothed lower half. "Can I take these off you now?"
"If you don't I might cry."
Max has them off seconds layer. Now discarded with the rest of your clothes.
His gaze burns into you. His breathing erratic just looking at you. "Your are the most gorgeous thing on the planet."
You swallow hard as he finds a comfortable position. His head now in-between you thighs.
His finger gently rubs where you need him, and he places love bites to the insides of your thighs. "Glad to know I'm doing good so far." He smiles. His fingers are now coated in your slick substance.
You whimper again. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.
He licks the finger that was previously touching you. Savoring every bit of the tast he can. "Exactly like how I dreamed."
It was your turn to chuckle now. "You dreamed of me?"
"Almost every night. I got off in the morning to the memory."
You want to dwell on his dirty confession, but Max's tongue doesn't let you.
It doesn't take him long to have you writhing. His tounge unrelenting.
His fingers find their way inside of you. The act alone almost sends you off the edge. Instincts take over as you find yourself closer to utter bliss. Your arms struggle to push max away. His arms hooked under your thighs to hold you close keep you from doing so.
Your back arches as you release. Max is slowly coming to a stop as your ride out your high.
Both of you are breathing heavily. Max's fingers are still caressing your hips as you both catch your breath.
Realization hits you. "Don't you need something too?" You ask, voice laced with anxiety over not pleasing him also.
Max only smirks, laying his head against your leg. "I fine, don't you worry. Tonight, we cuddle, and tomorrow I take you for round two."
And that's exactly what you did. Max helped clean you up and put on your pajamas. Then you two curled up in bed together. Him telling you everything he had been wanting to since he laid eyes on you.
You know this road worh Max certainly wouldn't be easy. But you're patient, and you'll wait for him. As long as he needs to let himself fully tear down his walls.
#x reader#f1 fic#formula one#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#fanficion#smut#grumpy x sunshine#max verstappen x you#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#formula 1#f1 fanfic#redbull racing#redbull#super max#orange army#open requests#please request#I have a thing for his tongue#have you watched him speak?#it does things to me#max#maxy#emotional constipation#jos verstappen#i blame him#racing#daniel is the best wingman
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The golden trio Pt 6
Lando Norris x female!reader
Carlos Sainz x female!reader
Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc
Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??
Warning - swearing, crying
A/n - 😌😋
The golden trio
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Twitter
username It’s been five days since Lando was caught kissing that other chick and Y/n hasn’t posted ANYTHING!!
username He has sooooo fucked up mate it’s unbelievable and by the looks of it he hasn’t done anything to apologise yet 😖
username You know I don’t think anyone has seen her leave the apartment building either, like we know Max and Charles are around but they haven’t be looking all that happy
username Yeah cause someone who is practically their little sister has been hurt time and time again!! What do you expect?
f1gossip
Spotted: Y/n L/n leaving her apartment complex with both of her roommates, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
Liked by username and 1,583 others
username Lando fucking Norris you are a fucking idiot 😒
username Oh mate, she looks devastated
username She can’t get a break!!
username Did you guys see Max and Charles though?! They were so annoyed
username I hope the chick is happy, she ruined a relationship 🙄
Max Fewtrell twitch live stream
Twitter
username Anybody watched Max Fewtrells twitch this evening?? Lando??
username You can tell he’s so guilty with himself!!
username Like he was so blunt!
username He had it coming, like you can’t go around kissing another girl whilst you’re in a relationship. It’s common sense.
Text (White: Reader) (Red: Carlos)
Hey, I heard about what happened with Lando I’m sorry
Yeah these things happen, it’s not your fault
Look I have a idea but you can back out if you want totally your choice
Ok?? Go on
So I’ve was thinking if we could date until Lando gets jealous
Oh right…
Please don’t feel like you have to do this tho
Sure I’ll do it, I don’t want to let him down easily
Perfect! So should we go on a date tomorrow night and make sure people see??
Yeah that’ll be a good idea, the gossip instagrams just love to post about me so it’ll spread fast
f1gossip
Spotted: Y/n L/n and Carlos Sainz, former McLaren teammate of Lando Norris, seen on what seems to be a date in Monte Carlo this evening. It has been a few days since Lando Norris, who seems to Y/n’s ex now, was seen kissing another girl.
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username Mr Norris what will you do now??
username She really said get even bitch 😚
~~ Liked by yourusername
username Ooooo more gossip more gossip!!!
username Yk I would sell my kidney to see what is going on behind the closed doors 👀
username Y/n in her reputation era??
username Yk, Idk what to think??
Gossip Groupchat (White: Reader) (Blue: Max) (Red: Charles)
Hey Bee…
Yeah I’d everything ok?
No…
Um Lando is currently stood in our living room, pestering Charles on where you are…😬
Wtf!
Why? Ask him why he’s there!
Seen 2 minutes ago
Yk I don’t like the fact that it’s taking forever!
He is here to apologise, he feels horrible and I think he means it
Well tell him that I am busy and that he should consider this relationship done
Ok soooo he’s gone but
But…?
I don’t think he was very happy that you are completely blocking him out, more angry in my opinion
Look that’s his problem, you can’t go around kissing other girls whilst you’re in a relationship it’s common fucking sense
Ok, what time are you coming back tonight?
Around 9pm, Carlos has a flight in the morning
See you then Bee
Bye guys
Bye Bee
f1gossip
Since Y/n’s date this evening we have noticed that the former couple have both gone and unfollowed each other on instagram and other socials. Maybe the ship has really sailed away.
Liked username and 2,583 others
username Oh Shit!
username So that really does mean��
username No I can’t do this, nope not today 😭
username True love? Yeah no that doesn’t exist
username What do we do now?!?! 😰
username Friends to Lovers to Enemies 🥺
yourusername
But now you’re on your knees while I’m wrapped up in his sheets 😚
Tagged: carlossainz55
Liked by carlossainz55 and 75,925 others
username MISS GIRL!!!
username Karma really is a bitch!
carlossainz55 ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
= yourusername 😋😋😋
username Lando you know this is about you!!!
~~ Liked by yourusername
username Loving this whole thing!!!!!
username She moved onto a real man, not a little boy. Well deserved!
-
Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav @amalialeclerc @eugene-emt-roe @skepvids @ravisinghs-wife @bellaturner @roseseraj
#formula one#formula one x reader#lando norris#charles leclerc#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#carlos sainz#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#carlos sainz x reader#charles lechair#redbull racing#ferrari racing#mclaren racing
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How Sweet It is to be Loved by You - LN4 x reader:
Mars’ Notes: I’ve never ever written anything like this before, but after rambling at @love-belle for a stupid amount of time, i thought why not? surprised it ended up being for lando and not charles but if this goes well i might j start writing a bit more!! anyways, i’m excited, please lmk what you think <333
Warnings: None!! super super fluffy :)
Description: Lando comes home to you, and everything is ok again.
————————————————————
Lando was exhausted. He loved his job, the roaring of engines, the loud shouts that always seemed to accompany the mechanics as they made any pre-race adjustments to his Mclaren, the screams of fans in the grandstands and during fan stages, but god, sometimes all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around your waist, bury his face in your neck and never leave. You were his peace, his moment of quiet in an otherwise hectic day. He missed you, and you were his rock during race weekends. He had spent the last week wishing you were with him and cheering him on from your spot in the garage.
“Lando? You ok, mate?”
Danny’s voice broke him out of his stupor, bringing his mind back to the private jet he was currently sat in, accompanied by the older driver. Just three more hours, and you can hug her all you want, he thought to himself.
“Yeah, fine, mate. Just wondering what’s for dinner.” he said, a smile on his face.
“If you say so” comes the reply, accompanied by a bright, dimpled smile.
————————————
After a hectic run through security and the throng of fans that were waiting diligently for him at the gate, Lando had finally made it home, his hands trembling at the prospect of finally kissing you again as he pushed his key into the lock of your shared flat.
“Lando? Is that you, my love?”
Your voice floated through the hallway, and he visibly relaxed - he was finally home, he was finally with you, and there was nowhere he’d rather be.
“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me. Were you hoping for someone else?” he teased, seeing you emerge from your bedroom, clad only in one of his favourite Quadrant hoodies, and fluffy socks, your hair falling around your face in messy waves, silver wire-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose. You padded over, soft footfalls echoing, until you were stood in front of him.
“Oh shush and hug me, you muppet.”
He closed the gap between you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, melting into you.
“God, I missed you”, he said, his voice muffled by your neck. You giggled and reached up to hug him back, carding your hands through his hair and leaving sweet kisses wherever you could reach.
“I missed you more, love. Would you mind helping me with something quickly?”, you mumbled into his hair, “I know you’re tired, and it’s been a long day, I just think my brain’s gone to mush and I can barely read what I’m writing.”
He lifted his head, and simply smiled at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “That’s what I’m here for, remember? Moral support and grammar police” he said, winking at you in an effort to make you laugh. You looked stressed, and he could tell you had been working away at your essay for far too long already, the pressure weighing heavily on your shoulders. “I’m assuming it’s another essay for class?”
“Mhmm, the professor decided it would be a good time to assign a stupid essay two weeks before midterms.” Your eye roll and answering nod was all it took for Lando to toe his shoes off, leaving his bags and coat by the door before he dragged you back into the bedroom, dramatically flipping into the double bed that occupied the corner, landing amongst the multitude of stuffed toys that had migrated to his side of the bed in the short time he was away.
“Right then, Ms. L/N, get your pretty arse over here and read me this essay.” he said, posing and putting on his best posh British accent, earning a laugh out of you. This was what Lando lived for, these quiet moments of domesticity where all he could hear was your laugh and he could revel in the fact that it was him, him who made you laugh and him who had the pleasure of hearing it.
You grabbed your notebook from the desk you had set up opposite the bed, claiming that you worked better when you knew Lando was close to you, and walked over to the bed, climbing in and placing his head in your lap.
A reporter had once asked him a question along the lines of “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?” He had, of course, answered with the typical “on a race track”, the answer that wouldn’t have the Mclaren PR team screaming at him post press conference, but if he really had to pick, he would say with you. Anywhere with you was where he wanted to be, but he felt so at peace here, in your bedroom, with his head on your lap and your hand in his hair, your voice soft and sweet as you read him the opening paragraphs of your midterm essay.
Lando nuzzled further into your thighs, your nails now scratching across his scalp in a way that made him feel boneless. He could feel his eyes slowly slipping closed, the warmth and comfort lulling him into a peaceful sleep.
———————-
You were three paragraphs in when you stumbled on your words, struggling to understand a sentence you’d written.
“See, that’s the sentence I really don’t get. It just sounds so chunky and I really have no idea how to make it flow more, you know? I know it needs to be technical, it is an engineering essay after all, but it just sounds so hard to read and I don’t know how to make it sound better.”
You waited for Lando to tell you that you’d made a silly grammar mistake, or that you just had to split the sentence in two to make it more digestible, but you were met with silence. Looking down at your lap, you saw Lando asleep, smile painted on his face, a hand placed on your thigh, grip tight as though he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t move.
Lando had come into your life in the most unexpected way you could have imagined - cliché, but unexpected. You’d been waiting in line at a coffee shop, needing your daily dose of caffeine before your 9AM university lecture, and he had walked straight into you, a steaming hot Americano cradled in his hands, which had eventually made quick work of staining the cream bodysuit you had chosen for the day. He’d apologised countless times, turning back to grab a stack of tissues, even going so far as to attempt to rub the stain off, but had only succeeded in making it worse. You’d simply laughed, and told him that he really should go order another coffee, before the morning rush took over. He’d stared at you, open mouthed and speechless, before stammering through an affirmative and walking away. The next 5 minutes were spent throwing glances at each other through the crowd of people occupying the store, before he broke and asked for your number, stating that he at least owed you a new shirt, and perhaps even a date? It had been natural, and felt right from the moment he picked you up at 8 the following Friday, dressed in a suit and armed with roses.
You took one last look at the essay in your hands, and made the incredibly easy decision to call it a day. You placed the stack of papers on the bedside table, shifting in order to reach, only to have Lando grip onto you tighter, a mumble of “stay” escaping his pouted lips. Your heart clenched, and you couldn’t help but coo back that you weren’t going anywhere, my love, go back to sleep. You cleared as much of the bed as you could without disturbing your boy, and leaned back into the pillows you’d stacked behind you earlier in the day, Lando nuzzling further into your stomach, whining until you bring your hand back to his curls. As you shift, Lando reaches out to wind his hands around your waist, pulling you closer even in his sleep. You smile to yourself, and turn the small lamp on the side table off - your boy was home, and everything was alright.
#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#f1 x female reader#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris au#lando norris imagines#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader imagine#lando norris fluff#fluff#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 blurb#f1 fic#f1 fluff#mars.writes
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Something Just Like This
pairing - charles leclerc x reader
fandom - f1
synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.
part - i (part ii)
warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.
a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️
when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"
so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.
when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.
just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.
"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.
"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"
and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.
"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.
you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.
there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.
"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"
"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.
"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out
"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.
the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.
your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.
you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.
as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.
you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.
his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.
"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･
on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.
you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.
it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.
so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.
in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)
so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.
"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.
gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.
but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.
you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.
"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.
and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.
the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.
you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.
before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.
"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.
"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.
and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.
"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.
slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.
Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.
"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.
"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.
"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.
you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.
"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.
you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.
your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.
and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.
"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.
you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.
charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?
the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.
his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.
after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.
you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.
you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.
"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.
"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.
"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.
"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.
"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.
and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.
there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.
but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.
until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?
you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.
and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.
"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'
your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.
you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.
you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.
what you saw broke you.
charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.
your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.
you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.
you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.
later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.
"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.
"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.
"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"
"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.
"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.
there it was.
the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.
"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"
and he chose to take solace in your words.
just like he took solace in your soul.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.
so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.
and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.
p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.
and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.
rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.
"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.
when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.
and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.
when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.
so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.
"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"
"quoi?"
"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"
the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.
"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.
"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.
"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.
oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.
charles' heart ached.
oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.
later that day, you wrote the song feels like.
social media had a breakdown.
charles had a breakdown.
but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.
unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.
this songwriting thing was so frustrating.
it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.
with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.
but the ending caught your attention.
humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.
being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.
'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.
you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.
your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.
and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.
so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.
but you would know.
and so you sent it to be your next single.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.
you were sure the timing was right.
you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.
you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.
"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"
"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.
"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.
"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.
back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.
smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.
you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.
the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.
"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.
"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.
"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.
he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.
"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.
you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.
"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.
"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.
"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.
"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.
"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.
"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.
arthur pretended to be hurt.
"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"
"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.
arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.
"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.
"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.
you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.
and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.
your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.
but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.
"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!
i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.
feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷
hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo
taglist -
everything - @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird @roslastyles420
f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion
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masterlist
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
#Charles Leclerc#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#Charles Leclerc imagines#Charles Leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc imagine#f1 imagine#f1#formula 1#f1 imagines#f1 drivers x reader#f1 drivers#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#cl#cl16
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heyyy hope ur well <3 i looooove ur writing so much it’s amazing! i had a request for bruce if that’s ok 24 & 2 + a book i was reading gave me an idea lol so could the reader be in an unhealthy abusive toxic relationship and falls for bruce who treats her soooo well and loves her soooo much unlike who she is currently with (she could have a reason why she can’t leave her partner maybe she’s so scared) and bruce is there for her always protecting her looking out for her worrying about her spoiling her he he genuinely is in love with her and you can add all ur magic to it and all ur awesome ideas. anyway if it’s not something u think fit ur writing or u don’t have enough time don’t worry it’s totally ok :))))) <3 <3 have a great day xx
For the Better
“You light up even the darkest of days” + “Please don’t leave me” + Kiss on the lips x Bale!Bruce Wayne
Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Words: 22.1k words
Warnings: Abusive & toxic relationship, domestic violence, gaslighting, lying, manipulation, I'm talking really, really unhealthy relationship, angst, bruises and some blood, fluff, angst with happy ending, kissing, I literally don't know how else to tag this, but please read the warnings because this is a very fucked up relationship.
A/N: Hey everyone! This is the last entry for my 200 Followers Event. I want to thank everyone who participated and all those who showed their support. That means the world to me.
Now, oh my god. This is my magnum opus, I believe. It took me a whole week to write this. This fic is the apple of my eye, my baby, my sin, my soul, I would die for this. I think it's my best work so far. I have worked my ass off for this, I really have, and I have no words to convey just how special and dear this fic is to me.
I would also like to apologise if there are any inconsistencies - I started writing it last Monday and finished it Saturday, so it's been nearly a week and I might've forgotten small details as the days went on. I tried to proofread it!
I really hope you guys will enjoy it and cherish it as much as I did. <3
To Bruce, you were the most gorgeous woman in the entire world.
Your eyes could rival even the brightest star in the sky, the sun did not hold a candle to how radiant your smile was, and no flower could compare to your beautiful. You were simply gorgeous, inside, and out.
Unfortunately, you weren’t his.
Bruce had met you during a charity event. Some wealthy couple was raising funds for the Gotham Police Department (even though Bruce did not believe half of them deserved such charity), and he had of course been invited. The couple in question could not care less about philanthropy – they were merely trying to appear that way. That’s Gotham, for you.
You’d been waitressing during the event, carrying trays of hors-d'œuvre and champagne, smiling politely at guests and trying to do your job the best you could. You’d walked by him twice, and although you weren’t really paying attention to the guests (you were far more preoccupied with not tripping and making a scene), he couldn’t take his eyes off you.
He was so mesmerised, that he found himself searching for you whenever he wasn’t talking to anyone else. Sometimes when you returned to the kitchen, he saw you talking to your coworkers, smiling, and giggling about.
After a few hours of being bored to death by patrons with faux smiles and untrue compliments, he was ready to call it a night and return to the loneliness of his mansion – and that’s when you caught his attention.
Or rather, everyone’s attention.
You’d bumped into someone’s shoulder (it was actually someone’s shoulder who had bumped into you) and spilled the tray of appetisers on top of an old man who wasn’t pleased with the situation. The man, who he recognised as Charles Carnegie – a crooked businessman famous for his dabbles with illegal gambling and corruption – yelled at you, insulting you with every name in the book. The man was just about to raise his hand, no doubt to strike you across your face, when Bruce intervened, rushing between the two of you and gripping the man���s arm.
Charles looked up in confusion and his turbulent eyes widened in recognition.
“Mr. Wayne!” he exclaimed, voice dripping with anger, “Let go of me this instant. Did you not see what happen? This foolish girl was not paying attention and spilled her tray all over me. I do not know how such incompetent staff can be hired. Someone ought to teach this insubordinate brat a lesson!”
Bruce’s hold on the man’s arm only tightened. How dare he speak to you like that? You were standing behind him, head hung low and muttering a string of apologies that were barely audible.
“Mr. Carnegie, if anyone here deserves to be taught a lesson, it is you.” He said, eyes narrowing. “Your inebriation and inability to watch where you’re going is not this woman’s fault. If you cannot behave at a public function, perhaps you shouldn’t think of attending. This server is not at fault, and you will apologize to her.”
The older man scoffed and tried stepping away from Bruce’s grip but failing.
“How dare you! Mr. Wayne, this – this – this harlot bumped into me! My suit is ruined, and she has insulted my dignity. Let go of me this instant, Mr. Wayne, or else – “
“Or else what?” Bruce asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, audible only to the man standing in front of him. “We are currently surrounded by the police our hosts were so kind to fundraise for. The entire Gotham Police Department is here, and while I know that most of them are corrupt scum like you, I am also familiar with the ones who would be more than overjoyed to throw you into jail for illegal gambling, embezzlement of funds and propositioning. I can ruin you with nothing short of three sentences, and you can bet that should you not apologize to the young woman standing behind me, I will.”
The colour drained from Charles’s face, and he stuttered, trying to come up with a decent response. It was no secret that the Carnegies were a powerful family. But the Waynes were almost royalty, and everyone in Gotham would rather swallow their whole fist than get into their bad graces. Especially Bruce Wayne’s. Surely, a man who showed up to every social function with not only a new car but a gorgeous new woman on his arm, wasn’t afraid to pull a few strings to get what he wanted – even if that meant ruining someone’s life.
“I – I – Mr. Wayne, how dare you – “
“Apologize to the young lady, or I will personally make sure all your belongings are gone by the time this godforsaken party is over. You’ll be sleeping on the floor before you can threaten me or anyone else again.”
Charles stuttered a few more times, before gulping and nodding. Bruce released his arm, and the man was quick to hold his wrist, twisting it a few times. Who would’ve known the Wayne orphan had such a death grip?
He looked up and Bruce moved out of his way to partially reveal you, yet still close enough to protect you should Charles decide to hurt you further.
“I – I am…” he stumbled over his words, shaking his head. “My apologies, Miss. My behaviour was… It was unacceptable. I am sorry for my lack of attention, and for bumping into you. I hope you can accept my most sincere apologies.” The words sounded scared – not necessarily genuine but scared – and they almost made Bruce smirk.
“It’s alright,” you muttered, eyes still fixated on the floor. “Don’t worry about it.”
Bruce wrinkled his nose at how meek you sounded and looked around himself. The situation had turned rather awkward – people were staring in his direction and murmuring to themselves. So, he did the only thing plausible.
“Ladies and gentlemen, why are we standing here, when the caviar has just been served?” he exclaimed loudly, plastering on his most charming Bruce Wayne smile, which had the guests immediately react, answering with soft chuckles of their own. “Our lovely police force should be honoured the right way – but that doesn’t mean they should get all the good food for themselves!”
The crowd that had formed around you three quickly dissipated, and so did Bruce’s smile when he finally got a good look at you. You were down on your knees, picking up your tray and trying to pick up some of the appetisers to clean up your mess a bit.
“Hey,” he chided softly to get your attention. “Hey, please, look at me.”
When you didn’t, he kneeled down next to you.
That’s when he saw you. Truly saw you.
Your face was puffy, eyes red and wet with tears that you’d tried your best to wipe away. You looked nervous and miserable, and all Bruce wanted to do was bring you close and make you feel better.
“Sir, I – he was right,” you mumbled, shaking your head, trying your best to clean up the floor with nothing but your bare hands and the napkin you carried on your arm. “I bumped into him. You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”
“I saw him,” Bruce replied softly. “He bumped into you. And even if he hadn’t, it did not mean he had the right to hit you. I was not going to let him do it.”
You nodded and sighed, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your arm.
“I caused you all that trouble. I’m really sorry. Shit, I feel terrible. I ruined that man’s suit and made such a mess… Nathan would mock me to hell and back if he saw me like this…” this caused the dam to break, and you wept loudly. Bruce did not really know what to do. What did one do whenever a woman was crying? He’d had a few one-night-stands in which the women cried once they realised he wanted nothing more to do with them, but they usually left by themselves, claiming he was a “heartless jerk”, and that was the rest of it.
He took the napkin from your hands and offered you a reassuring smile.
“If it makes you feel better that man deserved it. Charles Carnegie is a well-known corrupt and needed a reality check. If I could, I would’ve probably done that on purpose.”
This earned a soft chuckle from you, and you stood up, Bruce following right after.
“I’m going to call someone to take care of this.” You said, to which Bruce nodded.
“I’ll come with you.”
“There’s really no need for that, it’s okay – “
“Nonsense. That old jerk might try to follow you and threaten you again. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
You nodded, and quickly made your way towards the kitchen, where you asked for someone’s help. They were quick to reply, and within a few minutes, the whole place was spotless, and no one could tell anything had happened if they looked at the floor.
As soon as it was done, you turned to Bruce and offered him a small smile.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Wayne. What you did back there was very kind. I don’t even know how I could ever repay you.”
Bruce lifted a hand and shook his head.
“There’s no need to repay me. I’m just happy I could help.”
You nodded sheepishly, and extended your hand, telling him your name.
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
Bruce shook it and his hold may have lingered on yours for a tad longer than what would have been acceptable, before tasting your name on his lips.
“It’s a lovely name. I’m Bruce. Wayne.”
“Yes – I gathered. Everyone knows you,” you chuckled.
“Sometimes I wish they didn’t.” He confided.
“I’m not sure that’s for the best. Being invisible has its downsides, I’m afraid.”
You gave him his number, and the two began to talk rather quickly, even going as far as deciding to gather for ice-cream about two weeks after your initial meeting. He texted you, saying he knew of a fantastic ice-cream parlour next to his company’s building, and invited you. You’d agreed almost instantly, replying with a bunch of emojis – and that’s how you found yourself next to Bruce Wayne, eating ice-cream. You’d gotten a lemon flavoured scoop, while Bruce went for mint.
“I was surprised you wanted to meet up!” You said, beaming up at him once you had paid for your sweet treat. Or rather, after Bruce had paid for it. He insisted, telling you he couldn’t possibly let a lady pay. You made him promise he’d let you pay next time, to which he replied, “We’ll see”.
“Really?” He replied. “Why is that?”
“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne. Don’t you have like, I don’t know, a bazillion cars to drive, and a bunch of models to date, and lots of money to spend? Why’d you invite me to ice-cream?”
“I’m spending my money on ice-cream,” he gave you a cheeky smirk.
“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckled and ate a spoonful of the treat in your hand.
“To be honest, my day was going terribly. I needed some fresh air, and you seemed like good company.” He was being as honest as he could. His day at Wayne Enterprises was going terribly, with a bunch of investors trying to go behind his back and steal some of his money. It had been a hassle, but thankfully all had been taken care of. He needed something to distract him from the stress.
“Oh, tell me about it,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “The restaurant today was hellish. It was as if Satan had spawned a hundred different little devil women to make my day worse.” You told him about all the “Karens” that had bothered you, insisting you’d gotten their order wrong, when they were simply too drunk to function (even though it was around midday), complaining about how weird their food tasted, or even going as far as telling you they did not like the decoration. It made your blood boil, but a girl needed to pay her bills, so you sucked it up.
Bruce chuckled at your descriptions of the acts you’d like to perform to those women – none of them very family friendly – and found it rather cute when you decided to deal with your frustrations by scooping a large spoonful of your lemon flavoured ice-cream. You moaned in delight once the soft food melted on your tongue and smiled.
“Nathan would just freak out if he tried these,” you said, “He’s a sucker for good ice-cream.”
Bruce’s brow quirked quizzically. Nathan? The name sounded oddly familiar coming from your lips, but he couldn’t quite tell why. You seemed to notice his expression because you were quick to continue.
“My boyfriend. I’ve mentioned him before, remember? I think I mentioned at the party too.” You hummed and ate another spoonful of ice-cream, groaning once again. “This is good. Really good. Wow.”
“Ah. Yes, your boyfriend.” Bruce nodded. He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed. Sure, he’d only known you for two weeks, and you had told him about Nathan early on (he simply decided to ignore that) but he’d be lying if he said the thought of more than just a friendship hadn’t crossed his mind. It was only natural, and he considered himself to be an efficient man, who went for what he wanted – well, almost. Batman had made that a tad impossible, but Bruce was still figuring it out.
“Mhm!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Nathan and I have been dating for a few years. We’re actually close to four!” You quickly told him how you and Nathan had met, something you surprisingly had not done before. You’d been accompanying a friend of yours to the ER after someone had spilled a pan of burning hot oil on top of her. The Emergency Room Doctor, Nathan Smith, had taken care of her very quickly, but it was on you he had his eyes during the entire appointment. After the both of you had thanked him, and your friend had a bandaged arm, he’d stopped you in your tracks and politely asked if you would give him your number. You couldn’t lie to yourself – he was handsome, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, and a kind smile, and you swore he could’ve been a model if he wanted to. So, you had said yes.
“And the rest was history,” you finished. “We’ve been together ever since.”
Bruce hummed and busied himself with taking another spoonful of mint ice cream to his lips. “I see,” he hummed. “Well, I hope everything goes well with your relationship. He sounds nice.”
“He really is. I love him.” There were stars in your eyes, and while part of Bruce scowled, unhappy with this man he had never met before, another wanted to smile, because you did seem like a lovely girl, and he did want to see you happy.
After that day, you and Bruce became close friends.
He got to know you. You worked a job at a two Michelin star restaurant, waiting tables. That’s how you’d heard of the charity gala gig – word spread around that a rich couple was looking to hire some servers, and you’d applied in the hopes of making a few extra bucks.
He learned that you were a very resilient person, not at all like the way you’d appeared that day at the gala. You’d told him you were simply having a terrible day, with a few costumers yelling in your face during your regular shift. Charles Carnegie doing the same thing at night was the straw that broke the camel’s back and seemed to break you.
He got to know all your hobbies, and the things you liked to do for fun. Learned all your favourite books, the movies you liked to watch when you were down, the snacks you liked to munch on whenever your day went sour. He learned what made you tick, and the things that inspired you. You told him about your family – the relatives you loved, those you were close with, and the ones that simply did not deserve to be in your life anymore.
Every time you disclosed some piece of information about your life, Bruce drank it all up. He wanted to know you, all of you. He listened whenever you complained to him about work, whenever you texted him with any sort of happy news, or when you called him late at night because you felt lonely. It had been so long since Bruce had someone to call his friend, and he loved every bit of it. He knew he wasn’t the first person you came to whenever you wanted to talk. Part of him wished he was your first choice, but he saw the look in your eyes whenever you mentioned Nathan.
And speaking of, he even got to meet said Nathan.
A few weeks after your second meeting, the one where you’d gone out for ice-cream, Bruce decided to surprise you by having a meal at the restaurant you worked at. He asked for a table, and specifically asked for you as his server. The owner was clearly surprised; not only did he not expect Bruce Wayne of all people to have dinner at his restaurant, but he also wasn't expecting him to ask for a specific server. Especially one that seemed as insignificant as you. Bruce assured him it was vital that he had you as his server, and the man quickly relented, happy to tend to the billionaire’s every need.
“Hi, welcome to La Lune d'Argent. My name is – “ Before you could continue, you looked up and a grin spread across your face. “Bruce! What are you doing here?”
“Having dinner. What does it look like?” He replied with a smile.
“You could've told me you were coming! I’d have gotten you the best table.”
“This one is just fine, I promise. And letting you know in advance would sort of ruin the purpose of a surprise, don't you think?”
“You wanted to surprise me?” Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you shook your head, trying to get rid of it. Not only did you have a boyfriend, but you were also at your workplace and needed to remain professional. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”
Bruce smiled once again, before opening the menu in front of him and eyeing it.
“What do you recommend?” He asked.
“Well, the Seared Scallops with Truffle Risotto are our specialty. The Lobster Thermidor is also really good, and so are the Stuffed Shrimp with Crabmeat. But if you’re not in the mood for fish, then I recommend the Chateaubriand and the Filet Mignon. The Tournedos Rossini is a costumer favourite, but I’ve tried it and don’t think it’s all that.”
Bruce nodded, before going over the wine section.
“And the wine?”
“It depends. If you pick any of the fish dishes, then you should go with the Chardonnay or the Prosecco. If you go for the meat, then you should most likely enjoy a glass of Cabernet or Merlot. There’s plenty more, but I’m I wouldn’t be of any help with those. I’m terrible when it comes to wine.” You recited, the words spilling naturally from your lips – you’d done this a thousand times.
“That’s okay. Well then, how about I have the Foie Gras Terrine and the Truffle Risotto Croquettes as appetisers, and for the main dish, I’d like the Chateaubriand if possible. I’d also like a side of salad. As for the wine, I trust the owner’s good judgment. Cabernet it is.” He waited until you were done writing everything down and handed you the menu.
“Anything else?” You asked, taking it, and tucking it under your arm.
“Is your company too much to ask for?” He offered you a smile.
“Some of us have to actually work, Mr. Wayne,” you joked and stuck your tongue out playfully, “I’ll have your appetisers here in a minute.”
Dinner went well. The food was stellar (there was after all a reason the restaurant had two Michelin stars), the wine lived up to the expectations, and your company – or rather, the small moments you managed to spare him – warmed his heart. You offered him small quips about your work, told him about the usual costumers that sat on their usual tables and had their usual meals, gossiped about those you didn't like. It felt nice, to have a good time at work. You didn't completely hate your job, no, and some days were definitely fun thanks to your coworkers or any sort of shenanigans that happened during your shifts, but it could get boring and lonely and upsetting. Bruce being there was a nice change, and a welcome one.
“When does your shift end?” He asked, after he’d eaten a nice slice of cheesecake for dessert.
“In about half an hour, I believe. I have an early night today.”
“I’ll wait for you then.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to, Bruce – “
“Nonsense. Do you have a ride home?”
“I’ll just take the train.”
“I'll give you a ride then.”
“Bruce, that’s seriously not necessary – “
You were interrupted by the voice of your boss, calling out your name in an accusatory tone. “Do I pay you to sit around and talk to costumers?”
You sighed and nodded towards Bruce.
“Thank you. A ride home would be nice.”
He waited until you were done, paid for his meal and left you a nice tip, and then waited outside. You took a few minutes, but soon enough you were walking towards him, wrapped around in a comfortable looking jacket.
“You ready to go?” you asked before a voice called out.
“Babe?”
You turned around, and your eyes widened before softening at the sight before them. “Nate!” You smiled, making your way to him, and hugging him tightly. Nate hugged you back just as tight, but his eyes did not leave the tall man that had been by your side.
“Who is this?” He asked, discontent clear in his voice.
“Oh!” You turned to face Bruce, arm linked with Nathan’s. “This is Bruce! I told you about him, remember? He’s my friend.”
“You did tell me about your friend. You did not mention your friend was the Bruce Wayne.”
“Well, that’s because he’s not the Bruce Wayne to me. He’s just Bruce.” You smiled, and Nathan didn't seem too pleased once Bruce extended his hand.
“Bruce Wayne.” He spoke. Nathan shook his hand, steel-like eyes taking the taller man in, his expensive clothes and pulled-together appearance.
“Nathan Smith. So, you’re my girl’s friend, is that right?” He asked, pulling you closer by the waist. It wasn't hard to miss the jealous look in his face, and Bruce decided to ease the guy’s mind a bit, not wanting to get into any trouble. And not wanting to get you into any trouble.
“Yes, that’s right. I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Yeah? That’s funny because she’s barely said a word about you.” Nathan replied, offering Bruce a tight-lipped smile, and turning to you. “I came here to surprise you. Heard you were getting an early night, wanted to give you a lift home. Maybe we can make up for lost time? I miss you.” It did not take an idiot to see what the hell he was getting at, and it made your duck your head slightly, clearly embarrassed.
“That’s very kind of you, thank you. I loved the surprise.” You faced Bruce once again and offered him an apologetic smile. “Nate will take me home, if that’s fine by you.”
“Fine by him? What's this got to do with him?” Your boyfriend asked, chuckling dryly, and giving you a not so amused look.
“Bruce had offered to take me home. It was kind of him, so I said yes.”
“Yes, yes, very kind.” Nathan turned to Bruce too. “As you can see, your help is no longer needed. I’ll be taking my girlfriend home now.” He said the words with a sneer, happy to claim you as his.
“Yes, well. Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Oh, I do.”
You looked awkwardly in between both men and cleared your throat moving away from your boyfriend to envelop Bruce in a hug.
“Thank you for the surprise. It was really nice. And thanks for the offer too. The ride back home one. I’ll see you some other day?”
“Absolutely,” He replied and turned to leave.
As he walked away, he could hear Nathan’s voice and how accusatory it sounded.
“Surprise? What was that all about? Why was that guy visiting you at work?”
“He’s a friend, Nate. He just wanted to stop by.”
“Oh yeah? And what business does he have just stopping by? He’s not your boyfriend. I am.”
“He’s just a friend, Nate. I promise. Let's just go home, please? I miss you.”
Bruce was inside his car before he could properly make out whatever Nathan had replied to you, but he could tell it was nothing good.
The next time Bruce saw you, you were sitting by yourself at a coffee shop, having an iced drink and reading a book. He thought about approaching you but decided against it. You looked peaceful, and he didn't want to upset you should you not want to see him after the whole ordeal with your boyfriend went down.
But he was pleasantly surprised when he heard your voice call his name, and your hand beckoning him to come closer.
“Hey! I had no idea you came to this place. Wanna sit next to me?” You asked, moving your bag out of the chair in front of you, making space for him,
“Sometimes, on my lunch break. I take it today is your day off?”
“Mhm! Got today all to myself. I was supposed to spend it with Nathan, but we kind of fought so I decided to get some fresh air myself. You know, just to clear my head.” You said the words “kind of fought” as if they meant nothing, as if fighting with your boyfriend was a daily occurrence. He didn't like that.
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” Bruce sat down in front of you, placing his own coffee on the table.
“Nah, not really. That’s just who Nate is. He gets upset sometimes, and I have to put some space in between us. No big deal. What about you? What are you up to?”
“Well, like I mentioned, this was supposed to be my lunch break, but I took the afternoon off. Alfred – my butler – is supposed to come pick me up later. It’s the anniversary of my parents’ marriage. I want to visit their graves.”
Your eyes softened and you placed a hand on top of his. Your palm felt warm on top of his, and Bruce immediately turned his hand so he could slot his fingers in between yours.
“I’m sorry.” Was all you said. After all, what more could you? Everyone knew Bruce Wayne’s story, but you did not want to seem presumptuous and assume you knew all about him. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
“Me too,” Bruce replied quietly, his voice thick with emotion, the way it usually was whenever he mentioned his parents. He didn't speak about them to many people, but let his facade slip completely for those he did trust enough.
“Is it okay if I come with?” You asked, and immediately regretted it. Why would you ask such a thing? Why would he even allow you to attend such a private thing with him? It was dumb, really. Before you could take your words back though, he replied, eyebrow quirked.
“Really?”
You shrugged sheepishly.
“Sure. It sounds tough, and I don’t want you to suffer all by yourself. You tend to do that.”
It was true. Bruce often hid his feelings, his emotions, shielding them from everyone. It hadn’t been that long since you two had started talking – maybe one or two months – but you could already tell he was very selective with the people he trusted. And how could he not be? You wanted to be someone he could trust, though. Wanted to be someone he could rely on, help him shoulder all his burdens.
Bruce thought it over for a bit. It would be nice to have some company. Visiting his parents’ grave was a very personal and intimate thing, yes, but he considered you a friend, and he’d be lying if he said he didn't want your company. He was sure both his father and his mother would've liked you, would've enjoyed your sense of humour and appreciated his kindness. So why not?
“I would appreciate that,” he said, and you smiled. “Won't it be a problem with Nathan?”
“Don't worry about him. He’s not the boss of me, and I'm not doing anything wrong.”
That’s how you found yourself, standing in front of the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne, the beautiful Wayne Manor just ahead.
“I’m sure they loved each other very much,” you said, eyes not leaving the carved stones in front of you.
“They did.” Bruce agreed with a nod. “My father would bring my mother flowers nearly every day. She used to joke about having her own private flower shop thanks to him. He never stopped though. He��d bring her different flowers according to her mood. That’s just how he was. Always looking out for her. He could tell whenever she was sad, or happy, or worried.”
“What an amazing husband,” you smiled, picturing the late Thomas Wayne reading his wife and choosing flowers accordingly.
“And my mother was just as amazing as him. She could tell when he had had a bad day at the hospital. I never could – she used to tell me she could sense it in the first few steps he took whenever he arrived home. Whenever he felt down, she’d help Alfred make his favourite meal. He didn't have to ask, she simply did it out of the goodness of her heart, and all her love for him.”
“It must've been incredible to be surrounded by such love. You were very lucky, Bruce. And I'm sure your parents loved you just as much as they loved each other, if not even more.”
You smiled up at him and he offered you a small smile in return. You were right. He had been lucky to have experienced such love and affection at a young age. It made him realise the kind of relationship he wanted to be with and taught him the kind of partner he should be.
He was just about to speak when your phone started chiming.
“Sorry – forgot to mute it,” you mumbled, turning the sound off. It didn't do anything to quiet it down though, since it just kept vibrating in your pocket. You huffed and turned it on, brows furrowing in confusion, and then relaxing.
“It’s Nate,” you said, not looking up from the screen, “He’s apologising for our fight. Says he was in a very bad emotional state. Poor thing… He’s very self-conscious, you know. Keeps telling me he’s too lucky to have me, that I could have anyone in the world, but I settled for him. He always thinks he’s not good enough for me, that I'll leave him for someone else” You chuckled dryly, before continuing, “He couldn't be farther from the truth, though. I’m the lucky one.” You looked up and Bruce and pointed to the phone in your hand. “I should probably go. Nate wants to apologise in person, and I should probably talk to him.”
Bruce nodded and pointed to the limo standing near the street.
“Alfred will take you home.”
“Thanks.” You smiled up and him and moved forward to hug him. Bruce softened immediately. You slotted perfectly against him, and he felt like a piece of a puzzle that had just found its matching half. Unfortunately, you pulled away, taking all the warmth with you.
“I’ll see you some other time,” you said, walking away.
Once you were out of his view, he turned to his parents.
Perhaps someday he’d be able to love you like they loved each other.
Bruce was working when he received a text from you. It had been a few days since you’d visited his parents’ grave with him, and you hadn't spoken face-to-face since. You’d been texting non-stop though, telling each other about your day, sending pictures of your respective meals, or just sharing funny anecdotes or pictures you saw online that reminded you of each other. Bruce clicked on the notification with your name.
Look at this!
[1 file attached]
Clicking on the picture, he could see your radiant face, partially hidden by a huge bouquet of roses. They did nothing to steal the shine from you though, and Bruce cringed at how they paled in comparison to your beauty. He was quick to shoot back a reply,
They look pretty. Secret admirer?
You were even quicker to reply.
They’re from Nate, as an apology! Isn't he the sweetest? He’s been spoiling me rotten. I don't think I deserve it.
Bruce’s stomach twisted at the mention of your boyfriend. His fingers flew across the screen as he typed.
You deserve that, and much more.
You replied with a smiley face, and that was the end of your conversation for the day.
It was hard to get back to work after that, his thoughts plagued with you. Your nice smile, your kind words, the way you fit perfectly against the shape of his body and how tightly you’d hugged him back on the Manor grounds. He knew it was wrong to want you - you were dating someone else, and it’s not like you knew each other for a long time, but he couldn't help it.
Bruce took a deep breath, and gulped down an entire glass of water, before chastising himself and focusing on whatever task he had left to complete.
It didn't work, and Lucius found him staring at the screen of his phone for a good five minutes, before deciding his boss probably deserved a break from his somewhat incessant teasing.
After that, you met up with Bruce a few more times.
You’d meet up sometimes for lunch or a late afternoon snack, and you’d even had breakfast together once. You chalk it up to friendly outings, and so does Bruce (although he’s sadder than you to admit that). Unfortunately, these meetings were not filled with chatter about your lives, motivations, and dreams for the future. Instead, you worried your pretty little head off thinking about Nathan, who didn’t text you for hours, seemingly pushing away from you, only to give you mixed signals the next day and apologising for his behaviour. Bruce could see how draining it was, could see how you always glanced at your phone whenever the two of you were together, and how you seemed to walk on eggshells whenever Nathan called you.
Things would get harder for the two of you at night – Bruce was out patrolling the city as Batman, something he had not and would never tell you – and you sometimes you got lonely. Bruce simply told you he was busy, and you in good faith, believed him. After all, he was a busy man, running a busy company, leading a busy life. You were lucky enough he managed to spend some time with you during the week.
Bruce had become your closest friend. You loved hanging out with him. It was like he got you. He was a great listener, always providing you with great insight whenever you asked for it, or simply being a shoulder to cry on if you wanted to. He would give you solid advice, support you on (nearly) every decision and all of your hobbies, encouraging you to seek out new experiences and the things you’ve always wanted to do but were never brave enough to.
One day, the two of you were meeting up for coffee. You had your legs tucked under yourself, grabbing a warm mug with both of your hands. You loved this café; loved the ambient, the fluffy pillows and couches, the vast choice of drinks. It was your own special little corner, and you were happy to bring Bruce along.
You two were in a middle of a conversation about your favourite books, before your phone buzzed. You decided to ignore it, but it just buzzed again. And again. And again. A bunch of texts messages started coming through, and as you picked up your phone, it started ringing.
“It’s Nate,” you mumbled, accepting the call, and mouthing a small “sorry” to Bruce, who nodded.
“Hey honey,” you said. Bruce could make out your boyfriend’s voice from the other side of the line, and he could tell he wasn’t pleased.
“Where the hell are you!?” he heard Nathan say, and you involuntarily flinched in your seat, frowning.
“I’m at a café. I told you this, didn’t I?” you asked.
“Yeah, well, Ricky just texted me saying he saw you sitting with some other guy. What the fuck is going on?”
“Another guy?” you mumbled, “Nate, I’m with Bruce. We’re out for coffee, that’s all.”
Bruce heard Nathan scoff, and his fists curled on his lap. He was just glad you couldn’t see it.
“Ah, of course. Fucking Bruce. It’s always him, isn’t it?”
This seemed to get you riled up.
“I asked you if you wanted to come with me, and you told me no. You said you had better things to do and hated this place,” you shook your head, brows furrowing in anger. “So, I invited a friend. I’m allowed to have other friends, you know.”
“Yeah, sure. And it had to be a guy? You had to invite a guy out for coffee? Just the two of you?”
You curled into yourself and away from Bruce, lowering your voice.
“Nate, if you cancel on me, I’m going to invite other people. It’s just Bruce.”
“That guy’s trying to get into your fucking pants, and you know it, and you keep encouraging him. How does that make me feel, huh? Knowing you’re out there with some other douche who wants to jump your bones?” Bruce wanted nothing more than to seek out the asshole you were dating and beating him to a pulp. How he even dared to speak to you like that was beyond him, but he decided to say nothing. At least not yet.
“Nate, I don’t like it when you talk to me like this. He’s just a friend, I told you, you have no reason to be jealous – “
“Yeah sure. Don’t bother coming home.”
And he hung up.
Bruce eyed you, the way your pretty eyes welled up with tears and how you quickly wiped them away, throwing your phone and belongings to the purse sitting next to you.
“I – I’m sorry, Bruce, I – I need to go. I have to sort this out with him.” You mumbled, standing up. Bruce, however, was quicker, and stood in front of you, blocking your path.
He furrowed his brows and spoke in a low voice as not to startle you.
“He shouldn’t talk to you like this.”
“He’s right. I know he is – I know he’s got low-self-esteem issues, he’s just worried is all. He’s afraid to lose me, I know he is.” You said these words like a mantra, and Bruce wondered just how long you’d been repeating them to yourself. It made his heart ache. He reached out to wipe your tears, but you took a step back, shaking your head.
“I’m sorry for cutting our meeting short, Bruce,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you later.”
And you were out of his sight.
“Hang out?” Bruce asked, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he shaved.
“Yeah!” he could hear your excited voice on the other side, and it made him smile. “It’ll be just me and Nate and some more friends. I know how you are with strangers, so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I thought it’d be nice if you were out of your house for once. You spend all those nights working, you’ve gotta learn to have fun!”
It was partially true. He did spend all these nights working. Just not a very conventional job. In fact, he’d been spending the last few weeks looking into Nathan Smith. His past, his present, and making assumptions on his future. He had all eyes on this douche.
“Bruce? Are you there?” you called, “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re not a fan of other people – “
“I’ll be there.” He said curtly, blade gliding against his smooth skin. “Just text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”
“Really?” you let out a squeal of excitement and Bruce nearly cut himself with the sound. He realised then just how much he wanted you to be like that all the time. Happy. Excited.
“Really.”
“Okay – okay! I’ll let you know where and when! I can’t wait to see you again! I have to go now though, my shift’s about to start. See you soon, yes?” You hung up and Bruce chuckled to himself. He couldn’t wait to see you either. He wasn’t, although, very eager to see Nathan. But for your sake, he’d be on his best behaviour.
You met a few days after the phone call, at a local bar.
It was bustling with people and energy. Loud music was being played on speakers, the whole place smelled of cheap beer, and the people’s noise was deafening. Still, he overlooked all of that just for the sheer pleasure of hanging out with you.
“Bruce!” You called out, getting up from your spot near the counter and hurrying to meet him halfway. You hugged him tightly and he once again felt like you were meant to be in his arms forever. When you pulled away, he smiled. “You made it!” You were wearing an off-the-shoulder top and a pair of shorts decorated with small lace at the bottom. But Bruce couldn’t care less about what you were wearing – you always looked radiant.
“Of course I did.”
“Here, come meet my friends!”
You dragged him to a small group of people and introduced him to everyone. He was expecting more and was glad to find it was only you plus 4 others. Nathan was still on his way, you told him.
All of you kept light conversation for a while. Bruce did not really try to keep up with your friends’ conversations. One of them kept rubbing herself all up against him, giggling and obviously trying to get herself into his good graces. She was clearly only interested in his money, and Bruce had to excuse himself a few times just to get away.
After a few minutes, your head turned and you smiled, standing up to greet someone.
Nate.
“Hey honey!” You smiled, lifting your head to kiss him on the lips. Nathan quickly scanned the table, and once his eyes fell on Bruce, he scowled, one hand coming down to grip your waist, and the other to give you a light squeeze on your ass cheek (which made Bruce cringe and want to punch this jerk to next Sunday).
“Hello. Didn’t know we’d be having so much company,” the doctor sneered, eyes lingering on the Wayne billionaire.
“Well, if you don’t like me meeting up with friends on my own, I thought we could all meet up. Isn’t it a nice solution?” you smiled, but Nate didn’t seem to care about it. How dare he, Bruce thought. If you were his, he would never overlook your smile. Never. But she’s not yours, a tiny voice whispered inside his head.
Nate then turned to you, eyeing you up and down. His eyes lingered on your exposed collarbone and shoulders, and on the shorts that adorned your pretty legs. He sneered.
“And what the fuck is this?” he asked with a scoff.
“Hm?”
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
“Oh! These are new!” you spun in your place, showing off your outfit. “Do you like them? I thought the lace details were super cute – “
“So you’re wearing this out?” Nate crossed his arms, visibly upset. “Seriously? Don’t you think it’s a bit too revealing?”
It wasn’t, really. The top, even if it was off-the-shoulder, did not expose your cleavage too shockingly. The shorts weren’t too short either, covering just the right amount of skin. And even if the clothes were too short (which they weren’t), Bruce thought Nathan should just mind his fucking business.
“You think so?” your smile was quickly replaced by a pout, and you looked down at your clothes self-consciously.
“Yes, I fucking think so. I don’t understand why you feel the need to dress like that, show that much skin. People might get the wrong idea.”
“What wrong idea? Nate, they’re just clothes. There’s nothing wrong with them.”
The atmosphere had become tense. Your friends were all giving each other knowing looks but kept to themselves. Bruce didn’t have the heart to simply stand there and watch though. He put an arm in between you and Nathan and spoke calmly.
“Look, I think she should be allowed to wear whatever she wants. It’s not like she’s naked – “
“Stay the hell out of this, rich guy. I couldn’t care less what you think, this is not your relationship, and she is my girlfriend.”
Bruce looked at you, but you seemed to be avoiding his gaze, eyes fixated on Nathan.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think they were that revealing when I tried them on. I just liked how they looked on me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m fucking embarrassed to be seen with you when you dress like that. Dressed like a common whore.”
That was enough for Bruce. He stepped forward, ready to send his fist flying across this jerk’s face, but your smaller hand wrapped itself around his arm.
“Bruce, please,” you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay. He’s right. I am showing too much skin. I should dress more modestly.”
“He’s being a jerk,” Bruce muttered, eyes urging you to let him go. “I’m not letting him speak to you like that.”
“Please.” You sounded so meek, so small. It tugged at Bruce’s heartstrings, and he immediately lowered his arm. He’d do anything for you, really.
“Fine.”
“Yeah, that’s better.” Nathan scoffed, before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you close. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Without sparing him a second glance, you were out of the bar.
“I’m telling you, Alfred, that guy is the worst. I don’t understand how she’s still with him, he treats her like shit,” Bruce muttered to himself as he paced back and forth in his bedroom.
“Master Wayne, although I admire your compassion, I cannot help but wonder if you are sticking your nose in someone else’s business.” Alfred replied. He’d been watching Bruce walk holes into the floor, and although he wanted to help, the older man knew there was really nothing he could do.
“I know. I know I am but – she deserves better. She does, she deserves someone who’ll treat her right, who won’t talk to her that way, who will respect her and adore her – “
“Someone like you, I presume.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Bruce sighed and sat on his bed, defeated.
“Master Wayne, have you considered telling this girl the feelings you’re harbouring for her?” Alfred asked, moving closer to the bed.
“I can’t. She loves him Alfred, she… she loves him.” He muttered again.
The butler gave Bruce a sympathetic smile, before walking away.
You loved Nathan. You didn’t love him.
So why did it all feel so terribly wrong?
You walked inside Wayne Manor for the first time a few weeks later.
It was raining – pouring, even – and you’d desperately knocked on its big doors. Alfred opened them for you, and recognised you instantly, having stolen glances at Bruce’s phone whenever he looked at pictures of you.
“Hi – Hi, I’m sorry for the intrusion,” you quickly introduced yourself, tears running down your face. “Is – is Bruce here?”
Alfred gently guided you to the living room, where he told you to wait. You stood there awkwardly, picking at your fingers, and looking around, taking in the beauty of Bruce’s family home.
When Alfred returned, he brought with him a few towels, and Bruce Wayne himself. The latter was just about to leave for patrol, but upon hearing from Alfred that you were standing on his doorway, drenched from head to toe and crying, he decided to ditch his nightly duties.
“Hey,” he said, hurrying towards you. It was all it took – you collapsed in his arms, tears running down your face. Bruce held you tightly and you cried, burrowing your face in his chest. Alfred simply placed the towels on top of one of the couches, and took his leave, silently going upstairs to get a robe for you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Once you managed to stop crying, you looked up at him and sniffled, shaking your head.
“I’m so sorry – you’re all wet because of me now,” you told him.
Bruce shook his head and moved to hand you a towel.
“It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
You sighed and used the towel to dry your hair, wrapping the other one around your shoulders.
“It… it was Nathan.”
Bruce looked at you, eyes narrowing.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing! I mean – we just fought, that’s all. But it was a really nasty fight.” You said and burst into tears again. “He – he kept saying all I did was walk around and cheat on him! He said I didn’t truly love him, that I was selfish and only thought of myself. It – it’s not true! I love him Bruce, I really do!” You buried your face on your hands, and Bruce moved to sit by your side.
Bruce held you tightly in his arms, hand stroking your back and your head. You melted in his hold, breath evening out and tears eventually subsiding.
"I just... I don't know what to do, Bruce..." You mumbled against his chest. "I really do love him, but he said all of those mean things..."
Bruce's lips pressed into a thin line as he navigated the best way to go about this conversation.
"Nathan..." He mumbled, hands running through your hair. "Does he speak to you like this a lot?"
You sniffled, stilling in his arms.
"We fight... Lately we've been fighting a lot, but... I know he loves me... He doesn't mean it. He's been under so much stress, things at the hospital are getting chaotic and I've been stressing him out..."
Bruce shook his head, his hold unconsciously tightening around you. So he took his stress out on you? Jerk.
"That's not okay. He can't speak to you like this, he doesn't have the right to." Bruce pulled away to look you in the eyes and you sniffled as his big hands wiped your tears.
"He doesn't mean any harm, you know... He's under a lot of pressure from his superiors..."
He sighed once again, and then watched from the corner of his eyes as Alfred carried in his hand a tray of warm drinks and a fluffy robe.
"Look," he said, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "How about you change into something more comfortable, and we'll talk about it over a drink?"
You smiled and nodded, getting up and thanking Alfred, grabbing the robe so you could go change.
Once you came back, you told Bruce you did not want to talk about such sad topics any further, and simply wanted to distract yourself. Bruce was happy to oblige.
You settled in the couch side by side with a blanket covering your laps. He let you pick a movie, and you sat side by side, poking fun at whatever it was that was playing on the TV, sipping on warm beverages, and talking.
“So you’re telling me you don’t know how to make a cup of tea?” You asked, leaning back to look at Bruce with a serious expression.
“Look, I was a failure and I decided it was better not to learn instead of having Alfred annoy me about it. He’s very serious about his tea. You should hear him yell at me.”
You chuckled and involuntarily placed your legs over Bruce’s lap under the blankets. He was quick to lay his hands on top of them, drawing patterns absentmindedly.
“You’re impossible,” you chuckled.
“Oh, so you’re all high and mighty and capable of cooking anything and everything?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Even if I wasn't very good, I'm sure I'd be able to cook more than you. I had to, you know. Living on my own and all,” you shrugged, “Some people don’t have butlers doing everything for them.”
Bruce hummed. You were right. It was one of the things he admired the most about you. How unafraid you were to tell him exactly what you think, and how resilient you were, how strong-willed and stubborn. Bruce was sure he’d never met a woman as strong as you in his entire life.
“Alright, pay up.” You extended your hand.
Now you were sitting a few inches apart, a Monopoly board on the couch in front of you.
“You’re cheating,” he huffed, counting his bills.
“No, you’re simply not very good. Aren't you like, supposed to be a god at this or something? This is your whole life.” You popped a popcorn inside your mouth and smiled.
“Usually, lives aren't dictated by the throw of a dice,” he said, handing you two bills. “You're ruining me here. I’m gonna go bankrupt.”
“Then learn how to play better.” You shrugged and rolled your dice again, moving your piece accordingly. Bruce smiled. He could get used to this, spending time with you, cuddled up in his couch. That's where you were meant to be, next to him, in his arms, in his blankets. You were meant to be in his home, brightening up the place with something as small as a smile, in his life, brightening his whole existence with just a tilt of your head. It was at this moment that Bruce realised that his feelings for you ran way deeper than just a simple friendship. After all, friends didn't wish to spend eternity together. Friends didn't want to lick the popcorn salt off each other’s lips, friends didn't want to hold each other close and whisper sweet nothings in their ear.
As the night went on, so did the activities. When you were done with board games, you switched to card games (getting your ass kicked by Bruce, who was far too good at Poker for your own liking). You changed movies about three times, simply not satisfied with the choices you’d picked earlier – not that Bruce minded. You’d made a game out of changing movies every time the characters gave you second hand embarrassment and had plenty of fun yelling at the protagonists who slipped and stuttered and acted like bozos.
“Oh, come on,” you cringed, body twitching involuntarily. “Why is she singing Fight Song on top of a table? Do directors think this is how people behave?”
“You stood on top of my couch and yelled. I think that’s close to what’s happening on the TV,” The man next to you eyed you with amusement as you scoffed and pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“That’s different, I won Monopoly,” you said nonchalantly, “Everyone knows you’re entitled to do whatever you want once you win Monopoly.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it in his direction, but you should've known better, because Bruce simply picked it mid-air and raised it in front of his head, to hit you back. However, at the sudden movement, your eyes widened, and you quickly flinched away from him, panic spreading all over your face.
Bruce let go of the pillow, heart breaking at the sight before him. What the fuck had just happened? Did you flinch away from him?
“I – “ You seemed to notice his worry and were quick to shake your head, laughing weakly. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay?” He asked, torn between reaching out and staying in place. He didn't want to scare you even more than he already had.
“Yes! Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I wasn't expecting you to do that. Was just trying to get away from the pillow.”
“You scrambled away from me.”
“Well, yes, you were going to hit me with a pillow, weren't you, Bruce?”
“I would never hurt you. You know that,” he whispered, and you looked away, still trying to pretend everything was fine.
“Well, I didn't want a pillow on my face. Alright? It’s nothing, I promise.”
He wasn't convinced in the least, and Bruce knew what it usually meant. His mind went back to Nathan, to the way he had treated you at the bar, to his behaviour towards you whenever you and Bruce were out for ice-cream or coffee. The gears were turning in his head, and you took notice of that, moving forward and holding his hands.
“Hey,” you smiled, although it didn't reach your eyes, “It’s fine. I promise. Everything is okay.”
He didn't believe it. Didn't buy it. But he had to earn your trust if he wanted to do something about it, and scaring you away wasn't an option.
He attempted to smile back, and nodded, muttering a small “Alright.”
You settled back next to him, and he could feel the way your body had tensed up as soon as your arms had brushed together. He needed to calm you down. So, he spoke.
About his life, about his childhood. He told you about all the times his father would let him tag along whenever he went to work at the hospital, how fascinated he was with his occupation. Saving lives. How great was that. He told you how much his father’s work had inspired him. He explained to you the intricate games he’d play in his gardens, pretending to be a detective who was investigating every sort of crimes. He wanted to save lives, just like his father did.
“You do, you know,” you mumbled, looking up from under his chin to get a good look at his beautiful face. “Even if you’re not a doctor, you still save lives. You make people’s lives better. All your philanthropy and charity are helping Gotham. You’re not doing this in vain.”
He smiled. If only you knew how much his charity and philanthropy extended.
You replied with stories of your own. The things you liked to do while growing up, the games you’d make up in your room, thinking of faraway lands with castles and elves and fantasies. You’d be a police officer one day, and a pirate the next. You told him about your childhood home, your high school, your college major. You showed him pictures of your roommates and the fun activities you did together.
It was an exchange. You’d tell him about yourself, and he would open up to you in return. The TV was still on, and both of you were looking at it, but none was paying attention. Your conversation was much more important.
Bruce told you about his childhood, how lonely he would feel sometimes. He told you sometimes he would isolate himself, the grief of having lost his parents far too much to bear. It made your heart ache and you found yourself leaning closer, wishing to take all of his pain away.
"You don't have to suffer all on your own now, though," you said, looking up to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "I'm here now. You can count on me to help you with whatever. You can trust me, Bruce." Your hand was suddenly on his cheek, palm hot and caring, and Bruce instantly leaned into it, sure that this was where he was meant to be – in your arms, staring into your eyes, baring his soul open. The air crackled in between you – it was as if the world had shifted and finally landed in place. It felt right. Everything felt right, and your eyes briefly drifted towards his lips.
He was just about to say something when a few loud knocks could be heard on the door. Your head whipped around in panic, the sound clearly startling you (something Bruce kept in mind).
"Alfred, could you please get that?" He asked, arm wrapping itself around you in an unconsciously protective move. You relaxed in his hold just as quickly as you’d stiffened, and his heart leaped. Did you feel safe with him?
The door slid open, revealing behind it a massive bouquet of red roses. The roses moved and Bruce quickly spotted the figure who was holding them.
"Nate?" You whispered, untangling yourself from Bruce's hold and taking tentative steps towards the door. Shit.
"Babe – hey," Nathan replied, sighing with relief once he spotted you. "I'm so sorry, I – I'm such an idiot. I'm the worst."
You eyed him sceptically, something like doubt shining in your eyes.
"I shouldn't have said any of those things. The hospital has been so busy, my bosses have been giving me shit every day, and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry, will you please forgive me?"
You hugged your arms, shielding yourself. You looked back at Bruce, who was watching the situation, lips a thin line and eyes cloudy.
"I didn't like the way you spoke to me... You really hurt, Nate, did you mean all of those things?"
"No! No – fuck no, I didn't. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. Please, let me make it up to you. I don't deserve you, but if you forgive me, I'll spend the rest of my days trying to prove to you I am worthy of your love. I'm so sorry. I'll be better. I promise. Babe, you make me better."
Bruce wasn't fazed by this speech. He didn't buy a single word of what Nathan had just told you, and once again, he would not keep it to himself. This man was manipulating you, preying on your emotions and your love for him, probably even going as far as laying his hands on you, and you deserved better.
"Perhaps you should've thought of those things before you treated her like shit." He said coldly, standing up and walking towards you. You turned away from him, which had Bruce's heart clench. Why were you turning from him?
But he didn't need to give it much more thought – you were already falling for Nathan's narrative.
"You – " Nathan's grip tightened. Bruce saw the way it tightened and saw your eyes land on his fist as well. This caused him to loosen it, and give a small, dry chuckle. "Bruce. Thank you so much for taking care of her. Truly. I'm so thankful you took care of my girl when she wasn't feeling well."
You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yes, babe, really. He's your friend, and I'm willing to get along with your friends. I'd do anything for you, you know it. Don't you?" He stuck out his hands, presenting to you the bouquet of roses in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other. It was only now that Bruce (and apparently, you as well) realised that both items, as well as the person who was carrying them, were dripping wet.
"You came all the way out here in the rain to apologise?" You asked, stepping out towards the man standing outside the door.
"Yes. Of course. I would do this and more for you, baby. You know that, don't you? I'll do anything for you. You drive me nuts, that's it. That's all! It's only because I love you so much that I act like this. Please give me another chance. I won't waste it. I know you deserve better than me, you could literally get any guy out there, but fuck... Please, just let me prove to you that you make me a better man." He looked desperate, panicked, blue eyes widening with fear.
It was useless. You were completely entranced by the manipulative bullshit this guy was spewing.
“Do you promise not to yell at me again?” You asked, taking another step towards him, fingers softly touching the rose petals.
“Yes. I do. I’ll never do it again – I promise babe. I’ll be better. I am better whenever I am with you. I know I overreacted, but it’s only because I love you. You make me crazy – I am crazy, for you.”
You looked up at him, something unsure in your eyes. You glanced back at Bruce, who furrowed his eyebrows and softly shook his head “no”. It wasn't a command or an order, simply some advice. This jerk didn't deserve you. You turned back to look at Nathan and took the roses he was holding from him.
“These are really pretty,” you mumbled, inhaling their scent.
“Not as pretty as you. So, what do you say? Will you forgive me? Please? Just give me another chance.”
You seemed to ponder it, quietly analysing the roses before you. Then, a bigger smile spread across your face, and you nodded, moving towards Nathan to wrap your arms around his neck. He sighed in relief and hugged you back, burrowing his face in your hair. When his gaze caught Bruce’s, his eyes hardened. If looks could kill, Bruce would be dead and gone. Perhaps it’s a good thing he wasn't scared of this jerk.
You let go of your boyfriend and turned to Bruce, holding the bouquet tightly in your hands.
“Thank you for your kindness, Bruce.”
“Are you sure about this – “
“But this is my relationship. We’re friends, aren’t we? I need you to trust me here, okay? It’s fine. Nathan’s apologised. Everything is okay now,” you smiled, and Bruce swore he could see something breaking behind your eyes.
“He doesn’t deserve you, he yelled and – “
“Look, I said I was sorry, alright, rich boy?” Nate interrupted, spitting the words. “Mind your own business. This is my relationship, alright? I appreciate that you were here for my girl, but your help is no longer needed.”
Then, he turned, taking you away with him.
The last thing Bruce saw before Nathan’s car was out of you, was you leaning over the console to press a sweet kiss on his cheek.
He didn't like this one bit. And he was not going to rest until he was sure you were away from this guy.
He didn't see you for a while after that.
At least not directly.
During his patrols, he would stop by your apartment and watch for any signs of either you or him. But either you were extremely shy, or Nathan was very careful about not letting anyone peek into their lives, and usually closed the blinds. Bruce was sure it was the latter. He could no longer peek inside – Lucius had destroyed the system that had allowed him to spy on every citizen in Gotham, after all – and was stuck texting you and trying to pry information from you.
The only thing you told him was that everything was fine. Nathan was a gentleman, taking you out for dinner and showering you in gifts, telling you he loved you. According to you, things couldn't be better.
Your texting patterns would be sporadic. Some days, he’d spend all day chatting with you, sending pictures and things that had reminded him of you, making plans to meet up and grab a bite. Others, you’d ignore him all day, giving him one-worded replies once or twice.
“Alfred, I just don’t know what to do,” he confessed once. “I’m pretty sure the bastard might be hitting her or something. The way she acts, the way he acts? Yelling at her, fighting, and then showering her with gifts and affection? It doesn't sit right with me.”
“Have you thought about reporting it to the police, sir?”
“I don’t have enough evidence,” he grumbled. “She flinched once, and they fight. That doesn't necessarily mean he’s abusive towards her. Besides, what if anyone investigates it, does not notice anything wrong, and he gets angrier? What if he takes it out on her?” Bruce placed his hands on his face and laid his arms on his knees. It was a tricky situation. If he wasn't abusive but was still a scumbag, he doubted you’d ever leave him. If he did hurt you in any physical way, he might be risking your own safety in case he reported anything.
Suddenly, his phone chimed, and he was pulled from his thoughts as your ringtone played. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?”
You were breathing heavily but did not say anything. Bruce was starting to worry.
“Hello? Is everything okay?”
“Yes – yes, it is,” you quickly said, and your voice held a foreign emotion to it, something Bruce couldn't quite place. “I’m sorry, I know it’s short notice, but do you want to grab something to eat? I was supposed to meet a friend, but she cancelled on me.”
Bruce looked up towards Alfred, who nodded in acknowledgement.
“Yes, sure. Of course, I'll meet you. Did you have any place in mind?”
“There’s this sandwich place near Gotham Mall, perhaps we could go there? I’ve been meaning to try it out for a while, but… Well, it’s just never been a right time. I’ll text you the address if you want to.” Something was up with your voice. You didn't usually sound so unconfident, at least not with him.
“I’d appreciate that. I’ll meet you there in 20. That okay?”
“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you, Bruce.” There was a small tilt to your voice that Bruce paired up with a smile, and then you hung up.
20? He’d be there in 10.
Bruce was already sitting down by a window, wearing a casual dark blue polo when you walked in. It was impossible to miss him – you found him the most handsome man in the world, with his beautifully carved jawline and his kind eyes.
What were you even saying? You have a boyfriend. Control yourself. If he knew you were even having these thoughts…
Instinctively, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you.
Once Bruce spotted you, he stood up to meet you halfway. You hugged him briefly, tensing under his touch, which he simply chalked up to awkwardness after that night. Had you felt the same he had? Was that why you were acting so strange?
“Thank you for meeting me,” you sighed, sitting down. “My friend cancelled last minute; I didn’t know who else to call. I hope you don’t feel like a last resort or anything – you were actually the first person I thought about.”
Bruce nodded. A waitress came over and asked you both if you would like to see the menu. You looked over at the options and a small smile was pulled from your lips. Once Bruce had picked a Caprese sandwich, you asked for a Pesto Chicken one, and a lemonade. The waitress smiled at you both (well, she smiled at Bruce), grabbed your menus (making it a show of bending over to show off her cleavage) and walked away.
Bruce, however, didn’t seem to notice, seeing as his eyes were on you.
“Is everything okay?”
You looked away, before meeting his gaze. And you smiled. It was gentle, and soft, and fake. Bruce knew, because he plastered on the same smile whenever he had to attend galas full of people whose only interest were his last name and his bank account.
“Yeah! I’m just tired, I think. Haven’t been sleeping well.”
Bruce’s gaze landed on your figure. You were leaning on your right arm, staring absentmindedly at the counter. You were wearing a pretty denim jacket, and a simple purple shirt underneath, as well as a pair of jeans. It wasn’t a very flashy outfit, and yet he thought you looked gorgeous.
“Aren’t you going to take that off?” he asked, nodding towards the jacket you were wearing.
“Hm?” You turned to him and blinked repeatedly. “Oh – no. No need, I’m kind of chilly. How have you been?”
Rather good at deflecting attention, you were. He decided to play along for the time being.
“I’ve been good. Work has been hectic, but what else could you expect when you’re running a company,” he sighed. “I’ve been worried about you, though. You’ve been ignoring me for a few days – are you sure you’re doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Work has been hectic as well. The restaurant is going through a few renovations, and we know have more tables to wait. It’s been a hard adjustment, but I’m doing my best.”
“I’m sure you are,” he smiled.
After that, conversation flowed easily, as it usually did between you two. Your sandwiches arrived and you tried each other’s comparing tastes and flavours, trying to prove to each other that your choice was superior. You told him about your new patrons at your job, an old couple who left you extremely big tips and called you “darling” every time you walked by. In return, he told you about this big investor who was interested in a fundraising project to combat poverty in Gotham.
It was as nice as always, and when the bill came, he reached for it without batting an eye.
“Hey – Mr, let me. You can’t just pay for everything.” You chided, reaching out to grab the bill from his hands.
“No, that’s out of the question,” he replied, as casually as asking about the weather. “You don’t have to pay for anything when you’re with me.”
“Bruce,” you whined half-jokingly, still trying to fetch the piece of paper from him. He lifted it over his head, and you huffed, leaning back once again. “You can’t pay for everything every time we’re out.”
“Why not?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I’m allowed to spoil you. Aren’t I?”
The word spoil had you turn your head, heat creeping up to your cheeks.
“I don’t deserve to be spoiled.”
“Sure you do. If anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s you.”
You looked into his eyes for a few moments, unable to form any words. Every time you were with him, you felt your heart warm. You felt like everything was right. It was easy to talk with Bruce. To Bruce. You felt like you could tell him just about anything.
Not anything.
“How about we go for a walk?” Bruce asked. You nodded and moved to get up.
But as you did so, the left sleeve of your jacket got stuck on your table. You pulled away, causing your whole arm to be exposed to him, a large bruise running along it. Your eyes widened and you panicked, forcefully pulling your jacket from the chair, and wrapping it around yourself again.
You heard Bruce call out your name, but you were far too focused on picking up your things and running out of the establishment, Bruce right behind you.
“Hey! Hey! Come black, please! Don’t go!” He wanted to scream, to yell, to reach out to you and hold you tight, but he knew doing any of those things could scare you off. He could lose you forever, and he was not going to let his anger at Nathan cloud his judgement.
You didn’t want to run, though. You crossed the street and stopped right in front of a park bench, tears streaming down your face. Once Bruce caught up with you, he maintained his distance, but remained close enough should you want to come closer. He called your name. Softly. As if it was some sort of prayer, a mantra. It felt nice coming from his lips. He sounded kind. Unlike…
“Who did that to you?” he asked, exasperation in his voice. There was no point dancing around the subject.
“No one. I tripped, and I fell, and I – “
“Please, don’t give me that crap.” His words were harsh, but his voice was soft, and everything was so confusing, all you could do was sit down on the bench in front of you and cry.
“I fell, Bruce. I’m so clumsy, I fell during one of my shifts at the restaurant and that’s all, I promise you.”
Bruce sat down next to you. A few inches, but still, next to you. His mind was running hot with anger. That bastard had done it, he’d actually touched you and hurt you, and Bruce was going to do everything in his power to make sure he never saw the light of the sun again. You raised your head and looked at Bruce. You thought he’d be looking at you with disgust, but there was none in his gaze. Only kindness, only softness.
“It was an accident…” you mumbled, and he had to move closer in order to make out the words you were saying. “It was my fault. I provoked him…”
There it was.
Not his fault. You’d provoked him.
Bruce did his best to school his features. He needed to be calm, he needed to look collected and cool. If he acted out and showed just how angry he was, he might scare you off, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want you to associate him to Nathan, to the monster who’d hurt you.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.
“It, it was my fault…” you sobbed. “He came home from work, and he was so tired… He’d had a really rough day, and all he wanted was to come home to a nice warm dinner, but, but… I was so tired, Bruce, I was so tired, so I didn’t cook – not even for myself! And when he came home, he started shouting and telling me I wasn’t good for anything, that he couldn’t even count on me to make him dinner.” You hid your face in your hands and sobbed louder. “So – so I told him to cook his own dinner, and I know I shouldn’t, because he was so tired! And – and he got mad, and… He... he...”
“Can I come any closer?” you furrowed your brows. Why was Bruce asking that? Why was he being so sweet with you? Especially after you’d just told him you were a terrible girlfriend, being as selfish as to not cook for your boyfriend after a tiring day. But the only thing in his eyes was gentleness. And he was being so sweet with you. Did you even deserve such a treatment?
You nodded your head yes, and he slowly moved closer, hand picking up yours.
“You need to report him to the police.”
Your eyes widened, and you began to shake your head while he spoke.
“He hurt you. This is domestic violence, it’s abuse. You need to report him – “
“No. No, no, no – “
“He can’t keep hurting you like this. All the yelling, all the fights, he’s taking advantage of you, and you don’t deserve any of that. Honey, he’s hurting you – “~
“No, no, no, no, no, no – “
“He’s abusing you.”
“He’s not – he loves me, it was an accident – “
“It wasn’t an accident; he’s hurt you before – “
“He hasn’t!” you exclaimed, shaking your head, “He has not hurt me!”
“Not physically, maybe, but he treats you like shit, which also counts as abuse. Listen to me, please,” he moved closer and slowly lifted his hands to cup your face. He did it slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust, react, move away from him, do anything to show your discomfort. You did not, so he held your face in a way that showed just how afraid he was that you would break.
“You deserve better. This scumbag is hurting you. Let me help you.”
You looked into his eyes, and the whole thing felt foreign to you. Being held so gently, being talked to so calmly, being regarded as something close to precious, to dear. Wasn’t this how relationships were supposed to go? Wasn’t Nathan supposed to be just like this?
“I love him…” you whispered, attempting to look away. Bruce did not let you. He kept his gaze focused on you. “I can’t leave him Bruce, I… He was so sorry… You should’ve seen him; he was so broken… He regretted it so much.”
"He looked broken because he's trying to fool you." Bruce let go of your face and held your hands in his, hoping to convey everything he meant just by this touch. "I can't stand and watch as he hurts you like this. Please let me do something. Let me help. I'll get him fired. I'll get him arrested. This can't go on; he can't keep hurting you – "
"I love him!" You sobbed, shaking your head. "I do, and he loves me, and he did not mean it! It was an accident! You can't do anything; you can't take him from me! Please, if you care about me in any way, don't do anything. We'll sort it out. I promise you it won't happen again, honest."
Bruce was torn. Torn between storming out of there and beating that asshole boyfriend of yours into a pulp and staying there comforting you. He wanted to do both so badly. He couldn't just stand aside and do nothing, but he also did not want to lose you forever. He could still do it, of course. Hurt Nathan, the same way he'd hurt you. But then he was most definitely sure he'd lose you forever. And would that be worth it? It would. He'd lose you, but you'd be safe. And wasn't that what mattered the most in the end?
"Please, Bruce... Trust me..." You whispered, looking deep into his eyes, trying to find some sort of sign in there that would show you he was still on your side, by your side. Your friends were against you, so was your family. Nathan was right. They were all terrible, they hated you and did not want you to be happy.
With all those people gone, you needed to know you still had Bruce. That despite everyone leaving, he was still yours.
He's not yours though, a little voice said inside your head. You tried to drown it. Who Bruce belongs to is none of your business. And it’s not like he even belongs to someone, he is his own person. Not some property to be handed around carelessly.
You’d never handle him carelessly though. You’d love him. And he’d love you, the way you’re meant to be loved. No. This was wrong. You were not supposed to have these thoughts. You had Nathan. And you loved him.
Did you, though? What had Nathan done for you as of late? Hit you and berate you and fight you and yell at you. Was that even how relationships went?
Sure. That's how passionate relationships went. And you knew Nathan was passionate about you. That’s why he got angry so often, because your love drove him nuts. Loving you drove him nuts. He adored you so much, you made him lose rationality. And wasn't that romantic?
Bruises aren't romantic. Taking care of someone is romantic. Holding them while they cry. Cheering them up with ice-cream and Monopoly, and surprising them at work. What a wonderful boyfriend Bruce would be.
No. Stop it. Those thoughts are wrong.
You looked at Bruce, standing in front of you, regarding you with so much care and worry. How you wished you could just melt in his arms forever. Sometimes you liked to relive how nice it felt to rest in his hold. How natural. You wished you could hug him again and never let go.
It was frightening, really, the way your feelings for Bruce were growing. He’d been just a friend at first, someone you could trust, someone you could spend time with and have fun. But now, he was so much more than that, and you feared the lines between friendship, and something more had begun to blur.
“I’d treat you so much better,” he suddenly blurted, drawing circles on your hand with his thumbs. “You deserve better than him. Please let me do better. Let me show you how you deserve to be loved.”
Tears found their ways to your eyes, and you shook your head, slowly.
You couldn't. No, you couldn't, possibly.
“I’m sorry…” you started, trying to choke back a sob.
“Please. You deserve to be treated with respect. With kindness, with love. Nathan isn't doing any of these things, he’s disrespecting you by laying his hands on you and hurting you all the time.” His face was mere inches away from yours now. Why was he so close? You could smell his cologne, see every speck of light in his eyes, listen to the breath he let out as his lips parted.
It wouldn't hurt to get closer. His lips must taste nice.
It would be wrong. So wrong.
You like him, don't you? And he treats you nice and likes you so much.
You love Nathan. You’d been with him for years now and loved him. He was good for you. He loved you, he provided for you. He paid most of the rent every month and 1bought most of the groceries. Your salary as a waitress could not compare to his, the one of a prestigious doctor. You couldn't leave him. It would ruin you.
Bruce has way more money than him. He would help you get back on your feet.
Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, getting away from him. This was wrong. Extremely wrong. You were dating Nathan. And that was the end of it.
“I'm sorry, Bruce,” you said, sounding more confident than you felt. “I'm in love with Nathan. Please trust me on this. I know what I'm doing.”
“I can’t just stand by and watch as he hurts you.” Bruce's voice held something to it you couldn't quite place. It felt like sorrow, like grief. You hated it. It made your stomach churn.
“He won’t hurt me anymore! He loves me!”
“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you're trying to?”
The question took you by surprise.
“I…” you stuttered, shaking your hand. “I… I believe it.”
Did you?
“If you care about me Bruce, please let me be. My relationship is none of your concern.”
“What? Please – “
“Please mind your business, Bruce.” You mumbled, pulling your jacket tighter around you, and sighing. “Thank you for the sandwich. I’ll see you around.”
You spun on your heel and walked away, leaving behind a very broken-hearted Bruce Wayne.
You were constantly on Bruce’s mind. You plagued his thoughts 24/7 – your face, your eyes, your smile, your laugh. Again and again, from the moment he woke up, to the second he closed his eyes and fell asleep. You haunted his dreams too. Cried, lovely face covered in black and purple bruises, blood dripping down your mouth. These nightmares usually ended with a blood-curdling scream from you, and Bruce waking up in cold sweats.
It wasn't pleasant. Not at all.
And the worst part was, he had no idea what to do.
“If I report him, he might hurt her even further.”
“Yes, but that was when you had no evidence. You’ve told me she told you he hit her, things are different now, she confessed he was acting abusive towards her.” Alfred said, preparing a cup of tea. Bruce had foregone coffee for a while. Ever since you made it so difficult for him to sleep, Alfred had been trying different methods of getting his boss to sleep.
“Maybe I should have a little run-in with him. Or rather, the Batman should.” Bruce muttered, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“And what good would that make, Master Wayne?”
“I’d tell him to stay away from her. Shake him up a bit. Beat him up. Teach him a lesson.”
“I thought this wasn't about revenge,” the old butler settled a cup of tea in front of Bruce and sat next to him with a sigh. “Master Wayne, may I speak freely?”
“Of course.”
“Gotham has just begun to see Batman as a symbol of hope. You don't want to scare its people by beating up a doctor. Granted, he’s a despicable man who dares hit his partner, but a doctor, nonetheless. It would be foolish to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to build so far.”
“Then what am I supposed to do, Alfred? How am I supposed to save her if I'm not Batman?”
“That is curious, because I don’t remember hearing the Miss say she liked spending time with the Batman. She did not cling to his arms and cried and told him her darkest secrets. She did not invite him for lunches and afternoon snacks and walks because she liked his company.” He mused. “She did all of that with Bruce Wayne. Perhaps you don't need a mask this time, Master Wayne. Perhaps, this time, being you is enough.”
Bruce thought the words over in his head. Alfred was right – something that happened abnormally often. You had never needed him as Batman. Just Bruce was enough.
“There’s also the fact that your family has left you a rather comfortable fortune, and more prestige that you could ever ask for. I’m sure Bruce Wayne would suffice.”
Bruce chuckled humourlessly, sipping from his cup of tea.
“She won’t open up to me, though. I mean, she will. She told me he was hurting her, that he’d pushed her. But she refused to let me help and said that I couldn't tell a soul. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?”
Alfred hummed.
“Perhaps you should invite her over again. Tell her you would like to talk. Or, you know, go to the police like a regular person and end the nightmare she is undoubtedly living.”
“I’ve done some research, Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Dr. Nathan Smith is well liked in his community. Volunteers, donates to charity, the whole ordeal. If she tells the police, it was an accident and she fell, they’re likely to believe her. We need something more concrete.”
Alfred hummed once more. He could see where Bruce was coming from. On one hand, it was endearing. He’d never cared so much about someone and was clearly smitten by you. On the other, he was afraid the man would make a move far too late.
“And your plan, Master Wayne, is?”
Bruce dropped his head on the kitchen table. The white marble felt cold against his skin, and he relished in the comfort it provided.
“I don’t know, Alfred. I don’t know.”
“I thought I told you to stop hanging out with her?”
Bruce would recognise that voice anywhere.
As soon as it reached his ears, his fists clenched involuntarily. It seemed to him it was second nature to be angry around that piece of shit.
“Nate, she’s my oldest friend… I miss her terribly; it’s been ages since we've hung out.”
You were walking a few steps ahead of him, arm linked with Nathan’s. Well, rather, Nathan was gripping your arm, and you were simply being pulled along. Harshly.
“Ah, I see. So you’d rather hang out with her than me.” Nathan scoffed and shook his head, and you turned to face him. Bruce could see the heartbreak in your eyes.
“No! That’s not true!”
“She hates me. She doesn’t think we’re good together and wants to break us apart. And you want to hang out with her. Just tell me you want to break up and leave me the fuck alone!”
Nathan shoved you away from him, before shaking his head and walking faster down the road. Your teared up and ran after him. “Nate!” you yelled. “Nate! Please!” Once you reached him, you held onto his hands tightly, trying to get him to stop. He did not. “Please, Nate, I’m sorry! I won’t bring her up again, I promise!”
Nathan kept walking, not even sparing you a glance.
“I promise Nate, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, please, forgive me!”
No one seemed to give two damns about the two of you. After all, people were selfish and did not care enough about the world around them. Only Bruce’s gaze was on you.
Nathan finally stopped, and sighed, looking at the floor.
“If you want to be her friend, and don’t love me anymore, I get it. That’s okay. You can move out, get your stuff – “
“No! No, I don’t want to be her friend, Nate, I don’t,” you pleaded, holding both his hands and shaking your head vigorously. Bruce felt like a creep, staring at you like that, staring into your private life like that, but what else could he do? “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. I promise. I love you. Okay?” You placed yourself on the tip of your toes to reach his face and kissed his lips gently. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please, I love you, please forgive me…”
Bruce swore he could see the glint of victory in Nathan’s eyes, and it made his insides churn.
“You promise?”
“I do! I promise! I love you so much, Nate, I won’t talk about her ever again. I love you and only you. You’re the love of my life!” You reached up to kiss him again, and Nathan responded, albeit unexcitedly. It was enough for you though, and you linked your hand with his. “I love you, Nate. So much. You’re the only person I need.”
The blonde man hummed, and you pulled him along. You tried your best to keep him close to you, but he wasn’t responding. That’s when Bruce decided he needed to intervene.
It was only when Bruce said your name a second time, louder, that you turned around, eyes widening with surprise.
“Bruce!” He could tell you weren’t expecting to see him here. He could also tell you were scared. Not of him, of course, but of the man at your side, by the way your whole body tensed, and your eyes drifted from him to Bruce.
“Ah. Bruce.” Nathan spit, looking at him with a fake expression of politeness. Bruce could tell his smile wasn’t real and noticed how his hold tightened on you. “What a coincidence. Have you perhaps been following us?” He laughed dryly. It was a poor attempt at a joke, and an even poorer attempt of figuring out if you’d listened to his whole conversation with you.
“Ah, no. I was just on my way home.”
“What were you up to?” you asked, voice relaxed as it often was when you were around him.
“Well, I'm celebrating the establishment of a new children's school in my family's name. It's a very important cause, and I’m throwing a party later this week. Alfred and I were shopping together.” Bruce replied.
“You? Shopping?” There was a happy tilt to your voice. Bruce only wished you would always sound like that.
“Well, I wasn’t alone. Baby steps.” He chuckled.
“And who is this Alfred?” Nathan interjected. “Some servant of yours?”
Bruce frowned. He did not like the way your boyfriend referred to the man who was the closest thing he had to a family. Still, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anger.
“Alfred is my butler. He has been with my family for many years, and I consider him part of it. He is not a servant, and it shocks me that someone surely so well-read as you would refer to someone with such a degrading term.” Bruce raised his eyebrow, and he could swear he saw Nathan shrink a bit. It made you smile. It made Bruce feel good.
“My apologies, Bruce.” Nathan responded, offering a tight-lipped smile. He did not like losing, and that’s all he felt himself doing when he was around Bruce Wayne. Losing his temper, losing his control, losing his upper hand. It was something he detested greatly. He needed to get away from there. And quick.
“Honey, we need to go. Don’t want to steal too much of Bruce’s time, do we?”
“It’s not a problem, really,” Bruce retorted, ignoring your boyfriend, and turning to you instead. That’s when he noticed what you were wearing. Another jacket – a big one, oversized, a turtleneck and a pair of jeans. Gone were your shorts and flowy tops, you were now covered from head to toe. Why? To conceal what, exactly? And now that he got a good look at your face, was the hell was going on with your lip? It seemed split. “There’s nothing else in my list. Say, do you have any plans for next Friday? I would love if you two stopped by. It’s for a good cause, and perhaps you’ll have fun?”
He had to get you there. He had to get you alone with him, safe, away from Nathan.
“A party? At Wayne Manor?” Nathan asked.
“Yes. Will you be there?”
You looked up at your boyfriend, hope in your eyes.
Nathan noticed your excitement and blew air through his nose – the closest you’d get to a chuckle.
“Of course. We would love to go.”
“Really?” You beamed. That was not the answer you were expecting from him. Nathan hated Bruce – you knew this. Did this mean he was trying? Trying to befriend your friends? For your sake?
“Of course.” Nathan bent down to kiss your forehead, earning a genuine smile from you. “If you’d like to.”
“I would!”
It was small, the notion of a happy relationship, the notion that you were happy. But Bruce saw right through it. None of it was real. He was just playing a part.
“We should get going. It was nice seeing you, Bruce.”
“Oh – okay!” you yelped when Nathan turned you around and pulled you along with him. “It was nice seeing you, Bruce! I’ll see you Friday!”
And just like that, you were gone.
But Bruce wasn’t one to give up. Something felt off. Something smelled fishy. Nathan had been too kind, too nice, too allowing. Was it all a façade? He knew Nathan would never allow you to go to a party, especially one hosted by him. Something was definitely up. His feet moved, and before he could realise it, he was following the two figures in front of him to a dark alley. He heard voices and walked deeper.
That’s how he found you, pressed up against the wall, Nathan’s hand cruelly pressed against the hollow of your throat.
“Why the fuck are you still talking to him?” Nathan grumbled, tightening the hold he had on your throat. His knuckles turned white. “Huh!? You say you love me and then go around and fuck that rich motherfucker? Is that it, yeah?”
“N-No!” you sobbed, struggling to breath. Tears streamed down your face, hands clutching his. “Nate, please. You’re hurting me.” Your words were interrupted by coughs, and just before your vision could go completely black, you saw Nathan get dragged around and thrown on the floor. As soon as your vision (and your air) returned, you saw Bruce do to Nathan what he’d done to you.
“How dare you lay your disgusting hands on her,” he bellowed, and you somehow recognised that voice. It felt familiar. Bruce turned to you, and shook his head, arm still against Nathan’s neck. “Are you okay?” You nodded silently, wiping your tears, and taking a few steps back.
Bruce was surprised no one else had interrupted the two of you, but then again, this was Gotham. It didn’t matter if Batman was ridding crime for good, people would still look the other way, far too accustomed to violence to even bother.
“Are you seriously going to let him do this?” Nathan scowled, fighting against Bruce’s iron grip – it was no use. Somehow, this rich dumb playboy was stronger than he looked.
“I… I…” You looked in between the two men, still wiping your tears away. Part of you wanted Bruce to teach him a lesson. The other wanted him to let go of your boyfriend.
“Fuck – do something! Are you going to let this brute hurt me like this!?”
“Keep your filthy mouth shut,” Bruce whispered, before turning to face you completely. “What do you want me to do?”
This surprised you. You had a choice? You could decide?
“If you want to, I’ll beat him to a pulp myself. We’ll take him to the police. I’ll protect you. I promise I will. I can take care of you. You will never have to look him in the eye again.” Bruce’s eyes were filled with longing, and you found yourself walking towards him.
Wouldn’t that be nice? Nathan could go to jail. He’d leave you alone forever. No more fighting, no more hitting you, no more hurting you. You’d be free.
“Tell him to let go!” Now, Nathan’s face was turning a nasty shade of purple, and his lovely blue eyes were wide with fear. “Tell him! Are you going to let him do this to me? I love you!”
Bruce said your name softly. “Don’t listen to him. He’s done nothing but lie to you over and over again. You can end this nightmare right now.”
“Please! I’ll be better! I promise” Nathan coughed, the lack of air getting to him. “I was just jealous! You know me, I – I get like this! I thought you were going to leave me for him! I can’t compete with Bruce Wayne.”
“Shut up.” Bruce shook his head. “All you’ve been doing is hurting her. Abusing her. Do you seriously think I’m letting you go unscathed?”
It was scary, to be honest, seeing Bruce like this. You’d never seen him this angry, and he somehow reminded you of Nathan. Granted, the anger wasn’t directed towards you, but it still made you feel uneasy and unsafe, and all you wanted him was to go back to the sweet and kind Bruce who stole spoonfulls of your ice-cream and cheated at Monopoly when you weren’t looking.
“Bruce?” you whispered, frozen in place.
“Yeah?”
“Let go.”
“What?”
“Please let go.”
He looked at you and noticed the fear in your eyes. Something inside him broke and he wanted to punish himself for making you feel like that. Were you afraid of him? His hold on Nathan’s neck loosened, and the latter took this as an opportunity to get away and walk towards you. Nathan embraced you tightly, burrowing his face in your hair and crying loudly.
“I’m so sorry… I hate myself for the way I’ve been treating you… You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness… I’m just a mess who seems to ruin everything… Please forgive me for being so possessive, I just – I just never feel like I’m worthy of you.” Nathan’s lies spilled from his lips, and the very same lips found their way to yours, kissing you softly as he held your face in his hands.
You seemed unresponsive, though, eyes fixed on Bruce. Was this how he always behaved? Had you simply not seen it before? Would he act this way towards you?
“I’m sorry…” his voice somehow got through to you. “I just… I couldn’t just stand by and watch as he hurt you…”
It was true, you gathered. He’d said it before. He’d always put himself between you and Nathan whenever you two fought. He’d never allowed Nathan to mistreat you in front of him, always protecting you – or trying to – no matter what.
Still, it had been horrifying to see those eyes who regarded you with such kindness, look at someone else with nothing but rage. To hear that lovely voice that always cheered you up sound so hateful. It wasn’t your Bruce. It simply wasn’t.
Your arms wrapped themselves around Nathan’s torso, almost as if mechanically. You had to do it. It’s what you did. Nathan yelled and fought and hurt. And then he’d apologize and take you back. It made you feel sick and nauseous and empty inside. But you knew no one else you love you like he did. No one would love you as passionately as Nathan did. And you didn’t want to be all alone.
“Let’s go home, okay, baby?” he asked, one hand caressing your cheek, the other rubbing circles on your hip affectionately. “We can cuddle and watch a movie. Anything you like. How does that sound?”
“Don’t,” Bruce pleaded, eyebrows furrowing. Were you seriously still going home with him? After all that had happened?
You did not break eye contact. You knew you shouldn’t go back home with Nate. At least a part of you did. A part of you knew this was wrong. Knew that you deserved better, knew that Nate was abusive and did not deserve you. But that part had long been defeated, and all that was left were small voices in your head that yelled “No one else is going to love you like this” repeatedly.
And you always let them win.
“Let’s go,” you mumbled.
Nathan wrapped his arm around your waist, kissed your forehead, and Bruce watched as you two left the alley.
You did not text him anymore.
And on Friday, none of you appeared at the Manor for the party.
It was close to 2 in the morning when Bruce was stirred awake by the sounds of knocking on his front door.
He’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from exploring a few new gadgets and functions Lucius had implemented on his suit. Patrol had been rough on him, the new holographic projection system taking a while to get used to, but well worth it in the end. It would spare him a handful of bruises and stress.
Alfred had retired for the night long ago, so it was just Bruce, a copy of a book you’d mentioned in passing once and he decided to read, and a fire cackling in the fireplace.
He got up, groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and made his way towards the door. Far too tired to be careful (really, who the hell would be knocking at his door at 2 in the morning? And it’s not like he could blink the sleep away in a matter of seconds. He had enough training for that) Bruce opened the door, coming face to face with a hunched figure.
“This better be good for you to be knocking on my god damned door at 2 in the morning –“
That’s when the figure in front of him shifted. It was no longer a mere figure. It was you.
You were hunched over, looking down, head covering your whole face, and Bruce could make out faint sobbing. He called your name once, twice, three times, softly. All you could do was shake your head. hands tightly clutched in front of you.
“Come on, let’s go inside.”
Bruce stepped aside so you could walk in. He would not touch you without your permission, without not knowing what had happened. You stepped inside, shaking all over. The clothes on your body were comprised of a flimsy pyjama set, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of pants. Your feet were bare save for the fluffy bunny slippers on them. You looked cold – had you left in a hurry?
“Hey, can we sit on the couch?” Bruce asked, fluffing up some pillows. You nodded and followed him, sitting down, head still hung low. Would you even look at him?
“Do you want something to drink?” He kneeled next to you but did not try to look into your eyes. He wanted to be on the same level as you, make you feel safe, but also give you the space and freedom to move away from him should you want that. He’d never want to smother you. You nodded your head softly, and Bruce was quick to move to the kitchen. He knew your favourite by heart, and within a few minutes, had it prepared and on top of the coffee table in front of you. “There it is,” he mumbled, sitting back again. He'd wait for you to take the first step.
And when you did, all the air left his lungs.
You looked up, hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, silent tears streaming down your face. Most of the lights were off, the fire being the only thing illuminating your features. Your delicate lips, your nose, your beautiful eyes, and the black and purple bruise surrounding one of them. The look Bruce gave you, whatever it was, just made you sob uncontrollably once again. He didn’t know if whether to touch you, come closer or back off, but you answered that question yourself when you wrapped your arms around him, sobbing loudly.
“I’m sorry…” you sobbed, holding onto him tightly. Bruce reciprocated the hug, spreading his legs so you could move comfortably in between them. He adjusted you in his lap and kissed your forehead, just holding you tightly.
“No, none of that,” he shushed you, rocking both your bodies back and forth. “You don’t have to apologize. Never.”
“It wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t Bruce, you have to believe me…”
“I do. I believe you. It’s not your fault.”
He wanted to know what the hell that jerk had done to you. But he knew he couldn’t – you might close yourself off even more and refuse to talk if he pressed further.
So, he made sure you were comfortable. Bruce picked you up and moved to the couch, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, and pulling you closer. You took the hint immediately, snuggling up as close as possible to him, face pressed against his neck. You were hiding from him, but it felt nice to be in his arms.
The two of you stayed like that for a while. Bruce turned on the TV and allowed you to pick a channel (“Mhm” for yes and “Hm-hm” for no) until you were watching some silly rom-com that got you chuckling occasionally. Bruce was stroking your arms gently, bending down to press kisses against your forehead whenever he felt you might need them. He wasn’t paying any attention to the movie in front of him, instead coming up with a plan to throw that idiot in jail.
After you’d finished your drink, you gathered the courage to shift in his lap and completely face him. The bruise covering your eye was on full display, and Bruce could now make out the dried blood on your lip.
“He… he hurt me, Bruce…” you mumbled, reaching for his hand. Bruce squeezed yours tightly, a silent reminder that he was there and listening, and that you weren’t alone. “I’m so scared… He pushed me and kept hitting me, and I was begging him to stop but he wouldn’t… I didn’t know what else to do, so I just waited for him to fall asleep and ran… I had to – I had to wait. He wanted to sleep next to me. He kept apologizing and promising he’d be better, so I told him it was okay, and I went to bed with him…” Bruce wiped away your tears, nodding along. Outside, he was the picture of compassion and sympathy. Inside, a fire was burning, and he had to control every bone in his body not to get into his car and drive to your (hopefully ex by now) boyfriend’s house.
“You’re so brave,” he muttered, running his hand through your hair to soothe you. “I can’t believe how hard that must’ve been. But you’re so brave, and I’m so proud of you.”
“I thought he could change,” you started to sob, shaking your head. “He – he said he would. He said that he loved me a lot and he’d only hit me because he was jealous and afraid I would leave him. All because I told him I regretted not going to your party that Friday… I’m so sorry, Bruce.”
“No apologies needed. You’re not the one to blame here, okay? It’s him, and him alone.” His hands reached up to wipe your tears, and you flinched, the pressure of his fingers on your bruise sending painful memories through your head. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Let’s take care of this, shall we?”
And he did.
Bruce took you to the master bathroom and sat you on top of the counter while he fetched his first-aid kit and a few ointments and creams. Your hands never left him as he worked – on his shirt, on his shoulders, on his hands. He cleaned the bruise with some water and pressed an ice pack against it to reduce the swelling. He told you a few anecdotes that had happened at Wayne Enterprises – angry costumers who tried to scam him, spilled coffees, and other amusing situations – to keep you grounded. His voice was like a lifeline to you.
After the swelling was taken care of, he softly applied ointment around your eye, being careful as to not put too much pressure on the pads of his fingers. He smeared some of it on the tip of your nose, earning a smile from you, before moving on to your lip and taking care of it too. Once all was done, he took a step back.
“Don’t look at me like that…” you mumbled, looking away.
“How?”
“Like that. Like I’m pitiable.”
“Hm.” Bruce tilted his head, pretending to think your statement over, “No. Not pitiable – that’s not who I’m looking at.”
You met his gaze again.
“I’m looking at the bravest woman I have probably ever known.” He crouched in front of you to stay at your eye level. Your hands did not leave his. “I’m looking at a remarkable woman, one with a big heart and a courageous spirit. You’ve endured all of this, and you’re still standing.”
“I’m a coward, Bruce,” you shook your head. “I let him to this to me. I let him break me. He’s right – who would ever love me after him? Who will ever love me like him? Maybe this was a mistake – I shouldn’t have left me. He’s the only one who will love me as I am.”
Bruce was quick to refute you.
“He’s wrong. I hope you know just how wrong he is. Nathan has spent all this time hurting you, lying to you.”
“He hasn’t – I’m broken, I’m damaged goods – who will ever want me?”
“You’re not damaged goods. You hear me? You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re so kind and brave. What you endured is beyond me, and I know I will never understand it, but please believe me when I say that you’re not broken. You’re not damaged. And Nathan is not right. He’s lied to you.”
You looked at him and searched his eyes for any sign of falsehood, of deceit. All you found was kindness. And a warmer emotion you couldn’t pinpoint yet but wanted to figure out.
“You light up even the darkest of days,” Bruce mumbled, moving closer to you. His hand moved to cup your face and you instinctively pressed against it. You’d never felt safer than whenever you were in Bruce’s arms. “And I will do everything in my power to protect you. To keep you safe. The truth is…” He looked at the floor for a few seconds, before meeting your eyes again. “I love you.” You sucked in a breath. “I have, for a while. And I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, nor what you need to hear. And I’m not saying this to force you to be with me, especially after I took care of you. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t expect compensation. I don’t. I’m just saying this because – because I want you to know Nathan is wrong. You’re not damaged goods. And I love you. So much. Ever since I met you, my life has been happier, brighter. For years I’ve had a hole inside of me. Something empty, something that would eat me up from the inside. But then you came along. And you filled that void. And Nathan is so, so wrong, because how could someone not love you? How could someone not love you? How could he try and make you believe you’re not worthy of love, when that’s all you deserve?”
Tears were now streaming down both of your faces. Bruce had never been this vulnerable before, and to his surprise, it didn’t hurt nor scare him. It felt right, to trust you like this, to open up.
“You don’t need to say it back. Please don’t feel forced to say it back. I just wanted you to know that you’re worthy of love, and that I’ll be here to help you. Always. Even if all you feel towards me is friendship. I’ll protect you forever, I promise. He will never touch you again. No one will.”
When you did not reply, Bruce’s stomach fell. Had he screwed up? Had this been a terrible occasion to let you know of his feelings? It wasn’t ideal, no, but he had to tell you. Fuck. He had screwed up, didn’t he? And now he would lose you forever –
You interrupted his thoughts, hands on his jaw, pulling him closer. You blinked slowly – once, twice.
“I love you too,” you whispered, afraid that should you say it any louder, the fantasy might break. “I think I have for a while too. But I was so scared, Bruce… I have nothing to offer – I work a shitty job, and Nathan was paying for everything. My bills, my groceries, my clothes. I was so afraid of leaving. And then whenever I was with you, all I felt… Was happiness.” You chuckled through the tears. “You made me feel so happy, Bruce. And so safe. I always feel safe with you. But I was so scared… I’m so sorry…”
“No – shh. You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” Bruce shook his head, turning to place a kiss on your palm. “You’re so brave. Have I said this already? You’re so brave. I’m so sorry for everything you had to endure. I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything earlier. Shit, I’m an idiot. I should’ve reported him to the police as soon as I realised he was hurting you, but I was too scared he’d turn their heads and you’d get the short end of the stick.”
You smiled, something warm blooming in your chest. Bruce really did care for you, didn’t he?
“My plan was to report him, but I didn’t know if you’d lie to the police in order to cover everything up. I was afraid you would, and he would hurt you further. I’m sorry.”
You repeated his words back to him.
“You don’t have to be sorry. You always stood up for me whenever Nathan was around. You never let him talk to me the way he did whenever you were there. I just wish I hadn’t been so blind… I wish I’d trusted you the first time you told me he was no good… It’s just – we’d been together for so long, and I was so afraid to leave him. Nathan was all I knew. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to be unloved.”
“You’re not.” Bruce shook his head again. “Not unloved. I love you. You’re worthy of love, and happiness, and kindness, and good things.”
You nodded at him, a single tear running down your cheek. This one, however, was a tear of happiness. Your eyes flickered to his lips, and Bruce whispered.
“Can I kiss you?”
You chuckled.
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
“Is this funny?” he asked with a smile.
“You’re always asking for my permission. If you can touch me, if you can hold me.”
“I would never do anything you were uncomfortable with. Anything you didn’t want.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Please kiss me,” you mumbled, and no other words were needed, as Bruce closed the space between the two of you and kissed you on the lips.
It was the softest kiss you’d ever had in your entire life. There was no roughness, no edge, no anger, or rage – all the things Nathan kissed you with. Bruce, however, kissed you with love. His lips moved in tandem with yours, brushing and caressing and telling a story of tenderness and warmth. It felt nice. It felt perfect. It felt like you had been made to kiss him. You pulled him up by his shirt, and he did so, placing his hands on either side of the marble to trap you. Your legs spread instinctively to accommodate him, and his hands brushed against your cheeks and hair, fingers shyly exploring, afraid to break the moment he’d been waiting for for so long. It was only a shame it had to be in these circumstances.
When breathing became more important than kissing, you pulled away and Bruce pulled you against his chest. You breathed him in, the smell of cologne and bodywash and something so inherently Bruce calming you down almost instantly.
“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered, gripping his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you alive right now. And maybe it was. You needed him.
“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” he whispered back, kissing your forehead. “And I’ll fix this. We will fix this.”
“What if he comes after me? He’s a very respected doctor, Bruce, I – I don’t want him to hurt you or anything.”
This caused Bruce to chuckle and pull you back to look at your face. Even with a terrible bruise covering your features, you were the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Your courage and kindness only added to that charm. What a lucky guy he was.
“I don’t usually brag about my status, but I happen to be Bruce Wayne. I’ll take care of him. I promise. You won’t have to worry about anything.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”
You smiled. Bruce loved your smile.
“Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked, caressing the side of your cheek that wasn’t bruised. “I can sleep in one of the guest rooms. My bed is quite comfortable, you can stay there. Unless you want to stay somewhere else? I won’t force you to stay here.”
You shook your head.
“Here is fine. Although…”
“Yes? I’ll do anything.”
A blush crept up on your features.
“I… I don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t.”
Bruce nodded.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
“Please.”
Bruce gave you a soft look, a quiet question, asking for your permission. You answered it by lifting your arms and allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, and you sighed at how comfortable it was. He smiled. You looked content as you adjusted, getting under the covers.
“Are you going to join me or just stare at me like that?”
“I’m just happy you’re here. Safe, with me,” he said. “I’m sorry the circumstances were… not the best.”
“I’m here now, though, aren’t I? And so are you.”
“I am. I’m not going anywhere.”
Bruce moved and laid down next to you, pulling the covers over himself. “Can I?” he asked. You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around you, bringing you close to his chest. Your bodies fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had come together at last. You entwined your legs with his and rested your head on his chest while his arms snaked around you, protecting you even in your sleep. The beat of his heart soothed you and lulled you to slumber in an instant.
Before you lost conscience, you felt Bruce’s lips move against your head, and made out a soft “I love you”.
It was the best you’d ever slept.
It was hard adjusting to live after that, but Bruce was there for you every step of the way.
You finally filed a report against Nathan. It was tough, and you cried and doubted yourself when you gave your statement, but with Bruce by your side, you felt like you could do it. He reminded you of how brave you really were, and how much you could accomplish – with him or without him. But you liked his company anyway.
Thanks to Bruce’s resources, an investigation was conducted. You’d kept records of nearly every time the two of you fought in your diary, and even photographed every bruise he’d given you. He did not know of this, of course. You did it whenever he was asleep, a small voice in your head telling you it’d be useful to bring him down.
Apparently that little voice had been right, and your pictures were essential for the investigation.
Your friends testified in your favour, and you had cried when they’d hugged you after, congratulating you on your bravery, and lamenting what you’d gone through. You’d missed them so much.
All seemed like it was going in the right direction.
Your old apartment had been cleared, and although you’d gotten a place of your own (Bruce told you he did not want you to feel like you had to move in with him simply because he was helping you out and you two were in the beginning of a relationship), you found yourself spending more time at Bruce’s manor than your own house, and you quickly sold it in order to move in with him.
Everything was going perfectly.
You felt happy – more than ever – going about your daily job, meeting with friends for coffee and lunch and walks on the park without being berated or yelled at. Bruce supported you on every endeavour you went on, encouraging you to spend time with your friends and go out with them, instead of keeping you home all to himself like Nathan did.
In fact, Bruce was the perfect boyfriend. He’d bring you breakfast in bed sometimes, offer you rides to your job, bring you flowers when he could tell you’d had a hard day, and even when he had to cancel date nights or other plans you two had made because of some last minute emergency at Wayne Enterprises, he made it up to you later, with lots of love and reassurance, perhaps a bouquet of flowers and a ticket to whatever event you’d been interested in.
Bruce reminded you of what love felt like. True love. He never raised his voice at you, opting to voice out his concerns in a calming manner. He never made you feel like you weren’t worthy of him – quite the contrary. Every single day, he thanked you for choosing him, letting you know just how lucky he was to have you in his life.
Alfred liked you too – very much. He adopted you as his family rather quickly, teaching you how to make your favourite drinks (even better than you used to do them), and spending time with you whenever Bruce wasn’t home, and you felt particularly lonely. He liked having you around. In his opinion, “Master Wayne was in need of a woman’s touch in his house and his life”. You couldn’t agree more and loved him immensely.
There was only one time you crossed paths with Nathan after you’d left him that night.
The Gotham Police had gathered enough information and evidence to build a case against him, and you’d been called to testify. You weren’t sure you wanted to do it – you were still scared of whatever he could do to you.
That day, Bruce sat you down on his lap, kissed your forehead and promised Nathan wouldn’t even be able to touch you, and that he and your friends would be there.
It was all the reassurance you needed, and although you choked back a sob once or twice once your gaze met his, your testimony was clear and strong, and it was enough for the trial to be wrapped up in around two days (and perhaps Bruce had pulled a few strings to get it over it so quickly, but you didn’t need to know that, now did you?)
As he was being handcuffed, Nathan turned to you, face twisted in agony.
“Babe – “ he yelled, doing his best to free himself from the police officers’ grips. “I’m so sorry – tell them this is just a misunderstanding! Tell them! I love you so much, fuck, don’t let them do this to me!”
When it was obvious you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, he furrowed his eyebrows.
“You slut! You stupid bitch! I bet you’re fucking him, aren’t you? You’re fucking the rich bastard, aren’t you? I knew it! You’re a slut – you’re disgusting! No one will ever love you as I loved you, you’re a slut now, and you’ll be a slut fore – “
Bruce’s fist collided with Nathan’s face, promptly shutting him the fuck up. He adjusted his cuffs and his blazer and offered you a doe-eyed look.
“I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Officers, I’ll be sure to guarantee you all a very nice Christmas bonus if you keep this little incident in between us.”
The excited nods from the officers around him were enough of an answer for him to walk away unscathed. That, and your giggles.
“Couldn’t stand hearing him go on and on about you like that,” he’d muttered to you lately as you cuddled up together on the couch and watched a movie.
That was the last you saw and heard of Nathan. You’d heard Bruce tell Alfred that he was going to be locked up for eternity one day, and while it was suspicious (surely it wouldn’t warrant him a life sentence, would it?), the thought of Bruce using his influence to put your abusive ex-boyfriend behind bars forever made you smile.
Right now, you were sitting on top of a plaid picnic blanket in the gardens of Wayne Manor. On your right hand was a book, on your left hand the chocolate brown curls of your boyfriend, whose head was resting on top of your lap.
You had never felt so at peace with yourself.
Your physical scars had faded, bruises had healed, leaving your soft skin as it once was, but you were sure the emotional ones would remain. Luckily, you had the best boyfriend in the world to aid you in every step of the way.
His voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, eyes closed. This was one of his favourite things to do – lay on your lap after a hard week and relax under the sun. It was one of your favourites as well. You got to spend time with the person you loved the most and remind yourself that even though your life was so dark once, it could get better. It was getting better.
“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”
“Not so bad?”
“Fine. You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“Hmm. That’s a lot of responsibility.” He raised an eyebrow.
“I think you’ll manage.”
Bruce chuckled and lifted his head up ever so slightly. You rolled your eyes with a smile. How needy. Bending down, you met him halfway, kissing him tenderly. His tongue swept over your lower lip, and you sighed contentedly before he pulled away and closed his eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Bruce. So much.”
Yes.
Everything was going to be better.
A/N: And that's it! Oh my god what a rollercoaster hahaha! I hope you guys enjoyed this! I understand all abusive relationships are different - a lot of this came from my own experience.
I also hope the ending, the little epilogue wasn't too rushed! I wanted it to be a nice conclusion, not dwelling too much on the past, but rather focusing on the hope of the future.
Alright, this is all! I think I'll take a break from Bruce fics for a while, hahaha. Once again, I really do hope you all enjoyed this.
Have a wonderful day ahead! <3
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bale!bruce wayne#bale!batman x reader#bale!batman#bale!bruce wayne x reader#the dark knight#the dark knight trilogy#nolanverse#the dark knight fanfiction#the dark knight fanfic#bruce wayne fanfiction#bruce wayne x fem!reader
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Hi, could you write about charles being domineering and possessive? I love your writing, smut please!
Well this turned out toxic lol, enjoy :**
Warnings: charles is controlling and toxic, face slapping, cnc, fingering, oral, video footage, p in v, the plot is needed
Charles?
Yes, my love?
You said the business dinner is tomorrow at seven right?
Yes, why?
Well, - I really wanted to visit my friends. I haven't seen them in a while.
-
You two were lying in the bed now, ready to sleep. At least Charles was, your mind was drifting away. You and Charles were dating for some time already. You were losing counts because Charles made sure you celebrate each month of being together. Giving you gifts, inviting you to luxury dinners, beautiful operas and showing you off practically everywhere. Sometimes when you wanted anything more chill, he made sure to make your wish come true. So you were indeed very happy with him. But last months were all about the two of you and you started missing your friends, even though you are a good friend and are always there for them, even if it means only texting and calling each other every second day.
-
Baby but I've told you about the dinner soon enough.
I know, it's just - I haven't seen them in person for a while.
YN, I need you there.
He was right. You indeed knew about this dinner soon enough, yet you was sad you have to cancel on them.
Ok - you said unhappy. In reaction, Charles squeezed you even more then before and held you tightly for the rest of the night.
>>>>>>>>>>
The next day you went to work and thought about the upcoming event. Another business dinner, it wasn't anything fun. All they did was talk business and bad jokes about politics or women. Charles wasn't participating in these, but others were - even if they had their wives right next to them. You've told Charles you don't like to spend your evenings like this but he's told you you are his woman, and he needs you there.
On the way back home, you opened your phone.
*4 missed calls from Charles*
You forgot to check your phone the whole day. As you were looking on the screen, you've heard the squeal of the tires. Taking your head up to its direction, you saw the man walking out of his car.
It was Charles. Making his way towards you with hard and fast walk. Face expression unreadable.
Where have you been???
At work-
Then why you don't take my calls??
I forgot to check my phone!
His tall figure over your own made you feel uneasy. He was cruel with his tone, words and glare. His presence was so domineering you felt small. The twist in your stomach was creeping out so you looked back to the screen of your telephone. You've heard him exhale.
I was scared that something happened to you.
No Charles, I just forgot.
He nodded and took you by your hand, leading you to the car.
>>>>>>>>>>
As there were some hours left for you to get ready for the business dinner, you sat comfortable on the couch and messaging your friends. You were smiling at their jokes as you've told them about yours and Charles's plan tonight.
This guy! It's not enough for him to live with you! He needs to have you all the time for himself!
We will fight for you YN. We're not giving up.
Totally, I will make my fabulous pinna colada leaving him in agony and delight at the same time, he will have a hard time to focus, so you could sneak off and spend time with us!
As you chuckled, you've felt a warm breath on your neck. Charles was hovering over you, he seemed rather unbothered by the fact, he was invading your privacy.
Charles!
Who are you texting?
My friends as you can see
Alright then.
He walked back to the bathroom leaving you alone, in a weird state, but you you decided not to think about that.
You tossed your phone on the couch and went to prepare yourself. You opened your closet searching for the perfect dress today. - red long dress with slit without straps and bare back.
Not these.
You turned around to look at him in confusion.
Why not?
Because i don't need any man to look at you like you're a piece of meat.
You were speechless. Is he being real? From when he is acting like this. He always wanted to show you off so others could be jealous of him. You didn't mind this behavior, or when he was making the decision for both of you, but this was getting a little uncomfortable to you. You were still looking at the dress you were holding in your hand and did not wanted to give up on them.
Take the silver one, they are perfect for this occasion.
Hmm,….alright…… - you answered Charles and dressed yourself. Yes, they were indeed beautiful as well. Just not your first choice tonight.
>>>>>>>>>>
As you were working on the last details in front of the mirror, Charles appeared behind you.
You saw his eyes lingering over you body which made you blush a little.
Your boobs got bigger.
What?
I said your boobs are bigger.
It's not possible, Charles. Unless I'm pregnant which I'm not.
You sure about that?
You stopped paying attention to your earrings, leaving them on the counter. You looked at Charles. His intense gaze piercing right through you. It was getting hot in the room.
Of course I'm sure.
I wouldn't mind YN. Actually, - I'd be thrilled.
He went closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you on the neck. Leaving wet spots on your skin and hands going a little lower squeezing your abdomen. You moaned a little and put your back to his torso to feel him more. He reacted with a stronger squeeze and biting your neck.
Charles stop-p, I cannot have a hickey - you giggled a little and pressed your butt into his crotch. He stopped kissing your neck and positioned his mouth right next to your ear.
Don't tell me what to do.
Your eyes had a hint of surprise and uneasiness when he straightened his posture and backed off a little. His eyes once again on your body.
You will change.
What?
The dress. It's too provocative.
No Charles, I will not change!
Stop with raising your voice.
No! I've already changed just for you and I'm not gonna do it again!These are fine.
His eyes darkened, and it appeared he stopped breathing as well for a moment. As you wanted to put your earrings on again, he abruptly went closer to you and took his hand to your neck. Squeezing around your throat.
If you will - again - try to raise your voice at me and disobey me, I will throw you on the desk right here right now and fuck you hard you will struggle taking a seat at the dinner. You want that?
You could feel his breath all over your face it made you shiver. And his grip on your neck got stronger you felt scared. You immediately shook your head.
Good - he nodded and kissed your temple on the side.
>>>>>>>>>>
You didn't talk to Charles the whole ride. You were mad at him for putting such a scene back home. You've decided to talk to him about it when you finally be left alone. He has always listened to you and wanted you to tell him anything what's bothering you. Your happiness was his priority.
You greeted others and found a place to sit around the table. Throughout the whole occasion, Charles held you tightly and kept the greetings short and simple.
The dinner was all the same. Boring stuff to talk about and good food. As you looked up from your plate, your gaze met with this other man. His name was George. He is the youngest one and with so much less experience. Charles was the younger one as well but he had a talent in this, offering him to be on better position even at such a young age. George smiled at you and you smiled back. Feeling a tight squeeze on your thigh, your gaze shot to Charles. He was smiling at you lightly, but it didn't meet his eyes.
After the main meal you took a second drink for you and talked to other women, more of like listened to what they had to say, because you really didn't have anything in common. Run away as fast as you can, a life with a business man will drain you sweetheart. You offered them a polite smile and excused yourself. On the way to the toilets you bumped into someone. You looked up and saw one of the husband of those women.
Oh hello there darling.
Good evening Javi.
Being alone, just by yourself?
No, I just need to use the bathroom.
You felt uncomfortable. Javi was a slime. Charles was probably right to wear a different dress for today's evening. You wanted to say a goodbye to him, but he spoke up again.
You know, my wife and I are together for a long time-
-YN!
Charles was now approaching the both of you. Big relief spreading through your body.
I'd like to have YN for myself. Now.
Of course Charles, I get it. Totally.
He smiled back at you and went back to the main dining room, leaving you and Charles in the hall.
What were you doing here alone?
Nothing, I needed to go to the toilets.
Oh really, with Javi?
Charles are you for real?
He pressed his body to yours, making you step back to hit the wall behind you. He was mad and you didn't know why.
Stop playing with me YN.
I'm not! I'm telling the truth!
I'm so sick of sharing you cherie.
Sharing me? I'm with you, what do you mean?
He grabbed your arm and tossed you around to on the narrow conference table on the side.
You yelped with pain.
Stop playing with me.
I'm not!
You sure are. As if ti wasn't enough already. You trying to run away from me?
WHAT?
You don't pay attention to me anymore. Always speaking of your friends of how you want to be with them. Where does that leave me at?
C-Charles, that's not true! I live with you, I'm with you, I love you!
You do?
Of course. Why on earth would you think that I don't?
His face softened a little but his eyes told otherwise.
Alright. But I'm done sharing.
With who?
Everyone. I hate the fact they have access to you. And flirting with George?
I didn't flirt with him.
I saw it.
He pulled your dress up and sat you down on the table. You hit the wood below you hard. He grabbed you by the knees and strechted your legs to the sides making you cry his name in pain. He moved his hands to your hips and pulled you closer to his crotch. When you looked back at him, you had never seen a darker look on his face. There was tension, pain and determination. He started to move in such a way that he rammed his erect penis into your clit. The stimulation clouded your mind and you let yourself drift away for a moment of pleasure. The movements were slow, yet hard, in small circles. But it was not enough for you. You started to thrust right at against him but he stopped reciprocating. When you opened your eyes, you could see a cheeky smile. All logic coming back to you with loud exhale.
Charles
What YN
Stop it, we cannot do it here
We are exactly doing it here.
No
Making entertainment for other guests in the evening was the last thing on your wish list. You were about to move up and close your legs back together, but before you could do it, a slap landed on your face. Terrified, you looked up, tears welling up in your eyes.
If you wanna apologize to me about flirting with other man, you will take me right here right now so everyone will know for sure who you belong to.
He grabbed the nape of your neck and pounced on your lips harshly. Demanding for you to open your mouth. It was hard to resist, he was much stronger. He had access now to deep throat you leaving you breathless. The sound of others flowed down the corridor where you were and it made you think again. But before it could escalate, he spread your legs open and moved the hem of your panties to the side. Playing with your folds, his index finger running up and down and middle finger teasing your hole. You're always so wet for me. The tension building up in your abdomen was getting uncomfortable and you complained with loud groan. He chuckled and thrusted three fingers in you. Making you gag on your own breath.
Better cherie?
You moaned loud and uncontrollably. You squeezed your walls against him feeling the high approaching. But he teased you, slowing his movements and soothingly pecking your neck.
Charles!
Take a proper look on yourself cherie
What are you talking about?
He put his hand deep in pocket to pull out his phone. With a couple fast movements, he found what he was looking for. It was you in the bathroom, the day you first tried out your new toy.
You have cameras in our bathroom????
Yes - so I can look at in anytime when I'm at work.
Shame and embarrassment flew through you, an incredible heat filled your body and you wanted to hide. You couldn't believe you were dating someone who had cameras in their own bathroom.
You're mine after all. I have every right to do it.
Before could decide to protest anyway, he started once more to finger you. He went down and licked your clit. Meanwhile his other hand showed you the video of you moaning. It made you so horny you forgot about everything and felt the pleasure building fast. Hearing yourself made you more hot in combination with what Charles was doing with his tongue. Seeing him on his knees for you, degrading you at the same time with the video and pleasing you over the top. You moaned more with each one and when finally, he stopped. Writhing on the spot you cried out.
Pleeasse
You liked watching yourself?
He chuckled as he stood up, got rid of his belt, opened his trousers and let him set free. He stroked himself while cupping your breasts.
Yes, definitely bigger. I want to see them.
It was hard for you to pull the dress down, but you did eventually.
He pinned your nipples. Taking his tip to your hole and shoving himself inside of you making your toes curl. His pace was fast and hard. Taking you by the throat, he fucked you without mercy.
You. - thrust - are. - thrust - mine. Do. - thrust - you. - thrust - un. - thrust - der. - thrust - stand?
He breathed to your ear. You screamed YES, wanting to come already. You felt your pussy throbbing in pain from all the stimulation.
I should have married you. Put a baby inside of you sooner.
You came with his spoken words and rocked on his cock for the rest of your orgasm. Leaving you breathless, you calmed down a little.
I've switched your pills…..
#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you
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Relentless (1/?)
Max Verstappen x Fem Driver Reader!
Y/n YLN was the only other driver others feared on the track besides the Dutchman himself. She maintained a 1st to 2nd place spot on the podium every race. Even though she was fairly new to F1 and in her 2nd season, she was a force to be reckoned with. The only problem was she had yet to win a championship. Max always beat her to it. The rivalry started early on when they had there first run in, quite literally, in Spain. It was lap 64 and y/n was ahead of Max leading the race until he got within DRS range and tried pushing past her and in the last second she turned to defend but it was to late. He hit the back of her car and they spun out. Max was able to stop before hitting the barrier but she hit head on.
“ Y/n are you ok???. Please respond”, Liz your race engineer asked.
Seconds passed by and there was no response and as smoke started to come out of the engine the extent of the accident raised a new level of urgency. The safety car came on track as drivers began returning to the pits. Max was already out of the car but instead of checking on you he walked back to his garage.
“ Y/n, say something!!.”
Again, nothing. Every second felt like forever to onlookers and just as they feared the worst, you groaned as you turned the radio on and with a shaky breath rasped out,
“Ok…”
Liz along with the rest of the crew breathed out a sigh of relief as you responded. The more you thought about how you got here, the more your head hurt. Most likely a concussion. The smell of burning rubber and the smoky haze snapped you back to reality as you turned around to see a small fire coming from the engine. It didn’t take you long for you to react as you reached down, unbuckled yourself and climbed out. Your knees buckled when you stood and had no choice but to crawl away from the car as the flames grew. Everything happened so fast that you zoned out. When you finally came back to, you were in the ambulance headed to the hospital.
The total damage was a concussion, a fucked up car and your pride. After being on a winning streak since the begging of the season it was gone in the blink of an eye. They wanted to keep you overnight but you refused and returned to the garage.
As much as you wanted to be anywhere but here, you felt you owed an explanation to Toto. It technically wasn't your fault but that didn't stop you from blaming yourself.
" Toto I really want to apologize. I tried to defend but I didn't think he would hit me. I'm so sorry I disappointed you.."
"Y/n don't. It wasn't your fault. You're an amazing driver and I have full confidence in you. You'll be back on top by the next race so don't beat yourself up. All that matters is that you're ok."
Toto wasn't a super affectionate guy but he had a soft spot for you. He hugged you before being called away by an engineer. Although his words were reassuring they didn't make you feel better. The expectations were high from others, but not as much as your own.
The race was over and the results were in. Checo first, Charles second and Carlos third. The first podium without Mercedes since the beginning of the season. Lewis got 4th so we still gained points. The disappointment you felt in yourself was strong but the anger overshadowed. As much as you wanted to march into the Red Bull garage and go ballistic on Max, the media would eat it up and spin it so you looked like an over emotional woman who didn’t belong there. So for now, you’d wait till you were away from prying eyes to address him. Lewis had just walked into the garage and stopped as soon as he saw you.
“ Y/n, you’re back!. How are you feeling??”
“ I’m ok, just pissed.”
Since joining Mercedes you immediately clicked with Lewis. He was the only person you felt comfortable opening up to and he actually listened and was honest when you needed to hear the truth. He knew how hard you were on yourself when you lost so he already planned to have a sleepover later with your favorite snacks and movie. It was a tradition at this point.
“ I just can’t believe he would do that. It was clearly sabotage. What pisses me off most is that he probably won’t get punished cause he’s Max Verstappen, the golden boy.”
Lewis sighed as he nodded. He knew first hand from losing his 8th championship to Max. After talking a little longer you eventually went your own ways for media duties. Every question was the same and so was every answer you gave, no comment. Looking around you hadn’t seen Max once. Pierre said that after the crash Max walked into his garage like a madman kicking shit around screaming and went straight to his room to change and left. What a pussy, you thought. The guys invited you out but you were just not in the mood. Lando tried his puppy dog eyes which in most cases worked, just not today.
Weirdly enough even after getting in a crash you still had energy to burn so you changed and headed to the gym. You were so deep into your workout you hadn't noticed Max had at some point walked in and made a beeline to you.
“ What the hell!” You screamed as someone yanked off your headphones. Max of course...
“You cost me a podium today!.”
“ Are you fucking delusional?. You tried to pass me, trashed my car and cost me a podium. You knew you wouldn’t be able to make it through and couldn’t bare the thought of losing to me again!.”
“You’re the one who swerved last second and caused the wreck!. You think you’re so good cause you won a few races?. You're pathetic!. Next time, get out of my way!.”
In that moment you had the textbook definition of black out rage cause your hand moved on its own as your fist collided with his nose.
“Crazy bitch!.”
You smirked as you grabbed him by his collar and brought his face closer to yours,
“ You have no idea. Humor me, are you threatened because I’m beating you or because I’m a girl and beating you?. Learn how to lose Verstappen cause you won't be on top forever, ill make sure of that.”
Max was at a loss for words. Who did this woman think she was challenging him?. Before he could respond you walked away.
Already showered and changed you heard a knock revealing a giddy Lewis with a bag of snacks and his signature smile. Settled in bed snuggled up to Lewis you thought about your encounter with Max.
“Everything ok?.”
You contemplated telling him about today but decided not to so you just nodded. He of course knew you were lying but didn’t press you since you weren’t in the mood so he accepted your answer. The movie ended and while Lewis was asleep you were awake thinking of how to win your next race and the race after and... actually why not think bigger. How about winning the rest of the season?. The thought of Max losing put a smile to your face as you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep.
It was a game of tit for tat fluctuating between 1st and 2nd place the rest of the season. Mercedes had never been better managing a podium every race and ending with 2nd in constructers by the end of the season. Red Bull kept there streak with 1st in constructors. Max was first in drivers but you took second much to Red bulls dismay since you took Checos spot. At this point Max was a 4 time champion. Usually everyone was planning vacations for break but all you could think of was the next season and the possibility to win your first championship. The best part wouldn’t just be the championship, it would be the look on Max’s face when you beat him to it. The thought was orgasmic. For now though you had a celebration to attend with the guys which unfortunately included Max. How bad can it be right?…..
Taglist-
@itsjustkhaos
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#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#formula one#formula 1#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 grid x reader#f1 x reader
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how do u think a younger!charles and older!max dynamic would be different than same age!lestappen? ever since u mentioned ur new wip… i’ve been going a little insane
yeah. me too anon...
ok i'm putting a cut in here because i rambled for SO long abt like. just lestappen to be honest
honestly i think my fic is probably not the right place to like. properly explore this because it's a time slip au so like. charles knows what His max is like and they've still grown up together etc but his big dilemma is trying to marry that together in his head with older max. because charles knows like. pre-world champion borderline mad max era max and then when he's confronted with a more mature older max it's difficult for him to reconcile......like i've been doing research for the winner's room au and in 2019 seb and lewis were still publicly saying that they race max differently to others because he's fucking crazy so LMFAO
but also charles in 2018 was still very much. a bit of a hater.....like i know for the past couple of years they've been all smiles and like oh we have a good relationship! in the past it was tense :))) but we're all good now! but in 2018 charles was very much like. i can't say we have a good relationship but I'm Not Here To Make Friends .... and max was literally silent abt it....so from the perspective of an age gap it's very much charles trying to be like. how the fuck is my older self in a relationship with MAX VERSTAPPEN and also why's he so soft and goofy and genuine and charming oh......dear.....what if he fucked me so i can get back to my original timestream.......
but honestly for a proper age difference au i struggle to say. bcs so much of lestappen to me is their history so divorced from that i think their dynamic would be very different and like. i hesitate to say not as compelling.....like. i'm so sorry to quote jos verstappen but this quote about them during their karting days lives in my mind rent free
A PROPHECY................ like to me this is why age gap lestappen is honestly for me. purely about getting to write older max fucking sauber charles. because sauber charles was still like. not that charles is exactly a rippling muscle monster now but like. in 2018 he was a tad more twinky....and max is like. Bigger now. so for me it's about aesthetics literally just because of the fact that like. to me it's always about the History.
ALSO i can't remember who said it i think it was one of my mutuals so full credit to whichever big brained beauty said this. but they pointed out that like. when max started driving lewis and seb and kimi etc always described his driving as over the line but charles has ALWAYS described driving against max as 'on the limit' and like. they know each other well from their karting days and they know how to race each other.............god. much to think about
however i think a true age gap au would have max being irritated by charles treating him exactly how max used to treat older drivers and just being fucking crazy. because max might have the mad max rep but like. charles is not exactly the epitome of safe sane and consensual racing himself.....anybody remember monza 2023
having said all that. please go and read frechheit by @additiva . i find lestappen age gap SO unbelievably compelling in this fic like. it is absolutely delicious and i think will satisfy your need for age gap lestappen and like. still somehow draws in all the regular lestappen insanity....being soulmates and knowing exactly how to race each other even sort of divorced from their history and it is just Brilliant !!
sorry for not answering your question at all. i'm so glad ur excited for the fic though ily <3
#ask#i'm actually embarrassed about how much i wrote#this is just me yapping about lestappen and not answering your question at all anon. i'm so sorry#lestappen#i hate tagging it cos i don't want it to end up in the tag but. i also know some people need it blocked so...
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Hiya!! I’m absolutely in love with this event you’re doing and wanted to put in an order with you if possible 🥲❤️
Can I please have a glazed donut with caramel and a touch of whipped cream, a Neapolitan rose cake with poppy seeds and whipped cream and a #1 (Kidd) from the secret menu?
For a f!reader (Gn reader is also perfect, whatever you’re comfortable with!)
Thank you so so much!!
hihi!! ty for being patient with my very slow writing 😭💓 anyway i love kidd he's so fun to write and he's just so silly being grumpy like that all the time. i wrote this like i was possessed so i hope you enjoy 😊also as u know enemies 2 lovers is my shit, i love it sfm.
3.3k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; smut, enemies 2 lovers, hurt/comfort, a splash of angst (nothing major it's so tame i promise maybe), and fluff if pretend real good (jk it's there somewhere); feat. oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, kid being a bigass bully but reader dishes it back, kid is a mean bitch when he's jealous but what's new, reader likes it ok; is this toxic??? maybe a lil idk, i'm into it ok. both of them need to do better; killer makes a brief cameo!
(if u see grammar/spelling mistakes, no u didn't :))
“listen, memory’s got a hard heart and a soft head. / whatever light the eye sees, the heart says dark, dark, dark.” — charles wright
an empty beer bottle shatters on impact the moment eustass kid chucks it at the wall near your head; thankfully your keen senses allow you to miss the attack, just barely.
“care to explain,” you say as carefully and as cordially as you can, teeth grinding against each other every time you pause to calm yourself, “why the entire fuck did you throw that at me?” you keep your distance from your hot-tempered captain, staring fiercely at him, not at all fazed by his intimidating presence.
kid pours himself a glass of scotch and ignores you altogether, grunting noisily before downing the drink all at once.
“kid,” your tone is anything but amiable, he can taste your annoyance even from across the room; everyone had cleared the kitchen once you and kid started arguing — the crew has been privy to one too many explosive fights and they were tired of breaking them up. when it doesn’t look like he’s going to answer truthfully, you roll your eyes and toss your hair over your shoulders. “know what? i’m done, i’m leaving this stupid ship, because there’s no way i’m going to survive with a shitty captain like you.” the words leave your mouth much too fast, spurned by the two glasses of wine you had previously.
you weren’t even mad that he threw the bottle, you were used to the outbursts and you were equally as destructive as he was — much to the chagrin of your crew mates, who constantly reminded the two of you to figure something out quickly.
kid knows better than to encourage you to leave, even though the words touch the tip of his tongue, but he thinks better of it and says nothing. instead, he fills another glass and drinks again.
“do whatever you want,” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand, eyes closing as he lounges on a chair lazily. he doesn’t mean it, of course, but you decide to interpret that as him giving you permission. bile rises to the back of your throat, and you will yourself not to let a single tear fall. you sniff loudly and turn your face away before storming out of the kitchen.
you bump into killer on your way out, but before he can ask what’s wrong you run off. he doesn’t chase after you as he has a sinking feeling that you and kid had yet another fight that requires his mediation.
a thankless job if anyone were to ask him.
he finds kid with his eyes closed and a frown stitched onto his face. killer sits across from his captain and sighs loudly.
“start from the beginning,” he says smoothly, watching kid carefully to see if he’s actually going to give him the whole story this time.
kid doesn’t move for a long moment, but he knows he can’t avoid killer so he relents. he tries not to think about the shape of your mouth, or the curve of your hips; he tries and tries and tries, but he can’t get your face out of his head.
“it’s not a big deal,” kid says gruffly, voice low, irritation spiking all over again when he slams the glass on the wooden table — the force of it rattling the furniture nearby.
killer crosses his arms against his chest and fixes kid with a steely glare, one that penetrates through his mask. still, kid insists on pleading his case.
“you know she argues with me on purpose, why are you always on her side?” he will never understand; if anything, his crew should side with him always. loyalty above all else, after all. there’s no legitimate reason for why you and kid are always at each other’s throats — it’s probably because you’re more alike than you think and your stubbornness always clashes with his; he’s also controlling and bossy, pigheaded and a pain in your ass.
and yet, there you are, sighing in defeat as you press your face into your pillow and try not to scream.
the funny thing is, as much as you both like to deny it, everyone can see that this is pent up sexual frustration that will implode sooner rather than later. kid would rather gut himself than admit that he likes you, would rather swallow nails for ninety days before confessing to you first. similarly, you hate the idea of him having this sort of power over you — that’s what you tell yourself anyway; if he knew how much you liked him, then you’d never hear the end of it.
his ego knows no bounds and you don’t know if you’d be able to tolerate him being that smug around you.
still, you’re sorely tempted to just tell him and get it off your chest; maybe if he sees where you were coming from, then he’ll ease up. you doubt it, though. while you’re not oblivious to the heated looks that kid gives you, if you give into that desire, there’s no coming back from it unscathed.
your poor battered heart can only take so much, you need to protect it from men like him — men who come in like storms, wrecking your life without remorse.
killer’s lecture only pisses kid off even more, but his best friend has never steered him wrong, so he takes his advice seriously. his issue with you is so painfully simple that if you knew you’d make fun of him forever — at least, that’s what he thinks anyway.
his attraction to you has only grown stronger over the years and you have an iron grip on him without even realizing. he fucks other people to get you out of his head and it only gets worse. you tried your best to flirt around in the hopes of finding someone to take your mind off him, but everyone you meet pales in comparison.
there’s never anything wrong with them — they’re just, so nice, so… tame. and you hate that kid has gotten you accustomed to a certain kind of chaos that you crave without meaning to. you know that you’re much too intense for just anyone to handle, so you don’t try that hard anymore. for some reason, this pleases kid more than it should. he actively sabotages anyone’s interest in you for the sole purpose of keeping you to himself, all without telling you, of course.
killer wants to tell you to wise up about kid, but knows that it’s not worth it; you won’t listen to reason anyway, will you?
you like to lie to yourself and say that you hate him, but you know you don’t. and kid doesn’t want to admit that part of the reason why he likes you so much is because you’re dismissive around him and are one of the few people who dares to talk back to him. he likes that part of you so much that he’s sure it’s an unhealthy obsession at this point — hence why he’s always acting out whenever you’re nearby.
you know you should just let it go, try to find a middle ground with him — and he keeps telling himself that if he fucks you once, maybe you’ll calm down and stop nagging him so much.
one can only hope, right?
after docking the ship on a small island, you take to exploring around the closest town. the others follow kid to a pub and drink heavily. because it’s packed inside, kid opts to finish his drink outside, where the breeze caresses his skin gently; he finds solace in the cool evening temperature and almost heads back in when he hears laughter.
a few feet away, you’re standing with an unknown man — a civilian from town, most likely — smiling like a mischievous cat, batting your eyelashes and touching his arm every so often. kid narrows his eyes, jaw clenched as he finishes his drink, his anger steadily rising at the sight.
you’re in the middle of accepting a date, when kid calls your name out. loudly.
you try to ignore him, but you know that he’ll only be tempted to do something outrageous so you apologize to the stranger and stomp over to your nosy ass captain.
“what do you want now? can’t you see i’m busy.” your face is flushed from embarrassment — and the stranger leaves once he sees the fierce look kid gives him from over your head — and anger, a deadly combination that makes you look every bit as cute as you are alluring.
he wishes you’d stop being attractive so he can get over you quickly; but yet there you are, fussing at him without a care in the world. your lack of fear only makes him want you more. he licks his lips and motions for you to follow him back to the ship.
“i’m not going anywhere,” you say, holding your ground and not moving an inch.
kid swivels on his heels and his audacity reaches new bounds when he says, “either you walk on your own or i carry you. either way, you’re getting back on the fucking ship.”
something about that stirs something forbidden inside of you, a wicked heat that makes you squirm a bit under his gaze. if you don’t comply that’ll complicate things, but if you do that’ll only mean you’re giving in to his demands and you don’t want that.
right?
lips parted, an argument rolls onto your tongue, but he grabs your face roughly with his hand and stops you from saying another word. “i’m serious.” and you know he is. you swallow hard and nod, following after him quietly, heart beating much too fast. you tell yourself you’ll make it out of this in one piece, but you make the mistake of following kid back to his room, all of your self-preservation thrown out of the window when you close the door behind you and sigh.
kid’s anger nearly blinds him; he didn’t think he’d ever be that jealous, but he saw the way your soft features were illuminated in the moonlight, and it became painfully obvious that he wanted you to look at him like that too. but, again, stubbornness and cowardice work in tandem, making it easy for him to avoid that sort of vulnerability for the time being.
“you can’t keep bossing me around, you don’t get to tell me what to do,” your words come out sharp, but your voice lowers when he steps closer to you and backs you against the door. “you also can’t get jealous because you and i aren’t dating.” this is the first time you’ve actually said that out loud to him; he considers your words, but only chuckles darkly in response.
“and that’s where you’re wrong.”
you stare at him, wide-eyed; what an impossible man. whatever residual irritation you have steadily dissipates, as you try to tell yourself that fucking eustass kid will only bring you more headaches. but then he pushes his leg in between yours, and then you’re leaning into him, back arching, chest heaving the moment he kisses you.
there’s nothing delicate about the way kid handles you; with brutish strength, he rips through most of your clothes, laughing when you shriek and chastise him over it. he kisses you repeatedly, tongue swiping against yours playfully as he grabs your ass. heat courses through your body viciously, making you pull away so you can unbuckle and unzip his pants, stroking his stiff cock without prompting, admiring the length and thickness.
this man will be the death of you, that much is certain. but you’re going to enjoy the ride the entire time regardless.
you sink to your knees, the wooden floor cool against your skin. you run your tongue along the length of his cock, soft hands massaging his balls with skill and ease. kid fights to not moan your name, instead opting to tug on your hair roughly. “stop teasing me,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, lust fueling his thoughts and actions.
he’s trying to be considerate, but at the pace you’ve set, he has half a mind to just take over; but he lets you have the reigns briefly, watching you with half-lidded eyes, tongue gliding along his bottom lip as you suck on the thick head of his cock.
“fuck.”
you take that as confirmation to continue, looking up at him, desire burning through you as you open your mouth and slacken your jaw to take in more of him. whatever you can’t fit in your mouth, you compensate by using your hands. his hips jerk forward, and he braces his heavy, mechanical arm against the door, while his other hand grabs onto your hair and tugs you off him.
“make it sloppy,” he says roughly, and you squeeze your thighs together, plush lips parted as you exhale deeply. you know better than to disobey that command, so you give him what he wants, bobbing your head up and down his cock, hands twisting and pumping around the base. your saliva coats his length and he sucks in a harsh breath when you moan and suck on his tip, persistent and playful.
he ends up thrusting into your mouth, cock gliding further down your throat with his help. you let him fuck your face, his groans loud, vibrating along your skin, making your pussy slick with your arousal. his hips jerk forward, his breathing uneven as you hold onto his thighs for support. if he doesn’t fuck you soon, you might pass out honestly. he knows if he continues, he’ll only end up cumming in your mouth and he doesn’t want that just yet.
when he tosses you onto the bed, you get on all fours, tempting him with your ass — that he’s admired for far longer than necessary — you look over your shoulder at him, lips swollen from his kisses. he thinks you look pretty like that, a dazed look on your face, insatiable in your desire for him. he’s in the same exact boat as you, muscles tensing as he pulls the rest of his clothes off.
you shiver slightly, rub your lips together and let out a shrill whimper when he licks along your slit, your arousal dripping onto his tongue once it slides in between your folds. you don’t think you’ve ever had someone taste you like that — like you’re a coveted fruit, like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t devour you whole right now. kid eats your pussy with fervor, leaving open-mouthed kisses and slurping messily.
grabbing at the bed sheets, you make an attempt to shift away from him, but he holds you steady, tongue circling dangerously around your throbbing clit. you yelp, cry out loudly, and beg for more.
he hums absently, before he slides a thick finger inside of you, pumping it in and out, watching as you fuck yourself against his hand once he inserts another finger. he scissors them recklessly, and you shamelessly buck against him before he swaps his fingers for his tongue.
“yes, fuck, right there,” you chant, breathing erratic as you chase the high that kid is dangling right in front of you. he’s barely holding on himself, but he has a point to prove. he swipes at your clit again, flicking his tongue against it before sucking on it hard. a flash of white blinds you, and when you cum forcefully enough to make you slump over.
still, kid’s not done with you.
he admires all the marks he’s left along your thighs and ass, smiling to himself haughtily. you know he’s probably grinning like a fool right now and you don’t even care to argue with him about it. you rub your ass against his cock once before he thrusts his cock inside of you; he grants you a bit of mercy, pausing so you can adjust to his girth before snapping his hips forward and fucking you at a merciless pace.
with a hand on your back, kid bucks his hips roughly against yours; your thighs tremble and your voice grows hoarse from how loud you’re moaning for him. the walls in the rooms aren’t thick, so no doubt some of your crew mates have heard you already — not that you care about any of that right now anyway.
his balls slap against you with each stroke, his cock burrowing deeper inside your cunt without remorse. he grabs you by the back of your hair and pulls you flush against his chest, back arching as he powers into you with short, frenzied thrusts. your pussy is soft and warm around him, making him think irrational, impossible things — making him want to be different with you.
the pads of his fingers are rough when they rub against your clit, and he wraps an arm around you to keep you close as he fucks you faster. sweat pools at your temples, the room is hot but not uncomfortable. he pushes you down onto the bed, pulling out of you momentarily and panting lightly. when he enters you again this time, he plunges in deep enough to have you babbling incoherently as tears glide down your round cheeks.
he laughs at your whimpering. “big baby,” he says teasingly, the taunt dark with intent. “all that mouth but you can’t take my cock, what a damn shame.” you know he’s joking, but your face burns with shame anyway.
“shut up,” you manage to say with great difficulty, moaning shamelessly as he rolls his hips against yours. kid presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and you’re surprisingly okay with the intimacy — and he is too.
strange. very, very strange.
it’s when he angles his cock like that that you cum again, clenching around his girth, holding him hostage as his thrusts become sloppier and frenetic. there’s a feral possessiveness that he exudes when he rolls you onto your back and throws your legs over his shoulders. you barely have the strength, but you do your best to keep up, hips lifting to meet his menacing strokes, pussy squelching loudly.
his bed sheets are soaked, but he doesn’t care; all he cares about is this. you. he realizes that now — very belatedly, but still. he finds himself tipping over the edge when you lean up to kiss him sweetly, almost affectionately. he meant to pull out so he could cum on your stomach and thighs but doesn’t, he cums inside you instead.
it’s thick and hot, you whimper against his lips pathetically, nails clawing along his back, head spinning from the intense way he fucked you.
after a minute or so, he pulls out and clarity hits him. you look over at him as he stretches out on his large bed, lazy like a mountain lion, eyes closed briefly. you wonder if this is where you get kicked out and you dread the walk back to your room — especially since kid rudely ruined your clothes. he feels you shift on the bed, arms and legs shaky as you sit up. he frowns, not liking the idea of you leaving and grabs onto your arm, tugging you towards him gently.
although with a man as large as him, his idea of gentle is different than most. you find yourself laying on top of his chest, confused but also content, smiling secretly as you duck your head to avoid his gaze. he plays with your hair before yawning.
“i was going to—”
he pulls you closer and you clamp your lips together, afraid of saying anything else that might disrupt whatever peace has settled between you two.
kid hesitates only for a moment before saying, “stay.” it’s almost cute, the way he’s suddenly very demure, as if the idea of asking anyone to stay over has never occurred to him. but he knows that if he lets you leave, then things might go back to normal, and he doesn’t want that.
not that he knows what he wants exactly, but that’s beside the point. he’ll figure it out in due time, but for now, he’ll enjoy having your body next to his.
#finally finally done#fic request#milestone event#500+ followers event#🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#one piece smut#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#eustass kid smut#eustass kid x reader#eustass kid x y/n#kidd x reader#kidd x y/n#one piece angst#one piece fluff#eustass kid angst#eustass kid fluff#eustass kidd smut
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Miami unserious race overview
Hello and welcome back. We have another interesting race behind us. My thought on each team and driver under the cut as always.
1. Red Bull
I cant believe I'm saying this but Max lost on lack of pace. This is both good news and bad news to me. Good news because the Red Bull is within reach to the rest of the grid and we might get a possible lestappen fight in the future and bad news because my Maxie lost 😭. But it's OK he's gonna win the next one (if Charles let's him he he)
And it looks like red bull got the setup wrong for this race (they applied for a change that was not approved under Parc Ferme) so I'm not too scared. And by the looks of it neither was Max.
At one point Perez had such a bad pace I was like WHAT is wrong with the Red Bull??? It's insane. I'm starting to like Checo again so I don't want him to flop too hard. But alas.. it's Checo. But please please for the love of good be good enough to keep Daniel in the midfield. 🙏
2. Ferrari
Charles was amazing once again all weekend. That's my perfect driver. He did everything right except for that spin but he controlled amazing there too. I just love him so much ok? OK. And he didn't seem too dissapointed with his pace compared to McLaren either maybe because they could keep up with them on similar tyre life's without upgrades. So those coking upgrades must be good if he is this nonchalant to losing to Lando. Like I said, both Charles and Max seemed pretty unaffected but maybe that was just them in the moment being happy for their friend. No way to tell.
Anti Carlos rant and thoughts on the rest of the grid below the cut
Carlos was horrible. Honestly just all in all a really bad performance from him. Please let us start acknowledging this. First he could not pass Daniel in the sprint, then in the race the first thing he does again is attack Charles instead of defend against Perez. Which lead to Perez barging in and almost taking both of them out. He was extremely lucky that didnt happen. Then he kept whining on the radio about how he is faster (he was 0.029 faster for god's sake). And one point when he lost the DRS he wanted a switch which was exactly when he saw he was losing pace and he needed something to happen for him to be in front. Then I don't even want to talk about the fight with Piastri. That was just embarrassing, both from a on track battle perspective and a horrible whiny human being perspective. No skill no personality nothing. I honestly don't remember him being in a battle with someone and not making contact in recent races. And then this same person goes and blames everyone but himself. And not only that, he's saying he had the win???? Honey, Lando would have passed you in half a lap if you hadn't pitted, what are you on about? What win? I wish to be this delusional one day.
Carlos rant over moving on to the man of the hour:
3. McLaren
Lando finally got the win! Yay. Kinda a lot of mixed feelings about this one. I don't want Lando to do good but I am happy that a man who has worked his entire life and has faced disappointment after disappointment is getting to have this moment. And I believe in good karma and positive attitude so I will not be a bitter hater on this one. Congrats Lando and Lando fans. And I am counting this as a win, the safety car helped him but he is not the first nor last to be helped this way, however he drove beautifully after that and deserved the place. Max and Charles fell behind on pace significantly and very fast (albeit Charles was on significantly older tyres).
I am so sorry for Oscar. He used the situation at the start then was really fast and kept both ferraris at bay for too long. All that without the full upgrade package. Really really good performance. He was my driver of the day. Not to mention he had the hardest job yesterday - having to deal with Carlos. Imagine if ferrari didn't decide to pit him first.. I cant even think about it honestly I might go crazy. Can't wait to see what he can do with all the upgrades in Imola.
4. Mercedes
They were fighting Haas all weekend. Toto should stop yapping about Max and resign once and for all.
5. RB
I think RB only have one working car but are not telling anyone. One race Daniel suddenly remembers how to drive the next one its Yuki. They switch the one working car they have each race and no k e can convince me otherwise. (Real talk tho Daniel being p20 3 hours after he got p4 in the sprint is extremely hilarious)
6. Aston Martin
They were racing? The only time I saw Strolls name was when he drove into Lando in the sprint (not his fault this time). I honestly have nothing else to say..
7. Haas
MY NEW FAVORITE TEAM!!!! They are so funny but they are gaining points from it. They provide entertainment on and off track AND they are climbing up the standings. How fucking amazing. Kevin Magnussen you beast. You my man represent what f1 should be about - unhinged chaos. He came he collected 1 minute worth of penalties he finished last. But did we have fun? We sure did. Did Lando win? He fucking won. Did Logan DNF? Unfortunately there has to be a victim here. And he has 2 penalty points left to spare before Ollie makes a comeback and with this track record I think we are about to see Ollie in Monaco. Kevin the fairy godmother of f1. Giving everyone what they want in the most entertaining way possible. Did I mentioned how much I love him? Yeah I do!
8. Alpine
Alpine got a point!!!! Another sentence I didn't think I'd be writing this soon. Good for them. I don't know if it is still only Esteban with the upgrades but it seems like it. Either way this is promising and I'm happy for them. They did that for Travis btw. If you even care.
9. Williams
I feel so sorry for Logan. I feel like I say that way too often but it's the truth this season. Poor guy. The latest victim of the Magnussen tornado. Who Will it get next week? My guess is Perez.
10. Sauber
Idk if anyone noticed but Zhou made it an insane amount if laps on a soft tyre. The last time j checked was 5 6 laps to the end and he was on lap 23 on softs. That's impressive. He probably didn't want to risk losing 50 seconds In the pits again poor guy. Other than that they need to do better. Good job to Zhou tho.
This was my lo gest overview to date I think but im happy with this race and how everything went.
#here you go hope you enjoy#i rant a lot#theres a lot#of#anti carlos sainz#as there always is#f1#f1 miami#miami race overview#also this has a lot of gramatical erros excuse them please
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Bathtub
Charles x fem!reader
From this request
Summary: When Charles is in the bathroom, you come in and you have a first
WARNINGS: Bad English (a little google translate, not edited writing),first time?, smut , fluff
You thought that tonight would be no different from the others, of course neither Charles or you had much of an idea of what would happen in hours.
After Charles got back from sports, you said you would prepare dinner and let him go to the bathroom, when you prepared the meal, you went to your room to inform Charles, but he was not inside, the sound of water was coming from the bathroom you knocked on the door a few times, there was no answer, you opened the door and there was a Charles lying in the tub looking at you, you weren't expecting "Ah sorry I-I'll go out" you closed the door and hit your forehead with your hand, the water sound stopped.
"Would you say something YN?" You cleared your throat and spoke "I was going to s-say, dinner is ready" there was no answer for a while "Okay can you come here for a bit, please ?" you walked into the bathroom shyly and staring at the floor your cheeks were blushed.
"Can you look at me baby"you looked at Charles slowly, he was holding out his hand to you "Come in to tub maybe it can help us both relax a little bit" you slowly undress and sit in the tub opposite Charles you still couldn't look at his face he approached you with support from the bathtub.
"What are you ashamed of baby look at my face"You looked into his eyes "You look so beautiful,you can't imagine what I want to do with you" you slide into water a little like you want to hide "Don't say such things, you know I didn't have any experience before" He came close and left a kiss at your temple "Do you trust me ?" you nod "I will help you, do you want this ?" you nod again.
He grabbed your waist and pulled you up to his legs, started kissing everything he could reach, started from your neck.You closed your eyes and tried to feel everything he gave you, he landed on your chest he licked one and bit it this made you moan he left your chest and smiled, he did the same with the other one. You folded your arms around his neck, he slowly took one hand into your pussy "fuck you're soaking my love", you moaned and threw your head back "that's because we're in the water, Charles."
He chuckled at your words and came close to your ear "believe me my angel this is not about us being in the water" he put a kiss on your cheek and started fingering you, you were moaning and digging your nails into Charles's shoulder,
At your gesture he groaned "God you're destroying me YN, I can't take it any longer" he made you lift yourself up and slowly helped you sit his cock you buried your head into Charles' shoulder because of little pain. Charles put one hand on your back and rubbed,he started kissing your head "I promise it'll be gone in a minute I'm sorry" you nodded with your head, a few minutes later when Charles was sure you were ok he started to move slowly in you.
You started to breathe deeply and moaned you didn't even try to hide that you enjoyed it Charles pushed himself towards you for a while "Baby this position is very difficult for me so you need to ride me ok I'll show you how to do" he grabbed your hips and lifted you up a little bit and made you sit up again you moaned "You'll be in control"
You moved slowly as he showed for a while then you started to speed up with a feeling that came from inside, it felt so good you both were just moaning.You squeezed Charles's shoulder when you felt like something was about to burst inside you and he understood, put his hands on your waist."Will you cum for me baby, fuck how you're squeezing me i think i am close too wait a little and we can cum together" you did what he said and tried to hold on.
When Charles finally pushed himself towards you, you felt a warmth inside and you cum at the same time,he sighed, "I'm sorry, I got carried away,I should have gotten out " you left a kiss on his lips "no problem we'll buy plan b, also thank you" he hugged you tight as a response and that was the best answer you could ask for.
#f1 imagine#violetszone#f1 blurb#f1 smut#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#cl16#f1 fluff#f1 2022#f1 x you
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @salemwitch96
Warnings: talk of murder, smoking, bloody knife
Chucky lounged on the couch, all too pleased with himself. I paced in front of him, trying to keep my hands away from my hair. Every time I was about to, I saw the blood on my hands and shuddered.
“chucky what are we going to do?” I whined, turning towards him. He raised an eyebrow at me as he blew smoke away from me. “Come on chucky! We killed Tiffany!” Chuckling, chucky leaned forward and waved his finger between us.
“we don’t kill anyone.” He emphasized. “You killed Tiffany.” Leaning forward, I pointed at his face.
“the blood on your face says different Charles.” I groaned. Flopping down on the couch, chucky reached over and put his hand on my thigh. “What do we do?” He rubbed circles with his thumb.
“first things first we clean up.” He helped me up and led me towards the bathroom. “Here.” Chucky gently rinsed my hands before grabbing the soap. I watched him in the mirror as he scrubbed them, making sure to get all the blood off. “What are you staring at?” He teased, looking up briefly to catch me staring at him.
“You’ve never been this…” I trailed off, nervous about what he’d say if I actually finished the thought. Chucky laughed and squeezed my soapy hands.
“sweet?” He finished. “Is that the word you were just going to use?” I blushed and nodded. He hummed as he finished washing up my hands. Grabbing the towel under the sink, he dried them off. “You’re in shock. And we don’t have as much time as I would like.” Chucky said softly. “Besides, it’s your first kill. It can be a lot. I’m both proud of you and I’m a little pissed about it.” I tensed slightly. “Not at you. She shouldn’t have gotten in the way. That’s on her. Tiffany was always a dumbass bitch. It was a matter of time. Either I was going to do it or some other poor asshole who she found herself entangled with.” Chucky turned away to run the towel under water before cleaning the blood off his face.
“so what do we do now?” I asked, starting to shake. I wrapped my arms around my waist and tried to hold myself together. Chucky noticed and came over to hug me.
“we get rid of the knife.” He whispered. “But after you calm down a bit.” Kissing my cheek, chucky swayed with me.
“you’re being too nice. It’s unnerving.” I mused, leaning into him a little. Chucky snorted and held me tighter.
“more unnerving than what you just did?” He teased. I shook my head. “Then just accept it. It happens occasionally.” I laughed and turned in his embrace to hug him back. “Feeling better?”
“Slightly.” I answered. Chucky kissed my forehead.
“I’ll take care of the knife. Get ready for bed. I’ll be back soon.” He gently pushed me towards our room.
“where are you going?” I asked as I pulled one of his shirts out of the dresser.
“the lake. No one would find it there.” Kissing me gently, he grabbed the knife off the counter. “I’ll clean that up later. Just get some rest. Won’t take me long.” I nodded and curled up under the covers.
“ok. Chucky?” I called softly. He turned towards me.
“yeah?” I blushed slightly at the look he was giving me.
“love you.” I whispered. He smiled softly and nodded.
“yeah.” Shaking his head, he turned to leave. “Love you too doll face.”
#charles lee ray#charles lee ray x reader#charles lee ray fanfiction#charles lee ray imagine#charles lee ray fanfic#Chucky#chucky fanfic#Chucky fanfiction#chucky imagine#chucky x reader#brad dourif imagine#brad dourif fanart#brad dourif fanfic#brad dourif fanfiction#brad dourif x reader#brad dourif
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hey u know how mk only calls wukong by his title and never his name? and how wukong rarely if ever calls mk "mk," instead usually opting for "kid" or "bud?" and how both of those things are kind of representative of their relationship and how both of them care about each other a lot but they aren't honest with each other or with themselves about the other and how neither of them really wants to confront the fact that the other is a person with flaws and struggles? haha yeah <- normal <- lying about being normal
be glad i have been released from class now :) [narrator: she would later find herself late to her 2nd class while writing this]
so happy you have given me this excuse to talk about— i mean, yes! it is super normal to be thinking about this all the time and be comsumed by it and let me explain why:
i will start by going off on a tangent about names and labels and their narratove importance in stories because i love them and have a problem. (idk the word count here. viewer discretion is advized. i just wrote. it is long. beware)
In the Case of Names: a Sunburst Duo Essay
by Yours Truly <3
In the Case of Names in LMK: a Summary (please for the love of pete be a summary)
Ok, so, let me give y'all a quick overview (i failed. this is you're only warning. i failed, and this became a monster of an essay. run while you still have the chan—) of names in the literary sense. When studying novels and books and shit in your literature classes, you will notice that your professor might discuss the importance or ill-importance of characters' names in the story. For example: in the classic novel Fahrenheit 451, the protagonist's name is fucking Guy Montage to illustrate how he's just some fucking guy, a John Doe, a man stuck and complicit in the dystopian world.
You get me? No? Sorry, you want more examples? Fine then :3 let me introduce you to a story called Hard Times by Charles Dickens. It is an allegorical novel that criticized the utilitarian movement going on in dear old Great Britain in the 19th century thanks to the Industrial Revolution. Some fun characters were Johannes Bounderby and Thomas Gradgrind. Tell me, what images did you imagine when I gave you those names? Did you think of a bouncing ball for Bounderby? Were you imagining something square or maybe a mechanical grinder for Mr. Gradgrind?
Remarkable isn't it. The way choosing a name has on a reader/audience's perception of the character. Names are not just placeholders for a character. Names are the identity of that character. Names can establish their starting arc or their ending. Names can be visual in the sense that they invoke a strong idea of what a character might resemble or what themes they will present the audience with. Removing a character's name also removes their identity.
Remember that.
Anyway, I have talked enough about names in the general literary sense. Let us move on to LMK.
Given that this show is based off of Journey to the West (JTTW), many of the names of the antagonist are already provided, and their English translation is pretty literal (Demon Bull King, Lady Bone Demon, Red Son) with some exceptions (Jing & Yin, the Gold and Silver Demons), but their names all provide a description of what they are and how they should be viewed. Spider Queen is a spider demon and views herself as queen. Pretty solid characterization there. Lady Bone Demon, she's a bone demon and has enough rank to be considered a lady (or that could just be to ID that she is a woman but eh). Princess Iron Fan: she's a celestial princess and wields an iron fan. Got it? Good. These examples are simply here to show that a majority of the JTTW antagonists are still fulfilling their roles as antagonistic characters. What I mean is this: since "A Hero is Born," MK has been fighting against the Monkey King's old enemies from the JTTW book. It's like the moment MK inserted himself into the role of successor, the antagonist themselves were inserted to redo their old role of fighting the "Monkey King." It's almost as if nothing has changed beside the fact that their new op enemy is a "human" wielding the legendary staff.
[hmmmm, wait i actually never put this into words until now and it's fitting very well with the whole "MK's fight against Fate/the Narrative" but we'll just put a pin in that.]
However, when it comes to MK's friends (Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Mei), they all share different names from their reincarnated/ancestral counterparts (Zhu Bajie, Tang Sangzang (they just give Tripitaka a last name lol), Sha Wujing, and Ao Lie). Their identity is separate, distinctive from who they are meant to reflect to the audience. (But look at how Tang still shares the same 1st name to the blessed monk, see how he's the one whose powers are the most similar, see how he being pulled into the direction of emulating the monk, see how much Tang fights it, see—)
Fascinating huh? But let us move on before I forget myself.
In the Case of MK's Names: a Paragraph (DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT GO OFF THE RAILS)
So, in the English version, there is a running gag about how MK's "real" name is long and complicated, and we don't actually know it. All we know is that MK switched it long before the pilot. And even before MK has that talk with Master Subodhi in s4ep7 (or 6? 8?), I would chuckle at how on the nose his name was. MK the Monkie Kid... how silly of the show writers....ahaha, what a funny little decision to make :)
Do we know why MK changed his name? Other than his original one being long, no. Do we know why MK specifically? We don't know. Maybe, in his fanboy brain for all things Monkey King, MK thought it would be cool to have a name that identified close to his idol. A name that identified with someone he wished to emulate and be as powerful as and felt so connected to. But what do I know? I am a mere local gal who feeds off of metas and theories and all things relating to my beloved sunburst duo.
Then, we have MK's many titles: Monkie Kid (IDs him as the new generations Monkey), Successor (IDs him as the one who will succeed Sun Wukong in both the title of Monkey King and power), Noodle Boy (pronounced "New-dle Boi and IDs as the boy who works in his surrogate/adopted dad's noodle shop), Delivery Boy (his actual job for the noodle shop), and last but not least, Harbinger of Chaos.
What makes a harbinger? What is chaos? What are their intentions? Are they good? Bad? Neutral?
So, I've already defined harbinger before and many others have as well, but to sum up: a harbinger is a being/person/thing that announced the coming of something be it good or bad but most of the time the focus is bad. A "Harbinger of Chaos" then, would be the one to announce the coming of Chaos™️ and the disruption of world order. Is this a bad thing? Well, the show presents it at the moment as so, but that doesn't mean it will be. Honestly, the show has shown order and fixed structures more in a bad light and promotes free will and choosing a destiny that fits you as the good thing 👀 (another thing to pin in the MK might to go war with Fate)
But now I have established MK's names and must shut up and move on before I no longer can.
In the Case of Sun Wukong's Names: some Paragraphs (STAY ON TARGET PLEASE)
I will admit that my knowledge of names in China is very low, and by low, I mean I know nothing (most of what I do know comes from asking friends and informational sites). So, let me begin this segment with an excerpt of Sun Wukong gaining his name from the book itself :) and break it down with my interpretation and how that is applied to LMK.
When the Patriarch heard this, he was secretly pleased, and said, “Well, evidently you have been created by Heaven and Earth. Get up and show me how you walk.” Snapping erect, the Monkey King scurried around a couple of times. The Patriarch laughed and said, “Though your features are not the most attractive, you do resemble a pignolia-eating monkey (husun). This gives me the idea of taking a surname for you from your appearance. I intended to call you by the name Hu. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what’s left is a compound made up of the two characters, gu and yue. Gu means aged and yue means female, but an aged female cannot reproduce. Therefore, it is better to give you the surname of Sun. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what we have left is the compound of zi and xi. Zi means a boy and xi means a baby, and that name exactly accords with the fundamental Doctrine of the Baby Boy. So your surname will be ‘Sun.’”
When the Monkey King heard this, he was filled with delight. “Splendid! Splendid!” he cried, kowtowing, “At last I know my surname. May the master be even more gracious! Since I have received the surname, let me be given also a personal name..."
..."You will hence be given the religious name ‘Wake-to-the-Void’ (wukong). All right?”
“Splendid! Splendid!” said the Monkey King, laughing. “Henceforth I shall be called Sun Wukong.”
What a fucking cutie <3
So, what can we gather from this excerpt? Sun Wukong just gained his official name. No longer is he a monkey with descriptive titles, no longer is he a monkey without a surname to be referred to as and respected for. He now has both a surname and a personal name. And while I don't fully understand everything Master Subodi listed when naming Sun Wukong, it is important to note the importance of it and how happy Wukong is to receiving it.
Before this, the book would simply refer to Wukong as Shihou (stone monkey) or the Handsome Monkey King. Both of these are descriptive titles that just inform you what Wukong is rather than who, just like with the other demons met in JTTW. But now, we get to know him as Sun Wukong, someone more than his titles and such. There's even an explanation in the preface how Wukong's own personal name has significant meaning or relation to Buddhism, but I won't get too much into that since my knowledge is of that is 0 and I want to try and stick to LMK.
Now then, let us examine Wukong's name in the LMK sense. Literally everyone in the show call him either Monkey King or "simian" (and if he really pissed them off, Sun Wukong). The only people to refer to Wukong by his personal name is Nezha, Macaque, and Peng. It is literally just these three. And while we could argue all say it like "Wukong (derogatory)," I believe Peng's the only one who means it. Meaning, I think Macaque says Wukong because he was the closest friend of SWK, thus that's the only name Macaque would ever call him (sure, he said Monkey King and shit in s1 but that was when he was duping MK soooooooo). Nezha calls him Wukong because after the whole Havoc in Heaven and journey stuff, he is the new oldest member to befriend Wukong and not be enemies with him (yes, he will get annoyed and aggravated by him, and he will not always believe Wukong's intentions are great, but he still cares and is his 2nd closests living friend).
Peng, on the other hand, does not give a shit. I fully believe that guy never cared for Wukong. They only joined the brotherhood because of Azure (they even offered for Azure to be the brotherhood's leader). I do not think Peng cares for formalities when it comes to people they dislike. We could argue that maybe Peng cared for Wukong in the beginning, but I do, honestly, not believe it. The only reason Peng even felt betrayed was because it messed up Azure's plan. Not because the two were sworn brothers.
But yeah, very few characters actually call Sun Wukong by his name, and when they do, it establishes not just how close they are/were, but also how long they've known each other. It's the same thing with how Wukong refers to others. He barely calls Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy by their names. He will give people nicknames and shit just to place a safe distance from them because of his own very unhealthy attachment issues.
In the Case of MK and SWK's Names for Each Other: the Actual Sunburst Duo Essay (you are free now.....)
Speaking of attachment issues, let's talk about the Sunburst Duo and how much these two need to sit down and talk.
So, we have discussed how names are integral to identifying a character's purpose, thematic journey, description. We have discussed how a person's title can clue in on certain characterization, present or future, and how they demonstrate the way others view them. Now let us apply this to our beloved sunburst duo.
As mentioned in your ask, @gumy-shark, both MK and Sun Wukong barely call each other by name (MK never has as far as I am aware, and SWK has done so only a few). It's "Monkey King" from MK and "kid," "bud," "buddy" from SWK. Rarely do the two ever think to say each other's name.
In the beginning, I originally thought MK only calls Wukong "Monkey King" as a way to be respectful, and with Wukong, I assumed he called MK "kid" simply because MK was very young to him. However, as we get into s3, and especially s4, MK and Wukong have grown a lot closer. Neither of them see each other as just a mentor or student but as friends. And yet, they cannot seem to stop calling each other by their title or nickname.
Thus, the distance is still there. S3 ends with Wukong promising to do better as a mentor and be more honest with MK, and we do seem him attempt this. He gives out more praises, he's more open about his feelings and then gets sucked into the memory scroll. But here's the kicker: the two are doing a reverse in their dynamic.
When it starts out, it is Monkey King who establishes the line between the two. He will simply be MK's mentor and teach him all the kid has to know in order to succeed him. MK is ecstatic to even be near SWK. This is his idol, the guy he's had a special interest in for years probably. He now gets to train under the Monkey King. He wants to do good. He wants to kickass. He wants to be just like him.
But as the story goes on, we see SWK open up to MK more and care for him deeply and want to protect him, and we see MK uncover the skeletons in SWK's closet and feel so alone and learn that the power he used to wish for is not what he expected. And in the aftermath of s3, it is now SWK who is opening up and trying to help kindle and safely guide their friendship in a healthier path(ish). It is SWK who is placing his own protege on a pedestal because "loook at him! isn't he so great and powerful! he will help this world a lot more than i did". It is SWK who is disregarding th original rules he placed. But now ,it is MK who is keeping the distance more than SWK. It is MK is trying to force some kind of distance. He feels like he shouldn't burden SWK with his doubts and worries. He is terrified of his own powers and their capabilities and worries his actions will make the same mistake as his mentor.
With s3 and s4, SWK has called MK by name quite a few times. Especially in s4. It's not a lot, but it's definitely more than before. And yet, MK cannot call Wukong by name. Personally, I think he might still feel like he's under Wukong's shadow. As his successor, there is a legacy that he will carry when Wukong actually retires and gives his title to MK (which is what I assume Wukong will do??? It is still unclear what exactly MK's succeeding SWK of). And that legacy is quite the burden. I would not be surprised that MK is unable to place himself as being worthy of taking Wukong's place just yet (if ever).
This guy was his idol for a long time. And with that, you tend to place a high pedestal for those people. MK has given Wukong such a high pedestal, and Wukong is very aware of it. It's why the guy even keeps his distance in the first place, and why he's scared to disappoint him. But, MK has learned so much, has been told of the tales and pain his mentor inflicted on others in the past (a past SWK greatly regrets), and yet cannot find it in himself to lower that pedestal or even allow himself to think about it. Because if he does, then he will have to acknowledge his own pain and his own disappointment in someone he not only admires but has come to love like family. And it is very hard to reckon with the hurt and pain caused by someone you consider family.
So yeah, they are silly monkeys who cannot communicate to save their life and need to just sit down and talk or else this will continue to boil and explode and we'll have a SWK and MK showdown (fuck yeah! i will be crying so hard).
[end of essay]
#was late to my next class because of this#got lost in the sauce that my friend had to text me for me to remember i have CLASS#sigh#hope you enjoyed my scholarly account on names and how they pertain to the sunburst duo#also barely anyone even refers to Tripitaka by name#it's always 'the monk this' or 'the monk that' he only gets called by name if someone is being very formal about it#LITERALLY TRIPITAKA ISN'T EVEN CALLED TRIPITAKA AND IDK WHY#WHY ARE YOU HOLDING OUT LMK EXPLAIN#EXPLAIN YOURSELF#WHY IS TANG'S ANCESTOR BARELY REFERRED TO BY NAME#anyway#there you go#hope you're happy#i used all my brain energy for this#this took me 2 hours to write in total#and that was simply because i chose not to include screencaps from the show itself out of self restraint#lmk#lmk analysis#lmk sunburst duo#lmk sun wukong#lmk mk#lmk qi xiaotian#qi xiaotian#sunburst duo#asks#read more#long post
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