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#robert pattinson x reader
sivyera · 6 months
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DATING MALE CELEBRITIES WOULD INCLUDE...
ft. tyler hoechlin, jacob elordi, tom cruise, jeremy sumpter, robert pattinson, cillian murphy, henry cavill, tom hardy, sam worthington, tom felton, rupert grint
a/n: i was focused on actors that doesn't get much attention but if you have any other celebrity in mind, please let me know in the comments! also i don't know if this is good because i included their favourite things, hobbies etc (with you ofc) just to make it more detailed and not boring... so i hope you guys like it:) if you want more detailed fic or just about one celebrity, let me know!
༻♛༺
⤷ Tyler Hoechlin
-Tyler writes you love letters. Pretty often. When he cannot be with you or is busy with his job, he'll sit down at night when he's alone and write you a letter about how much he misses you, how he's doing and about his job.
-Tyler loves sports, mostly baseball. So he'll take you with him to play baseball; he doesn't care if you don't know how, he will be happy when you just throw a ball to him. He'll take you to hockey matching or ice skating, if you don't know how to ice skate, don't worry he'll gladly teach you.
-He can talk a bit Spanish so he'll sometimes call you by Spanish pet names like cariño, mi amor or querida. And he'll be all cheesy about it which makes you laugh but it's also really sweet when he does that.
-Tyler loves his family so he was a bit nervous when he first introduced you to them, because their opinion mattered to him but he also loved you. But his nervousness disappear right after you and his family clicked. His family loves you which makes Tyler so happy.
-He plays guitar so he often plays to you. He loves how your eyes light up when he plays, he just loves making you happy and if he's making you happy by playing on his guitar, he'll gladly play all day.
-Tyler also loves traveling so when he has a week off, he takes you somewhere to the forest camping or to the ocean to relax, depends where you wanna go.
⤷ Jacob Elordi
-Jacob would post you on his instagram like ALL THE TIME. On his stories or just regular post because he loves to show you of. He will also post the most random photos of you that you didn't even know he took. But he loves every single one of them.
-Because of his role on 'the kissing booth' he learned how to drive a motorcycle so sometimes he takes you for a ride, it makes the both of you feel so free and you are with each other.
-No surprise that Jacob loves sports. His most favourite are basketball and surfing. Which means he takes you to play basketball with him or watch him how he plays with his friends, cheering for him ofc. When it comes to surfing he'll gladly teach you but again he prefers when you cheer for him or just watch him after that you two will have a playful fight in water.
-Jacob is a huge cuddle bug and he just loves when you lay on his chest so he can wrap his big arms around your tiny figure. When he cannot cuddle with you he will have one of his arms on your shoulder or around your waist.
-Jacob is actually a fan of poetry so you often find him reading it, but he will be over the moon if you read him his favourite poetries. You two will also have deep conversations about the true meanings of the poetries.
-He's a huge dog lover so it will be no surprise of you two get a dog, maybe two.
-He will get your name tattooed on his chest close to his heart. And you two will get matching tattooes.
⤷ Tom Cruise
-Tom loves skydiving which makes you a bit worried all the time since it's a extreme sport but if you are also a fan of extreme sports than he'll take you with him.
-Tom likes junk food like chips, fries, coca-cola etc. so you two have almost everything that comes to your mind at home. When you two watch a movie and cuddle on the sofa, he always has some chips or popcorn.
-He loves when you read to him and he really appreciate it because he loves hearing your voice and he has dyslexia which makes it hard for him to read. He usually lays on your chest while you read to him and play with his hair.
-He's a pilot and he own several aircraft so when you need to relax and he needs to take a break from his job, you just get into one of them and fly wherever you two wants.
-Tom loves under water scenes, which makes him love water. Like I said when you two needs to take a break from work and the fame, you fly in is aircraft somewhere and the 'somewhere' it's mostly somewhere where is hot weather or beach or ocean/sea.
-Tom is famous for doing all of his stunts because he's a adrenaline junky but it makes you sometimes worried because it can be dangerous. He always make sure that after a stunt he goes to you, tells you he's okay and kiss you.
⤷ Jeremy Sumpter
-Jeremy loves traveling and his favourite color is green, which leads you two take a trip to the forest, pretty often. Just walking around, listening to the singing birds, holding each others hands and having silly or deep conversation, depends on the day and mood.
-Jeremy is a dog lover. He has a dog named Bear and he takes him on the trips to the forest you two go. Bear absolutely loves you which makes Jeremy happy.
-He loves your cooking but he himself is a bad cook so he either helps you, but you have to give him detailed informations or he just hugs you from behind and watch you cook. If you make his favourite food he will be the happiest man alive, his favourite food are spaghetti.
-Jeremy also loves sport and to his favourite ones belongs baseball and soccer. He used to play them when he was a kid so his mom shows you some of his photos where he is in a dress or something. He also takes you on matches and explains you all the rules.
-He also loves water and swimming, so when you two goes on some vacation is usually somewhere to the ocean.
-Jeremy loves the movie called 'The Deer Hunter' so you two watch it like all the time while cuddling on the sofa or bed. His face in your neck, his arms around your waist and your hand playing with his blond curls.
⤷ Robert Pattinson
-Robert is a music lover, he wrote few songs and he can also sing pretty well so it was no surprise when he wrote a song about you, then sing it to you while playing on the piano.
-He's fluent in French so when he's feeling extra romantic or just in a playful mood, he will talk to you in French or call you by some French pet names like Mon amour or Mon chéri, otherwise he calls you darling, my love or baby.
-Robert loves cooking and when is it with you, he's even more happy to do it. Sometimes when you are exhausted from job, he'll prepare you a nice dinner and visa verse.
-You two watch war, drama or horror movies together. For example 'The Exorcist' or 'Come and See' are the type of movies you two watch together, because he's a fan of paranormal same as you, which leads to deep conversations. Rob is hugging you from behind while still laying down on your shared bed. Him kissing the back of your head once in a while.
-Robert is a dog lover, he always helps the homeless dogs but he can never keep them. You two will soon get a dog and it will be one of the best decisions Rob could ever make (the first, best one was to start dating you).
-Rob is literature fan which means picnic dates. You two somewhere private, laying on a picnic blanket with some homemade food, reading books and then having deep conversations about them.
⤷ Cillian Murphy
-Cillian also loves music so it will be no surprise if he will made a song about you and he'll gladly sing it to you. He didn't write you just a one song, you have a full album of his songs that he gave you.
-At nights were you have a trouble to fall asleep, he will read to you. He will read you another chapter of your favourite book or poems he wrote (they are often about you). After he's done reading, he'll hug you tight with your head placed on his chest, rubbing small circles on your back with kiss on your forehead.
-Cillian is also a big fan of literature and he loves when you give him recommendations. He doesn't care what genre the book is (detective, romance, horror,...) if you recommended it to him, he will read it.
-You two end up getting a dog or a cat, maybe both. Because Cillian is an animal lover, you will do most of the job around the dog/cat because Cillian is often really busy but he'll always make a time for you.. and the dog/cat.
-He's big fan of a Liverpool football club so you two will often be seen on their games with matching t-shirts and caps.
-His favourite part of the day will be night (or every day time he can spend with you) because he can read to you, have you in his arms, cuddled up to his chest while placing soft kisses on your forehead, cheek, lips, neck (any part he can reach)
⤷ Henry Cavill
-Henry, to your surprise, loves playing games on his PC. When he plays he'll have you sat on his lap with his arms idly wrapped around you while still having his hands on the controller/mouse. From time to time he'll kiss any part of your skin he can reach (cheek, neck,..).
-He rides a motorcycle and he loves when you wanna ride with him. Your arms wrapped around his waist while just riding around with no care in the world.
-Henry can speak a bit of Italian, French and Spanish and if you will help him to get better in those languages, he'll be so grateful. But this 'learning dates' you two have never goes as you planned, because he is always distracted by your beauty.
-He also loves cooking so if you had a bad day, Henry is already waiting at your house with dinner and fresh flowers.And for dessert, a warm bath with soft kisses all over your face.
-Henry can ride a horse so one of his ideas for date is a picnic at beautiful meadow but getting there on horses. If you can't ride a horse that's fine, you will sat behind him, if you can ride a horse maybe you two will even race who's gonna be there first.
-He loves cuddling you, because you feel so small in his big arms. He loves having his arms wrapped around you because it makes him feel like he's protecting you but when you stroke his hair he absolutely melts into you.
⤷ Tom Hardy
-Tom LOVES motorcycles. And he LOVES you, which means that you and him are often seen by paparazzi on his motorcycle either just for a simple ride or with packed things ready to sleep somewhere in the woods in tent or something similar.
-Tom loves challenges, so on these trips on his motorcycle, he makes sure there are some adrenaline, challenging stuff like jumping off of a cliff to clear cold water.
-Going into the gym together, watching him workout OR workout with him, but if you do work out with him he'll make sure to have easier workout with you because he's much stronger than you and he doesn't want you to hurt yourself.
-Tom loves reading comic books and he has one special comic book with Venom placed in the living room.
-He has a dog named Woody and when he's busy with acting, you will watch after him. Taking him out for walks, cuddling with him, playing with him and when he comes back and makes time for you and Woody, he'll make it up to the both of you.
-Tom has many tattoos all over his body so it's no surprise when one night when you two were making out you find out that he had you name tattooed on his lower belly near to his dick.
⤷ Sam Worthington
-Sam loves rock climbing for two main reasons, it's a excellent way how to relieve stress (besides spending time with you) and he can show off his back muscles, because he knows you love it.
-He's a lover of extreme sports so you can often be a bit worried that something can happen to him, but he always calms you down a bit with a kiss on your forehead. If you wanna try some of extreme sports with him, he'll be so happy.
-He's also a nature lover so trips are usually somewhere quiet and in nature, forest, meadow,... he loves going on trips with you because you two can be alone in peace and he can have you all to himself.
-He's an australian so it's no surprise he loves surfing. If you never tried it he will teach you but he won't be much focused on teaching, he's focused more on you and your beauty.
-Sam loves music AND he can play on the guitar and drums. He will take the guitar on the trips you two have, playing some songs you love on the guitar to you at the campfire.
-He also draws a lot. Many of his drawings are you or for you or of your favourite things. Please don't mind him, he just loves everything about you.
⤷ Tom Felton
-Everyone knows that Tom never left the Harry Potter fandom and you love Harry Potter as well, so it wasn't surprise when Tom posted you and him in a Harry Potter merch (him in Slytherin colors and you in your own house colors) on his instagram.
-He has a dog named Willow so his wallpaper is you holding Willow in your arms with Harry Potter merch on you (Willow has his Slytherin scarf and you have his Slytherin sweatsthirt)
-Again Tom as many other actors, loves music. He writes songs, sings, plays on a guitar. Many of his songs includes you and Willow, your relationship or his emotions.
-He will have your name tattooed near to his collarbone with a little heart next to it.
-Tom will show off his skills on his skateboard. He can skate pretty well and he's always so smiley and happy when you compliment him. If you ask, he'll also teach you few basic tricks but prepare for some bruises from all the falls, he'll kiss you as many times as much bruises you will have.
-Tom loves when you give him back massages, doesn't matter if you massage him with some fancy oils and with you palms stroking up and down on his back with some gentle rubbs or he can lay on your chest and you can scratch his back with you nails.
⤷ Rupert Grint
-Rupert loves ice cream and at one time he bought a ice cream van and gave ice cream to all the actors from Harry Potter with you helping him. He'll often take you on a ice cream date or will cuddle you while watching movies and eating ice cream.
-One of his favourite actors is Jim Carrey, which means you two often watch movies where he played and you somehow managed to get him a autograph form Jim, which made him incredibly happy you can't even imagine.
-If you two are not watching movies with Jim Carrey then definitely MCU movies, because he's a fan of marvel.
-Rupert love Artic Monkeys so when you two bake together there is always one of their songs playing softly in the background. He will often mumble the lyrics without realizing and if you point it out, he'll blush.
-Rupert is a dog lover so you two often visit nearest shelters and play with the dogs there. Rupert and you fell in love with one of the dogs, dalmatian named Teddy, so you adopted him. After a year you bought another dog but this time not from a shelter but from a verified seller.
-He loves photographing and his favourite things to photograph is you and your dogs, no wonder that there are so many pictures of you two or the dogs around the house, but he keeps his favourite besides him on his night table.
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billysgun · 3 months
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woven
edward cullen x fem!reader |edward sneaks into your bedroom like always. but this time, you ask him to hold you|
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your body is tense as you curl around your woven sheets, the sudden cool air settling in the room as the corner of your mattress dips
you feel his heavy hand trace over your leg and you couldn't help the smile that was pulled from your lips
you turn over to see him and his golden eyes seem to soften as your arms open wide for him
"come and hold me, please"
he nods and you notice how his chest stops moving as he moves on top of the blanket, pulling your warm body to his cold one
you dig your nose into the sheets as his hands reaches over your body to hold yours, thumb brushing against your palm softly, putting you into a trance
the wind that drifts from the open window isn't nearly as cold as your boyfriend, but the goosebumps that lay upon your skin tingle with each stroke from him, igniting your insides from his love.
your body goes limp and your eyes roll back as sleep completely takes you, as relaxed as can be while he watches you fondly.
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an: hehe trying something new. tell me if you guys like it! I'm still posting billy content don't worry!
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"I think this is the first time I've hear you moan... it was like a fucking melody." Prompt.
Can you please do battinson x female reader smut. After he takes her virginity the night before, they wake up in his bed & have sweet morning sex. Y/n is still sore from Bruce’s big 🍆 so he goes down on her first and then has sex.
sing for me
battinson x female!reader note: thank you for the request :) I was all blushy writing this one, oops warnings: smut, NSFW, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), brief mention of cock warming word count: 1868
“Good morning, beautiful,” Bruce whispers into your ear as he presses a soft kiss against the nap of your neck. His hands gently glide across your unclothed skin; searching their way down your shoulder and across your torso before resting at your hip bone and gripping softly.
You’d barely just started to stir, mumbling an incoherent greeting as your boyfriend continues to press soft, loving kisses along the skin of your neck. “Last night was amazing, love; you are amazing…” he whispered again, gently nipping at your earlobe at the end of his sentence. You let out a small whine as a shiver runs down your spine. “Are you feeling okay? No… regrets?”
You rolled over to face Bruce, gently setting your hand on his cheek with a loving smile. “I’m okay,” you promised, kissing his nose gently. “No regrets. I guess, maybe I thought I’d feel different losing my virginity but I don’t… I just feel—” you paused to bite your lip as you tried to put words to what you were trying to say. “I love you.”
Bruce’s smile grew wider at your words. “I love you,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours deeply. You spent a few minutes like this, your lips moving together passionately but soft and lovingly. You felt the butterflies in your stomach multiple as Bruce arched his hips towards you, pushing his erect cock against your stomach.
Images of the night before fluttered through your mind at the feeling: his kisses along your thighs, the way you came around his fingers first as he helped to stretch you out, the way he was so slow and kind as he pushed into you, the fullness you felt… God, the absolute fullness. “B-Bruce,” you giggled softly as you pulled away with a bright blush on your face. He had traced his hands down your thighs and was tracing soft circles against the sensitive skin just below your core.
“I think last night was the first time I’ve ever heard you moan, Y/N,” he whispered, looking into your eyes with his lust filled orbs. He voice was shaking and you could hear him swallow his own moan before you spoke again. “It was like a fucking melody. My own, personal, full band orchestra…” He groaned softly, dipping his chin down to kiss your neck more hungrily now.
You squeezed your eyes shut, chest heaving as his sloppy kisses ignited the fire between your thighs. “I would do anything to hear it again, Y/N; whatever you want, it’s yours; I just need to hear your moans from these perfect lips.” He gently reached a hand up to squeeze your chin ever so softly before pressing a hungry kiss into your lips.
You tried to stifle your moans still; it almost embarrassed you even though Bruce was here begging you for it. You and Bruce had only ever made out until last night, so the sounds and movements that accompanied the new pleasures that Bruce sent through your body still felt foreign. “Bruce,” you whispered, pushing against his chest slightly. “I-I want you…”
His eyes darkened slightly at your words and the hand that was tracing your thigh made quick work towards your folds. “W-Wait!” You quickly said, stopping his fingers at your pubic bone, just above your clit.
“What is it, baby?” Bruce whispered, gently brushing his hand through your hair. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know you won’t, and you didn’t last night, either,” you reassure as a blush crept over your cheeks again. “It’s just that, I’m sore…”
Bruce couldn’t stop the prideful smirk that crossed his face. He moved his fingers slower now, gently pushing the tip of his middle finger through your glistening folds to find your clit first. “I can help with that, love,” he whispered, starting to reposition your bodies carefully. You gulped as you laid fully on your back now and Bruce hovered himself down your body, tossing the covers onto the floor.
He lined a trail of sloppy kisses from your neck, across your breasts, over your stomach before stopping just before your folds. He gulped as he stared at your pussy that was aching for (and because of) him, licking his lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes and placed a soft kiss over your plump lips.
Your lips parted as a soft gasp escaped and the smallest moan echoed from your throat. Bruce squeezed his eyes shut at the sound as he slowly pushed his tongue to part your folds. “So beautiful,” he whispered, using one hand to kept your lips parted while the other gently raises your thighs over his thighs. He keeps his eyes on you as he laps his tongue against you harder and more direct now, just barely grazing over your entrance as his nose tickles against your clit.
He gently uses one finger to rub circles around your clit while slowly pushing his tongue into you, feeling your gummy walls clench around his intrusion. “Woah,” you moan, raising your hips to the feeling; he smirked against you as he gently fucked his tongue into you.
He worked slowly, switching between gently sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. He watched you slowly let go, as your chest heaved harder and more moans escaped from your mouth. “I’m going to finger you now, baby,” he mumbled against your clit. “Is that okay?”
You reached your hands down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Y-yu—” a strangled moan left your lips as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Y-Yes!” He chuckled softly as he gathered your juices on his middle finger before gently pushing the digit into you.
“Your so tight, my love,” he whispered as he craned his neck slightly to see your face as he started to pump his middle finger in and out of you. “Such a beautiful sight…” he moaned, watching your eyes flutter shut. He reached his free hand up to grope your breast lightly, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
After earning another soft moan from you, he gently slipped a second finger into you and continued to pump at the same speed. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispered as he took your hand and set it on your breast to replace his. He watched happily as your instinctively started to grope yourself and play with your nipple, moaning at the feeling of your own hands. He moaned softly, pushing his lips against your clit again as slipped a third finger in.
“Want you, Bru—” you cut yourself off with a breathy moan as his three fingers curled inside you. He moaned against your clit, lapping happily as you tightened around him.
“Are you going to cum, beautiful?” He mumbled against you, speeding his fingers up. You felt the coil in your stomach stretch at his words, barely noticing that was what that feeling meant. You nodded your head eagerly, your back arching slightly as it started to wash through you.
“F-Faster, please,” you cried out. Bruce quickly complied, pumping his fingers faster as your tightening walls tried to push him out; he latched his lips around your clit, adding another layer of pleasure as your coil snapped and your legs shook against his shoulders.
Bruce lapped at the extra juices from your orgasm, pulling his fingers out and using the slick to gently pump his very erect and uncomfortable cock a few times. “Think you can take me again?” He whispered as he crawled upwards so his face was hovering over yours.
“Please,” you whispered, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. “I want you inside of me.” He groaned softly at your words and stared into your eyes as he ran his tip through your folds, nudging it against your clit. “B-Bruce,” you voiced somewhere between a whimper and a moan.
He smiled at you as he gently pushed his tip into your entrance, slowly allowing another centimeter in with each of your heavy breaths. “You are – fuck – you are doing so good, love,” he praised, watching you blink rapidly as you attempted to stay relaxed and not clamp down on him. “That’s it, baby,” he reassured, grunting slightly as your walls squeeze around him, already milking his cock. “Hard parts almost over.”
Both of you let out nearly pornographic moans as he bottoms out inside of you, his face buried into your neck as you cling to his shoulders. “I feel like a fucking king inside of you,” he whispers into your ear, kissing your shoulder softly as he rolls his hips against you softly, helping you adjust to his size.
The moan he earns from the action could have sent him into madness, but he remained controlled as he started to gently rock his hips against you. He moved to watch your face as the moans escaped your lips, his dick hitting spots inside of you that re-defined everything you learned durin sex-ed in school. “That’s right, ma, sing for me,” Bruce moaned as he pulled nearly all the way out and slowly rocked back in.
He didn’t need to move fast or get any extra friction to get that feeling of his own high approaching already; the way your walls clamped around him and the heavenly sounds you were making underneath him were enough for that.
“B-Bruce!” You cried out as that familiar coil returned fast and hard. He reached his hand down between your bodies and started to feverishly rub your clit while his hips remained slow and controlled, thrusting deep and hard enough that you were nearly overwhelmed. “I-I think I’m cumming,” you moaned loudly, ignoring your immediate embarrassment from the lewd sounds that left your lips as you felt that pleasure wash across your entire body, making your toes curl.
“Fuck,” Bruce groaned, his hips stuttering. He had fully intended to get at least 3 more orgasms out of you like this but hearing you moan his name was hard to ignore.
“You feel so good stretching me out like this,” you moaned into his ear, not thinking about the consequences your actions would have on Bruce’s composure. He moaned loudly as he buried his face back into your neck and released his warm seed inside you, keeping his hips pressed against yours as he twitched against your walls.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled into your skin. “You are fucking amazing.” You giggled softly, whining as he pulled out of you. “Shh, my love,” he whispered as he rolled onto his side and pulled your back against his chest. He reached down and grunted as he pushed himself back into your cunt. “Feels so good, just want to stay here for a bit…” He reassures as you moan softly at the feeling of fullness again.
“I love you,” you whisper before yawning and nuzzling yourself backwards against him, earning a groan into your ear.
“I love you, so much,” he replies with a lazy kiss to your temple. You both fall back into a peaceful slumber thinking of how many mornings you’ll get to spend with his thick cock buried to the hilt inside of you.
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waynewifey · 8 months
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dear mr. wayne — b.w
part one: dear mr. wayne
part two: aftermath
part three: aporia
epilogue
summary: it’s not easy being a politician’s wife. it’s even harder to love a vigilante. months of negligence make you an easy target to his enemies.
pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader
genre: angst romance & dark action
warnings: swearing; smoking; kidnapping; violence; a bit of gore; “you” is she/her; bruce is the worst husband ever btw
word count: 2.8k
A/N: i wrote this back in january 2022 when the batman movie had just premiered, so kinda off the hype here. i hope you enjoy it anyway. already working on part 2, let me know if you guys would like it! also, this has taken a path way darker than i had in mind so i’m sorry if it’s too much. comments are appreciated!
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gotham city, USA.
it's late.
you have no clock nearby, but you feel it in your bones. in your muscles too. it's too late and bruce should be home already. laying in the sofa, only half conscious, you regret telling alfred to go to bed. at least you wouldn't be alone. of course, being married to the batman you knew he would patrol at night often. you were okay with it. but lately bruce had been too focused on his other, and recent, goal: running for mayor. at first it seemed out of character, he was never good with the public or the press. but he stared at thomas wayne's painting in the hall in such painful façade, it made sense all off sudden. you were supportive of it. you showed up to every event just to stay by his side, to show the people the lovable man he was. the man you loved. the man who couldn't even be home for dinner.
the penthouse's elevator dings, opening its doors at the end of the hallway you see perfectly from your seat. your head doesn't lift instantly, like in the first week. instead, a long sigh escapes from your lips as bruce reaches the living room.
"hello, darling." he says, still in motion as he walks the stairway up to the room you shared. not a single kiss, or a hug. you follow him, because what else is there to do? you need to go to bed anyway. by the time you get there, slowly, his suit is already on the floor and he's taking a shower.
"how was the meeting?" you ask, knowing he usually did his Wayne Enterprising meetings — which consisted of hanging out long hours in bars with business men — at night. recently, he started a complicated relationship with a real estate company he wanted to invest in.
"the usual." he stopped fully answering these questions three weeks ago, making the only time you ever talked even shorter. the city has gotten more violent than ever since his batman duties were put on standby.
"any closer to sealing the deal?" you sit on the bed, watching the open bathroom door.
"probably." it's not like he's being rude. well, maybe a little bit. he just doesn't want to talk any more, it's clear on his tone. but it's 2am and you brain isn't working too well.
"when is this gonna end, bruce?" you finally say, as he puts his boxers on. "when are we ever having dinner again? or going on a date? when are you gonna stop treating me like i'm some sort of home decor?" you almost vomit out the words that have been stuck on your throat for days. surprisingly, the heartache doesn't softens. instead, it gets worse. it's like admitting your abandonment.
six months ago, you started trying to get pregnant. it hadn't always been a dream of yours, but the idea of having an heir to all you've spent your life building is charming. you realised you were in the right time to do so, you had just turned 28, bruce was 32, and both had stable careers. a month later, bruce announced his candidacy. and so soon you gave up. you told yourself once he won the election everything would be fine. you would try again. but, realistically, being a mayor was already a lot of work on itself. he wouldn't want a pregnant wife or a child to take care of. after the four years, who knows? he might as well have a new life project. and your family would always stand on the side.
"i don't know what you're talking about..." he doesn't look into your eyes. hell, he barely looks at you. that feeling, the negligence, is enough to trigger the tears. you take a deep breath, making an effort to look composed.
"don't you, though?" your voice is shaken. look at me. look at me. look at me. look at me. he doesn't. "bruce." you call, finally getting his attention. however, the boredom on his face knocks you off your feet, legs trembling in pain and anger. "i just want you to make an effort on us..."
"really? cause that's all i ever done." he's leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in a way you would find attractive in other circumstances. but now he's yelling and you fight back the urge to shrink into the mattress. "do you think i wanna have a kid on this fucked up town? i'm tryna fix this. fix everything!" his faces turns red-ish. something inside of you makes you want to leave the room. you've always been an avoider, that is one of the reasons you hadn't really had couple fights. so, basically, this is very new. "i've got the weight of the fucking world on my back."
"let's leave then" you manage to say, replacing the you chose this. it was true, however, that he was the one to put himself in this position. bruce wayne could've gotten his entire life without working if he wanted to. but he always needed to save everyone, to suffer for other's happiness. he was a giver. sometimes you wondered if he needed to be saved instead.
"you know i can't do that." he mumbles, in a defeated tone. a sigh escapes from his lips, suddenly the tiredness takes over his face. it's almost enough to make you let it go, to internalise your distress again. he really can't, you know that. he feels that the city is his liability, because it was the only thing he had since he became an orphan. but he had you, too. he just didn't acknowledge that.
"and i can't stay like this." it sounds like an whisper, but it's a plead. choose me. please. he seems to read it in your eyes, face contorting in agony when he realises what you're asking for. me or gotham? it's stupid to think he would ever choose you. but you hoped, so desperately, because you would choose him. always.
"let's not do this tonight, okay? i have to be in the office by the morning." tears instantly fall as he turns off the lights and lays on the bed, turning his back to where you slept. for a moment, you're static. his words were final. were you ever in control of something in your life? why were all of these decisions being made for you? mechanically, you stand on both feet and walk to the door. you don't even notice your movement until you're on the elevator. your husband didn't intervene either. this neighbourhood is one of the safest in town, which honestly isn't much but you had to get out. anyway, nowhere is totally safe at 3am.
you walk two blocks, clinging to the fluffy sweater you wore. the depressing air of gotham slows your pace, to a point you start wondering if it was really necessary to be aware. you could feel the city devouring you, starting with your hope. the blue 24h sign lights up the street, in a way that isn't welcoming, but you know the place well enough to not be scared to get in. a bell sounds over the door and wakes up the male behind the counter. he's got long black hair and seems to haven't seen a good night of sleep in weeks. same,you think.
"hi. can i get the blue one?" you point at the camel's behind the man. he nods, quickly putting a pack on the wooden board. the prices pops up on the cashier's display. you pay and go outside. smoking was an bad habit from your college days, when pressure got too excruciating. every now and then you would treat yourself to some cigarettes, for the confidence it gave you. the sense of control to be the one, for once, ruining yourself. the smoke burns your throat on the first inhale and you hold back a cough. you're too entertained by the cigar to notice the black van approaching. it stops right in front of you, and everything happens too quickly for your brain to process. it's all dark.
he's in a meeting, the boring kind.
the kind that has him seated in silence while a representative talks to his employees, who never get to listen to their actual boss. there's a chart being shown on a large tv on the other side of the room. he's not listening, though. he's writing down ideas for a thanksgiving speech. a head pops into the conference room.
"mr. wayne." it's one of the new assistants, hired especially for the election season. he didn't care to memorise her name, because temps usually don't last long. if she hadn't called him, he might've not even looked up. but the room is silent, expecting eyes on him. the girl at the door looks terrified. "you're urgently required outside, please."
he sighs as he gets up from his leather chair. the second the door closed behind him, chatter is heard again. in the corridor, the woman conducts him to his office and they get in. there's a bit of a commotion, four men lounge around his table, all their faces tense.
"mr. wayne, i'm afraid we don't have good news." the head of the marketing team speaks, a man called robert vance. he's probably said the same phrase to bruce about seven times this month, so that doesn't do much. the assistant approaches with an ipad, unpausing a video. "we received this from an anonymous email about forty minutes ago. we weren't able to get the ip address just yet."
the video starts with a black screen, zooming out to show a woman with a bag over her head. she has her hands on her back and is kneeling on the ground. bruce's heart skips a beat noticing the hair falling down her shoulders.
"bruce wayne..." an eerie voice whispers from behind the camera, breathing heavily. "i've robbed an egg from your basket, and you haven't even noticed!" there's a disturbing chuckle and the video shakes a bit. bruce doesn't move, eyes stuck on the screen. no one in the room has done anything other than breathing. someone gulps. "it's been long hours, but we're having fun, aren't we, darling?" a gloved hand reaches for the bag, pulling it out. her face - your face - is dripping blood. you're biting on a fabric, still in your home clothes. bruce's jaw clenches. you're crying, face beaten, in this degrading situation. your eyes pierce the screen right into his. suddenly, a gun is tapped on your forehead and you close your eyes into a sob. your lips mouth please. "i'm running out of patience here, you're running out of time. let's do business, shall we?" he laughs, knocking the pistol on the side of your head, making you fall laying on the floor, unconscious. the spot bleeds. "here's my proposal: you come clean about your father's deal with carmine falcone and maybe i don't shoot little mrs. wayne... or i do both. it's your choice, really. the clock is ticking. tick tock, wayne."
the video stops, the sight of a gun pointed at your unresponsive body burns into his mind. bruce is panting, the adrenaline rushes into his brain. there's a million of plans being built, but none of them seem viable.
"don't let media get this." he managed to say. one of the men in suits says it's too late. the tv flicks on showing a news report on the video. he kicks the side of his table, the contents being thrown across the room. "FUCK! you bastards wait forty fucking minutes to show me this?" he screams, no one can look him in the eyes. a hand runs through his black hair. "meanwhile my wife is out there with a gun on her head! and what have you done? i swear to god, if i don't find her alive and well i'm killing everyone in this goddamned room with my bare hands."
he storms out of there, reaching to his phone to call alfred and noticing the multiple missed calls. fucking silent mode. the sun is setting.
"i got the address." the butler says, instead of hello. a 'ding' sounds in his ear.
there has been pain for so long. you try to remember before the pain. but all is pain. he has to make it stop.
the floor is cold cement and you feel so small in this huge warehouse. the man in the mask knows you can't run. not only you're tied up, but the will had left you long before getting dragged into that van. he sees it in your eyes. so he strolls around, always in that ridiculous dark green overall. then he beats you up for fun. no cameras. just you and the devil himself. you find yourself praying, after all these years. you don't pray to get out, no. you pray so that it ends soon. you pray that the stab wound in your abdomen will get you an infection. you pray that when you close your eyes, you never have to open them again. but the divine has left you in the cold cement.
there's an explosion. your eyes open. there's smoke and dust taking over one of the walls. you're seeing everything horizontally, cheek on the floor. the man in green is just as scared as you were.
bruce wayne busted that fucking wall down. he expected a full team of psychopaths and maybe some more security. there was just one coward in the warehouse. the thing stares at him coming out of the smoke, fingers fidgeting. the batman steps forward. the freak steps back. then turns around, runs to a half broken wardrobe and grabs a gun from it. bruce walks slowly. there's a struggle loading the gun. he takes the opportunity to run and throw the thing on the floor. he bangs his head on it. the vermin screams. he takes one punch. two. tries to reach for the fallen gun. bruce steps on his hand and the loud crack echoes in the room. he screams again. three punches. the mask is taken off. his nose is bleeding. more punches. he holds the neck. the head is turning purple. oh how he wants to kill this little shit. bruce wayne will kill him. it will just take a few more seconds...
"baby, no" at first he thinks he's imagining it. it's so soft, so weak. but he looks up and there she is. his hands loose. right on the corner, chains on her legs. her face is ruined from blood and dirt. her wrists bleed too. the motherfucker chained her. hell is too good for this thing.
bang. on his shoulder. he looks down and the blood is dripping on the freak's face. he’s pushed to the side, holding the wound. tiny white dots obstruct his vision. he grunts through the pain. the man gets up and runs towards you. bruce can’t move. he arches his back, trying to roll and lay on his chest. it feels like he can’t move his arm anymore, like his bones had detached. when he finally does so, the man is escaping through a window. his hand searches for the adrenaline-boost in his belt, grabs it and quickly injects on his leg. it takes a second to get his blood rushing again. he crawls up and jumps through the window, which leads him to a metal balcony.
you’re almost standing, but he holds your chains and a gun to your face. the shooting sound had scared you awake. you can’t believe how close to bruce you finally are, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. you can hear water running below your feet, you don’t need daylight to show you the violent river you’re standing above. this is not good.
bruce has his hands up in the air and is holding himself back to not do anything stupid. the man’s face is contorting into the creepiest smile. no.
everything happens so slowly, yet he’s not quick enough to grab you in time. you’re falling in the air and he jumped after you. for a moment, the world is air. you can’t hold out your hand. your hair is flying in your face, he does not want to die without seeing you one last time. his cape holds him back and the distance between you only increases. you’re gone. the impact comes.
part two
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icabrth · 11 months
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Childish
pairings: edward cullen x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend finally finds out about your childish secret.
warnings: none
main masterlist
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The two of you were such an unlikely pair; he was dark and vampiric (literally), while you were naïve and childish – searching for the good in everyone. Neither of your friends would’ve ever thought of or even considered you guys together. You weren’t overly emotional and you still acted your age, you just viewed the world a little differently. However, due to this he didn’t exactly know just how different you were until visited your house for the first time, to help you with an assignment.
You were busy tidying up all the clutter in your bedroom, and shoving a pile of clothing under your bed when Edward suddenly knocked on your window, startling you. You turned to the source of vibrations, eyes locking with the ones of your boyfriend.
You zoned out for a short moment, before snapping back to reality at the realization that all of your plushies were still scattered everywhere from your bed to the top of your wardrobe. Immediately shutting the curtains as you scrambled to pick everything up and hide everything. As you did, you didn’t miss the smirk forming itself on your face.
Just as you were about to pick up your favorite stuffed toy “Sunny”, (which was a grey elephant with Dumbo-like-ears) Edward beat you to it. As he carefully inspected it, you found a suddenly found the floor patterns very interesting. “Listen, they’re not mine–!” You pleaded, timidly lifting your head to meet his gaze. Though, you were met with surprise at his expression.
He was smiling – grinning, in fact. His teasing smile fit perfectly with his squinting blue eyes, you thought. The glimpse in his eyes stunned you, and you could no longer move as your body wanted you to. He spoke up, “Sunny, huh?”. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and he chuckled.
“I can read thoughts, remember?”
“Babe, I told you not to read my thoughts anymore!” You wined, stomping your foot as you snatched the plushie away from him. You sat down on the bed, facing away from him, huffing. You acted out of awkwardness in situations like this as you never really knew how to handle them.
Edward pulled you out of your thoughts and into his arms, the two of you positioned leaning against the bed frame. He kissed your cheek plenty times as his ice cold, firm hands came in contact with your chest. The way he did it was nowhere near sexual, he simply enjoyed being able to keep up with your heartbeat. “you’re adorable, you know?” He started as he played around with the elephant, holding it by its giant ears. “Is this one your favorite?” He asked you in a baby voice.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” You laughed, “it’s not like I’m a baby or anything – I just like having these plushies, it’s nostalgic”. Although Edward couldn’t read your emotions, he practically sensed the way your heart fell.
“Hey, hey! You know I didn’t mean it like that!” His voice was soft, even when he raised it. “I get it, I still hold onto my first prom suit from the 1900s”.
“Did you even have prom back then? You giggled into his chest. “Sort of, I guess it was more like a ball”
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slaymybreathaway · 9 months
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Batwife (Bruce Wayne x Reader)
"The Batman" 2022
Warnings: mentions of nudity
Word Count: 776
Masterlist
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"The city's favourite couple are saying 'I do' this morning at Gotham Cathedral. Billionaire Bruce Wayne and Oscar Winning actress Y/n L/n made their first public appearance as a couple nearly 3 years ago at the premier of y/n's movie The Gravedigger," one reporter said.
Every news station in the city waited impatiently outside the cathedral for them to emerge. It was the event of the decade, the closest Gotham would ever get to a royal wedding.
Just then, the newlyweds emerged from the Church. Y/n was wearing a simple silk wedding dress with colourful flowers adorned on the lace sleeves that covered her arms. Bruce was looking sharp in a black suit. The handkerchief tucked neatly in his breast pocket was a bright yellow. Many fans speculate that the burst of colour was added by his new wife, the actress being famous for her making block colours fashionable again.
As soon as the doors of the Cathedral were opened, they were bombarded with flashing cameras and intrusive questions.
"Y/n, many speculate you are marrying for money," one particularly pushy reporter asked.
Bruce tried to get his new wife to ignore this statement but y/n turned around and spoke straight into his microphone. "I'm more than capable of making my own money, thank you," she said and followed her husband into the wedding car.
♡ 5 years later ♡
Y/n Wayne sat in living room watching, no studying the news. Every night she did the same, waiting for the headline she dreaded 'Masked Vigilante Found Dead'. Thankfully it hasn't happened yet.
Then, Alfred brought her a cup of coffee. "Here, I assume you won't go to sleep until Master Bruce comes home," he smiled slightly.
"Am I that readable?" she asked and took the cup "Anyways will you tell me when he does get home, please?"
Alfred agreed and y/n went back to watching the news.
An hour later, y/n was on the verge of falling asleep when Alfred came back in. "Master Bruce has arrived," he announced.
Y/n yawned. She got up, put on her robe and got in the elevator down to what her husband called the 'bat-cave' but she referred to it as the glorified basment.
When the elevator stopped y/n could see Bruce writing down the nights events.
"Dear Diary, it's Halloween today and I had to dress up like a bat. All the other kids made fun of me and stole my candy," she joked and walked over to him.
Bruce smiled "I told you not to wait around for me anymore honey," He closed his notebook and brought her face to kiss him.
She watched as he took out his camera contact lenses and placed them on the scanner.
Y/n knew that he wouldn't listen to her properly while watching the footage of tonight so she decided to mess with him.
"I went to a Halloween party tonight,"
"Mhm, that's nice honey. What did you wear?" he asked, not really caring about the answer.
"Barely anything," y/n whispered in his ear.
No reaction whatsoever came from Bruce's face, he replied with another automated answer "Great, hope you didn't get too cold,"
Y/n crossed her arms in frustration. "You should've came. To the party, I mean. If I attend another social event alone people will start to rumour your death,"
"Well, it seems like crime never ends in this city," he said, his head still stuck in the monitors.
"Yeah but marriages do," y/n mumbled.
Bruce broke out of his trance and turned to face his wife. "What?"
Y/n's expression broke into a smile. "The fact that I had to mention divorce for my husband to even make eye contact with me,"
He sighed "I'm sorry, my love. It's just, this thing," he gestures to the screen.
"Maybe I can help?" y/n asked, already knowing the answer. Bruce didn't want her involved in the whole 'Batman' thing because she worries enough about him without her knowing the amount of danger he really is in.
"C'mon, with most women, if their husband stayed out half the night and comes back with eye makeup on then he's cheating. My situation is... A little different. Just, please let me help you," she looked up at him pleadingly.
He sighed. "Alright come here," he wrapped his arms around his wife as he showed her the 'He lies still' card.
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anitalenia · 8 months
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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 ₊˚⊹♡
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⋆˙⟡♡ SYNOPSIS ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦. ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛… 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡. 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹ the beginning of how it started. a part detailing how Batman initially treated you and handled the relationship.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹ how Batman fell in love with you and all the things that happened leading up to it. all the signs and actions that made him love you.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹ how Batman handled the reality of being in love with you and all the things he did to try and hide from it. better yet, his confession.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹ yours and Bruce’s relationship and how he was with you. some relationship headcanons for fun.
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⋆˙⟡♡ PAIRING ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ battinson x fem!reader
⋆˙⟡♡ CONTENT INCLUDES ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ mentions of sex, mentions of fighting and threatening, rough kissing, mentions of sad!Bruce / undertones of depression, mentions of alcohol & insomnia, bad words, sweet kisses, tears, hair pulling, love confessions, not really a whole lot of sexiness just headcanons mostly
⋆˙⟡♡ WARNINGS ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ mature content, emotionally tortured Bruce Wayne, maybe not my best story telling :(, mentions of blood and fighting cuz this is Batman, alcoholism
⋆˙⟡♡ AUTHORS NOTE ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ thanks to @diavolosbaby for requesting this!! Hope you enjoy and it lives up to your standards 🩷
OTHER LINKS ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
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𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓷 ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ He told you what this was before he even started it. Told you this was strictly business, no feelings involved; you knew who he was during a chance encounter and you were the only one he could really come to after that. It was simple, straight forward; you needed his dick and he needed your pussy.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce came to you a lot, which was a little odd compared to how you perceived him to be. You thought he was a very busy man, always fighting crime or hiding away in his mansion, always too busy to bother with someone as unimportant as you. But no, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was there at least three times a week, standing by your window in that black suit of his with his cape blowing with the wind, waiting for you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was always quiet, head filled with whatever torturous pain lingered in the shadows of his mind, brimming with the secrets he never told you and you never asked for. He never spoke, unless it was a command spoken in a gentle gruffness. He never smiled, tried not to grunt or make too much noise, but some nights he couldn’t contain himself and the sounds just escaped him. Those were the nights he was particularly frustrated.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never let you take off his mask at first, he’d leave it on and you were left grasping at leather and air. He didn’t like affection, having you touch his scars and his body, it was too vulnerable, too intimate, for his liking. So, naturally, he didn’t stay to cuddle afterwards. The business was over, your job was done, he’d slip out the window as you’d bask in the aftershocks.
⋆˙⟡♡ His heart was cold but his body was warm, always warm. He was like a furnace when he’d be flat against you, fucking into you with his head in your neck and his hands gripping your jaw, your waist, your thighs. You’d always get so hot, craving his warmth like a bug to a bonfire.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never bothered to ask you anything about yourself, but you had a suspicion he had to have done some research on you during those long lonely days in the darkness of his home. He was too cautious not to, too curious. And he did. He found out everything about you but didn’t share a single detail about himself. He was Bruce Wayne, rich son whose parents died by day, and then Batman, vengeance personified by night. That’s all you needed to know.
⋆˙⟡♡ Batman only came to you in the middle of the night, sometimes bloody and beaten, your fingers running over tender bruises that would make him grimace. A part of him liked the pain, figured he deserved it. Sometimes you worried for him on the nights he was particularly beaten up, but he didn’t give you time to ask questions before he was shoving you against your dresser and pressing himself against you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t like being in the light, being too seen. He liked it with all the lights off, your room glowing with the dim light of the moon and the streetlights, your face pressed into his neck or shoved into a pillow so you couldn’t look at him.
⋆˙⟡♡ In the beginning, he liked it when you just submitted to him; he mostly cared about his own pleasure at first as he told you what this was, why he was doing this. That didn’t stop him from making sure you came at least once though. He couldn’t help it, didn’t want you to feel completely used.
⋆˙⟡♡ You noticed he always had this way about him when he touched you, almost like he yearned to hold you closer but knew he shouldn’t. His hands were rough, long fingers and hot palms, lingering on your skin before he’d move them away, never touching one place too long before he’d move on. It was almost a tease.
⋆˙⟡♡ He spied on you, a lot actually, would watch you from his spot on a roof top, stare at you through your big office window. He didn’t know why, just bored and curious, he always told himself. He’d see you stress yourself out, fill out paper after paper while your boss did nothing but throw more at you. You took it anyway and Bruce was confused by why. But he never asked, didn’t want to make a connection with you and risk losing you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He remembered sneaking into your house, waiting for you, but you were late coming home from work and he wasn’t sure if he should leave or not. He felt wrong about it, but he looked through your photos and your notebooks, saw a glimpse into your real life outside of him and work and he quickly put everything back the way it was and left. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to see you as anything different than what he already did.
⋆˙⟡♡ He would lie to Alfred about where he was going at night, why he would be so late coming home. But Alfred knew he was lying, he wasn’t sure about what exactly, but Alfred knew Bruce would come to him in time.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce tried hard to keep his and yours personal lives outside of your mutual situation, he really did. He didn’t want to know you, hear you talk about your problems and your dreams and fears and learn what made you you, from your own words. He was alone and knew he was meant to be alone, planned on being alone forever. Being with him would only put you in danger, a bigger target on his back he didn’t need. It was for your own protection, for the sake of both your lives and both your hearts.
⋆˙⟡♡ He vowed to himself to keep it that way, strictly professional, a hobby almost. He really didn’t plan to fall in love, he really really didn’t…
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ Your living room was dark when you came home from work, later than usual because of your infuriating boss; he was lazy, relied on his employees to do his work while he sat in his office and ate his donuts. You hated him, loathed him, absolutely couldn’t stand him, but you understood he was just another obstacle, a milestone you needed to get through before you reached where you needed to be. So, you didn’t make a fuss, you didn’t complain, didn’t speak up. You did what you were supposed to as you were supposed to do it, just another hamster circling the wheel of business over and over until you finally got the balls to break the cycle.
Unfortunately, your ambition was almost too much for you sometimes, tonight was evidence enough.
You set your keys in the ceramic bowl by the door with a tired sigh, soft rain pattering on your windows, furniture lit up with a dim orange glow from the street lamps outside. All twisting shadows and rain drops. Your nose tickled with the scent of vanilla bean and raspberry, remembering the candle you had forgotten to blow out before you left. Oops.
Your hair was damp, gray suit littered in dark spots from the rain outside. Your limbs were sore and heavy, eyes burning and fluttering for a semblance of rest. Your heels were sore from the heels you’ve been prancing around in all day, your whole body exhausted in general. This was normal for you though, you always came home lagged and tired. You regretted being such a hard worker, but knew it would ultimately pay off in the future.
You walked to your bedroom, your heels clacking on the floor unevenly, dragging on the wooden boards as you navigated your way through the darkness. You held your purse loosely in your left hand, a shiver crawling up your spine as an unexpected gust of coolness swept up your legs and down your neck.
Your foot stuttered, lingering by the doorway in your bedroom as the rain seemed louder, less dull, wind whistling your black bed sheets. You furrowed your eyebrows at that, knowing you left your window closed before you left. Your eyes strained to see anything in the darkness as panic blared in your chest like a fire alarm, trying to make out any figure in the shadows of your room. You slowly crept forward, preparing for the worst, your exhaustion melting into hot fear that made your bones go stiff.
You swallowed, eyes immediately going to the open window to see the empty street below, the sound of a car alarm in the distance overpowering the rain that seemed to just pound harder. Your window was wide open, sheer purple curtains flapping from the breeze like a set of violet wings. Your eyes narrowed at that, hearing nothing but buzzing silence ringing in your ears. Then, it just hit you.
You couldn’t describe it exactly, but you felt a sensation of calmness wash over you as you let out a hefty breath, fear gradually melting away as your body relaxed and hands unclenched. It was like your body knew it wasn’t in any real danger, that there was nothing lurking in the shadows besides what was supposed to be. This was all too familiar to you; a setting you’ve come home to many times before. The open window, the darkness, the buzzing calm.
You felt excitement spark through you in recognition as you felt your neck tingle, a barely there whisper of a breath wash over your neck and tickle your hair.
You felt a smile quirk on your lips, turning around slowly, sucking in a sharp breath when you were met with the large bulking figure of the man in black standing just an inch away from you, a shadow hiding in shadow as he stared down at you with those black soulless eyes. He was big, a thing you liked about him, dirt encrusted on his suit and so out of place in the cozy warmth of your home. He was big and bulky, comically large for your small bedroom.
You looked back up at him, your purse dropping to the floor as instinctual arousal flooded your belly at just the mere sight of him. You couldn’t help it, your body knew what he was capable of and yearned for it. Your throat became dry, you swallowed once more as his eyes, those dark blue gems of his, looked over your face with a certain pained look in them, calculating and tortured, covered in black face paint that hid the beauty of his raw skin.
His pink lips were set in a firm frown, a faint scratch on his chin, breaths slow and even, calm. That damned mask of his covered his face, the fluffiness of his brown hair you seldom ever felt run through your finger tips. He always wore this expression, always so serious and somber like he was going through a dreadful ordeal every second he continued to live. You were always curious as to why, but knew he’d never answer, nor appreciate your nosiness.
You let your thoughts drift off, looking back up at him with a false confidence.
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight…” You mumbled quietly, losing any conviction in your voice as he took a small step forward, closer to you, his heavy boot thudding on your floor. You took a small step back, crumbling under him way too easily, as always. He always loved to completely invade your space, but never let you do the same to him.
You looked up at him, he looked down at you, breaths mingling together as a dark look washed over his oceanic eyes, his strong jaw clenching as he ran his eyes over your face like this was the first time he’d ever seen you. You felt your thighs tighten at the look in them, at the way he looked at you.
You were being honest though, you didn’t expect him tonight. You had seen him two nights ago, expecting not to see him for another few weeks at least.
“Shhh…” He shushed you gently, voice gravelly but gentle, tired but awake, undertones of desire.
He leaned down towards you and you found yourself holding your own arms back from wrapping around him and taking him already, just as he always took you. His gloved hands reached for the edge of the dresser behind you, trapping you between his strong arms and chest, completely invading your senses as your eyes looked into his, almost begging. His cape flowed down his shoulders and shrouded around you both until all you could see was black, the heady smell of smoke and rain tickling your nose, captivating.
He pressed himself against you, a brick wall, the mahogany’s edge digging into your lower back as your breath stuttered. You found yourself looking at his lips, his nose, his eyes, his closeness overwhelming you as you couldn’t figure out where to look, your skin feeling hot and stuffy, the confidence you had previously now a pile on the floor as your stomach twisted.
You could see the rain on his black suit, dripping down all his gear and heavy armor he wore and down to his waist, some falling to the floor in soft drips. You licked your lips, minding the mess, feeling lightheaded and fluttery as you looked back up at him with sparkling eyes.
He cocked his head at you, dark eyes running over your lips before looking back into your own, “Take your hair down.”
He always used such a gentle, tired voice, like he didn’t want to scare you and he could never find enough sleep, but the demand was obvious in his tone, eyes dark and predatory as they stared down at you intently. He didn’t need anymore command, knowing you’d do as he said just like you always did.
You didn’t dare disobey, sensing his need sizzling in the air just as strong as your shared want. You managed eye contact as you brought a hand up to the back of your head, taking out the black hair clip holding your hair together, the rain pattering on your roof almost too loud in your ears. He stared as your hair fell down your shoulders, cascading down your back in silky waves and framing your face. You swallowed, feeling the need to clear your throat as you put a hand through your hair and brushed it over your shoulder.
You saw his eyes run over your hair, the way it fell around your cheeks, his jaw clenching once more. He brought a hand up, big and heavy, running your locks through his fingers, imagining the softness of it as the sweet smell of apricot and citrus filled his nose, the signature flavor of your favorite shampoo.
You sighed at the pleasurable sensation on your scalp, head titling back as your eyes drooped, your hair clip falling to the ground noisily as you brought your hands up and grabbed his forearms. You might’ve been a little dramatic at just a few touches, but you were so needy, needy for this dangerous man you knew absolutely nothing about besides the obvious. He was a stranger in a suit, a stranger to you, but he somehow knew how to touch you better than any man you’ve ever been with.
He took note of your reaction, his own body twitching to touch you as he noticed the look in your eyes. He felt an intense need spark through him, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. He remained calm looking, but his eyes gave it all away.
Your head was yanked back, a pleasurable gasp leaving your lips as you squeezed his arms, looking up at him with your lips parted and breaths heavy. Your head stung, hair being pulled on in just the right way that had a familiar wetness pooling between your thighs, your body buzzing alive with feeling.
Bruce looked down at you, pressing the broadness of himself against you even harder, your breasts smushed against his suit, completely at his mercy. He looked down at you with an unraveled look in his eyes as he tilted your head up towards him.
He kissed you then, rough and hot, groaning into your mouth as his tongue played with yours, teeth clashing and breaths hot against each other. You couldn’t help but moan against him as he finally granted you what you’ve been wanting for so long now, scalp burning from his hold on your hair as your hands flew up and gripped at the leather of his mask, arms wrapped around his neck.
He was forceful and rough, his other hand crawling around your waist and lifting you off the ground with such ease it almost caught you off guard. You gasped into his mouth, his hand tightening on the hold in your hair as you grimaced at the pain.
You didn’t break the kiss, stuck on him as your heels fell off your feet and hit the floor. In two big strides you were suddenly lied flat on your bouncy mattress with Batman himself between your thighs, still holding your waist and head against him as he kissed you fervently.
Your skirt slid down around your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him, pressing him harder into you as all you wanted was him, him everywhere and him all over you. You moaned against him, helpless and desperate, as the ridges in his suit dug into your stomach, his lips movingly hotly against yours as he grunted against you. His cape flowed around you, thick and smooth, trapping you underneath until all you could see was blackness, unable to discern the space between his body and yours.
You knew this was going to be quick; he was too rough, too impatient and needy. It must’ve been a bad night for him, but you didn’t pry no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how much the questions bubbled in your throat and ached in your chest you knew you were in no place to ask. A part of you liked it that way, liked that this was strictly this. You liked that you didn’t have to answer to him, that you weren’t bound to him and he wasn’t to you. It was just simple, secrecy for a night of shameless lust-filled sex in return.
You both got what you wanted and that was enough. You appreciated that he didn’t go beyond that just as you didn’t. Outside of this room he was Batman, a dangerous vigilante some trusted and some hated, he was Bruce Wayne, an orphan child with more money and pain than he needed. But in the shadow of your bedroom, under the covers with you, there was no identity, no obligation, just two strangers seeking each other out in search of the one thing they both wanted, blessed with none of the other drama that followed a relationship.
With Bruce on top of you in this very moment, his hands gripping your body for no reason other than pleasure, you knew he would be gone before the night was over, and you’d be alone in your bed with bite marks and handprints on your skin to serve as a reminder of the man who gave them to you. You knew he would silently leave, slip away when he thought you were sleeping, you knew he wouldn’t talk or tell you any of his problems. He’d give you what you wanted and then slip into the shadows… you had to admit, It was the most perfect arrangement.
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ Batman didn’t plan on ever falling in love with you, but when he did, it had happened after a couple of months of doing what he did with you. But before he did, things had been going so well. You never intervened in his life and he never intervened in yours. Just as he expected, just as he preferred. It had been perfect, but somewhere along the way he had gotten too involved, started to trust you without even realizing it.
⋆˙⟡♡ At first, it started with him staying in your bed longer than he used to. You didn’t argue, comfortable with the heat his body gave you in the coldness of the night. He found himself dozing off after you would, your fluffy blanket soft on his skin and the mattress like a cloud for his broken body. He’d always be gone before you woke up though. You didn’t want to say anything about his little sleepovers, scared you’ll frighten him and he’ll stop. So you let him do as he pleased, enjoying his company albeit his silence.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never cuddled with you though, ever (don’t worry, he lets that slip too). Always stiff like a board on his side of the bed, expression crumbled with pain and peace. Sometimes he’d flinch, nightmares you never questioned him about but always noticed. Still, he’d wake up after about an hour, slip out your window, but not before giving you one last look, seeing how the moon shined down on your soft skin…
⋆˙⟡♡ Then, it was following you home after work, making sure you got home safe on those dark nights where it seemed like every shadow was following you. He’d be on the rooftops, claiming he was just curious and bored, cape flapping in the wind, when in reality he just needed to make sure you got home safely.
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t know, but he was watching you much more than you’d ever suspect. He watched your home on the nights Gotham was quiet, his body knowing you were so close but oh so far. He thought about you when he wasn’t thinking about you, thought about the routine he had found in you, the unfamiliar closeness, the comfort he had found between your body and your bed sheets.
⋆˙⟡♡ He started kissing you more, flinching less when your fingers would graze his back. He let you look at him, look deep into his eyes when he was inside you, have your hands touching his face and his back without the security of his suit to hide him. You loved when he did that, feeling him under your hands, skin to skin as it should be.
⋆˙⟡♡ He let you see his scars in the light, didn’t care when he took off his suit and your bathroom light was on, shining down on his body and the sculpted muscle of it. He had learned you wouldn’t judge him, but he was still hesitant, suffering inside when he looked down at the floor as you gazed at him in awe… you thought he was so beautiful.
⋆˙⟡♡ He would watch you when you worked, watch as your boss would storm in and demand more from you. Bruce didn’t like that, would clench his fist and grind his teeth when you’d get scolded like a child, told to work harder when all you did was work. He’d have to control himself when your boss would walk past him on his way home every night.
⋆˙⟡♡ He started conversing with you more, holding you against his chest when you two were done. He’d ask you profound questions as you two stared up at the ceiling, you’d tell him your answer. He didn’t talk a lot, just liked to listen. It would be intimate, almost romantic. He’d listen to what you’d have to say and he’d learn, learn more about who you were, where you came from, and he’d find himself not wanting to leave, a dull ache in his chest every time you’d fall asleep and he’d have to slip out your fire escape.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never admitted it to himself, but he started to look forward to seeing you, found comfort in your small bedroom and the absence of life’s problems that came with it. He started to enjoy the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry from those candles you always forgot to blow out before work. He started to pick up on your little quirks.
⋆˙⟡♡ While gradually falling in love with you, Bruce would deny, deny, deny. He acknowledged that he was starting to feel things he didn’t want to, and he’d be incredibly disturbed and moody, more than usual. Alfred would even be a little peeved with him.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would find himself asking you how work was. He would be concerned about the bags under your eyes and the wrinkles in your clothes, not outright concerned but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. He wanted to hear your voice.
⋆˙⟡♡ He would be very hesitant around you, scared he was doing too much when he’d touch you now. It wasn’t like before, when he would just grab and control. Now he was really touching you, trying to feel you, every dip and curve of your skin under his fingertips.
⋆˙⟡♡ He had gotten way too comfortable with you now, even he knew that. He relied on you and the comfort you gave, a feeling he’d been without for so long. He was like a cold soul lost in the woods, searching for something, anything, hollow, a warm body to bring him back. He found that with you, and he didn’t even realize it until he started to feel pain when he wasn’t around you, a pain in his chest like a knife was stabbing into his heart. He missed you but he didn’t want to…
⋆˙⟡♡ He stared at your face a lot, too intensely for your liking, thoughts behind those dark eyes of his he’d never tell you about if you confronted him about it. He just liked to look at you, watch you giggle and smile. He’d do it without realizing how intimidated it made you feel, how you’d have to blush and look away, pretend you didn’t notice. He just liked to look at you, soak in your expressions before he’d leave again.
⋆˙⟡♡ The signs were all there when you thought about it. The lingering touches, the admiring stares, the countless nights he’d watch over you. He felt like a creep, following you around so much, but he couldn’t help it. You were a pleasant distraction and he was a fool, easily succumbing to those feelings he had for you without even knowing it. They had been growing inside of him like a blooming vine… they started out small but grew into so much more, and he ignored it, until he just couldn’t take it anymore…
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ It was a quiet night in September, it had been raining for days and the coolness of autumn had just started to blow into the city. The trees danced with orange and red leaves, strewn all over the road and sidewalks, getting stuck under peoples rain boots and car tires. Your window was cracked, letting a cool breeze into your room that made you shiver, the savory smell of someone’s cooking wafting into your noses from the apartments across the way. You looked at your tv, black screen shut off but reflecting the blurred forms of your mingled bodies on your bed, arm outstretched on Bruce’s stomach, head lying on his chest. You could hear his heart, slow and calm just as he always was, pumping in your ear and lulling you to sleep.
You wanted to stay awake though, listening to the sounds of cars driving in rain puddles and horns honking, the occasional laughter of a passerby. A candle was lit on your dresser across the room, with the faint scent of vanilla bean and raspberry in the air just as Bruce liked. Your legs were a little sore, thighs tender from where Bruce had gripped them so hard, lips puffy from where Bruce had kissed them so much. You felt satisfied, pleasant even, comforted by his presence, the knowledge of his identity absent in your mind as you didn’t register him as a millionaire, or as a crime fighting vigilante, you never really did.
He was neither of those things to you. He was… he was Bruce, just Bruce, your Bruce. Not Bruce Wayne or Batman, and that was enough for you. You took him as he is not as he was, never questioned him about his parents or how Batman was even created. He appreciated that, didn’t like answering questions about himself he wasn’t comfortable with. He was comfortable with silence, but he didn’t mind hearing you.
He was awake too, didn’t want to fall asleep before you, something in his mind telling him he should leave already, not sink into the mattress any further and let himself relish in your warmth. He had responsibilities, duties, people he needed to save and crime he needed to stop. It was Gotham, something was always wrong and someone always needed help. But he couldn’t think about any of that stuff around you, his thoughts always either empty or crowded with your smile.
His suit was a mess on the floor, scrambled just like his mind, bat mask clear as day in his vision, lit up in a red glimmer from the light outside. It stared at him with its blank eyes, watching, the buzzing of a neon light loud in his ears. It’s like it was mocking him, patronizing him. He frowned at it, turning his head slightly away from it, like it was a reminder of what his true purpose was, where he should really be this late other than here in your arms. He knew he should go, felt his arm twitch like he was about to get up and unwind from you.
“Don’t you have somewhere you should be? Or are you gonna stay?” You mumbled sleepily, voice so quiet and sweet he almost didn’t hear it.
His eyes drifted to you, rubbing his fingertips on your rib cage and savoring the feeling of your smooth skin underneath him, against him. You were so unblemished, unlike him. A few scratches and scars here and there that held stories and memories, none like his. His were ridged and pale, covered his skin, they held memories but none of them good. Memories that served as reminders of why this was so wrong, of who he really was and who he needed to get back to once he left these four walls.
He thought about it for a minute, frowning at the ceiling fan.
Did he have somewhere to be? Yes, yes he did. He always had somewhere to be, that was the problem. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, he could be somewhere else, but he was here instead. He was here with you, here with you. He had somewhere to be, could be anywhere else, but he was here. Everyone always expected him to be where they were, expected him to save everyone. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t save everyone and he couldn’t be everywhere they wanted him to be. He was with you but he shouldn’t be. Guilt settled in his gut as he swallowed, hands itching like it was wrong to touch you.
His eyes, dark and somber like storm clouds, especially just as captivating, looked over your frazzled hair like he could see your face, knowing how exhausted you must’ve been from work and sex, how it was so late already and how you’d have to leave so early. Your breathing was slow and even, warm breath brushing over his chest from your parted pink lips, all cues of how you’ve already fallen asleep. He thought about your question, yes, yes he had somewhere he needed to be, he always did.
He didn’t bother speaking, just turned his head back and looked at the ceiling as his arm held you just a little tighter against him, hearing the splash of a car racing through water from somewhere outside.
He’ll stay for a little while.
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ When he realized he was in love with you he left, he left for a long time. He refused to let those feelings blossom into anything more, grow into something more… dangerous. Love was dangerous, he was dangerous. He isolated himself from you, in a worse mood than usual. Alfred had picked up on it, knowing there was more going on than Bruce wanted to say. You couldn’t help the disappointment as the days turned into weeks, weeks of hope being crushed on with every night he wasn’t there.
⋆˙⟡♡ He told himself it was for the best, heartbreak was something you could heal from, death was something you’d never come back from. With his life, you would die. He couldn’t lose anyone else, he couldn’t. He couldn’t subject you to that same fate his parents had.
⋆˙⟡♡ Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you when you’d walk home, still sitting outside your job, your home, watching you from a distance to make sure you’d be alright. He couldn’t sleep if he didn’t.
⋆˙⟡♡ He couldn’t sleep anyway. Eyes a dark purple and the ache in his chest getting so much worse. It was because of you he couldn’t sleep, bed empty and cold without you, mattress hard and firm unlike yours. His nightmares consisted of your death and his inability to save you. He was better off seeing nothing with his eyes open than your blood with his eyes closed.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alfred was concerned. Confronted his Master Bruce during breakfast when Bruce was silent and gloomy. Yes, Alfred knew he would confess eventually, just needed a little shove. “I can’t stop thinking about her, Alfred.”
⋆˙⟡♡ You couldn’t stop thinking about him either… work was slow and long, your thoughts muddled together as you couldn’t stop racking your brain for a reason, any reason, as to why, why he left. Did you do something wrong?
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t want to say you missed him, you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. You felt almost stupid, like he had used you and discarded you, but wasn’t that the whole point? You were a mess, confused and feeling a different kind of lonely only a sad heart could bring you. You felt abandoned.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would hide up in his room and think, read books but not pay attention to the words. Alfred would bring him his tea and advice whenever he could, but it seemed nothing could cheer him up. Bruce felt a different kind of loneliness now than he had his whole life. When his parents died they were taken away from him, he didn’t choose to give them up like he did you. He felt like he had lost yet another person.
⋆˙⟡♡ He really thought about moving on from you, a part of him arguing thats what was best for you. But the thought of fully giving you up to anybody else angered him. You weren’t his but you’d always been in some way, his. He yearned to be near you again, an itch in the back of his mind only you could scratch.
⋆˙⟡♡ He drunk, a lot. Spent his free time as Bruce Wayne drowning in whiskey and scotch, heavy liquor bottles empty and discarded on the floor. He almost felt like crying, but he’d just pass out on his bed, too drunk to crawl under the covers. Sometimes he’d pass out in the common room, leg hanging off the couch and hair unraveled, Alfred cleaning up the mess and putting a blanket over him.
⋆˙⟡♡ He drowned himself in his work to distract from you. He was frustrated, angry, weeks having gone by without you having set him on edge. He was beating petty criminals to a bloody pulp, sending them to Gordon barely conscious. He needed to take his anger out on something, anything. Alfred would just sigh when a bloody Bruce would storm past him, ensuring his suit was cleaned before the next day.
⋆˙⟡♡ It was a late Friday night when Bruce let his anger take control of him. It was some petty thief thinking he’d run off with the bags of cash he’d stolen. Bruce didn’t let him speak, anger taking over him like thick ropes of lava in his blood, anger that had festered in his black heart for weeks, simmering under his skin waiting for the moment it could boil over.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was bloody and dirty when he came to you in a blur of anger and love, adrenaline running through him with a determination boiling in his bones.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ It was a dark cloudy night when you saw Bruce standing outside your window; you lay in bed, cozy and under the covers, bathed in the dim golden light of your lamp. You were pretending to read a book you’ve meant to finish with a frown on your face, mind full of memories and the fruitless desire to have it all back. It was a melancholic pain that throbbed under your skin, sharp and persistent like a plant rash, the memory of forgotten things plaguing your mind and wishing it could just all go back to the way it was.
You almost didn’t see him if it wasn’t for the thud on your fire escape; you jumped and the book flew to the floor with a thud. Your eyes widened and you felt a wave of excitement and relief flourish through your veins as you scrambled off your bed. You couldn’t believe it, heart pounding as you rushed over to your window and swung it open like an eager baker opening an oven door. It was a big window, one with a giant view of the street below and the park across the ways, big enough to fit a grown man in a heavy suit.
Your hands were almost frantic, eyes wide in disbelief to just see him standing there in all his glory, back to you like he used to be all those weeks ago before he left, left you, left you behind. The memory of his loss and betrayal flashed back like a pull to reality, all those sad feelings you pushed away coming full frontal in your head like a tidal wave in your fragile brain.
Bruce’s heavy stare burned through you and it was like you could feel it on your skin, like a million microscopic bugs crawling all over you, your body buzzing with electricity and your hands almost shaking. You felt a flurry of difficult emotions coursing through you that all muddled together in one big mess in your head; anger and happiness, relief and irritation. You couldn’t pinpoint on one, feeling everything all at once when you opened your window and Batman was stood on the other side of you in all his threatening grandness.
You hated that he looked so good despite the grime.
You were left stunned as all you could do was stare at him. This was a moment you’ve only dreamt about, wished for for days and countless weeks, fantasized about for hours on end. How you would react, what you would say, how it would all go… and especially how he’d apologize on hand and knee for you, atone for his sins and plead for your pardon. It was all meticulously planned and carefully thought out, and now here it was, the moment you’ve been waiting for for so long; it was finally here, staring at you in the face. And it was so funny how all those ideas and all that confidence you had just seemed to vanish now that it was time to confront them; you were frozen as you stared back at him, unsure of what to do next and too tongue tied to formulate a thought. All that planning, pointless in the face of its precipitant.
Bruce stared back at you longingly and painfully, breaths hard and heavy and knuckles bruised and sore. His eyes were smeared in that black paint he always used, thick with an unspoken emotional torture, like he was being tormented in his own mind at the mere sight of you. He was in a way; you were his reminder of why he left, the catalyst of his destruction but at the same time his anecdote. It was all very confusing and contradictory; all he could understand was that it pained him to look at you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away.
Blood was splattered over his cheeks and suit, his heart pumping in his ears as he looked you over, putting all the pieces of you back in his mind; from your face, to your pink pajamas, to the black socks on your feet, then back to your cautious eyes. You were all right, you were okay and he was so relieved. He felt a weight drop from his chest, knowing you were in no certain danger but he always worried for you if he couldn’t see you, a consequence of everyone he cared for always getting hurt some way or another. Bruce felt what he could only describe as happiness, a feeling he only got with you, hit him full on like a train, smacking into his heart as his throat closed up.
He had missed you.
He had missed you a lot, more than he ever wanted to admit, but he would gladly do so for you. He had missed your pretty eyes and sweet voice, soft hands and smooth skin, and your voice, calming and rich like honeyed pastries. You were beautiful to him, so beautiful, and he couldn’t believe he had shown up here once more, that he would risk ever putting it in danger. But he had to come, he couldn’t take it anymore… and if his love for you was that perilous then his soul be damned.
He noticed the subtle way your face crumbled as your initial excitement died down, settled into pain and sadness and concern; your eyes running over the blood on him, wondering if it was his, really looking at him and realizing that he was really here, back on your fire escape. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here he was and he didn’t plan on leaving, not unless you ordered him to. You were nervous, eager to touch him, feel the suit under your palms like you used to, but you were also too stubborn to welcome him back into your home so easily, hurt once and not wanting to be hurt again. He understood that notion all too well.
Bruce felt an unfamiliar form of courage jolting through him, a type of courage so different from the one he used to fight criminals every night. This was a type of boldness that made him just want to grab your face and kiss you, hard, make up for all the lost time between you and spill all his confessions in the space between his lips and yours, make you taste the apology on his tongue. All he wanted was to be here again, here in your room; his nose was already filling up with the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry, his muscles relaxing instinctively at the sweet smell of it, knowing he was safe here. He wanted so badly to be here again, but now that he was he didn’t know what to do.
Bruce admitted that he was a little disappointed at your reaction to him, that you didn’t welcome him back in with open arms and gleeful smiles, kiss him and hug him and show him how much you missed him. But he knew that was too optimistic. He knew your antipathy was to be expected; he could only imagine the amount of hurt he’d put you through if it was anything compared to his own. He could only imagine how many nights you came home hoping he was there, waiting for you like he always did, how many days you kept looking at the clock, wishing it would hurry up and you could just go home already, how many days you hoped it would be different from the one before, how much hope he must’ve killed.
He felt horrible, regret and guilt spinning in his stomach as his muscles twitched, itching to touch you again; you were a drug coursing through his veins, and after two months of withdrawal he could say he was positively hooked once more. But, he knew he couldn’t just grab whatever part of you he liked like a greedy child in a toy store. He needed patience, he needed to wait for you to warm up to him on your own terms, no matter how long that took.
So, Bruce just stood on your fire escape with his hands holding the frame of the wall, blood and vanilla heavy on his nose as he stared at you, breathing hard but calm, waiting for you to make a move, any move or semblance of invitation.
Your eyes ran over the blood on him, the awkward silence deafening with all the unspoken words and yearning you both wanted so badly to address. Your eyes narrowed at the red spots and stripes on his suit and face, dripping off his gloves, worry shooting through your buzzing veins. You took a step back away from him in discontent, curious as to why he has suddenly appeared after so long away, eyes looking him over like the situation has really dawned on you. It had been weeks, two months even, since you’ve seen him, seen his black eyes and pointed ears, seen the vague Batman symbol on the chest piece of his suit.
Memories were coming back wave after wave at the sight of him, ones that wanted you to embrace him, ones that were gradually persuading you to give up this act and just be thankful he was here again, back to you. But you knew better than that, knew better than to just simply overlook a mistake as monumental as the one he made. You needed to have some damn pride.
Despite that…
Were you happy to see him? Yes, yes you really really were. You wanted him to just take off his mask and kiss you already, hell, you didn’t care if he left it on because you just wanted him to kiss you again. You wanted to feel his big arms around you once more and feel his warm palms on the dip in your back. Have him lift you up and smile into his kiss and say those magical words you yearned to hear. You could try to act tough all you wanted but at the end of the day you were still just a girl, a sad girl who wanted to be held by the man she missed so much… but your anger was still so present, lingering cold in your veins and greatly overpowering any positive emotions you had.
You wanted a damn good reason for why he did what he did.
“What are you doing here, Bruce? I thought you had moved on.” You licked your dry lips, crossing your arms and glaring at him with distaste and a false sense of confidence, a faux act of strength and apathy to cover up the real pain you felt. Your tone was anything but friendly, standoffish and disinterested, conveying the anger you felt almost perfectly; if it wasn’t for the waver in your voice and the glimmer in your eye you would even believe yourself.
You frowned at him, a cruel part of you hoping he was feeling any kind of hurt, any kind of hurt like the hurt you’ve felt. But at the same time, you just wanted so badly to hear that he came back for one reason and one reason alone. You. You wanted to hear him say that he missed you dearly, that he was so sorry for what he did and that he’d never do it again. If you heard that, then maybe, just maybe, you’d forgive him. No, you definitely would.
Bruce almost flinched at your tone, but knew it was well deserved. He looked at you with guilty eyes, like he’d committed the most heinous crime (which in his mind, he did), frown deep on his lips where a cut was on his skin, swallowing down the nerves in his throat at the look in your eyes.
A string of fear curled in his chest and made him nervous, made Batman nervous, a fear of being rejected, of him telling you how he really felt and you not reciprocating it. He couldn’t bear it, the uncertainty. But he was also afraid of hurting you any more than he already has, arguing with himself that he shouldn’t have come. But he was already here and he couldn’t leave now, couldn’t disappoint you any more than he already has. He looked up at you, his chest fluttering when he looked into your eyes.
“‘Could never move on from you…” Bruce grumbled in that deep voice of his, sounding pained and earnest and genuine, pulling at your heart like a trained harpist and making your eyes burn with brimming tears. He meant it, meant it more than you knew, staring at you with so much emotion in his eyes it almost scared you to see it; it was so unlike him to be so emotional, a part of you grateful that he trusted you enough to show it.
You felt a tingle on your skin when you looked back at him, a spark of joy peeking through the dark clouds around you. I could never move on from you…
Bruce’s dark eyes flickered between yours, gauging your reactions, intense and brooding as they always were. They bore into you like he was laying your soul bare in front of him, seeing deeper inside of you than you thought was possible. It made you feel flustered and agitated at being examined so fiercely. His voice, my god his voice, so soft but so gravelly, made you flustered, especially hearing it again after so many weeks of going without it. It washed over your skin like a warm blanket and made goosebumps pop up on your arms, a chill going through your spine that made your heart spike. You were trying so hard to fight it, fight that feeling inside of you that wanted him so badly.
You almost scoffed at his proclamation, looking at him offended, almost too theatrically, too rehearsed.
“Well it seems like you did, so.” You shrugged stubbornly, not knowing what else to say, really, not wanting to speak too much or else you’re afraid he’d hear the longing stutter in your voice. You shook your head incredulously and looked at the wall besides the window, where he stood outside in the cold air still. Secretly, you wanted to bring him inside already, bring him between your arms and hold him against your chest until he was one with you, unable to leave and bound to you forever, souls entwined and breaths shared. That may be a tad dramatic, but that’s what you felt; you knew he needed to cross that barrier on his own… you also knew that the moment he stepped back into your sacred space, the moment his heavy black boot stepped onto your wooden floor, you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure anymore, and you’d collapse in his arms like a dying bride.
Obviously, that couldn’t happen. You needed resistance, strength, a reason.
You couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see the tears welling in your eyes and the vulnerability staining your face. It was too embarrassing and too real; you didn’t want Bruce to see how easily you got worked up because of him. You didn’t want him to see all of you just yet, wanted him to feel guilty for what he did to you. He hadn’t even said much, just a single sentence, and you were already a desperate mess hiding under a false security. It was always so easy for him to get to you and you wished you were stronger for it.
Bruce knit his eyebrows at that, subtly shaking his head with a frown as his eyes still searched for yours. He wanted you to look at him, to see the honesty in his words and the sincerity in his blue eyes. He wanted you to see that he was hurting too, just as much as you.
“I didn’t… I just needed some time away… I needed to think.” He confessed vaguely, his voice gentle like he didn’t want to spook you, quiet but just loud enough for you to hear. Bruce always treated you like you were so fragile, a slippery glass vase between his clumsy hands. He never wanted to drop you, hurt you and watch you crumble into a million pieces… but he already did, and now he was trying to glue them all back together, put you back together, but only if you’d let him.
That was something you had come to appreciate about him; his gentleness, so opposite of the image he represented, what everyone believed him to be. He wasn’t just Batman, vengeful and harsh and dangerous. He wasn’t just bloody fists and sharp edges. He was incredibly genuine and tender, complex and multilayered; he was more than the bat, the symbol, the orphan, the millionaire. He was intricately sewn together with all different threads, and over the course of the year you and Bruce shared together you’ve managed to pluck and pull them all, see the warm center inside his cold shell.
Those were sides of him only you got to see, only you got to witness, only you got the privilege to marvel at and cherish. It might have been foolish to think, and you certainly think so now, but you had thought that made you special, that you were the only one he trusted enough, cared for enough, to show that side to… that there was more affection sizzling between you than you both wanted to say… but that just made it hurt so much more when he left, it just convinced you that you were too gullible for love, too naive to tell the difference between love and infatuation. When he left, he made you feel stupid.
You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, your face twisting into an anger Bruce didn’t want to see. Your eyes flashed to him immediately, burning and piercing and blazing, his words bouncing around in your head like a twisted game of racquetball. To think? He left, for months, because he needed to think? It sounded so phony, a simple excuse to disguise the truth, a simple excuse that only angered your unspoken pain.
“To think? To think about what? You’ve been gone for weeks, Bruce! You just left, didn’t tell me anything, didn’t tell me why, but now you’re telling me it’s because you had to think? That sounds ridiculous. I think I deserve a better explanation than, you had to think.” You mocked him, scoffing in his face. You were frustrated and lonely, wanting, deserving, a better reason to justify the pain you went through when he left. You couldn’t believe he couldn’t at least grant you that, a credible reason why.
Bruce grimaced, eyes closing like the sting of your words had just stung him. He slouched, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get the words out that he wanted to. They were stuck in his throat, itching his tongue and wanting so badly to get out, but he was mute, could only try to explain himself. Besides, there were no words to express just how sorry he was, but he knew how right you were. You were always right. You did deserve more than that, you deserved a better explanation.
Bruce swallowed down his dry throat, clenching his jaw as he looked back up at you, aching to step through the threshold of the window and grab your face between his broken hands and kiss your tears away. He felt hot coils of guilt and regret wrap around his heart and squeeze, his chest collapsing in on itself.
“I-I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth. I needed to think… and to do that I had to leave. I just needed to understand why.” He spoke raspy, voice gritted with anguish and sincerity, looking at you with such desperation it made your foot itch to step towards him, made your heart yearn to comfort him. He was downright pitiful, fingers holding onto the brick so hard it could crumble under his strength. He was slouched down, looking up at you with sunken eyes, begging and pleading without an ounce of shame.
You stared back at him, clenching your jaw so hard your teeth hurt. God, you really did just want to hold him again, kiss him again… the need was too much, burning inside you and crawling under your skin. You had your hands crossed over your chest like you were physically trying to hold yourself back, like you were trying to protect yourself against his woeful whims of persuasion.
You frowned at his statement, the rational part of your brain that was still logical and loyal to you making you want to question him more, learn more, find out more. Your shoulders slumped as you looked back at him confused, lips pulled in a frown.
“Why what? Think about what? Can you stop being so vague!” You said exasperated, wishing he would just say what he meant and stop being so damn secretive all the time. Especially now, especially here. He was the one who showed up here after all this time and now he was trying to just sneak by with it. You refused to let him, forced him to confront his own dilemma. You couldn’t see it any other way, blinded by your own rose colored rage that needed an explanation.
Bruce grit his teeth, working up the nerve to answer you as he looked down at your feet, looking physically pained. He wanted to tell you why, he wanted to tell you why so badly, but just as soon as he wanted to say it he was found at a loss for words, struck with that same fear again that made his words stutter. That same fear of being rejected, ridiculed, that fear of putting his heart on his sleeve and having you pierce it with a silver dagger. He was Batman, the shadow of shadows who dealt with worse pain than you could ever imagine. He’s been shot, stabbed, cut up, pushed out of a window, and any other horror you could ever imagine but somehow… none of that hurt would ever compare to the pain caused by your rejection.
You had the power to destroy him and you didn’t even know it. You didn’t know how much of him you carried with you, how easily you could make him fall. Against Gotham he was the Dark Knight, relentless, strong and menacing, capable of things you didn’t want to think about. Against you… he was nothing, powerless, a twig in your hand you could crush without a thought. He was weak against your beauteous thrall and he just wished he could’ve admitted that to himself so much sooner.
Bruce felt his heart constrict, his palms suddenly clammy and his throat suddenly dry; he swallowed roughly. His own heart pounded in his ears, beating under his hot skin, the reality of what he was about to say hitting him full force and he felt like he could pass out, right here on your fire escape, light headed and heavy chested.
He let out a big breath through his nose, gripping the wall between his bloody gloved hands, mustering up the confidence he needed and pushing his fear down, down and deep so it couldn’t be acknowledged anymore. He smothered his insecurities and doubts like a candle wick, clenched his jaw and cleared the smoke from his mind. Bruce looked up at you, eyes glimmering like fire light as they looked over your form once more. He looked up from your socks and your feet, up to your smooth legs and pink nightgown, up to your face, where he focused intently on your lips and nose and eyes.
You looked back at him, where he was staring at you with a type of ferocity and intensity it had your breath stuck in your throat, chills going down your spine.
“…Why I was in love with you.”
You swore your heart stopped.
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, you loved him back, and Bruce couldn’t have been happier about it. But, during the actual relationship he was very much still the same, but you could see that he was trying to be closer to you, it was just hard for him. You helped him, made him feel not so scared.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were patient with him, never judged or pushed him to do things you knew he had a hard time doing. He always wanted to talk to you about his parents but he would stop himself before he went in depth about it. That was something he needed time with, and you understood it.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was always doing small things for you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so focused on him. He would always smooth out your pillows for you, make you breakfast and be shy that he made something you didn’t like, he would even blow out your candle for you if you ever left it lit. He would give you small gifts, sometimes expensive, a bracelet or a necklace, a set of earrings his mother adored. You loved them all.
⋆˙⟡♡ You had to buy him those vanilla bean and raspberry candles you had. He set them up around his home because the smell reminded him of you and your house, his safe space.
⋆˙⟡♡ He still didn’t like to talk, but he loved to listen. He’d ask questions that were deeply intimate and personal because he wanted to know everything about you. He’d apologize for prodding but he really had no shame about it. He wanted to know you more, learn everything.
⋆˙⟡♡ He loved holding you in his sleep, you made his nightmares go away and made him feel less lonely. He would still flinch sometimes, keep his hands at appropriate distances away from your precious parts. He was a gentleman, that was for sure.
⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t sleep a lot still, so he’d always stare at you when you slept, brush his hand on your cheek when he’d leave in his Batman suit for the night. He hated leaving you, but knew he had responsibilities to his city he couldn’t abandon.
⋆˙⟡♡ He introduced you to Alfred, rather, Alfred went to clean up Bruce’s room early in the morning and found you two in a rather compromising position. He just chuckled and walked out while Bruce awkwardly scrambled to compose himself. You were mortified.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce liked to draw you a lot, most of the time from memory when he was bored on a late night, sitting on a rooftop with charcoal scratching on ripped paper. He didn’t show them to you, but you found them anyway.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce was soft, gentle with you, but sex was a different story, just depended on his day. Most of the time he was sweet, making up for leaving you and hurting you. He always carried so much guilt about it, even when you told him you were over it and understood why he did it.
⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t come out with you as a couple to the press, as Bruce Wayne. He didn’t want them to badger you and question you, make you feel uncomfortable. He came to you a lot, his house was always under constant scrutiny from the public.
⋆˙⟡♡ He threatened your boss when you refused to quit your job. It was late, he was Batman, and your boss just so happened to walk past him. Bruce threw him against the wall with promises of pain if he didn’t treat you right. You had a sneaky suspicion your boyfriend had something to do with your now positive work atmosphere and sudden raise, but decided not to question him.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was always touching you, or kissing you, hesitant to show outright affection so he was subtle when he did it. A hand on your lower back, hovering over your jacket or gently pressing into it. A hand on your arm, a peck on your forehead, a kiss to your cheek when you’d fall asleep.
⋆˙⟡♡ He told you he loved you every night, rarely ever during the day. It was in his bed or yours, when it was silent and cozy, he’d whisper it in your hair or against your skin, and you’d smile and tell him the same.
⋆˙⟡♡ You never expected anything from him besides his love, but he always felt like he owed you something, grateful that you gave him this chance to be with you despite what he did.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was constantly worried about you, on edge when you would be out by yourself or come home later than usual on the nights he couldn’t see you. He would always think the worst, think you were dead and he was too late, someone found him out and was using you to blackmail him. All the worst scenarios to prepare himself for the worst outcomes.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is constantly having negative intrusive thoughts. You’ll leave him, he doesn’t deserve you, he should’ve stayed gone. He’ll go quiet and try to isolate himself when that happens, so you always try and support him and reassure him in any way you can.
⋆˙⟡♡ He still has such a hard time being vulnerable and talking about his past, but he tries with you. He’ll get tongue tied sometimes or a sentence will drift off before he can finish it, but he’ll try.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is always so busy he forgets to eat. You’ll constantly remind him food is good for you. So, some days he’ll go eating nothing at all, despite you and Alfred’s insistence. But when he does, it’s a big feast Alfred prepares for him.
⋆˙⟡♡ He is very sweet, a complete gentleman. He has the best manners. He always says his pleases and his thank yous. He’ll follow a question with, when you have a chance, if you can. With Alfred though he’ll be so distracted he’ll just walk away. He doesn’t mean to, just makes sure he’s extra gentle with you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He likes black and white films to play in the background when he’s not doing anything. Or slow, almost gothic music to really set the tone. He’s emo like that and I just know it.
⋆˙⟡♡ He goes to Alfred a lot for relationship advice, scared he’ll mess up and you’ll leave him. He wants to avoid making mistakes with you, so he’ll ask for help or reassurance on what to do.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce has a tendency to ignore any problem until it goes away, especially to avoid a fight with you. He’s confrontational when it comes to you, so he’ll let you have your way a lot of the time. He doesn’t like to fight with you.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ Bruce was sweet and shy, always making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He never judged you when you’d tell him your stories or your past, he never accused you of things, and he never raised his voice at you when things would get frustrating. He loved you too much, appreciated you too much. You had no idea how happy you made him even if his face didn’t show it.
He was still wary, scared you’ll leave him, scared one of his enemies will find you out and take you away from him. But he was always there, watching and protecting, hiding in the shadows, being the shadow, on the nights you didn’t know. He may have been Gotham’s protector, but he was also yours.
He loved you and was grateful for you, so grateful he met you when he did and that you trusted him enough to let him see every lovely part of you. He vowed to protect you, to cherish you, and he made good on that promise. Even going as far as to blow out your candle every day before you’d leave for work. Couldn’t have you burning your house down, now could he?
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Honestly, I could go on and on about this man so I think I have to end this here. But thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed, especially @diavolosbaby who requested this. I really hope you like it, and if you’re not satisfied or I didn’t answer your ask correctly then don’t be afraid to tell me 💕💕 constructive criticism isn’t bad mmkay ☺️💕
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visionsofmagic · 10 months
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masterlist of:
⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆
↝ day 1: cillian murphy
⋆ you are playing in a movie as the enemy of cillian’s character who is protoganist. when director asks you two to act like there is a sexual tension between your characters, previous night’s memories follows into your mind. 
↝ day 2: chris evans
⋆  chris makes fun of your failed dates but when you finally find a good match as you say, events turn into something else than you plan.
↝ day 3: robert pattinson
⋆  robert and you go for the met gala and when he sees you, he just realizes you are the prettiest girl once again.
↝ day 4: christian bale
⋆ it is the third movie you and chris playing together in, and it is last time he can hide his love for you.
↝ day 5: tom hardy
↝ day 6: sebastian stan
↝ day 7: henry cavill
― explanation: so, with a motivation, coming from my own pinterest ^^, I wanted to create this one! I hope you will like it as well as I – because I love seeing you like them with likes, rbs and messages. thanks for reading! for the seven days of the week, I will publish seven works including these celebs you see below and I will add links to here or you can see them in my blog. enjoy!
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- rose 🍰
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angelst4re · 2 years
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hi beb <3 so.....lately i got obsessed with cedric diggory so i tought about if you could write about cedric x preg!reader fic where they r already out of hogwarts and they now both are in dumbledore's team ofc and they have a kiddo who is going to hogwarts in this year. so as she leaves they go home and have a really hot and spicy day.... meaning that they fuck on every possible surface. thank u if you write this i love u smmm!
hi love!! of course. i had a cedric phase once and i wrote some things for him so it was so weird doing it again... i hope you like it!! <3
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Home Alone- Cedric Diggory x Reader [IK THE GIF IS NEIL, I JUST IMAGINE HIM AS OLDER CEDRIC!]
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, i literally just wrote p0rn, the plot is in the request! :)
note: i know what you're thinking... and no i'm not adding ced to the list of people i write for, i'm sorry :( this was just a one time thing bc me and @robertpattinsonslut were talking about this and she had the idea to turn it into a fic! but you never know, one day i might! <3
“We have the place to ourselves now…” Your husband whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear, “how about we make good use of it?”
“But Ced, I have things to do and-“
“So do I,” he snickers, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, “starting with… you!”
You smile at his words, he was so cheesy. You give in and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips into his. He kisses back, tangling his hand into your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer.
“Bedroom,” you pant between kisses, “now.”
“No need, angel.” He grins against your lips as he lifts you by your thighs, pinning you against the wall as he continues to kiss down your neck, sucking harshly on the delicate skin. Your legs wrap around his waist and you begin to grind down onto his growing bulge, the friction feeling like heaven on your clothed clit. “That feel good, hm?”
“Fuck yes.” you groan in his ear.
His lips part from your skin as he pulls back to remove his shirt, keeping you against the wall. You attempt to slide your panties down under your dress, but they get stuck whilst they’re halfway down your thighs.
“Someone’s eager.” He smirks, his hands coming down to your thighs, ripping the thin lace from your body. You hear them fall to the ground with a soft thump before Cedric’s lips come back to yours, your sensitive nub now rubbing against the rough fabric of his trousers. His hand comes down to where your bodies meet and begins toying with your clit, causing your mouth to fall open, giving his tongue access.
Cedric could tell when your high was approaching, as he swiftly removed his hand from you and began working on unbuttoning his trousers. Once they fell to the floor he pulled down his boxers, freeing his hard throbbing cock. You let out a sigh when you felt it press against your inner thigh, continuing to move your hips to find any form of friction.
However, you were stopped. One of Cedric’s hands came down to your heat again, lining his cock up with your hole.
“Think you can take it?” He asks, you could hear the smirk through his voice.
“Yes.” You whined, desperately needing to feel him.
“What’s the magic word, pretty girl?” He continues to tease you, using the tip od his dick to play with your clit.
“Please, Ced. Please.” You beg rather impatiently, throwing your head back.
Without warning, he slides into you. Your walls immediately clench around him as you gasp at the wonderful sensation. You hear him suck in his breath once he was fully inside you, before he began to gently thrust his hips. Your nails dig into his back as you try to concentrate on your breathing, not wanting to cum around his cock in a matter of seconds.
His pace picks up quickly, and he quickly realises he needs to move the two of you to somewhere more comfortable, his back was beginning to ache. Before you knew it, you were on the kitchen counter.
You try to push everything out of the way carefully, trying not to smash anything, but Cedric’s thrusts were so hard and deep, you accidentally knocked a glass jar into the sink, causing it to shatter. However, in this moment you couldn’t care less.
“Harder,” you encouraged him, “fuck me harder, Ced. Please.”
And like the good husband he is, he does. Your thighs begin to tremble around his waist as he thrusts into you, brushing the special spot inside of you each time. You’re left a moaning mess under him, begging for him to not stop, begging to cum around his cock.
“I’m close….” You pant, gripping onto the counter with your hands, “Ced, baby don’t stop, don’t stop, please… I’m gonna…”
“Cum for me. Let go, you’ve been so good for me.” He says between breaths.
And you do. Your pussy starts to pulse around him as the wave of your orgasm comes crashing down onto you. Your body glistens with a thin layer of sweat as you throw your head back, letting out a sting of moans, followed by his name over and over again.
When you come back to Earth, you look up at your husband through half-lidded eyes. He smirks, telling you to prepare because he’s going to fuck your brains out.
He decides to move again, this time you were straddling his hips on the sofa, bouncing on his cock, determined to make him cum. You swirl your hips as you sit on his dick, your hands placed on his chest for support before you begin to move up and down again, slower this time, letting yourself feel every inch of him slip out before filling you up again. He lets out a groan as your walls clamp around him again and pulls you down for a kiss.
“Keep bouncing on my cock like that and I’ll give you my mouth, doll.” He whispers against your lips. This motivates you, continuing to move your hips up and down until you feel his cock twitch inside you. He was close. “Did I say stop?”
The new angle he had put you in caused him to go deeper with each move of you hips, so when he began to thrust into you too you were in total bliss, so much that you stopped all your movements, just lying against Cedric’s chest.
“Shit,” he groans, “gonna cum in your pussy, baby. Is that okay?” He asks, continuing to thrust into you.
“Yes, please cum in me Cedric… need to feel you fill me up.” You babble against his chest, your eyes falling shut as you feel him come undone inside you. He takes a deep breath as you try to move your hips again, working him through the aftershocks of his orgasm.
“Your pussy feels too good, angel.” He whispers into your hair, his hand coming down to your back to flip you over, “and tastes like heaven…”
As Cedric positions himself between your thighs, you slide away from underneath him. He gives you a confused glance as you take his hand and lead him into his office room. You sit on his chair and spread your legs as he stands and watches your hand come down to your pussy.
“C’mon, Mr Diggory. Don’t you want to eat your wife out in your office?” You give him the most devilish grin as he drops to his knees in front of you. His face inches away from your hot, dripping cunt.
He takes finger and collects some of his cum mixed with your arousal and uses it as lube to play with your clit. He rubs it from side to side to begin with, watching your face as you bite on your lower lip. He then gives it a light pinch before burying his face into you, his mouth sucking your nub between his lips. You let out a gasp as he slips a finger into your hole, followed by another, and begins to pump them in and out.
“Ced, oh my- don’t stop!”
“Why would I stop, baby? We have all the time in the world now until our babies born,” his spare hand comes up to your bump, “and even after then I’m sure we’ll find some time to have fun.”
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malexmalesstuff · 10 months
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Request list!!
- requests open!
- no limit
- main acct @kaiispost
Robert Pattinson (and his characters)
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Josh Hutcherson (and his characters)
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Manu Rios (and his characters)
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Harry Styles
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and more…🫧✨
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imagine--if · 11 months
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Headcanons for hurt reader (this could be someone attacking her on the streets but not too deep yk) and bruce comforting her… please
A/N: So this is the requested part two of this post, which was where The Riddler obsessing over you kind of got out of hand and The Batman stepped in to save the day 🙃 so here we are with Bruce! I might have to do a part three of bonding with Bruce later hehe 🖤 enjoy!!
Wordcount: 1.1K
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The enormous, gothic gates of Wayne Manor swing open steadily as one of their posh cars rolls into the driveway, driven by Alfred. Just one call from The Batman twenty minutes ago and everything was sorted, just like that. It was as if his presence allowed him to bend wills, instil fear in everyday Gotham rioters and a spark of hope in the more peaceful ones who just kept themselves to themselves and looked after their families.
What kind of effect could you call the one he was having on you?
Was it the same as his own?
"I really hope I'm not imposing," you say in a slight fluster to Alfred, who parks up the car into a long, lit-up garage. "I mean, the, um, The Batman said it was fine, but..."
"It's no imposition at all, Miss," Alfred says with a genuine, kind look, stopping the engine and getting out first to open your door for you, offering a hand to help you out. "As for Bruce Wayne, he is unused to guests, but in a circumstance like this I assume he'll be happy to oblige."
A small weight of uncertainty weighs in your chest, and you walk up the grand entrance of the Manor meekly, feeling completely out of place; you, a supposed everyday person in Gotham, suddenly called out for acts of charity and roped into a whole, terrifyingly obsessive ordeal with the Riddler, and billionaire Bruce Wayne, tucked safely and secretly away in his home as it all goes by.
He doesn't appear at first as Alfred works the advanced security indoors and leads you into a lovely, wide gothic hallway. Alfred sweeps off his coat and puts it away, and you shift awkwardly on the spot, thumbing the lightly worn material of your hoodie, your clothes damp and uncomfortable now after all you've been through wearing them. Alfred seems to notice, and he gives you a reassuring smile.
"We can send for some of your things, Miss, don't worry about that. Or you could order new things online. Orders often come within a few hours here."
Of course they do. Here, you'll be treated like royalty, and you blush just thinking about it, an overwhelmed rush of adrenaline hitting you, snaking its way through your body.
"I'll take you upstairs," Alfred continues, with a magical kind of sixth sense into your needs though you've only just met. "Then we can get you settled properly, and you can rest up. You must have been through a lot."
You shrug, raising your brow. "Yeah. It's been... yeah, a lot."
"Well, try not to worry yourself too much, Miss, especially now you're here. It's the safest place you could be in Gotham."
You nod with a small smile, following the butler as he takes you to a beautiful corridor with multiple guest rooms branching off opposite each other, leaving you to take your pick.
"I'll try not to get lost," you say, half-joking, half-serious, and Alfred nods with a knowing smile.
"Ah, yes, it does take some getting used to. There's a map of the whole Manor in the top drawer of every bedside chest in each room, which you could make use of. Feel free to wander whenever you fancy. Except for the Waynes' old wing," Alfred adds, a sad note tinging his voice, "and the basement area is restricted too. Other than that, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay, and try to relax. You're quite welcome here."
"Thanks," you say gratefully, but can't help asking once more, "Are you sure he won't mind?"
"I don't mind," a different, deeper and lower-toned voice answers you instead of Alfred, and you flinch in surprise as Bruce Wayne himself stands before you both.
You have to force yourself to stop staring at the mysterious, reclusive billionaire, the soft, smooth brown shades of his hair and deep, dark brown eyes that bleed into your gaze, effortlessly yet intensely reading you, a sombre, indifferent expression on his face. His clothes are all black, and he squints slightly in the chandelier's light hanging above you, bringing life to the stretch of the hallway.
"I don't mind at all," Bruce repeats, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm glad you're... that you can be safe, here."
"Oh," you breathe in a daze of wonder and shock, too much happening in twenty-four hours for you to keep up with. "Thank you, I... yeah, I'll be fine."
Bruce nods, and it seems like he wants to say something, but he falters, gaze dropping to the ground in his antisocial awkwardness. You wait patiently, Alfred smiling and leaving you to it quietly.
"I guess you heard about what happened," you assume, playing with your hands as you try to bring back the conversation, and Bruce's eyes flick back to yours. "With The Riddler, I mean. Do you think he'll figure out that I..."
"That you're here? Maybe. But the chances of him breaking into the Manor and taking you from this site are slim to none. Our security is of a high standard. You'll be okay here."
There's a mixture of something meaningful in Bruce's eyes that you struggle to work out. Sympathy? Concern? Care?
"It won't happen to you again," Bruce tells you, so convinced by his words that you believe them just as easily, relaxing with a light sigh through your nose. "I... I won't let it happen. I'm sorry it did."
You frown in confusion, giving him a half-smile. "It really wasn't your fault. But thank you."
"You don't need to thank me," he responds, and after a beat of comfortable silence, he speaks up again. "I'll leave you to it, then. Try to rest."
You nod in agreement. "Okay. I'll try not to get lost at the same time. Don't want to give you the fright of your life when I suddenly walk into a secret room or something."
You cringe a little at your words, levity trying to lighten the mood, but to your surprise, a flicker of something that looks like a very small, but very genuine smile graces the young man's features briefly.
"I'll show you around tomorrow, if you want," he offers. "You'll be here until The Riddler is caught and apprehended, so it's best if you stay on Wayne grounds. But there's stuff to do, I guess, and... well, there's a library..."
You smile encouragingly. "I love books. I kind of like writing them too. I journal now and then."
Bruce blinks, before that faint, sweet smile reappears, and your heart skips seeing it. "So do I."
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irrevocableloves · 7 months
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violent delights masterlist
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twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader
summary: y/n swan has lived in forks all of her life, but when she takes her summer-long vacation to california to visit her mother, she returns to a strange new family accompanying the small town.
chapter one: the city of forks welcomes you
chapter two: golden topaz
chapter three: was it really luck?
chapter four: regret
chapter five: blood type
chapter six: an old scary story
chapter seven: port angeles
last updated on: 11/14/23
IM SO SORRY I HAVENT UPDATED I PLAN ON WRITING AGAIN SOON 💔💔 (2/4/24)
taglist ₊˚⊹♡
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clarks-letterman · 1 year
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head in the stars, only night wanderers can read you | edward cullen x male!reader
~~~
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a/n — if i say this is crackfic will y'all like it-
summary — Edward hears some desperate thoughts about himself and decides to give into his nature.
warnings — 18+! smut, spit kink, blood kink, biting kink, dead dove don't eat
words — 2.6k
~~~
God, all I wanted him to do was make me his slut. His whore. His anything, so long as I became his.
Funny. The human mind created something out of nothing, astonishing to Edward as he heard them come to life with a capriciousness. Words were processed and controlled, even halfway through a sentence. Thoughts were left unaltered. He could almost hear the synapses setting themselves on fire, catching this person in a fiery embarrassment when a second thought erupted.
Fuck, I shouldn't be thinking that. Isn't he, like, a super-senior?
The voice echoed in his head, and Edward let out a low chuckle at the slip of profanity. Normally, he wouldn't have caught wind of this, as Edward had years of experience choosing what to tune out and acknowledge as nothing but someone else's business. If he so pleased, he could listen to them, but it was like standing in a stadium full of people: it was a choice to either single someone out or let it all mesh together. But the thought was so direct—so passionate—that he had no choice but to be subjected to the unspoken words.
He presented himself calmly, standing perfectly upright. There was a small quirk of his lips moving upward as he spoke, "Don't worry, it's mutual."
"What?" You asked, yet even to stand from the routine call of the bell. Edward surmised that your question was simply a way of playing dumb, as your voice unspokenly echoed something different. Stay calm, he doesn't know, does he?
"What?" You asked, yet even to stand from the routine call of the bell. Edward surmised that your question was simply a way of playing dumb, as your voice unspokenly echoed something different. Stay calm, he doesn't know, does he?
Everyone passed in droves around the two of you, paying no mind to the conversation taking place.
"I think I feel the same way," he admitted.
Really, me?
"Really? How did you know?"
He's so perfect, even here. Even now. I must have a fever—there's no way this is real.
"I figured it out a few moments ago," he bluffed, "you stare at me like you're in a trance."
Fuck. Edward didn't break eye contact with you, making the crinkle under his eyes from smiling easily visible to you. He couldn't believe he made you feel like this.
"You think you feel the same way?" This must be a joke.
"I'm just not sure," Edward paused for only a moment to search for the best way to describe his point, "if us doing anything together is a good idea."
Is he closeted?
You stood, finally getting to his level, "I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about."
You started slipping a backpack strap over your should, ready to start walking with the remaining crowd of people in the cafeteria to your next class. Unfortunately, you didn't share the class with Edward, so he would have to wait to continue this until later.
"Oh, by all odds, I would never have an issue with that. I'm referring to the fact that I might like things that you wouldn't be too keen on trying." People were freaks back then; historical recorders simply chose to omit those details. Edward was more than happy to try something taboo. "So, that's definitely not an issue."
You planned to say something else—what exactly that was, you weren't sure. Did he have a cell phone? Would he feel comfortable giving you his e-mail? What was he even trying to get with this conversation? You formulated a whole list of questions, unsure of where to start, but by the time you thought of the first one to ask, he was gone. He must have vanished into the crowd, you assumed.
Taking the long way to the class, dreading physics as it was arguably the worst subject you performed in, something came at you with a force and speed that was impossible. Well, you might have been wrong about that, but the pace at which your surroundings changed wasn't normal. That you knew. What you couldn't have known was who—or what—drug you to the bathroom faster than the speed of sound.
What the fuck was that?
Edward heard the panic in your thoughts, your blood rushing faster as the adrenaline kicked itself up, and attempted to sound reassuring, "It's just me."
"Jesus, you could have asked to meet up," you protested.
He held you close, ushering your back into the porcelain sink. The smell of your blood paled in comparison to some of the others he caught wind of, but he couldn't deny that it smelled delectable, regardless.
His words were soft, "Do you want this? I need to know before anything else."
You held a hand to his stone-like chest, staring into his dark eyes, "Yes, it's all I need."
Silently and hastily, without a single breath taken, he kissed you. He feared physical touch, running from it for decades, but in the end, it would never matter. His urges told him to kill you now, but time would kill you later. In the meager minutes away from you, he deliberated between two ideas: an intensely idiotic and risky move with a great payoff or a life of not knowing. Sometimes, hearing the things coming from other people's heads made it go to his own, and he caved. He took the risk, and let himself exist outside of hiding. He would have preferred to hold it forever, but you would have to resurface for air at some point so he pulled away.
"I do need something from you first. . ." He dragged, fearing to finish the sentence. How would you react? There was time to think about it later, near the time when he would ask for forgiveness. Maybe that would be in one hundred years or tomorrow, depending on how this moment went. And, in one swift dive, sharp teeth and cold lips met the warm skin of your neck.
He could feel you tense at the action, easing into it until you realized that he had bitten down until blood was drawn from two holes in the side of your carotid. Your mind held no words, but Edward felt something ruminating on the outer edges of your thoughts—a creeping feeling of actually enjoying it. You thought about shoving him away and running out of the bathroom, but he could catch up to you. He could kill you with nothing but his bare hands if he wanted; his speed was enough to prove it. There was a strange sensation of your blood flowing elsewhere beside your neck. You placed a hand on the cool sink behind you for support, helping him feast on you.
The thin layer punctured, blood spewed from the aorta and, with nowhere else to go, pooled in Edward's mouth. He swallowed the stream, taking strong gulps at first until he weaned himself down to small sips. He pulled away with an ichoric kiss comprised of saliva and blood to the wound, inking the area with red as if it were a craven lip stain.
"You taste perfect," he mumbled. As always, he wanted to drain you of everything you had. Your blood tasted complex, and he wanted to keep it as a thing to be served over every meal—preferably all while your heart still pumped.
A stream of red coursed out of your neck after the initial, along with a benign sting from his piercing. The lack of which acted as an etherizing pain-killer. The pain was there but only reminded you that you simply had to exist so as to be below Edward.
Skin tickling with warmth, he had never felt more dead in his life. He seemed to be reminiscing of a time long ago, eyes golden and lost.
After a moment, his eyes fell on you, and he started to feel unsettled as he set into his more human qualities. His compassion returned, tearing off his shirt and balling it up. His cold fingers brushed your neck as he placed the cloth on your cuts. "Here—for the blood."
Edward was impossibly near you, the sweet scent of lilac and honey wafting toward you now that he was shirtless. You only saw them for a moment, but his impeccable white teeth were a violent red as if he pulled a tooth out with no pain, only letting the blood pool and spill out. His chin, messy and incarnadine with your blood.
"What was all that for?" Your voice was weak and pitiful. You didn't think of anything that would suggest you were mad, solely curious.
In response, he undid the buckle of his belt and everything about his jeans. The sounds created a symphony of anticipation inside you, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing him. He didn't fully remove them, not wanting to tear his hand away from your source of bleeding, so he awkwardly shuffled his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Out sprung his cock, thick and reaching. It was the real monster here, searching for something to pierce.
You needed something else to think about for a moment, to combobulate yourself from that fact. "Does it—do I taste good?"
His thumb grazed from your jaw to your lips. "Open."
You listened, and he pursed his lips, tilting your head back with the hold on your chin and on your neck. A wad of saliva slipped past—red and glistening in the harsh lighting overhead. It landed directly in your mouth, and it tasted awful—bitter and metallic plaguing your taste buds. His saliva was worse than medical styptic. You jerked from Edward's touch and turned to the sink, ready to spit it out and rinse the horrid taste out of your mouth until Edward stopped you.
"Swallow."
Knowing what he could do, you listened to him again. His perceptive hearing picked up on your obedience as the softest swallow fell on his ears. You turned back to face him only to see a smirk on his face, "Good boy."
His hearing picked up on something else, too: the sound of where your blood gushed and circulated. Every place it reached, he knew of and was happy to know the steely rush to your crotch at his acts.
“Let’s see how good you listen,” he teased, baring his fangs in a confident simper to show the capability of his power. His hands fell on your bottoms, undoing them but going only that far. "You can touch yourself, but I want to see how long you can resist the temptation."
"Okay," you agreed, painfully disrespecting yourself by refusing the opportunity. A God stood before you, lean and chiseled, someone who exceeded more than words could describe. Even your thoughts couldn't capture it all, how perfect he looked—even bloody—and how his smooth voice cooed in your ear.
Edward, his cock still hanging out with impatience, lifted it with one hand while the other cautiously peeled the stained cloth from your skin and tossed it into the bowl of the sink behind you. The blood clotted and the stream stopped. His voice echoed a soft, "Turn around."
His hand dug between your skin and the fabric of your clothes, pushing down your bottoms. Cold fingertips circled your entrance, toying with the nerves by lightly tracing the ring of it over and over again. Edward promised himself that he would take you home and take things slower the next time. For now, he settled on using some of his spit on his dick, lathering himself in a mix of gushy blood and welled-up salivation.
His entrance was quick, just like his many other acts, but it did not go unnoticed. His size was invading, reaching and stretching into places it didn't belong. From his view, your hold looked filled by his wide girth, and he only hoped that he was long enough for it to feel good on your end.
His soft, golden eyes reflected in the mirror. He tried to gauge a reaction from you, his senses so high that he had trouble discerning your thoughts for a moment. After a few hip swings, lowering himself from the sensation of feeling slick warmth heating a fraction of him up, he could finally hear the thoughts swirling in your head.
Fuck, he feels so good! So painful. . .
He leaned into you, his gaunt chest pressing into you. He turned his head to your ear and uttered, "I want to hear it—out loud. You know what I mean."
You lulled your head back into him as he caused your whole body to shake with each thrust, "I need more of you, Edward. Fuck, I need it all."
His neck craned down, and his head followed, catching a whiff of the dried blood on your neck and placing a kiss on it, "Of course."
Deeper he went, slamming his hips further into you with a heightened desire. His full weight rested on you as a result but swiftly repositioned his hands onto the sink, covering yours. The smack of dead skin to flourishing skin echoed in the small enclosure. Edward was stiff, slipping up that he had to feign some sort of human reaction for a moment. He stopped forcing himself to breathe or blink, focused only on making your heart quicken and hearing that sweet red nectar rush through you like a high tide.
"Degrade me," you spat out. "Call me every name you got."
"You're a harlot—a whore, my slut," he growled. He sounded genuine. "Everything under the bright moon is mine, including you."
That did it for both of you. Edward kept his hips firmly pressed against your ass, the pressure causing the porcelain sink to start cracking under your hands. His cock flooded your insides with sticky white come, and you felt the crotch of your pants dampen as a mound of pressure released itself.
"Technically, you listened, but I was hoping to leave school early and head to my house."
"We can still go, if you want?" You offered while picking up the bloodied shirt from the sink and rinsing out the stains if left on the sides of the bowl.
"I think we have a project to work on—it might take a few days," he slyly suggested.
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give & take
summary: bruce wayne x female!reader learning what their partner likes during sex
word count: 832
warnings: NSFW, SMUT, mentions of fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v sex, overstimulated, praise kink, degradation kink, face fucking, i think that's it?
an: let me know what you think of this one! it's not much but i wanted to get it out of my brain :)
bruce is such a giver.
he was so touch deprived when you first starting seeing each other that he just wants to shower you in appreciation for giving this back to him.
every night before he heads out to patrol, he’d burry his face between your thighs and greedily fingerfucks you until you’re seeing stars
every time the two of you are required to go to a public event, he’d make sure to find a secluded room where he would get on his knees for you after seeing you in that dress
if your response after he asks how your day was is anything less than ‘great, love, yours?’ he’d tug you off towards his bed and spend hours kissing every single inch of your body
praising you because he knows how much you love it:
‘such a good girl’, ‘you are so gorgeous squeezing around my fingers’, ‘you are doing so good, darling’, ‘you can cum again, I know you can.’, ‘be a good girl and moan my name while I tease this perfect clit, beautiful.’
this man would worship the ground you walk on and is utterly obsessed with every part of you
there were signs of him wanting more though. the way his eyes would widen and he'd blush so cutely after you told him it was okay to be rough with you. you'd tell him every night how you want to shower him with the same affection he gives you. but he’d ignore you to burry his face into your dripping cunt again whimpering and whining about how much he loves you.
you could see him fall into the blissful high of your warm folds wrapping around his cock so perfectly and he slowly would lose his composure. fucking you as if he didn't know you, plowing into you like his access to oxygen depended on it. his rough strokes against your sensitive core seemed to speak how much he loved using you - you just needed to drag that out of him.
you waited in the batcave for him on a stormy night that you couldn’t sleep. ‘what are you doing awake, darling?’ He’d ask as he slipped his cowl off with a concerned tone to his voice. you didn't need to say anything. just walk up to him and slowly peel layer by layer of his suit off, dragging your finger tips across each muscle, bruise, fresh cut, or healed scar as you exposed his skin.
‘you could have waited in bed if you wanted me,’ reaching for you, wanting to see more of your skin than what you were offering. you’d stop his hands before they could touch you, using them as anchorage as you floated to the floor on your knees. never breaking eye contact.
he’d already be hard, even innocent touches from you were enough to spark that reaction. but there was something about seeing how well you were swallowing him down, drooling and gagging around him with no care in the world...
there was no denying that bruce craved control. that’s part of the reason he goes out, he wants to control the crime of Gotham.
but this was different. you were strong, independent, you didn’t need bruce, you had all the control in your own life. but here you were, on your knees for him. His. His beautiful and perfect equal.
you saw the shift in his eyes when he accepted how much he loved this. his fingers tangling in your hair as a low groan rumbled from his chest. ‘good fucking girl,’ his eye bored into yours, drinking up the sight of you degrading yourself for him as tears formed in the corner of your eyes. ‘you’re prettiest when you’re messy like this for me.' he's never respect you more - you had so much power but you set it aside for him. this was his bliss.
and that’s when you both found the perfect blend of kinks. he felt the whimper he fucked into your throat and saw the familiar glint in your eye as you desperately rolled your hips forward. ‘you like this, don’t you? love being my secret little cocksucker, fully knowing you’ll turn around tomorrow and command respect.’ you’d nod your head, still working your mouth feverishly around his cock.
‘i love it too, baby,’ a moan would escape him that belonged in a porno as he twitched in your throat, fucking his hips into your face. his head would fall backwards at the disgustingly lewd sounds coming from your perfect lips only making his grip on your head tighten and his pace rougher. ‘take my cock like a good slut. y’ve such a good throat for me.’
after you swallowed his sticky load, he’d all but fall to his knees in front of you and hug you close, whispering little thank yous as he kissed your hair. ‘you were right,’ he’d finally say before kissing you hungrily and starting his favorite task of forcing you to cum until you’re overstimulated.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Restraining Vengeance
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, handcuffs, teasing, topping from the bottom
Word count: 0.5k
Kinktober Day 11: Restraints
Ao3
A/N: Battinson time! I love this sad, emo version of him with all my heart. He definitely has a kinky side to him and I'm exploring it here in this kinktober fic.
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Bruce playfully tugs on the handcuffs, a low groan escaping him as you rub the tip of his cock against your entrance, "You know I can escape from these easily?"
You raise an amused eyebrow at him, taking him in, just in inch, "Yes. But I know that you won't. You said you liked the idea. Honestly Bruce, where was this side of you when we began dating?" You smirk at him, squeezing your cunt around his tip, his hips jerking upwards while you pull away, teasing him more.
"I was trying to be a gentleman." His cock twitches as you rubbed the tip in slow circles before descending downwards, squeezing him around the hilt and then dragging your hand back up painfully slowly, "Perhaps I should have been more forward." With a smirk he snaps his hips into yours, rubbing his cock against your clit, making you falter and gasp.
You try your best to get a good angle, to take him in but Bruce's hips won't stop. It gets so frustrating that you have to push them down with all your might just to get his cock lined up. You can hear him tugging on the handcuffs, metal scraping against wood, his raged breathing, the sloppy wet sounds of your wet pussy rubbing against his cock.
"It would have... speed up a few things." Like you jumping into his bed. Although getting eaten out at a gala while hiding in the closet wasn't exactly slow either. "Now hold still for a moment. Let me get it in."
You saw a smile touch the corner of his lips only for it to quickly be replaced by a breathy gasp as he was finally sheathed in your wet cunt, your walls clamping down around him, taking him in until you could comfortably sit on his legs.
Bruce doesn't keep still for a second, as soon as you take your place on top if him he starts bucking his hips into yours, his heels digging into the bed for leverage, his arms pulling with the need to embrace you, to touch you.
You see him start to move his hands around, his fingers flex downwards, "Bruce, you promised."
He groans and takes a deep breath, "I did." He stops his movements for but a moment before going in balls deep once again, his hands stopping their fidgeting. "Don't worry. I'll still make you come."
"Please." You moan as you feel him in deep, his cock scraping your inner walls, his hips slapping against yours with almost reckless abandon. "Please Bruce. Fuck me hard. I need it."
He knows you does. The way your cunt keeps trying to milk his cock is even more evidence of it. He loves seeing you let go like this, loves feeling the scratch of your nails against his abs, feeling you massage him on the way up, pressing your thumbs against his pecks and his nipples then back again.
He can't help but give you what you want, what you crave. As many orgasms as you need, every drop of his cum as he slams his cock to the hilt and empties inside of you, making it all flow out, across his thighs and balls and the sheets.
Feeling you shaking and collapsing on top of him, lazily kissing his chest as you mumble your thanks is all the drive he'll ever need to do this as many times as it takes. Even if his arms are starting to go a little numb.
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Tag List Registration
Requests are always open and well appreciated.
So, if anyone wishes to Request something for the characters and celebrities mentioned below, feel free to go.
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Daemon Targaryen
Oneshots
Realm's Desire
Honour of our House (Sequel to Realm's Desire)
The Present as It Is (Sequel to Honour of our House)
Dreams and Dragons
Dancing with Dragons
Never Yours
In The Stories
Blessings of the Goddess
In the Silence
The Dragon of North (Sequel to Never Yours)
False Accusations
For Your Sake
For Them
Without Him
Aemond Targaryen
Oneshots
Not in Our Destiny
In the Darks of Night (Sequel to Not in Our Destiny)
Rage of a Mother
The Crimson Lady
The Crimson Queen (Sequel to Crimson Lady)
Twisted Feelings
Twisted Love (Sequel to Twisted Feelings)
Beloved Sister (Platonic! Also, Aegon x Reader)
Fire of Desire
You Love Me Right?
Headcanons
Being Rhaenyra's Daughter and taking Aemond's Eye Part 2
Being Reborn in Wizarding World with Aemond
Series
The White Dragon (Also, Cregan x reader)
Cregan Stark
Series
The White Dragon (Also, Aemond x reader)
Oneshots
The Dragon of North (Sequel to Never )
Headcanons
Being Cregan Stark's Young Wife Would Include
Aegon II Targaryen (Only on Request)
Oneshots
For A Better Future
My Gorgeous Princess
Beloved Sister (Platonic! Also, Aemond x Reader)
Helaena Targaryen (Only on Request)
Oneshots
Ecliptic Wedding
Preferences
First Meeting
Being in an Arranged Marriage
Defending Your Honor
You are a Foreign Delegate
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Tony Stark
A Woman of a Kind
Steve Rogers
Thor Odinson
Loki Laufeyson
Peculiar Thing
Doctor Stephen Strange
Bucky Barnes
Broken Beings
T'Challa Udaku
Something New
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Carlisle Cullen
Marry Me
Edward Cullen
Jasper Hale
Under the Moon
Aro Volturi
Marcus Volturi
Caius Volturi
Demetri Volturi
Benjamin
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Draco Malfoy
The Kiss of the Dark
Tom Riddle
Percival Graves
Albus Dumbledore
The Fate Awaits (Sister!Reader)
Grieving the Dead (Sequel to The Fate Awaits)
Gellert Grindelwald
The Fate Awaits (Wife!Reader)
Grieving the Dead (Sequel to The Fate Awaits)
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Aleksander Morovoza
Nikolai Lantsov
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Robert Downey Jr.
Chris Evans
Is Air Conditioner Working?
Tom Hiddleston
Beautiful yet Broken Doll
Crazy Cravings
Matt Smith
Indian Dinner
Robert Pattinson
Rami Malek
Sebastian Stan
Mistakes Are Common
Tom Felton
The Harry Potter Reunion
Ram Charan
Ben Barnes
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