#part of her has just been flat out avoiding telling him; having that conversation with him because she doesn't know where it would go

[lisbonsteresa]

spiraling again

[bri-cheeses]

Fiercely and obsessively (wrapped around your finger) — Part 4

| Rosekiller Soulmate AU | Previous part is here | Word Count: 716 |

-

Evan had been acting weird. Speaking in short sentences, avoiding eye contact, and finding excuses to be busy had all cultivated into some big, terrible behavior of Evan’s that was driving Barty up a wall. It had started with Evan and Regulus’s conversation in the library, but it had gotten steadily worse ever since then. And now, two days before Evan’s birthday, Evan was fully avoiding him.

Maybe some people would call it healthy, this step back from complete codependency, but it just left Barty feeling off-kilter, like a ship without an anchor. Without Evan, things were less bright, somehow, and had turned into something lackluster and dull.

The way things had been before this past week were undoubtedly better—Evan catching his eye after a teacher had done something stupid, or them racing through the halls together, or them sitting in the common room, all tangled up in one another as usual. That was how they were supposed to be, Barty-and-Evan, not Barty and oh look at that, Evan just happened to be standing beside him. That was just wrong.

So yes, it was safe to say that this new dynamic between them absolutely sucked.

And so Barty was going to do something about it.

“Pandora!” he called, stopping the blonde-haired girl in her tracks. She tuned around, and in the dim lighting of the corridor, her eyes looked just like Evan’s—blue eyes flecked with dark spots. They were magical.

“What is it, Barty?” she asked, and while their eyes and hair were the same, their voices were complete opposites. Evan’s was flat and somewhat toneless, while Pandora always spoke with an airy lilt in her voice.

It was the harsh reality check Barty needed, because the similarities between the two had gotten him lost in his worry of Evan’s recent behavior. He shook his head and focused at the task at hand.

“Evan’s been avoiding me,” he said. He sounded kind of despondent, which was an accurate representation of how he felt about the entire situation. Pandora nodded in understanding.

“Ah, yes, I thought that might happen.”

Wait. She had expected this to happen? Surely there was some logical reason behind Evan’s actions, then, if she had predicted this.

But Pandora didn’t say anything more, instead just standing in silence and staring at Barty as if waiting for him for speak.

And so, when she didn’t offer any further explanation, Barty was forced to push on.

“Why did you expect that? And how do I get him to stop doing that?”

There was a second of silence where it seemed like Pandora was content to just say nothing, and Barty opened his mouth once more. Luckily, she started talking before he had to ask again.

“Well,” Pandora began, “I know that he’s been worried about his soulmate mark. He wouldn’t ever tell you that, but it’s true. And since there are only two days until our birthday, he’s getting more and more stressed about it.”

He needed a second to digest that.

“Okay, so…” Barty thought out loud, the pieces not making much sense at all, “he’s avoiding me because of that?”

“Pretty much,” Pandora confirmed.

And wasn’t that odd? Barty didn’t have anything to do with Evan’s soulmate mark, so why on earth was he deciding that it was a good idea to withdraw from his closest friend? It just didn’t make sense.

But he didn’t have to understand it. He just needed to know how to fix it.

“Sure,” he lied. “Makes sense. But how do I get him to stop avoiding me?”

Pandora thought on that for a moment, her long earrings swaying as she tilted her head in consideration.

“I think,” she said slowly, after a long pause, “you probably just need to confront him on it. Don’t demand answers or anything, just make it obvious that you’ve noticed and that you’re upset that he’s doing it. I’ll think he’ll come around after that.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Pandora shrugged. “Then you’ll have to wait a couple of days, until our birthday has passed.”

And then she skipped off down the rest of the hall, leaving Barty in her wake.

Two days. Two days he would end up going without Evan if he didn’t get this right.

-

(Part 5 is here)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Other Half Part Twenty Three

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: This is a long one y'all. There's more angst, BUT there's a fluffy ending, so. Ya just gotta trust me.

Length: 6K

Warnings: Angst that ends in fluff, so you're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it; canon-typical violence; a D-level DC villain that's usually more of a Superman baddie, but he's fought Batman once or twice, so.

Summary: When Michelle had announced that she would be moving to Keystone City, you’d burst into tears. Your other friends had passed it off as you being overcome by the news of your oldest and dearest friend moving, but Michelle knew you, and she knew better. It hadn’t taken her long to drag the truth out of you. 

“I never liked him.” 

Michelle’s flat insistence makes you splutter a laugh through your tears. You sniffle, raising both hands and scrubbing at your eyes, knowing that you're almost certainly ruining your makeup. You’ve tried to put on a brave face, but Michelle has known since you arrived that something was off. She’s banished everyone else from the kitchen, giving the two of you a quiet space to talk. The odd swell of laughter and conversation reaches you every few moments, reminding you that you’re having an incredibly sensitive conversation just a few feet away from people that would probably sell it to the Gotham Gazette for one corn chip. 

“Yes, you did,” You argue, raising your hand and scrubbing a tear away. 

“...I mean, a little.” Michelle rips a piece of paper towel off of the roll, passing it over. “Did he tell you why?” 

You dab at your eyes, trying to piece a reasonable explanation together—one that wouldn’t shock Michelle and expose Bruce’s secret. 

You had waited up for Bruce all night, but he’d never come back. At least, he hadn’t come back to you. You’d realized when you’d gone down for breakfast that Bruce had returned, but slept elsewhere—down in the bat cave, maybe, or in an entirely separate wing of the house? But there he was at the table, genially listening to your father discuss whether or not the Metropolis Metros had any chance of making the playoffs that year. You had gotten yourself some coffee and sat at the opposite end of the table, unable to catch Bruce’s eye. He was avoiding it; he was avoiding you. He’d kept that up as you’d seen your parents to the car, as you’d hugged your mother and dodged her attempts to discuss what had been said last night. You saw the firm handshake that Bruce had shared with your father, the strained smile that he’d managed as your father had insisted that he hoped that there weren't any hard feelings. 

The two of you had stood side by side as the car pulled out of the driveway, hands to yourselves, eyes set on the fading red tail lights until they were out of sight. 

“Can we talk about it?” You finally hedged. 

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” 

You turned to watch him stride away, stunned. It took you a moment to follow, taking the stairs two at a time to catch up. 

“I think there’s a hell of a lot to talk about!” 

“I don’t agree.” 

“Why the hell not?” 

“Because they’re right.” 

“Excuse me?”

“They’re right!” Bruce barked, whirling around to face you. You froze in place, eyes widening as his yell echoed in the foyer. “I can’t keep you safe.” 

“You have kept me safe—You do keep me safe, Bruce!” 

“If I could, you never would’ve gotten kidnapped in the first place!” 

“I got out of there because of you—” 

“You got in there because of me!” 

“There are people in this world that are just plain greedy, Bruce. There’s nothing that you can do about that, it is not your fault.” 

“It’s my fault that you of all people were taken, and as long as you and I are together, you will continue to be a target.” 

“I don’t care!” 

“I do!” 

“Oh, so you get to go out every night and put people away and get the shit kicked out of you even though you know I hate it and that’s fine, right? Bruce Wayne can make his own damn decisions and put himself in as much danger as he wants, but I get into one little situation and that’s it? You’re decided? I don’t get a say in this?”

“You get a say. You have had a say, but I am through knowing that I’m endangering your life.” 

“Well let’s think this through, then. Who else are you putting in harm’s way? Lucius, for one—” 

“That’s enough—” 

“You’re endangering Alfred. Are you telling him that you’re through putting him in danger?” 

“Do not bring Alfred into this.” 

“It’s a bullshit argument, Bruce.” 

“I’m done talking about this,” He warned coldly, turning away from you. You didn’t let him get far, keeping a pace or two behind him as he strode toward the study.

“What if I’m not?” 

“I don’t give a damn.” 

“What do you want, Bruce?” 

“I want you to leave!” 

He stopped short again, but there was no danger of you slamming into him this time. In fact, you took one step back, then another. You searched Bruce’s face desperately as your entire body felt like it was going to cave in on itself. You shook your head a little, hands flexing at your sides as you forced yourself not to reach out, not to tug him in and hold him close and beg him, plead with him to reconsider. 

“You don’t mean that,” You insisted. 

“I do.” Bruce’s gaze dropped to your shoes. 

“Look at me.” 

“I’ll have Alfred pack your things—” 

“Look me in the goddamn eye and tell me that.” 

“You can stay at the penthouse until Michelle can move you back in.” 

“Bruce, don’t do this—” 

“You can take as long as you need.” 

“You—” You reached up, grasping the lariat necklace and yanking it roughly. You felt the clasp break roughly against your skin, heard diamonds scatter as you tossed it at his feet. “You are a fucking coward.” 

You hadn’t let him see you cry, but you were sure he’d heard you. You’d hardly made it into your shared bedroom before you’d knelt down and let out a raw, sharp scream—one so long and so loud that you were hoarse when it finally broke. You had spent the day hiding out in your room, and had only managed to stop crying just long enough to fake a few smiles at Friendsgiving. 

When Michelle had announced that she would be moving to Keystone City, you’d burst into tears again. Your other friends had passed it off as you being overcome by the news of your oldest and dearest friend moving, but Michelle knew you, and she knew better. It hadn’t taken her long to drag the truth out of you. 

“We just, um…” You sniffle. “We just haven’t been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things lately.” 

“Marriage? Kids?” 

You shake your head at her plying. 

“A lot of things.” 

“...Does this have anything to do with the fact that your parents were at Thanksgiving?”

“Let’s just say their visit was less than stellar.” 

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry,” Michelle shakes her head, taking your hands in hers. You give them a gentle squeeze in turn, eyes swimming as you look down at them. She’s quiet for a few moments before she plies: 

“What are you going to do?” 

“...May as well move to Metropolis,” You admit. “Mom and dad are there, you’re leaving, and Bruce…” You clear your throat. “There’s nothing keeping me here.” 

“Will they let you transfer at work?” 

“Something tells me they’ll have the bright idea first thing Monday morning.” 

“No, he wouldn’t.” 

“He’s stubborn. Once he gets an idea into his head, he won’t shake it.” 

“You can be damn stubborn, too.” 

You nod a bit. “I can, but I’m just…” You shake your head as the tears well viciously again. “I’m so damn tired, Mish. I can’t keep fighting for him if he doesn't want me.” 

“Honey,” Michelle sighs, crowding close and drawing you into her arms. You curl your hands around her arm, keeping her close as the sobs begin to shake you again. 

-- 

“How is the weather there?” 

“We’re really resorting to speaking about the weather?” You smile. “My my, times are desperate. Did you pull the lilies up yet? Must be getting cold over there.” 

“Now who is speaking of the weather?” 

You chuckle at Alfred’s reminder, shaking your head. The two of you go quiet on your sides of the phone. You focus your gaze on your mom’s macrame plant hanger, shifting from foot to foot. You know how Alfred is (“Just fine, as always, dear.”), but you don’t dare ask how Bruce is. 

“Have you settled in?” Alfred presses before you can bring anything else up. 

“Um…” Your brow furrows. “The office is nice—bigger desks.” 

“And the apartment? The car?” 

“I’m with my parents. I don’t have a car.” 

Alfred is quiet for a few moments before he offers: “Master Wayne—” 

“I know what he did,” You cut in quickly. You'd gotten the email from the newly Wayne-owned apartment building, as well as the message to pick your new car up from the dealership when you'd arrived in Metropolis. “I don’t want anything from him.” 

Alfred sighs softly on the other end, and it makes your gut twist. You lean back against the kitchen counter, looking down at the floor. 

“...How is he?” You finally mumble. 

“He misses you.” 

“Funny way of showing it.” 

“Buying you an apartment and a car?” 

“I don’t care about things, he knows that. If he cared, he would pick up the—...Damn phone,” You trail off in a mumble as you hear yourself growing more and more frustrated. You tried calling him three times before you left Gotham, but you hadn't gotten a single response. You haven't bothered to try since.

“Anyway,” You clear your throat, “You never answered me about the lilies.” 

“I have a few weeds to pull up before I cover the beds.” 

“You should do that soon. It’s only going to get colder. Are the lights up in the city yet?” 

“They are.” 

“Must be nice. I love Gotham at Christmas.” 

“How is Metropolis?” 

“It’s nice! It’s nice. It’s fine. Pretty. Good lights. Not as good as Gotham’s, but good.”

“Are the accommodations at your parents comfortable, at least?” 

Comfortable. That isn't the word you’d use. These days, you’re sleeping on a lumpy pullout couch in a cramped living room, living out of a duffel bag. They’re meant to be spending their days comfortably, not with their heartbroken daughter sleeping in the living room and trying to put the pieces of her life together. You’re grateful to them for opening their home, and you feel so ungrateful for feeling crowded, but a week ago, this was not the life that you pictured—

You raise your hand to pinch the bridge of your nose to stem a wave of tears. 

“Mhm!” You nod, though Alfred can’t see you, hoping that the affirmative movement will bolster the firmness of your tone. “S’nice, it’s cozy.” 

“I am glad to hear it.” 

“Yeah! Yeah, thank you.” You clear your throat. “I should get going for work soon, I’ve got a meeting to prep for.” 

“Of course. I'll send the remainder of your things tomorrow."

“Sounds great. I’ll call you soon.” 

“It will be lovely to hear from you then.” 

“It’s lovely to hear from you now.” You smile bitterly. “Bye, Alfred.” 

“Goodbye.” 

You lower the phone and hang up, raising your hand to swipe at the few tears that have managed to slip. Work, you have got to get to work. Your parents' place is a quick bus and train ride to and from the office, but you’ve been getting in early to get up to speed—and with the hopes of avoiding the paparazzi. 

There aren’t nearly as many as there were when you were in Gotham, but so far, you’ve had a handful lingering around the front door when you leave. They always throw out questions—Why’d you leave Gotham? Did you and Wayne break up? Did he cheat on you? Why aren’t you living in the apartment with your name on it? Are you ever going back to Gotham? 

You hadn’t bothered to answer a single question, just kept your head down and strode toward the train station. They had the decency not to follow you on, or back to the apartment. When you arrive this morning, there isn’t anyone with a camera outside the building. You give the receptionist a friendly smile before you head to the elevator, pressing the up button with a knuckle to keep from dropping your phone or spilling your coffee. 

The office is quiet when you step inside. You can see a couple of other people there, but they don’t acknowledge you as you settle in. You open your laptop, humming to yourself as the laptop begins to boot up. You heard a few carolers performing Silver Bells on your way to the office, and it is stuck in your head now. You rest your chin on your hand, trying to picture what the grounds’ gardens must look like all covered over. You can picture Alfred crouching down, covering the raised beds with chicken wire, with Bruce pulling it taut from the other end—

You shift in your seat, trying to push the thought of Bruce away.

He’d be bundled up, too, maybe using the spare pair of gloves that you bought for Alfred—

Ugh, stop it! Stop, just banish him from your mind. That’s probably impossible, sure, but you can pretend, right? You click on the internet app, and freeze when you see the loaded article on the homepage: Bruce helping a model out of a car. You recognize her. You're sure that you’ve seen her at a couple of Liz’s parties. You can’t quite remember her name, though…Your eyes stray to the description before you force them away again, pulling up your email and biting the inside of your cheek to keep from letting tears fall. It feels like all you can do these days is cry, no matter what you do. You know that getting over Bruce is going to be slow-going.

Your hand strays to your neck, where the lariat necklace used to sit…No. Nope, letting it go. Taking out your headphones, putting on your favorite angsty playlist and letting it go. 

--  

“How was your day, honey?” 

You poke through your container of leftovers as you lean against the kitchen counter. You give your mom’s question a placid smile, and don’t bother to say a word. You know that an admonishment isn’t far behind. 

“Oh, don’t stand and eat,” She tuts just a moment later when she spots you. 

“I’m fine standing, mom. I've been sitting all day.” 

“Your day, honey.” 

“It was okay. We got the invite for the Christmas party, it’s next week.” 

“Everyone was nice?” 

“It’s an office job, not my first day of kindergarten.” 

“Well,” She sniffs, “Forgive me for asking a question.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Everyone's pretty nice, yeah, but...I don't know. We reviewed this application for a toy maker who wanted to set up a workshop for the holidays, but the board wound up turning it down. I thought it seemed like a good cause,” 

“Oh really, that’s nice.” 

Nice. She isn’t listening—but you push on anyway: 

“It’s a bummer, you know, this Schott Jr. guy’s application was kinda…Sad. It was a little childish, though. I think the writing on the grant really messed up his chances.” 

“You can tell me about it later, hon. I have my quilting group tonight.” 

God, your mother has more of a life than you do these days. “Well, have fun. Where’s dad?” 

“Late shift.”

“Out on Neville Island? Jeez, how late are they gonna keep him?” 

“Your father is a big boy.” 

“I know, just…” 

Your mom casts you an almost pitying look. “This isn’t Gotham, sweetie. He’ll be fine.” 

You nod a little, peering down into your remaining leftovers. 

“Have fun at quilt club,” You add as your mom heads for the door. 

“Sure! We’ll keep it down when we come in!” 

“Yeah, I know you all get really wild while quilting.” 

“Oh, and honey?” 

“Mm?” 

“Try not to spend the night sulking. Maybe…I don’t know, go to a bar, pick someone up—” 

You choke roughly as you accidentally inhale the bite of food. You regain your breath, throat throbbing as you gasp, “Mom!” 

“The only way to get over someone is to get under someone! Okay, I’m going, I’m going,” She insists, holding her hands up in mock-surrender as she edges for the door, taking up her quilting tote bag. You scoff, turning and practically flinging the remainder of the leftovers into the trash as you hear her footsteps retreat down the hall.  

“Only way to get over someone is to get under someone,” You mumble, “Fucking…Unreal.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing toward the trash can. Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown out those leftovers. You’re still hungry. Maybe you ought to get yourself out of the apartment, grab some food. Or...You reach into your pocket, drawing out your phone. You don’t call Alfred again—instead, you dial Michelle’s number and walk over to the couch, plopping onto it. You wince a little, glancing down at the cushions. You really should be more gentle with it, you are sleeping on it all the time.

You set the sound to speaker as you wait. It rings…And rings…And—

“You better not be calling to tell me that you’re back with that jerk.”

You can’t help but smile at Michelle’s candor. 

“I haven’t even heard from…Him.” 

“That jerk. Call him a jerk.” 

“Mish, please.” 

“Well, he is. But I guess I’ve said it enough for both of us.” 

“How’s Keystone City?” 

“Honey, I have never seen so much corn in all my damn life.” 

“Is it doing the men out there any good?” 

“It would have to be super corn if it did.” 

“How’s the apartment?” 

“Oh my god, it's fucking huge. Half the price we were paying in Gotham for double the size. You should move down here. With our joint funds, we’d be able to build our own mansion.” 

“Mm, I don’t think I could move down just yet. I’ve only been at the Foundation for three months, and just moved to this location a week ago. If I up and left now, I’d lose my job in minutes.” 

“We could find you one down here.” 

“Is it very busy down there?” 

“No. But maybe you could do with slowing down a bit.” 

“Maybe. Hey, have you gotten your tree yet?” 

“Have you?” 

“The couch folds out right where it would go. Mom’s thinking of getting a small one that she can put on the kitchen counter.” 

“She wouldn’t.”

“...I think it’s guilt,” You admit. “She’s why I’m here, anyway.”

“Ugh, you’ve hit the point of blaming your mother. Finally—took you long enough.” 

“Well,” You grumble, “She wasn’t thinking, but her not thinking kinda got me on her couch. You know what she told me before going quilting?” 

“What?” 

“That I should go pick up a stranger.” 

“What?” Michelle screeches, and you wince, turning your head away from the phone. “Oh, my god! Are you mortified? I would die, oh my god!”

You giggle, a lightness taking over you for the first time in several days. 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, the sexual tension between me and the electrical sockets are slowly creeping up. I’ve gotta find my own place.” 

“If you need a reference—”

“I’ll call you—” 

“I will lie through my teeth.”

“You’re a dear.”

“...Have you spoken to him?” 

No. “No.” 

“Have you blocked him?” 

No. “Yes.” 

“Do you miss him?” 

Terribly. “Maybe.” 

“...Okay, here me out—” 

“Oh, no, Mish—” 

“I’m just saying, maybe your mom is on to something. Not like that, but—have you taken a moment for yourself since you got to Metropolis?” 

You think for a few moments, shifting back on the couch. 

“...No, I’m just working,” You admit softly. “I feel like if I let myself do anything but work, I’ll just…I’ll fall apart.” Your words quiver as you say it.

“I’m not saying don’t think about it,” She reassures. “I mean…It was almost a year with him, you know? Just…Don’t let that be the only thing that you think about.”

You sink back into your seat, lips pursing as your eyes begin to wet. 

“I don’t,” You protest weakly. Michelle sighs on the other end, and you know that you haven’t fooled her for a moment. You shake your head, resolved to push the conversation in another direction: 

“Are you going to paint any rooms in your apartment?” 

“...I got a few paint samples.” You can hear how reluctant Michelle is to move on, but feel a swell of gratefulness when she does. “Mostly blues and greens. I’m thinking of some kind of turquoise for the kitchen.”

“Some kind of turquoise? Isn’t there only one kind of turquoise?”

“You know, I used to think that, but the paint section of the store proved me very, very wrong.” 

-- 

You tuck yourself in early, knowing that you won’t be asleep by the time your parents get in. Still, you’d rather fake it than have them ask you if you had a nice night in. Worse, your mother could ask if you’d gone out and gotten under someone, as it were. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to focus on taking slow, even breaths. 

You can’t help that Bruce creeps up in your mind. 

What’s he doing right now? Is he creeping through some alley? Swooping down on a wrongdoer? Conferring with Gordon? 

Elspeth Emerson, that’s that model’s name. She’d hardly spoken a word to you the couple of times that you had met her. Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember what her voice sounded like. 

Can you even remember what Bruce’s voice sounded like?

“I want you to leave!” 

You wince at the thought, and you roll onto your side, as if you can pull away from the memory. Yes, you remember what Bruce’s voice sounds like. How long will it take until you forget? You peer through the curtains, chest muddling with pangs of regret and sadness as your mind begins to race—to wonder if things would be different if you’d just fought a little harder—

But how many times can you give your love to a man that’s trying to push you away? A man who only took a few days to get over you—or at least to go out and make it seem like he’s moving on? 

He must have known that you wouldn’t use that apartment, or that car. He must have just wanted to seem like the bigger person, as if he wasn't the one that had sent you packing. You huff softly, raising your hand to swipe your tears away as they begin to leak. It’s no use; a few slip. It’s only a moment before the trickle turns into a stream, dampening the pillow beneath your head.

-- 

You fall into a rhythm. It isn’t a rut—it is decidedly not a rut. You manage to get up and out of the apartment before your parents are awake in the morning. The paparazzi stop lingering around the office, because your existence ceases to be news. You stop flinching at the mention of Bruce’s name; you stop hearing his voice as you try to fall asleep. The ache of missing him doesn’t disappear, but it lessens, some. You don’t take your mom’s recommendation of getting over Bruce by getting under someone else. You consider it, sure. You download a couple of dating apps, but you never actually make a profile. There’s just nothing about it that feels right. 

You speak with Alfred almost daily—usually on the phone, if not over text. You don’t ask about how Bruce is doing, and he doesn’t tell you. 

That doesn’t stop you wondering. 

-- 

“What the hell is that?” 

“Did you see it?” 

“It’s so cute!” 

“Do you think it’s some kind of office Christmas gift or something? A little teaser before the holiday party later?”

“You hear Wayne’s gonna be in attendance? Someone said they thought the saw him in the elevator. Do you think it’s because of…You know—” 

“Who cares—Hey, does that thing move or is it just a decoration?” 

Your coworker’s chatter draws your focus, and you turn away from your laptop. You can see people crowding around something by the elevators. You stand, joining them and peering around them to try and get a look at what they’re talking about. You can just catch a glimpse of a brightly colored, 5-foot tall nutcracker. Your brow furrows as you take in the fuzzy beard, the crisp blue paint of the nutcracker’s coat, the bright gold buttons, and the rifle tucked at its side. You nod at the painted script on one of the boots. 

“What’s that say?” 

“Schott and Son.” One of your coworkers steps forward, stepping around it and eyeing the back. “There’s a button back here!” 

Schott and Son. God, why does that sound familiar? 

“Press it!” Someone else urges. You hear the gears crank and whir, quickly covered by a music box rendition of the Nutcracker Suite. You smile a little, as the Nutcracker’s arms move as if marching. You all startle, then laugh as it steps forward and does a short bow. It reaches around itself, and your stomach churns as it grasps the butt of its rifle. You take a step back, warning, 

“Uh, guys—” 

“Lighten up,” Someone scoffs, “It’s just a toy.” 

Their insistence is stifled by a gunshot, leaving the tip of the rifle smoking. You hear two panicked huffs before someone screams. You whirl around to see blood pouring from your coworker’s shoulder. Their scream is chased by others as the Nutcracker ventures deeper into the office, firing again. You scramble away as the others do, running for whatever cover you can find. You stumble as someone gives you a shove, practically climbing over you to get out of the way. You crawl along the floor, getting beneath a desk and tugging a chair in. You fold yourself in as tight as you can, clasping your hands together and fighting to keep your breathing and quiet as you peer out, watching people scramble to get out of the way of the Nutcracker. 

Fuck, you left your phone on your desk, so you can’t call 911—Surely someone has, right? Someone’s heard the commotion from another floor, or an alarm has gone off, something— 

You hear a horrifying thud, chased by a few more gunshots. You wince with the furious bashing sounds, raising your hands to press over your ears. You focus on your own pounding heart, your rapid breathing—

The feeling of the chair shifting beside you makes you scream and open your eyes. 

The sight of Bruce crouching beside your desk makes you crumble. 

-- 

“...It’s nice.” 

It’s a feeble attempt at a compliment and a conversation starter. It’s also an insane understatement. It seems that Bruce didn’t only buy you this apartment—he’d had it furnished, and filled the fridge and cabinets with groceries, spices, all of your favorite goodies. You look from the fully stocked bar cart by the kitchen over to the living room, where Bruce is hurriedly closing the curtains over the lowered shades. 

Maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise that the apartment he chose is so big. 

Just being the bigger person, You remind yourself, He doesn’t want to be the bad guy. 

Bruce finally turns to look at you. You see his lips twitch with something unspoken before he purses them and swallows thickly. He looks so wan—pallid, and tired. He’d looked it when he’d found you beneath that desk, after apparently smashing the shit out of that Nutcracker with a printer. The ride to this apartment (in the car that he had bought for you and had driven to the office) hadn’t made it any better. Neither of you had spoken. 

“You never, um…” You clear your throat. “What are you doing in Metropolis?"

“It was requested that I make an appearance at the holiday party.”

Your gaze narrows slightly. You smell bullshit...But you're not really in the mood to litigate it right now.

“Right.” 

You turn away, finally, shrugging off your coat and tossing it over the back of a chair as you head for the bar cart. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, Mr. Wayne. Great, even.” You take up a clean glass, setting it windowsill beside the car before you reach for the bottle of whiskey. “You want some?” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“More for me, then.” 

“Are you sure you wanna do that right now?” 

“I can’t think of a better time.” 

You reach for the seal, struggling to twist it off before you fling it away. You grasp the bottle firmly, trying to ignore your shaking hands as you lift it and the glass. You can’t steady them no matter how hard you try, but you pour anyway, some of the liquid sloshing over the sides and onto your fingers—

You go still as Bruce crowds up close to you, grasping your hands and forcing them down. The glass connects with the windowsill with a sharp, shrill sound; you wouldn’t be surprised if it was chipped, if not cracked. You squeeze your eyes closed as you just feel him—the heat and strength of him up against your back; the gentle press of his face against your hair, and the sound of him drawing in a deep breath; the warmth of his hands, steady over yours. Your lower lip begins to wobble as Bruce intertwines your fingers, using his grasp on your hands to curl your arms around yourself. 

“Good thing I wasn’t in Gotham,” You quip dryly, forcing your stern tone over the your rapidly fracturing resolve, “Or today could’ve been a real disaster.” 

You shake Bruce off, stepping out of his arms and snatching your glass from the sill, striding more deeply into the living room. You hear Bruce sigh behind you before he hedges: 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“An apology would be nice.” 

“You want me to apologize for wanting you safe?” 

“Was I safe today?” You snap, whirling to face him again. “Was that—Killer nutcracker something I was safe from? You can’t anticipate every moment of my life, Bruce. No matter where I go, I could be in danger. What, do you want me confined to a room somewhere and permanently out of harm’s way? What if someone breaks into that room?”

You search his face, desperate for some kind of recognition, some kind of understanding. Bruce shakes his head, his gaze dropping shamefully to his shoes. You lower yourself into an armchair, peering down at the amber liquid, watching it shift with your still-shaking hands. You hear Bruce cross the room before his shoes come into view. He grasps the wooden coffee table, tugging it closer and sitting on the edge of it. 

“I just don’t…I don’t like the idea that someone could come after you again, with the purpose of getting to me, or getting something from me,” He admits softly. “I can’t be the reason that I lose someone I love. I can’t do that again.” 

You lift your head as Bruce’s voice breaks, heart stuttering as you see his eyes well with tears. You set the drink aside, taking his hands in yours. 

“I know that it scares you. It scares me, too. But Bruce, you cannot protect me from everything. But you do—” Your voice breaks as your face twists with upset, “You do protect me, from so much. You protected me after the kidnapping, you protected me today. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would’ve happened…’Sides between this and the attempted robbery at the store, I think I’ve proven that I can get into plenty of trouble all by myself.” 

Bruce huffs a shaky laugh through his nose as he nods. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles. 

“I’ve missed you so goddamn much,” He murmurs. 

“I’ve missed you, too.” 

“I want…” He winces at the phrasing, and seems to reconsider. “I mean…Would you consider coming home?” 

Home. Your chest aches with it—with the thought of the mansion, and Alfred, and the covered garden beds. 

“Bruce…I love you so much. I want us to have a life together, but…” You shake your head, steeling yourself as his face falls, “But I can’t keep having this argument. I can’t be pushed away from you over and over again and keep wanting to come back. This nearly broke me—No, Bruce,” You chase his gaze as he averts his, holding his eye as your tone grows more firm. “I understand that you want me in one piece, I get it. But how the fuck do you think I feel, night after night, knowing that every time you leave may be the last time I see you?...If I come back,” You hedge carefully, “This is…It. If we implode, or you change your mind and throw me out again, we’re through, I mean really through—” 

“That will never happen again.” 

“But—”

“You have my word.” He says it firmly, holding your eye as you held his. “I…I acted like an asshole. I didn’t want you to leave, but I thought it would be better for you.” 

“Nothing about this has been better for me.” 

“I know, I see that now. I’m sorry.” 

You nod a little, looking down at your hands. 

“...You just want me back in Gotham so you can keep a closer eye on me.” 

Bruce chuckles softly, raising a hand to cup your cheek. 

“I want you back in Gotham because nothing has been right since you left.” 

You tip your face into his hand, letting your eyes slide closed and allowing your tears to fall as you accept the gentle touch. Bruce shushes you softly, smoothing your tears away and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Tell you what,” He murmurs. “Why don’t you call your parents, let them know you’re alright and you’re spending the night here before we go back. I’ll figure out getting your things back in a couple of days.” 

“They’re not gonna like that…And the Foundation’s going to be pissed.” 

“S’okay. I think they’ll understand you transferring back after what happened in the office. They've cancelled the holiday party to secure the building, make sure that thing didn't have any extra surprises hiding anywhere.” 

“Speaking of which,” You lean back, scrubbing your eyes. “There’s someone you should look into.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The uh…The Nutcracker, it had a name on it—” 

“Schott and Son.” 

“Right. Winslow Schott Jr. put in an application for funding from the Foundation, but it was denied.” 

Bruce’s frown deepens. “When did this happen?” 

“Uh—Two weeks ago, maybe? He left a few angry calls and emails, but then he dropped off, so we figured he’d given up.” 

“Did he have a company he applied through, or was it just him?” 

“Umm…” Your brow furrows as you try to remember. “It was…The Toymaker, or…The Toyman, something like that.” 

Bruce hums, nodding. “I’ll have Fox pull the file, see what we can find.” 

“Okay.” 

You stand and step away, and only make it a couple of steps before you hear Bruce stand. He catches hold of your hand, folding you into his arms. You go willingly, pressing your face into his neck and drawing in a deep breath as you cuddle close. 

"Bruce?"

"Mm."

"Why are you really in Metropolis? I know you, you hate these parties."

Bruce's thumb sweeps along your lower back as he peers gently at you.

"I needed to see you," He admits softly. "It was just supposed to be for a minute...But I was headed to your floor, and I heard the shots, and..." His face goes tight, his jaw tensing. "I couldn't stop myself."

"I'm glad you didn't," You give him a small, reassuring smile. "But I'm a little biased." You reach up, gently sweeping your fingers across his stubbled cheek.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” You accuse. 

“Told you,” He mumbles, “Nothing’s felt right since I lost you.” 

You tip your chin, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Then it looks like you found me just in time."

Next Part

[im-a-writer--im-in-distress]

Rules (#1 & #3)

Insert with: Ruhn Danaan

Reader: Female (she/her)

Rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Words: A lot. (3500+)

About: Ruhn’s girlfriend has been faking orgasms…

Warning(s): SMUT (MINORS DNI); explicit sex discussion, oral (f-receiving), talk to your partners, peeps!

A/N: Day Three of Ruhn Week 2024! The prompt is "Chapter 3". @ruhnweek New stories all week! I recently stumbled onto this side of Reddit and decided to give them some love.

Well, there’s no way he was going in there now. Ruhn had just returned from his evening run, looking forward to a relaxing night with you. But when he’d arrived, he immediately heard your upset voice and Bryce in there with you. Her words had stopped him from bolting in there:

“Why would you keep that from him? Ruhn would want to know.”

And your response. "You can’t tell him, okay? He’ll think it’s his fault."

Ruhn pressed himself flat against the wall so that he could hear you clearly, the only two voices in the apartment.

“The last thing I want to think about is my brother in bed,” Bryce shivered at the ick of this conversation. “But if he’s doing a shitty job at sex, it is his fault.”

His brain short-circuited.

“He’s wonderful,” you said, emotions thick in your voice like you were close to crying. “He’s amazing. I don’t deserve him—”

“And yet you’re the one faking orgasms.”

The words slammed into Ruhn’s gut as his brain failed to catch up. Echoes of your sounds came back to him, part of him now trying to pick out which ones were real and which were fake. How long had you been faking it? Recently? Always?

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and if the door hadn’t burst open at that exact second, he would’ve landed on the floor. Instead, as it happened, he was launched from his hiding place as Flynn and Dec burst into the house hauling a keg.

“We’re here for the party,” they chanted, and a small wave of people came in behind them.

“Get out. I canceled that,” Bryce barked, getting up from the couch. Leaving you sitting alone on it with your eyes pinned to the floor.

His first instinct was to confront you, to demand an explanation. But another part of him hesitated. Did he even want to hear any more? He felt a lump forming in his throat, a wave of self-doubt crashing over him. A bunch of other emotions filled the gaps. Why would you do that? As you continued to avoid his gaze yet kept trying to make yourself smaller under the weight of it, a thread of anger sewed into his skin.

Music kicked on and, despite Bryce’s best attempts, the party was on. With a loud sigh, Bryce crossed towards Aurora and yanked her to her feet. Pulling her with her, the annoyed redhead snatched her brother’s wrist in the other hand and pushed them both towards the bedroom. "And you two," she said, "are going to sort this out."

Bryce locked the door behind them. Ruhn grasped the rattly doorknob, and Bryce punched the door on the other side in protest. She shouted through the door. “Stay in there until you two have fixed this. Fucking cowards.”

Even though Bryce had stomped away and therefore they could escape, Ruhn remained frozen with his hand on the doorknob. The weight of Bryce's disappointment pressed down on him. She was right. He was avoiding a conversation that needed to happen. What the hell could he say, though?

"I'm sorry you overheard that."

Ruhn's heart twisted at Aurora's words. He couldn't help but feel betrayed. Why would she keep something like this from him? The self-doubt gnawing at him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Why?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Your voice was barely a whisper. "Because… I didn’t want you to know."

Confusion struck him, and he turned around, long hair spreading like a shadow between them. He tried to wrap his mind around your confession, but the pieces just didn't fit together. How could you fake something so intimate? And now you act like this?

“You think I didn’t have a right to know?” Another thought struck him. “Or could I just not do it for you?”

“No, it’s not like that,” you started.

“No? You thought you’d just what? Make fun of me?”

“No.”

“Then what?” He couldn’t help it. The anger inside was growing and it seeped into his words. “You stayed with me because you wanted to be the Autumn Queen?”

“Ruhn—”

“Wow, Y/N. Wow. Well done. You had me completely going. I totally fell for it.”

He turned away. She grabbed his hand, but he shoved her off. “Back off, Y/N.”

That did it. Now she was mad. “Oh, fine. Just stomp off like a child. Don’t even try to talk to me.”

“Like you did?” he snapped, whirling on her.

Something crossed over her eyes, and the anger cut in half. “I should’ve told you the truth. Bryce helped me see that.”

“Bryce,” Ruhn scoffed. If you couldn’t even come to him with a problem, what the hell were you two even doing? “How long?”

You furrowed your brows.

“We’ve been together nine months. We’ve been sleeping together for six. How long have you been faking it?”

“I never faked our relationship.”

“Just our sex life.”

“No,” you said. “Just my orgasms. Everything else is real.”

“That’s kind of a big part of it,” he said, anger still laced tight in his skin.

“I don’t think so.”

Ruhn looked wide-eyed at you, the hurt cutting deep. “Right. Got it.”

He grabbed the doorknob again, cracking it sideways to break the lock.

“I can’t orgasm.”

Ruhn stood there for a minute, unable to process the statement. It was an odd way to phrase it. Finally, he glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

There were tears in her eyes, and Ruhn’s heart twisted. He immediately regretted looking back at her. He was almost out, almost free of potentially the most toxic relationship he’d ever been in. And then he saw her cry.

“I faked them because I can’t. I’ve never been able to. Not with you, not with anybody.” She drew in a fractured breath. “But I knew if I told you, you’d think it was your fault. That you weren’t good enough, or some ridiculousness like that.”

She took a step towards him, then lost her nerve and stopped. “I faked the orgasms so that you knew how I truly felt about us.”

“That you didn’t trust me,” Ruhn supplied. “Good to know.”

“No,” she said, a new wave of bravery locking her Y/E/C eyes into his. “You are perfect, Ruhn Danaan. You are everything I could ever want. You are kind and generous, with your love and with your time. You make me feel beautiful. And treasured. And I am so sorry that all of this has made you feel less than that, because that was never my intention. I was trying to spare your feelings, not hurt them.”

Anger seeped out of him like sand from a broken hourglass. But the hurt ran deep.

“You could have told me I don’t satisfy you.”

“But you do, you dumb, dumb male!” She cried, fisting her hair. “That’s the point. You satisfy me in every way that matters. Who cares if I can’t orgasm? I don’t. I have you. I am filled to the brim with you, and that’s all I need.”

You said you didn’t care, but you did. He could tell.

Ruhn sighed, a deeper emotion crawling up to the surface. "What bothers me is that you didn't even give us a chance to work together to fix it. You could have trusted me, Y/N. You could have told me."

Your heart clenched as his words hit you like a dagger to the chest. You could see the hurt and confusion etched on his face, and it tore at your soul.

"You’re right. I'm sorry," you whispered. "I should have told you.”

With his anger gone, Ruhn didn’t know where to go from here. You kept your gaze and your hands to yourself, like you expected him to walk off. He still wasn’t sure he wouldn’t.

But as the air hung between you like a chasm, he felt the need to at least clear the air. “Tell me now.”

Your eyes shot up to him in surprise, and then a blush broke out across your cheeks. You wrung your hands.

Ruhn reached over and took your hands, guiding you both to sit down on the end of the bed. You were stiff and so was he, but you deserved at least a chance to make this right. Especially after he’d reacted so poorly.

But after a long, awkward moment, the only thing you said was “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Well,” Ruhn swallowed, “tell me what you do like. What works when you touch yourself?”

You glanced up at him shyly before lowering your head. You’d retracted your hands from him when you sat down, and you were back to wringing them. “Um, not much. I mean, I have toys, but all they’re good for is overstimulating me.”

“Am I too rough with you? Is that why you aren’t finishing?

You met his eyes, this time shyness gone. It takes his breath away. Then, you sighed, muttering, “You’re still not understanding.”

“Then, tell me.”

At first, he wasn't sure you would. “It’s not that I don’t finish. It has nothing to do with you. It’s that I never have. I guess, there’s a population of us that have weak muscles down there. We get overstimulated way before we release.” You shifted on the bed, subconsciously putting distance between him and you. “It’s just something that happens. It has nothing to do with you.”

You said it twice, and you believed it. But he didn’t.

Another thought struck him, though. How often had he come undone in your hands, under your mouth? He had commented more than once on how talented you were in bed. Was that you overcompensating for what you clearly saw as a shortcoming? He tried not to think about the other males you had practiced on.

Which only left room for a wave of guilt to crash on him. You drew his release out of him like no one else ever had. Your touch riled him up like electricity on his skin, your kiss fire in his veins. He’d always been a sexual male, and she had never disappointed. But how cruel he had been, unraveling when she couldn’t.

“Don’t do that,” you snapped, poking him in the chest. “Don’t you feel guilty.”

You had moved closer, your E/C eyes piercing into his soul. You were so close he could feel your breath on his skin, and his body reacted accordingly. He tried to shove it down.

“Watching you…” You let out a loaded breath. “Watching you is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Fuck. Now was not the time to get turned on by her.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I want to satisfy you.”

“You do,” you said, your hand tracing up to his jaw. He swallowed.

But the insecurity was there under his skin, too. “No, I don’t. If you’re faking it, I don’t.”

“I told you already.” Your other hand tracked his tattoos and electricity lit up the nerves. “I only faked the end. Nothing else. Everything else is real. More so than it ever has been.”

Your eyes twinkled. “Before you, I didn’t even understand why it was fun. Sex. It was nothing to me.”

He pulled her arm down. “I shouldn’t touch you if it doesn’t feel good.”

“You taught me what it’s supposed to feel like. You taught me what it was to make love.” You cupped his face in both your hands. "With you, it's magic."

There were no words he could say to that. None that got even close to the feeling you had given him. All he had was a new resolve.

He swallowed, preparing for his own question. "What did previous males do to you?"

You pulled away in surprise, then eyed him. "You don't want to hear about that."

You were right. He didn’t, but… "If it helps you get off, I want to know."

He saw the arousal flash across your eyes, and it was nearly the end of him. But this was more important.

“Don’t bother. You’re better.”

He couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his lips. “Alright, what do you like that I do?”

You smiled under the question, looking away. Then, you said, mood dipped, “I won’t ‘get off’. You shouldn’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

"You want it."

"But I shouldn't!" You cried, the sudden change rippling through the air. "You do satisfy me. You treat me well, you’re gentle, you’re being so sweet about this! How terrible am I to want more?"

Ruhn pulled your hands from your face. "You are a grown, powerful, sexual female. Of course, you want it. You SHOULD want it." You looked like you were about to cry. Like, you were about to break in his arms. "You say you can't orgasm. I say, you can learn. I'm going to help you."

“Ruhn—"

“We're gonna work on it. Because you deserve it. But—" he leveled his eyes with hers as his hand guided up her chin. "—no more faking. Every move you make, every sound that escapes, they have to be real, okay? I have to be able to trust you."

You didn’t have any faith in this plan of his. But you nodded. "No more faking. I promise."

“And you can’t go sabotaging this just because you think it won’t happen,” he added.

It took a minute for you to answer. “So… we’re okay?”

Ruhn released a breath, his hands finding their places on your skin. “Yeah,” he said, leaning in to kiss your temple. “We’re okay.”

You pressed your lips to his, and Ruhn slowed it to a lingering kiss. It was tender, but your whole body reacted like his lips pulled your very soul from your body. Whether it was in arousal or relief he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. The knowledge that at least this had always been authentic was enough to balm the remaining threads of betrayal.

You pulled away. "And you," you said, your finger back to poking at his collarbone. "You cannot take any lack of orgasm as failure on your part. Because I know you. You'll think it's you, and it's not. It never was."

Your words struck a chord in him. You were right, even if he was only just realizing it. Your confession had made him insecure, and he questioned your relationship rather than listening to you.

He slipped a hand into your hair and pulled your lips back to his. It's slow and deep, a coaxing of each other's tongues and mouths, as if for the first time. But it wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t even the fiftieth time. Ruhn had never enjoyed kissing a female as much as he did you. In previous relationships, he had always preferred other activities for his tongue. But with you— Kissing you lit up his soul, like a spark of starlight just from the touch of your lips. Your kiss was just as intimate and erotic as anything else. You swelled in his arms, like a balloon he was breathing air into, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling yourself into him, fingers tracing through his long hair. It felt amazing.

Ruhn's own hands trailed along your body, feeling you react to his touch. He pulled you onto his lap, which you did with no fuss, pulling his lip ring into your mouth. A low groan rumbled in Ruhn's chest. You smiled against him. "I love your sounds."

"I want to hear yours," Ruhn said at your ear. His teeth trailed down the tender skin of your neck, and a heated breath escaped from your lips. He nipped. "You can do better than that.”

Your teeth came down hard on his shoulder, and Ruhn hissed, his hands digging into the flesh at your waist. You usually didn't bite until later on in the process. It made him happy. It was a sign you were just as turned on as he was.

He pulled back from your kiss, trailing his thumb across your lips as a breath shuddered across it. He caught your eye. "We didn't say this earlier, but I think it should be another rule: We tell each other the truth. Always. I'll go first:" he added, hopefully taking the danger out of the request. "I like it most when I get to taste you."

Your eyes grew wide at his confession, a sharp rise-and-fall of your chest spurring him on. "I love the feeling of you around my tongue, and I love the sounds you make when I go down on you."

He held your gaze, patiently awaiting your response.

It was a long wait. Red in the face, you found your words. "I like that, too. But I like it best when you're under me."

Ruhn's dick twitched at the thought. You liked riding his face the best? Fuck, you were created just for him.

Ruhn removed you from his hips and settled towards the head of the bed, while you discarded your underwear. He motioned for you, and you draped a leg across his face. The skirt of your dress settled around him. You lowered yourself onto Ruhn's awaiting lips, and his first movement was a long stripe of his tongue along your folds. You released a vocal sigh, and Ruhn traced his lip along your clit with a smile. His girl had always required extra work up to get vocal. Now he knew why.

He breathed in your scent, lapping at the wetness already heating your skin. Your hips rolled downwards, and his arms locked onto your thighs. One of your hands laced fingers with his. He growled against your core, and you whined softly at the sensation.

Ruhn took note. This was no longer about physical gratification; it was an experiment. Ruhn wanted to know exactly what he could do that would make you unravel. Every touch was to gauge your response. Now that you were being honest about how he made you feel, he wanted to know exactly how you would respond to his best work: his tongue stroking the length of you folds (breathy inhales and her hand squeezing his), his tongue penetrating her (inner walls clenching and rolled hips), his lip-ring against her clit (twitches and cries), him sucking on her clit with and without his fingers pressed inside of her (grinding down on him). He tried it all, and he stored away the information. The longer he worked you, the wetter you became. Which was impressive anyway, because you were already turned on when you first sat down on him.

At a particularly sharp suck on your clit, your entire body reacted, back arching as a fragmented moan escaped. Good to know. He ran his lip ring over the bud again, and you squirmed against him. His strong arms held your thighs tightly to him. You always had been wriggly. "R-Ruhn."

His name fell from your lips in fractured speak, and his dick twitched against his jeans. Hearing his name on your tongue like this was enough to drive him mad. He rolled that spot with his fingertips as his tongue dipped inside. Those inner walls were tight around his tongue, and Ruhn moaned, the vibration sending a shiver up your spine. You pulled against his hold again.

'Talk to me', Ruhn said into your mind, moaning again and the vibrations climbed upwards.

It worked like a charm. "Ruhn, you have to… stop with the clit."

Your words were nearly a plea, and you resisted his touch again. Ruhn released one of your thighs to give you space. Your hips lifted off of his lips a little, and he took the chance to slide two fingers inside. The soft moan that fell from you was everything.

His fingers pressed against your inner walls, and he was thrilled when you rutted against him. You were really trying to be honest with him. His heart swelled, and he kissed your core. His fingers curved in rhythm against that inner spot. Your hips rolled against his fingers, searching for the pressure, and all at once, Ruhn could feel your desperation. Your body knew you were close, even if you didn’t. You'd told him to back off, but you were right there. He could get you there.

Ruhn pressed a flat tongue across your clit, the pressure ripping a loud cry from your lips. That was new. Ruhn’s soul ate it up.

He did it again, needing to hear the sound again, pressing against the sensitive bud at the same time his fingers thrummed against your inner palette. You were swollen and ready. You just needed a little bit more. He sucked on your clit again, and you ripped yourself off of him, sprawling next to him on the bed.

He turned quickly. "Don't get excited," you said, eyes squeezed closed. "I'm just overstimulated."

Ruhn couldn't help it. Disappointment flooded over him.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Stop,” he said, his hand on your cheek as he kissed your forehead.

You were nearly too soft to hear. “I tried to hold on.”

"I know you did," he reassured. "And you were incredible. We'll get there." His eyes locked onto yours.

You weren’t so sure, but he was. And the taste of yourself on his lips was enough.

[hypersonic04]

Can you write something about when Ross introduces the reader to his friends? Or vice versa? I know they kinda meet at the bar but maybe Ross talking about how much he likes her the day after or something 🤭

I love the idea of this!

I think maybe it's post-bar situation, and as you said, he's been talking about how much he likes her to all of his friends. He was sat round at one of theirs watching the football and one of them asked about you, and he went so blushy and coy! They all really liked you too, and it was visibly obvious how into each other you were that night! They're encouraging him to ask you out, and I think rather than just point-blank asking you on a date, he kind of skirts around it a little bit.

"Do you remember Tom, my mate from the other night? It's his birthday on Friday, we're going out for some drinks. He said you're more than welcome to come and bring some friends, if you fancy it." He's driving you home when he says this, craftily timing it so that there's not much left of the car journey in case you say no. Obviously you're very enthusiastic about it, smiling perhaps a bit too excitedly about an evening in the pub. He's chuffed with your response, telling you the details and everything.

I think it's that particular occasion when you properly get to meet his friends. You take his friend a card and a bottle of wine, which Ross finds really sweet ("you shouldn't have, that's so lovely of you."), and I think they kind of drop hints to the both of you to just get on with it lol. Maybe Ross has gone out for a smoke with some of his other mates, some of yours too, and it's just you and the birthday boy and his girlfriend. They're immediately like 'has he asked you out yet?' to which you flush bright pink.

"Sorry?" You question, taking a rather large gulp of beer.

"Has Ross asked you out yet? I mean, we've been on at him for ages, I don't know why it's taking him so long."

"Uh, no, I-"

He comes back in before the conversation can escalate (thank GOD), and he's all smiley and his hands are freezing when they rest on your bare shoulders. It makes you tingle a little bit, the contact on your skin, all kinds of thoughts making you avoid his attempted eye contact. The night is as lovely as ever, maybe you and Ross have a game of pool that he 'let you win!' (he did not let you win), and you cheer on his mates when they take the little stage in the corner and decide it's karaoke night, delivering a wonderful rendition of Wonderwall.

You're going around saying your goodbyes when one of his other mates makes a rather loud joke about him understanding what Ross sees in you. I reckon Ross is equal parts embarrassed and also a bit jealous? In his mind, no other man should be able to look at you, because you're his lol. I mean, obviously he sees the stares you get in public and the way men look at you, but it's different when it's one of his mates making a cheeky joke. He just rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his beer, raising his eyebrows at you when you get to him.

"I'll wait with you outside for your taxi." He kind of states matter-of-factly, not giving you much choice (not that you'd have said no).

You're both leaning against the wall outside the pub, your jacket pulled around you and your breath visible. The music in there is muffled, and there's not many people in the smoking area either - it's kind of just the two of you, and it's so nice after an evening of being surrounded by people.

"They like you, my mates, I mean." He gives you a small smile and it makes your heart flutter, because his face is in such close proximity and he looks all sleepy and you want nothing more than to bring him back to your flat and fall asleep together. Although you're yet to experience it, you're convinced there's no duvet quite like Ross' arms around you.

"Oh, yeah, they're lovely." You nod, kicking some stones from underneath your shoes. "They did mention about how they keep telling you to ask me out, though." You giggle. He groans, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as he cringes, making you laugh even more.

"I'm sorry about that, I..." his voice trails off and he sighs, a laugh escaping his lips. "What did you say to them when they said that?"

"I dunno, I just..." You swallow heavily when you notice him looking down at you, a fondness in his eyes. "'Wouldn't say no."

The corners of his mouth curve upwards, but your taxi arrives just before he can say anything. You both rise from leaning on the wall and, in some kind of unfamiliar spurt of bravery, you stand up on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. His skin is cold against your warm lips and you can feel the bristle of his beard as you pull away, getting into the taxi. He's beaming, and when he goes back in after making sure you're alright and everything, his friends are definitely suspicious and are teasing him - "you did it, didn't you? mate, she's so cool. ask her out, for christ sake!"

[mehbzz]

Does Billy love sid in your au? What's his

This has been sat in my inbox for a while. Please send the rest of the question if you want! But you can have this tiny fluffy snippet for now! Billy Loomis x F!Reader. Implied Poly!ghostface

----------------------------------------------

“Do you love Sid?”

You blurt the question before you can think it through. It's met with dead silence, Billy seemingly frozen, his eyes riveted on the TV screen. It stays quiet long enough for you to genuinely wonder if you had said it out loud. 

Stu recovers first, coughing around his mouthful of popcorn as he stands. “Wooo bunny, way to kill the mood. I am out.”

He pulls a face at you as he leaves, mouthing something at you that you can’t make out. It leaves you in the tense silence with Billy. His rigid posture making you uncomfortable enough that you try to sit up and give him some space. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer tha-,”

“I love you.” He interrupts, linking his fingers through yours to stop you moving further away but he still won't look at you. “I did love Sid. I think. Just-, not anymore."

"What happened?"

He shrugs. "I just don't feel that way about her anymore."

“You must care about her to not just leave her though.” You feel him flinch slightly at your question and you curse yourself for pushing it.

He shrugs again. “It’s complicated.” It’s not a very good answer, it’s just an obvious avoidance of one, and it leaves more questions in your head. Would he fall out of love with you too?

"You're different," he squeezes your hand. "I know what you're thinking, don't think that."

"Different how?” You want to drop this conversation, he’s obviously uncomfortable but at the same time you want to know. You suddenly want the reassurance, a little knot of petty jealousy fluttering to life in your chest. You want to hear him say you’re better than Sid.

"You're mine," he says it with such conviction that you're heart skips a beat. He finally turns to look at you, his expression so intense that for a second you forget how to breathe. "You're part of me. Like-," His cheeks are turning pink. "You and Stu are a part of my soul. I’d kill anyone who tried to take you away from me."  His grip tightens round your fingers and he breaks eye contact, his gaze dropping to your hands, and you feel too dumbfounded to respond. You don’t know how to react; something in his eyes had sent a small sliver of fear down your spine that you’re desperately trying to ignore. The both of you sitting in silence for a few minutes until he clears his throat awkwardly.

"If you tell Stu I said that I'll kill you too." His voice sounds strained, forced, his attempt at lightening the mood falling flat. He murmurs your name when you don’t respond, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I love you, not Sid."

You feel torn between teasing him or not. It felt too intense to make light of, despite his attempt to do so.

"I wasn't-," you sigh, stroking your fingers over the inside of his wrist, his pulse fast and erratic against the pad of your thumb. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his breath stutter as he relaxes against you. "I know you do. I love you too."

[mj-ackerman]

SxF Light Novel: Family Portrait Translation Mission 3: Franky's New Love!? (Part 3)

<<PART 2. DO NOT REPOST

That day, it was as sunny as it could have been. 

It was also the hospital where he worked, although it is ostensible. There was no need for him to be sneaky, but Loid hid himself behind a building to avoid being seen and lurked at the meeting place of Franky and the girl. The backyard, which he had considered as an escape route in case of emergency, was deserted as ever. The white rose bushes, which he did not know who had planted them and with what intention, made him feel a sense of loneliness. 

“Um… is that you, Franky….?”

Alessa, the girl who arrived late, timidly approached Franky, who was sitting on a bench next to a rose bush. 

“Hey.”

At that, Franky stood up. He looks like a completely different person. 

Franky’s soft, slightly quirky brown hair and slender, gentle baby face suited his small frame well. He was dressed in a simple gray turtleneck paired with bright denim and flat sneakers, a departure from his usual attire. 

Everything was newly arranged for today. He also has taken off his trademark black-butted glasses and the earring in his left ear. 

“I’m glad that the surgery went well.”

“Yes.”

Franky smiled through his fake face, and the girl giggled as well. Her face showed a clear admiration for Franky. 

Alessa was a lovely girl in everyone’s eyes. With her beauty and youth, Balzer’s name, and her passion for the songs she let Franky hear, she would surely become an opera actress to rival her mother. And she would get a lot of patrons. 

Whether she likes it or not, her source is a mixture of good and bad--- she will be bombarded with information. 

As a result, Alessa becomes an unwitting source of information at the hand of the man she admires.

Loid hasn't had a good conversation with Franky since then. Even this morning, when he applied the special make-up, they only talked about the bare minimum necessary. 

Are you really happy with this? 

Loid chuckled as he found himself asking the same question in his heart, unknowingly. 

He has always thought rationally and always carried things out as smoothly as possible. ----He should have lived his life thinking like that, but at some point, he started doing unnecessary things and worrying about it. 

As two faces popped into his head, Loid squinted his eyes at Franky and he heard him said, 

“Here, congratulations on your discharge.”

“Thank you….!”

Next to the rose bush, Alessa, who had been given a bouquet of flowers by Franky, blushed happily. 

“.....This is so pretty.”

She murmured as she nuzzled her face into the pure white dahlia flower. 

Franky calmly watched over her as she continued to talk happily about when she will be discharged from the hospital, how she would like him to come visit her at her house sometime, and how she would like him to meet her father, mother, and brother. 

“I want to go to an amusement park too. I’ve always wanted to ride on a ferris wheel even just once. I’ve been practicing and practicing, so I haven’t had the time to do that until now…..but, after my surgery, my father and mother told me to take a little rest and take it easy, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to go with you, Franky ....”

Alessa talked about her little wishes. 

Alessa, who had expected Franky to smile and respond with “Of course,” without disobeying her request, he instead muttered, “Listen,” in a calm voice. 

“I have something I really need to tell you today, Alessa.”

“What is it about?”

Alessa asked with a smile. She had the eyes of a young innocent child who believed in other people without doubting them. 

Franky’s eyes swim in the air for a moment. However, he quickly looked back at the girl in front of him and smiled softly. 

“I’m leaving this country on urgent business. So I won’t be able to see you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Eh…..?”

Alessa’s toothy smile froze. Loid was also perplexed by Franky’s unexpected behavior and actions. 

Franky just smiled. 

He was smiling quietly with the face of another person that Loid made for him. Confused, Alessa squeezed the bouquet in her hands tightly. 

“Why….? I mean…. It’s just…..you promised me, didn’t you, Franky? That you will always be there for me..”

“I’m sorry.”

Franky’s voice was gentle, it couldn’t be gentler. However, there was also a strength and a soft refusal to accept what would never be reversed. 

Tears welled up in Alessa’s eyes. 

“You’re awful…”

When she began to cry uncontrollably, Franky said “I’m sorry,” again. 

And then he said, “Hey, Alessa, can you sing one last song for me?” he requested. 

To Loid, it sounded like a prayer.

Alessa sobbed for a while, but eventually she began to sing in a voice that was faint with tears. With her clear and beautiful voice, she sang a sad love song. Franky listens to the girl’s voice, as if her figure is burned into his heart. 

Loid kept his eyes down and left quietly, so as not to be noticed by the two. 

-------------

“Yo.”

“.........”

When Loid stopped by his usual bar, Franky, already red-faced, was tipping a glass at the counter. He wasn’t wearing the mask anymore. Loid sat in one of the vacant seats. 

When he asked the taciturn old master for a martini, Franky chided him, 

“As usual, you’re drinking something pompous.”

On top of that, he also ordered the same thing for himself saying,

“Master, I’ll have one of those, too.”

Soon after, the cocktails were served, and for a while both sipped the pungent, olive scented cocktail, before long, Franky announced with a blur,

“I’m sorry. I even tried tricking you.”

“.....it’s fine.”

Loid looked down at the cocktail in his glass and said,

“If anything, I would have despised you otherwise.”

“Hahaha…you’ve really changed huh.”

Franky laughed a little. 

“You’ll die young doing that, you know.”

Contrary to his words, there was no hint of ridicule, but rather a somewhat comforting, even hint of worrisome to his tone. 

After drinking in silence again for a while, Franky casted down his red-stained eyes and said, 

“You know, I….I want Alessa to live in something truly beautiful from here on out.”

“.....I see.”

Among them, he himself, who lives in darkness, should probably not be part of it. Maybe that’s the reason why he let go of her hand.

If it was that girl, I’m sure she wouldn’t have rejected this guy because of his looks, like all the other women he met until now. 

Loid was sure she would have accepted everything about Franky, including his looks. Or even his secret identity of being an informant….

No, it’s the opposite…..

Franky knew it. He knew the girl’s pure feelings for him, that’s why he played the role of a despicable man blinded by love, and with Loid’s help, he pretended to be someone else.

In the future, even if they were to pass each other on the street, Alessa would never recognize Franky. 

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Hn?”

“You should’ve told me honestly “I want to give up, so please lend me a hand”.”

If he had done so, Loid would have helped him in the usual way. There would have been no need for such a roundabout way. 

However, in response to Loid’s reasonable question, Franky said, “No way! I’d die saying those embarrassing lines if it was just all a misunderstanding, and what are you gonna do if it was huh!?!! I’d be sad to death! Stupid!” he sniffed. 

He was back to his usual self. 

Loid tipped the empty glass. The remaining olives inside shook a little. 

“I didn’t expect you to be mature.”

“Ahaha. Don’t you dare throw me away too.”

Franky laughed happily. 

“Damn it! I wanted to date her! I wanted to look cool even a little, I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Saying that, he then threw himself down the counter and cried deliberately. Loid ordered two more cocktails for himself and for his friend averting his eyes so as not to see Franky’s real tears behind his theatrical crying. 

-----------

“Congratulations on your discharge.”

“Continue to do your best from here out.”

“Someday, I will definitely watch you on an opera stage!”

“Please give my best regards to your father and mother.”

“Everyone, thank you so much for your help.”

The girl was handed a large bouquet of flowers and was seen off grandly by the director and other doctors and nurses in charge, and headed for the car waiting for her at the entrance of the hospital. 

They were very good to her in the time she was there. However, the person she wanted to be there more than anyone else, was not there. 

The girl regretted having blamed him for being “awful” when they parted. She was ashamed of herself for having said such a one-sided condemnatory remark to him, even though he probably had his own reasons for leaving. 

Franky, I’m sorry.

And thank you, she told him in her heart. She knows that under this sky, no matter where he was, Franky will support her. That’s all she could think of now. 

The girl looks back at the hospital where she has fond memories of him. Then she passed a young man walking down the street. The nostalgic smell of cigarettes tickles her nostrils. 

Franky….?

She almost smiled as soon as she saw him, but she immediately knew that she had mistaken him for someone else. The color of his hair, his hairstyle, his face, everything about him was different from the man she knew. 

The dejected girl got into the car to shake off such thoughts. 

The car carrying the girl starts to drive away. The girl has no way of knowing, of course, that the man has quietly said his goodbye. 

[hannahssimblr]

I'm curious what the drama was about with part 2 of your story? What were people getting annoyed about?

Haha i'll put this under the cut for anyone who doesn't want to be spoiled

it was all about DEAN!!!

Some people clocked almost instantly that he was playing games with Evie and trying to mess with her head, and others thought he was a nice hard working man who didn't deserve skepticism from others.

It really kicked off on chapter 9 - it's the one where Evie waits outside his place of work to ask him why he's blocked her and he insists on walking her all the way home even though she's not totally cool with him knowing where she lives.

People were fighting in the comments because some felt he was right to accompany her because it's unsafe for a woman to walk alone at night, and others pointed out that it's unsafe because of men like him. Then it became a bit more like 'well if Dean is a creep then Evie is a creep for waiting outside his work for him'. It was a whole big thing where some of the women were saying 'well she said no! and he pushed her anyway!' (which is Dean's MO) and some confused men were saying 'but she's drunk! she doesn't know what's best for her - sometimes you have to act in a person's best interests even if they insist otherwise' it was really about a woman's right to choose for herself versus a man's perceived responsibility to take care of her. It was interesting but it was also a bit much for me hahaha - i just wanted people to read the story, not for them to make it controversial. It wasn't really supposed to be a commentary on women vs men, it was supposed to be Evie just doing what Evie would do, and Dean doing the same.

The other thing was that some people were annoyed because Evie was being a bitch - there were comments about her unkind thoughts about her college friends, and questions about why she hung out with them if she didn't like them, and I honestly felt the reasons for this were clear enough, but I guess if you don't get it and you'd never personally behave like that then it might seem a bit weird. I was surprised by the absence of empathy towards her, as though she should have somehow developed a rock steady sense of self and been able to resist peer pressure despite never showing signs of being able to do so before. Evie is mean about the other girls and Dean because she is rewarded socially by the others for doing so, and she does drugs in the final chapter despite being against them for the whole story because she's given up the last shreds of herself, she doesn't care anymore and nothing matters, so neither do her personal rules and boundaries. Everything has been bulldozed over already by these people, so what's one more thing?

Obviously Jude got flack too, because he always does hahaha. He's definitely not his most wonderful self in part 2, he's avoidant of the hurt he's caused, but he's also like, 20 years old. It always bothered me that very adult expectations were placed on him when all he ever did was act like a normal young man. In my opinion he's in the right in chapter 19 during the conversation at Jen's flat, but I remember commenters were annoyed by him coming in and trying to tell Evie what to do - interesting, seeing as the same people argued for Dean to be allowed to overrule Evie's explicit desires in the interest of her safety, but Jude was not. I just never really got why Jude should be held to a higher standard than Dean, but anyway, it was all interesting, if not slightly stressful to experience.

I don't really get any drama with part 3 - I think mainly people are reading silently, and if they hate it and they're fuming about what's happening they don't really let me know, which is fine with me hahaha I just wanted to write a little story at the end of the day.

[practically-an-x-man]

Ok so like I know Indie is edgy about it and stuff which understandable but I can't stop thinking about what could've been with her family 🥺

!Spoilers I guess for the fic!

But like it's sad! It's sad Satine was murdered and it's sad that Obi Wan and her obviously weren't able to get Indie when she was older. It's sad that they had to hide her alone on a planet in the first place! Or felt like they had to.. I wonder if their spirits(?) Or at least Obi Wan's force ghost self? I wonder if he forever feels that guilt of abandoning her...

Yeah... I thought a lot about that when I was writing the fic too

Spoilery things under the cut

So yeah, for one, it really does suck that they had to hide her on Corellia at all, even if the original plan was just for a few years until things died down enough to retrieve her. But think about it: if she grew up somewhere else, even if they were careful, eventually something would slip about who her parents were. And then she's a diplomatic bargaining chip or a youngling trained too early in the Force at best, flat-out ransom at worst. Her parents would've had a lot of enemies, and very powerful enemies at that, and the safest thing was just to not let those enemies realize Indigo existed at all.

And then... obviously that plan fell apart, but the initial idea was well-intentioned at least.

Second thing: fun fact, the original draft for this story DID have Indie interact with Obi-Wan's Force ghost at some point, in more detail than the one whisper she gets after the final battle. It was supposed to occur before the final battle, basically in place of having her captured on the Judgement. She was going to have a bit of an identity crisis after Maz broke the news to her, and fly off to where Obi-Wan's Force ghost was last spotted to have a conversation with him. I was going to have Hux there as well, since Indie doesn't know how to fly a ship and she'd want him there with her anyway.

In my head, it would've been a bit of tension in and of its own right, at first. Obi-Wan would try and apologize and explain (and yes, he feels incredibly guilty for what happened to her), but Indie would get overwhelmed by the emotion and lash out at him at first (and understandably, I mean, she was left on Corellia). It would end on a bit of an angsty note too, where she basically tells him that he was never her father before storming off. Once she leaves, Obi-Wan would stop Hux before he follows her, just long enough to tell him to look after her since Obi-Wan couldn't. It's basically a stamp of approval for Hux, or the closest thing. Meanwhile, Indigo was looking for closure and didn't find it.

(the idea here is that then, in the final battle, her reclaiming her name and ancestry is that much more impactful since she tried so hard to avoid it before)

In the end, I felt like that scene wouldn't really work for the main fic, for a few reasons.

I feel like it was accomplished well enough with the Maz scene, and having the Obi-Wan scene also might have felt redundant. Indigo's lingering trauma over her parents is a big part of her character, but there's a lot more to her than just whining about being left behind

Having them interact directly with Obi-Wan's Force ghost felt too easy. Usually the Force ghosts only appear to people when they need it and nobody else can help. Seeking them out is different, and Indigo has other people who help her get through that pain. As much as I love Ex Machina references in this fic, I try to avoid actual deus ex machinas like that. Obi-Wan is dead, there shouldn't be an easy way out.

I feel like it's more impactful not to have so much direct confrontation, closure or not. Indigo gets one whisper, and that's all she needs. Her parents have never been a figure in her life, and while she carries that trauma with her, she wouldn't get much out of seeing Obi-Wan in person as opposed to hearing the story from Maz

It took us away from the action, while the Judgement scene allowed them to keep things moving in a forward direction. The idea struck me, and I didn't think I could fit both ideas in whole maintaining the timeline of the movie decently well, so the Judgement scene won out

This answer got a lot longer than I meant it, I apologize. But you actually struck on something that was a big factor in weaving this fic together, so I wanted to talk about it! Thank you for the ask, I always love the chance to talk about my writing! I try to put a lot of nuance and detail into the characters and themes of my writing, so I will take any excuse to talk about it lol

[valkerymillenia]

please make a post about bruce wayne being autistic

I already have, for several years now I've been saying that Bruce Wayne is neurodivergent and most likely autistic, but I don't think I've made a very detailed post specifically here on Tumblr so... Might as well?

With the arrival of "The Batman" and Pattison giving us a Bruce Wayne portrayal that most definitely reflects a neurodivergent Batman the way he should be, more and more people are starting to adhere to the autistic!Bruce headcanon and I'm all for it but many still argue that it's not canon to the comics, I beg to differ (and I'm hyper focused right now) so let's make a post about it, shall we?

Proof that canon Bruce is very likely in the autistic spectrum

For starters, Bruce canonically has PTSD (and anger issues that come with it) and OCD. He also suffers from acute anxiety and depression but none of this takes away from the fact that he's been autistic-coded for decades and not just in the comics, in fact, I'm going to be talking about the character across several types of media.

Also, remember that autism is a spectrum and every person is different.

Let's start with this actual panel from "Batman: The Imposter", it's a recent (2021-2022) black label comic but it's relevant since it features the point of view of a therapist/psychiatrist on young Bruce.

But now, let's get to the rest.

Brucie is excellent at mirroring, masking and generally BS-ing people!

As an adult he uses scripting a lot and his detective skills to pick up cues from people and act as they expect of him. Very good at playing pretend, not so good at real relationships. He reads people through factual data, analyzing micro-expressions, posture and words like a puzzle rather than naturally understanding social cues. (Additionally, he actually has fun playing different characters like Brucie or Matches.)

He's extremely empathetic (my god, so much hyper empathy) but also struggles with alexithymia.

He feels so much empathy that he literally cannot stop caring, he cares so much that he tries to protect the city with his bare hands, throws money at a million causes and will always go the extra mile for people (such as, for example, offering a Wayne Ent. job to an underage prostitute to get her off the streets).

He feels all this compassion but can't quite express it, he has a lot of trouble being emotionally demonstrative and picking up the right social cues, vulnerability does not come easy to him and neither does abstract expression.

He uses a flat tone, he's monotone and generally expressionless when he's not trying to fake a reaction or emotion, so he comes off as disconnected and disinterested and that causes friction with people like Dick and Clark.

He tends to express himself more in actions than words precisely because verbal expression is hard for him (unless he has time to plan out his speeches or is being very blunt).

Examples:

When Dick tells Bruce he's dating Babs and Bruce just grunts and shows no reaction, Dick misinterprets as lack of interest but Bruce actually just has no idea what reaction is expected of him.

He's incredibly blunt and to the point, he says exactly what he means and sometimes comes off as very confrontational, he doesn't go through the trouble of lying to make people feel better (I don't want to think about the Ric arc but... the Ric arc). If he has to lie to play a part or mask, he will often resort to sarcasm.

When he wanted to adopt Tim he was so bad at putting his intentions in words that Tim couldn't understand him and Bruce had to ask Alfred to explain/show him.

He hates small talk with a passion and goes out of his way to avoid it, he says what he has to say and leaves, if he wants to know how someone is doing he will go check/spy on them rather than simply ask (literally does this with the whole family). This also extends to Batman's habit of just disappearing mid-conversation once he feels he has as much info as he needs.

When Bruce gets engaged (and I'm referring to the almost-wedding with Selina in this case) he has trouble telling his kids and best friends about it because he doesn't understand why it would be important to them and doesn't know how to say it.

When Bruce is proud with Damian's efforts reigning in his violent tendencies early in their Batman and Robin partnership he had this interaction with Alfred- A: "Did you tell Damian you are proud of him?", B: "Of course.", A: "What exactly did you say?", B: "I said I found his efforts commendable.", A: *sigh* "Couldn't you just say you are proud of him?", B: *visibly confused* "Isn't that exactly what I did?"

When he and Dick have that rough patch where Dick leaves and stops being Robin (right before he becomes Nightwing), a lot of that bs is because Bruce can't properly express himself and pushes Dick away instead telling him that he's letting him go for his own good.

When Jason comes back as Red Hood and is so pissed at Bruce for not killing Joker to avenge him and for replacing him with Tim? Bruce could have told Jason that he did in fact try to kill Joker to avenge him but was stopped by Superman (and a whole lot of other bs) and he didn't replace him with Tim, he rejected Tim and Tim stalked him and made himself Robin against Bruce's wishes. Would this explanation had helped with Jason's anger? Probably not but Bruce didn't even think to try because he didn't know how to express himself and that bullshit spiraled out of control.

Clark: "I know you didn't bring me back because you like me." B: "I don't...not like you."

Another canon interaction- B: "Family is...good." Jason: "What are you trying to tell me?" B: "I just told you." Dick: "He's telling you he loves you." B: "Isn't that what I just said?"

Hyper empathy- he pays for the Graysons' funeral and takes Dick in literally out of empathy, he sees himself in this boy and he thinks the most rational reaction to this is to adopt the kid, and he does it again with Jason.

SO. MANY. ENGAGEMENTS. He's so bad at expressing or even understanding emotion that when he falls in love he does it HARD and is really bad at expressing it so he just jumps right to the ring. Granted, this is a product of writers re-hashing the same classic climax and drama tropes with love interests over 80 years of history but I went through the comics and counted, Bruce was engaged at least 9 times (11 if we don't nitpick too much).

(I have a hundred more examples but this is getting long as it is.)

Real emotional expressions are rare and that makes them stand out, they can also be extreme and/or inappropriate.

Some examples of his extreme emotion reactions could be adopting the kids so easily, or punching people as a first instinct when he gets mad or overwhelmed, even when it's unnecessary (I could give a dozen examples of this one but my favorite is during the Court of Owls nonsense when he discovers the Owls put an electrum implant in Dick's tooth and rather than explain this to Dick while they are having a calm conversation about the CoO, he just pauses to punch Dick in the middle of the conversation in order to knock the fake tooth out, talk about a drama king).

Lack of social skills.

He doesn't even try to be social as Batman (and we've established that Brucie is a mask), and often misses certain jokes or sarcasm and has a very skewed sense of humor (often finding things funny that others don't or saying amusing things totally unintentionally).

His grunts or just outright refusal to answer certain things. Vocal stims. He seems to actually go non-verbal from time to time.

He has a lot of complex feelings but often doesn't understand them or know how to show them. Canon Dick, Clark and Jason don't often 'get' Bruce and become very frustrated by his lack of communication and his avoidance of emotional topics.

One of the reasons he connected so well with Cassandra Cain before Rebirth is because he doesn't have to talk to her, she can understand his feelings purely through his body language and that is clearly a massive relief for him.

When he's alone with Selina he shows a very soft romantic side but even there he has trouble knowing the right thing say or what is expected.

As an example, the proposal comes to mind- B: "marry me." S:"no" [some time later] S:"ask me again, but this time ASK, don't say it at me." B:"will you marry me?" S:"yes".

(Also, literally all his repressed reactions to the break up after she left him at the altar.)

He has canonically had meltdowns as a child in the comics (and shutdows in the "Gotham" show). It can be argued that some of his extreme (often violent) reactions to certain things as an adult could also be called meltdowns.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria. I think this one is really obvious, the man would rather block out anything emotion-related than face rejection, it's often a big trigger for his depressive tendencies.

He has "special interests".

Batman started as a symbol (let's not forget he has a bat phobia) but he became obsessed with all things bat-related, obviously. But he also has more specific and personal interests- detective work (he will make up puzzles if there's nothing to solve or he will actively look for trouble if everything else has been handled), making gadgets, dinosaurs, Grey Ghost, Zorro comics, classic lit, etc.

He hyperfixates on his interests and hyperfocuses on specific tasks A LOT to the point of injury and forgoing basic needs. A good example of his hyperfocus is how he handles specific Batman cases.

He info dumps! Enough said.

He has told Gordon that he "doesn't change his routine" and there was a whole panel about the importance of routine for him, including doing the same rituals every night. When he has to take a break from patrolling due to injuries, more than once it's been shown how it's almost physically uncomfortable for him to have that routine interrupted even when there's no specific case to follow up on.

Sensory issues!!!

Bruce has shown to like quiet and darkness, he's shown in some forms of media to be sensitive to bright light, he prefers to avoid crowds when he can, he has a massively high pain tolerance, he has a specific type of clothes he feels comfortable in and doesn't deviate from them (not the bat-suit but rather his damn turtlenecks).

He is a picky eater and likes very spicy food and sweets (autistic people either prefer bland foods and certain textures to avoid overstimulation or they go for very strong intense flavors precisely because they need the stimulation, Bruce is the latter, Alfred often sways him with sweets and it's official that his favorite food is spicy mulligatawny soup). In fact, he's such a picky eater that he has stubborn eating habits (like forgetting to eat entirely) and doesn't see anything wrong with feeding young Dick nothing but chips because it's "what Dick likes".

The entire design of the bat-suit could be connected to sensory things: his cape is very heavy, which could be connected to pressure stimming (it's so heavy that when Dick becomes Batman he complained and had to have a lighter cape made), if you really think about it his cowl is designed in a way that can filter out excessive stimuli (lights and sounds) and help him focus on specific things, etc, etc.

As a kid he connects better with adults because of his intellectual level, but as an adult he connects a lot more easily with children and teens.

This is shown both with people he rescues and with the people around him, there's a reason he connects and works so well with the young Robins but starts having communication issues with them when they grow up. (It's not mentioned often but a typical trait of people in the spectrum is that they tend to have problems connecting with people in their own age group).

Outside of life-or-death situations he often avoids physical contact as much as possible, even with people he cares about, and sometimes even when he's clearly touch-starved he doesn't usually initiate contact.

It seems to depend a lot on the level of trust he has for people. If a person he trusts initiates it he gets awkward but enjoys it, Dick is a good example; if a person he's not close to initiates contact he often shows annoyance or discomfort. It requires a high level of intimacy for him to initiate contact but when he does he's extremely affectionate (scenes with Selina or any of the his kids come to mind).

He likes making lists, files and hoarding information.

There's a scene where someone apologizes because the info they gave wasn't helpful at all and Bruce's reply was "I know more than I did 10 minutes ago. I like information." He also keeps very extensive (and often invasive) files about people he knows and has his famous contingency plans for every superhero he knows.

He's very methodical and organized about these things (like his case files and reports) but...

...he's a naturally messy person as seen by the state the manor and cave fall into when Alfred is not around and has difficulty taking care of himself, not because he's some sort spoiled rich man-child but because he underestimates his own needs and limits. EDIT: this is executive dysfunction. Both Battison and comic Bruce seem to need prompting for basic things like taking a shower or cleaning up after themselves as they seem to forget their own needs.

When he's not masking, he has a very atypical body language, such as his skulking and looming, avoiding eye contact, his evasiveness, the way he can stay inhumanly still for long periods of time if he needs to but is also extremely impatient and often doesn't stay still (I remember a panel where the cave computer takes 8 seconds to process some data and Bruce still complains it's too slow and needs and update, much to Clark's confusion).

.

I have more but this list is so long already and I'm tired.

I also had some comic panels but I don't have the patience to find them and pick out them out (tumblr has a 10 picture per post limit anyway). Might edit this later if I find any. If anyone knows the different sources, comic issues or has the different panels and gifs, feel free to add them.

SMALL EDIT: Martian Manhunter also claimed that being in Bruce's mind is very unpleasant. This could easily be because of the amount of trauma or intrusive thoughts from OCD but it's also very possible he was talking about experiencing the world and likely sensory overload from Bruce's perspective.

[shawty-writes-a-little]

Someday then [Part 11]

Find part 1 here

Genre: Darkling x fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, violence

Word count: 5k (y’all wanted a happy ending ok)

An: This has been so hard for me to write for some reason but Yeo here’s your final part-

—

After yesterday’s conversation, y/n didn’t pay much mind to it simply to avoid that happened in the first place. Some harsh words were exchanged on her part she believed. But she wanted to feel no remorse of that-no words that would’ve cut deeper than the years she spent waiting every time just to be discarded.

Soon y/n was going to be faced with a bigger problem than that, however much expected. She was strolling in the hallway when there was a different stomping of boots all around the palace. Troops going on about in a hurry-half aware she roamed through the hallway to her own duties to find Aleksander coming her way. In a mental struggle which side to turn aside to, to stay away from him. Just a few minutes ago she was debating if she hurt his feelings but couldn’t be bothered to think about the burden of conversation right now.

Before she could part ways, Aleksander seemed to walk in her direction in a rather approaching way. Good heavens. Just to make matters worse she thought.

He stopped in her way as she gave a slight nod without a word in the little span of time before he spoke “The sun summoner is missing.”

Y/n furrowed her brows with a realistic attempt over being stunned “Since when?”

“Since last night.” he replied.

“Do we know that for sure?” She inquired again with concern.

“We have had people look all a-“

“Might it be she is abducted? It’s not likely she would flee” y/n cut him off mid sentence sounding assertive.

“I didn’t tell you she’s missing out of the little palace.” He said with a flat tone shooting an arrow in the dark slightly not convinced wether she knew something?

“I just assumed that-apologies then”

“—For all we know she could still be here at the palace.”

“I’m not aware of anything go ask your troops.”There was a sudden change in her lean body language but she maintained a casual tone.

But now he knew she was probably hiding something. Aleksander wrapped his hand around her arm. Involuntary to her taking both of them to the nearest empty room while y/n struggled inside his grip in attempt to walk inside on her own. Reaching to a room unoccupied just maps all over the table Aleksander slammed the door behind them turning to her indignantly. “What do you know?”

“This is absurd! I told you I don’t. How would I?” Y/n replied with extremes.

“You don’t have the talent of dishonesty, I can tell you’re lying.” He said in a cold voice, still patient.

“I am not lying!” She said frustrated putting emphasis on ‘lying’

“What have you done with the sun summoner?” Aleksander asked again with the same venom in his flat voice sure she knew something. He was unaware that he was acting out on their conversation yesterday. He was upset, furious she had shut him off. Unknowingly he was showing that furiousness right now. Y/n having to do something with Alina was his half full-half empty way of looking at it right now. Deep down just looked for a reason to show how disquieted he was with her words.

“I—fine-” y/n sighed in exhaustion covering her face with her hands “I do have something to do with where the sun summoner is, what are you going to do? Beat it out of me?” She scoffed in disdain trying to move past him when Aleksander grabbed either of her biceps pinning her onto the shelf behind them forcefully with a loud thud.

“Now you stop playing games with me y/n and tell me what you did to her.” He said jaw clenched and gave her a tight pull to himself with his grip tightly around her biceps.

“Y-You do not speak to me this way.” She replied stammering, she could feel the bile rise up in her throat, she wanted to yell back at him with the same volume but she could only manage a sentence at a soft tone intimidated by his angry expressions; standing so close.

Aleksander got a hold of himself realising he can’t project his anger on her this way-it was entirely because he was agitated with the harsh words from the events of the earlier night but he could project it with how concerned he was for finding the sun summoner.

He left her sides slowly and y/n quickly walked out of his grip straightening her clothes. He regretted doing that. He did, truly. Somehow it was always too late for him before realising what he had done. But he didn’t let his remorse show-too smug for that.

“Tell me then” Aleksander said breaking the silence between them when y/n was staring at the wall, to evasive his gaze. He knew the act he just pulled had caused that-he was fighting really hard not to let that remorse sink in now.

“Alright” she sighed in defeat-giving up to put a fight against him he’s always had the upper hand. Sooner of later he always gets what he wants. “Alina came to meet me last night” her eyes flickered before she turned to face him “She knows. She knows what you are, wh-what you did. She just came to me to ask if it’s true” y/n casting her eyes lower.

“And what did you tell her?” Something had made him go cold, she could just tell the way he asked.

“-Only the truth.”

“Oh the truth now huh?” He huffed in reply nodding his head trying to process that “Was it before of after our conversation last light?”

“-Before”

Aleksander exhaled briefly and began “So you were stalling me for her last night till she could run away as you plotted?”

“I didn’t plot anything-” she faltered.

“Ah princess Y/n all so noble-always so keen to do the honourable thing! Obviously you didn’t plot anything you were doing her a favour no? Helping that poor girl out just like you when you first came here? An outsider-here amongst everyone, among me? Must’ve felt good to do the right thing? Well congratulations you just cost us Ravaka’s future.” Aleksander sneered at her as she stood stunned he’s yet again found someone else to blame for? It was odd enough to be haunted by someone who’s still alive all the days and nights she longed for him, the sadness of the words she didn’t say had built a home inside her. She had seen that evil and that good inside his eyes and chose to love him anyways yet he’d never wanted that. He never wanted that from her, he never wanted anyone to see him as that but she accepted and held onto that sunlight of a hope for love even after seeing his darkest secrets but he dissected and shattered that hope to its grave and the flowers never bloom again.

“Ravaka’s future should not be at the price of ruining someone’s life.” Y/n shot back as she could feel her throat closing up.

“There is a price for everything.” He said sternly correcting her.

“It’s not your price to pay!” She yelled as a teardrop rolled down her cheek. “But she’s far gone by now. You don’t get to decide what to do with her life now.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t even know where she is-where she is headed for, do you?” Aleksander raised a brow bending his head lower to assert power of his words.

“I-Are you trying to call my bluff?” She said brushing off her tears. She can’t cry in front of him-can’t give him that satisfaction.

“I just happen you know you that well ‘lady’y/n-you act more clever than you are sometimes” He snickered proceeding to leave the room, when y/n caught him from his side.

“We’re not done with this conversation-what are you going to do with her?” She asked in a shaky voice it was obvious she was trying to hold back tears.

“Only what it takes to change the world.”

“No-Aleksander” she crossed his way stepping in front of him from aside “Don’t-please don’t do this!”

Aleksander shut his eyes inhaling to be patient, “And who’s going to stop me?”

“Please I am begging you she has her whole life ahead of her—everyone is not your pawn!” Tears welled up her eyes and flowed in an unbroken stream.

“Am I going to have to go through you then?” He chuckled insultingly moving past her as she gave up standing in his way. Aleksander stomped out of the room and y/n felt cold, a dead silence that she could hear her own heartbeat. She knew he wasn’t going to stop-she couldn’t help Alina. She had failed her. She had failed yet again.

—

Aleksander who left little palace in the morning with a bundle emotions, an overextended welcome. He hadn’t yet left his tent walking around in that little space jotting down the information for the sun summoner, setting up plans to barricade which borders just then he could hear a different kind of hustle outside. Soldiers were conversing louder but he couldn’t exactly make out what was it. Ivan entered his tent panting before Aleksander could see for himself what the immense chatter was about.

“The-the drüskelle—they’ve attacked little palace” he announced as soon as entering the tent urgently without addressing other formalities, catching his breath.

Ivan’s words rang as a disbelief in Aleksander’s eras “What?” He asked unsure hoping he didn’t hear him right.

“Apparently they were on the watch right by our outskirts—they were waiting till we’d leave.” Ivan stated.

“They dare—“ Aleksander began furiously when Ivan interrupted his sentence mid way.

“General we might need to act soon.” Ivan stated pressing the urgency of matters.

“Right, Right-How many are hurt? Abducted?”

“-I don’t have the briefings but none abducted they attacked little palace just for…” Ivan hesitated to complete his sentence.

“For?”

“-Eric. But the letter mentioned he’s safe as ever, thank saints.”

Aleksander took a short sigh of relief before a wave of anger splashed over him again. The drüskelle attacked little palace? Their own home all for his own son in his absence.

Aleksander was lost in these thoughts and a plan before Ivan spoke again, “I could gather a team from everyone here and lead it back to little palace myself-“

“No I will be there. You gather that troop and we leave for little palace right now.” He said furiously, crafting up plans already.

Just as he was about to step out of his tent hurriedly Ivan stopped him “There’s something you should know—it’s about lady Kirigan.” Ivan had that low hesitant tone again.

By now Aleksander knew it wouldn’t be pleasant news, Ivan’s tone sensed it clearly he was regretting to have to be the one to break the news. “Lady Kirigan got hurt somehow between the attack” Ivan told him.

“Hurt? H-How what-How bad?“ Aleksander asked not wanting to know the answer.

“It wasn’t mentioned in the letter.” Ivan took a pause before continuing. “They came with spears and axe and we were outnumbered.”

Aleksander felt like he couldn’t move, his rage was one thing but this was his family. They came to butcher them. He nodded staring outside at the camp getting himself to think straight. “Alright-I am going to go ahead and leave this second you gather everyone and leave soon enough.”

“Moi soverenyi.” Ivan bowed before leaving.

—

It was the dead of the night by the time Aleksander reached the little palace. He didn’t stop anywhere from the camp and his horse sure ran faster than it had ever. Reaching there he walked through the sound entrance through the garden-ways and the corridors had never seemed so long and endless.

Finally he could see her chamber doors and paced over there. Genya and some maids standing there looked at him approaching with heavy footsteps.

“Where is she?” He asked impatiently.

“The healers are still seeing to her.” Genya replied for the rest of them.

“How long has It been?”. Aleksander inquired again.

“They’ve been in there since sundown.” Her tone was morose as she looked at the closed chamber doors.

Aleksander himself was faced with answers he wasn’t looking for the entire day. This wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t leave in the first place he thought to himself. “Eric? I want to see him.”

“He’s asleep, Nadia’s with him.” Their attention was averted quickly by the large door they were standing by opening from the inside.

The healer didn’t say a word but gestured them to come inside. Aleksander was the first one to step in. The other healer was still by y/n bedside seeing to a wound on her forehand as she laid unconscious. Aleksander felt uneasy just to walk further. He feared to take a proper look at her, her bloody clothes on the floor, one healer collecting all the blood dripping washcloths it didn’t bring him the slightest relief.

Gathering that gut he finally walked to her bedside. Y/n had a frown across her face and her eyes yet shut, she was struggling to breath he could hear her huffs to draw in air. She made little agitated sounds hence she wasn’t entirely unconscious.

He sank down slowly sitting on the edge of the bed and looked up facing the healers who everyone amongst genya were eagerly looking forward to what they had to say. “When do you think she’d wake up?” Aleksander asked in a hushed tone.

The healers passed an awkward troubled looked amongst themselves until one of the came forward to speak “Moi soverenyi.” She bowed and continued “Lady Kirigan lost a lot of blood-she was—stabbed, twice and we tried everything we could, to keep her stable but her condition weakened she’s alright for now and-" the healer casted her look lower trying hard to find words.

“There isn’t an easier way to say this but she might not survive if she doesn’t make it through the night.” The healer confronted. Hearing that Aleksander’s heart dropped to his feet. He couldn’t make sense what the healer said. It all was all feeling like one never ending nightmare while he was wide awake.

“We are going to be right down the hall just call us-it’s going to be one long night.” The healer said looking at y/n.

“No she’ll survive I know-she would. She would be alright.” Aleksander said nodding his head slightly he couldn’t look away from y/n. Genya observed his tone sounded more like he was trying to convince himself she would survive and honestly that is what everyone was telling themselves. But it was different since it came from the general they had never seen him like this, he had never been like this! In other circumstances he would be plotting a revenge right now. Strolling around in the war room but no, he was afraid. This time he was afraid. Afraid to loose her. He couldn’t, not just yet. Not another barbaric joke by the saints. “I’ll stay here, you could all go and see to the others arriving. I’m going to stay with her.” Aleksander spoke not even looking at anyone’s face.

Genya was just as aghast with what the healers said. There was no courtesy ever mentioned in any book that could explain what she could say right now. “Summon for me if anything happens.” She said out of words before turning to leave.

Aleksander was left alone with her in that large room his head for spiralling with guilt. He didn’t even want to picture what it would be like if she didn’t make it through the night. Would her last words to him would be where she begged him not to go, not to do it. She cried giving him another chance. Another chance the hundredth time yet he was blind enough to push it away.

He held the back of her hands gently in his, thinking he should’ve done this ages ago. The day when she walked down that aisle in a crowded room with a beautiful dress, he remembered being uninterested and casted glances that way but she looked beautiful, she looked content. She did gave everything to their marriage from the start, clutching her father’s hand tightly she seemed anxious but couldn’t stop smiling the entire time. Thinking back to it now he let out a dejected huff in a mocking to himself of how simply it was all handed to him and how simply he tore it apart.

He had this claimed unlikeness towards her because she wasn’t like him. Because she wasn’t like the rest of them there. He had been wrong, the entire time. She was more human than he had ever been or showed. She wasn’t some mortal life obliged to have the title of his wife whom he never seemed to notice she is the books by her nightstand, she is the songs she hums to their son, she is the laughs she shares with genya secretly at dinner parties and hopes no one heard them, tears she cried, the sharp tongue she has, poems she reads to Eric. Everything. Everything about her. She has always held such beauty which he forced himself not to look at because of the version he made of her in his mind. Fool.

Tears stung his eyes and he couldn’t stop them from flowing anymore. He took y/n’s hand in both his hands, kissing them softly he muttered an “I’m sorry” under his breath. He felt guilty for all of this, he thought about never forgiving himself if Eric were to grow up without her. Aleksander wanted to hug her tightly if only for once, he wanted to apologise he wanted to let her know he cared. He forced himself into thinking he didn’t. This was probably not the saints anymore maybe it was his turn to suffer the sorrow of unnamed longing?

Aleksander had never wanted it to stopper getting darker and darker before. It was like the time had stopped and every hour it felt it moved backwards. He would check y/n’s nerves again and again. Replace the cloth on her head, hold her rubbing her back whenever her temperature seemed to have differed.

He sat through it. He sat through the entire night next to her and her silent whimpers it pained him to see her suffering and his inability to do anything.

At last the endless night seemed to have been defeated. The bright sun rays entered their room partially and he could say it was the best sunrise he had ever seen. Soon after he called on the healers while they worked. It didn’t take them much to conclude, “Lady Kirigan’s doing better. She’s out of danger.” the healer let out a content sigh while the other smiled whispering a prayer.

Aleksander felt like weight had been lifted off of his shoulder. “She could wake up any time now” the healer replied before Aleksander could ask the same.

Genya joined the room a little later she looked at the healers for her response “She’s alright. She’s going to be safe.” Aleksander replied for them. He felt like announcing it to everyone himself.

“We need to change her binds if you could—” the healer turned to Aleksander. He nodded slightly planning to come back just the second they’d be done and inform Ivan and the rest about her condition.

Genya stayed with the healer and the maids helping them change her coverings. They sat her upright gently to change her into another silk robe when y/n’s eyes fluttered. A groan escaped her mouth reaching the pillow again.

“Lady Kirigan?” The healer asked her calmly to see if she could follow her voice waking up.

Genya went closer beside the healer as y/n opened her eyes much, much relief to everyone in the room. Y/n didn’t remember it being dawn, or being in her chambers, or covered in bandages she blinked her eyes gaining consciousness. “Eric. Eric? Where is he?” She asked worriedly looking around the room.

“He is fine. Nothing happened to him-he is alright I assure you, you need to rest.” Genya said immediately even before y/n attempted to sit up on her own.

“No. I want to see him-“ she said trying to sit up against what Genya just said.

“You were hurt badly I advice you not to do that.” The healer said placing her hands on y/n’s shoulders placing her on the bed gently.

“I’ll call General Kirigan.” The maid said to Genya before taking leave out of the room.

“General Kirigan?” Y/n asked Genya immensely confused.

“He arrived here last night.” Genya told her sitting to y/n’s side.

“Didn’t he leave just yesterday? What’s he doing here?” Y/n said slowly so the healer won’t hear her.

“We sent a letter to his camp about the attack yesterday-you got wounded really bad. He stayed here with you the entire night.”

Y/n was having a hard time comprehending that. She didn’t find it strange he came back, the drüskelle attacked his home. But he stayed with her? Why? Did he wanted to gloat the other day about how fragile mortal lives are? Did he want to vex her on how careless she had been? She already started imaging his taunts in his voice.

“My head hurts.” she said in a muffled way facepalming herself.

“Y/n?” Aleksander’s voice rang with his loud footsteps before he even appeared in front of the doorframe. Here he comes.

Y/n and Genya both turned to look at him at the same time and he stopped in his tracks by the entrance. He looked at her as though he saw her for the first time.

Aleksander walked inside as Genya stood up, much inconvenience to y/n, she greeted both of them an exit and left. She was left alone with Aleksander now. Only if she had any idea how hard last night was for him-for both of them but not much remembrance to her. Y/n didn’t have anything to say to him, she was past all the arguments and crying. She wanted to be past all that.

“Are you alright?” Not the tone and words she was expecting from Aleksander.

She joined her lips inwards and nodded in response.

“I am glad you are-glad you are better.” So many words he wanted to say, so many words he wanted to say this exact moment. Words just betrayed his feelings by being lost.

“Genya told me you stayed with me the entire night?” She asked curious, knowing anytime those taunts would start.

This time he sat by the side of her bed again where he was holding her hand last night. He nodded and began “We thought-we’d almost lost you last night.” I almost lost you last night. The first time he met her glance ever since she woke up.

Realisation struck y/n-he wasn’t there to provoke or irritate—no he was frightened. He seemed to be. He didn’t show it, he didn’t want y/n to see it but she did always catch the unsaid things. It felt unreal that he cared. That he would’ve wanted to stay.

“I assume it’s clever to say you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Y/n joked as Aleksander huffed looking down. If only all dawns to come would bring just her jokes and her sound presence.

—

A few days went by with y/n’s new diet, bed rest and everything healer’s prescribed for her recovery. All quite the bore for her but Aleksander made sure she’d follow them strictly against how stubborn she was. He almost didn’t leave her alone, whenever he wasn’t around her he was looking after Eric. Not that he had let the answer for the attack go swayed away. He attended a few meetings and laid plans with grisha officials and later left Ivan to fill in for him.

He had to start somewhere to make amends and it wasn’t that hard. He had planned for defence and wars one after another for so long. But for once planning what they’re going to do with the fake culprit when he played pretend games with Eric felt nicer. It wasn’t buried or pushed away that he cares for y/n now. He knew it when it felt like all the stars had aligned to see her smile and to care for something other than just another battle or his own plans or the future. The time seemed perfect in now.

The sun had begun to sank below the horizon not gone altogether but the orange-yellow evening shade still lingered on. Y/n had Eric’s stuff moved into her room, she’d wanted him to be in the same radius as her. Paranoid with the attack. Aleksander too suggested the same for himself, he’d insisted on having another bed made for him but y/n shrugged it off, she didn’t mind him sharing a bed with her saying he was around the entire day either ways.

Y/n sat up in her bed reading one of her books while Aleksander sat across the room with Eric in his lap, he was reading something to him a while ago. Y/n looked up to see why the constant giggles had stopped. Eric had buried his head in his father’s arms and Aleksander’s hand had the book he was reading earlier swinging slightly. Eric seemed to be fast asleep snuggling in Aleksander’s arms. Aleksander too had his eyes shut but his brows were slightly joined together. He didn't seem to be entirely asleep but the sight was very pleasant y/n felt like stopping the time if only for a while. She caught herself thinking if it was really so bad to want this? Want him? It was in fact an awaited and welcomed presence every time Aleksander was around, even if only for the fact that she was wounded she believed. Probably some other reason she wanted to believe.

Y/n moved proceeding to get out of the bed as a groan escaped her lips feeling her stitches get pressed. Alarmed, Aleksander opened his eyes finding y/n struggling out of the bed. Instantly he placed Eric in his crib to the side gently and rushed to y/n.

“You’ve been told not to do that.” He scolded in a silent tone.

“I can stand up by myself.” Y/n shrugged off as she felt another sharp pain by her wound making an attempt to stand up.

“Clearly” he scoffed getting a proper hold of her hand, helping her stand up.

“I was just going to go for a walk in the gardens, I’ve been rotting in bed for quite a while now.” Y/n told him limping outside to the adjoining garden.

He walked beside her with one hand interlocking their fingers to help her walk and the other supporting her back.

They walked taking small and slow steps outside so that y/n could keep up. Neither spoke anything for a while until some wooden cross bows on the grass stopped them on their path.

Aleksander bent to move them aside still not letting go off her hand, “Is that pair yours?” She chuckled softly.

“Ah Eric and I were playing a little game this afternoon while you were asleep.” He admitted continuing to walk alongside her.

“Yes I did hear your ‘Archers Nock arrows!’ ‘Hold fast’.” Y/n said mocking his voice. Aleksander joined her laugher in response, looking at her as she continued “Back at home when I was younger I had a wooden playing sword and I would force my brothers to have a duel with me. Eventually I’d loose and later start to cry and throw a tantrum so we’d have another go at it where they would let me win intentionally.” She laughed amused by the end. There was something about whenever she mentioned her home that made her a different kind of happy he smiled looking at her let out a laugh that isn’t suppressed.

“Always had it in you for the dramatics I take it?” He bantered receiving narrowed eyes from y/n.

“Harsh.” She replied laughing despite herself.

“Do you miss it?”

“-Miss what?”

“Your home, your people?”

“I do all the time but you get used to it after a while.” She replied flashing a short smile.

“I get why you must hate me” Aleksander huffed in irony looking down and continued “I took all that away from you and I couldn’t give a home here, with me.”

Y/n felt silent hearing that. He acknowledged that? “I don’t-I don’t entirely hate you. I know what I said that day but I know you wanted to make this better, want to make this better” it was more of a hesitant sentence for y/n to say out loud “You are trying to be a good father for Eric I see it everyday and it’s nice actually-if you’re around—if he has you around.” She continued.

Inhaling sharply Aleksander turned to y/n taking both her hands in his he still didn’t bare to look up at her “It took me almost to have lost you to realise how much you mattered to me-that day when the attack happened the healers said if you couldn’t make it through the night you wouldn’t be alive and that night I thought of all the things I didn’t say to you, all the things I missed, all the things I should’ve been there for-and I knew I would have never forgiven myself if you had—if I had lost you forever.”

“Aleksander” she murmured wanting to get him to look at her.

“And I don’t want it-I don’t want any of it the sun summoner or any future that doesn’t have you in it-I don’t want a dawn to rise when you’re not there—none of it matters if not for you.” Aleksander cupped her face in both his hands “Y/n, I love you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she was overwhelmed by the feelings that took over with what he said, y/n placed her hands on top of his gently “I would like that-I would like that for the both of us. To wake up next to you each day but what you said it’s a lot for me to take in and-I can’t love you the way you want me to, the way I used to. But I want to! I want to love you-nothing would make me happier than that.” She replied to him smiling as their faces leaned closer finally her lips landing onto his, Aleksander kissed her back quickly and leaned back to watch her face before brushing his lips on hers again briefly. He felt like never wanting to let go until she broke the kiss gasping for air. They rested their forehead against each other, Aleksander holding her close by her waist as she looked at him for a short moment to say “We will be alright.”

—

An: HELLO I hope y’all enjoyed this it took the life out of me to finish this and I am NOT making this into a series—my thinking capacity ends here pls🧑‍🦯

Tags 🏷: @lazycherri @softieekayy @shitpostrandomness @itzzzzcookie @navs-bhat @ladyblablabla @lady-kirigan @bruxa0007 @s1xthirty @haileythenerd @moonlightstuffs @aleksandersshadow @misselsbells06 @millies0bsimp @prongsbxtch @skyfallingstartaylorsversion @sithapprentice @lollipop-feelings @chicken-fifi @gretavankleep37 @bluehydrangea-cherry @a--dedicated--fangirl Let me know if you want to be added or removed in my general Kirigan tag list and if you’re reading this go drink water xx

[alyswritings]

New People

Request: Hello!! I wanted to ask you if you wanted to do a fit where Anthony already has a child, like a toddler or young kid, mother died or left them, and I know it would have been scandalous in those times but whatever I don't know, anyways it could be like Kate finding out about them and then her meeting Kate and Edwina like at the beginning of s2, and its just cute?

Anthony Bridgerton x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N meets the Sharma family.

Warnings: none

a/n: thank you for the request! kind of got carried away and made it longer with more stuff lol hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

Five years ago is when Anthony Bridgerton's life changed forever. The woman he was courting ended up pregnant and gave birth to a baby girl -- his baby girl.

Anthony insisted that they must avoid the scandal and the mother to be should go into hiding or at the very least leave town -- but she did not. People quickly learned that the baby was Anthony's and everybody went crazy.

The Bridgerton family faced some backlash and Anthony and Allison had agreed to marry given the circumstances. Allison demanded a long engagement and Anthony respected that.

The week they were due to marry, Allison gave birth and Y/N was born. Anthony felt an overwhelming sense of happiness and protectiveness from the first moment he held his newborn child.

The wedding was pushed back a few days, but before it could commence, Allison had run out of town.

Leaving Anthony and Y/N on their own -- along with the rest of the Bridgertons, of course.

Anthony did his best and got as much help as he could from his mother and siblings who often offered to watch the baby for him, knowing of his busy work.

Whispers would go around the first two or so years of Y/N's life anytime she was around other people. Whispers that Anthony did his best to protect her from.

Eventually the talk finally stopped for the most part, leaving the Bridgerton family in peace. Even though there was still an occasional look or two.

- - -

The Sharmas and Lady Danbury arrive at the Bridgerton home, the large family exiting to come and greet them.

"Now, the only reason to endure such a journey is to see my great-godson." Lady Danbury states, taking Augie from Violet.

Y/N stays glued to her Aunt Eloise and two oldest uncles while Violet, Daphne, and the youngest two Bridgerton siblings greet Lady Danbury and two of the Sharmas and fawn over Daphne's baby. The third Sharma straying a bit, after curtsying to the family, and she observes the house.

Anthony goes over to Kate, the two sharing small conversation.

"Papa! Papa." Y/N rushes over to her dad and yanks on his waistcoat.

"Y/N, do not tug." Anthony reprimands, lightly grabbing her hands and making her let go.

"Sorry." Y/N says.

"Papa?" Kate questions.

"Yes. Um... Miss Sharma, this is my daughter, Y/N." Anthony introduces. "Y/N, this is Miss Sharma."

Y/N turns to the unfamiliar woman who seems shocked.

"Hi." Y/N smiles at her.

"Hello." Kate greets. "I was not aware you had a child." She says to Anthony.

"Yes, right. I... well, I had mentioned it to your sister at the horse races." Anthony says.

"It must've slipped her mind when we were reminiscing of the day." Kate says.

"Must have." Anthony says.

"Doggy." Y/N points to the animal.

"You may pet him if you like." Kate tells her.

Y/N looks at Anthony who nods. Y/N goes over to the dog and gently pets him, the dog gladly accepting the affection. Anthony frowns, slightly offended the dog likes her but not him.

"Ah, as I said. Excellent judge of character." Kate smirks.

"I'll give him that one, I suppose." Anthony mutters, forcing a smile.

"And you must be Miss Edwina." Daphne walks up.

"No." Anthony denies. "This is her sister. Miss Kate Sharma."

"Ah. Forgive me, Miss Sharma." Daphne says.

"I am entirely flatted, Your Grace." Kate smiles, curtsying. "Allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Edwina." Edwina walks over and she curtsies to Daphne.

"It is an honor, Your Grace." Edwina says. Daphne smiles.

"Miss Edwina, I am pleased to introduce you to Aubrey Hall." Anthony says.

"It is a beautiful home. Thank you for inviting us. I very much look forward to spending time with you and your family." Edwina says.

The four adults' gazes turn to the side after hearing a giggle, looking to find Newton licking Y/N's face. Anthony grimaces in disgust slightly, walking over and helping Y/N to her feet.

"Miss Edwina, I am even more pleased to introduce you to my daughter. Y/N." Anthony says, gently lying his hands on the young girl's shoulders, the child smiling up at Edwina. "Y/N, this is Miss Edwina Sharma."

"Hi." Y/N smiles at her.

"Hello, Y/N." Edwina crouches so she's at a more even level with the girl. "You are very beautiful."

"Thank you." Y/N shyly says, ducking her head as an attempt to hide her red cheeks.

"I look forward to getting to know you." Edwina tells her, kindly smiling at her. Y/N simply nods, not certain of how to respond.

- - -

The oldest five Bridgerton siblings and the two Sharma sisters are preparing to go outside with the mothers and Lady Danbury, the seven young adults ready to play pall mall.

"But I wanna play." Y/N whines.

"I know, dearest, but you are too young. Besides there are only seven mallets and there are already seven of us playing. And the mallets are heavy and taller than you." Anthony states making Y/N pout.

"So can I watch?" Y/N asks.

"Wouldn't you much rather stay in here with your Aunt Hyacinth and Uncle Gregory? Spend time with Cousin Augie?" Anthony asks and Y/N shakes her head.

"I wanna spend time with you." Y/N tells him.

"All right then." Anthony says, picking her up and holding her on his hip.

"I still want to play." Y/N says.

"Well, you can't right now. But how about you and I play it by ourselves later." Anthony suggests, a small smile gracing his face. Y/N grows an excited grin, vehemently nodding her head making Anthony chuckle.

Neither noticed the way that both Sharma sisters were watching the interaction with soft smiles.

- - -

After a while, Edwina had quit the pall mall game after her ball went out of bounds. She joined the mothers, Y/N, and Lady Danbury at the pavilion. Y/N went up to her, standing next to her chair.

"You're spending time with my papa, right?" Y/N asks.

"Yes. Yes, I am." Edwina answers, smiling gently at the girl.

"Do you like reading?" Y/N asks.

"I love to read." Edwina states.

"Papa tries to read to me, but he's too busy so Aunt Ellie does it a lot." Y/N says.

"Oh, well, I'm certain he tries his best." Edwina says and Y/N nods. "What books do you enjoy?"

The two continue to converse about books and then whatever comes to Y/N's mind, Edwina enjoying getting to know her possible future stepdaughter.

- - -

After the young adults finished their game and Anthony and Edwina spent some time together discussing their lives and Edwina telling him about books she's read, Anthony soon found Y/N.

"Love?" Anthony calls, getting the young girl's attention away from her Uncle Gregory. "There's some spare time before supper. If you would still like to play a game of pall--"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Please. Yes." Y/N immediately jumps up, bouncing with excitement. Anthony chuckles at her reaction.

"Very well then." Anthony says, taking her hand, the two going outside.

Anthony grabs the black mallet.

"Which one would you like?" Anthony asks the girl.

Y/N points to the mint green one and Anthony picks it out.

"All right, now, you line the mallet up with the ball." Anthony puts his mallet down. He stands behind Y/N, helping her hold the mallet.

"It's heavy." Y/N says, looking at the mallet that goes a few inches above her head.

"I told you so." Anthony says. "Still want to play?" He asks and Y/N nods. "Okay. Line it up and aim for that hoop." He instructs, stepping back a few feet so she can do it herself. Y/N swings the mallet to the greatest of her ability, the ball rolling close to the hoop, but failing to reach it.

"That's all right, darling. There's more rounds." Anthony says.

He lines up his ball and goes to swing, but remembers he probably should not be his usual competitive self when playing against his five year old daughter -- who is not competitive unless she knows how to play the game.

Anthony swings the mallet, letting his ball roll, stopping a few inches away from Y/N's ball.

"See? Neither of us got it in." Anthony says.

"I thought you said you were the best at this game." Y/N says.

"Yes, well... it seems I am having an off day." Anthony says.

From the doors, Kate, Edwina, their mother, and Violet watch the father and daughter play the game.

"They're adorable." Edwina comments.

"Yes. Yes, Anthony is very good to her." Violet states.

"Well, I suppose being a good father counts for something." Kate says, still trying to dislike the man.

- - -

After supper, everybody is tending to their own things and Y/N goes up to Kate who is sitting by the fireplace.

"Do you like reading?" Y/N asks her.

"I suppose so, yes, I do." Kate answers.

"Can you read this?" Y/N asks.

"Oh. Well, wouldn't you much rather one of your aunts or uncles read it? Or your father or grandmother?" Kate asks.

"Papa is working and grandmother is with Lady Danbury. I can't find Aunt Ellie or Uncle Colin, Aunt Daphne is tending to Cousin Augie, Uncle Benny is drawing, and Aunt Hyacinth and Uncle Gregory are playing and arguing with each other."

"I suppose I could then." Kate relents, smiling at the young girl. Y/N holds the book out to her and Kate takes it. Y/N sits next to her, waiting patiently for Kate to begin reading which she soon does so.

- - -

"And now you are all settled." Anthony says, tucking Y/N into bed.

"Thank you." Y/N says.

"Of course, Y/N." Anthony smiles at her. "Good night, my love."

"Night, papa." Y/N yawns making Anthony softly smile. He kisses her on the temple as she closes her eyes, quickly falling asleep.

Anthony leaves the room, quietly shutting the door.

"You're very good with her." Edwina comments, smiling gently at the man.

"Thank you." Anthony smiles. "She is... well, she is my pride and joy."

"She's a lovely little girl." Edwina compliments.

"I will agree to that statement." Kate says.

"Thank you. She definitely gets that from one of her aunts." Anthony says.

"Oh, most definitely." Kate agrees making Anthony force a fake smile, Kate returning one.

"If I may ask... what happened to her mother?" Edwina asks.

"Oh. Well, um... she left. Shortly after Y/N was born." Anthony informs.

"Oh. I'm so sorry." Edwina says.

"No, no, it's quite alright. I understand the curiosity and you didn't know. It's just been me and her the entirety of her life. But hopefully I can find her a lovely new mother some day." Anthony says, smiling at Edwina who smiles back.

[violetarks]

stay away from toman?

anime: tokyo revengers

character: ryuguji 'draken' ken

summary: takemichi discovers why his older sister was so adamant on avoiding toman when he and y/n bump into mikey and draken on their way home from school.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns, first person pov

"Take', hurry up!" I whisper harshly, squatting down beside my brother, who is currently putting on his shoes to go home, "Why do you take so freaking long just to do some shoelaces?"

Takemichi glances up to me, making a face as he continues to tie his laces. "What're you rushing me for?" He grumbles out, furrowing his brows.

I retort, crossing my arms over my chest with my bag over my shoulder, "I wanna' go home, I got... like, homework 'n shit to do." I look away once he gives me a suspicious look.

Ever since the start Takemichi told me he was a part of Toman, I've either been rushing him home when he doesn't have plans, or flat out ignoring him in public when he mentions he has business to take care of.

Most of the time, he dismisses it but recently, Take' has taken up a new 'alter ego' or something. Now, he's more concerned with what I'm doing and where I am, as if he was the older sibling out of us two. Although, I've gotten used to the switching.

"Well, you could always go without me, Y/N." He says, standing up and checking his shoes. He grabs his bag from beside him. "I'd rather walk with Hina than my sister."

Faking a gasp, I slap his arm before we exit the building. "Wow, you're such an ass." I sigh, frowning at him as I hold onto my bag strap, "To make it up to me, you're gonna' have to buy me ice candy."

My brother groans, checking for his wallet in his bag, "Why the Hell do I have to always pay for things when you get annoyed?" Take' says, pulling out cash.

"Because you annoy me and have to pay for it." I respond, feeling excited to get the treat, "And plus, I always buy you stuff when I upset you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

He goes to refute it but instead his eyes land on a few bikes parked across the street. Takemichi then looks over to me. "Hey, Y/N, you're cool with me being a part of a gang, right?" He questions.

I furrow my brows. "Um... We've had this conversation before, haven't we?" I say, tilting my head as we both cross the street, "I'm fine with it, Take', just as long as you don't do anything unnecessary. No fighting if not needed."

He nods his head at me, looking at the ground as we walk on the pavement. I blink at him. No snarky remark.

I elbow his side. "If you come home with another bleeding cheek, I will beat you the fuck up, okay?" I joke, giving a smile as Takemichi chuckles along with me.

"Then, if you're okay with it, do you want to meet everyone?" He questions, making me widen my eyes.

I stop, waving my hands at my brother frantically. "Uh, no, no, no, no!" I tell him, shaking my head as my brother looks back to me, "I don't wanna' meet anyone from the Manji gang! I'm—I'd rather just not be associated at all..."

Takemichi blinks at me for a second before awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. He giggles out, "Geez, are you that scared of them? They're really not as bad as you think."

I rub the back of my neck and mumble quietly, "I know that myself."

We enter the shop and Takemichi goes straight for the snack aisle. He says, looking to me over his shoulder, "You know? Well then it should be fine. I know that you being my sister would immediately cause problems if there were people after me... for whatever reason." I furrow my brows at him. "I just want to know you'd be safe if that ever happens. And the commander could do that."

I blink at my brother as I open the freezer. "Hey, I'm fine, Takemichi. You act like it wasn't me getting you out of trouble. You can only kinda' punch because of me." I laugh, grabbing the ice candy I wanted. I tap my bicep a few times. "And look, I've got muscle. I'm a unit."

Takemichi laughs at me before shrugging his shoulders. "Just want to make sure you're safe, is all." He tells me. I give a reassuring smile.

We head to the cashier and pay for our things. Takemichi takes care of my ice candy and I had bought him two boxes of chocolate. One for him and another for Hina, since they have a date scheduled for tomorrow. I'm sure my brother is really excited for that.

We exit the store, going back on our way home. I begin to eat my ice candy when Tachimichi bumps into someone in front of us.

"I'm sorry, I—" He begins with stiff shoulders. But then, he relaxes. "Mikey? What're you doing here?"

What? Fuck no.

I side step my brother, getting a view of the blonde with a half up, half down hairstyle. I bite my lip, seeing how Mikey hasn't noticed me yet. The said guy waves his hand with a smile. "Takemitchy! Me and Kenny are grabbing some food. I got kinda' hungry after this morning's riot."

'Takemitchy'? 'This morning's riot'?

What?

I furrow my brows at my brother retorts, "Oh, right. Well, we're just on our way home."

Then, Mikey looks to me. He lights up, a smirk on his lips as he speaks, "Oh? Takemitchy, going around with another girl? You devil." He's just playing around, I can tell by the way he says it. He gives me a knowing look.

Takemichi waves his hands frantically, shaking the bag of chocolates. "Oh, no, no, no, I'm still with Hina and Hina only!" He states, loudly at that fact, "This is Y/N, my sister. Y/N, this is Mikey, Toman's commander."

I try to act surprised, widening my eyes at the two of them. Mikey holds out a hand to me. "It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He says, closed eye smile.

Bowing, I retort, "It's nice to meet you too, Mikey." It's the nerves running through me that makes me act like that. Why did I have to bump into him now? With my brother?

I feel a gentle chop against the top of my head. "Wow, you really are Takemitchy's sister." He laughs out, tilting his head at me as I stand up straight. I give him a squinted eye look. "You're the same age as me, and if you're related to him, then you're cool with me. No need to bow to me if you aren't a part of my crew." The last part is accompanied by sarcasm.

I nod my head once before exhaling slowly. "I'm going to head home now." I tell my brother, giving a reassuring look when he furrows his brows, "You can hang out with Mikey." I give a pointed look to my friend.

Just as I pass Mikey, ice candy in my mouth and I turn to continue on my way, I bump into someone else. I step back, balancing myself and my food to look up to the pers—

Okay, no.

No.

I immediately walk around him, pulling my hoodie down over my head and walking a little faster.

"Y/N?" I hear him say, making me stop.

I groan internally, closing my eyes and pushing my hoodie off my head. Turning around, I give a sweet smile to the three of them, now looking to me. "Hi, Ryuguji. Um... how are you?" I mutter out, tilting my head.

Ken squints at me, looking a little annoyed. "The fuck are you calling me 'Ryuguji' for?" He asks, tilting his head at me.

I notice the way my brother looks confused, and how Mikey is smiling and having the time of his life at the moment. I huff, rubbing the back of my neck, "Well, uh, that's your name, isn't it?"

Ken deadpans, walking closer to me with a raised brow, "Yeah, it is, but you don't call me by my last name." The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats as I switch my gaze from Ken to Mikey and my brother, then back to Ken.

His hand gently takes hold of my chin, making me look to him. "You alright?" He asks, overlooking my face as I stare at him. He runs his fingers up to caress my cheek. "Did something happen?"

I hear Mikey giggle out, "Oh, Kenny, what are you doing with Takemitchy's sister?" He puts emphasis on 'sister', which makes Ken widen his eyes at me and look over to Mikey and my brother.

His hand drops from my cheek as he turns. "What the Hell are you talking about?" He scoffs to Mikey, eyes landing on Takemichi, "She's not your sister." He seems to get side tracked, grabbing my ice candy and eating it for himself.

Bitch?

Takemichi takes offense, tilting his head at me. He says, "I think I'd know who my sister is, Draken." He walks closer before Mikey stops him, "Uh—How do you even know her?"

Ken looks back at me, raised brow. I look away immediately, hand behind my back as I continue to eat my ice candy I was handed back. He then stands beside me, arm going around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. I'm about to say something when Ken turns me.

I give a small yelp, my face now in Ken's chest as he wraps his arms around my back. I hear Mikey whistle and Takemichi give a sound of surprise. He huffs, "Take a guess, Takemitchy. How do you think I know your sister?"

I feel my face burn. At this point, I know for a fact that Ken is just trying to prove a point here. But that doesn't stop my brother from saying, "D—Draken! You might wanna' let go of her, Y/N's boyfriend might see and get upset."

Jesus Christ.

I internally facepalm at my brother. Oh God.

Ken laughs at that, chest rumbling against my face, "Oh, really? Your boyfriend, huh, Y/N?" I look up from my spot, clenching my jaw and squinting at him. Ken was having fun. He smirks at me. "Should I be worried? Is he scary? Will he kick my ass if I kiss you?"

I pinch his side, making him roll his eyes and release me. I fix my shirt and skirt before turning to Mikey and Takemichi.

"How've you been, Y/N?" Mikey questions, walking closer to us with Take' following behind, "It's been a while since I've talked to you. Kenny steals all your attention nowadays."

I retort, "You expect me to prioritise you over Ken?"

Take' gasps when he hears me say Ken's name.

Mikey shrugs his shoulders before Takemichi takes hold of mine, shaking me frantically. "Y/N, what the Hell is going on? How do you know these guys? You said you wanted to stay away from Toman!"

"'Stay away from Toman'?" Mikey and Ken both say.

I hold onto Takemichi's arms, stopping him from moving me. "Listen to me carefully, little brother." I say, looking serious, "Remember how I told you that my boyfriend was intimidating, and I didn't want to introduce you two because of that?"

He slowly nods his head. I then point to Ken. "Do you think Draken is intimidating?" I ask, to which Takemichi nods his head slowly, "Then you know why I didn't want to meet Toman."

He squints at me for a second before I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look over to see Mikey. "Wanna' come with us now that it's sorted out?" He asks, pointing to the shop we were just in, "Have lunch with us! I wanna' see how this all plays out."

Mikey makes his way inside before I can answer. I look back to my brother. "I'm dating Draken... okay?" I mumble out.

Takemichi takes a deep breath in, looking between me and Ken behind me. He sighs out to himself, "I guess I messed something up and now you're dating Draken..."

I furrow my brows. He then sees me and shakes his head. "Uh! I mean, I—I think that's fine! Draken is... strong. He'll protect you. That's... That's great news, Y/N." He states, nodding to Ken. There's a genuine tone in his voice. Like he's incredibly happy.

"Oh... you're taking this better than I expected." I say, pulling away from my brother, "I kinda' thought you'd freak out and tell me that Ken gets into too many fights."

I hear Ken scoff from behind me, "Excuse me."

I brush it off, patting Takemichi on the top of his head. "Well, I guess we can do lunch." I say, seeing my brother nod, "Thanks, Takemichi."

He gives me a soft grin. "It's alright, Y/N." He tells me, following Mikey inside.

I turn around to see Ken crossing his arms over his chest, looking irritated once again. "What?" I hum, raising a brow.

He pinches my cheek, making me click my tongue. "Why didn't you tell you were Takemitchy's sister, huh?" He complains, tilting his head at me, "And why the Hell didn't you tell him who your boyfriend was when you found out he was a part of Toman?"

I hold onto his wrist as he lets go of me. "Because I didn't want you grilling my brother." I state, pouting at him a little, "Take' knows things about me that I'd be embarrassed to tell you. He might've told our parents if he found out I was dating one of Tokyo's strongest gang members."

He smirks at me. I can't help but smile back at him. Ken retorts, "I'll let it go. And because of this, you're gonna' have to meet Toman."

I widen my eyes at him before sighing, following him to the store, "Fine... I haven't spoken to Mitsuya in a while." I slip my hand into his, squeezing it a little. "Does that mean I'm a gang member now?"

"No." He says sternly, entering the shop.

"Aw, how come?" I chuckle, tugging him to the freezer, "Remember when I slapped Mikey for entering the room I was changing in? His cheek was swollen for like, hours. I'm practically a threat to your boss."

He rolls his eyes at that, grabbing the same ice candy Take' had bought me before, which he stole. "Not much of a threat, baby." He claims, handing me the treat, "Pretty sure it was from me punching him that his cheek was swollen for."

"You have no evidence." I huff, walking to the cashier as Ken follows behind.

"I have plenty of evidence. Just ask Mikey." He tells me, paying for it. We exit the store, Ken looking around. "Damn, what's taking them so long?" He sits down, impatient look on his face.

I stand in front of him, in between his legs and holding the ice candy in between my lips. "It's Mikey. When he wants food, he goes bulk." I say, putting my hand in his when he holds it out, "At least now, I can hang out with you in public. No more sneaking around."

He frowns a little, pulling me closer. "But that was fun." He sighs out, "You only got caught like, twice. I'm so proud of you."

My cheeks heat up at the last statement before Ken finishes his ice candy, putting it in the bin beside him. "Well, you better be. It wasn't that easy. Takemichi kept waking up randomly in the middle of the night." I inform Ken.

I eat my ice candy, swallowing the part I had before Ken tugs me closer. Before I can ask, he leans up from his spot on the bench and presses his lips against mine. I'm a little surprised by it, but I eventually close my eyes and use my free hand to caress his cheek.

I can tell he's sinking into this. We haven't actually seen each other in maybe a week more. He's been held up with Toman business and I didn't want to be in the way. I've missed him, since texting is a downgrade to actually talking to him.

Ken keeps his grip on my hand, not letting me go. He's probably just as reluctant to let go as I am. But alas, breathing.

I pull away first, Ken dragging himself closer before he opens his eyes. He scans my face for a second before leaning back, a gentle blush over his cheeks. "Hey... missed you." He told me.

Feeling a rush of excitement after hearing that, I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Aw, aren't you cute?" I giggle, his arm curling at my waist, "I missed you too, Ken."

"Euh..." I hear someone say, "Am I gonna' have to get used to that?"

"Yeah. It's alright, they don't do it in front of the rest of the guys. Just the close ones." Another person says.

I pull away from Ken, hands resting on his shoulders as we turn to see Mikey and Takemichi. The commander is seating a pork bun and Take' is holding three bags full of snacks.

A little embarrassed, I look away and continue to eat my ice candy. "Do you regret being so cool about it now, Take'?" I joke, smiling at myself.

He retort, "Maybe a little bit. But at least now, you'll be safer in the future with Draken."

I feel Ken stand up, hands in his pockets. "Alright, let's get going before Mikey falls asleep."

[todoscript]

how he would ask you out

request: pls some headcanons of how the boys (shinsou/tamaki/shouto) would ask the girl they like out 🥺

characters: shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff

word count: 3.3k+ total, 900-1200 per character

tags: pining, confessions, fem!reader

author’s notes: sorry if this sounds rushed?? i can’t write 

copyright 2021 todoscript, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else.

SHINSOU HITOSHI

two years after his enrollment into the hero course, shinsou had finally came to terms with the feelings he’s been holding for you for quite some time now.

what began as just friendly encounters and kind gestures felt like something more to him. after all, you were one of the key people that led him to transition smoothly into the class, with your helpful demeanor and coming to his aid whenever he was stressed and troubled by the new environment.

you went out of your way to organize study sessions and small arrangements to mingle and get to know the other students better.

you reiterated to him that if he ever had any questions about anything, he could always come to you.

initially, shinsou thought he was being a burden—that he was just heavy baggage that tied you down.

however, you assured he was anything but, and stated that you were more than happy to help him, even going to say you enjoyed spending time and getting to learn more about him.

at your response, shinsou was appalled at how genuine you were.

appalled… but also very grateful.

eventually, there came a point when he realized there was no mistaking the affection he felt for you—not when he subconsciously noted every one of your habits and intricacies, able to tell whatever emotions were running through you at a simple glance, or when he would stop to admire the way you decided to style your hair differently or changed your look, thinking you seemed even more charming that day by the confidence you exude.

no, at that point, he’s sure it was painfully obvious. so obvious, in fact, that kaminari and mina had chosen to skip today’s group study session in favor of letting the two of you have your “alone time”. whatever that could mean.

shinsou had grimaced over their excuse of “being too busy that day” when you had told him the reasoning they gave you over text, despite knowing their next exam was only a couple days away. recalling just how nosy and enthusiastic they could get when involved in these kinds of affairs, he had an inkling of what exactly those two were planning. you, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to their schemes.

however, what did latch onto your mind was the thought of spending the day with only shinsou, in his very room, sitting across from each other with your textbooks open in front of you. though you should be more attentive to your studies, you couldn’t help the palpitations beating loudly in your chest and your wandering eyes that snuck glances at him after every question you answered.

unbeknownst to you, shinsou mirrored your actions all the same, reciprocating the flustered behavior, albeit a bit more subtly.

keep calm, hitoshi. why are you getting all worked up? he would say to himself, putting on his usual facade.

although he came off as relatively calm and collected on the outside, it’s difficult to keep his emotions in check when actions never lie.

that was especially true as he reached his hand out for the eraser you two were sharing between each other. with his eyes continuing to gander down at his notes, he hadn’t noticed that you were lunging for the same thing—not until your fingers had suddenly touched and you both pulled away at a speed equivalent to making contact with fire.

his stare unfaltering, shinsou was surprised to discern the embarrassed look on your face that immediately fixed itself as you rummaged through your pencil pouch. a second later, you pulled out another eraser, one that was notably smaller than the one you were sharing.

“um.. i’ll just use this,” you offered, and shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, the whole situation more awkward than it needed to be considering you never had any trouble sharing your supplies with each other before.

through some examination of your demeanor, shinsou had made a… bold enough claim, thinking that maybe—just maybe—you held the same kind of affections for him as he did for you.

it’s like he recalled earlier—actions never lie—and shinsou didn’t let the quiver of your lips or the intense concentration at your work to avoid meeting his gaze go past his head. that’s what spurred him to finally act on his desires.

without warning, he leaned forward on his seat to lay his hand over yours that caught your attention. you met his eyes, astonished to say the least, but more so concerned by how your eyes widened before you were about to open your mouth to ask him what was wrong.

the violet-haired male beats you to your words, voice resonating firmly, “y/n.”

you blinked. “y-yeah..?”

“i know this might be a bit late coming from me, but,” you could feel his hand tighten atop yours, “after exams, do you want to catch a movie together? just the two of us?”

shinsou fought the urge to look away, bashful at how he made his declaration for your time. the warmth surging under his skin was alleviated at the smile that slowly curled on your lips as you rotate your wrist, your palm touching his. the expression washing over your features told him you’ve been waiting for him to ask you this for a while now.

“i’d love to.”

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

ever a shy and introverted individual, tamaki has never had the heart to ask you out despite years of harboring a crush on you.

every time the thought had crossed his mind, he’d reason poorly with himself that you wouldn’t be interested in him in that way.

it didn’t help that his low self-esteem only deepened that thought that had now rooted itself in his brain.

at such a prestigious school like u.a., you were bound to find someone far more compelling than him—someone with guts, confidence, and great social skills. not a guy like him who conjures the image of potatoes at every anxiety-inducing encounter he comes across.

he was relieved enough to settle himself comfortably as just your friend—a title that allowed him to stay close and keep within your circle, all the while subjecting him to simply admiring you from afar.

but his eyes that held a hidden longing for more weren’t overlooked by a fellow student of his. or to be precise, the ever curious and free-spirited, hadou nejire.

always aware of his surroundings, it was hard not to notice that peculiar stare she’d aim at him during moments where he might’ve just finished speaking to you, or when you’d pass by and his head would naturally drift in your direction.

it was like she was picking apart every detail laid on him and it made tamaki absolutely restless.

tamaki’s suspicions and anxiety were later raised during one instance at the lunch table. he was at his usual seat next to his other big three companions, mirio and the aforementioned nejire, who was eyeing him with a gleam in her eye.

even with his self-consciousness, tamaki did his best not to pay any mind to the undesired attention and munched on his plate of takoyaki—the octopus nestled in the batter sure to come in handy later in training that day.

to his dismay, you passed by their table with your tray of food in hand, and nejire did not waste any time calling you over in that cheery tone of hers.

she invited you to sit down with them. you gave her invitation some thought before ultimately placing yourself in the free spot next to mirio, with nejire and tamaki already seated across from you.

the girl was all smiles and hums while tamaki was in a state of distress, both at his friend’s odd behavior, which was starting to spell trouble, to having you pulled into all of this. mirio was just being mirio, welcoming as always.

you greeted everyone at the table, making eye contact with mirio and nejire, but tamaki evaded your line of sight. he simply waved his reply without breaking away from his balls of takoyaki.

luckily for him, you didn’t give his lack of words much thought and started digging into your own lunch. it was then that nejire found it appropriate to start up a conversation.

“y’know, y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you this, from one girl to another,” she mused, finger waving around playfully, “are you interested in anyone here?”

upon hearing her question, tamaki almost choked on his bonito flakes, his cheeks puffed and eyes blown. meanwhile, your chewing slowed as you gave your answer some thought.

“uh… well–”

“i’d say fujita from class d is quite the looker! think you’d be interested in them?”

after swallowing the food in his mouth, tamaki began to subconsciously listen in on the conversation. he paid close attention to your responses with bated breath, a small part of him anticipating your answer highly.

“fujita’s nice and all, but i don’t think we’d really get along as a couple.”

tamaki mentally sighed, relief evident all over his face. it was then that mirio had started fitting the pieces together after watching his close friend’s brow wrinkle throughout the entire exchange before finally relaxing at your words. crossing his eyes with nejire’s only confirmed his suspicions as the girl sent him a wink.

as a friend, mirio wasn’t about to let nejire’s operations fall flat. getting up from his seat, he motioned tamaki to come with him.

“i heard they have extra yakisoba bread right now! we should go check it out!” he said as a guise to give the other two time to themselves, free from tamaki’s prying ears.

unaware that mirio had caught on so quickly, tamaki didn’t object to tagging along with him. mostly because he thought of this as an opportunity to get some fresh air and calm his racing heart, finally feeling the effects of the blood rushing to his face.

with tamaki supposedly out of earshot, nejire was free to go about her questions however she wanted.

“okay then, if not fujita, then who? there has to be someone, right?” the girl scooted further in her seat out of pure curiosity. “tell me, is it perhaps someone in our class?”

it was your turn to be stricken by her boldness. you tried picking at your food, stuffing it into your mouth to avoid answering, but nejire’s tenacity outmatched you.

finishing your lunch, you opened your mouth to speak, “actually, the person i’m interested in is pretty close to you…”

nejire feigned ignorance, innocently placing a finger under her chin. “who? mirio?”

“ah no, it’s tamaki, alright?!” you ended up blurting, voice hushed but frantic.

bingo. hearing exactly what she wanted, nejire returned to her original position, a triumphant grin plastered on her lips. replaying what you said out loud in your head, you buried your warm face in your hands.

unbeknownst to you, tamaki had ended up hearing the whole exchange around the corner coming back to their table as mirio lightly snickered at his revelation of an expression.

the blond patted his shoulder. “go on then, you know what to do.” he threw tamaki an encouraging thumbs-up.

the boy gulped in response before inhaling a deep breath of air to prepare himself for what would arguably be the most important yet stress-inducing moment of his life so far.

noticing you getting up to discard your tray, tamaki—through a final push from mirio—went to make his move.

hearing him suddenly call out to you, you were caught off-guard. after admitting to your crush on tamaki to nejire, you felt your cheeks get hot just seeing his face right afterward.

“oh hey, did you get your hands on those yakisoba breads?” you scraped up a way to start the conversation.

“right... that… mirio managed to get the last one in the cafeteria,” he answered. then he brought his hand to rub his elbow, fidgeting in his spot as he found it difficult to look you in the eyes again.

“tamaki? something wrong? are you upset that he got the last yakisoba bread?”

he shook his head. “no, i… it’s just… i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time now, but never had the courage to say it to you because i didn’t think you ever liked me that way. but…” he finally mustered the determination to face you head-on. “would you go out with me, y/n?”

at first, you were speechless—absent of words as you relayed his request in your mind over and over again. then, your eyes softened, lips easing into a smile as you reached out for his hand.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

it’s no surprise to many that when it came to asking someone out, todoroki didn’t exactly know the first thing to do.

mostly because he’s never asked anyone out to begin with.

you were the first person he’s ever felt these kinds of emotions for, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had been going through him when that root of infatuation had started to bloom inside him.

rather than sulk or contemplate on his thoughts for too long, he surmised it was best to simply come clean and ask for advice.

but when he confessed to what had been on his mind lately, he wasn’t expecting such a vigorous response from his friends.

“i’ve been thinking about asking y/n out.”

there was a layer of uncomfortable silence amongst the group before all hell eventually broke loose.

midoriya, uraraka, and iida immediately sprung from their seats in the common room, yelling “what?!” in unison. tsuyu and her frog-like mannerisms were more idle, but still surprised nonetheless.

todoroki was unfazed by their reactions, actually expecting it to go that way considering he’s never brought up any topics of that nature before. at the very least, he’s thankful he decided to say this when it was just the five of them. compared to what the whole class’s reaction would have been like, this was incredibly tame.

todoroki was used to always listening to what others had to say and never being the subject of the conversation when it came to dating.

but now things were different. he was openly admitting to them that he was regarding someone romantically. that he possibly sought a relationship with this someone—wanting to be committed to them and become the very best person he could be right next to them. to the four, this was coming completely out of left field.

after everyone simmered down and let the news sink in, the dual-haired boy resumed his thought,

“but i’m not sure how to do it.”

though the entirety of the group never had any experiences when it came to dating, they knew enough from media and pop culture to get an idea on how to help him. more than todoroki could imagine on his own anyway.

“i know! how about we go with the romantic and suave approach!” uraraka suggested. the rest asked her to elaborate.

“it’s simple! it starts by you leaving a note on her desk right before class, saying to meet you on the rooftop of the school! before the designated time, you should wait there for her with a bouquet of flowers, and then when she arrives, confess your feelings and ask her out!”

midoriya rubbed a finger against his cheek, skeptical. “i don’t think that sounds as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

tsuyu chimed in beside him. “those kinds of ideas usually only work well in books, ochako.”

pursing her lips, uraraka gave her plan a once-over, and realized it did seem a bit more involved and out of character than what todoroki was used to.

despite sharing a few more ideas with one another, they couldn’t narrow it down to any perfect one.

that was when iida clapped his hand, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

“alright, i think we’re starting to blow this whole ‘operation’ way out of proportion,” he said.

“if you’re honest about the way you feel about her and show it sincerely, i’m sure she’ll consider your feelings. you don’t have to do anything extravagant when it comes to asking someone out.”

listening throughout every word, todoroki nodded. meanwhile the other three were astonished that their class representative could be so whimsical when it came to romance, which in turn, iida was conflicted by. however, at the very least he was glad they could help out a friend. and so, todoroki went about his day with their discussion in mind.

he found that in many occurrences, whenever he crossed by you and thought of it as a chance to ask you out, there would always be someone to come in and take your time away. leaving him to stand there awkwardly before dismissing the fated question for later.

eventually, the sky dimmed and evening arrived, and by then, the whole class was already back at their dormitory and about to have dinner.

through some rather convenient circumstances, you two were actually assigned on kitchen duty that night.

“it’s been getting pretty cold lately so i was thinking we should cook up a hot pot for everyone.” you gave your idea to him as you pulled out some ingredients from the fridge, waiting for his reply, but it came a few seconds later than you were expecting.

“right. sounds like a good idea,” todoroki answered a tad late. upon realizing it was only going to be the two of you making dinner tonight, his mind was occupied by what he and his friends spoke about earlier.

that was when he started overthinking the situation and absentmindedly half-assed his work.

“todoroki, the cut on the tofu is slightly uneven.” you reviewed his cutting board. looking down, he saw the inconsistent slices of tofu limp in front of him. if bakugou were the executive chef for the evening, he would’ve had to hear an earful from him.

“sorry…” he apologized quietly, reaching out for another cube of tofu to cut.

“is everything okay? i know you’re still learning how to cook, but i’ve seen you show some significant improvement on your knife skills recently.” you voiced your concern for him.

the white and red-haired boy stared at the white bean curd while hearing your worried tone and couldn’t find it within himself to continue the task. it was now or never he thought. he laid the knife flat on the cutting board.

“actually, i wanted to ask you something.” he turned toward you. “do you… want to go out with me?”

nothing but the sound of the fire running on the stove could be heard in the kitchen. todoroki didn’t move his eyes away from you, watching you nearly drop the plate of siu choy and shiitake mushrooms out of shock as your mouth was hanging open.

when you caught onto your bearings, you let out a small laugh. “oh… i… wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted honestly, placing the ingredients on the counter safely.

the boy furrowed his brows. “is that a no?”

“n-no! i mean that isn’t my answer! i–” you fumbled with your words, cheeks warming up now that his confession had finally sunk in. in the meantime, todoroki found your reaction quite amusing. the corner of his lip quirked into a grin.

“what i mean to say is that yes, i’d love to go out with you.” you accepted the offer wholeheartedly. todoroki would be lying if his heart wasn’t throbbing from anticipation. he’s glad he’s able to rest and put that aside.

“now let’s continue making this hot pot together!” you cheered, smiling widely and he found comfort in your words before resuming slicing the tofu.

[fortuositywritings]

Collide

Part 1 Wanda x Reader

Summary: You bump into Wanda Maximoff at a grocery store. Wouldn’t be a problem if either of you were anyone else but you two were no ordinary people.

You would think having the ability to take anyone’s power would be awesome. It’s not.

With a simple touch, you could take any person with special abilities’ special powers from them. You figured this out in grade school when you high-fived one of your friends for the first time. Suddenly you could see through walls. That same year, you figured out they could take those powers back. 

A few years later you found out they could only take those powers back if they wanted them. You tried giving someone their invisibility back but they would not have it. Now you are stuck with it. You are stuck with a few others too, like walking through walls and mimicking voices. Those you got from random strangers on the street. 

Obviously, you tried to give them back. You wouldn’t take what isn’t yours, but it was an impossible task. Finding a stranger you bumped into in New York is kind of hard. 

You’ve tried passing off powers to other people but it never worked. You could only return them to the person who gave them to you. To give them back, all you had to do was touch them again and they had to want the powers back. It was that simple. 

So when you bump into Wanda Maximoff at the grocery store, things get a little complicated. 

You’ve made a friend recently who turns out to be Sokovian. Seeing as his birthday is coming up, you thought it would be cool to cook him a traditional Sokovian meal. A few searches on Google and you print out a list of what you need. 

You leave to the nearest store that would have all you need. You check off your list, heading toward the aisle of spices. You finally find the one the recipe calls for and lucky for you, it’s the last one. You reach for it but you feel someone else’s hand touching yours, reaching for the same thing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. You look at the woman who is standing really close to you for a stranger. She has intense green eyes, you notice. She pulls her hand away. 

“It’s alright,” you say. 

“Was that the last one?” she asks, awkwardly.

“It seems so,” you confirm. “But we can ask an employee if they have more somewhere?”

You flag down an employee two aisles down and ask. They shake their head and then tell you they won’t be getting more until next week. The woman with the green eyes sighs. 

“We can split it,” you suggest. “I don’t need the whole thing. At least I don’t think so? I just need it to make a Sokovian dish that calls for it. I probably won’t be using it for anything else.”

“I don’t know. Sokovian food is delicious if I may say so. You’ll get a taste and might regret sharing this with a stranger,” she teases. 

You smile and ask, “Oh, are you Sokovian?”

She nods and you add, “Well, then I insist on sharing it with you. Maybe you can actually give me a few tips on this recipe?”

“What are you making?” she asks you. You show her the recipe on your phone and she kindly shares some of her expertise which you’re grateful for. She follows you around the store making conversation as you grab the rest of what you need. Technically, you follow her around as she suggests you other stuff to add to the recipe. 

You add a mini mason jar to your cart. You both head to pay and outside pour some of the spice into your mason jar and give her the rest of the bottle. You thank her for all the help and wish her a great day. 

Wanda gets back to the tower in a positive mood. Everyone notices and asks her what happened. She replies that she just had a nice interaction with a stranger and it made her day. 

Though her day was made, the rest of her week was hell. She doesn’t know what is wrong with her. Her powers have been failing her. She doesn’t understand. At first she thinks it’s just the more difficult things she can’t do but then she notices how no one’s thoughts appear in her head. It’s quiet. She only hears her own. 

Something was definitely wrong.

You thought you were imagining things but after guessing what your friends’ were thinking for the umpteenth time, you knew you had taken someone else’s power. 

You don’t think it’s too bad at first. Only your friends’ heavy thoughts made their way into your head. Unfortunately, some of those thoughts you can never unhear again. 

The problem comes when you go to the library for the first time with this new power. The library is hell. It’s full of people who are just thinking loudly. See in public, there are people who are thinking loudly of course, but there are more people distracted and speaking without thinking, which you never thought you would be so grateful for. 

You don’t last in the library for very long. So libraries are on your list of places to avoid. Soon, movie theaters are also on that list and then so are museums. Any place where people are meant to be quiet is where it’s loudest in your head. 

You wish you knew who you touched to get these powers. You begin to think back at everyone the past few weeks that you might have had direct contact with. A hand you shook or an arm you bumped into. You’ve always been cautious about your surroundings so these things wouldn’t happen.

Everyone you greeted at your Sokovian friend’s party you’ve greeted before. No one was new there. The Sokovian at the store!

Damn it. You never got her name or anything. Maybe you’ll encounter her at the store again. The next few days, you spend hours at the same store. People begin to think you’re an employee and you almost feel like one, knowing exactly where everything is from spending so much time there. 

You’ve even made plans with one employee to go hangout. But no green eyed Sokovian makes an appearance. 

Three weeks you have this power when you find that not only can you read people’s thoughts, but you hold things without actually touching them. It happens when you drop something in the kitchen. You reach for it to catch it before it hits the floor but it’s nowhere near your grasp. However, it never hits the floor. 

You then notice a red mist-like substance coming from your hands floating in the direction of the object. You see that it’s holding it up. After that, you start practicing with random things around your apartment. You begin with lighter things, thinking you would only be able to hold weight that you could in your actual arms, but it is not so. 

You work your way up to lifting your car in the air and in that same moment you learn you could do multiple things like lifting your car and replacing the flat tire. 

Two months with these abilities and you feel you start getting the hang of it. You still can’t go to the library. You’ve tried again but the voices are too loud. You still go to the store where you met the woman that unintentionally gifted you these powers to try and return them. She seemed like a decent person and you don’t know what she used these powers for. Maybe she needs them.

You still have yet to find her. 

Wanda hasn’t been on a mission in three months. Instead, Bruce has been poking and prodding her with needles and running countless tests trying to figure out what happened with her powers. Three weeks ago she began to go to a therapist because Steve thought it might be a mental block of some sort that she had to work through.

Though therapy was doing wonders for her, they weren’t getting her anywhere near having her powers back. Bruce’s tests weren’t helpful either. She’s been stuck in the tower for three months and her days have never felt so repetitive until now- train, go to therapy, undergo tests. Rinse and repeat. 

The media had begun to notice as well. She turns to another TV channel where the news anchor asks “Where is Wanda Maximoff?” as if she’s disappeared from the face of the earth. In a way she has.

Fortunately for her, you are watching that same channel. You are cooking dinner and have the television channel on for background noise. You hear them talking about the Avengers. They’ve never been of much interest to you, although they should be seeing as though you live in the same city and something is always going down here because of that reason.

“For those who have been living under a rock,” the new anchor starts, “Wanda Maximoff is one of the newer additions to the Avengers.”

“She’s the one with the red magic, isn’t she?” the co-anchor asks. That grabs your attention. You turn to look at the screen. “That’s right. She joined about a year ago after the fall of Sokovia.”

That had to be a coincidence, right? 

“She hasn’t been reported to be on any missions the last three months,” the reporter continues. That definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, you think, counting back the time you’ve attained these powers. 

“Here is a clip of Maximoff using her magic to save diplomats at the embassy five months ago when…” You don’t hear the rest as you watch the clip play. 

It’s the green eyed Sokovian who helped you out at the market. Your suspicions about it being her who had these powers were correct. You just didn’t think you took powers from an Avenger. Someone who definitely needs these powers to do her job and save people like the clip shows. Shit.

You smell the food you’re cooking burning. 

“Shit!”

Wanda pounds her hand on the mat. Sweat clings onto her shirt. She’s tired and out of breath. 

“Again,” Nat commands. Wanda huffs and stands up, getting back into her fighting pose. She takes a swing that the Black Widow easily dodges. Not two moves later, she hits the mat again.

“Again,” Nat repeats.

“Natasha, give the kid a break,” Steve says, watching from the side. 

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures him.

Natasha explains, “If therapy and tests aren’t working, maybe self defense will.”

Steve seems doubtful but allows it. They really need Wanda to work through whatever is blocking her from using her powers. He winces seeing Wanda hit the mat.

“Again.”

“I’ve told you for the millionth time. My name is Y/N L/N and I need to speak to Wanda Maximoff. Or any of the Avengers, really. Or even one of their assistants or something. It’s vital,” you try helplessly. 

“Unless you have clearance, I can’t let you up,” the guy at the desk says to you for what feels like the hundredth time. You’ve been coming in the past few days trying to get someone to let you see Wanda. 

“Look, it’s really important. Can’t you, like, give her a message or something?” You’re desperate at this point. He laughs. 

“Ah, yes, let me just text her real quick. ‘hey Wanda. It’s that one guy you said hello to once downstairs. There’s some girl here that needs to talk to you’,” he acts out sarcastically, which you do not find amusing. 

“Listen, buddy. If you do me this favor and get your boss or whoever can give me clearance to see her, I promise she’ll be so grateful for you helping me get to her that she’ll come and thank you herself,” you vow. 

“I can’t help you, Miss. Now please go or I’ll have to call security,” he warns.

You rub your temple in frustration. “Fine. There’s no need for that...Michael,” you read his name. “I’m going.”

You turn around as if to head for the door but then do a 180 and sprint past a security guard who shouts at you to stop. You make your way for the elevators as the security guard runs after you. You press the button for the elevators but you notice they’re nowhere near the ground floor. 

The security catches up to you and in panic, you push him away with Wanda’s powers. He goes sliding across the floor and you bolt for the stairs.

You don’t even know which floor you would find Wanda in but you assume it would be somewhere up top. You begin your ascend. You reach the fourth floor and realize you should start using the StairMaster at the gym. You hear multiple security guards quickly making their way to you. You panic and walk through the wall, not knowing what was on the other side. 

You’re in some kind of engineering lab. You don’t think anyone saw you walk through the wall, so you try to act casual and stroll through the lab trying to find an exit. Then you hear someone call you. “Hey, you.”

You ignore them and act like you didn’t hear. They tell you to stop walking, loud enough that you can’t ignore it. You turn around to see a woman in a lab coat. She asks, “You’re not allowed on this floor. Who let you up here?”

“Oh, uh. Michael sent me,” you lie. “Sorry, I’m new. I must have gotten off on the wrong floor. Maybe you could help me find my way?”

“Where are you meant to be working?” she inquires and you’re stuck not knowing anything about the Stark Tower or Avengers Tower, whatever it’s called. 

“The lab,” you say. Your vague answer obviously creates another question. “What lab?”

“They haven’t told me yet? I’m not actually working in the labs. I’m doing more secretarial duties, taking notes and scheduling stuff.”

“For whom?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you. You can feel her catching onto you and it’s the only reason why you try this.

“For the big guy, obviously,” you say and then focus really hard trying to read her mind, hoping that a name will pop up in her head. Did Bruce get an assistant? You smile. “Bruce.”

“Well then you are way off. He’s usually working on the 87th floor,” she tells you. 

“Well, thank god there’s an elevator,” you chuckle nervously, pointing behind you. “Well, I should get going before I’m any later. You turn around confidently but as you walk away she stops you once more. You think you got caught but she says, “Elevators are that way.”

She points to the opposite way you came from. You laugh to play off your mistake, “Duh. Sorry, the lab is so big. Thanks.”

You head the right way. You speed walk to the elevators and then jog when you hear a rougher voice telling you to stop. “She’s on the fourth floor.”

You assume they spoke into their walkie, and you know you don't have much time before they catch you. You think quickly. You can’t make your way to the elevator because then obviously they’ll just stop the elevators. You don’t want to walk through a wall; the dangers of that are extreme given this is Stark Tower. You could accidentally walk into an ongoing experiment. 

You had to hide. And suddenly, you had the perfect plan. 

The security guard runs to you. He thinks you’re running for the elevator but then you turn before you get there. He sees you dive behind some clunky machine, presumably to hide behind. You clearly never have won a game of hide and seek in your life, he thinks as he goes around the machine to catch you. 

He’s left utterly confused when you aren’t there. The only trace of you are your clothes down to underwear on the floor. Four other guards make it to the floor. One asks him, “Where is she?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. “She was right here. Search the floor. She’s hiding and I think she’s naked.”

They disperse taking your clothes with them. You let out a breath of relief at not getting caught but then mentally curse that they took your clothes. You still haven’t learned how to make other things invisible yet. You never really used this power. Maybe you should start practicing.

You hustle your naked ass to the elevators, feeling incredibly exposed even though you know no one can actually see you. You press the elevator button and wait impatiently. It dings and opens. 

“The elevators!” You hear one of the guards yell. Two run your way as you step into the car. You put all your energy into staying invisible. It would be really awkward if you were suddenly exposed. You hold your breath when one of them looks in the elevator. You keep yourself in the corner furthest away from them. In their eyes, there is no one in the elevator. 

“She’s not here.” They leave and the doors close. You click the button for the 87th floor.

____________________________________________________

This will probably have 3 parts. 

[rocorambles]

Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”