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lovelycreativecrafts · 1 year

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Left Behind | Illumi x Little Sister Reader (Platonic)

Part 1

Word Count: 1,745

Synopsis: Part 2 of Held Back Emotions

Warnings: None

Author’s Notes: If you liked the short fanfic please like and reblog the post. If not, feel free to leave a comment on how the story could have been made better. I hope you all have a blessed day!!!

Challenge: Febuwhump Challenge hosted by @fanfictionlibrary01 and their discord server

Hisoka’s POV

I stared at Illumi as he calmly walked away from me and left his sister in the woods. I leaned off the wall and steadied myself onto my feet. I began to walk into the woods as I heard the little girl’s soft cries. Fortunately for me, Illumi didn’t walk too far into the forest.

I stopped in front of the little girl and she lifted her head from her knees. Tears stained her face as blood ran down her leg from her scraped knee. Her dark eyes seemed to sadden further as she noticed that I was not her brother and she put her head back into her knees.

“Hmm, don’t look so disappointed,” I bent down toward her.

“Your dear brother will be back soon.” I placed a hand on top of her head and she looked up at me.

“Really?” She asked.

She was way too trusting. “Yes, now why don’t we patch up that knee of yours.” I held my hand out for her to take.

The little girl stood up from the ground and stared at my hand. Has Illumi never held her hand before? And I thought she was so precious to him.

“Do you want something from me?” She softly asked.

I smiled, “Your hand.”

The girl frowned as she looked between my expression and my hand. She slowly brought her small hand into mine and I softly gripped her hand. I stood up and looked down at her.

“Let's go.”

***

Sister’s POV

The pink-haired man stopped in front of my hotel door and pulled out a key card from his pocket. I stayed quiet the whole time we walked but I would occasionally take glances at the man. He opened the door to his hotel and walked into it and I followed.

The man let go of my hand and pointed toward a large bed, “You can sit over there.”

I looked toward the red large bed and walked toward it as Illumi’s friend closed the door. I jumped onto the edge of the soft bed, brought my knees toward my chest, and placed my head on my knees. Hot tears swelled in my eyes as my knee throbbed.

Why did Illumi leave me? Is he coming back?

I tightened my grip around my knees. I recalled the first memory I had of my big brother. I was asking him to pick me up with my hands stretched up toward him. Big Brother seemed to have hesitated when he looked down at me but I kept smiling up at him. He never seemed to scold me about my expressions when I was little but now that I’ve grown he seems to be more focused on it. Big Brother eventually picked me up and threw me into the air. Back then, Illumi seemed to have never left me unless he had to go to work.

I heard a voice call my name and I looked up from my knees. Illumi’s friend smiled at me before pointing to one of my knees.

“May I?”

I unwrapped my legs and lifted my head away from my knees. The pink-haired man began to wipe my scraped knee with a cotton ball and a clear liquid while also getting rid of any other residue from my leg. He soon removed the cotton and liquid and pulled out some colorful band-aids from a box.

“Which one would you like?”

I sniffed and pointed toward the colorful butterfly. The man put the rest of the bandaids back and began putting the butterfly band-aid on my injury.

“Why are you crying?” The pink-haired man asked.

“My knee still hurts,” I lied.

The pink-haired man's smile dropped and he lifted an eyebrow toward me. But his expression was soon replaced with a smirk.

“If so then,” Hisoka leaned toward my injured knee and pressed his lips onto my knee, “That should make it feel better.”

My eyes widened, “W-Why did you do that?” I quickly moved my knees away from the man.

I’ve only seen my mother and father kiss each other and that was rare but I knew that type of physical contact was reserved for couples and married people.

“Hmm, did Illumi not tell you? When someone is injured you should have someone kiss it and the pain goes away.” The strange man stood up.

“You’re lying.” I stated.

“Am I? Does your knee still hurt?”

I looked down at my knee and the throbbing that was once there seemed to have disappeared.

“No,” I answered.

Hisoka’s POV

I smiled at the little girl’s answer and walked toward a chair.

“Will Big Brother come back?”

I sat in my chair, “I’m sure he will.”

That’s cute, how she calls Illumi, Big Brother.

“How do you know?”

“Well, he has a lot more training to give you.”

The little girl mumbled, “Why do I have to train? I don’t want to train if it means fighting my brother. I-I just want . . . ,” The girl's eyes watered back up.

I pulled out my card deck from my pocket, “Your Big Brother trains you so you can be able to protect yourself.” I simply told her hoping the explanation would be enough to stop her crying as I began shuffling my cards.

The little girl wiped her eyes, “Protect myself from who?”

“From people like me,”

The little girl knitted her eyebrows and moved further onto the bed. “I thought Illumi was training me because that’s what my parents wanted?”

“If that was true then he would train you way harsher than he is now,” I explained.

The little girl stared down at her knees. I would be lying if I said I was surprised that she didn’t understand Illumi’s actions. The way she was raised was quite different from other children. She was most likely shut off from everyone emotionally and instead of being taught to enjoy her young years she was taught to fight. But even still, she was more expressive than her brothers and she acted her age.

“It’s because your brother loves you,” I answered the question that was probably already occupying her mind.

The little girl’s dark eyes widened and my phone rang in my pocket.

Illumi’s POV

I stared at the empty forest as I waited for Hisoka to pick up his phone. I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t even think about what Hisoka might do to my sister once I was gone. That’s a mistake that I will not make again.

“Hello, Illu-,”

“Where’s my sister?” I interrupted him.

“Hm, I thought you were going to abandon your dear sister so I took it upon myself to keep her as a . . . distraction.”

My hand twitched at Hisoka’s words. If I knew anything about Hisoka it’s that any distraction for him was just a toy that he likes to take apart piece by piece. “Hisoka, if you touch my sister-,”

“Your sister’s fine for now.”

“Where are you?”

“How about you come and find me? That should be fun,” Hisoka hung up the phone.

I stared at the phone before stuffing it into my pants pocket. I knew my sister could hold her own against Hisoka if she was pushed into a corner and I also doubted that Hisoka would try to fight a child but Hisoka was unpredictable. If he was desperate he would almost do anything just to satisfy his thirst.

I recalled the background noises occupying the phone call. The place they were in seemed particularly quiet, almost as if they were in a closed space. The only sound that I could make out was a vibrational sound much like a fan or heater. I turned and walked in the direction that I knew my sister was in.

***

I stopped in front of the hotel room door and placed my hand on the doorknob ready to force it open. An image of my sister’s tearful face flashed in front of me and I stopped my actions. I briefly remembered the fear in her eyes as I tried to forcefully train her.

She has never looked at me like that. What if she’s afraid of me now like Kil? Would she even want to come back home with me? Does she even think of me as her big brother anymore?

I clenched the doorknob and ignored my thoughts as I forced the door open. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me or if she fears me. I have a purpose to make sure she becomes a proper heir of the Zoldyck family and if that means she will hate me for the rest of her life so be it.

I took a step inside the dimed room. “Big Brother.” My eyes widened at the nickname.

My sister jumped off the bed and ran towards me with her arms wide. She wrapped her arms around my hips and pressed her face into my abdomen. I froze at the unfamiliar contact. I’ve seen this type of physical affection from other people like when a mother comforts her child or when two people finally meet each other but to physically experience a hug was completely different from watching it happen.

My sister lifted her head away from my abdomen and she smiled, “I love you too, Big Brother.”

Heat crawled toward my cheeks at the words that left my little sister’s mouth. Where did she learn those words? Wasn’t she afraid of me?

Ever since she started her training she hasn’t called me Big Brother. So, what made her decide to call me that now?

“That’s so adorable~.”

I glanced toward Hisoka and he smirked at me, “Aren’t you going to say it back?” Hisoka teased.

I ignored Hisoka’s comment as I bent down on one of my knees and my sister unwrapped her arms around me.

“I bought you something,” I told her.

My sister’s eyes widened, “Really? What is it?”

I pulled out the small gift from my pocket and showed her the colorful hairpin shaped into a butterfly. Her eyes seemed to have sparkled as she took the hairpin from my fingers.

“It’s so pretty! I love it!” My sister gazed at the gift.

My sister wrapped her arms around my neck, giving me another hug, “Thank you, Big Brother.”

I relaxed in her embrace and a small tug at my lips.

“I love that expression, Illumi. You should smile more.”

#illumi x reader #hunter x hunter fanfic #anime fanfic #x reader #fanfiction writing #christian fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction challenge #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #platonic relationships

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ametrinearrows · 4 months

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To Be There

YN YLN and her boyfriend, Jeff Hardy were strolling through the corridors of the backstage area after Jeff's match against Edge. They held hands as they walked back towards his locker room. Little did the couple know there was trouble lurking just in the shadows. Just as they turned the last corner, Matt, Jeff's older brother, and his girlfriend, Lita, emerged from their now evident hiding spots. The two launched their planned attack on the unsuspecting couple.

Jeff and YNN did their damnedest to fight them off the best they could, swapping blows with the other couple. But amidst the chaos, YNN found herself thrown into some equipment that was off to the side, which knocked her out cold. Matt laid one final blow to his younger brother before he and Lita ran off in the opposite direction of the distressed scene.

When he finally noticed his unconscious girlfriend barely being held upright by a storage case on the other side of the hallway, the raven-haired man was struck with panic and called for medical assistance as he made his way over to the girl. Minutes later, the sound of wailing sirens filled the air as the YLN girl was rushed out of the arena and to the nearest hospital. Jeff never once left her side the entire way, holding her hand as a way to comfort not only her but himself as well. The man made a silent vow that his brother would pay for this. To him, this action was unforgivable.

The news of Matt and Lita's attack spread around the locker room area like wildfire and when it finally got to Christian, YN's best friend, he could feel his heart sink in his chest. Worry fueled his determination as he gathered his things, as well as running to Jeff's locker room to gather theirs as well and hurried out of the arena. As he traveled the roads of Las Vegas, he tried to keep his thoughts positive. She had to be okay.

When he arrived at the hospital, he found the Hardy boy sitting next to his girlfriend's hospital bedside. YN was still out cold as she lay almost lifeless in the bed. The sight crushed the former tag team champ and he hesitated to walk inside the room.

After a few moments of standing in the doorway, Christian approached the other man, concerned etched on his face. "Hey, man." He said and placed a comforting hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"Oh, hey, Jay." The raven haired man greeted sadly as he looked up at him.

"How is she?" Jay questioned as he walked around the bed and sat down in the chair on the other side.

"Physically, other than a concussion and a slightly fractured shoulder blade from the impact, she's fine. Just a waiting game for her to wake up." Jeff confessed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I get... I get that Matt and I agreed to feud together but I never imagined that he would drag YNN into this. Don't get me wrong, man, she can fight if need be but she isn't a wrestler. You know her as well as I do, if not more, you know she doesn't want to be a major part of this kind of life. She’s happy with just being in the background."

Jason nodded his head, silently agreeing with his friend's statement. "Why do you think they did this?" He questioned as he looked upon the YHC haired girl's sleeping figure.

The other man shrugged, not knowing what to think at that point. "Your guess would be as good as mine right about now." He admitted and leaned back in his chair for the first time since he had sat down in it. "But he'll pay for it, I can assure you that. YN shouldn't be laying in this damn bed. Amy took it too far."

Christian went to say something else but was cut short by a small whimper escaping YN's mouth as she began to finally wake. Both men quickly sat up in their seats. She squinted slightly from the bright lights.

"Hey, baby girl," Jeff said as he took her hand in his. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better." She confessed, her voice raspy from sleep and lack of moisture in her mouth, "Do I dare ask what happened?"

"Matt and Amy happened." Jay stated, his tone full of anger for a moment. "She threw you into an equipment case and, well, you were bad enough they sent you here."

YN rolled her eyes at the words of her best friend. "Oh, great, unwanted exposure therapy. How lovely?"

"Yeah, well, you did give us quite the scare when you wouldn't wake up at the arena." Her boyfriend said and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I know you're not liking this, but the medics were concerned you were worse off than just the concussion and fractured shoulder that you ended up having, so you can't blame them."

"I don't," She said truthfully. "Just want to get out of here."

"I'll go tell the nurse you're awake. If we're lucky, we can go home in the morning. "Jeff stated as he stood from his seat. "Would you like anything?"

"Water would be great." The YHC girl admitted. "Cotton mouth is a bitch right about now."

"You got it." The man gave his girlfriend a small kiss on her forehead and walked out to inform her nurse.

Christian gave her a small worried smile as she looked over at him to which she returned. "Glad to see you're okay." He admitted to keep the conversation going to try to keep her mind off where she was, knowing her extreme dislike for hospitals.

She hummed slightly in response. "Why do you look like you're running on just purely coffee and nothing else?"

"Kinda am." Jay admitted to his best friend. "Got to the hotel at, like, three in the morning and had to be at the children's hospital at seven. So I'm running on, maybe, four hours and five cups of coffee."

"Damn, you're starting to sound like Jeff. Minus the ‘holy fuck, I'm glad that's over.’" She joked.

The blonde man chuckled and nodded, "Oh, but I'm thinking about it, I can assure you of that."

"Thank you, Jay," YN said after a moment or two. "For coming, I mean. After a jam-packed day, I would have understood if you were too tired to check on me."

"Shut your mouth, YNN, I could have been two states away when I heard and I would still have found a way to make it here to stay with you and Jeff until you got to go home." He confessed and reached over her to take hold of the hand that the Hardy man once was. "You don't have to thank me for doing my job as your best friend because it's something I will always find a way to do when you need me."

YNN smiled at his comforting words. She knew that she could always count on him and Jeff in moments like these. Neither man would ever leave her side when she needed them the most. The YLN girl often thought she would never be able to express just how grateful she was for the two of them. But as time went on she would sure as hell try.

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Christian #Christian x reader #Christian imagine #Christian imagines #Christian fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

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theres-a-body-here · 7 months

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666 days around the world

Chapter 1: Paradise visited

Satan didn’t know what to expect when he arrived on Earth. It’s been so long since he last visited. He was almost certain the humans had already wiped each other out.

He was pleasantly surprised when they were alive and…… Well, their being alive was the most important thing Satan was concerned with. He left the major cities and traveled out to a desert. He enjoyed the boiling heat.

Satan perched on a large boulder as he looked onto the horizon as he took in the beautiful sight of the landscape. Earth was pretty quiet compared to Hell, or at least his layer. Satan took in a deep breath, enjoying the warm, dry air.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Suddenly said a soft voice from behind Satan. Satan let out a yelp as he twisted around. Jesus sat on the boulder behind Satan as if he was always there, comfortable and serene.

“Leave me be” Satan demanded, annoyed that he hadn’t noticed the Son of God sneaking up on him. He turned away without waiting for an answer as he continued to stare at the landscape.

“You know the deal, Lucifer,” Jesus said calmly. “You get to visit Earth as long as I keep an eye on you. Father’s orders”

Satan grits his teeth. “I’m not your responsibility, I don’t need a babysitter,” He spat out angrily.

The carpenter simply looked at him with that faint smile he always wears.

Satan hated it. He hated how Jesus was always looking at him with those eyes. So soft, so understanding. He hated it. He wanted to wipe it off his face. He hated how his voice is always so soothing and calm, it made him sick. He hated it. He hated it.

Satan felt himself shrink as he had his internal tantrum. Jesus watched in pity as Satan unconsciously took the form of a young androgynous child.

“Fine, stay. I don’t care,” Huffed Satan in their now higher-pitched tone. Their child arms crossed over their chest.

Jesus watched as Satan brooded. He felt bad for the fallen angel and would’ve liked to leave them alone on their vacation, but God’s orders were absolute.

“How long were you planning to stay this time around?” Asked Jesus Softly, snapping Satan out of their mood.

Satan pondered for a moment

“Maybe a week or so,” They shrugged.

Jesus stayed quiet for a moment before speaking. “Well, let’s get to it then. Where do you want to go first?”

“…”

“I wish to see a lake”

#bible #bible fandom #bible fanfiction #christian fanfiction #Satan and Jesus #original work #original writing #slice of life #christianity #jesus christ #satan #judeo christian #fanfic #fanfiction #bffsforever

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percyshelleyfucks · 21 days

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when i get to hell im going for John Milton’s throat first

#ive been studying paradise lost and ive a newfound hatred for this man #paradise lost #is my least favorite #christian fanfiction #fuck john milton #john milton #fuck you

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nathaliacroft · 2 years

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Some Fake Screenshots of my OC "Lara" with her Squad 🥰

Summary:

"Follow Lara’s journey, an orphan girl of just ten years old, who joins the Survey Corps. Having Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoë as her tutors, her life takes on a new meaning as the relationship with these two soldiers grows. And, as time goes by, she discovers new friendships with the cadets of the 104th Training Corps, especially from Armin Arlert."

Read her story here:

- AO3

- Wattpad

- Fanfiction.net

#levihan #levihan fanart #levihan fanfiction #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #armin arlert #armin arlert x oc #armin x oc #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan oc #aot #aot fanfiction #aot oc #christian fanfiction #larmin #fake screenshot #attack on titan fake screenshot

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jevilowo · 1 year

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AU where every piece of literature is written like a 2014 era yaoi fanfic

"So then Jesus said-"

.....

Me: squeee! Here it comes! UwU

Jesus: what •ò_ō•

.....

"-Ask and it will be given"

Except actual 2014 era fanfiction, that shits written like bible verses

#i had to google stuff jesus said for this ew #fanfiction #the bible #jesus christ #christian fanfiction #2014 era

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ffcrazy15 · 5 months

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Once again boosting the Salt and Light collection because truly where would be without it?

#salt and light #christian fanfiction #catholic fanfiction #christian fanfic #catholic fanfic

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sharpasanaro · 11 months

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dude i fucking hate church. our interim pastor gave a sermon and it was like listening to fucking Dante preach. he had so many headcanons and really fucking close to self-inserts and ‘relating stories’ his tangents were hilariously awful fml

#Christian fanfiction

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deep-space-lines · 1 month

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okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.

yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything

((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))

and then they fucked nasty the end

#my art #my writing #who fuckin sent this. fuck you. come off anon so i can kick your ass. (the thoughts this ask sparked consumed almost 3 days of my life)#i dont know what this even is #i just work here #disclaimer i don't come from a particularly religious background so like.#most of my knowledge of christianity comes from when my mom sent me to vbs for cheap babysitting in middle school or absorbed via osmosis #so i have no idea what im talking about except for when i do! hope this helps #i love how i say that like i expect biblical scholars to tear apart my ultrakill gay fanfiction #if you are a biblical scholar and you want to tear apart my ultrakill gay fanfiction please know i am not going to read the bible for this #ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #gabv1el #blood #love tagging ultrakill stuff with blood. hmm yes the floor here is made out of floor

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lqveharrington · 24 days

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Behind the Scenes | V.

summary: Being Vox’s girlfriend requires some patience after twelve hour work days.

pairing: Vox x fem!reader

includes: Vox and Velvette bullying one another, VALENTINO BEING A MENACE, mentions of Angel’s job, drinking, fluff, yelling, Vox being a baby, cursing, implications of being a prostitute, suggestiveness, both of them being teases (that’s it, let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i think writing hazbin fics is my stress outlet 😭

You were Vox’s. And Vox was yours. Every demon and sinner in Pride Ring knew due to Vox taking time out of his busy work day to shower you with compliments in every press interview or host show when you were brought up. Especially when Vox would be the first one to find you after you finished modeling for Velvette’s show, making sure the paparazzi had photos of him praising you with kisses and soft touches.

Of course, you reciprocated every moment… In the public eye. Behind the cameras and screens, Vox was very much loving. But he did work for almost twelve hours each day, which required patience from you whenever he came home to you in a sour mood.

“Do you need me for anything else, Vel?” You glance back at your phone as you pour red wine into your glass.

“No,” She scribbled down measurement adjustments for another model’s design, looking back up at her screen after hearing an electrical shock from your side of the phone. “But do tell your boy toy that you have a dress rehearsal early tomorrow morning, and that you have to be there on time.”

Vox wrapped his arm around your waist, glaring at the young overlord through your phone. “Fuck off, Velvette.”

You feel him resting his head against your shoulder as he presses soft kisses on your neck, your dead heart fluttering. “I’ll be there on time.”

“Good.” She rolled her eyes at your boyfriend’s actions before ending the call.

“What’s your damage today, handsome?” You ask before sipping on your drink, red lipstick staining the clear glass. You watch as he mutters something incoherent, static emitting from his hat. “Vox, talk to me.”

“That bitch Carmilla won’t meet up, and it’s been several days since our last update on Vox technology.” He sighs as he moves around you, his voice crackling with electricity. “Shareholders have been up my fucking ass all morning about it— Valentino keeps trying to get me to watch his stupid porn feels featuring Angel.”

He removes his suit jacket as he complains, walking toward the large living space including a minibar. Vox pulls at his tie and reaches for the whiskey underneath, “Now Velvette wants to be an ass and complain about me wanting to spend time with you—“

“My love,” You hand him a glass from the cabinets, letting your hand linger on his for a bit. “Vel’s my boss, and I’m her best model. She needs me for these rehearsals.”

“You’re really taking her side?” He tilts back his head and downs the drink in one go, pouring another.

You roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “I’m not taking sides, I’m pointing out a fact.” You sit on the stool by the bar, letting him slot himself between your legs. “If anything, I’m listening to you describing your day.”

“Mm.” He let one hand come down and rest on your hip, rubbing soft circles. “Tell me about your day.”

“Boring, tiring. Pretty much the same every day.” You grab his wrist to ensure he doesn’t go any lower or any higher. “According to your assistant, I do have a lot of things planned tomorrow. So that should be exhausting.”

Vox linked your hands together, “Sounds stressful.”

“Not as bad as yours every day.” You press a kiss on his palm. “I was gonna watch a movie while waiting for you, but now that you’re here—“ You shift your wine glass in your hand as he puts his own glass down, letting him trail his hands to your waist. “Want to join me?”

“Of course.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before trailing after you. “What movie are we watching?”

“Whatever the first thing I find.” You let Vox sit on the couch before doing the same, swinging your legs over his lap. “You need a new rotation on Voxflix, I’ve watched almost everything.”

“I’ll get on that.” He mumbled as he ran his hand up and down your leg, occasionally squeezing.

You hum and shift your gaze to the television, scrolling through the different movies. “How do we feel about—“

A ringtone filled the air, both of you freezing at the noise.

“Vox—“

“Give me a second.” He let you pull your legs away and pulled the ringing from his screen to his phone, camera-ready voice leaving his mouth.

You sigh but find a movie worth watching, pulling your knees up. Around halfway through, you decided that the movie was meretricious, heavily judging the poorly made movie more than the other ones you’ve watched. You typed your review on your phone, giving the movie two stars before—

“—THEN GET SOME LOW LIFE SINNER TO DO YOUR FUCKING JOB FOR YOU!” You heard Vox scream from the kitchen, making you wince for the poor soul on the other end. “AND IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE SHIT I GIVE YOU, JUST KNOW I HAVE YOUR FUCKING SOUL IN CONTRACT!”

You pause the movie and get up, taking slow steps to your hotheaded boyfriend. He shuffled across the kitchen, walking back and forth as his fans kicked on. His white shirt was unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up like he was going to commit a crime.

“YOU LITTLE PIECE OF—“

“Vox,” You come up from behind and wrap your arms around his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s outside of your work hours.”

“Fucking—“ He rubbed his temple as he heard the sinner go silent on the other line. Vox took one hand and laced it with yours, “You’re lucky my wife is generous you ungrateful fuck.” He ended the call before muttering more curses, turning you in his arms so you were facing his front.

You let your hands move up to his shoulders, massaging the heavy tension in them. “Am I your wife now? Is that what you’ve been telling those sinners?”

“Maybe.” He let out a loud groan from the sensation, fans still running. “The fucking bitch in accounting is—“

“You’re not working right now, stop.” You give him a pointed look. “I need you to relax.”

Vox wrapped his arms around your waist, walking you backward toward the living area once more. “God, I’m in love with you.”

“I love you too.” You chuckle as he peppers kisses on your face. You let out a noise of surprise when he pulls you into his lap, hands gripping his shoulders for support. “Vox!”

“Yes?” He pressed kisses to your exposed collarbone.

You sigh in content but grab the corners of his screen, giving him a cheeky grin. “Tomorrow, my love. Velvette will murder the both of us if I show up late with bruises.”

“I’ll pay her to let you have a day off tomorrow.” He slipped his hand up your shirt, sharp claws bringing chills to your skin.

“So now you’re paying to be with me?” You raise a brow, stifling a laugh when he stops all movements. “Am I some kind of—“

“Of course not! Do not finish that sentence.” He pushed you down on the couch, covering your mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You laugh at how protective he is over you from himself. “I know you didn’t mean it like that, I was kidding.”

Vox dropped his head down to your shoulder, “You’re such a tease.”

“I’m the best.” You squeeze his bicep. “But seriously, Vel will have our heads strung outside the tower.”

“Whatever.” He flipped you both over, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I’ll have you all to myself this weekend.”

You hum, pressing a kiss on the corner of his screen. “I’m sure you do, handsome.”

“My love, I will cancel all your plans this weekend if you tell me I can’t have you.” Vox traces his finger down your spine. “Don’t tell me you have any.”

“I don’t…” You turn your head as he runs his claws through your hair. You feel yourself warm as he wraps a blanket over the both of you, flicking the television to play with a snap of his fingers.

“What do we rate the movie today?” He played with the ends of your hair, face pulling a grimace at the movie’s corny script.

“Two stars.” You mumble as your gaze shifts to the television. As the television fades to black in an awkward transition, you see Vox staring at you rather than the screen. “What are you looking at, weirdo?”

“My beautiful girlfriend.” He squeezed your hip. “Who I love very much.”

You let a small laugh slip through your lips, grinning brightly at his words. “I love you very much too, weirdo.”

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distantdarlings · 6 months

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HARD EDGES // t. riddle

RATING: R / 1.6K WORDS

Tom Riddle x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - You decide to ask Tom to the Winter ball and he reacts a bit differently than you would have expected. (Romance, slight angst?)

+ WARNINGS - Implied smut, heavy kissing, heavy petting, light choking, Tom is kind of mean (but I mean, it’s Tom Riddle) language

+ MUSIC (listened to to while writing) -

ATE MY HEART - SEVEN XTC

---

Tom’s eyes found mine in a fiery rage. His lips pursed gently as he struggled with what to say.

“Look, if you can’t just answer like a human being, I’m going—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, snatching your wrist from your side. He yanked you behind him and started abruptly down the hall. You glanced around nervously at the few people still scattered around the area. A few of their eyes found the two of you as Tom cut like a knife through the small crowd. You hid your face as best as you could, feeling your cheeks begin to warm. You knew they were probably just trying to see what in the world Tom Riddle was up to—it had nothing to do with you. But, Merlin, did it feel like it.

He turned the nearest right corner sharply, away from all the prying eyes, and led you down to the end of the hall before swinging you in front of him. Your eyes found his only for a moment before he shoved you roughly into the room behind you. You nearly fell back as you stumbled into the second-floor male lavatory. His eyes glowed red with incomparable fury.

His wand waved behind him in a quick spell and the door shut suddenly with a slam. The large lock on it dropped with a heavy clunk. Your heart rate quickened quite rapidly. Hopefully, this wasn’t the biggest mistake of your life and you were able to make it out of this alive. Not that Tom would kill you…You’re pretty sure anyway.

“I want you to repeat the question to me,” he demanded, “and don’t interrupt me while I’m thinking of a response.” You struggled not to roll your eyes. You shrugged out of your robes—it was getting a bit hot in here.

“All I wanted to know was if you wanted to be my date to the Winter ball. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable or anything but when you sat there gawking at me like I had two heads, I got a little pissed and—”

“Okay, okay, shut up,” he interrupted. His eyes dropped to the floor as he seemed to be figuring out an impossible equation in his head. His fingers ran through his curled hair as he glanced around in thought.

“It really doesn’t require that much—yes or no?” you spoke. He angrily glanced at you, silencing you with his eyes. You sighed loudly, hoping it would convince him to answer a little quicker. Why was it this difficult? If you were so repulsive, he had to lock you in a bathroom and ponder the meaning of the universe, to agree to go to a ball with you…well, then maybe you didn’t need to be here. You started towards the door.

“No!” he shouted, he pushed you back into your original spot. “Please just let me think.”

“What is there to think about?” your voice began to rise. “It’s a simple yes or no question, if you don’t want to go, just say no. I just thought since we’ve been paired together in potions and all, you might want to go as friends.”

“As friends?” he asked, almost as if getting reassurance. Your stomach dropped a little.

“Yes, as friends,” you responded, ignoring the knot in your throat. “We don’t have to be anything to go to a ball together.”

“Why would you ask me in the first place, though, surely you could’ve asked….erm,” he glanced around, thinking of someone to say. “Malfoy, or someone else. Don’t you have a bit of a thing for him?”

"Oh, you idiot—don't you see?" you breathed, the sound strangled in your throat.

"What? See what?" he demanded, eyes wild with anger. You had never seen him this angry before. You’d never really seen him show anything outwardly except for the usual cool, confident façade he plastered on.

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, trying to find any soft edge in them at all, but being left empty. You sighed in defeat, letting your eyes flicker to the ground.

"See what?" he demanded once more. He stepped closer to you and craned his neck to try and meet your eyes again. You scoffed and pushed him back.

"I'm not going to make myself look like a fucking fool if you don't know what I'm talking about, Tom!" you turned from him, crossing your arms. You gathered your robes from the floor and began to walk towards the door.

"What on Earth are you talking about—I don't understand. If you would just tell me—" he cut himself off, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. He pulled hard enough to wrench you to his chest. You pressed roughly to the hard material before backing away.

"Sorry," he muttered. You shook your head.

"Don't apologize, Tom. I—I just wish I didn't have to explain it to you."

"Please," he breathed, not breaking eye contact. You were sure he was so self-centered, he likely thought it was something relating to his reputation or something of the like. A professor talking badly about him, one of his friends spreading a rumor about his family, something.

You searched his eyes. The hard edges were all but gone and had been replaced with a cloud-like shape. His eyes bore so deeply into yours, that they might leave a scar. Your eyes flicked down to his lips briefly, wondering so desperately what they might taste like. Sure, he was a dick and made you so fucking mad, but when you thought of him, the thoughts were becoming less and less negative.

You prayed that anything you said would come out slowly after being perfectly calculated, but that so rarely happened.

"Tom, I—" you breathed. His lips parted slightly. His eyes searched yours. His brows knitted together. The silence between the two of you was heavy and pressed down on your shoulders like an anvil.

"Please just—"

And you pushed yourself to your toes and pressed your lips to his. He tasted every bit of what you’d always imagined. His lips were rough with a musky flavor coated with the tang from the apple he'd just finished. His lack of movement was devastating.

Your gut clenched and you accepted defeat. You pulled back and looked at his shocked expression. Well, this had easily been the worst night of your life and you thought it might be best if you discussed moving schools with Headmaster Dippet first thing in the morning. You stifled a wince and looked down. That was your cue to go.

"I'm sorry, I'm just going to—"

"No." He grabbed your arm, once more pulling you back to him. His lips found yours again. This time, he handled the movement, moving your lips just as he wanted and no other way. You wondered if he'd ever kissed anyone before.

You shyly placed your hands on his collar where the first button sat wide open. Your fingertips gently brushed his throat. He made a low humming sound that echoed in his neck, vibrating your fingers. His fingers found their way to your hair, curling his fingers tightly into each strand. In any other situation, it might’ve hurt, but in this one, it did nothing but push you on.

He tilted your head to the side with the strong grip against your scalp and effectively deepened the kiss. At this smoothened motion, you gasped against his mouth, to which he responded by walking you back into the stone walls and crushing you against them. His hands released your hair and quickly found your neck, holding your head staunchly in place while he painted your lips with his spit. As soon as you tried to rearrange your head’s placement, his thumbs came to rest on either side of your throat and began to press ever so gently. You sighed shakily, feeling the utter control he currently exerted over you. Your hands confidently moved forward to wrap themselves around his tight waist, feeling his hips stutter as you pulled them closer to you. His grip on your neck never once faltered. He pulled back.

“You think you can walk away from me?” he growled lowly, his lips capturing yours once more in a swift, rough bite. Blood pooled against your tongue. You stifled a whimper at the pain.

“You think you can just kiss me and then leave? That’s the end of it?” he spat, his fingers ever so slightly tightening around your neck. “No, that doesn’t fucking happen.”

Your lips parted weakly and you nodded fervently. Whatever it was he needed, wanted, said, you’d agree. You’d do anything to feel his lips on yours again. His eyes found your lips as your chin raised in an attempt to meet your mouths once again. A mocking smirk found its way onto his face. Dick.

“You are mine,” his chest rumbled against yours. Your eyes never left his, though they fluttered in anxiety. One of his hands left your throat and grabbed one of yours still curled around his waist. A tight grip on your wrist loosened your hold against him. He directed your hand up to his face as he watched your eyes closely. His lips came down to brush against your fingertips with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t look away.

“Say it,” he murmured against your fingers.

“What?” you whispered. His grip around your wrist tightened to a bruising clamp. Your eyes watered.

“Say that you’re mine.”

“If I do, will you kiss me again?” you nervously joked, trying to hide a laugh at the look he gave you. He all but rolled his eyes as he slowly pressed his head into the crook of your neck. He ghosted his lips along the surface of your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tilted your head to give him more access to you, every part of you. He gently dragged his lips up to your ear where he pressed a chaste kiss just below it. You shuddered.

“If you say that you’re mine, I will take you in this bathroom right now.”

Part Two

#harry potter #writing #fanfic #creative writing #fanfiction #harry potter smut #tom riddle #oneshot #christian coulson #slytherin #slytherin boys

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lovelycreativecrafts · 1 year

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Held Back Emotions | Illumi x Little Sister (Platonic)

Part 2

Word Count: 839

Synopsis: Illumi struggles with training her sister

Inspiration:

Bible Verse: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” - Matthew 6:21

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: This is part 1 of 2 parts. (Not sure if that made sense.)

Challenge: Febuwhump Challenge Hosted by @fanfictionlibrary01 and their discord server

Me and my brother’s friend silently walked down the sidewalk as my brother continuously complained about all the mistakes I made on the mission we just completed. During the mission there was one point where I let my guard down and would have been badly hurt if Illumi didn’t step in. During the time I was extremely grateful but after hearing him complain about it for so long, I wished that he didn’t save me. Wasn’t he at least a bit happy that I wasn’t terribly hurt?

“Are you listening to me?” Illumi questioned.

“Yes, Illumi,” I answered as something caught my eye.

A large brown and black butterfly softly landed on a pink flower. I stopped and slowly approached it. I crouched down and admired the beautiful butterfly. The colors on the butterfly danced as I stared at it. The brown turned to orange and red while the black seemed to turn purple. I slowly reached out my hand toward it but before I could touch it, Illumi stepped in front of me causing the sun to hide behind him and the beautiful creature to fly away.

“You’re showing your emotions again,” My brother stated.

“Sorry,” I held my head down and stared at the concrete.

Illumi POV

I stared down at my younger sister as her silver hair blew softly in the wind. Her hair was long and straight just like mine. She often wanted to cut her hair much like Kalluto because of how annoying it was to keep it up but I convinced her to keep it long. Her eyes were dark like mine but she always held emotions within those eyes, even when she tried to make her expression blank. I could always tell what she was thinking and that was unacceptable. At least, that’s what my parents would say.

“Follow me,” I ordered.

I quickly turned and made my way into the forest that wasn’t far from the sidewalk. I heard my sister’s footsteps behind me and I soon stopped walking. I turned to face my sister. My sister looked up at me with curiosity in her eyes despite me just scolding her about her expressions.

“I want you to fight me,” I stated.

My sister’s eyes widened, “What?”

She clenched the kimono she was wearing and I silently stared at her. I have never fought my younger sister nor have I harmed her before mostly because I never wanted to but in order for her to become stronger and survive, I had to do this.

“Illumi?” tears glossed my sister’s eyes and my chest tightened at her expression.

I ignored the feeling, “Sister, attack me.” I ordered.

My sister slowly got into her fighting stance and pulled out her katana. She positioned her sword in front of her and she stood still and stared into my eyes. I knew that she was hesitating.

I dashed toward her and my sister held her ground. She lifted her sword and swung her sword to cut me down but her sword stopped before it could touch me and I pulled my arm back and hit her in the middle of her chest. She then flew back and fell towards the ground.

She then got up and began to run away from me and before she get far she tripped and fell towards the ground. I slowly walked up to her and she positioned herself on her butt. Blood dripped from her scraped knee and I stopped in front of her and began to reach toward her. My sister’s eyes widened and she froze. Is she afraid of me?

“Big brother, I can’t.” My sister whispered as tears began to fall from her eyes.

I stopped and narrowed my eyes at her.

“I don’t want to fight,” Her voice shook.

My chest began to tighten again and I stared at her. Her face was drenched with tears. I hated tears, they showed that you were weak and vulnerable but when she cried it felt that she still trusted me. Despite everything I’ve done to her, what my parents have done to her. I knew that I needed to mold her to be strong and powerful, it was my duty. I have already failed Killua, I could at least make it right with my sister.

My sister stared into my eyes as I took a step toward her. “Brother, m-my knee hurts?” She sniffed.

I stopped. I can’t. I put my arm down and began to walk away from her. How could I hurt my dear younger sister? I know I was supposed to train to make her the head of the family. That’s what her silver hair represented. I knew it was my purpose, my reason for living but-

“Hm, did you leave your dear sister in there?” A sly voice asked.

I looked toward Hisoka, “I’m punishing her for not attacking me.” I lied.

“Really? How cruel.” Hisoka commented.

I ignored his comment and began walking away from him. What am I supposed to do?

#illumi x reader #hunter x hunter fanfic #anime fanfic #x reader #fanfiction writing #christian fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction challenge #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #platonic relationships

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ametrinearrows · 7 months

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United Victories

One busy evening backstage at a WWE event, I had been running around, attending to various tasks, and handling last-minute changes to my match. As I finally took a moment to catch my breath, Jay approached me with a relieved look on his face.

"YN, there you are!" he exclaimed.

I smiled as I turned to him, appreciating the familiarity of his presence. "Hey, Jay. What's up?"

He let out a sigh of relief, his tone filled with concern. "I was looking all over for you. I heard there were some changes to your match, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I nodded, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Yeah, there were a few adjustments, but I've got it under control."

Jay's brows furrowed as he studied me closely. "You sure? You don't look like you've had a moment to breathe."

I chuckled softly, grateful for his caring nature. "I've been a bit swamped, but that's just how it goes sometimes in the WWE."

He reached out to squeeze my shoulder, his expression filled with support. "Well, you know I've got your back, right?"

I smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude for my brother. "I do, Jay. And I appreciate it more than you know."

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Good. Now, let's go grab a quick bite to eat before your match. You need to refuel."

I couldn't help but laugh as I followed him, knowing that no matter how chaotic our lives were in the WWE, having Jay as my brother meant I never had to face it all alone.

After a much-needed quick meal with Jay, I headed to the ring for my match. The familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I prepared to step into the spotlight. The crowd's energy was electrifying, and I knew I had a challenging opponent ahead.

As the match unfolded, I could hear the cheers and jeers from the WWE Universe, their support fueling my determination. I exchanged powerful moves with my opponent, each of us pushing our limits to deliver an unforgettable performance.

In the midst of the action, I spotted Jay at ringside, his presence serving as a source of motivation. We made eye contact, and he offered a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to me.

The match reached its climax, and I executed my finishing move, securing the victory to the delight of the crowd. As my hand was raised in triumph, Jay entered the ring, a proud smile on his face.

He gave me a quick hug, his voice filled with pride. "That was amazing, YN! You killed it out there!"

I grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Thanks, Jay. Having you here made all the difference."

He winked playfully. "Well, I had to make sure my little sister was doing okay."

We shared a laugh, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for Jay's unwavering support. Our bond as siblings had always been a source of strength, and moments like these, when we could celebrate each other's successes, were truly special.

As we left the ring together, I knew that in the unpredictable world of WWE, having Jay by my side was a constant I could always count on. Our sibling connection was a rock-solid foundation that gave me the courage to face whatever challenges lay ahead, both in and out of the ring.

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i-belswan09 · 12 days

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anitalenia · 16 days

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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. ₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ✧˚ ༘

— 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖘 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 𝘥𝘤 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

˚☽˚｡⋆ 𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑. The silence was too loud and his room was too cold — his arms and torso were left bare to freeze thanks to you (he was too much of a gentleman to snatch the blanket off you anyway). The heavy rain smacked into his windows pointedly and purposefully; with every loud drop it made his lip twitch in annoyance.

The air was sharp and frosted, it burned his nose when he breathed in too deeply and it made him wonder if Alfred forgot to turn the heat on — better yet if you turned it off, knowing you hated to fall asleep too warm and Alfred was too meticulous and thorough to forget to turn it off at all.

It was dingy and dismal, dark and dreary just as Bruce preferred it to be, so little going on for him to be so awake and agitated but yet… maybe that was just it. The silence, the boredom, the macabre sense of monotony on an unfamiliarly quiet Saturday night — so little going on it was driving him mad.

Bruce stared up at the ceiling with his arms laid out on his shirtless stomach, restless but tired. His limbs were sore and heavy, his body bruised and battered, yet his dark eyes couldn’t help but flicker over to his window ever so often when he thought about what was on the other side of it — the source of his calamity.

He’d stare through the droplets of water at the blurred kaleidoscope of lights as they shone onto his floor, not eagerly per say just habitually; Bruce seldom ever saw a peaceful night in, so unaccustomed with the sweet domesticity of crawling under the covers at 10:30 pm and kissing your lover goodnight — he was usually so busy, for Gotham never slept and crime never seemed to stop.

No, Bruce couldn’t sleep; his thoughts a morbid mess of batman-esque obligation that made it impossible to close his eyes.

You were a different matter entirely as Bruce turned his head to look at you; snuggled up on your side of the large bed with his thick, black comforter surrounding you, breathing gently on the muscle of his shoulder and sleeping soundly, beautifully.

His pretty little wife.

His eyes looked over the sharp shadows of your sleeping beauty. From your wispy eyelashes, to your cute little nose, to your softly parted lips, a soft smile adorning the corner of his mouth as he did — he couldn’t help it.

Your hair was frizzy and tangled messily around your head, your soft breaths ever so often stuttered with an adorable snore but Bruce couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked anyway as he raked his eyes over your face fondly.

As he did he realized how grateful he was that you didn’t need to worry yourself with the things that he did; you were too innocent for the cruelty of Gotham City, too pure and divine; an angel wrapped in wicked tapestry.

Even now, in your pale white pajamas on black silken sheets you looked too fragile for them, like they could wrap their shadowy arms around you and swallow you whole — just as the city could so easily do if he wasn’t there to protect you.

If Batman wasn’t there to save you.

I don’t care, Bruce. I love you anyway.

That’s what you’d always say when Bruce would settle down in bed beside you with a heavy sigh and whisper why do you stay?, on those long nights when he’d come home brutally battered and fatigued. After a night of being heavily reminded to the real dangers waiting just outside his door like a pack of feral dogs and how easily they could ensnare you in their jaws.

I don’t care. I love you.

He loved you too, he really very did.

With that final thought, Bruce was still caught staring at you with a soft look of love on his face when you gently fluttered your eyes open, your body sensing his awareness before your mind could.

He watched patiently as you groggily looked around before eventually meeting his gaze, his eyes getting even softer at the adorable look of confusion on your face.

Your eyes tiredly looked back up at him despite the darkness surrounding you two, able to see his frowned lips and dark eyes clearly, “Bruce? Why are you still awake?”

Your voice was raspy and tired, a small yawn following your statement that made pity tear at his heart for waking you up.

Bruce ran his hazel eyes over your face some more before he responded, unable to stop cherishing you.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He simply responded, voice low and intimate, words spoken in the bare space between his lips and yours.

You settled into your silken pillow with a small huff, eyes focused more on Bruce’s face now as the grogginess gradually melted away and your vision became clearer — the silence and rain thrumming calmly around you. It wasn’t a normal night in Gotham City without the rain.

“Well, did you try?” You teased just as quietly as he, smiling a little at the chuckle he gave you in response.

“Yes, of course I tried. It clearly didn’t go as planned.” Bruce mumbled back with a faint snicker, speaking just loud enough so you can hear him over the rain pattering on the windows, a small smile now quirked on his sharp lips.

You hummed in acknowledgment, eyes looking between his, knowing Bruce well enough to know when he was lying.

“I don’t really believe you. What’s keeping you awake?” You sighed with furrowed brows, resting your head right next to his bare shoulder to look up at him better — maybe if you pouted in that cute way he liked he’d tell you honestly.

Bruce faltered at that, looking down at you with a heavy heart; he couldn’t possibly tell you that he felt guilty laying in bed with you when he should’ve been out there, out there protecting those who needed him. But the fact of the matter, one he couldn’t argue with, was that you needed him as well.

He couldn’t possibly tell you how conflicted he really was but probably shouldn’t have been; two parts of him sharing the same mind and body but each with entirely different obligations — the irreconcilable duality that was he.

One part of him was Bruce Wayne; millionaire, orphan, husband, you needed that side of him, you deserved to have him for at least one night. But he was also Batman, and Gotham always needed him.

He was haunted with a classic case of Jekyll and Hyde but instead of one side lusting for murderous intent his alter ego longed for rightful justice in the grandest city of injustice. Batman was the only one who could live harmoniously in the dark, the only one capable of doing the things he did. It was an enervative dichotomous life of matrimonial duties and moral obligation.

There were two men sharing the same halves of the same soul and Bruce couldn’t decide which heart to listen to without making the other one feel guilty.

“Just work stuff, honey. It’s nothing you need to worry about, trust me.” Bruce dismissed after a short moment, shaking his head gently with a reassuring smile on his thin lips — like that could convince you of anything.

You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, registering the slight blue bags under his eyes and the crippled fault in his smile, all small clues of his devious, well-intentioned deception.

“Which work stuff?” You prodded carefully, raising a brow at him as suspicions already began to brew in the back of your mind as to what he was really referring.

Bruce chuckled again at that, loving your caring and inquisitive nature any day but wishing you’d just drop it already. He really couldn’t bear weighing any of the pressure he carried on your delicate shoulders, fearing you’d crumble under the weight of it.

“Really, it’s…” Bruce looked back up at the ceiling in indecision, searching for the right words, “it’s nothing I can’t handle, okay?” He looked back down at you with confidence, his voice firmer than before but still softly spoken to get his point across.

You narrowed your eyes at him with that, knowing it was a response you fully expected but were still annoyed to hear.

You were aware that he was lying to you but also aware that he wouldn’t tell you no matter how much you begged him; he never liked to tell you anything about his Batman related problems and it greatly frustrated you for some reason.

As his wife didn’t you deserve to know at least something? You were fully aware of what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to his long awaited proposal. After all, you didn’t just marry Bruce Wayne but you married Batman as well… you could handle the truth even if he didn’t seem to think so.

You sighed anyway, unable to mask your irritation towards him for keeping you in the dark. Your lack of sleep didn’t help the influx of annoyance either.

You took your head off his warm shoulder and went to turn around away from him, your fatigue easily irritating you more than usual.

Bruce licked his lips and sighed, having already disappointed you in an attempt to protect you; a small price to pay if it meant your pretty little head wasn’t clogged with constant, pained disquietude like his was.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” You muttered more to yourself than anything, fussing with the blanket you had wrapped yourself in during your slumber and now seemed to be stuck in.

Before you could fully turn around though Bruce laid a warm, consoling hand on your forearm that made you pause, “Hey, hey, wait.”

You lingered a moment at the feel of it before turning back around to face him, expression a little more sour than before — tired and impatient.

Bruce felt guilt swirl in his stomach at the look on your face, knowing he was disappointing you but also knowing it was for the best.

He kept the hand on your arm, leaning up and wrapping it around your back to bring you into his chest, his other arm going behind your neck and tucking you into his side like you were his most precious doll — you were of course.

You didn’t fight him even if you wanted to, enjoying the warmth he provided and the safety you subconsciously sought out snuck tight in between his arms.

“Bruce.” You grumbled anyway as you settled against him, his arm releasing you for a moment to pick the blanket up and over his waist so there was nothing separating you two from each other.

You felt hard plains of muscle underneath you when he did, a flustered pinkness appearing on your cheeks, then slowly crept in hot embarrassment at the fact that your husband’s carefully structured body that you’ve seen many many times still managed to make you shy.

You melted into his side, albeit a bit stiffly as you were still annoyed with him and wanted to blatantly show it, your arms stubbornly slotted against your chest to separate yourself from laying completely on his.

When Bruce was done adjusting the blanket, the bed moving as he did, he settled still and looked down at you with those kind eyes of his you loved so much, the ones that always flustered you when you stared back into them for too long.

The arm behind your neck pushed you closer to him while he took his right hand and wrapped it around your chin, his palm so warm and big against your jaw that you couldn’t help but sigh in submission.

Bruce gently forced you to look up at him, his eyes staring down at you softly but earnestly.

“Alright, hey, don’t be like that with me. If there was something I thought you really needed to know I’d tell you. Otherwise, it’s best I keep that side of myself as private from you as possible. I hate the thought of you being in danger because of me, because I exposed you to that side of myself you didn’t need to see.” Bruce whispered genuinely, minty breath fanning over your nose as you stared up at him, seemingly calm now and even just a little regretful for being so upset with him in the first place.

“Just give it a rest honey, alright? I promise you, it’s nothing you need to worry about. Do I ever go back on my promises, hmm?” He said sweetly, looking down at you with insistent but loving eyes in the expectation of you responding.

You paused for a moment as you registered his words, still curious to know what he was really thinking about because you just couldn’t help it. You worried for him, wished he’d be more open with you so you could help him in whatever way you could. However, you also didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was either, your mind picturing all the purple bruises littering his beautiful body pitifully.

So, you just shook your head like a scolded child, “No… you don’t.” You’d have to bite your tongue for now, pouting up at him cutely — Bruce was just too sweet to argue with sometimes and he knew it.

Bruce gave you a charming smile, gray shadow washed over the angles of his straight nose and narrow cheeks. His brown hair was more unkempt than usual, wavy tendrils of it fallen around his face. He looked so handsome, more tranquil this way, as he leaned down and gave you a peck on the forehead, a sweet hum sounding in the back of his throat.

“That’s my girl.”

You sighed happily, giving in to him completely now and wrapping an arm around his chest so you could burrow against him; he wrapped his arm around you tighter instinctually, enjoying the feel of you against him as he looked up at the ceiling in content.

Nothing was better than being with you, so much so that Batman himself felt satiated from his lonely perch in the back of Bruce’s mind.

You stared out the large, arched window on his wall for a few quiet moments, watching as the rain quickly fell down the glass one by one as Bruce softly traced his textured fingertips along the spine of your back.

“It always rains, you ever notice that?” You murmured tiredly against his skin, in a daze from the tingling sensation on your skin as he caressed your back in gentle, loving touches.

Bruce looked away from you a moment when you spoke to spare the window a disinterested glance, “What? You don’t like the rain, Mrs. Wayne?” He teased you, his spirits higher than before as he looked back down at you even if you couldn’t see, his nose filled with the sweet smelling shampoo you used — coconut and vanilla.

You smiled a little — you loved when he called you that.

“Well of course you do. You’re Batman, you’re supposed to like depressing things.” You spoke with a smile, only teasing him as your eyes drifted shut from the comfort of his body against yours, muscles melting against the black sheets nestled between his own.

Bruce chucked at that, his hand ceasing its calming motion, “oh, is that right?”

You hummed with an amused smile on your lips, nodding your head, “mmhmm, yes sir.”

Bruce scoffed playfully at that, looking down at you with a fond playfulness in his eyes before gently taking his muscled arm out from underneath your head.

You lifted your head up curiously to look at him, wishing for the moment to not be disturbed, only to be gently rolled over so that Bruce was laid on top of you and you were now sunken into the inky black abyss of cushions beneath him. Your lips parted in a slight gasp, staring up at him with those beautiful eyes he loved so much in surprise.

“Now now, Mrs. Wayne, don’t go calling me that unless you plan on doing something about it, it’s in bad taste.”

You giggled at that, a joyous and twinkling sound that made Bruce tense up, his eyes darting towards your lips and his heart quickening in his chest. You always had such an effect on him even if you didn’t know it.

“How ‘bout you do something about it then?” You whispered up to him sensually, voice low and playful. You could feel the air surrounding the little bubble you two found yourselves in change heavily as you ran your hands softly over his midsection, his light skin cold and soft, muscles hard and firm as you traced your fingers delicately over each individual ab until Bruce was twitching at the feeling.

He glanced down at your hands hotly, already worked up from your minuscule touches alone, his skin tingling from the sensation as a familiar heat started to twirl in his lower tummy.

He looked back down at you, eyes more hooded now but just as eagerly as rain pounded on the windows somewhere in the background — you couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of his warm breaths and the gradual throbbing between your own legs.

“Yeah? Would you like if I did something about it, Mrs. Wayne?” Your husband mumbled huskily, a teasing smirk on his lips as he lowered down closer until his face was just above yours, his big arms pressed into the pillow on each side of your head so you were surrounded by him.

He could see the way you inhaled at the name, felt the way your nails dug into his skin for a subtle, fleeting moment. He always knew all the right ways to turn you on, knew all the right words to say to make you melt in his hands like warm syrup — you were certainly just as sweet.

You stared up at your husband with heavy breaths, mouth watering for a taste of him, eyes blown black with love and unabashed want as he sat in the reflection of your irises. Your skin felt hot and your thighs tightened around his waist, arms aimlessly tracing the ridges of muscle that coated Bruce’s front; it was in an innocently naive way now, so unaware of how badly it was affecting Bruce himself as your initial confidence dwindled down to need.

You impatiently waited for him to make a move, give into the desire you both so clearly felt as your eyes ran over his shirtless body and perfect face in the mean time. With every exhale of breath out of his mouth you found yourself inhaling it back in, breathing his air and smelling of Bruce’s aftershave, Bruce’s shampoo, it was all just Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.

He had completely overwhelmed your senses with his smell, his presence, his very existence and it was making it hard to think clearly — only he plagued your thoughts so much it made your fingertips buzz to feel more of him.

It was in moments like these where the sheer size of Bruce was brought to your attention; he was much more muscular than you, all sharp edges and ridges of pure muscle and destruction that could destroy anything he put his hands on.

It was ironic to you, how those same hands that broke bones were the same hands that caressed your skin in the softest of touches, in the softest of ways, irrevocably incapable of breaking you.

Bruce believed he was all carnal ruination — hands made to break and fists made to destroy. He believed he had a dark side in him he couldn’t control, that Batman was the outlet for all the frustration he felt towards the injustices of the city and how easily it corrupted the lightest of souls. He believed he was made to hurt, to cause ruin — a reason why he never took a single human soul no matter how rotten it was.

But you believed he didn’t give himself enough credit, which is exactly why moments like these were so important to remind him.

You swallowed nervously now as you looked back into his eyes, your fingers faltering in their movement as they stilled on the angles of his hips, right outside the tight band of his black sweatpants.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne, that’s exactly what I want.” You whispered back up to him in a velvety soft tone, eyes looking at his pink lips and then flickering back up between his hazel irises lustfully; the look in them was too intense for you to handle but you sufficed, your heart thrumming passionately under your skin at the attention.

Bruce almost melted at the name, just as affected by the title as you were, lowering his face down until his nose was touching yours, his lips hovering right above your own.

“That’s my girl…” Bruce breathed thickly against your lips, his eyes flickering to your mouth as yours did the same to his, your mouth salivating for a taste of him.

A silent beat passed as you both just stayed in that position, locked into each other’s loving gazes and gentle touches, his lips just a whisper away from yours screaming to have you, to taste you. It was intimate and warm, quiet, your body feeling fuzzy and alight with something similar to deep admiration and not so far from a deep, shared love for each other.

There was no playfulness about it now.

It was then, when the tension had sizzled into flame did Bruce finally lean down and kiss you, his lips soft and cold, so contrasting from the warmth he sought in yours as the rain pattered on the windows and your angelic essence drowned him further into the depths of you.

You moaned softly, feeling relief flood through you as your hands gripped his hips for some sort of anchor off the clouds you seemed to be floating on. Bruce kissed you lovingly, a characteristic act of tenderness as he found his own needy noises hum in the back of his throat.

It was sweet and slow, lips careful and gentle against each other between delicate sighs and hums. He tasted of peppermint and the faint drawl of bourbon, his tongue damping your lips and your shared saliva wet on your mouths.

He seperated from you just for a short moment, your lips feeling the loss but not for too long before he was on you once more with a fervor, tongue molding between your lips forcefully and sucking yours into the warmth of his mouth.

You whined at the sudden confidence within him, lips barely moving against his as he took control of your movements and gave you no other option but to take what he gave you — his lips and his tongue tangling with yours messily as sensual rumbles sounded deep from within in his chest.

He brought a hand down from the pillow and intertwined it in your hair, tangling his thick fingers into your roots and pulling hard enough to arouse you further. It made your back arch and lips part in a salacious gasp.

Bruce found himself unable to part from your delectable taste for long, taking that moment to reconnect his damp lips to the skin between your chin and shoulder. He forced your head back as he kissed your neck, the cold air hitting every damp spot in a pleasurable tingling sensation that had your nails digging into his abs.

“Bruce…” You sighed oh so sweetly in a distracted state of mind, just wanting to say his name and have him hear how good he was making you feel with his simple kisses alone — a feat he always accomplished anytime he did.

The praise didn’t fall on deaf ears but he was too preoccupied with the sound of your heavy breaths and whines to really pay attention, too love drunk on the smoothness of your skin falling over his tongue as he licked his way down to your collarbone. He released his grip on your hair and his hands made idle work in caressing their way down your body to the hem of your white pajama top.

His hands were eager, so familiar on the curves of your body as they slid back up to your chest, hands big and desperate as they tightly gripped your bosom for a fleeting moment that had you moaning at the sting — he was handsy, unable to get enough of you and the way your body perfectly slotted between the strength and ridges of his hands.

His cock was already hard in his slacks, poking against your thigh absentmindedly as his hands dug into the center of your top and adamantly ripped it right down the middle. The buttons flew over the bed and your tits spilled out of the ripped material in a gorgeous ripple of flesh that had Bruce groaning at the sight.

“So beautiful, so gorgeous, just fucking perfect…” He mumbled in a lustful daze, more to himself as a factual observation, his hands now gripping your waist, eager mouth leaning down and making quick work to lap at your chest in the way he knew you liked.

You giggled dreamily at that, feeling fluttery and lightheaded at the praise, body warm and melting like a cube of butter on top of his silk bed sheets. He was always capable of making you melt with just a few loving words and caresses, another one of his talents.

Your hands had found their way into his thick hair, massaging at the loose strands when you decided it was impossible to stay still from the buzzing running through your pores.

Your pussy throbbed in your pajama shorts, painfully so, stomach in tight knots at the sparks shooting down to your core from his ministrations.

He found himself enthralled by the feeling of your tit in his mouth, fervently sucking on the skin there as his hands gripped into your waist so tight in a subconsciously possessive hold so you could never leave. Maybe it was the semblance of Batman himself leaking out from under tight fingertips, a degree of fierce protection in the way he held you underneath him, unable to be taken or destroyed by the same evil he fought almost every night.

You were here with him, with him and all of his burdens for the rest of your lives.

“So gorgeous…”

Bruce was lost in the pleasure you helplessly moaned in his ears, feeling his own mutual desire swirling in his tummy and thrumming through his skin that made every touch feel like fire, every kiss an ember from the flame until you and him were intertwined ash lost in the black smoke.

He loved you, his pretty wife, always so supportive and forgiving in the moments he definitely didn’t deserve it.

He picked his head up, panting and lips wet, your chest littered in pink marks and damp with his spit as Bruce licked his lips, hungry for more already.

You looked at him in all his glory, admiringly, just as enamored with him as he was with you as your warm hands slid down to his cheeks. Your own were flushed pink and feverish, breath warm and heavy as you lovingly ran your palm over his sharp cheekbone. His skin was soft, smooth and tepid under your dainty fingertips.

You gently caressed the faint purple of a bruise with your thumb, right in the hollow of his eye.

Bruce leaned into the tender action for a spared moment of comfort, his eyes hooded and twinkling in the dark as he breathed heavily against your lips. He kept finding himself absent in the presence of your beauty, staring at your face and your lips and being so thankful he had you at all.

“So beautiful…” He breathed gingerly, eyes looking over your face like he was seeing you for the first time — no, he was selfish in his blatant admiration of your magnificence, his heart throbbing almost painfully in his love for you as he watched the soft corners of your mouth twist into a shy smile at your devotees idolatrous attention.

He leaned down after a fond moment of your thumb tracing his cheekbone, after he was satisfied with his generous intake of your prettiness. He pecked an affectionate kiss on your smiling lips before dipping his head down and laying several kisses to your neck once more.

You bit your lip at the sensitive feeling, closing your eyes, lost in the feel of him, as he pampered you with doting kisses all the way down to your ribcage, his hands now playing with the hem of your shorts but not too boldly as to take them off quite yet.

“You’re everything, you know that? I could never imagine my life without you… you’re perfect, so perfect.” He rubbed your stomach adoringly, “Your body is perfect, so beautiful, I can’t believe you ever married me…” He mumbled in that rough voice of his, vulnerable in the night, in the moment when you couldn’t see him all the way clearly but he could see all of you just fine.

You could feel another smile playing on your lips — not that it had even left — the heavy sensation of happy tears casting a light sheen over your eyes. He was the perfect one, he was the gorgeous and beautiful counterpart of you that didn’t seem to realize his own value. You only wished you had the poetic spark in yourself that he had, then you’d be able to voice it properly. Still, his praise made your heart swell as he took your left hand and kissed the diamond ring on your finger amorously.

“Oh, Bruce…” You spoke in a hushed manner, voice wobbling from the overwhelming infatuation you had for the man, so thankful and grateful for such a man as wonderful as he. In your eyes the sudden romance had come out of nowhere, but it was still greatly appreciated as it caused your voice to thicken with the downpour of love it had spiked.

He looked into your eyes as he warmly kissed your palm, lips quirked slightly, eliciting another tender hearted smile from you. He then let you settle your hands back on his shoulders as he slotted himself between your hips, the affectionate moment lingering in the air as you pet his wide shoulders.

You were laid on your back, smooth thighs spread to accommodate his size between them, pajama top ripped down the middle in fragmented material hanging off your shoulders, your tits pooled on your chest and wet with his kisses. Your hair was tangled, fanned around your head, lips pink and plushy from all his salacious kisses, your eyes glittering erotically bright.

Despite that, you were not uncomfortable to be so exposed to him, exposed in a way you’d only ever be with him. You knew he would never judge you nor your body, that he loved you and all your freckles and scars and all the blemishes you considered imperfections — he loved them all. The only part of you not seen were covered by the shorts Bruce was already eager to take off.

You were beautiful to him, ethereal even, just as he said you were an angel, something divine and pure, a holy deity completely out of this world that transcended the mortal plane he was bound to, letting his lowly lips and hands cherish your merciful soul and body. Just oh so perfect.

“I love you…” You whispered, pathetically cute, down to him, a whisper wafting into his ears soft and fragile as if you were scared he wouldn’t say it back — he’d say it everyday for a thousand years if he had the blessing of living that long with you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulsing with need, as you smiled down at him sweetly.

“I love you more, Mrs. Wayne… I love you more…” He breathed hotly against your stomach, already leaning down and peppering sugarcoated kisses along your pelvis, so much closer to where you really needed him that the throbbing had become unbearably intense, wetness soaking your inner thighs and cream colored shorts. You felt your body shiver at the title once more.

You swallowed shakily as Bruce moved down, his daft fingers hooking into the band of your shorts and gently shoving them down to your knees as his longing lips reached the band of your lavender laced panties.

Your thighs tightened around his head as cool air hit your wet center, your body sensitive and pulsing heavy notes of desire straight into your pussy that made it hard to keep your head up and eyes open.

You just needed him, needed him and his expert mouth to bring you some sort of relief. Your toes were curled already, pussy clenching around nothing and spewing out clear juices that only damped your underwear further. You tangled your fingers into his hair heatedly, resisting the urge to shove his head down where you really wanted him.

Bruce swallowed hungrily, staring at your panty-clad pussy with dark eyes. He could smell your sweetness on his nose, the rain pattering on the windows still and the room still dark as sin but he could see his heaven clear as day, hypnotized by the patch of wetness in your panties, molded to the shape of your pussy lips and begging to be ripped apart.

His eyes flickered up to you, feeling your grabby fingers tangled in his hair as your thighs tensed back and forth around his neck.

Your head was barely held up, eyes hooded and sparkling with a form of lustful desperation as you stared down at him. Your chest bobbing up and down heavily and your skin radiant and smooth, the city lights from his window blurredly reflected in the fat of your cheeks. You already looked destroyed, like he had just fucked your brains out yet he really hadn’t done a thing.

“Bruce, come on…” You whined in a delicate plea when he made no movement further, hands barely pulling his hair but it was hard enough for his skin to prickle in pleasure, a hiss leaving his lips, just hard enough to get your message across.

He snickered at that, lips shiny and jaw chiseled, his face so sharp yet soft at the same time. His beauty greatly perplexed you for how could a mere mortal be so fucking handsome? He was though, he was strong and big and riddled with scars and imperfections yet the accumulation of all those little faults are what made him flawless.

Bruce himself felt the throbs of impatience nestled in his stomach, burrowed in his heart, buzzing at his fingertips, as he looked down at your pussy once more just inches from his mouth, both wet and watering for the other.

“Be patient, honey. I just wanna look at ‘cha first. You’re so pretty, dripping wet for me…” He had the audacity to murmur in that cocky voice of his, yet simultaneously genuine and stunned at the observation as his hands rubbed your thighs, being sure to heartily press into the tissue in that way he knew you liked.

You couldn’t help but pull his hair some more, bursting at the seams for some sort of pleasure you feared it would boil over and you’d explode. You felt frustration settle through your veins once more like molten lava, your skin tensing and thighs aching from their tight grip around his neck.

“Bruce, no more teasing, please? Just please…” You moaned and whined like a stubborn girl, voice thick with need and painful yearning that made his cock twitch in his pants. You almost sounded broken, voice fragmented with a certain torment only his mouth and fingers could appease.

He licked his lips, feeling desire swell in his lower tummy at the state of you — already so incapable of any thought but the memory of his cock inside you, the feeling of his fingers drilling into your tight hole as he spat and licked on your sensitive clit. It was all you could think about, all you could picture in your mind as your head laid back on the pillows and you scooted down the bed until your pussy was right in his face.

The blanket had long since been forgotten, bunched around his hips and aiding as a nice cushion for his abdomen hunched over the end of the bed.

Bruce felt himself chuckle huskily at your shameless neediness, his big hands stopping on your plush inner thighs as he settled down between your legs on the soft mattress, getting himself comfortable for you.

You breathed heavily, eyes closed as you laid back on the silken pillow with your face crumbled so cutely. He was such a tease even when he was meant to be sweet, even when he was insistent on being a good husband who doted on his wife whenever he could — you guessed growing up rich gave him that arrogant edge.

Your stomach was knotted so tight, your skin hot and shivering for some sort of touch as your fingers dug themselves into the roots of his damp, brown hair. You needed him so bad, but your pussy needed him worse.

You felt your thighs tickle as Bruce lightly traced the pads of his fingers down, down, down until he was at the crook of your inner thigh, his right hand digging into the flesh of your leg like he himself couldn’t hold back from you anymore.

Bruce didn’t bother voicing any teasing quips or dirty statements, knowing you were so out of it you wouldn’t listen to him anyway. Every fiber of your being was hooked on his touches, hyper aware of the spots his fingers trickled across, eager for some degree of pleasure that would make this painful waiting period worth it.

He swallowed down the salvia pooling in his throat, so hungry for a taste of you, starved almost. His index finger hooked into your panties and delicately pushed them out of the way until they were bunched in the crook of your thigh. His eyes were met with your soaking wet slit in all its glory.

White, creamy arousal stuck to your panties and dripped down your pulsing hole into the crack of your ass, sheer white beads of cum dribbled down your needy hole that would escape his tongue before he even got a proper taste of you yet.

The cool air made you whine behind closed lips, your voice high pitched and desperate now, your fingers tighter in his hair as your hips subtly bucked forward. The beautiful noises you were making made Bruce’s jaw clench.

You were glistening, shiny with arousal and the strings of impenitent want, evidence of your desire and love for him as he found himself inhaling the scent of you once more.

You smelt so good. He found himself groaning at the musky sweetness, his finger still hooked around the crotch of your panties as his other hand tightly gripped your thigh — you moaned softly at the pressure, sure that there would be the faint yellow bruises of his adoring fingerprints pressed into your skin tomorrow. A charming reminder of the evening when they blossomed.

You felt your core clench once more, thighs tensing up as wetness shone in his greedy irises.

Bruce was unable to wait any longer, his mouth salivating and his eyes blown black as he pressed his tongue into your wet hole and licked a bold stripe all the way up to your buzzing clit, the taste of your arousal pooled on his tongue and already dripping down the sharp corners of his mouth.

You couldn’t stop the loud moan from echoing in the room, euphoric sounding as sweet sparks went off all over your skin at the long awaited contact. Your fingers tightly anchored themselves in Bruce’s hair as his tongue went up and down your folds, gathering as much of your wetness in his mouth as he could.

His hands swiftly dug themselves into your hips to hold you down once you started writhing in his hold. His tongue forcefully circled your clit in sharp wet strokes, deep rumbled moans escaping his chest that vibrated the sensitivity of it and only made more wetness gush out of you and soak his chin.

You tasted so good, so fucking good; he wanted nothing more than to be drowned in your essence, choking on everything you gave him until his belly was full and even then he wouldn’t be satisfied, he’d never be satisfied. He was like a monster, chasing every little drop of cum that pebbled out of your clenching hole with a forked tongue, greedy and carnivorous like you were the only nectar he ever wanted to taste again.

His tongue lapped your pussy once more as you gasped, back arched and toes clenched as he thrusted his tongue into you over and over, wet and messily as your juices shimmered on his cheeks and lips.

No, he decided, the beast within him would never be tamed.

You bucked away from his mouth in a pathetic attempt to free yourself from the overwhelming pleasure, but Bruce held you down with his strong arms, staring up at you with furrowed brows of concentration as his lips molded over your puffy clit once more, swollen from need and his relentless licking.

He was nothing if not devoted, devoted to your elegance, to your holy figure and endless love as he lapped at you desperately, his tongue swirling your clit as the fabric of your panties tickled his nose. He couldn’t get enough, pushing deeper and harder until your wetness was messily smeared on his mouth and face, eating more and tasting more until his entire being was smothered with your cum inside and out.

“Bruce, o-oh my god!” You squealed wantonly, one hand now gripping the black sheets between tight fingers as your other hand remained in his hair, following the movements of his head as he went up and down, side to side until not an inch of you wasn’t covered in his salvia.

He breathed hotly against you, his eyes closed as he savored the feel of you in his mouth and trickling down his throat. He couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t listen to reason as all he could focus on was you and your cum, tasting you, licking you, having you in every sense of the word. No one could tear him away from you, not now, not when he was so close to having you cum in his mouth and reaching his final purpose.

You were so close, you could feel it in your tummy. Your hole clenching around his tongue as he went back and forth from your clit and your soaked hole, wanting to pleasure you but simultaneously wanting to taste you for his own pleasure.

Your toes curled, stomach tightened, hands gripping the sheets as your mouth flew open in sporadic moans and gasps, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your thighs squeezed around Bruce so tight you’d fear he’d never surface from between your legs again.

He wouldn’t have a problem with that.

Bruce picked his head up only high enough to talk, lips dripping and almost incoherent as he mumbled deeply into the wet folds of your pussy like he couldn’t bear to part, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Come on, Mrs. Wayne, make me proud, cum in my mouth.” As he voiced this his one hand crept down and slyly inserted themselves into the tight confine of your warmth, his index and middle fingers pushing inside you, so long and so big it made you cry out.

It was wet and warm, your juices slapping against his knuckles as he circled his fingers inside you, pushing on the spot he knew he was supposed to as his mouth eagerly returned to your clit. He looked up at you, eyes dark and heavy as he stared at your tits jiggling with every thrash of your hips, every arch of your back and every gasp out of your pretty, dampened lips.

He groaned into you at the sight, feeling his cock achingly hard in his pants as he sucked your clit into the warmth of his mouth and refused to let go, tongue prodding the area skillfully and harshly. He wasn’t going to stop this time, not until you were creaming around his fingers and leaking down his neck.

The air was so thick and stuffy that you couldn’t help but pant fervently, your body prickled with pleasure and overwhelming sensations that made it hard to focus on anything but his fingers inside you, long and lithe, slipping in and out as the sounds of your wetness clouded your ears and muffled your moans.

Bruce himself was lost in you, tongue and lips a glistening mess as they lapped and circled and sucked every part of your pussy exposed to him, it felt so good it stung — he was groaning into you softly, pleasure building in his tummy and rumbling through his mouth to your already so sensitive clit.

It was then, just a few short moments after his fingers wormed their way inside your tight walls, just a few short moments after he sucked your clit into his mouth did you feel your stomach relax, thighs squeeze around his head so hard he felt himself go dizzy.

“Ahh, O-oh my god, Bruce!” You moaned so blissfully, so sweetly, as your juices squirted onto his chin and his fingers squelched inside you.

Bruce moaned at the feeling, fingers gently sliding out of your clenching hole so his tongue could catch all the cum pouring out. You whimpered at the feeling of his mouth still on you, lapping at your hole like a dehydrated villager kneeling at a prosperous fountain, your skin pasty and so so hot.

He lapped at your pussy a few more times, up and down, ensuring he got his fill for the evening as faint tremors wracked your body in the aftershocks of his giving nature. You were flat on the bed now, belly sore from the tightness it held for so long, legs limp and body spent as you panted gently, heart throbbing in your ears.

You managed to lazily caress his sweaty hair though as Bruce surfaced from between your legs, face glistening and lips sore and pink. He looked manic, hair pulled and tangled and messily scattered on his face yet he seemed to be glowing at the same time, like he had never felt so alive and it made you want to giggle.

He sniffled, looking up at you with an impish grin, the taste of you lingering in his mouth and staining his nose. His hands fondly massaged your shaking thighs, noting your wrecked appearance and tired eyes, your sweaty skin flushed and warm.

He couldn’t help it as he glanced down at the mess he made, your slippery wet folds and the large patch of wetness staining his sheets.

“Mrs. Wayne, pardon my brashness of course,” He said almost sarcastically, breathless and rugged, an amused smile quirked on his lips as he leaned forward and embraced your hand with his, “but you taste utterly divine.”

⋆˚࿔ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @little-miss-chaoss — I hope it’s okay I tagged you, you said you wanted to be tagged in everything 😭🙌🏻

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