#battinson!bruce wayne x reader

[bruisedboys]

how do u think battinson shows affection ?? 🤔 since he's literally a sopping wet cat of a man and not the best as socializing, one would think physical affection but is he too awkward for that even ? what do u think ??

battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

okay okay!! so I think for bruce wayne, acts of service is a big one in terms of showing affection!! mostly because he can just do them quietly, if you know what I mean? he doesn’t have to make a big show out of it, doesn’t even have to tell you he’s gonna do them. he’ll just iron your clothes for you without you having to ask, buy your favourite shampoo when he notices you’re running out, tie your shoes before you leave the house together, take your heels off for you after a date. just so many quiet, sweet acts of service that he doesn’t even really think about, he just does them because he loves you and he cares. he gets shy when you confront him about it, though. like, you’ll find he’s restocked all your skincare and hair products and you’ll hunt him down and be like, “bruce, honey, you didn’t have to,” pushing up on to your toes to kiss him. he gets all red around the ears and pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about <3

as for physical affection, I think yes he enjoys giving it and receiving it but it’s gotta be at the right time! given how protective he is, he’ll hold your hand in public or almost always have one of his big hands on your hip or the small of your back to guide you, but nothing much more than that. when you’re alone he likes it a lot more, especially if you’re the one giving it. he’s not often the one to initiate hugs or cuddles, it’s almost always you. but you don’t mind, because he never rejects you what you want. he’s a bit awkward about it, especially in the beginning, never knowing what to do with his hands (should he rub your back or stroke your hair or just keep them still??) but once he’s more used to it he’s a really good hugger. his broadness helps too <3

still, his favourite thing is when you initiate the cuddling because it makes him feel really loved and wanted! and then he’ll cuddle back. when you climb in his lap and tuck your chin over his shoulder, he’ll rub your back and you all but melt on top of him. you’ll be lying half on top of him in bed, stroking his cheek lovingly, and he’ll take your hand in his and press his mouth to your fingertips. when you’re massaging his shoulders after a long night, or pushing his hair from his forehead when it’s in his eyes, he’ll give your hip a squeeze as a thank you. it’s almost like, your affection makes him brave enough to reciprocate it. and it honestly means a lot, coming from him. your awkward grumpy touch-starved boy <3

[thewritermj]

cameras flashes, that's how we crashed

battinson!bruce wayne X reader

part 1

summary: on a press conference, bruce finds a journalist who's up to his standards

warnings: usual gotham violence, quick discrimination of a serial killer, not actually smut in this, but in the future so NSFW MDNI

a/n: forgive any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language!!! Bruce lives in the manor instead of the Wayne Towers cuz I like the manor vibe more, also I kinda picture Jim Gordon from the Gotham Tv show, cuz I love that version but it doesn't really matters lol. (nothing said above is useful for this reading but I just thought you should know) also, this takes place one year after the movie

Bruce sat quietly on the car, the ride was awfully short. He wished he had more time to mentally prepare to his first press conference. He was a recluse for most part of his life, but after the scandal about The Gotham Renewal Program, people deserved to know the truth. And the idea of continuing his family legacy of charity and philanthropy wasn’t all bad and kept Alfred out of his nerves for a while.

And even tough Bruce Wayne could crack a fake smile to the cameras, throw charity galas and events, the true help came at night. The only possible salivation Gotham could have, the real way he could help the city was as Vengeance. The Batman. He didn’t think of himself as a hero, or a vigilante, more of a necessary evil; all the violence and anger, the rage and the darkness of his work, his project; people would be outraged if they found out they were the same man.

“We’re here, Mr. Wayne” The driver announced.

Alfred, who as sitting across from Bruce on the limo closed the papers he was reading and smiles softly.

“Ready, master Bruce?”

Bruce sighs.

“Not really”

The car parked inside the underground garage of the Wayne Enterprises, Bruce and Alfred made their way to the elevator, not a word was said.

Bruce stole a glance at his reflection on the mirror. A black suit Alfred picked for him, a W embroidery on its lapel, his hair was short now, shorter than he liked, all slicked back by hair gel, but nothing could hide the dark circles under his eyes or the lack of sun colour on his skin. Sometimes, just sometimes, Bruce wishes he didn’t have to wear normal clothes, to comb his hair, ties his bottoms; he wishes he could live inside the Batsuit. He felt like the suit was his own skin, her armour, him and Batman were on, there was no Bruce Wayne without Vengeance, they were bonded forever and could never be separated from each other. He wish they could, he wish he could be Batman alone; no press conferences, no reports, paparazzi, no “Bruce Wayne crowned prince of Gotham.”

The elevator stops and the door open. Alfred goes our first and greet some people outside, telling them where to go.

“You have 10 minutes, Bruce.” He warns, “I’ll get them stared and you wait here till I call you”

Bruce nods.

He sits down on a leather couch and waits, starring at the glass doors. All the reports and journalists waiting for him, men and women, from Gotham and other places of the world.

He’s nervous. Not nervous like he is before a fight, nervous he will be put on a corner, that he’ll be catch on a lie, nervous someone knows. It’s like someone in the next room it’s just waiting for him to appears, to stand up from their chair and ask ‘Are you the Batman?’

“Ladies and gentleman, Bruce Wayne” Alfred announces from the stage and glances at him.

Bruce works on his better smile he can put on and enters the stage; he’s received with thunderous applauses and blinding cameras flashes. He waves and sit on a chair, in a wooden desk in front of him is a glass of water and a microphone.

“Let’s get, started then” Alfred said, pointing to a woman in a grey dress standing with a microphone in her hand.

“Mr. Wayne, why did you decided to throw a press conference after years of reclusiveness?”

Bruce leans into her direction a bit.

“Well, I think all the events of the past year made me realize how much the Wayne Foundation means to Gotham and I’ve been a little reckless with that matter”

It was a good answer, he thought.

The following questions were easy too, “Mr. Wayne, how do you plan on taking care of the raised money? To prevent anything to happen again”, “What’s the difference between the Wayne Foundation and the Gotham Renewal Program?”, “What projects do you have in mind?”, and of course, some shallow questions, “What brand is your suit?”, “What car do you drive?”, question he almost laughed at. Did people actually wanted to know that?

Bruce was thinking how the conference was going well, easy, almost, not as he had pictured it before. Until…

“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”

He flinched for half a second, he opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Another woman asked something he didn’t quite hear with all that was going on inside his head, but the word Batman was also there. And then another, and another…

“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”

The room turned into a complete circus. Grown adults talking over each other, fighting for a turn on the microphone.

You rolled your eyes. This happens every time, someone thinks about the name Batman and suddenly everyone has something to say. What does it matter Bruce Wayne’s thought of the Batman? There were so much important questions to be asked, so much more to discover about that man’s life and projects than a simple opinion.

You were begging to regret the moment you accepted the offer to come to this conference. You weren’t a regular journalist, you didn’t know how to write an article about the weather, fashion trends, social events, you wrote about thing most journalist didn’t want to, thing that most people were scare to read. People scared of the truth. You weren’t. You would dig and dig until the raw verity came to surface, it didn’t matter where or who you had to dig.

The man who had introduced Mr. Wayne appeared again and announced the press conference. No fucking way, no without the answers you wanted, you didn’t take this job to watch other people ruin it.

Slowly, you got up from your sit and walked towards the person who as holding the microphone and gently pull it away from his hands.

“Mr. Wayne…” but the voices around you were too loud.

You gave the head of the mic a flick, the loud keen sound made the room come silent.

“Sorry.” You apologized. “Mr. Wayne, why did you felt the urge to re-open the school project at the marginalized neighbourhoods of Gotham after your father failed attempted?”   

The men was halfway leaving, but he turned around reluctant, staring right at you. Those piercing blue eyes roaming your face.

“Well, I believe the project needs a second chance. Children and teenagers should be given a chance to have a good education, it helps getting them out of the streets.” He answered, without the microphone his voice was low, but the silence of the room let you hear him loud and clear. “Who do you write for?”

“The Gotham Gazette” You answered proudly.

Mr. Wayne whispered something to the other man and sat back at the chair.

“Do you have any more questions, Miss…?”

You smile politely and told him your name.

“Would you say that the Wayne Foundation has an impact outside of Gotham?”

A ghost of a smile appeared on the man’s lips. You shook the urge to smile back at him.

You could tell he was a bit nervous, but he had answered the questions with manners and the right words, maybe he didn’t notice, but he’s quite good at it.

“Yes. I think the work we do on the Foundation inspires people to do the same. If it works out, we can show the world that if there was hope for Gotham there’s hope for them too”

“Do you think there’s hope for Gotham?” You asked, out of spite, because you didn’t write it down before the press.

His lips contracted to a thin line and he thought of it for a few seconds before answering:

“Yes. As long as people like me and you care about what happens here, there’s still hope for the city”

You smiles.

“People like me?”

“You seem to know a lot about the charity work, and you care enough to show it to the world”

Your smile grew bigger and you felt a hint of warm rushing through your cheeks.

Mr. Wayne answered a few more of your questions before the press conference was over.

You were, oh, so proud of yourself. The information you gathered was perfect for what you had in mind and for sure, you could make it a good article. An admiring of the Wayne legacy, that’s what you called yourself. It has always called out to you what that wealth family did; they had no obligation to do it, to donate not just money, but time and resources to help those who couldn’t have what they did, to make Gotham something to be proud of. It’s a shame they never lived long enough to cure it, to heal it. However, you hoped that, maybe, Bruce did. At least he sound determined to.  

You gathered your things and your purse, but as you made your way to the elevator, a woman dresses on formal clothes approached you with a clean, sharp smile that made her look like a dental paste commercial.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind, following me?”

You frowned.

“Ahn…What for?”

“Mr. Wayne wishes to speak to you” She explained and her smile somehow grew wider.

Standing there for a few seconds, all you could do was nod as you followed her through a long corridor. What was happening right now? He wants to speak to you? Bruce Wayne wishes to speak to a journalist in private? And more important, to you.

She opened a door to a breath-taking office.

Right in front of you was a full wall window, a panoramic view of Gotham in all its “glory”, skyscrapers, apartment buildings, the clock tower, the bridge of the river, the field behind the road, you could see everything from up there. There was a wooden desk in front of the window, quite empty, and a chair that looked more comforting than any other you had ever sat.

When the woman closed the door behind you, your attention changed to the man standing on your left. Bruce Wayne was staring at you dead in the eyes with a facial expression of someone who just saw a ghost.

This guy seriously need some sunbathing. You shook that thought out of your head.

“Mr. Wayne. You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes” His raspy voice responded. “Sit, please”

You took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the chair and he sat opposite of you, behind the desk, diving completely into the velvet chair. He crosses his fingers and stares at you again. It made you a little uncomfortable, he did that a lot, like a hunter watching its prey.

“So…”

“I’ve searched your work. You’re really good.”

“Thank you, sir”

“You won a Pulitzer, am I right?”

“Yes, a few years ago”

When did he get the time to read all this information? It’s not like you’re super famous, even the Pulitzer wasn’t a very known prize if you didn’t know the industry.

“For a book about a serial killer in Detroit” He said, a voice that verged into an interrogation tone. “The Divine Move?”

You blinked a few times.

“I…Yes. Nathan Walters.”

He lifted his eyebrows just an inch, telling you to continue the story.

You cleared your throat.

“He uh, he used to be the altar boy of the neighbourhood church and he chose his victims based on the sins he supposed they’ve committed.” You’ve shorten it, you couldn’t understand why a billionaire was asking you about the modus operandi of a criminal who was thousands of miles away.  “Why are you asking me this, if I may ask, Mr. Wayne?”

“You’re an investigative journalist. Why are you attending press conferences of a random billionaire?”

You supressed a laugh. Random.

“I grew up here, sir. I’ve always admired your family work, I took the opportunity when it was offered to me.”

“You seem to know a lot about my family history.”

“Like I said, I’m just an admiring. Although, I once thought of writing a book about the Wayne Legacy. Your legacy, sir.”

“Your legacy, sir”.

Bruce looked down at his cufflinks, the W prominent on a silvery material.

His legacy.

He once thought the Wayne Foundation was his legacy. But now he knew, his true legacy came in a bat shaped suit and sleepless nights; it came on purple coloured bruises and blood stained clothes.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well…it’s very hard to write about something when you only get superficial information.”

You were nervous, he could tell. You kept staring at the view behind him, or at your shoes, tanking a little too long to answer his questions. He wondered how could a journalist gets nervous, almost shy.

He gave you a puzzled look, not using any words to express his question. But you understood it.

“Using material that was wrote by someone else. All the records and stories about your parents have already been wrote by someone else before me, so I couldn’t say it was my work, could I?”

He hummed.

Bruce took a sigh. Maybe. Maybe this was a good idea, it could keep him in a good status with the press, plus, he’d be able to hide even further down his secret identity, having a journalist with him every day? No one would suspect his the Batman.

“There are stories and details that haven’t been told.”

You bit your lower lip.

He stared at you.

“What are you implying, sir?”

“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”

“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”

You almost passed out.

Would you?

Who could say they had a proposal like that? Dig into the secrets of the Wayne family?

“Yes”.

___________________

a/n2: aaaah this is actually so boring I'm so sorry, also I think I made bruce a little more talkative than I would've but anyways I may change it yet.

a special thank you to @preciouslandmermaid for inspiring me to finally write this!! <3

[streetlamp-amber]

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

[fear-is-truth]

THE GREEN EYED MONSTER — bruce wayne

MDNI ┆warnings: smut. jealous bruce

BRUCE WAYNE didn’t think of himself as a jealous man. jealousy was irrational, unproductive—a crack in control, and control was the very foundation of who he was.

“h-aah—bruce,” you arched beneath him, hands scrambled for purchase, one curling into the damp hair at the nape of his neck while the other clutched at his shoulder. his thoughts churned even as his body stayed attuned to yours. “bruce,” you whimpered again, half a plea, half surrender.

bruce’s mind stuttered, unbidden thoughts clawing their way back. that investor at the gala—what was his last name? langley? no, it was something else. didn’t matter. bruce could recall the man’s face with infuriating clarity.

but what burned brightest was the handshake: his hand lingering in yours just a beat too long, bordering on intimate. the subtle breach of etiquette set bruce on edge. then the man leaned in, voice dipping low as he murmured something meant only for you, the words drowned out by the clinking of champagne glasses and soft murmur of the crowd. your laugh had followed—light, polite, the same one you’d offered to so many others that evening. you’d likely forgotten the exchange entirely. just you being you—sweet, approachable. but the rasp of the man’s smoker’s laugh lingered in bruce’s memory, coarse and unwelcome, grating against his nerves like sandpaper.

muscles drawn taut, his hips moved on their own accord, driven by a dangerous mélange of frustration and lust. the next thrust was rougher than intended, forceful in a way that bordered on needy, and it stole a sharp gasp from your lips. you arched against him, body yielding with desperate eagerness that sent a shiver of triumph through him.

“nnngh–hah-”

could he make you sound like this? bruce wondered, his jaw tightening as his mind darkened. could he make you dig your nails into his back like this, leave those fleeting little crescent-shaped reminders?

his pace slowed, the haze of primal lust lifting as rationality began to reclaim its hold. his forehead pressed against yours, eyes shutting briefly before reopening. bruce tilted his head slightly, seeking your gaze. your pupils were blown wide, kiss-bitten lips swollen and parted, breasts heaving with every laboured breath. you didn’t seem to mind the newfound edge in him; if anything, it appeared that you enjoyed it.

could he make you shiver like this? could he have you matching his every thrust, cumming so many times but still craving more, your body pliant yet demanding?

“f-fuck,” he ground out, his sweat-damp forehead falling against your shoulder as he drove himself closer, deeper. until bursts of white danced at the edges of your vision, every nerve-end alight.

could he-

drunkenly, you reached for him, fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging just enough to coax a guttural groan from his throat. that simple action unraveled his jealousy, scattering it like ash on the wind. his mind snapped the answer into place with startling finality.

no, bruce decided. he couldn’t.

your head tilted back to fall on the pillow as he dipped his head, warm lips found the edge of your jaw, trailing up as he sought the delicate curve of your ear. you felt his teeth grazed your earlobe—a soft, teasing nibble. a sound escaped you, high and needy, and it must’ve sparked something in bruce because another thrust that made your toes curl in welcome to the glorious stretch of his cock.

eyelids fluttering open, you glanced up at bruce, the faint glow of the room casting shadows across the sharp angles of his face. his brows furrowed in concentration, hair curling damply against his temple, and above you, he looked godly—untouchable, yet entirely yours. you barely had time to drink in the sight of your lover before he tilted your chin toward him, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that stole your breath and any lingering coherent thought. there was a brief clash of teeth before it softened into the warm yet insistent press of his lips, the demanding slide of his tongue as though he had something to prove—not to you, but to himself.

he reared back before snapping his hips forward again, earning another stretched moan from your lips as you felt him nudge against your cervix. once more, his name slipped from your mouth in the form of a broken whine when he broke the kiss, dark gaze smouldering as he studied your face—drinking in every detail like a man starved, and the corner of his mouth twitched with a satisfied smirk.

you clenched around him, felt that pulsating warmth through the thin veil of slick and sweat. it wouldn’t take long for you to fall apart once again, not with the multiple orgasms he had bestowed upon you earlier and the frantic pace he was moving now. bruce drove into you one last time with a strained grunt, sheathing himself to the hilt.

you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment your climax began or where his met yours—all you knew was the overwhelming surge that overtook you both, cresting like a tidal wave. your vision blurred, edges dissolving into brilliant white, and a broken cry slipped from your lips as your body trembled uncontrollably. your fingers clenched, digging into his shoulders, while your muscles turned molten, leaving you boneless and weightless, as if you were melting into him. the low, guttural sound he let out against your neck sent another shiver through you, tethering you to the shared euphoria that left nothing untouched.

the vice-like grip on your hips slackened, and you could feel his cock continuing to twitch and spasm as he thrust lazily inside you, grinding his cum as deep as it could go.

he should’ve felt satisfied, but instead, there was something else—a knot still twisting low in his chest. his jealousy had burned out, but in its place was something else, that made his heart ache.

“did i hurt you?”

“no. you were…” you paused, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his forearm. “perfect.”

a faint exhale left him, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. bruce pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than he usually did.

could anyone else make you look like that?

he didn’t have to ask himself. he already knew the answer.

[percabething]

when the fic has an aesthetically pleasing layout but the writing is… questionable

[meiluu]

Bats

Here's some thoughts about Bruce Wayne, my husband btw

cw: Major fluff

Just imagine being the wife of Bruce Wayne. Not the playboy, or the billionaire, not the philanthropist, but Bruce Wayne. A man who had to grow up at the young age of eight, and later on becoming a young man who spent his time traveling the world. Learning all he could, fighting, languages, anything. A man who sacrifices everything for the ones he loves, hoping that he can protect them from the world that seems hellbent on taking away all the people he holds dear.

Bruce is a man of few words, but each word that leaves those beautiful lips of his has a purpose. Those quiet moments when its just the two of you, cuddled in one of the plush couches in the Wayne manor library. The moonlight flittering in from the tall windows, the crackling of the lit fireplace is the only other noise that accompanies your whispered words of love. Wrapped in his protective embrace, a body that spends nearly every night defending and protecting the innocents of Gotham is here hugging you and gently massaging your back.

You bring a level of solace that Bruce didn't think he would ever have. Given how he accepted the fact that being Batman meant that he could never really have that. Then you came in. It wasn't some massive firework show or falling from the sky. You just... walked in like you were meant to be here all along. The patience, understanding and unwavering love you showed him time and time again had Bruce wondering where you had been all this time. You were so...You.

Bruce is the husband and lover who lets you kiss his countless amount of scars that litter his body that has been sculpted to fight and endure anything that comes its way. A body that held strength in every fiber of muscle and yet he turns to putty within your loving hands. Mind, body and soul, wholly yours.

Bruce had no idea of what he was missing when you weren't in his life and now that he has you, there is nothing on this planet or universe that would ever take you from him.

Bruce is someone who will die for You, and any one of the people he loves.

[bia-wayne-west]

Milk with cookies and bedtime stories [Batmom x Damian Wayne]

Synopsis: It was just a few months ago that Damian was included in the Wayne family. He still didn’t like you, but you tried so hard to make him appreciate you. During a patrol, Damian got hurt and after Alfred took care of the little boy’s wounds, you surprised him with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

Characters: Damian Wayne and Reader [YOU]

A/N: I wrote this quickly. Hope you like. In this imagine, Batmom has been married to Bruce since he adopted Dick.

I want to apologize if there are any writing errors. I'm a Brazilian girl and I don't speak fluent English, so I may make some writing mistakes. Feel free to correct me.

I hope you read, like and feel how cute Damian is.

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

You were sitting on the kitchen stool, reading a fashion magazine while you waited for your husband to return from patrol.

Bruce forbade you to stay in the Batcave, as he was afraid that someone would break in and find you, alone and unprotected.

As soon as you felt the ground shake, it meant that the Batcave had opened and that Batman had arrived with his Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing.

You ran to the clock that gave access to the secret entrance to Batcave. The elevator quickly took you to where your children and husband were.

“Hey, my love. You got back before 5am!” You said, running up to Bruce Wayne. He still wore black clothes and was without a mask. Your husband didn’t respond. He was serious and had a worried expression on his face.

“A man dropped Damian from a three-story building .” Bruce said looking at the boy who was sitting next to Alfred.

You finally noticed Damian, whose face was bruised and his leg was bandaged. You walked over to the boy and knelt in front of him.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I fell on top of a car and didn’t break any bones.”

“Damian, darling, are you hurt?” You asked, looking into Bruce’s son’s green eyes.

You smiled, in a motherly way. Damian didn’t consider you a mother, unlike the other three boys who called you ‘mother’ and ‘mommy’ all the time. Your husband’s son only considered you as a stepmother, but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him as if he were your son.

“I’m going to run you a hot bubble bath. After Alfred takes care of you, I think you’ll want to relax in the warm water.”

“Thank you, Y/N, but I’m not your baby.” He said rolling his eyes and turning his face to look at Alfred.

“Damian!” Bruce warned his son. But you smiled at your husband, showing that everything was okay. You left the Batcave, heading back to the mansion to prepare Dami’s bath.

(…)

Damian was already in his room. You were heading to the boy's room, with a tray in your hand.

The clock said 2:32 am, but you were sure the boy hadn't slept yet. The Waynes used to sleep only when the sun came up.

Yout left hand knocked lightly on the wooden door with the boy's initials engraved on it. Ypur ears picked up a “you can come in”, authorizing you to enter Damian’s room.

“I came to see if you were okay, Dami.” You said, entering and closing the door behind your body. Your arms came off the tray on the bed, seeing that the boy was sitting on the mattress. “I brought milk and cookies, this will definitely make you feel better.”

“Why do you do these things, Y/N?” He asked, with a questioning look.

“I didn't understand. Don't you like what I do for you?”

“At first I thought you had a plan to win me over and then you would hate me for being Bruce's biological son.” He said, seeing you take a cookie and offer it to him.

“I would never do that. I love you, Dami, even if you don't like me. These things I do for you are normal motherly actions.”

“My mother didn’t do any of that. She only got cookies when she did something good.” He said, his eyes shining like he was going to cry.

“Oh baby. I know you don't consider me your mother and I don't want to force you into anything, but I want you to know that these things I do are because I love you.” You explained, smiling widely at him and drinking some milk. “Do you know what my mother did for me when I was hurt?”

“No.” He said, while devouring several cookies. “She also gave you cookies and milk?”

“Yes, and she also told me a bedtime story.” You argued, running your hand through the boy's hair. “I'll tell you a story.”

“I’m not four years old, Y/N” He murmured.

“Damian, you’re not old enough to hear a good story before bed.”

“OK. Just don't tell stories about princesses or ponies.”

“Clear. I'm going to tell the story of a boy called Dami. He was so brave and beautiful, he was a strong and fearless boy.” His lips formed a smile as he said the words. Damian's eyes were bright and sweet. “One day, he went to the forest to play with the birds and found a portal to a magical world.”

“Like Narnia?: He asked, completely interested in your story.

“Yes, but without the closet. The magical portal led to a kingdom full of witches, fairies, vampires and any magical creature you can imagine.”

“Even elves?” He questioned you again. Now Damian was lying in bed and you covered him with the blanket.

“Of course, elves can't be missed.” You said. Your heart filled with love and you almost cried when you saw the image of the boy who hated you six months ago totally interested in a bedtime story. “In that kingdom there was a crystal that served as oxygen for all beings there, but a terrible villain broke this crystal and stole its essence, leaving the world without magic.” Damian still had complete fun with your narration. “Then, the queen called Martha went and asked the brave Dami to hunt down the villain and recover the essence of the crystal.”

“And he did this?”

“Yes! Dami took a sword and shield and went out to the magical kingdom in search of the villain. He went to an ancient village in the kingdom called Gothym and met three knights named Grayson, Todd and Drake. They sent Dami to the mountains where he would find the villain.”

“And he found it?”

“He found it, but it was difficult. The villain was hiding in a ruined castle north of Gothym. Dami fought bravely with the villain and defeated him. Dami recovered the essentials of the crystal and in exchange, Queen Martha gave him a personal portal to return to the kingdom as often as he wanted. Dami was a brave hero and defeated the evil villain.” You told the story while running your hand affectionately through the boy's hair. “Did you like the story?”

“Yes, it was the best story anyone told me.”

“I'm glad you liked it, my love. If you want, I can tell you a story every night.”

“Todd would make fun of me if he knew.” He said, looking at you so intently that you knew he was embarrassed for having liked the story.

“I'm gonna tell you a secret. I told Dick, Jason and Tim stories for three years, but they didn't want to.”

“Did you tell Todd bedtime stories?” He asked loudly, as if it were some blasphemy.

“Of course, and he loved them all.”

“So I want to hear stories before bed.”

“I'll love telling you, along with a glass of milk and cookies. Good evening, Dami.” You said getting up from the bed. Your lips found the boy's forehead.

“Good night, mom.” He said, making you look surprised at him. “I can call you mom? Since Dick, Jason, and Tim call you Mom, I thought you might as well.”

“Of course, my dear. You can call me mother and I will call you my son.” Your arms wrapped around the body of the boy, your son. Love seemed to explode in your heart. “Good evening, my dear son.”

“Good nigh, mom.”

You gave Damian one last kiss on his forehead, before picking up the tray and taking it to the kitchen. After washing the dishes, you went to the master suite, the room shared between you and Bruce.

Your husband was lying on the king size bed, waiting for you. After showering and putting on your pajama, you laid down on the bed.

“Damian called me mom.” You said to Bruce, earning a smile from him.

“With bedtime stories, milk and cookies.”

“How did this happen?” He asked, setting aside the iPad he was using to hug you.

[devilfic]

you know what. I think battinson is such an enthusiastic kisser

both his kisses with selina were kind of this dreamy, almost out-of-body experience where selina had him under her spell and he was just sort of helplessly in love with her so he could do naught but follow her lead,,, but I like imagining what it'd be like if HE initiated kissing his partner

like there's the more confident bruce, a few more years into being batman bruce, where he leans in during a lull of good conversation and he's smiling and suave and controlled but like. bruce in year 2? bruce fresh off selina and realizing he could maybe make time for a relationship? realizing how much he missed being touched? somebody call animal control cause this bat is in heat

before he leans in, he watches you like you'll disappear. his eyes are wide open!! he doesn't want to miss a thing!!! I think he's more likely to grab for your waist instead of going for your face or something.... I think he bubbles with the desire to touch you so bad and he just wants to feel you against all of him, and I think he can't help being a manhandler,,, he needs to move you just so because like he cannot let you slip from his fingers when he's aching to kiss you so bad

he doesn't make a lot of noise when he kisses but he breathes Heavy. I think once he's kind of really winded that's when he starts whimpering really low in his throat... nothing too crazy... little grunts and whines but they're so quiet. if he's kissing you and gets disturbed tho I do think he will full on groan and groan LOUD and it's both funny and super attractive because his face screws up in this petulant little scowl like. can't you see he's busy

he 100% leans fully into it which is a lot because he's a BIG man. he's going to have to push you up against something every single time because he is chasing you every time you part for air, almost mindless and eyes half-lidded as he mouths at you. he's so into it that I can guarantee it's gotten you two kicked out of a gala or two when people inevitably find him devouring you in a dark corner or a hallway you both assumed to be empty

if you wear lipstick/gloss he is not wiping that shit off either oh my goooood. don't let me think about you leaving marks all over his face and him proudly walking out into a swarm of paparazzi just. cheeky

it's really hard to just give this man a quick, chaste kiss. everything has to last at least a minute with him. it's why he literally cannot kiss you when he's busy because it'll be a minute and then five and then he's behind on work (oh no..... so sad.... anyway) because he's got you laid on the nearest surface sucking bruises into your neck

bruce will kiss any part of you but I think he's just so obsessed with your lips that it's where he inevitably fixates each time. it is so so hard to kiss him anywhere else because he will be like wow nice. kiss from my lovely partner. not on my lips tho.... and when he turns around for a kiss on the lips you can't just refuse! he's got such kissable lips and oh this is a time loop that never ends isn't it

[manicpixievixen]

Having thoughts of girly/hyperfem/ or just in general bubbly personality reader with these super masculine guys

Like this is so logan (also battinson, Dean winchester, etc)

[scarlet2007]

⊹ ₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ Late night talks ₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Batman x reader / Bruce Wayne x reader.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Summary: After accidentally mistaking Batman as a criminal and spraying him with pepper spray, you both have seemed to form a friendship.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Warnings: Pepper spray, mention of Gotham being dangerous.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 1.5k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

[ Masterlist ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Bruce has no idea how he got himself into this situation. Or rather... This habit.

It all started on that faithful night.

Walking alone at night in Gotham was like an one way ticket to heaven. A death wish, as some may say.

You sighed, looking around anxiously as you tried to walk as fast as you could. Every flicker of the night light, every random sound was making you jump in terror. You were half convinced that this was going to be your last day on earth.

You were just about to walk past an alley when you saw a shadowy figure stand menacingly at the entrance. The lights were flickering as the lamp above seemed to be surviving off of the happiness of the citizens of Gotham. Obviously, there wasn't much life left in it.

Red alarms started to go off in your head as the figure slowly started to move towards you. The heavy sound of its boot hitting the ground, the sound of your quickened heartbeat, the sound of the pained hissed that left the shadowy figure- Wait... Pained hiss?

It was only then you realised that you had sprayed the shadowy figure, Batman, with the pepper spray you were clutching while walking.

You gasped, staring at Batman in shock. He was hissing at the sudden attack, one of his eye half opened as he stared directly at you.

'I am so dead.'

Your eyes were wide before you shakingly reached into your purse, pulling out a small water bottle as you handed it to him, "I am so sorry! I thought you were some... Some criminal! Oh my- Splash this in your eyes! I am so sorry!" Half of the words sounded like nonsense due to how fast you were speaking.

He reluctaningly grabbed the water, splashing some water into his eyes as the affect of the spray started to subdue.

For a minute or two, nobody said anything as you both just stared at each other.

"What are you doing outside at this hour?"

"I am so sorry!"

Both of you decided to speak at the same time, which made none of you understand what the other person said.

"Come again?"

"I didn't hear-"

And it happened again.

"Speak."

"I am sorry-"

And again.

Finally, Batman seemed to have enough of it as he just stared at you broodingly, making you shut your mouth from fear.

"Why are you out at such an hour?"

You paused at his question, looking at him sheepishly, "Uh... Nightshift..."

Your answer made him raise an eyebrow which you didn't see because of his mask, "You shouldn't walk alone in the streets of Gotham with only a pepper spray as a weapon."

You nodded, looking at the ground as you suddenly felt like a child getting scolded by your parent.

Batman sighed as he stared at your figure, he can't just let you walk around at such an hour. Especially when it looked like you had the survival skills of a limbless cockroach.

"I will walk you home. Lead the way."

And that's how everything started.

"You haven't been paying attention to what I have been yapping about, have you?" You deadpanned, staring at him as he spaced out.

This made Batman blink, coming out of his chain of thoughts as he stared at the bowl of cereal you passed to him.

"Eat."

He blinked again, glancing at you in slight confusion before he started to eat.

He doesn't remember how this became a... Thing. It started out as occasionally walking you home from your nightshifts, then it shifted to him being injured after a rather brutal fight with a criminal near your apartment complex which made you usher him to your house for some patching up and now it has become a habit of Batman to swing by your window every once in a while, whenever he knew you would be awake or knew you had a day off.

You have come out of your shell fully, and now he knows you as the sassy and playful girl he once saved instead of the scared and timided girl.

"Eat up! You look like you have been starving since the dark ages, Mr. Dark knight." He let out an amused grunt at your words, rolling his eyes as he ate the cereal.

It was a comical scene, having him sit in your kitchen in his Batsuit while you lectured him about his poor eating habits in your pastel night gown.

You were an amusing person, a dramatic display of playfulness and sarcasm was always expected from you. Batman has seemed to grow fond of you and your shared time spent together over the past few months as he found himself looking forward to these meet-ups.

He has heard it all, from how much you dislike your job to how much you loved visiting animal sanctuaries to how you once crashed your friend's bicycle into different objects all under 15 minutes.

All these little stories would make him smile slightly while he worked in his Batcave. Alfred has heard all about you as well, the butler seemed to have grown fond of you as well despite never meeting you.

He glanced at you, watching you move around the kitchen as you washed the dishes. A thought passed through his mind.

He could help you.

Imagining him, Batman, helping you wash the dishes in his Batsuit. That would certainly be something you would die laughing at.

He shook his head slightly at the thought, focusing on eating the cereal you had given him.

"So, when are you going to leave your shitty job?" That made you look at him, slightly taken aback by his sudden question.

"Oh... Um... When I find a job that pays the same or more...?"

There it was again. The same answer you always give him. At first, he used to get irritated by your answer but now he understands your point. He knows the financial struggle you have gone through as a child, which has made you very anxious about having no job. All his attempts to help you fell on deaf ears as you firmly stated that you do not want money from your struggling vigilante friend.

He still has no idea why you think he is a struggling vigilante.

Does he look broke to you?

He sighed, glancing at the clock as he saw what time it was. The sun was about to rise.

"Do you have a day-off tomorrow or another night shift?"

You looked up from the dishes, glancing at him, "I have a day-off."

He nodded, walking up the sink to wash his bowl as you stepped aside to make space for him.

This is starting to feel oddly domestic.

"You should head to bed then." This earned a giggle from you as you looked at him with an amused expression.

"Aww, are you worried about my health?" You cooed jokingly as you leaned against the counter.

"You work at odd hours. From 8 pm till 3:45 am, it has to be one of the most ridiculous work hours I have ever heard of." He mumbled, scrubbing the bowl as he pretended to be annoyed at your playful behaviour.

You hummed, nodding your head in agreement before a small yawn escaped you, making Batman give you a 'I told you so' look behind his mask.

"See? You should head to bed." He grumbled, drying the bowl before putting it in its place.

"Alright, alright, I'll head to bed. Just make sure that whenever you leave, you close the window." He nodded as he watched you walked towards your bedroom, stretching as you glanced back at him.

He still has no idea how this has become something so normal to both of you that you just let him stay in your house while you sleep and he knows exactly where the bowl goes in the cupboard.

Bruce sighed as he flipped through the documents and files of the new Wayne enterprise project, his eyes narrowed as the sunlight from outside was starting to bother him. He could almost feel a headache coming in.

It has been weeks since he last saw you, he has been busy with his duties as a vigilante and the owner of the Wayne enterprise to the point he could barely find the time to visit you. Thankfully, you have left your old job for good so he knows that you are at least not walking around the dangerous streets of Gotham at night.

But he still can't help but feel worried about your financial state, to the point that he has voiced it out to Alfred a few times.

He sighed again, glancing at the door as he heard a knock.

"Come in!"

His eyes widened as he stared as you walked in, his new secretary.

Suddenly, everything makes sense. Alfred suddenly pestering him to appoint a new secretary, Alfred going out of his way to personal find him a new secretary. Everything is starting to make sense.

'That cunning old man...'

[moonwqves]

⋮ 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡, 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧

───〃★ bruce wayne (batman) x reader.

★ — SUMMARY | shower sex after a night on patrol. ★ — WORD COUNT | 1.2k ★ — WARNINGS | fem!reader ; pwp ; unprotected sex ; mentions of blood/injuries

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI.

most nights when bruce gets back to the manor, you’re still asleep. in the early hours of the morning, just before the sky begins to lighten, he doesn’t expect you to still be awake as he sheds all his gear and trudges his way upstairs.

but some nights you wait up for him, occupying yourself with a book or a new tv series as you sit curled up in your chair in the dark.

he assumes you’re still in bed sleeping soundly and he heads quietly into the bathroom to start cleaning himself up, not noticing that you’re silently watching. he’s known for being stealthy, but tonight you’re the one who’s slipping into the shadows.

his clothes hit the floor piece by piece as he turns the water on and strips bare, the steam from the shower quickly filling the room with heat and fogging up the mirror.

the hot water stings the bloody cuts on his knuckles, and he hisses as he runs his hands beneath the shower stream, watching the blood wash down the drain. they’re just minor scrapes and it’s nothing he isn’t used to by now, but it’s always a chore to take care of himself at the end of the night.

you open the bathroom door just a crack and peek your head inside to call his name, and instantly his head whips around at the noise. droplets of water collect in his eyelashes as he stares at you, his piercing gaze locked with yours as tears of black eyeliner roll down his cheeks, the warm water melting away his dark exterior. he's tired, he's aching and bruised from this routine of difficult nights, but everything disappears the second he sees you.

you pause as he wipes his hand across his eyes, smearing the fading makeup even further before he jerks his head to beckon you to join him, and you quickly start to undress. your clothes slip off, collecting in a pile on the floor next to his as you slide back the glass door and step inside.

your heart races as his eyes silently roam over your figure, streams of water trickling down his toned chest, and you can’t help but study him in return. you reach out to trace your fingers over the old scars that litter his skin, and you note the fresh scratches and cuts he’s earned himself while out in the city tonight.

you start to pull away to grab the soap, but his hand wraps around your wrist and you freeze, looking up at him. you can see the flash of lust in his eyes as he grips you tightly, pulling you closer until you’re standing flush against his body, and the proximity sends a shiver of desire down your spine.

he leans forward to capture your lips, his deep voice groaning out your name as his arms sliding down to sit firmly around your waist. you melt into him, automatically moaning into the kiss, and he greedily swallows your noises until it feels like he’s going to suck the breath right out of your lungs.

he kisses you harder, one hand falling to your hip while the other reaches up to cup your jaw and guide your mouth further into him, his tongue prodding between your lips in a way that makes you feel warm from the inside out.

his hand on your hip travels lower to grope your ass, and he squeezes a little harder when you let out a gasp against his lips, relishing in the responses he’s drawing from you. he starts to move and suddenly you feel the ice cold tile of the shower wall against your back, and you arch away from it instinctively, seeking the warmth of his body.

a large hand grips your thigh and hikes your leg up around his waist, securing your ankle behind the back of his thigh for balance. his pelvis presses between your legs, and you can already feel his cock hardening against your skin.

“bruce,” you whine as you try to rock your hips against him, desperate for the friction he provides.

he doesn’t reply but he lets out a soft noise under his breath, somewhere between a hum and a growl, and he attaches his lips to your neck just below your ear.

he pushes himself into you and you gasp, your heat enveloping his length as you cling to him. your legs tremble as he begins to thrust slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck even tighter. you can feel his biceps flexing around you as he holds you against the wall, supporting nearly all of your weight as he starts to build up his pace. drops of water trickle down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, but it’s hard to tell if it’s from the shower or if it’s sweat.

even after a night of patrol and the physical toll it takes on him, bruce’s stamina far outweighs yours. it only takes minutes before he has you whimpering and clenching around him, struggling to keep up with his relentless pace.

he pulls back to adjust his hips, giving him a better angle to drive his cock into you so that his tip kisses your spot with each stroke. he can tell you’re about to cum when he feels you starting to pull away from him, all the tension in your body building up like a dam about to break as your back arches and you squirm in his grasp.

with one more pointed thrust you come undone, a constant stream of whines pouring from your lips like the shower water pouring down his back. he doesn’t let up until your body goes limp in his arms, fucking you through your orgasm while you can barely keep yourself standing up straight.

suddenly he swoops in and presses his lips to your mouth once again, his perfect pace slipping and becoming more and more erratic, and you know he’s close behind. with your leg behind him you pull him closer, giving him just enough extra leverage to bury himself inside you as deep as he can go before his release slams into him.

his grip on your hips is almost bruising as he keeps you held tightly against him, letting out low, deep groans as he spills into you. warmth floods your stomach and you exhale a shaky whimper as you start to come down from the dizzying effects of your high.

just before you feel your leg starting to cramp up he pulls back, slipping out of you but keeping his arms still firmly around you to keep you supported. he tilts his head down to study you, secretly preening at the fucked-out look on your face. he looks much worse off, his cuts and scrapes still forming scabs and the black makeup streaked across his cheeks, but he’s still more concerned about you than himself.

he gives you a moment to stand on your own, and he smirks when you immediately reach again for the soap and start to scrub at his body with a loofah.

he lets you pamper him for now, because he knows neither of you will be getting any sleep until dawn.

© moonwqves 2024. do not repost or translate. ── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 want to join my taglist? send an ask!

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog or let me know in a comment or an ask! feedback helps so much with motivation and gives me energy to continue writing :)

a/n: this is my first time posting outside of my main fandom, but it was a lot of fun to write && i am really excited to continue writing new things!! i hope you enjoy, please interact (reblog, comment, ask) if you liked it!

[dollfacefantasy]

i feel like (2022) batman would want you to ride his face/let him eat the coochie whenever he had free time. idk he gives likes to please vibes to me. Also luv your work!!!!!

um i love YOU for sending me this ask.

bruce is absolutely a fucking munch because 1. he's obsessed with you and 2. it allows him to communicate his love for you without having to say anything.

shocking to absolutely no one, he's not that great with words. his love for you burns so intensely in his head that any coherent thoughts of adoration get all tangled up before they can leave his lips. and while you find his quiet nature endearing, it always embarrasses him.

so instead, he's found himself developing a habit around you. whenever the two of you are alone, whether it's when he's come home from patrol or during some rare moments where you're both doing nothing, he slides down to settle between your thighs.

it doesn't matter if you're reading a book or on your phone or watching tv. none of that stops him from getting to work on you. he curls his hands around the soft flesh of your legs and nuzzles against the thin cloth of your panties.

most of the time you'll let out a little giggle, but it doesn't make him shy like it does if he's trying to talk to you. instead, it sends all his blood down to his cock. the thick length stiffens up against the mattress even though he's not concerned with getting any attention it.

he takes his time when he's down there. he's in no rush to leave his favorite place in this world. once he's got your panties out of the way, he starts small with little kitten licks and kisses to your clit. as time goes on though, he gets more into it, more dedicated. in a matter of minutes, his eyes are shut and he's moaning against your slick folds, fully making out with your pussy. he laps at it like he's never tasted anything better. he moans without shame while sucking on your bundle of nerves. he devours you like he hasn't done this four other times this week.

he doesn't stop until tears of overstimulation brim your cute little eyes. only then does he pull away and start to crawl back up to be beside you. he then cradles you to his chest and rubs your back, soothing you down from the highs of repeated release. you're all spacey and clingy, so he doesn't have to worry about conversation either.

in fact, when you're all blissed out like this, he finds it pretty easy to whisper out the words i love you.

[purehypnotic]

✮𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕✮

𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔.

𝐈𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞.

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.

"𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰?" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐤.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.

"𝐘/𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐨" 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐢𝐭.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫.

"𝐖𝐡𝐲'𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?" 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝.

"𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 ��𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

"𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡" 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬.

"𝐎𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚 "𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡", 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲.

"𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧" 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

"𝐘/𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨," 𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫. "𝐇𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮" 𝐇𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.

𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨. 𝐓𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐆𝐨��𝐡𝐚𝐦, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝.

𝐈𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐓𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭-𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐝. 𝐎𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩.

*𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓*

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨-𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥," 𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐠.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲𝐲," 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, "𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧" 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧.

*𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒑*

"𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭?" 𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧.

"𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞,

" 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐞, 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝" 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫

"𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭" 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡, 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨-𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧, 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭" 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐰𝐬" 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭. 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 "𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞" 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.

"𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬," 𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧. "𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠," 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

"𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞" 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫.

"𝐍𝐚𝐡, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟.

"𝐎𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧, 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬" 𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐩. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭-𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

"𝐎𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

"𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝" 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝.

"𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧" 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐥 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞.

"𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

"𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐦 𝐈, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫? 𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝, 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

"𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝/𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

"𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞��𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮," 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨��𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬.

"𝐎𝐤… 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭.

"𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐭, 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬" 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

"𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝, 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝. "𝐘'𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

"𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞?" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞. "𝐒𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞?" 𝐇𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐝.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚�� 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟?" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

"𝐋𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧? 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐰, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘/𝐧," 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞.

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫?

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

"𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫.

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

"𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝.

"𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮" 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞.

"𝐎𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐛 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

"𝐍𝐨, 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. "𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩, 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫, 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐥, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

𝐇𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐛 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨-𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. "𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤.

"𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭- 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨-𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐮𝐲" 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟.

"𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲" 𝐇𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐛 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

"𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭" 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. "𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐤?" 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞-𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥" 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

"𝐇𝐦𝐦, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭. "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡. "𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭" 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐥 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡.

"𝐍𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡.

"𝐘/𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭" 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭? 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. "𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬, 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐤" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫.

"𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, "𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫.

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭" 𝐇𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐧.

"𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

"𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞" 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧��𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

"𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟𝐟" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫. "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

"𝐈 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨," 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝.

"𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬" 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝.

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞.

"𝐓𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩" 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧.

"𝐂'𝐦𝐨𝐧" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦.

𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲" 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤, "𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧" 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤!

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒆🎀

[streetlamp-amber]

can we just stay in bed? (18+)

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 2.8k | divider by @cafekitsune | requests are open!

CW: smut (MDNI), p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), soft sex NOTES: i usually don’t write soft smut like this so i don’t really know if i’m 100% satisfied with this or not but i still wanted to share, let me know your thoughts :)

The joyful singing of the birds in the forest surrounding Wayne Manor could be heard from miles away as the sun was rising over the treetops, marking the beginning of a new day in Gotham. A lone ray of sunshine made its way through the gap between the two curtains hung over the window of you and Bruce's bedroom, illuminating the darkness with a soft golden glow.

Today was Saturday, meaning you didn't have work waiting for you or school to drive Dick and Jason to. The only plan on the schedule this morning was to sleep in, even for Alfred.

But your husband had other plans.

Bruce woke up on his own, his body was now used to being up early to make sure the boys had completed all of their homework before dropping them off at school. He was laying on his back with your head nestled in the crook of his neck, your hot breath fanning over his skin at a gentle rhythm while your arm and leg were hooked around him, keeping your body flushed against his. A grateful, satisfied smile formed on Bruce’s lips as he hugged you closer to him and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. He loved waking up with you in his arms, it was his favourite part of the day – when all his worries about Gotham were still dormant in the back of his mind, when he could bask in the peacefulness of the morning with your steady breathing reminding him how lucky he was that you were so much of a hothead, you had him pull over on the side of the road to reprimand his reckless driving when he almost rear ended your car. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, because your anger and your indifference to his celebrity status had already caught his heart right then and there, the fact that you were breathtakingly beautiful was only a plus. Six years had passed since then and Bruce had tried his best to remain on your good side in that time, but it happened sometimes that you let out your anger on him – like when he let Dick patrol with him for the first time. He found that he was still as captivated and enamoured with you as he was when the two of you first met, you’re just so hot when you’re angry, he can’t help it.

Overcome with the love he held for you, Bruce started peppering soft, barely-there kisses on your cheek, your nose, your jaw and your neck, moving you to lay on your back as he did so for him to have better access to your skin. His gentle touches pulled you out of your slumber and you stretched out your limbs, your husband never relenting with his affections.

“Good morning, my love,” Bruce whispered in between kisses on your throat.

You giggled, the softness of his lips tickling you. “Good morning,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck while his held you tight under your back. You turned your head to glance at the digital clock on your bedside table, noticing the time displayed in red light. “Isn’t it too early to be awake on a Saturday morning?”

“What time is it?” Bruce asked as he comfortably laid on you, his face now resting in the crook of your neck.

“Ten past seven,” you answered, your hands finding their way to your husband’s hair. Your fingers threaded through his soft waves and you felt him hum in satisfaction against you.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” he weakly argued, eyes closing as your scent comforted him.

“Bruce, I can literally feel your breathing slowing down like it does when you fall asleep,” you chuckled.

“Then we should do something to stay awake and enjoy these minutes of peace we have that are oh so rare,” Bruce suggested with an impish tone.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, “we haven't made blueberry waffles in quite some time.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stood up above you, trapping you under his body with his elbows resting on both sides of your head. “Can we just stay in bed?” He asked, his crooked grin on his lips as he leaned down, brushing the tip of your nose with his.

“And do what?” You feigned innocence, but your husband knew you too well – he had known you for more than six years after all, he liked to think he knew you more than he knew himself – and the mischievousness in your eyes didn't go past him.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” Bruce said before claiming your lips with his. You breathed a sigh of relief that he absorbed and he placed himself in between your legs.

He stood up after a minute for the both of you to get some air and teasingly tugged at the hem of your shirt (which really was one of his old Princeton shirts from his university days). “I think it's not fair I’m the only one who's bare chest,” he said, raising the shirt just above your bellybutton.

“I think you make a compelling argument, Mr. Wayne,” you playfully agreed then removed said shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Bruce didn’t waste any second, immediately peppering your chest with kisses the moment your skin was freed from your clothes. You relaxed into your pillow, enjoying the attention your husband was giving to every inch of your body. He took his time to savour your taste and you let him. There was no rushing this morning, only the two of you in your bubble of love where time and the outside world didn’t exist.

He nipped his teeth all over your chest, leaving soft bite marks in his trail, and sucked on your nipples, his hand massaging your boob his mouth wasn’t currently attached to.

“Bruce…” You mewled after he spent five minutes on each of your breasts, only now beginning his slow descent down your stomach. Ten minutes of working you up had you now very impatient and wanting for more.

“Patience, my love,” Bruce said against your skin, getting closer to where you needed him most. “We’re taking it slow this morning, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Mmm, I know of two certain boys who will be knocking at our door in less than an hour to see if you’re awake so you can watch the morning cartoons with them,” you argued, raising up your hips when he started leaving kisses on the inside of your right thigh.

“That won’t be a problem,” your husband reassured you before claiming your clit in his mouth, making you squeal in surprise. “Good thing I had the walls of our bedroom soundproofed,” he paused his sucking on your bundle of nerves to tease you with a grin on his shiny lips.

You glared at him, unamused, which made him chuckle at your cute face and he quickly kissed your thigh before going back to his previous task. He lapped the slick in between your folds like a man who had spent fourteen days in the desert and was drinking water for the first time. His tongue teased your entrance before diving in, grunting in pleasure when your hips bucked up closer to him, making his nose brush against your clit. Bruce could never get tired of you, of your taste, of the sounds you made because of him. It spurred him on and for the time being, his only purpose in life was to satisfy you.

He couldn’t even begin to explain the control you had over him, the way you guided him through this life like a lighthouse in a storm. He was putty in your hands, has been ever since the two of you met, and he knew very well how lost he would be without you. Yeah, he would be financially secured thanks to his family, but in every other aspect of his life, even as Batman, he wouldn’t be who he was today without you. And Bruce, who had never really been good at vocally expressing his feelings, would let you know how thankful he was to have you in his life the way he knew best: by pleasuring you to completion like no other person ever has before because no one has taken the time to learn every single reaction of your body like he had.

“Bruce…” you whined as your hand tugged at his hair. You needed more, you needed more than just his tongue inside of you so you pulled him up by the head, bringing him to your level, and attached your lips to his, tasting yourself on him, while your legs wound around his waist. You felt his hard cock brushing against your center through the fabric of his boxers and jolted at the slight pressure applied on your clitoris.

The two of you slowly and messily made out, Bruce’s right hand holding your cheek and his left one clutching onto your hip. Your hands had found their way to the waistband of his boxers, trying to pull them down to get what you wanted. Bruce helped you, his left hand leaving your hip to remove the only item of clothing still on, his mouth never detaching from yours as he did so.

Once fully nude, Bruce retracted from you, standing on his knees before dipping his fingers between your folds to gather some of your wetness and rub it over his dick. You watched him with anticipation, the sight before you something you could never get tired of. Your husband was straight out of a dream and, still to this day, you’d pinch yourself sometimes to make sure you were awake, that this was your life.

That somehow, Bruce Wayne fell in love with you.

But he was also so different from how he presented himself to the media, to the public, that sometimes you forgot you married the Bruce Wayne, heir to the powerful Wayne family, prince of Gotham. To you, he was just your silly husband who was incredibly hot and put everybody else before him.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Bruce brushed the tip of his cock against the lips of your pussy. “I hope I’m not too much of a bore, darling,” he said, a teasing undertone lacing his words.

“No, just admiring the view and how lucky I am that my husband is so damn hot,” you replied playfully though there were no lies to your answer.

“Clearly you haven’t looked at yourself in the mirror lately babe because I’m the lucky one,” Bruce told you, his eyes confidently holding yours to show how truthful he was. He lined himself with your entrance, his stare never leaving your face so that he could drink in your expressions when he sheathed himself to the hilt inside you.

The two of you groaned in pleasure and Bruce took a moment to bask in your warmth, his eyes roaming all over you.

“Especially when you look so goddamn gorgeous with my cock inside you,” he added onto his previous comment, making you roll your eyes at the machoness of his words.

“Shut up and start moving already,” you chuckled.

“As you wish, my darling,” he leaned down to kiss you again and started rolling his hips to a slow, steady pace.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again while your hands found their place at his nape, scratching his scalp and tugging his hair, making him moan in your mouth. Your tongues danced to the same rhythm as Bruce’s thrusts, the both of you drowning in the feeling of the other.

Sex with Bruce was usually more rapid, more frantic, more bruising, more fiery, and you loved it. You loved how he could make you forget about the gala happening right down the hallway and the handprints he’d unconsciously leave on your hips from his grip. But you also loved when sex with Bruce was languid with no hurry. When one made you forget everything, the other basked you in love and made you feel like you were in a dream.

Bruce’s mouth left yours to trail down your cheek, then your jaw, until it found its place in the crook of your neck. He deposited open mouthed kisses all over your skin, licking it and leaving small nips on it. He easily found the pulse point behind your ear and, knowing you could easily hide that spot, started sucking on it and doubled the pleasure building inside you.

It made your breath hitch and your nails dig in his back muscles, leaving small red crescents on his skin. You felt him smile against your skin, his pride always swelled up to the reactions he was able to pull out of you.

“Mph, you feel so good darling,” Bruce groaned in your ear and kissed it. “You always do.”

“And you make me feel so good baby,” you answered, squeezing your walls around him as you said so.

Bruce’s head appeared in your eyeline again, his famous grin on his lips as his eyes roamed over your face, full of love. “I love you,” he told you.

You were about to say ‘I love you’ back but he didn’t let you, claiming your mouth with his instead to drag you in another make out session. He changed the angle of his hips at the same time and the tip of his dick brushed your G-spot, making you mewl. Bruce’s left hand fell down to the back of your right thigh, gripping it tight as he held it a little higher. It allowed him to go about one more inch further, said spot now being hit with every thrust.

“Oh God, yes,” you freed your mouth from his as your head fell back, your eyes squeezing shut due to the pleasure gradually overtaking your senses.

“Look at me, darling,” Bruce asked you and you obeyed, struggling to keep your eyes open as the two of you held eye contact. “Are you close?”

He knew you were, he knew your body like the back of his hand, but he still asked you the question just to be sure.

You couldn’t answer him. Your mouth was in a permanent ‘o’ shape as breathy moans escaped your lips with every thrust and you were unable to focus for more than one second on how to speak. So you nodded your head yes.

Bruce’s hand that held your thigh let it go to instead dip between your legs, easily finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with just the right amount of pressure. He proudly watched as you unravelled beneath him, your orgasm hitting you with full force. As he helped you ride it out, he reached his own climax and fell over you, but still made sure to not put his entire weight on you, as the two of you caught your breath.

Your husband removed himself from inside you and rolled over to lay next to you on his side so he could face you. “I love you,” he said again, kissing your temple covered with a sheen of sweat.

You turned to face him, your hand reaching to hold his cheek as you replied, “I love you”. You kissed him on the lips, this time short and sweet, and Bruce laid on his back so you could snuggle up against him with your head on his chest.

“You know, we should wash up before the boys come knocking on our door,” you said after a few minutes of peace.

“Can we just stay in bed for another minute?” Bruce childishly whined, his fingers brushing up and down your bare bicep.

“You're such a big baby,” you teased him, chuckling.

“Well sorry I’m a little spent from our early morning activity,” he lightheartedly argued.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” you said, rising on your elbows to look over him. “I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll bring back with me a wet cloth for you to wash yourself and then we can cuddle and maybe go back to sleep until Dick and Jason crash through the door to drag you downstairs and watch cartoons. Sounds like a deal?”

“Sounds like a really good deal to me,” Bruce answered, bringing you down to peck your lips before he rested his hands behind his head. “You should come down to the tower next time we’re looking to make a deal with another company.”

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine with leaving all that work to you,” you pecked his lips once again and stood up from the bed, not bothering to cover yourself up. “I’ll be right back,” you said behind your shoulder as you walked towards the bathroom connected to your room.

Bruce didn’t hear you, too preoccupied with staring at your ass to focus on anything else. God, I’m the luckiest man in all of Gotham, he thought to himself before you disappeared through the door frame.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

say yes

kinktober, day twenty-one

a/n: ...i personally wouldn't mind becoming mrs. wayne.......

warnings: bruce wayne (pattinson) x fiancé!reader, smut, established relationship, possessiveness, oral, cock worship, dirty talk

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

With the newly ring adorned hand softly wrapped around your fiancé’s girth, tender gaze locked on his, you littered his throbbing length with sweet, sloppy kisses.

Pecks fluttering down towards the base, you dipped further down and drooled over his heavy sack. Mouth gently agape as he watched you in awe, one of his hands then drifted it way down to yours, dreamily brushing his fingertip over the jewel. 

“Say it again,” he breathed as your lips teased their way back up to the dewy head, “say yes,” staring at you as if you were a deity at his feet, “tell me that you’re all mine.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sunburnhurts]

Tired || Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader (Battinson)

Summary: Y/n has been supportive of her husband's secret life, but she is exhausted. A year after their separation, they are reunited at Don Mitchell's funeral. The beginning of the story is before the movie, and ofc the mayor's funeral is an event in the movie. The mayors funeral scene isn't exactly like how it was in the movie, but somewhat close.

Words: 2,426

All My Stories

A/n: Hey guys! I haven't posted in a while, I'm so sorry!! I've decided to start doing batman stories, but I'm still doing Cedric ones too! Requests are open! I also wanted to add I have a lot of drafts, so I haven't posted in a while, but I have some stories in the process!

Y/n listens as her husband, Bruce Wayne, shuffles off their bed, onto his feet. She hears his feet against the hardwood floor echoing the dead silent room. She hates it, him waking up in the middle of the night to be Batman.

Ever since he started being Batman, he's been distant. He slowly stopped touching her over the years. He's always be in a different room, on a different end of the couch, different end of the bed.

At first, she excused it as him being tired from saving the city. She would curse herself for being selfish, why should she be complaining when he is saving human beings, bringing good to Gotham? Then she got tired of making herself feel bad.

Y/n tried having conversations with Bruce about his sleep schedule, how much he eats, how much time he spends worrying about being Batman. These conversations always ended in arguments or Bruce not responding to whatever his wife said because he was too busy working on his suit.

Alfred of course noticed Bruce's distance from his wife. He would try talking to Bruce about his worry for Y/n, saying she is lonely during the day without her husband. Bruce would always brush off what Alfred said, worried about 'more important' things to him.

It's not like Y/n was a lonely house wife, she was an actress who was on break. Before she met Bruce, she was in big movies, making just enough money to start a family. When she met Bruce, of course her popularity spiked more. A big actress and a billionaire getting married was big news in the press.

She was now on break from her job because everything became too much for her. Her depression grew from lack of love from her husband. She put herself in therapy, which made her realize she wasn't being selfish. She of course didn't tell her therapist about her husband being batman, covering it up as his new job.

Now, she was listening to her husbands feet taping against their hardwood floor. She let out a breath, listening to him step into the elevator that leads to the 'batcave'. She made up her mind, she didn't want to be trapped in her life, in this mansion.

Half an hour later, she got up, walking over the the same elevator and going down.

"Bruce, we have to talk." She said, stepping out of the elevator, walking over to her husband. She had a calmness in her voice. She heard no answer. As soon as she was behind him, she stopped walking. He was working on something on his desk, she didn't care enough to know what he was working on. "Bruce."

After a hum of a response came from her husband, she hesitated with what she was about to say. This scenario seemed much more easier in her head, the countless times she replayed it in her mind. But once she saw him, it was a lot harder than she was expecting.

"I want a divorce." She plainly said. She watched as her husbands head moved, but didn't turn to look at her. "I've been thinking about it a lot-"

"Are you serious?" He said, fully turning his head around to look at his wife. His voice sounded more angry then upset.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," She repeated, ignoring his question. "and I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" He angrily asked.

"Be ignored!" She shouted, feeling her eyes swell up. She hated that he didn't already know what he's been doing. A clenched jaw was all she got in response. "Bruce," She started. "you haven't touched me in so long."

"I've been busy, you know that."

"You know you're just saying that as an excuse." Hearing this made Bruce turn his body fully to the vulnerable, standing girl. "God, Bruce! I don't even recognize you anymore!"

He shakes his head, scoffing. He moved his eyes everywhere but his wife, his breathing heavy with anger. A ding was heard on his computer, indicating Batman was needed.

"Are you going to get that?" Y/n said, making Bruce's eyes lay on her.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, if you don't be Batman for one night, and you take me back upstairs and show me you love me, I'll take back everything I said about divorce." It was true, one kiss from him would change her mind, she was so desperate for affection and she hated it. She prayed in the back of her mind for him to get up, swoop her in his arms, and take her upstairs. But he stayed still.

He turned his head at the computer, taking a moment to decide. She watched as he got up from his chair, walking over to his suit of armor. Her heart ached. She angled her head to the ground, biting the inside of her lip and bringing her hand up to rub her philtrum. Tears stung her eyes as her throat burned.

She wanted to run to him, grab his face, kiss him. She also wanted to run to him, push him, yell curses at him, ruin all his batman equipment. But she knew better.

Beyond heartbroken, she made her way over to the elevator. She had a slight feeling of selfishness, making him choose between her and a job of a hero, but then she squashed that feeling almost immediately. It should have been obvious to pick his wife, he shouldn't have even had to think about it.

Once Y/n made it back upstairs, she started packing everything. Her clothes, shoes, anything she found that was hers. She couldn't stay there any longer, she couldn't look at Bruce any longer. She was a mess now, tears streaming down her cheeks as she hiccuped her breath.

It wasn't even close to morning, she had no idea where she would be going. Her family didn't live in Gotham, they lived on the other side of the country. She had actor friends that lived near, maybe she could try them. She thought of a girl, Nicole, she worked with that she grew very close with, hoping she could crash at her place for the night.

Y/n took out her phone, clicking on Nicole's contact, and pressing call. She listened to the phone ring while she kept packing her things. "Hello? Y/n?"

"Nicole!" Y/n said in a voice that anyone could tell she was upset. "Um- I'm so sorry for such a late call, I really could use your help right now."

"Of course! What's wrong, sweetie?" Nicole said over the phone. Y/n was younger that Nicole, Nicole was like a mother figure to her.

"I just need a place to stay, only for tonight. I will be out by the morning, I promise." Y/n closed her suitcase, zipped it up and sat on her and Bruce's bed. Her head was in her hands as she tried calming down her tears.

"You can stay for as long as you would like!" Nicole's voice calmed her down, giving her the strength to walk out of the mansion.

After Y/n made a plan to meet Nicole, she hung up and made her way to the kitchen with her bags. Her memory flashed to Alfred, it wasn't fair of her to leave Alfred without saying anything. She didn't want to wake him, so she decided on making a note for him.

She grabbed a note pad and a pen, writing Alfred, thank you for everything you've done for me, I love you so much. - Y/n. Tears stained the sheet of paper, she didn't want to leave Alfred, the man who took her in and loved her when Bruce wouldn't.

When Alfred saw the note, his blood boiled. He knew this was going to happen, but he hated that Bruce let her leave. Alfred immediately busted into Bruce's room, waking Bruce up. "What did you do?" He angrily shouted, holding up the note. "Why did you let her leave?"

Bruce sat up and stretched, waking himself up before he took the note in his hand. He read it, heart beating harder. He thought Y/n just went to sleep in one of their guest bedrooms, he didn't know how serious she was the night prior.

~~~~

Months after the divorce finalized, Y/n was feeling a lot better. She now owned her own house, had a new big movie she was working on, and was happier. She of course never told anyone about Bruce Wayne's big secret, she still respected and loved him. There was no way she couldn't not love him.

Her mind would wonder off, thinking about what would have happened if he did actually pick her up, took her back up to their bedroom, loved her. She wonder if things would have changed, if he actually would have taken her seriously and been better for her. She then would bring herself back to reality, dealing with the harsh reality that that didn't actually happen, and it wasn't going to.

Y/n didn't see Bruce after that night, but she knew he was watching her. She knew what his gaze felt like, she would feel it when she walked on the street, even when she was in her home. Although she was mad at him for spying on her, a part of her loved him for looking after her, for missing her.

The media of course made a big deal about this separation. They created rumors and lies about why they split up, it was always something not even close to the truth. That Bruce cheated on her, that she was having a secret affair with her friend Nicole, or that they both were married as a publicity stunt. It was all stupid.

Whenever Y/n was asked about it in interviews, she would deny the rumors. "It was a 'right person wrong time' kind of thing, I still respect and love him very much." She would always say something of that sort to the public. It was true. She would never answer personal questions about Bruce. Mostly she was asked why he was so reserved for being so well known.

Every now and then, Y/n watched the news about what Batman did the night before. She hated that even after the divorce, he still was saving the city, but what was he supposed to do now? He now didn't have a wife to come home to, how else was he supposed to fill his time, how else was he supposed to take his anger out?

He hated himself for picking being Batman, he missed his wife so much. He ate less, slept less, breathed less. He always wanted to reach out, he wanted to hear her voice, smell her scent, feel her touch. He now knew this is how she felt when he was ignoring her. God, he hated himself.

He would watch over her, make sure she's safe. Make sure she's happy. He heard about her being in a big upcoming movie, he was glad she was living her life, even if it was without him.

When Don Mitchell was murdered, Bruce was invited to the funeral. Although he already knew more about the murder as Batman, he needed to be at the funeral just in case any information was released from anyone. It would be odd if Batman showed up to a funeral.

He dreaded going out. He barely went out in public as Bruce Wayne before the divorce, but now he avoided it even more.

Bruce drove his car through the crowd of people, following where ever he was told to go. Once he was there, he got out of the car and handed the keys to the valet and hands him some money. He hears the press screaming his name to come over to talk to them, but he of course didn't. He was there for one thing.

Bruce followed the other known people into the building, listening to any conversation he can. His eyes stayed on the ground, as if not looking at anyone would make it easier to hear. His eyes glanced up for a quick second, catching a glimpse of a girl whose back was turned to him.

He fully turned his attention to the girl, recognizing her. He stopped in his tracks, heart starting to ache. Y/n stood before him, talking to her friend who he recognized as Nicole. He watched as Nicole noticed him, nudging Y/n, bringing her attention to Bruce. It was the first time since the divorce that they made eye contact.

Y/n's eyebrows furrowed in a mix of surprise and longing. She gives Bruce a closed mouth smile, biting the inside of her lips. She looked behind Bruce, seeing that Mayor Reál was approaching him. Knowing that Bruce hates talking to people, Y/n walks over to Bruce, stopping right in front of him.

Bruce watches as Y/n walks to him, his heart racing, his arms longing for her, but he keeps them still. There was no expression on his face, but she could tell he missed her. Y/n watches as the new to be mayor notices her and walks away, leaving the 2 alone.

"Hello, Bruce." She sweetly says, smiling up at him.

Y/n spent 2 years in her marriage already feeling like they've been divorced, so it didn't take long for her to get herself back on her feet after the divorce. It wasn't hard to see him because of the heartbreak, it was hard to see his dark circles under his eyes, his prominent bones much sharper from lack of food.

"Hey, Y/n." His rough voice responded. He cleared his voice.

They started talking about how they've been since the divorce, Y/n could tell he changed a lot. He was more open to talking about his feelings with her, his eyes never left hers, his eyebrows pulled closer together and lowered as he listened to her talk.

"We should catch up more," Y/n starts, "not here, though." Bruce nods, hoping this meant good for their relationship. "Still have my number?"

"Of course," Bruce gave a ghost of a smile.

"It was nice seeing you Bruce," Y/n places her hand on his arm. "talk later?" Bruce finally broke eye contact to look at Y/n's hand placement. He missed her so much.

He nods while saying, "It was nice seeing you too, Y/n."

Bruce was never mad at Y/n for the divorce, he was always only mad at himself. He never wanted to watch over Y/n while she lived her life, but he couldn't ever help it. He wanted to distance himself as far away from her as possible, but he needed to know she was okay.

When Y/n walked away, back to Nicole, Bruce reminded himself of why he was here. His eyes landed on Don Mitchell's son, the one that found his father dead. He noticed that Y/n was now talking to the widow, Mrs. Mitchell.

Bloody screams came from outside, a lot of commotion from the second story of the church. Bruce looked up and saw someone standing still, not being effected by all the movement and screams. Bruce knew something bad was about to happen, he looked back at Y/n and Mitchell's kid. Y/n was facing Bruce, standing in front of the kid.

Y/n rushed the kid and the mother away from the front of the church. She didn't know what was going on, but she wanted to help. She also didn't know where to go, so she just stood there, looking at Bruce confused and worried.

A car bursts through the church. Bruce runs and grabs Y/n, saving her from being crashed into. They rolled on the ground, stopping a few feet from where she once stood. Stunned by what was happening, Y/n stayed still laying on the ground.

Bruce got up, holding a hand out for her. She grabbed it, helping herself up. "You need to go," Bruce said, still holding onto the girls hand. Before Y/n could say anything in return, people were screaming at the person driving the car to get out.

Bruce and Y/n turn their attention to the car door opening and a man struggling to get out. Something was bolted around his neck, a bomb strapped to him. "Y/n, you need to leave." Bruce said again, this time a lot more serious. Y/n nodded, letting go of Bruce's hand and quickly exited the building.

~~~~

Y/n was safely at her home now, out of the funeral clothes, and was now laying down in her warm bath, rethinking the events that happened hours before. Everything confused her, but she knew it somehow was related to Batman. She then thought about Bruce Wayne.

She missed him, of course, praying he would reach out to her. She knew that it was unfair of her to break off their marriage but then expect him to come running back to her, but she knew he changed. She could tell by the way he spoke, the way he opened up to her, the way he looked at her.

As she thought about this, she heard her phone ping. She didn't think anything of it, ignoring it until she was out of the bath. As she wrapped herself in her towel, she picked up her phone.

Messages: Bruce Wayne Hey

Her eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. She reread the message, making sure she wasn't seeing things. She bit her lips, holding the phone, smiling. She opened her phone, clicking on the message to reply. "Hey" she wrote back. She wasn't sure what else to say, she thought for a moment.

After Bruce sent Y/n the text, he was praying to not mess up the second chance Y/n was giving him. He sat in his batcave, hovering over his phone, waiting for a reply. When his phone lit up, he immediately saw it. "Hey" It read. He picks up his phone, unlocking it and he starts typing, "You looked really beautiful today." But then he erased it, thinking it wasn't appropriate.

Seeing the 3 dots appear from Bruce's profile got her excited, but when they disappeared, she was confused. She put her phone down, getting dressed into her pajamas. Once she came back to her phone, there was no new messages from Bruce. Sighing, she typed something.

"Thank you for saving me, I didn't get to say it earlier." Bruce cracked a smile at this text from Y/n. He was happy that even though he didn't respond, she still texted back. "It's no problem." He wrote back.

"Can we meet up sometime tomorrow, to catch up?" Y/n sent. Bruce immediately replied, "Yeah, 11 at my place?" Y/n smiled, replying with "Yeah, I'll see you then."

Smiling at his phone, Bruce gets up and exits the batcave, making his way to Alfred. Bruce informs him about Y/n coming over, making Alfred ecstatic. He then scolds Bruce about the importance of not messing this up, making Bruce roll his eyes in annoyance. "I know, I'm not going to mess this up."

~~~~

Y/n walks into the Wayne manor, smiling at the guards at the entrance that recognize her, nodding their heads at her as she passed. She turned a corner, seeing Bruce waiting for her at the entrance of the elevator. Smiling, Y/n walks to him. His smile grew at the sight of her, his eyes longing for her once again.

"Hey," She says as they both walk into the elevator.

"Hey," He said, his eyes never leaving her. As the elevator door closed and starting moving up, silence fell between them.

Unsure if the silence was awkward or not, Y/n said with a joking voice, "So, what was that about yesterday?"

"Hm?" Bruce says for a moment before responding with a sigh, "Oh, it's a really long story." He brings a hand up to rub his eyes, which looked very tired.

"So, you're still doing the Batman stuff?" Y/n asks, looking up at him.

Bruce nods, adding, "After our," he pauses for a moment, "uh, divorce, I didn't know what to do with myself." He looks at her, unsure if bringing up the divorce was still a touchy subject or not.

"Yeah," she says, nodding and scratching the back of her neck, "I wanted to talk to you about that- the divorce."

As Bruce nods once more as the elevator doors open. He was unsure how the conversation would go, what she wanted to talk about, but he prayed for a good result.

Bruce paused for a moment, almost holding his hand out for Y/n to grab so he could lead her to the table like they did when they first started dating, but he couldn't. He takes a step out of the elevator and leads Y/n to the table that Alfred set up. He pulls out a chair, allowing Y/n to sit in it, and when she does, he pushed it in for her.

She barely blushed at this action, reminding herself that she can't do that. She sent a smile at him, watching as he sat down in his own seat across from her.

"So, um," She starts, not knowing how to start the conversation. Her head was down, avoiding eye contact. "I just wanted to tell you why I did it, I know I just left and we never got to talk through it,"

"I understand why you left," Y/n looked up, listening to him. "I was a terrible husband, I hate that it took us splitting up for me to realize that." It was now Bruce's turn to avoid eye contact as he spoke, "I'm truly sorry, for everything I put you through. And I know, a sorry is not even close to enough to what you deserve." He was looking down, feeling her eyes on him.

She leans over the table, placing her hand on his, causing him to look at her. "I know you're sorry, and I am sorry too. I made you choose between something you love doing and me, that was unfair of me to do."

"No, but I should have chose you," he pauses for a moment, looking into her eyes, "I want to choose you." His hand that was beneath hers flips so that their hand was resting in his palm.

Y/n looks down at the movement of his hand, then back up at him, registering his words. "And we'll have to work on that."

"Are you saying-"

"Yeah, we'll work on it," She says nodding, "work on us."

The End

A/n: Thank you so much for reading! Request if you have any!