#*talia.

talia strokes his stubbled jaw in an affectionate manner.

for this singular moment, she doesn't want to blemish the exchange with words. words, sometimes, carried little. actions however, spoke greatly. stepping in closer, she'll press her head into his shoulder and nestles there. an obvious sign that the assassin has no plans to leave anytime soon.

@bruz3r.

PROMPTS.

the assassin was more than accustomed to bruce's antics, so when she had the upper hand, she took it. not that she's in the habit of bragging, but she wlll enjoy this moment for however long she has it. in the warmth of early morning light, she catches him. fingers curled around the worn collar of his good evening shirt and pulls him in for a kiss that not only lingers, vut promises to keep his mind from whatever focus he might have had ahead of him.

poor bruce.

@dramatisperscnae.

more prompts for your feels

the assassin is draped around bruce much like a cloak upon the skin. languid, almost boneless. his question catches her thoughts. and in earnest, talia gives the inquiry some thought.

‘ weariness, of a man too devoted to bringing justice to his community. ’ brash, but none the less, a strikingly accurate description.

‘ a dutiful father who will cease at nothing to give his children what he had reaped from him in his formative years. ’

‘ my beloved. habibi. husband. ’

‘ home. ’

@dramatisperscnae.

despite knowing just how stubborn he can be about his own well being.

half-hooded gaze sweeps the expanse of the master bedroom cloaked in moonlight. brunette waves tucked against a scarred, chiseled torso.

a knowing smile as his arm shifts, bringing her closer against him. though there wasn't much space in the beginning.

‘ habibi. ’ she chides, though lowly. ‘ you should be sleeping. ’

@bruz3r gets some brutalia.