#but i guess its worth a shot

[the-punforgiven]

My brain last night was trying to dream about watching the movie Jaws with my beloved, but I have never actually seen the movie Jaws so the "footage from the movie" my brain conjured up concerned the titular creature "Jaws", a bizarre undersea millipede-like creature with a shark's head (This was a false head to deter predators when it wasn't hunting.)

It had a thick carapace lined with small venomous spikes that held an insanely powerful numbing agent. "Jaws" was roughly the size of a small dog (initially, though was still noticeably longer) and covered in small gnashing teeth alongside nearly the entirety of the creature's underside. When it needed to hunt, "Jaws" would bury itself in the sand of shallow lakes, waiting for a human to step too close. Once they did step too close, the human's leg would be rendendered fully numb by the creature's venom and "Jaws" would latch onto and wrap around the leg, using both its teeth and its apparently sharp legs(?) to gruesomely rip and tear the numbed flesh down to the bone, before quickly leaving the unfortunate human and scuttling the fuck off into the sea to apparently molt into something roughly double its size. By the end of the movie it had grown to the point it was wrapping around and attempting to devour entire cargo ships.

I don't know what the FUCK creature that was, but even I know that sure as shit wasn't Jaws

[shaulah]

i feel like the difference between these two reveals just tells you everything you need to know about natla

[dexaroth]

I would have to do plenty of research but bluesky is kind of tempting. I know very little about it so it's just a little tug as of now though

[smute]

approximately once a month ill get really anxious about the state of the world and my life and family and the future and the self doubt will hit me like a train and suddenly ill be questioning all of my plans and telling myself that i need to stop fucking around and get a proper adult job right now at eleven pee em on a thursday and then ill spend a few hours doomscrolling on indeed dot com more out of guilt than anything else only to realize that the job that will allow me to go the next 5 years without wanting to put a bullet through my head hasnt been invented yet so whats the point of anything really and i always arrive at the same conclusion namely that since all hope is lost anyway i might as well stick with what i really want to do no matter how starry-eyed or economically unwise it may be which isn't the soundest logic but also difficult to argue against and every time i come out of the cycle with a little less faith in myself and no helpful insights whatsoever and i just wonder how many more times i can go through this routine before i give up on my so-called """dreams""" (yuck) for good.

[elibean]

that was it????????? THAT was the cut that got the entire bsdogs fandom to boycott the anime?????????????

my god i will never understand manga fans

[cherry-shipping]

started replaying broken age now after 6 years……… can you believe i felt a pang of jealousy and sadness that a character who is a literal silly knife with a face implied it had dated another character once (a spoon with a face)

[azztr0n0my]

im about to attempt something really stupid

[halomancer]

Macro test ft. Arcyria

[fertilizing-daffodils]

…..damn it. I know I’m just sad and mad. I’m smad. And now I’m smangry because I can’t think of the actual word.

[batmanlovesnirvana]

—‘marriage of convenience.’

BRUCE WAYNE X FEM!READER

ONE SHOT | smut, minors DNI.

synopsis : In a marriage of convenience, emotions were never part of the plan, yet they’ve begun to surface. You’ve always wanted to be a mother, but uncertainty hangs in the air. Your husband has four sons—why would he want another with someone who was never meant to stay?

A/N: This one’s a bit longer because I’m focusing on building up the pace, but I promise it’s worth it—or at least, I hope so! I didn’t specify which version of Bruce Wayne I used, so feel free to picture your favorite! I know it’s a bit of a cliché, but I’m a sucker for this plot, and I haven’t seen many similar ones with Bruce, sooo… here we go I guess ? Also, English isn’t my first language, so apologies in advance for any mistakes <3

THE MASTER BEDROOM felt both too big and too small at once—filled with walls of unspoken words and silences that grew louder each night.

Nine months had passed since you’d agreed to this marriage with Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s most enigmatic billionaire by day and its silent guardian by night. He had told you his reasons, vague as they were, and you had yours.

Still, it was a marriage of convenience—a carefully orchestrated arrangement that left you perpetually feeling out of place, knowing it could end at any moment.

It wasn’t as if you’d come from wealth, either. Your life before Gotham was modest, middle-class, and worlds away from Bruce’s fortune and the grandeur of Gotham’s elite.

This marriage was supposed to be a shield—a calculated protection from some gang’s threat, leaked just enough to the Justice League to ensure Bruce’s intervention. Beyond that, the reasons were murky, known only to him.

But hey, you were married to a billionaire, at least for now. If nothing else, it would make for one unforgettable line on your résumé.

Through the vanity mirror, you watched him, absorbed in his meticulous ritual of dressing for the gala. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as he adjusted his cufflinks with a focus that held you captive every time.

The tailored suit framed his broad shoulders perfectly, narrowing to his trim waist, offering fleeting glimpses of the muscles shifting beneath his skin. His jaw was set, and a few unruly strands of dark hair fell just above his eyes as he tightened his tie.

Those blue eyes. God, they were enough to undo you.

You forced yourself to look away, turning to your own reflection, hoping it would quiet the ache swelling in your chest.

But it didn’t.

No matter how often you told yourself you were fine with the space between you, a quiet longing lingered—a need to be more than just an arrangement, more than a convenience.

The feeling ran deeper than you’d ever admit—far beyond the desire you tried to bury.

You wanted him to want you—truly, fully, unreservedly, and completely.

Foolishly, you even dreamed of children. His children. But you reminded yourself it was just that—a dream. He already had five sons, and one day, he’d likely find someone better suited to his world.

You swallowed the ache and tied the silk robe firmly around your waist, applying a final touch of red lipstick and smoothing your glossy hair into place.

The dress, lying in wait on the bed, was a sleek masterpiece that clung to every curve. You couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation at the thought of his reaction, even if it was silly. Ridiculous, you scolded yourself. Pathetic, really, to hope he might notice.

With a nervous breath, you slipped off the robe and began to step into the gown, unaware that he was watching, his gaze tracing your every movement.

Bruce adjusted his cufflinks, stealing a glance from the corner of his eye as you bent down, the delicate fabric of your lingerie tracing every curve. The lace hugged your body perfectly, emphasizing the soft curve of your hips and the tempting line of your back. His fingers paused, the tightening in his chest mirrored by a tension lower that was hard to ignore.

With a clenched jaw, he forced his gaze away, willing himself to focus elsewhere—yet the image of you lingered, vivid and consuming, stirring something he’d long buried, something he wasn’t sure he could ignore much longer.

Finally, you slipped into the dress, smoothing it over your curves before looking up to meet his gaze in the mirror.

The intensity in his eyes was unmistakable; his usual restraint had slipped, revealing a raw hunger that sent a thrill through you.

His gaze traveled slowly, savoring the way the fabric hugged your silhouette, lingering on the curve of your hips, the bare expanse of your collarbone, and the soft line of your chest.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened, and you felt the weight of his attention like a touch, his restraint fraying at the edges.

Your breath caught as you held his gaze, the tension between you thick and electric, an unspoken pull that left your heart pounding. You’d never felt his eyes on you like this—an intensity that thrilled and unsettled you, setting every nerve alight.

Bruce looked away abruptly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, his gaze dark with something he clearly fought to contain.

Yet you could still feel the heat of his gaze lingering on your skin, and a forbidden question lingered in your mind—what would happen if he finally let himself surrender?

You tried to ignore the thrill that raced through your mind, focusing instead on slipping into your dress. But as you reached behind to pull up the zipper, your fingers faltered.

Clearing your throat, you took a steadying breath. “Could you, um… help me with this?”

In a few long strides, Bruce was behind you, his presence filling the mirror as he met your gaze. He reached for the zipper, his touch feather-light, and the brush of his fingers against your bare back sent an involuntary shiver through you.

His movements were unhurried, almost tentative, as if savoring the excuse to be this close. His fingertips lingered a fraction longer than necessary against the base of your spine, rough yet gentle, leaving warmth in their wake.

You couldn’t help the subtle arch of your back at his touch, pressing just close enough that your bodies brushed, igniting a spark that flared dangerously between you.

His breath ghosted against your neck, his eyes lowering to the bare skin exposed before him. And for a breathless moment, his hands lingered, hovering near your shoulders, as though wrestling with the urge to pull you closer.

Then, he stepped back, clearing his throat, the moment dissolving, leaving an ache in its place.

The two of you had never been intimate. On nights when he wasn’t patrolling, you shared a bed, but there was a boundary neither of you had dared to cross.

You had never… been with anyone, and while you weren’t ashamed of your virginity, it was a private matter, something you didn’t feel ready to share with him.

As for Bruce, once Gotham’s most eligible playboy, he’d shed that image completely since the marriage—a surprise to the public, but a quiet relief to you.

Yet, a small part of you wondered if he’d been with anyone else since you’d exchanged vows. The thought tightened your chest with a pang of jealousy you tried to ignore, a feeling that only grew stronger as the months went on.

“You look… breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice rough, as though he had to push the words past some unseen barrier. His warm breath brushed against your neck, and a shiver trailed down your spine that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

The sincerity in his tone pierced through the walls you’d carefully constructed, the tenderness resonating deeper than you expected.

“Thank you.” Your voice sounded softer than you intended, and you turned from the mirror to face him, finding his face only inches away from yours.

You let your hand drift to his shoulder, where he’d been wounded just the night before—a jagged slice you’d barely managed to patch up in the early hours before dawn, despite his protests. The paramedic in you had insisted on cleaning and dressing it properly, even if he brushed off your concern.

Absently, you brushed your fingers over the clothed spot, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch as you assessed for any tension or pain. “And you… you don’t look too bad yourself,” you managed, offering a soft smile.

His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile—the kind he usually reserved for his family—and warmth blossomed within you. You felt… safe, desired in a way that transcended the formalities of your arrangement.

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, your fingers lingering as they traced small circles over the fabric.

“Almost healed,” he replied, his eyes softening. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the gesture so tender it nearly unraveled you. The warmth of his fingers sent a thrill skittering across your skin, lingering long after his hand fell away.

The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the unsaid words that hung between you.

For a heartbeat, you almost dared to believe that he felt something deeper too. But then he stepped back, creating a measured distance that returned him to the safety of formality, the moment slipping away like sand through your fingers.

You stepped back as well, the warmth of his touch still imprinted on your skin, and took a shaky breath. "Well, we should get going," you said softly, striving to regain your composure, to suppress the surge of longing that clung to every part of you he’d touched.

But Bruce held your gaze, the tension in the air so thick you could almost taste it.

He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it, casting one last lingering glance over you before slipping on his suit coat. "Of course," he replied, his tone as stoic as ever, as if nothing had happened. "Tonight is important."

With a final breath to steady yourself, you began to put on your high heels, fastening your earrings and necklace before spritzing on a hint of perfume. As you donned your fur coat and grabbed your clutch, you felt a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

Bruce was waiting by the door, his posture relaxed yet alert, a man ready for the evening’s demands.

You stepped beside him, and for a moment, you both stood silently, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air, as if the night held the potential to change everything.

The grand staircase was silent as you descended, the soft tap of your heels against the marble echoing through the empty expanse of Wayne Manor.

With Alfred away visiting family in England and the boys off with friends, the mansion felt hollow tonight, every corner draped in shadows and stillness.

Outside, Bruce’s sleek sports car waited, polished and gleaming under the foyer lights.

Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door for you, his eyes catching yours with a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

You slid into the car, smoothing your dress as you settled in, and he rounded the vehicle to take his place behind the wheel.

As the engine purred to life and Bruce eased onto the long driveway, the question gnawed at you again, sharper this time.

It had been weeks, maybe even months, building inside you—a silent hope that had somehow turned into a constant hum in the back of your mind.

You wanted to ask him about children, about whether he’d ever want to start a family. The words hovered in your chest, heavy as stones, weighing down your heart until they ached.

You could almost hear his answer, feel it—a quiet, certain yes. But in that silent, unspoken response, there was a sharp edge that you couldn’t ignore. He’d want children, maybe even a family, but he wouldn’t want it with you.

You glanced at him, fingers twitching nervously in your lap as you wrestled with the words caught somewhere between your mind and your heart.

The steady hum of the engine filled the silence, but the air between you felt charged, thick with all the unspoken questions.

Bruce’s gaze flicked your way, almost as if he could sense something lingering on the tip of your tongue. “You okay?” he asked, his voice a low, familiar rumble beneath the car’s gentle purr.

You swallowed, drawing in a shaky breath as you tried to steady your thoughts. “Yeah, just… a lot on my mind.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “It’s a big night. But I’ve seen you handle bigger.”

His confidence in you tugged a small smile from your lips, but the question still gnawed at the edges of your resolve.

Did he want a family? Could he imagine your family, a future with you? No. That was foolish.

This was a marriage of convenience—a choice made in the shadows, under false pretenses.

Besides, he had enough wards, allies, people to worry about already. A baby? Your baby? That would be a first, and a step he’d never take with someone like you.

The car glided down Gotham’s dimly lit streets, streetlights casting fleeting golden beams across the quiet interior.

You could feel your heart pounding as you looked down at your hands, fingers twisting nervously in your lap.

The question sat heavily in your chest, fragile and vulnerable. But after so many months of holding it back, you took a deep breath and let the words rise to the surface.

“Bruce…” His name came out as a whisper. You glanced at him, then away, focusing instead on the blur of city lights slipping by outside. “Have you ever thought about… having more kids?”

For a moment, silence filled the car, pressing thick and tense between you.

Bruce’s gaze stayed focused on the road, his face unreadable, shadowed in the dim light. As the seconds dragged on, you started to regret even bringing it up. But then he spoke.

“I didn’t think you’d want to bring that up,” he said, his voice a quiet murmur. “I thought you were… okay with how things are now.”

You hesitated, his answer making your heart clench, but you knew you couldn’t leave it there.

Summoning a shaky breath, you pressed on. “I am, really. I love the boys—each of them. They’re a part of my life in a way I never thought possible,” you said softly, fingers nervously tightening around the fabric of your dress. “It’s just… they know about us. They know this marriage is… part of the mission. And because of that, I think they’ll always see me as someone—” you struggled, searching for the words. “As someone useful, not… someone who matters.”

Bruce’s gaze flicked briefly to you, the hardness in his eyes easing as he listened.

“I know they care about you,” he said quietly, but there was a trace of hesitation in his voice, as if even he was aware of the boys’ guarded reserve, that shield they’d learned to hold around themselves.

“I know they do,” you replied. “They’re so much like you, in that way.” A faint, sad smile touched your lips. “They’re protective, and closed-off, and brave, and so loyal it hurts to watch sometimes. They’d die for you, you know?” You paused, swallowing against the ache in your chest. “I’ve tried to reach out, to be there for them… but I’m not sure they see me as someone important. Just another piece in this game. And I understand that.”

The words lingered between you, exposing the silent ache you’d carried. “But there’s a part of me that still wants…” You trailed off, feeling warmth rise in your cheeks as your heart willed you to continue.

Clearing your throat, you pressed on, “I guess I’ve always thought about… starting something like this, but from the beginning. A chance to be a mother… for real.”

The quiet that followed was painfully raw, every second stretching as you waited, almost afraid to look his way.

But when you did, his expression was softer than you’d ever seen, as if he understood, maybe even felt the same longing.

“I didn’t know,” he murmured, his voice gentler, with a kind of unspoken apology in his eyes. He reached over, his hand covering yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment. “I thought maybe I’d assumed too much—that this marriage, this… arrangement, would always keep us in that gray space.”

Your fingers tightened around his hand, your pulse thundering as you tried to process his words. “So did I… but it’s hard not to think about it now.”

Bruce turned, his eyes catching yours, and in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, you glimpsed something rare—vulnerability in his usually guarded gaze, a hint of the man beneath the mask. “And… if I told you I’ve been thinking about it too?”

The weight of his confession settled between you, mingling with the warmth and hope rising in your chest. Your breath caught, surprised by the honesty of his admission. “Really?” you whispered, the disbelief blending with the gentle swell of emotions you’d kept buried.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his mouth, softening the edge of his stoic expression. “I didn’t think… I’d ever get to look beyond the mission. But it’s different now. Since marrying you, I keep thinking of… things I’d given up on before. It’s just… complicated.”

Your heart ached with the longing you’d tried so hard to suppress. “I know it is,” you replied, fingers clutching his hand a little tighter. “We’re not exactly a picture-perfect family. But I see the way you are with the boys, the way you protect them, how you’re there for them in every way you can be. You’re a good father, Bruce. And I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have that with you—to build something real together.”

He looked away briefly, his gaze darkening, his jaw tightening in thought. “I worry… what that means for us, for the boys, for everything. This marriage—it started out as a convenience, a front. And I don’t want to complicate things more than they already are.” His voice was almost pained, a weight in every syllable. “But… if we had a child, if we took that step—it would change everything. And I have to consider… the risks that come with that.”

You felt a thrill of excitement mingled with a pang of fear, both feelings clashing within you. “Maybe change is exactly what we need,” you said, your voice gentle but sure. “I’d never want you to feel trapped or forced into anything, Bruce. I just thought…” You paused, a blush heating your cheeks. “I just thought that maybe, there was a way for us to make this real, to make it work.”

His gaze lingered on you, searching, as if weighing his own feelings, his fears. “You really want this?” he murmured, his voice husky, a bare whisper that made your heart flutter.

You nodded, feeling the intensity of your own need to finally say it out loud. “More than anything,” you confessed, the words tumbling out, almost desperate in their honesty. “I want that with you. I want to build something, something that’s truly ours. Not part of a mission. Not for the sake of appearances… but because I love you.”

He looked at you then, and you saw something in his eyes soften, his own defenses melting as he held your gaze.

For a moment, the man you saw wasn’t Batman or the elusive billionaire, but someone who was deeply, painfully human, someone who loved fiercely but carried the weight of the world.

“I’ll have to think about it more,” he finally said, his words almost apologetic, but not without warmth.

Your heart sank a little, but you understood.

Of course he wasn’t going to say he loved you. Instead, he clenched his jaw, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. He was restraining himself, caught in some inner struggle—or maybe he was just angry. Angry at you, at what you’d said.

Guilt washed over you, but you understood. Yes, you understood. His life, his choices—they were unlike anyone else’s, and you couldn’t blame him for thinking twice.

“I know, Bruce,” you said softly, guilt threading through your voice. “I didn’t mean to bring it up now, of all times. You’ve got enough on your mind. I just wanted to know… just to see if maybe…”

He didn’t respond right away, his silence heavy with unspoken words.

You turned your gaze out the window, watching the city streets pass by as the car glided closer to the hotel where the gala awaited.

The flickering lights of Gotham washed over the sleek streets, gilding the world outside in a golden glow, the perfect contrast to the raw ache in your heart.

Bruce’s hand never left yours. He gave a small squeeze, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes, as if to say, I know. 

The warmth of his touch felt like a quiet promise, reassuring even in the silence.

You found a moment of solace at the bar, the cold glass of water refreshing against your lips amid the gala's chaos.

As you took a sip, your gaze wandered around the room, taking in the crowd mingling and laughing, their voices blending into a dull hum that felt both comforting and overwhelming. Bruce was deep in conversation with the Wayne Enterprises board, his brow furrowed in concentration, clearly weighing matters far more serious than the evening's festivities.

You tried to shift your weight to ease the ache in your ankles from the high heels, but the discomfort only deepened as the evening wore on. Just as you were about to take a moment to breathe and steady your nerves, a man approached you—confident, charming, and entirely too close for comfort.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, leaning casually against the bar, a grin spreading across his face. His eyes roamed over you, assessing and appreciative, and you felt a knot of discomfort tighten in your stomach.

“Actually, I—” you began, but he cut you off, undeterred.

“Oh, come on. You look like you could use some company,” he said, flashing a flirtatious smile that only made you feel more uneasy. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing all alone?”

You forced a polite smile, trying to convey your disinterest without sounding rude. “I’m not alone; I’m here with my husband,” you replied, fidgeting with your diamond ring—Bruce’s mother’s signet—its intricate design sparkling under the dim lights. The ring felt like a reminder of your bond, a talisman against the unwelcome advances of strangers.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. “Surely he wouldn’t mind you having a little fun. It’s a party, after all.”

A small flush crept up your neck at his suggestion, and your smile faltered. “I really don’t think so. He’d prefer I keep to myself,” you said firmly, hoping to end the conversation.

Just then, you caught sight of Bruce looking your way, a flicker of concern in his eyes as he scanned the crowd. Your heart swelled with gratitude at the sight of him, a silent reminder of why you were here.

The man followed your gaze and smirked. “Seems your knight in shining armor is watching. How sweet.”

“Actually, it’s called being a good husband,” you replied, your tone sharper than intended. You felt a rush of protectiveness over Bruce and your relationship, wanting to assert that bond against this unwanted attention. The man leaned in closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “I’ve seen you with him. You deserve a little fun tonight. I bet he doesn’t appreciate you like he should.”

Your heart raced uncomfortably. “No, really. I’m happy,” you insisted, attempting to keep your tone light. But the way he watched you felt invasive, and you were suddenly aware of how your ring gleamed—a reminder of your commitment amid the tension in the air.

“Let’s have a drink together. What’s the harm in a little fun?” he pressed, inching closer, his flirtation becoming bolder. You laughed at his joke, but it felt forced, a smile painted on your lips while your stomach twisted in knots.

Across the room, you could feel Bruce’s presence. When your eyes met, you saw the tension in his posture, his jaw clenching. The flicker of jealousy in his gaze sent a rush of warmth through you, reminding you of the complex emotions swirling around you.

Just as the man leaned in, brushing against your shoulder, Bruce appeared at your side, his voice smooth but edged with something darker. “I think she’s fine,” he said, making it clear he wasn't in the mood for debate.

You turned to Bruce, relief washing over you at his intervention. He positioned himself between you and the man, his body radiating authority and unyielding strength. “What do you want?” he asked, his tone leaving little room for interpretation.

The man straightened, clearly caught off guard. “Just having a conversation with this lovely lady,” he replied, struggling to maintain his composure, but you could see the flicker of fear in his eyes.

Bruce leaned in slightly, his voice low and serious, a chill settling in the air. “You’re talking to my wife. I’d recommend you keep your distance.”

The man hesitated, the bravado fading as he glanced nervously between you and Bruce. "Should I repeat myself?" His voice quivered, and you caught a hint of the intimidating Batman lurking beneath Bruce’s polished exterior.

“Of course not, Bruce,” the man stammered, gulping as he fumbled with his suit.

“It’s Mr. Wayne to you,” Bruce replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the intruder. “Your name?”

“Uh—sorry?” the man said, clearly flustered.

“Your name.”

“Jack Laurent, sir.”

Bruce hummed, his dark stare analyzing him as if he could pierce through to the man’s very soul.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jack retreated into the crowd, a forced smile plastered on his face. As the tension dissipated with his departure, Bruce turned to you, his expression softening but still protective. “You okay?” he asked, concern threading through his voice.

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and something deeper at his instinct to shield you. “Yeah, just trying to find a moment to breathe,” you admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "But I think you scared him off." You laughed lightly, trying to ease the lingering tension.

Bruce stepped closer, his presence wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. He grasped your bare shoulders delicately, as if you were made of porcelain. “I don’t care about him or anyone here,” he said, pulling you closer and searching your eyes with an intensity that made your heart race. “I just need you to be alright.”

You let out a breath, feeling the weight of his words. “I know,” you replied softly, slowly bringing your hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact, savoring the warmth, and your heart swelled with appreciation. “It’s just...sometimes it’s hard to remember that in a place like this.”

Bruce nodded, his gaze steady and reassuring. “You belong here just as much as anyone else. And don’t forget, I’m always just a few steps away.”

The tension in the air slowly melted away, and the chaotic buzz of the gala faded into the background. The music shifted to a slow, melodic tune, wrapping around you like an embrace, inviting intimacy amidst the sea of glamour.

“So, Mrs. Wayne, would you like to dance?” he asked, his voice low and inviting, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

You nodded, your heart racing at the prospect. “Of course, Mr. Wayne.” You smiled, feeling a warmth blossom within you as he extended his hand, palm up, inviting you closer.

When you placed your hand in his, a spark ignited within you, sending a thrill coursing through your veins. He led you to the center of the ballroom, where couples swayed, lost in their own worlds, oblivious to everything but each other.

In the heart of the dance floor, Bruce pulled you close, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back, guiding you against him. The warmth radiating from his body was intoxicating, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart, syncing with the rhythm of the music.

As you began to sway together, his fingers lightly brushed the curve of your waist, igniting a trail of warmth in their wake. Leaning in, you could feel his breath against your ear as he whispered, “You look stunning tonight.”

The compliment sent a delightful shiver down your spine, and you met his gaze, searching for the sincerity in those deep eyes. “I know, you already told me,” you teased, a playful smirk creeping onto your lips.

He chuckled softly, the sound resonating deep within you, revealing a smoldering intensity that stirred something primal and aching inside. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see you smile,” he replied, his voice low, laced with a hint of mischief.

“But, thank you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as he guided your movements across the dance floor. In that moment, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the palpable chemistry crackling in the air.

With each step, his touch grew bolder, fingers grazing your skin just a bit longer than necessary. It was electric, a tantalizing connection that made your heart race. The tension between you thickened, almost tangible.

As the song swelled, he pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together, and you felt the comforting heat radiating from him. His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking gently across your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your breath hitch, your pulse quickening in response to his nearness.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his lips nearly brushing your forehead, sending a shiver of excitement through you. The protective warmth of his embrace enveloped you, making you feel safe yet utterly exposed.

“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s more than okay.”

The music wrapped around you like a warm, irresistible tide, drowning out everything else. In that moment, it was just you, Bruce, and the rhythm. His presence was a force, drawing you in, and his gaze—filled with longing, affection, and something deeper—held you captive.

You broke away from his intense stare, suddenly aware of the warmth spreading through you, and cleared your throat. “Bruce, I… I wanted to apologize. If I made you uncomfortable in the car earlier, that wasn’t—”

But he cut you off, his voice calm yet unyielding. “You didn’t.”

Surprised, you looked up, your brows furrowing. “What?”

He clenched his jaw, the words seemingly heavy, as if pulling them from some hidden place within. “I’m not great with words. But… I love you too. And I want more than anything to build a life with you. Children, a family… all of it.”

Your breath caught, and you felt your body still in his arms. “You… you do?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

In response, he placed his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. He leaned in close, his lips grazing your ear. “You’re everything I never knew I needed,” he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, unguarded honesty that sent warmth flooding through you, leaving you feeling both safe and seen.

As the song slowed to its final notes, he pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist. His mouth lifted in a rare, tender smile as he whispered, “Let’s go home.”

Stepping through the grand entrance of Wayne Manor, the lively echoes of the gala faded away, replaced by the soft, ambient hum of the house settling into the quiet of the night.

It had been a long evening, filled with mingling and the subtle games of socializing with Gotham’s elite.

The air between you and Bruce buzzed with unspoken tension. His hand rested possessively on the small of your back, guiding you up the elegant staircase. Each step was a silent promise, building the anticipation and drawing you both toward the inevitable culmination of the night’s charged atmosphere.

When you finally reached your bedroom door, he paused, turning to face you. The moment hung in the air, electric and charged, as he searched your eyes for something—an answer, perhaps. The world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of you suspended in this intimate space, heartbeats synchronized in the dim light.

Before you could catch your breath, he pushed the door closed behind you, the soft click resonating like a heartbeat in the silence of the room. He stepped closer, invading your space with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. The flickering candlelight danced across his features, illuminating the sharp lines of his jaw and the depths of his darkened gaze, making you feel both exhilarated and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was low, almost a growl, thick with desire and restraint.

The question hung heavy in the air, sending a shiver racing down your spine. It was raw, honest—an invitation that ignited something deep within you.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely escaping your lips as the weight of his gaze enveloped you. The rest of the world blurred away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in this cocoon of intimacy.

In an instant, he closed the distance between you, pressing your back against the cool wooden door. The warmth of his body radiated against you, and you felt his breath ghosting over your skin, igniting every nerve ending in a fiery dance of longing.

He leaned in, capturing your lips with his, and the kiss ignited like a wildfire—fierce, consuming, and utterly intoxicating.

His lips were warm and insistent against yours, each press sending surges of electricity coursing through your body.

You melted into him, hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders, anchoring yourself as he deepened the kiss. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was this moment, the exquisite collision of your mouths.

Bruce’s hands tangled in your hair, tilting your head back slightly to deepen the kiss, a gentle possessiveness that made your heart race. Tongues danced, exploring and intertwining as if they were fighting for dominance, enveloping each other in a sweet battle that fueled the fire of desire.

The sensation sent shockwaves coursing through you, awakening a hunger you hadn’t fully realized was there. You responded in kind, kissing him back with equal fervor, your lips moving in a rhythm that felt both familiar and entirely new.

The weight of his body pressed against you, grounding you while his kiss transported you to a realm of dizzying exhilaration.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, a potent energy that fueled the fire building within you. The kiss grew more passionate, a fusion of longing and urgency, as if you were both trying to reclaim something that had long been held back.

Every touch, every movement, felt like the unveiling of secrets long buried, a revelation of what had been simmering beneath the surface.

When he finally pulled back, both of you gasping for air, his eyes dark and stormy, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed, his voice rough, laden with unfiltered emotion.

The vulnerability in his admission sent a thrill through you, a delicious mingling of excitement and certainty that surged through your veins.

“Me too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible yet brimming with honesty. The weight of those words hung between you, binding you together in a shared moment of understanding that transcended the chaos of the outside world.

Bruce stepped back slightly, just enough to trace a finger along your jawline, the touch featherlight yet electrifying. “I never wanted to rush you. I just needed to make sure you felt safe… wanted,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering, filled with a sincerity that made your heart swell. Each word was a testament to his care, each glance a reminder of the bond you shared.

“Being here with you feels safe,” you admitted, leaning into his touch, craving more of that intimate connection. “It feels right.”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, transforming his fierce demeanor into something tender.

He leaned in again, this time pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a promise wrapped in affection that made your heart flutter. “Then let’s make this moment last,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, igniting a yearning that simmered just beneath the surface.

His lips were back on yours in an instant, and you surrendered to the moment, letting the world around you fade away once more. The warmth of his body enveloped you, drawing you into a cocoon of desire and urgency, each kiss igniting flames of longing that spread through you like wildfire.

With a gentle yet deliberate touch, he slowly unzipped your dress, the fabric slipping away to pool at your feet, leaving you clad only in your strappy heels.

The cool air brushed against your skin, causing your nipples to harden in response, the sensation electric and thrilling.

You felt exposed yet liberated, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

His gaze darkened as he drank you in like a man starved, his fingers trailing down your abdomen, teasingly exploring the curves that he found so captivating.

As his hand glided over your hips, he softly brushed against your nipple, sending a shockwave of sensation through you.

The unexpected contact made you gasp, your head tilting back instinctively, exposing your neck and inviting him closer.

His breath hitched at your submission, the hunger in his eyes intensifying as he inched even closer, the warmth of his body radiating against your skin.

You could feel the tension crackle in the air between you, thick and intoxicating, enveloping you both in a heady mix of desire and vulnerability.

He cupped your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple, eliciting a shiver that danced down your spine.

You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as desire ignited within you, flaring to life like a match struck in the darkness.

The sound seemed to spur him on, a silent encouragement that sent him deeper into this intoxicating exploration.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he leaned in, his lips grazing your neck as he trailed soft, tantalizing kisses along your collarbone. Each kiss sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, and you tilted your head to give him better access, the soft whimpers of pleasure escaping your mouth only fueling his hunger.

The weight of his body pressed against you grounded you in this shared moment while your hearts raced in sync, every pulse resonating with the urgency of your connection.

His lips continued their tantalizing journey, exploring the sensitive skin of your neck as he whispered words that sent shivers through you, igniting a fire deep within.

Each kiss grew bolder, more urgent, as if he were claiming you, marking you as his own.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, a magnetic pull drawing you even closer, making it impossible to resist. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands as you pulled him in, craving more of his touch.

He responded instantly, his hands roaming lower, tracing the curve of your waist before grasping your hips, anchoring you in place as he deepened the kiss.

The taste of him was intoxicating—warm and addictive, leaving you breathless, desperate for more.

With a sudden, bold movement, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he pressed you against the wall, the cool surface contrasting with the heat radiating between you.

You could feel his heart racing, matching the tempo of your own. Every brush of his skin against yours sent electric jolts of pleasure coursing through you, and you gasped, caught in the whirlwind of desire and longing.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending waves of anticipation crashing over you.

The world outside your little bubble faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of you enveloped in this heated moment.

You locked eyes, the intensity of the moment palpable, and with a breathless whisper, you revealed your deepest desire, surrendering to the passion that had ignited between you.

“Take me,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper but heavy with longing.

The air around you crackled with anticipation as his eyes darkened, a primal hunger evident in his gaze. With a swift, possessive motion, he captured your lips again, the kiss igniting into a fiery dance of tongues and breathless gasps.

His hands roamed eagerly over your bare skin, exploring every inch as he savored the taste of you.

You could feel him growing harder against you, and it only heightened your desire, stirring an insatiable craving that drove you both deeper into the moment.

He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, searching for any hesitation, but all he found was unyielding need reflected back at him.

A smirk curled on his lips, playful yet dangerously seductive. “I want you to feel everything,” he promised, his voice a low rumble that made your pulse quicken.

“Everything,” you echoed, the weight of that word hanging between you, filled with the promise of what was to come. His hands tightened around your waist, and you felt an exhilarating rush of anticipation flood through you.

With each passing second, the tension between you escalated, pushing you both to the brink of surrender.

His hands grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carries you to the bed. You fall back onto the soft sheets, the sensation sending a ripple of pleasure through you. He hovers above you, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you like a warm embrace, and you can’t help but arch against him, craving his touch.

“Just like this,” he murmurs, leaning down to trail kisses across your collarbone, his warm breath fanning against your skin. He pauses, lingering at your breast, his mouth closing over your nipple, sucking gently as you gasp and writhe beneath him. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, unraveling you further.

“More,” you plead, your voice thick with desire, and he responds instantly, shifting lower, his kisses trailing down your abdomen, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

You can feel every nerve ending awaken, every touch igniting a longing deep within you as you surrender to the intoxicating sensations washing over you.

He pauses, looking up at you, a devilish grin on his face. “You have no idea what you’re in for,” he teases, before continuing his descent, ready to explore the depths of your desire.

The air around you crackles with tension, your heart racing as anticipation coils tightly in your stomach, a mixture of excitement and raw yearning.

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and heat, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna put a baby inside of you,” he growls, the primal intensity of his voice igniting a fierce longing deep within you.

The sheer audacity of his claim leaves you breathless, every part of you alive with the possibilities of what’s to come.

You can hardly process the weight of his statement, the idea swirling in your mind, feeding the fire of your desire.

The thought alone sends a surge of warmth through you, making your cheeks flush as the heat between you builds, wild and untamed.

Your heart races, a blend of exhilaration and raw anticipation thrumming through your veins. His words are bold, stirring something deep inside you, a desire so potent it’s almost overwhelming.

“Do you want that?” he murmurs, his eyes locking onto yours, piercing through the haze of your desire to reach the vulnerable truth beneath. His question feels like an invitation, a daring challenge, as his thumb brushes over your cheek, grounding you in the moment. The tenderness in his voice only intensifies the intimacy, and for a heartbeat, you feel a depth that goes beyond passion—a need that borders on devotion.

“Yes,” you answer, barely more than a breath, but thick with longing. The simple word hangs in the air like a spark, lighting a fuse neither of you can ignore.

A slow, almost triumphant smile curves at his lips as he leans in, capturing your mouth with a kiss that’s searing, consuming. His hands slide to your hips, his grip firm, possessive, sending a thrill down your spine as he presses you closer.

“Then let’s make it unforgettable,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and low, each word vibrating through you as he begins to move, each movement slow, intentional, every thrust deep and consuming.

He takes his time, savoring every reaction, every shiver, every gasp that slips from your lips as he drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

In a playful moment, you pause him, a spark in your eyes as you lean in to trace your lips over the faint scars that line his chest, each one a silent testament to battles fought and endured. Your kisses are warm, gentle, and when you murmur, “You’re so beautiful,” the words come from a place of pure sincerity.

You can feel his breath hitch as your lips trace his skin, the depth of his groan telling you he feels it too, letting you both linger in this exquisite, vulnerable intimacy.

His breath hitches, caught off guard by your tenderness amidst the raw intensity of the moment.

You let your hands roam over his defined torso, tracing the contours and dips, savoring the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. The warmth radiating from him envelops you, fueling your desire.

With a bold move, you grasp the waistband of his briefs, teasingly tugging them down.

His length springs free, a glorious sight that takes your breath away. You bite your lip, heat pooling in your core as you admire the raw masculinity before you. He’s impressively big, thick and hard, with veins running along his length—a striking reminder of just how much he wants you.

He watches you with hooded eyes, a mix of confidence and need in his gaze.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach out, wrapping your fingers around him, feeling the heat and strength beneath your touch.

His jaw tightens, a low, breathy groan escaping as he watches you, eyes dark with desire.

Slowly, you begin to move, each stroke slow and deliberate, savoring the connection, letting the intensity build between you with every deliberate touch.

Then, with a teasing smile, you lean forward, your soft lips hovering just above him. The anticipation hangs thick in the air, charged with desire as you take a moment to savor the view. He’s so big and long, and the sight of him sends a thrill of excitement through you.

With a playful flick of your tongue, you tease the tip, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him. The sensation sends shivers coursing through your body, igniting your own hunger. You wrap your lips around him, taking him in slowly, your mouth fitting him perfectly as you begin to move.

He groans, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through you, urging you to continue. The warmth of your mouth envelops him, each movement eliciting a wave of pleasure that sends him spiraling deeper into the moment.

You feel his hands thread through your hair, guiding you as you take him further in, savoring the taste and the way he feels against your tongue.

You lock eyes with him, the heat of the moment intensifying as you push yourself to take him even deeper, your lips gliding over his length in a rhythm that builds both your desires.

He watches you with a mix of awe and lust, every thrust of your mouth sending him closer to the edge.

“Just like that,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

You take him deeper, unyielding, letting the sensation of him fill you completely. You don’t care if you gag; the thrill of taking him entirely fuels your desire, and you want him to see just how far you’re willing to go for him.

His eyes widen as he watches you, the lust in them igniting a fire within you that makes you crave him even more.

As you push your limits, you feel him tense beneath you, the undeniable signs of his release building.

“I’m close,” he warns, his voice a low growl, but you only increase your efforts, sucking harder, your mouth gliding over him in a frenzy of pleasure.

Your other hand sneaks down, slipping beneath the waistband of your wet panties, your fingers finding your slick heat. You touch yourself, the combination of sensations sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you.

His breaths quicken, the sight of you pleasuring yourself while taking him deeper pushing him to the brink.

“Yes,” he gasps, and with one final thrust of his hips, he explodes, warmth flooding your mouth and throat.

You swallow instinctively, looking up at him through lust-filled eyes, and you can feel the overwhelming rush as more of him spills forth, dribbling from your lips.

You keep your eyes locked on his, the connection electrifying as you revel in the moment. There’s so much cum that it spills over, dripping from your mouth, a visual testament to the intensity of your shared pleasure. You can see the mixture of awe and satisfaction in his gaze, and it only heightens the fire within you.

With a satisfied smirk, you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, savoring the lingering taste of him and the thrill of the moment. But before you can utter a word, he grips your elbows, effortlessly pushing you back onto the mattress. His lips find yours again, this time with a roughness that sends a jolt of electricity through you. It’s primal, a clash of teeth and tongues, raw and unfiltered, leaving your lips bruised but you find you don’t care. There’s something intoxicating about his urgency, something that awakens a wildness in you.

He pulls back, his gaze piercing as you gasp for air, your heart racing. “Do you want a baby?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his fingers trailing across your stomach with a rough tenderness that sends a shiver through you. Heat floods your cheeks, and you avert your eyes, unable to meet his gaze. But he gently cups your face, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me,” he urges, his intensity igniting something deep within you.

After a moment of contemplation, you whisper, “Yes.” The word hangs in the air, heavy with possibility and charged with electricity. Without hesitation, he quickly pulls your panties down, the suddenness of his action catching you off guard and leaving you breathless.

As his fingers glide through your folds, a moan escapes your lips, and you arch your back instinctively. “Bruce,” you gasp, reaching up to cradle his cheek, your fingers tangling in his hair. The way he teases you makes it hard to think clearly.

“Bruce, I—” Another moan escapes you as he applies pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves, making it impossible to finish your sentence. “I’ve never done this before,” you finally admit, your voice trembling.

He pauses at your words, concern flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry if you’re not ready—”

But you cut him off, urgency flooding your voice. “No—I want this more than anything.”

He softens, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before trailing down with warm kisses and the teasing flick of his tongue, exploring the valley between your breasts and moving down to your stomach.

Before he enters you, he shifts his position, lifting your legs and resting them on his shoulders.

The new angle sends a thrilling rush through you, completely exposing you and making you feel both vulnerable and electrified. You meet his gaze, a mix of hunger and desire burning in his eyes as he prepares to take you in every sense.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, and you feel the heat radiating from his body, drawing you in closer.

He lowers himself, pressing a soft kiss just above your thigh, teasingly inching his way toward your core. The anticipation is nearly unbearable as he inhales deeply, savoring your scent, and you can feel your body responding instinctively to his presence.

“Please,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need as you arch your back, trying to pull him closer. The heat within you builds, desperate for his touch. “I need you...”

With a wicked grin, he finally gives in, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like a decadent dessert. The sound of him savoring you vibrates through your core, eliciting a loud moan from your lips that surprises even you.

He licks with the fervor of a man starved, drawing on your most sensitive spots with a precision that drives you wild. Each flick of his tongue sends you spiraling deeper into ecstasy, your body instinctively arching and grinding against his mouth, hungry for more. He grips your thighs firmly, anchoring you in place as he devours you with an insatiable hunger, as if it’s the first time he’s ever tasted something so exquisite.

“God, you taste incredible,” he growls against you, his voice muffled yet filled with raw desire.

The heat within you rises, your fingers tangling more tightly in his hair, pulling him closer as you push him deeper into your core. He responds eagerly, teasing your entrance with his tongue, and you cry out in pleasure, coiling tighter with every movement he makes. The world around you fades, leaving only the intoxicating sensations of his mouth and the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

Your breathing quickens, each gasp mingling with soft cries as you surrender completely to the waves of ecstasy washing over you. The tension builds within you, the edge of release drawing nearer with every flick and swirl of his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you plead, your voice thick with need as your body thrums with anticipation, ready to shatter into a million pieces under his touch.

He watches you with hungry eyes as he slips one finger inside you, filling you in a way that sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. You gasp at the sensation, instinctively grasping his wrist, your back arching as your hips grind against his hand.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. He begins to work his finger deeper, curling it to find that sweet spot within you. The pressure builds, and the pleasure intensifies with each thrust.

Just when you think it can't get any better, he adds another finger, stretching you further. Your breath catches in your throat, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. “You’re so tight,” he growls, his eyes dark with desire, and you can’t help but moan in response, guiding his hand deeper, craving more.

With a deliberate rhythm, he begins to thrust his fingers in and out, finding a pace that makes your body sing. Each stroke pushes you closer to the edge, heat pooling low in your belly as you bite your lip, trying to hold back the cries threatening to spill forth.

“Please,” you whimper, desperate for more, and he responds instantly, slipping in a third finger, filling you to the brim. The combination of his mouth on your sensitive skin and his fingers working you expertly is almost too much to bear.

“Let go, baby,” he urges, his voice deep and smooth as he continues to curl his fingers just right, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You can feel yourself teetering on the brink, the tension winding tighter until you feel like you might burst.

With every thrust of his fingers, you get closer and closer, the room spinning as you lose yourself in the moment. “I’m so close,” you gasp, your body trembling under his expert touch.

“Good,” he growls, his fingers quickening, pushing you over the edge with a final, delicious thrust. You shatter, a moan escaping your lips as pleasure explodes through you, sending you spiraling into blissful release.

“That's it, let it all out,” he murmurs, satisfaction evident in his voice as he watches you ride the waves of ecstasy, your body writhing beneath him.

As you come down from your high, he pulls back, his fingers slick and glistening as he wipes them on your thigh, a smug smile playing on his lips. The hunger in his eyes tells you that this is just the beginning of what’s to come.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied grin. The sight of him savoring you sends a rush of heat through you, reigniting the desire that simmers just beneath the surface.

Then, with a deliberate motion, he takes a pillow and slides it under your hips, angling your body just right. Anticipation builds within you as he positions himself, the tip of his length teasingly pressing against you. You catch your breath, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through you.

“It’s gonna hurt at first,” he says softly, his gaze locking onto yours. You nod, breathing heavily, and he takes one of your hands in his, the warmth of his skin grounding you. “You tell me if you want to stop.” You respond by leaning in and kissing him deeply, reassuring him of your desire to continue.

With that connection, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you in a way that makes you gasp. It’s hard and intense, and he’s not even halfway in yet. Every inch of him fills you, the sensation of his size and the texture of his veins overwhelming as he sinks deeper. “You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Taking both of your hands, he pins them above your head, his grip firm yet tender as he leans down to kiss you. The kiss ignites a fire within you, and you lose yourself in the taste of him. As he continues to push into you, a mix of pain and pleasure washes over you. You know your body needs to adjust, but the feeling of him filling you is intoxicating.

“Just breathe, it’s okay,” he whispers against your lips, and you nod, focusing on his soothing voice as he finally buries himself completely within you. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel so full, and he pauses for a moment, allowing you to acclimate to his size.

As he kisses down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin, the pain begins to fade, replaced by an overwhelming wave of pleasure that courses through you. His movements are slow and deliberate, drawing out the sensations as he starts to move, each thrust igniting sparks of ecstasy within you.

The rhythm builds, and you can’t help but let out an echoing moan, the sound reverberating in the expansive room. “That’s it, let me hear you,” he encourages, his voice a low growl as he picks up the pace, the rhythm of flesh against flesh echoing around you.

You arch your back, surrendering completely to the pleasure, the initial discomfort forgotten as you lose yourself in the sensations he’s creating. It’s almost overwhelming; each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, your body responding instinctively, craving more, needing more.

At first, his movements are slow and tender, each thrust deliberate as he savors the connection between you. He watches your face closely, absorbing every expression and sigh that escapes your lips. The intimacy of the moment feels almost sacred, wrapped in the warmth of his body.

But as the rhythm continues, the tension builds. You feel heat rising between you, a pressure that intensifies with each gentle thrust. The sweet pleasure begins to intertwine with a growing need for something more. You grip the sheets beneath you, your body tightening around him, silently urging him to go deeper, to give you more.

And just like that, he shifts gears.

The slow, romantic pace is replaced with something far more primal—animalistic even. He thrusts harder, deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. The headboard bangs against the wall, the intensity echoing your rising desire.

Your breath hitches as each thrust sends jolts of pleasure mixed with a delicious edge of pain coursing through you. You can feel the raw power in his movements, the way he claims you completely. Each time he fills you, it’s overwhelming, and you gasp and moan, lost in the storm of sensation.

“Just like that,” he growls, his voice low and rough as he drives into you with urgency, his grip on your wrists tightening. One of his hands glides to your chest, grasping one of your breasts and squeezing, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. It’s too much, yet not enough, and you can feel his heart racing, matching your own as he loses himself in the moment.

Your body instinctively arches to meet him, craving every thrust. The sensations blur the lines between pleasure and pain, leaving you caught in their throes, every cry and moan spilling from your lips unbidden.

“God, you feel so good,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks into you with increasing ferocity. You feel heat pooling deep within, the familiar pressure building as he takes you higher and higher.

With each thrust, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment of raw, uninhibited passion. The tension between you is palpable, igniting a fire that consumes you both. You know you’re on the brink of something incredible.

“Don’t stop,” you beg, your voice a breathless whisper, urging him on. He responds with a primal growl, picking up the pace even more, pushing you further into ecstasy.

You touch your chest absently, lost in the sensations swirling around you. He leans down, taking one of your nipples between his teeth, and a sharp gasp escapes your lips. The pleasure is overwhelming, and with each thrust, the connection deepens, sending shockwaves through your body.

“God, it’s too much,” you cry out, your voice echoing in the room. You try to meet him with each thrust, but it’s a struggle; the intensity is more than you ever imagined. As you scratch his back, your nails digging in, he can only moan in response, reveling in your reactions.

Your legs open wider than you thought possible, driven by an insatiable desire for him to penetrate you deeper. “I want you so deep,” you whimper, your voice thick with need.

With every powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of bliss, the waves of pleasure crashing over you until you can’t hold back any longer. You explode, a scream of ecstasy bursting from your lips as your body quakes with release.

But he doesn’t relent. He continues his relentless pace, pounding into you with an urgency that keeps you riding the high, your body still trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm. Each thrust pushes you higher, your senses overwhelmed as pleasure pulses through your veins.

It’s only when your cries start to quiet, the peaks of your pleasure beginning to ebb, that he finally lets himself go. With a primal roar, he drives into you one last time, filling you to the brim, a wave of warmth spilling inside you.

You can feel him shudder as he reaches his own climax, the raw intensity of the moment binding you together in a whirlwind of heat and desire. He collapses against you, breathless and spent, and you can only hold onto him, the remnants of pleasure coursing through you as you both come down from the high.

In the stillness that follows, the echoes of your passion linger in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

But he isn’t finished. Not yet.

With a sudden, powerful movement, he turns you over, bending you back with an arch that leaves you vulnerable and exposed to him entirely.

You gasp as he re-enters you, the sensitivity from your last wave of pleasure sending fresh sparks through your body. Each thrust is a mix of pleasure and delicious discomfort, igniting a new fire within you.

“So tight, so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with hunger as he fills you once more. The initial sting quickly gives way to overwhelming pleasure, and you can’t help but surrender to the sensation. It’s as if he knows just how to push you, how to drive you wild.

As he thrusts deeper, you feel every inch of him, stretching you perfectly, igniting every nerve ending. The angle sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan, but it escapes anyway—a breathy sound of pure desire.

“Take it,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly, anchoring you as he begins to pound into you with renewed vigor. Each thrust sends you spiraling, and the world outside fades away once more, leaving just the two of you in this heated moment.

“Please, yes,” you manage to gasp, pushing back against him, urging him to go harder, to claim you completely. The sensation is a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and you can feel the heat pooling deep within you once again.

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, whispering words that send shivers down your spine. “You love it, don’t you? You love being filled with me.”

You can only nod, too lost in the pleasure to form coherent words.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, each thrust echoing your shared desire. You feel yourself teetering on the edge again, your body responding instinctively to his every movement.

As he continues to drive into you, the rhythm builds, becoming more frantic, more desperate.

You can feel your body tightening, your high building once again, and it’s almost too much to handle. “I’m so close,” you breathe, the words barely escaping your lips.

“Come for me,” he commands, and with that, you let go completely. The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, pulling him in with you as you both reach your climax together.

As the tidal wave of pleasure crashes over you, your body convulses around him, tightening involuntarily as the waves of ecstasy pulse through every fiber of your being.

Your scream of bliss fills the room, echoing against the walls as you surrender completely to the intensity of the moment.

He growls deep in his throat, the sound primal and raw, matching your high with his own. You feel him surge deeper, his movements becoming more erratic as he loses himself in the pleasure of your shared release.

The heat between you is intoxicating, a swirling mix of desperation and fulfillment that binds you together in that sacred space.

With each thrust, he drives you further into the depths of your pleasure, his own release mingling with yours. You can feel him spill inside you, a warmth that fills you completely, pushing you over the edge once more—a final wave of bliss washing through you, leaving you gasping and trembling.

“God, yes,” he breathes, collapsing onto you, his weight pressing you into the sheets as he takes a moment to catch his breath. The room is thick with the lingering scent of sweat and passion, the echoes of your shared climax hanging in the air.

You feel spent but exhilarated, every inch of your body humming with a delicious afterglow. He gently pulls out, and you can’t help but shiver at the loss, the sensation sending a soft gasp from your lips.

He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low and husky, tinged with concern, as he brushes a damp strand of hair from your face.

“More than okay,” you reply, a breathless laugh escaping you as you meet his gaze, your heart racing from the intensity of it all.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

With that, he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that ignites the embers of desire once more. You can feel the heat building between you again, a spark that promises the night is far from over.

As his hands wander across your body, exploring every curve and contour, you realize that this moment, this connection, is something you never want to end.

With a renewed surge of desire coursing through you, you shift your position, straddling him as you sit up. Your body instinctively responds to the heat radiating from him, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as he watches you, his expression a mix of admiration and raw hunger.

Slowly, you begin to ride him, your chest rising and falling with each movement, breaths mingling in the heated air. You sink down, feeling him fill you completely again, a soft moan escaping your lips as you adjust to the familiar stretch.

“Just like that,” he encourages, his hands gripping your waist, guiding your movements as you find your rhythm. You lift your hips, then push down, the sensations electrifying as you take control, the intensity of the moment building with each thrust.

His eyes are locked onto yours, filled with a primal need that sends shivers down your spine. “You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “I could watch you all night.”

You smile at his words, feeling empowered as you pick up the pace, your body moving fluidly above him. The pleasure intensifies, and you can feel the tension coiling within you once more, ready to unravel.

As you ride him, your hands find his chest, fingers trailing over the defined muscles, tracing the scars that tell stories of battles fought. You lean down, pressing your lips against his, the kiss igniting a fire between you that fuels your movements.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a rhythmic melody that matches the beat of your hearts. You feel the familiar tightness in your core, the sensation building as you grind against him, taking him deeper and deeper, lost in the ecstasy of it all.

“Just like that, baby,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs, urging you on as he meets your movements with his own thrusts.

The two of you are perfectly in sync, the connection palpable, electric even.

You feel the heat pooling within you again, a delicious pressure that teeters on the edge of release.

Every motion sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can’t help but cry out as you lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the bliss that envelops you both.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp, the words escaping your lips like a desperate plea, and he responds with a growl, driving up into you with renewed vigor.

With each downward motion, your breaths come faster, a delicious mix of pleasure and desperation driving you both closer to the edge.

You know you’re close, the world around you fading as you focus solely on the moment, on him.

He brings two fingers to your clit, playing with it, and you scream, throwing your head back and exposing your neck, your chest rising and falling in rhythm with each thrust.

“I’m almost there, Bruce,” you gasp, feeling the heat pooling deep within you, ready to explode.

“Me too,” he growls, his eyes darkening with desire.

With one final, powerful thrust, you both let go, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, pulling you both into the depths of ecstasy.

As you watch where you’re connected, your heat enveloping his length, absorbing it, tightening around it, a rush of exhilaration courses through you.

The sight is primal and intoxicating, fueling your desire as you quicken your pace again, driven by instinct, addicted to the feeling.

Suddenly, he sits up, his arms enveloping your torso, bringing your naked chest against his muscled frame. His hand descends to grip your hips tightly, enough to leave a bruise, but you don’t care; you don’t want this to end.

He pulls you closer as the rhythm becomes almost animalistic—no, more than that; it’s nihilistic.

Both of you are sweating, your bodies glinting under the moonlight. The sound of your bodies meeting fills the air, a wild, desperate symphony that matches the pounding of your hearts.

You lock eyes, a silent understanding passing between you, and then you kiss fiercely, the connection igniting into a fiery exchange. Your lips crash against his with a fervor that leaves you both breathless, teeth clashing as you bite at each other’s lips, tasting the need that crackles in the air around you.

“God, you feel so good,” he growls against your mouth, his breath hot and heavy, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, heightening your senses.

You can’t get enough, and you grind down harder, reveling in the pleasure that builds with every thrust.

His hands roam your body, exploring your curves as he pulls you closer, deepening the connection between you. You can feel every pulse, every inch of him, and it drives you wild.

Leaning back slightly, you allow him to watch as you move, the sight of you taking him in and out, completely lost in the moment.

“More,” you demand, your voice a low whisper, filled with urgency, and he responds with a feral growl, matching your intensity. The room is charged with heat, your bodies entwined in a dance that feels both ancient and raw.

You can feel the world outside fading away; the only thing that matters is the rhythm you’ve created together.

He leans in, kissing down your neck, each bite and kiss igniting sparks of pleasure that shoot through your body.

You can’t hold back any longer.

The pleasure builds higher, tightening like a coil within you. “I’m so close,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, urging him on.

“Let go for me,” he urges, his voice thick with desire, and with a final thrust, you tumble over the edge, your body quaking as pleasure washes over you in waves, pulling him along with you into the depths of ecstasy.

You cry out, a mix of pleasure and relief, as you both surrender to the moment—hearts racing, bodies entwined, lost in the bliss of your connection.

You can feel his warmth inside you, completely full and satisfied, and you revel in the sensation.

For a while, you stay like this—him on top, your bodies intertwined, enjoying the closeness and the aftermath of your shared ecstasy. He kisses your forehead softly, a tender gesture that makes your heart swell.

Slowly, he begins to pull out, and you moan at the loss, the sensation of emptiness causing a bittersweet ache.

Cum drips from your core, a reminder of the intensity you just shared, but before you can fully process it, Bruce slips two fingers back inside you.

You let out a soft moan, surprised yet responsive, your body still humming with pleasure despite the exhaustion settling in. Your eyes feel heavy, droopy with fatigue.

“Just to make sure it stays,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, as he lays down beside you.

You only nod, too spent to protest or question his actions, and finally, you close your eyes, surrendering to the blissful aftermath.

The world around you dissolves into nothingness, leaving only the echo of your shared breaths and the pounding of your hearts, two souls entwined in an exquisite dance of passion and desire.

Each heartbeat feels like a gentle reminder of the intimacy you’ve just experienced, a moment that feels both surreal and grounding.

In this cocoon of warmth and safety, you drift off into a peaceful sleep, fully content and wrapped in the remnants of bliss.

go check [ TU’BURNI (Bruce Wayne fic) ]

Congrats to me for finally posting this draft cause it’s been rotting since forever… Also first time writing and posting smut so please be nice … 😣 I might delete it later lol

don’t hesitate to leave a comment babes xxx

[the-eb]

new "things I noticed in the Walpurgisnacht Rising trailer" post: coherent edition

I'm going with the theory (laid out very well here) that the extra Homuras we keep seeing around are the Clara Dolls, either presenting in a different way or having matured into witches themselves. With that in mind:

These two shots show the same doll, Nekura, judging by both the headband and the wavy tips of the hair that homura doesn't normally have. Her eyes are also red, and she's wearing the black collar with white outlines reminiscent of her Doll form.

This looks to be Ibari, though I'm not 100% sure on that, given the colour of the hair. Probably just the lighting. Her role as Pride also fits with the imagery of her scrutinising the audience here, likely Homura in context.

Could also potentially be Noroma (Blockhead), though I don't think the visual fits quite as well. She is said to "laugh at the witch with her eyes," though, which would match with what she's doing here.

Though this Homura has her original purple eyes and white collar, the unusual headband and especially the engraving on the mirror ("Stupid Venus") make me quite confident that this is Manuke (Stupid-Looking). The band isn't a 100% match, but this also makes sense given that Manuke is representative of Homura during the time between the main series and Rebellion, matching with what's shown in the mirror. The headband is also tied in the same way as Madoka's ribbon was in her hair, which might explain the lack of resemblance to Manuke's headwear.

Not much to say about this shot, other than that the style and colours of those stairs combined with the familiar pattern around them resembling Oktavia's tail make me think this is a shot from within her labyrinth.

Other than the clear Icarus symbolism, the main thing worth noting about this shot is the streak of red in Homura's hair, extending out from underneath Madoka's ribbon (or its replacement). Probably an extension of the ribbon symbolically too, showing how bound she is to Madoka.

Unless these are Magia Record characters I'm unaware of, I think that the unadorned ring and black fingernail marking lend credence to the idea that these are the magical girls who once became witches in the original series. The only one I really have a guess on is this girl, where the fact that she's watching over a kintsugi glass holding the garden where Homura and Kyoko met in rebellion, the roses on her purse, and the glasses lead me to believe that this is Gertrud, the Rose Garden Witch. Her Adelbert familiars are said to have 2.5 vision.

This book appears to contain images of witches and their familiars. I managed to spot familiars belonging to Charlotte, Elly, possibly Patricia, Gertrud, and Oktavia, as well as Izabel and Elsa Maria themselves, though I'm sure there are more.

There's a single frame flash of Oktavia here!

The symbolism of the teacup next to the pool of blood makes me assume that this is Mami (or Candeloro!), though maybe I'm flanderising her. The rim of the cup and saucer do have a pattern faintly reminiscent of a flower, which reinforces this a little.

Please feel free to respond with alternate readings/other things you've spotted in the trailer! I crave knowledge

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Would you be able to write something for Theodore Nott? Maybe like an enemies to lovers or a best friends to lovers? Either or if possible??

theodore nott x reader where you both are busy flirting arguing

The ballroom was buzzing, chandeliers casting a soft glow over finely dressed wizards and witches chatting away. You sighed, keeping to a quieter corner with a glass of sparkling pumpkin juice in hand, hoping the evening would pass by without a sighting of him.

But of course, fate had other plans.

A familiar, irritating voice sounded close by, smooth as silk but laced with its usual snide tone. "Ah, amore, how lovely to see you hiding out in the corner like a wallflower."

You turned, locking eyes with Theodore Nott, who leaned against the wall beside you, casually swirling a drink in his hand as he looked you up and down, his eyes taking in every detail of your dress and posture. You narrowed your eyes, a smirk forming. "Didn't know a Nott had the capacity for such poetic commentary. What, afraid I might steal the spotlight from you?"

He chuckled, unaffected. "Please, you couldn’t, even if you tried. I’m practically the reason half of these people even showed up. Nott name carries weight, bella."

You scoffed. "Weight? My family’s got more fortune tucked away than yours could dream of." You lifted your chin, every word dripping with sarcasm. “Or maybe you're too busy admiring yourself to notice?”

His smirk only widened. "Darling, self-admiration is justified when you're actually worth admiring. Besides, last I checked, our families were pretty much on par." He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. "But I guess the finer things aren’t as obvious to some."

Your eyebrow arched, feeling a surge of irritation—he never failed to rile you up, and yet you couldn’t help but engage. "And I guess a lifetime of silk sheets and fine dining made you blind to reality. I mean, really, Theo. Not everything can be bought. Some of us have… taste.”

His gaze darkened, clearly amused by your sass. "Taste? Says the girl in a dress that’s probably on its last season. But, don’t worry, cara, I find the outdated look… charming."

“You know, for someone so annoyingly smug, you’re not that observant.” You leaned forward just a bit, voice dropping, challenging him. “Or are you too busy picking out new pet names to realize it?”

Across the room, a few of your friends—Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, and Enzo—watched the exchange with growing amusement.

Mattheo smirked, nudging Pansy. “Looks like Theo met his match. She’s absolutely roasting him.”

“I don’t know, I think I just found my new girlfriend,” Pansy mused, eyes glinting with a playful admiration.

Draco chuckled, nudging Enzo. “Reckon Theo can actually handle her? I’ve never seen him work this hard for someone’s attention.”

Enzo grinned. “Bet he’ll cave first. Look at him, he’s barely holding it together.”

Back in your corner, Theo tilted his head, his gaze growing more intense as the banter wore on, his lips twitching like he was fighting a smile. He leaned closer, voice low, teasing. "You know, bella, for all this hostility, it sounds like you’re paying me a lot of attention. I’d almost think you’re interested."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Interested? Please, Theo, in what world?”

He smirked, trailing his gaze down your face, lingering a moment too long, making your pulse spike. “Oh, trust me. It’s this world.” He paused, dropping his voice to a near whisper, just inches from your face. “In fact, I’d bet on it.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and the tension between you was practically tangible. But before you could snap back, he went on, this time with a more flirtatious edge. “Face it, amore, you can’t resist a little challenge.”

“Oh, I’m not the one who’s stuck to my side all evening. Who’s resisting who, Theo?” You shot back, but this time, your voice wasn’t quite as steady, and you hated that he’d noticed.

He laughed softly, tilting his head as he moved closer, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re right. Maybe it’s time I stop resisting.” His voice dropped, his words practically dripping with charm, laced with a newfound confidence that made your heart race. "I’d even call it fate that our families threw this party. Gave me a chance to… properly see you."

You swallowed, a bit flustered but refusing to back down. “That’s the best you’ve got, Nott?”

“Oh, I’ve got much more. But I don’t want to rush things.” He stepped even closer, his lips quirking in a smirk that was maddeningly irresistible. “Unless, of course, you want me to.”

You huffed, trying to hide the flustered grin threatening to break through, and whispered back, "Keep dreaming, Theo." But the two of you stood there, eyes locked, daring each other to be the one to back down, and for once, you found yourself silently hoping he wouldn't.

Theo’s eyes dropped to your lips, lingering there just a moment too long, his gaze heated and unwavering. He reached up, casually brushing a strand of hair off your shoulder, letting his fingers barely graze your skin, making you shiver. He smirked, clearly noticing, and leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek.

“You’re shivering, amore. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re nervous,” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

You scoffed, though the proximity made it sound less confident than you’d hoped. “In your dreams, Theo. If anyone’s nervous, it’s you.” But your voice caught slightly, betraying the bravado you were trying to maintain.

“Oh, really?” he replied, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he moved impossibly closer, his arm brushing against yours, sending a spark down your spine. “Because from where I’m standing, you look like you’re seconds away from leaning in.”

You raised an eyebrow, refusing to let him see the effect he had on you. “I’m not leaning in. You’re just invading my space. There’s a difference, darling.”

He chuckled, his gaze roving over your face, lingering on your flushed cheeks. “Keep telling yourself that, bella. But we both know the truth.”

Your heart pounded as he reached out, his hand gently tilting your chin up so your eyes locked again, his thumb lightly tracing along your jaw. The gesture was both infuriatingly tender and intoxicatingly bold, and it made you feel like you were holding your breath, waiting for whatever he’d do next.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his lips so close you could practically feel his words ghost against yours, “if you hate me so much, why haven’t you walked away?”

You swallowed, meeting his challenging gaze. “Because I… I haven’t finished putting you in your place.”

He laughed softly, that infuriatingly smooth sound that seemed to slide over you. “In that case, by all means… try, cara. I’m all yours.”

Without thinking, you gripped his collar, pulling him a fraction closer as you whispered with feigned calm, “You are absolutely insufferable.”

“Funny,” he breathed, his hand resting against the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. “Because I’m just getting started.”

The tension hung thick between you, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous and exhilarating, neither of you daring to make the next move yet equally unwilling to pull away. His fingers traced circles against your back, each touch sending another wave of heat through you, and you found yourself barely able to speak.

"You're playing with fire, Nott," you managed, your voice low and almost breathless.

His smirk softened, darkened, as he leaned even closer. "Good. I like the burn."

For a second, you were certain he was going to kiss you. And the worst part? You wanted him to.

[novemberheart]

{overview} It’s time for you to meet your new pack. John and Kyle have an unexpected reaction to your arrival. Your place in the pack may not be as permanent as you think……

{warnings} John is a bit of an a-hole, cursing, female reader, that's about it

Chapter 2 <- Chapter 3 -> Chapter 4

“How do you think Simon’ll feel about this?” Johnny piqued up.

John looked up from his paperwork over to where Johnny was sprawled out on the couch in his office. The Scot had just finished a new charcoal masterpiece that would be hung in their living area.

“To be quite honest I'm not sure how I feel about it.” John sighed, standing up and stretching. His shoulders cracked quietly from being hunched over the oak desk.

“It's a big decision- one that he wasn't a part of.” Johnny reasoned. John nodded his head in agreement. “That’ll make him sour.”

“It might.” John agreed again. “Worst case scenario we could always send her back.”

Johnny was taken aback for a moment. Surprised that John would even suggest such a thing. Then he realized it wasn't John he was talking to, it was his Captain. The man who would do anything for the sake of his team- even at the expense of others. Not that he hadn’t been guilty of that either.

“Guess that's true,” Johnny said quietly.

“Let's go make sure the mother hen has eaten.” John sighed, a soft smile on his face. Johnny followed suit, the image of Kyles's face scrunching at the nickname crossing his mind.

You had never been this nervous in your life. Your knees twitching with an overload of adrenaline.

“Your scent will throw them off.” Kate nearly gagged from next to you.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You shot back. Your hands knotted in your white sweater. “I think I’m going to be sick.” You whined, causing the driver to turn around slightly.

“There’s bags under your seat.” He practically shouted.

“Good to know, thanks.” You began to reach down before Kate stopped you.

“Will you please pull yourself together? You have had a waiting list of Alphas and packs who have wanted you since I’ve known you.” Kate reminded, her hands gripping yours tightly.

“That’s sweet Kate bu”-

“Shush. If this doesn't work out, which it will work out- you give me one phone call and I'll have you out of there before those hardheads figure out what they've lost. Deal.” It was the assurance you needed. You weren't going to be stranded here. You should know better by now that Kate has always had your best interest at heart.

“Thank you.” You breathed. She nodded her head, her senses finally getting a break from eye-watering sour. “There really a waiting list?” You questioned curiously. She glared at you out of the side of her vision but begrudgingly nodded her head.

“Bout five minutes till we get there.” The driver warned. You stopped yourself from stumbling back into a panic episode. Kate was right, if they caught one whiff of you right now, they'd send you back. “Would you be offended if I rolled down a window?” the driver nearly begged.

“No.” You mumbled.

About three of the five minutes away it started to pour.

“That's fitting.” Kate sighed. “Grab your raincoat,” she commanded. You rolled your eyes, already pulling the yellow coat out of your bag.

“Yes, Ma’am.” You snarked, almost waiting for her to jab you with her elbow.

The car finally stopped. Kate's phone ‘tinged’ at that very moment.

“They’re waiting for us inside. Ready?” She asked, her eyes a bit scared like she was worried you were going to back out.

You took a deep breath.

“Ready.”

You and Kate quickly made your way inside a large gray building, your oversized hood proving its worth.

“John, Kyle.” Kate greeted, as both of you wiped your feet on the mat. You took one last look outside, peeling off your hood just in time for the door to shut. The action caused a gust of your scent to hit John and Kyle in the face.

A pleased growl echoed in the Alpha's chest. He raised his hand to his mouth, pressing his thumb and pointer finger against his nose, shocked at his reaction. The Beta on the other hand chose to press his shoulder against the wall to keep himself steady. Your scent reached a part of his brain he didn't even know was there.

“I apologize.” The alpha was the first to speak after he had lowered his hand. The purr in his chest began again, but he quickly cleared his throat, halting it. He flushed slightly, embarrassed by his lack of control. His mind was buzzing, the nearly uncontrollable desire to grab you and roll around in your scent was taking all of his restraint. He clenched his jaw, his canines beginning to ache.

“It's alright,” you assured quietly. Truth be told you hadn't heard a sound like that before. All the alphas you knew had been female. It made your insides weak, especially coming from a possible mate. Both men grew quiet, their eyes scanning you up and down as if you were a foreign creature. You suppose to them- you were.

“John.” You looked at the broad alpha. “And Kyle right?” You asked, turning toward the almost equally broad beta.

“God, where are my manners?” John sighed quietly to himself. “It's nice to meet you. I'm John and that's Kyle. Johnny is still in the medical ward, with Simon.”

“Kate told me about that. Was sorry to hear.” You offered up your sympathy. He gave you a polite smile.

“Figured me and Kyle could show you around and then we’ll head over there so you can meet everyone else,” John explained.

“Sounds good.” You smiled back.

“Bags?” John questioned.

“Oh, there in the car.” you winced looking out at the raging storm.

“I'll get it!” Kyle volunteered quickly, accidentally bumping into Kate on his way out.

“This way,” John spoke softly. His hand rested on your upper back guiding you out of the gray warehouse-type building. Kate followed behind, her eyes trained on his hand. She couldn't wait for the ‘I told you so’s.’

Once you left the building you were outside again- luckily this time the sidewalks were covered. You did enjoy how green everything was. Despite the cold, modern buildings- it was easy to breathe here. “It’s easier to take a cart,” John explained, guiding you into the passenger seat. Kate got in the back, not bothering to suppress the smirk across her face. John’s eyes were too trained on you to notice.

“What about Kyle?” you asked as John began to pull away.

“He’ll find his way back home. He always does.” He smiled, causing you to chuckle. Truth be told he knew his beta needed a moment to clear his senses.

You weaved through the building till you got to the housing areas- which unfortunately weren't covered.

“Shite day out,” John grumbled.

“I like the rain.” You hummed absentmindedly. Something about it felt so healing. John's eyes flickered over to you, watching for a moment as you surveyed your surroundings.

“Here we are.” John huffed, pulling his burly frame out of the cart. It instantly rose without his weight in it, causing you and Kate to giggle. You entered another large gray building, this one tall and commanding. There were lots of windows, the dark cloudy day making it easy to see inside. John held the door open for you and you pulled off the side with a small ‘thank you.’

“Stairs or elevator?” John asked, turning over his shoulder.

“Elevator,” Kate answered for you. John's lips quirk upwards.

“Elevator it is.” He led you both to the elevator, holding his arm out to make sure the door didn't try to close on either of you. He pressed the number eight.

“Is that the top floor?” You questioned. The elevator was fast, you swore you could feel your hair being pushed down.

“Yeah. It's almost like a flat.” John explained. The elevator doors rolled open, to reveal a long hallway. One side is littered with doors, the other with large windows.

“Wow.” You whispered, stopping to take in the view. You could see nearly everything from here. The base was surrounded by trees. You could only imagine how magnificent it was without all the clouds and fog. You followed John and passed the doors until you reached the very last one.

“This is us.” He held up a key card, a light flicking green from the door. “We’re still waiting for yours, you can just use Simon’s till we get it.”

As soon as you walked in there was a galley kitchen. Composed of light oak and white stone countertops. “Here's laundry and storage,” John explained walking through the kitchen to the two french doors at the end of the galley. “Dining area,” he explained, resting his hand on the counter. There were six stools pulled up to the counter. The kitchen overlooked the living area, which took up the majority of the home. There was a plush L-shaped, couch facing a large TV on the wall. Facing into the living room was a series of doors. The one on the right closest to the kitchen was Johnny’s, then a bathroom. “You’ll be sharing this with Johnny and Kyle. Not to worry they’re clean boys.” John assured. Next to the bathroom was Kyle’s room. On the other side of the living room, across from Kyle’s room was Simon's room. Next to Simon’s room was your room, and then next to yours was John's room.

You did feel a bit safer sandwiched between the two alphas of the pack.

But you didn't like the fact you would have to traipse through the living room every time you needed to use the bathroom.

Next to Simon’s door was the door leading out to the patio. It was nice a spacious, but the only thing out there was an ashtray balancing on one of the bars. Beside the TV were two big windows that you knew you would spend a lot of time staring out of.

Maybe Kate could by you a lawn chair as a housewarming gift.

“It's nice.” You said at the end of the tour.

“It gets the job done.”

It was finally time for Kyle to make his way in with your bags. You had one suitcase and a duffle. He carried it like it was empty. You opened your new bedroom door for him, and he set it down without letting his feet cross the threshold.

“I'm sorry I didn't get to properly introduce myself earlier. I'm Kyle, Kyle Garrick.” His voice was smooth and confident compared to the way he bolted from you earlier.

“It's okay, Kyle.” You smiled, finding yourself a bit lost in his warm eyes. John cleared his throat behind you two causing the trances to break.

“How about we all go get some lunch? Wait for the rain to die down then head over to medical?”

Sounded good to you.

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope the room setup isn’t too confusing! I’ll post a little render of their home and link it here! See you in two days for chapter 4! 🧡

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 7A

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: I’ve pretty much wrapped up part 1. Which is why this is pretty long. I’ll be splitting it into its own 2 parts.

Part 2 comes out next week so I’ll be able to finish the series then! There will be much more Pogue story lines then! You’ll hear more about Maybank Readers involvement with the hunt! Hope you’re enjoying so far!

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: angst, smut (brief oral, p in v) Ruthie trigger warning.

You and Rafe are up early, getting ready to head out to the beach. You glance at your phone as you head into the closet to change, seeing a new message from JJ.

JJ - 9:04 AM: “Waves look good today. Grab your board and come join us! Unless you’re too prim and proper for us now.” 🌊

You - 9:06 AM: “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to watch you wipe out every time.” 😇

Meanwhile, Rafe is talking about the offer from Hollis, which has been on your mind too. “Y’know, I might be warming up to what Hollis suggested. It could be a good way for you to get established. Make people take you seriously. This is where you’ve always wanted to be, right?”

Surprised by your support, he glances over. “You think?”

You lean out of the closet, watching him pack your beach bag. “I mean, I’ve got my reservations. I don’t trust anyone who speaks so highly of your dad.” He gives you a look, but you ignore it. “And Sofia pushing you to take it? I mean, what does she know? But maybe it’s worth a shot. I just want you to feel good about whatever you decide.”

You step out, holding your bikini top in one hand, catching him looking at you. Smiling, you gently push his face toward the mirror. “A little help?” You pull your hair out of the way, and he ties the strings in a firm knot behind your neck.

“No matter what you choose, I’m here. But honestly, I’m starting to come around on the idea.”

He grins, his hands settling on your hips. “Feels like this is just landing right in my lap, huh?” He cups your face, his thumb brushing softly along your cheek.

“You could make so much money, Rafe.”

“Well, then I guess I’m about to make so much money.” He leans in, trailing kisses from your lips to your cheeks and down your neck as he pulls you closer, lifting you onto the sink. His fingers press into your hips, and you laugh.

“Making money turns you on this much?” you tease, tilting your head.

He smirks. “Guess it does. Though having you there with me doesn’t help.” He tugs at your bikini bottom, dropping to his knees. “Rafe, we need to leave soon…”

“Just a quick taste,” he murmurs, ignoring the clock.

He laps up the wetness that’s already coating you. Bringing his lips up to your clit and sucking on it. He moved his way back down to your hole and swirls the entrance with his tongue. You love how it feels but you want him inside of you.

You place your palm on his forehead and push his head back. He looks up at you with furrowed brows. “Inside, now… please.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You pull his shirt off of him and he drops his swim trunks to the floor, they pool around his ankles. He undoes the strings of your bottoms, releasing you to the cold air of the bathroom and he pushes up your bikini top.

He runs his hard length through your folds to get it nice and wet and ultimately thrusts into you. You move forward to place your forehead in on. You stare into each other’s eyes. It’s a bit of a strange feeling, you and Rafe completely sober. It’s complete intimacy, neither of you are drunk or high, just looking for a quick fuck with a comfort person. You’re deep in this, you’re both in so much love.

He moves his head down, breaking eye contact, to suck on one of your nipples. One hand traveling to your clit. Rubbing perfect circles on it. Your body arches into him. You moan into his ear and his sends him into overdrive. He’s pounding into you getting you both so close. You grip his shoulders and grind into him meeting his rhythm and clench around him. “That’s it, cum for me, I’m right there too baby.”

His words don’t help and you crash immediately from them. Your legs fall numb and drop from Rafe’s waist so he picks them up and thrusts a couple of more times before he releases into you. You two stay in the same position before Rafe pulls out. He pulls up his swim shorts and walks over to the tub to grab a wash cloth.

He comes back over to you reaching behind you to turn the water on. He smiles at you and you lean into kiss him. You kiss him everywhere, lips, cheeks, neck, chest you don’t want to miss a single spot. Then you just pull him in for a hug. “What are y-?”

“Just hold on a second. I just want to hold you.” He obliges and wraps his arms around your back. You rest your ear in his chest and listen to his heart beat. You’re like that for a few moments when you break. “Can I clean you up now?” You smile and nod and he does just that. Further taking care of you by pulling back down your bikini top and retying your bottoms.

You both stand there for a moment, catching your breath and enjoying the post-coital glow. The water still running, creating a soothing background noise. Rafe gently turns off the water and sets the washcloth aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I think I might like this sober sex thing, especially if it’s with you forever,” he says with a smirk. You giggle and roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

“I think we might be onto something here,” you reply, leaning in to kiss him again. The water still flowing, the room still spinning, but this time it’s not from alcohol or drugs – it’s from the pure, unadulterated passion and love that you share with Rafe.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You hop off the sink, quickly smoothing out your hair. Rafe grabs the beach bag, and the two of you head down to the kitchen. V’s face lights up as soon as she sees you both, and she cheers. You scoop her up, and Rafe wraps you both in a hug.

Since hiring Elaina as V’s full-time nanny, things have been easier. She’s from the island, Topper’s cousin, though from a more middle class background, working hard at her studies in business while juggling this job. It’s ideal for her, and it’s a relief to have someone you trust with V.

You invited Elaina to come to the beach, but she declined. Just then, Rafe gets a text from Topper. “Alright, we have to head out. Your annoying cousin keeps blowing up my phone. Gotta get there before he does.” You both say goodbye, giving V a quick kiss before telling Elaina to text if she needs anything.

Once you’re in Rafe’s convertible, he passes you the beach bag and jogs over to grab your surfboard. Surfing has been part of your life for as long as you can remember, ever since you and JJ started daydreaming about riding waves far enough to leave everything behind. Most importantly leaving Luke behind.

The drive to the beach is calm and bright, Rafe’s hand resting on your thigh while yours settles on his hand. When you arrive, you spot Topper, Kelce, and Ruthie waiting. After the drama from the other night, you only greet Kelce, deciding Ruthie can deal with being ignored for now. Topper, caught in the middle, gets no special treatment either.

Ruthie’s the first to break the silence. “Hey, Rafe and Y/N. What’s up?”

Rafe breathes out a quick “nothing,” while you offer her a flat, uninterested smile, rounding Topper’s Jeep to get in.

As you head to the sand, you spot the Twinkie nearby and wave to JJ and the rest of the crew. The kooks have parked a bit close, not you or them are thrilled about it. You and Rafe settle down near the water, where he sips a beer, his hand moving gently along your leg as you both take in the scene.

JJ, Kie, and Sarah are already in the water, with JJ teaching Sarah how to surf. She catches on quickly, and you watch them, smiling. You steal a glance at Rafe, trying to read his expression, but he’s a mystery.

When Sarah steps out of the water, you turn to him. “Want to go talk to her?”

He shifts, but shrugs it off. “She can come to me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know that’s not how this is going to work, Rafe.”

He starts to argue, but JJ interrupts. “Yo, sis, you riding or what?”

“Yeah, I’m coming!” You hop up, handing your cover-up to Rafe, who gives you a lingering look. Licking his lips as he looks up and down your body.

“Can you be serious for a moment?” you say, exasperated. “I’ll be the first person to help you here Rafe. But you’re not gonna get anything from her. You have to give it your all, that’s the only way it’s gonna work. You caused the damage you have to fix it.”

Leaving him to think, you grab your board and jog over to JJ. He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “What’s up with baby daddy? Got another stick up his ass?”

“He’s actually been great, J. Leave it alone,” you snap, cutting off JJ before he can say more. With that, you both rush into the water, ready to surf. The waves carry you effortlessly, and for a while, it’s peaceful, even with Topper and Kelce joining in. But it doesn’t last—JJ blows a wave, causing Topper to wipe out.

“Well, so much for a peaceful day,” Kie mutters under her breath as Topper storms out of the water, Kelce right behind him. You spot Ruthie on the shore, her eyes glued to the scene, already gearing up for her next bout of drama.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

The rest of the afternoon is spent with your family of Pogues, their laughter and banter offering a break from the tension that always lingers when you’re around Rafe’s dry, humorless crowd. It’s freeing, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about the other world—the Kooks and their incessant games.

The day flies by, and soon enough, you’re sitting in a circle with everyone when Kie’s voice rings out. “Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!”

Your eyes widen with excitement. “Oh my god! I’ve lived here my whole life and never seen one!” You jump to your feet, helping Kie clear a path for the tiny hatchlings.

The group gathers around, marveling as the baby turtles make their way to the water. You reach for your phone, wanting to capture the moment to show Vivienne later, when the sound of an engine revving cuts through the peace. Your head snaps up just in time to see Topper’s Jeep hurtling toward you.

Heart pounding, you grab Sarah and John B, pulling them out of the way as Kie stands firm, waving her arms to try and stop them. But Ruthie, wild-eyed and relentless, aims straight for her. JJ dives in at the last second, yanking Kie out of the Jeep’s path as it roars by.

���What the fuck is wrong with her?!” you shout, the panic morphing into fury as Ruthie speeds through the turtle hatch, sending sand and broken shells flying. She throws a drink at Kie, drenching her in alcohol before heading back to the cluster of Kooks, who cheer her on.

Kie, now soaked and furious, picks up a lifeless hatchling and starts walking toward the group. Your eyes find Rafe’s, watching his expression as he stands surrounded by his friends, unmoving. Then you look at JJ, who gives you a nod, and together you follow behind Kie.

The anger you’d felt toward Topper and Ruthie since the last confrontation fuels your steps. The sting of betrayal simmers as you realize that Rafe, the man who claims to love you and your daughter, is once again silent when it matters most. He can do it in private but not when there’s too many Kooks around.

Kie’s voice cuts through your haze. “Look at what you did!” She screams at them, but you barely hear the exchange. Your vision tunnels, zeroing in on Ruthie’s smug face and Rafe’s indifferent stance.

Ruthie spits out a threat about being filmed, and without thinking, you snap. “Fuck you, Ruthie,” you hiss, stepping between her and Kie. Topper raises a hand to stop you, but you shove it off your shoulder.

“And fuck you too, you cowardly lap dog.” He blinks, momentarily stunned. “What?”

“You’re pussy, Top. Always hiding behind your girlfriend, letting her pull your strings. It’s embarrassing,” you seethe. He doesn’t say anything, not shocking.

Ruthie throws out another taunt you barely register. Your fists clench, itching to make her regret ever crossing you. But the thought of your daughter flashes in your mind—a reminder of why you can’t afford an assault charge.

You take a breath, forcing your hands down and stepping back. “There is seriously something wrong with you people,” Kie shouts, her voice trembling with rage. You exchange another look with Rafe, one filled with disappointment and disbelief. JJ issues a final warning, promising consequences if they ever come at the Pogues again.

“JJ, let’s go,” you command, your voice tight. You start to lead Kie away when Rafe’s voice, low and almost apologetic, cuts through the chaos. “Yeah, I saw that,” he mutters, siding with Ruthie.

Blood surges hot in your veins at his words as you push over the large speaker Kelce had set up earlier, the crash punctuating your fury. You flip Topper off as he shouts after you, but you’re already walking away, your pulse thrumming with betrayal and rage.

Walking back, you keep Kie close, rubbing her upper arm in an attempt to soothe her. “When you get home, you should hold a little funeral for him,” you suggest softly.

She wipes her eyes, a faint smile breaking through the tears. “That’s a good idea.”

At the Twinkie, you help Kie climb in and press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry, Kie.” She nods silently, eyes fixed on the lifeless turtle cradled in her hands.

With a heavy heart, you move to help pack up the rest of their things, casting a glance at Sarah. She meets your eyes, sympathy etched across her face. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “She’ll be alright.” You step forward, sharing a strong, silent hug, then turn away, bracing yourself for the walk back to the group that now feels so foreign.

As you pass through the cluster of Kooks, you ignore their smirks and jeers, stuffing your belongings into your bag. Rafe steps up, his expression unreadable. “Not cool, Rafe,” you say firmly.

“They deserved it,” he counters, eyes searching yours for understanding.

“I want to leave. Now.” You sling your surfboard under your arm and march off toward the car, determined not to get back in Topper’s Jeep, no matter how far Rafe’s is parked.

Rafe rushes after you, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins pushes you forward faster than you thought possible. You reach the car before he does, rattling the door handle impatiently. When he finally arrives, you snap, “Open it.” He unlocks the door, grabbing your board before you can stow it yourself.

“Maybank, stop it. You’re really going to give me shit over what Ruthie did?” he protests.

You shake your head, a bitter laugh slipping out. “No, I’m giving you shit about your ego. You care so much about what those people think that you can’t say a word, even when you know it was wrong. If the roles were reversed…” He turns away, heading to the driver’s side, but you reach out, grabbing his wrist to pull him back.

“I’m not done.” Your eyes lock with his, demanding his attention. “If that happened to you, do you think any of them would care? Do you think they’d protect you like JJ did Kie? They wouldn’t, Rafe, because you don’t actually care about each other. You only get mad when it makes the Kooks look bad. That’s not real loyalty.”

You take a breath before continuing, your voice steady and resolute. “We might be ‘scum from the Cut,’ but we’re a family. We stand up for each other, no matter what. Something your so-called friends could never understand. You want to be better for V, for me, even for Sarah? Then get the fuck over yourself.”

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, sliding into the car without another word. The drive home is silent, the tension palpable, a stark contrast to the calm of the morning.

When you arrive home, you grab your bag and rush inside. Elaina is feeding V her dinner, and the moment you see your daughter, warmth floods you. “Hi, baby!” you coo, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. V laughs, her giggle a balm to your frayed nerves.

“Hi, mama!” she chirps, eyes sparkling.

You turn to Elaina. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You can head out after that—I’m not going anywhere tonight.” Passing Rafe as he enters the kitchen, you don’t spare him a glance, making sure to lock the bedroom and bathroom doors behind you.

Under the hot stream of water, the tension in your body starts to dissolve. You stay there longer than intended, letting the day wash off you. A sharp knock on the bedroom door snaps you back. Rafe’s muffled voice follows. “Come on, Y/N, open up.”

You dry off at a leisurely pace, slipping into pajamas and combing through your damp hair. The knock grows more insistent, but you take your time applying moisturizer, savoring the rare moment of peace. Finally, you unlock the door.

“Finally,” Rafe mutters, frustration lacing his voice. “Dramatic much?” His tone grates on your nerves, but you stay silent, walking past him without a word. He calls out, “Really?” but you don’t turn back.

Sitting at the table with V, you pick at reheated leftovers as she babbles between bites. Another things Kooks don’t have a grasp on. Practically had to force Rafe to not to throw these leftovers out.

Rafe joins you, reaching out across the table. You glance at his hand but don’t take it. He sighs, retreating as you show V the videos of the baby turtles, willing away the memory of the broken shell in Kie’s hands.

“V, do you know how pretty you are? You get that from your mama,” Rafe says softly. The sweetness in his tone almost cracks your resolve, but you hold firm, in the back of your mind you like the effect you have on him. You get up clearing the dishes and pressing a kiss to V’s head she giggles at your touch.

You set a plate of food in front of Rafe, who looks up, surprised. “I ordered something to be delivered.” You clench down on your teeth and you go to pull the food away but he grabs your hands and stops you. “I’ll have this, I can save that food for tomorrow.”

He’s gonna save his food? It’s getting really hard to not be mad at him. He tries so hard with you. Why can’t he do it for others?

You set it back down again. Grabbing V to give her a bath. You rest your hand in his shoulder and you walk past him. The nighttime routine is mercifully smooth, and soon V is asleep. You’re curled up in bed with a book when Rafe enters, sitting at your feet.

Tbc in Part 7B

Taglist:

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

[sserafics]

MAKE A WISH — henry h. x fem reader

fluff, use of y/n, reader has a bad experience w/ bdays, friends to lovers (?), set in season 4-5, second person pov

(requested!)

the dread you feel when you wake up on your birthday isn’t unfamiliar. every year it’s like this. quiet. lonely. though, it’s not all bad. at least you don’t have people nagging at you to open their presents first.. or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

your birthday has never been something you particularly look forward to; the day has always been filled with empty promises, disappointment, or just being alone in general.

this year, you’ve decided to just stay home, locked in your room all day with a blanket and movies you love to watch on repeat.

you’re curled up on your bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets while you watch a movie you’ve seen a thousand times before.

it was peaceful, almost like today was just a normal day, and not something you should be celebrating with friends and family; until a knock on your window startles you. you frown and pause the movie, getting out of bed and walking to your window. you open the blinds slowly, squinting against the light that filters into the previously dark room.

your brow furrows when you see your best friend, henry hart standing— or sitting on the tree next to your window.

“happy birthday, y/n.” he beams, smiling widely as if he’s not one slip away from falling two stories down. he’s holding a box in his hand, wrapped neatly with colored paper.

you blink. “henry, what are you doing here?” you ask, still frowning as you help him inside.

“i’m here you kidnap you,” he says sarcastically, slipping through your window effortlessly. he hands you the box he was holding, gesturing for you to open it.

you take it, looking at him skeptically before popping the lid open.

“i know you like to spend your birthday alone, but i thought you’d wanna give this a shot.” he gestures to the box, where two tickets to a carnival lay, next to a small pack of your favorite candy. a small smile makes its way to your lips.

you look back up at him, now hesitant as you remember your past birthdays. the disappointment and sadness the day always brought, but there’s a look in his eyes that intrigues you.

“i don’t know..” you murmur, your gaze trailing back to the tickets.

“come on,” he urges you gently, “just give me a few hours. if you hate it, i’ll bring you back, deal?”

you bite your lip, still a bit skeptical.

“i already bought the tickets.” he adds, smiling again at the look on your face after he says that.

you sigh, still debating in your mind if this is worth the trouble, after all, birthdays aren’t really your thing, yet the look on his face makes you second guess yourself.

you nod after a moment. “fine, but just a few hours.”

henry’s grin widens and he takes your hand, leading you out your room. as the two of you leave your house, you can’t help but wonder why he didn’t just knock on the front door. your parents aren’t home anyway, so it’s not like it’d matter.

you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought, the lights and sounds of the carnival ahead breaking you out of your thoughts.

when you arrive, your eyes widen in awe. the colorful lights, the laughter of children, the delicious smell of popcorn and cotton candy— all fills your senses as you two walk in. the atmosphere is a start contrast to the quiet day you had planned on having. you look over at henry and see he’s already looking at you, smiling at your reaction.

“well? what do you think?” he asks, letting go of your hand briefly to fetch the tickets, handing them to the guy in the booth.

“it’s… nice.” you mumble, still looking around at the lively atmosphere.

after the two of you are let in, you approach the game booths. despite your initial reluctance on coming, you start to feel excitement and enthusiasm as he hands the woman at the ring toss booth a few quarters.

you stifle a laugh as henry tries (but fails) to win you a specific panda plush that caught your eye the moment you stepped foot in the carnival.

the two of you have been standing here for about ten minutes, him being determined to win you the plush.

“here, let me try.” you tell him, taking one of the darts from his hands. you turn back towards the booth and throw the dart, hitting the exact balloon he was aiming for, a prideful smile forming on your lips as the man in the booth reaches for the plush and hands it to you.

you look over at henry, who looks shocked. his jaw dropped, almost looking offended at you hitting the balloon so effortlessly.

“i’m supposed to be winning you prizes for your birthday, not the other way around, y/n” he says, sounding exasperated yet joking.

you laugh and reach for his hand, pulling him toward another booth, the panda plush tucked under your arm. “cmon, you can win me that one.” you add, pointing to a stuffed frog at a beanbag toss booth.

when the sun begins to set, a warm glow casting over the carnival from it, henry leads you to the ferris wheel. you hold onto the stuffed animals and the other things he managed to win you tightly as the two of you enter the pod.

you take a seat on one side of the ferris wheel, and you furrow your brows at the box sitting on the other side.

henry grabs the box and places it on his lap, opening the lid to reveal a small cake, that writes ‘happy birthday y/n’ in cursive lettering on top.

“i made this for you.” he smiles, pulling out a small pack of candles and a lighter, lighting them as the ferris wheel begins to slowly move.

he holds the cake near your face, the light of the candles illuminating your face. he smiles wider as he says, “make a wish, y/n”

you close your eyes, a warm feeling in your chest slowly building up as you make your wish. you open your eyes and blow out the candles, smiling softly.

you look at him again, noticing his face closer than your used to. you don’t pull away, though.

he laughs awkwardly before pulling out a plastic fork from the box and cutting a small piece from the cake. “say ‘ah’” he smirks playfully, holding the piece up to your mouth.

you roll your eyes but part your lips, allowing him to feed you. he feeds you a few bites and even purposely smears a bit of frosting onto your nose, making your face scrunch up. he laughs at that and sets the cake down on the seat. you turn to look out the window, taking in the view of swellview below you, the sunset casting a warm glow over the buildings.

“hey, y/n.” his voice rings out, making you turn back to look at him, confused.

“yeah?”

“you’ve got some frosting,” he gestures vaguely to your face, making you frown and try to wipe it away.

“no, no. not there.” he adds, smiling wider and leaning closer. you don’t notice at first. he gently grabs your wrist to stop you from rubbing at your face.

“where is it?-“ you began, thinking he’d get it for you, but your words cut off when he suddenly leaned in and kissed you softly, cupping your cheek.

the kiss was short, almost like it never happened, but the way his hand cups your face assures you that it’s real. your best friend is kissing you.

you pull back after a moment, your cheeks feeling hot as you open your eyes, looking up at him.

“got it.” he comments smugly.

you blink. your wish came true.

later that night, as henry helps you climb back into your window, you can’t help but ask him something that’s been on your mind since earlier.

as you plop into your bedroom, you turn back to the window, where he’s sitting on the tree again.

“hey henry?”

“hm?” he hums, looking back at you, slightly confused.

“schwoz made the cake, didn’t he?”

…

“…yeah.”

(a/n) omf this took me so long to post 😞 thank u to whoever requested this!! it was so cute and fun to write 🫶🏻 also to everyone else who sent me a request i’ll try my best to get them done soon! thank u for ur patience and i hope you guys enjoyed reading!!! :)