#it was not always like this. even a couple years ago it was not this bad.

[aureatelys]

adore you

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 3k a/n: written for @mggslover's 1k celebration event, congrats baby! i initially wrote 5k, hated it, and basically rewrote all of it but i swear i still had fun writing this. i hope you enjoy <3

summary:

Weird. You're acting like my boyfriend. - God Is a Freak, Peach PRC Your boss has essentially become your best friend. What the hell does Derek mean he looks at you a certain way?

c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, age gap ofc, feelings realization, reader is oblivious and tipsy but is a consenting party

read below or on ao3 here <3

“So, you and Hotch, huh?”

You had just finished putting your coat up, stepping through the massive entryway of Rossi’s mansion, when Derek approaches you with that familiar shit-eating grin and hands rubbing together like he’s scheming something.

You blink up at him, confused. “Yeah… he gave me a ride.”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still wearing that smile that made you want to lovingly punch him. “Yeah, I saw that. I meant, you and Hotch aren’t…?”

You squint at him, because you really aren’t sure what he’s hinting at. Also, a glass of wine has been calling your name since you started getting ready and Derek is very much in the way of that. Hotch was always annoyingly punctual, and today was no different because you were honestly about to open up a bottle when you heard his car pull up in the driveway. “We aren’t what?”

“Sweetness. You’re really trying to tell me you and Hotch aren’t together?”

You choke on your spit, coughing so loud in your fist that it echoes down the entryway and gathers the attention of Rossi and Hotch at the end of it. You wave them off when they both give you equally alarmed and concerned looks while Derek laughs heartily, like the asshole he is.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss at him, slapping him on the shoulder as he nearly makes himself tear up from laughing.

Derek puts a somewhat apologetic hand on your arm as he steers you to the kitchen and pours you a glass of red, finally. “Hey, I see the way he looks at you, I just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on everything.”

And that catches your attention.

Your chest still aching from your coughing fit, you give him another perplexed look. “What? He looks at me the same way as he looks at everyone.”

Derek’s face morphs into a nervous, almost uncomfortable one as he starts slowly backing away into the living room, as if you were an unpredictable dangerous animal. “I think I’m gonna… look for Garcia.”

And then he turns on his heel and is out of the kitchen before you can blink, leaving you with your lone glass of wine and the sounds of laughter emanating from the patio.

You’re still so fucking confused, because you and Hotch were only friends. In fact, you can almost consider him your best friend with the way you two are spending so much time together, even on the weekends.

One late night spent in his office to work on reports that were due the next day that you had procrastinated on and ordering Chinese food eventually turned into a habitual thing, now spending the last hour of the workday every night in his office. Then, he started inviting you to the park to play with Jack who had apparently been asking for you, then staying for dinner because Hotch was not eating the way he should’ve been and him and Jack didn’t deserve to eat pizza rolls with mac and cheese every night.

It's been a couple of months and now, you can honestly say you two are nearly attached at the hip. You’ve tried to tone it down for the office, because you knew you would get teased, and clearly you were right.

But dating Hotch? Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you.

You’ve been single for over a year and you were okay with that, because at least the job kept you busy. And you know for a fact that Hotch hasn’t even thought about dating since Beth moved a couple of years ago.

The sudden thought of Beth, her pretty blue-green eyes and perfect hair, causes a sour taste to form in your mouth. You had never met her, having only technically heard good things about her, but every time you thought of her or someone mentioned her in passing, you felt… upset.

For no reason.

When you glance at Hotch from where he’s talking with the rest of the team on the patio, you catch his gaze for a brief second before he’s turning his head back around to chuckle at something Rossi says.

You feel your heart start to race, your blood rushing through your ears, because what the fuck did Derek mean when he said Hotch looks at you a certain way? You were telling the truth when you said you’ve only noticed him looking at you platonically and nothing more.

Sure, Hotch was conventionally attractive, handsome even. You guess he hit all your boxes in a guy; tall, capable hands, and pretty brown eyes. He was a good boss, a good man, and was always putting other people first before even thinking about himself. He had an intense sense of justice, loves children, and would do absolutely anything for his team and even beyond for Jack.

He has a nice laugh once you break down his walls. For all he’s meticulous at work, his house is absolutely chaotic and it takes you nearly an hour sometimes to get him and Jack ready for a soccer game. He doesn’t prefer to cook but he seems to enjoy it more when you’re in the kitchen with him, laughing at his technique and groaning about the lack of certain utensils.

The sudden realization that you like Hotch, your boss that is older than you by 20 years, hits you like a ton of bricks. You nearly snap the stem of your wine glass, something like panic and mortification climbing up your throat before you could help it.

It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s normal to have a crush on someone you spend time with on a regular basis and is conventionally attractive. You can deal with that.

But the absolute possibility that Hotch doesn’t want you romantically was very real. In fact, it had to be the only possibility. You were younger and less experienced, both romantically and professionally. The only reason that he’s been spending so much time with you was because you needed guidance and reassurance as the newest member of the team.

He doesn’t look at you any differently than the others. That’s it. Derek has no idea what he’s talking about.

You take a shuddering deep breath, quickly composing yourself because, hello, you work with profilers. Which meant you couldn’t avoid or hide from Hotch tonight, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you make your way out to the patio to join the others with a full glass of wine and you spot the only space left in the circle was between Spencer and Penelope, you internally thank whatever God was out there. The sound of them talking over each other about something inane was oddly comforting as your eyes met Aaron’s from the other side of the circle.

His eyes appeared golden from the numerous fairy lights strewn across Rossi’s backyard, making his face appear softer and younger. You’re not sure how it took you this long to realize he was so handsome.

He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you were okay because, somehow, he’s grown to learn your facial expressions like the back of his hand, which means he most likely will catch on to you having a silly juvenile crush on him.

You give him a weak smile, raising your glass slightly before taking a large gulp of it. You’re glad that Rossi is Rossi and that he doesn’t spare any expenses when he throws his parties, the strong cherry flavor refreshing compared to your cheap boxed wine you’re used to. You don’t even remember what you were celebrating tonight, or if you were even celebrating anything at all and this was just another much needed get together after case after case.

You catch something soft in Hotch’s eyes that makes your chest pang painfully as he raises his own glass of whiskey before taking a sip. No one else has noticed, too enthralled by their own conversations, so the intimacy of the private moment doesn’t escape you, in fact making you even more anxious.

It was going to be a long night.

-

You are absolutely going to give Derek an earful on Monday morning.

It’s entirely his fault that you’re not enjoying Rossi’s party to the full extent, his words swimming in your mind.

Now, you’re psychoanalyzing and second-guessing everything Hotch does.

You had made sure to walk alongside Penelope on the way to the large round table for dinner, somewhat consciously as you continued to avoid Hotch but also because she was rambling about the show you suggested she watch. Spencer was on the other side of you, interjecting whenever he could, and you made a mental note that Hotch was still on the other side of the circle between Rossi and Tara.

So imagine your surprise when, after you tear your attention away from Spencer’s ramblings and back to Penelope, you’re met with Hotch’s pretty eyes and woodsy cologne instead.

“Oh, hi,” you say, hoping he doesn’t hear the shakiness that’s suddenly overtaken your voice as that familiar panic starts to crawl up your throat. This wasn’t going to be good.

“’Hi.” The corners of Hotch’s lips quirk up, eyes softening, and what the fuck is going on. “Can I sit next to you?”

You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. This man cannot be healthy for you. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

And then he’s pulling out your chair for you.

And it’s not anything new—he pulls your chair out for you all the time, in the conference room, in his dining table when you made not-pizza rolls, and even at restaurants the afternoons after Jack’s soccer games. You’ve never thought anything of it, but tonight, after your impeccably timed realization, your brain feels like it’s going to implode.

He’s just being a gentleman, that’s all.

“Thank you,” you manage out, heat starting to come to your face. Before Hotch, no one’s ever pulled your chair out for you. It’s nice.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, because of course not, just scoots your chair in closer to the table before he takes his seat on your right.

And he’s sitting really fucking close to you.

Have you always sat this close to each other before? You must have at least once during those late nights in his office, poring over case file after case file.

Not only could you feel the heat of his body just from sitting next to him, but his arm kept brushing up against your bare one while he ate, because of course you had to sit on the left side of a left-handed person. Every brush of the sleek fabric of his green button-up against your bare arm sent shivers down your spine despite the summer air, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

His hand kept brushing against yours as you ate and your eyes are drawn to how large his hands are as he handles his fork and the thickness of his forearms, having had rolled up his sleeves earlier. If you searched closely, you could find scars scattered over them through the dusting of hair, undoubtedly from his time on the job.

You don’t realize you’re staring at his Rolex and the way it glints underneath the lights, until Hotch is suddenly leaning into you. “Are you okay?”

Jesus Christ, hearing that smooth voice speaking lowly in your ear, breath warm as it fans over your cheek, causes all of the air in your lungs to escape. Has his voice always been that smooth, attractive?

When you risk a glance at him, conversations around the table slowly fading into the background, his face is merely inches from yours. His brows are pinched in concern and lips are pressed into a flat line. There’s something dancing in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

You clear your throat. “Sorry, I think the wine is just getting to me.”

He chuckles low underneath his breath. “Good thing I’m driving.”

And then he’s knocking the back of his hand against yours, the briefest brush of skin that causes electricity to zing up your spine, and then he’s back to listening intently to Derek and Emily’s bickering over who cheated at the last game of charades.

At this point, you think Hotch is able to read your mind. Why else would he be touching you, be sweet on you, if not to torture you?

You try to wrack your brain through these past couple of months, trying to find whether Hotch touching his hand to yours has happened before or any other sign that he actually is attracted to you. You come up short.

You chalk it up to him loosening up from his whiskey. He’s already moved onto water, because he was your ride, after all, so maybe this was a fluke. A one-off.

But it’s not a one-off. In fact, you think you’ve honestly died and gone to Heaven after suddenly tripping and breaking your head open in the entryway after Derek spoke with you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were actually on a date with Hotch, sans the rest of the team.

He must have noticed your distracted mood, because he’s making sure you’re included in almost every table conversation by glancing at you and giving you a smile that has started to make something flutter in your stomach. He’s participating minimally like usual, content to listen, but whenever he has a comment or thought he wants to share, he’s leaning in and sharing it with you.

He's leaning in to top of your wine, reaching over the table to get more of those green beans you like, and once even knocking his knee against yours underneath the table when you looked especially lost in thought while staring at your plate.

And then when the team has moved into the living room for charades, Emily wanting payback against Derek, it somehow gets even worse.

You’re quick enough to be the first to volunteer to not play due to there being an odd number of players, thus requiring Hotch to play. Everyone cheers teasingly, because Hotch is always quick to volunteer himself out of games, content to watch.

You blame the copious glasses of wine you’ve consumed and the decadent filling dinner, warmth thrumming through your entire body, when you poke at Hotch’s considerably firm bicep. “Show us what you got, old man.”

There are resounding oohs and aahs from the rest of the team. Something fuzzy settles in your chest when Hotch rolls his eyes good-naturedly at you and stands up from where he had sat next to you on the couch to JJ’s team.

You continue to nurse your wine, pleasantly buzzed, as you are thoroughly entertained by your team’s antics. Emily and Rossi argue at least 3 times, Penelope gets significantly close to having a private meeting with HR, and Hotch continues to stare at you.

Or at least, you think he’s staring at you. The alcohol has started making you second guess things even more than you already were. Because for some reason, despite JJ sitting on the other side of the living room and being on a team with her, he moved to sit in the empty spot next to you after the first round.  

He’s definitely participating in the game, even in second place behind Penelope and Derek, but you swear you feel his eyes on you now more than ever.

It’s distracting as you try to follow the game and guess along with everyone else. This time, the right side of him is nearly molded against your left side, pressing into you so hard that you’re starting to sweat from how much body heat he’s radiating.

When you glance at him to try and catch his eyes, he meets your gaze steadily. His hair is starting to come undone, a few strands falling against his forehead, and his dimple seems to have made a permanent appearance from how much he’s pretending not to laugh at his team’s antics.

It’s nice to see him enjoy himself—a flush rising up his neck and shoulders relaxed. Although you understand he has a certain image he maintains for his team, it’s become familiar to you.

By the time it dwindles close to midnight, there’s a chorus of yawns around the group. Penelope’s the first to call it, stumbling to grab a hold of Derek’s arm and dragging him with her out the door to drive her home, ruining your initial plans to catch a ride home with her instead of Hotch. After that, everyone starts to say their goodnights and exchanging hugs despite the chance you may get called on a case as early as tomorrow morning.

“You ready to go?” Hotch leans to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning over you again and causing heat to rise to your face.

“Absolutely,” you exhale, clutching the water bottle that Hotch retrieved for you in the middle of the game, hoping the breathiness in your voice could be blamed on how late it was.

When you get to Hotch’s car, heart full and warm after spending another wonderful evening with your makeshift family, he opens the passenger side door for you.

You think you’re going to lose your mind if he keeps this up. How are you supposed to stop having a crush on Hotch when he keeps doing things that justify that crush?

“Do you need to stop anywhere for anything? Are you hungry?”

You blame it on the wine despite the fact you’ve been drinking nothing but water for the past hour, thanks to Hotch silently getting you and only you a water. Your body and tongue feels loose, inhibitions naturally decreased, and it’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter if the soft lights of the driveway highlight the sharp angles of his face or the way his woodsy cologne has infiltrated your senses.

“Weird, you’re acting like my boyfriend or something.”

The silence that ensues is deafening. Your brain takes forever to catch up with you, but then you’re suddenly struck with humiliation and dread. You mind starts to race, as best as it could, when you realize that you may have just royally messed up the best job you’ve ever had and the best group of people you’ve ever met.

Before you can backtrack and say that you were just joking, Hotch carefully says “Do you want me to be?”

“What?” Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, why did you drink so much wine?

And then Hotch is stepping closer, into your space, and you’d be worried that the rest of the team was going to see if the car door wasn’t shielding you from view from the front of the house. You get a whiff of whiskey on his breath again, but when you meet his eyes, there’s not a hint of the same full body dizziness you feel.

“Was I not being direct enough?” There’s amusement sparkling in his eyes, eyebrows raised. He looks like he’s politely trying to hide a fond smile. He’s teasing you.

This Hotch is the one you’ve grown to become familiar with over the past several months. Charming and unafraid to tease you when you’re away from prying eyes. Hotch is a private person, always has been, so it’s not a surprise that him essentially torturing you tonight was his version of being direct.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

Hotch ducks his head bashfully to chuckle. It’s ridiculously endearing and you want to tug him closer and touch him all over. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all month so I’m guessing I didn’t do a very good job.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, suddenly feeling much more sobered up than 5 minutes ago. Clarity sluggishly comes to you. The various invitations to spend the night or go out to dinner without Jack comes to mind. The touching had steadily increased, but you had assumed it was just due to Hotch getting more comfortable around you.

For a profiler, you weren’t very good at noticing what was happening right in front of you.

Hotch may be a ridiculously patient person, clearly since he’s been content to flirt with you for apparently a month while you didn’t notice, but you were not. You knew what you wanted. The wine still thrumming through your veins just gave you that little extra push.

You place your palms on his chest, relishing in the subtle firmness you can detect through his shirt, and you wonder if that’s his heart you feel thumping erratically or your own. “I promise I’m not that drunk and am fully aware of what is going on right now.”

Hotch hums and places his hands on your hips, the heat of him searing through the fabric of your dress. His eyes briefly flit to your mouth before back up at you. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”

Instead of providing a snarky response, and because you know Hotch wouldn’t make the first move since you did have some to drink, you finally lean in to close the distance between you two to kiss him.

It’s soft, chaste in a way that makes you feel pleasantly warm all over, the barest tendrils of electricity tugging at the pit of your stomach. The intensity of how much you like him, how much you adore him, nearly barrels you over, but Hotch’s grip on you tightens, steadying you. His lips only slightly move against yours, as if briefly testing the waters, but it does nothing to quell the sudden desire slowly twisting inside of you.

When he pulls back, chest only marginally heaving, you instinctively chase after him. He chuckles again, low and comforting, as his hands come up to hold you still by the shoulders. It shouldn’t feel as nice and soothing as it does. “I should take you home.”

“Are you coming with me?” You sincerely hope that Hotch doesn’t question you and your boldness tomorrow. Again, not entirely your fault.

“I’ll walk you to your door, how about that?” As if he already wasn’t going to do that.

On the drive back to your apartment, the tight ball of panic and uncertainty in your chest quickly unfurls and is replaced by affection, tenderness, and promises of the future. Hotch’s hand, large and protective, doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way home.

You make a mental note to send Derek a gift card and thank you note on Monday.

[spentgladiator]

I love Valentine's Day. I'm a server, and have been for many years, so I get a peep into many different relationships and the thing about Valentine's Day in particular is.

Couples that dont go out together anymore, don't spend time together anymore and don't really like each other any more still go out on Vday because of the obligation (she needs to be able to tell the girls he took her to a nice dinner to keep up the facade of a happy marriage, he needs to say he did something or else the cute girl at the office who asks what he and his wife did might think he's an asshole) and those are the couple's you can spot a mile away.

They're usually in the 40-60 range but not always, when the kids are young they can feasibly get away with not doing something because they can't find a babysitter or equal excuse, so the kids are grown enough to have one stay home and mind the others. The body language will be stiff, rigid and deeply uncomfortable, as though they are sat across from some kind of creature or perhaps a beast. One or both will likely be looking at their phone a lot more than you would expect a couple at a romantic dinner. The conversation will be sparse, unemotional, very logistics based rather than anything intimate or emotional. They'll be "dressed up" like a business meeting, nothing sexy or fun and the vibes within fifteen feet of that table will be RANCID.

Any other night of the year and these people would be holed up on opposite ends of the house keeping themselves occupied, maybe she's out with some friends and he's practicing his golf swing on a simulation somewhere idk what straight men do honestly. They are strangers to each other, worse yet, strangers with BAGGAGE. they will both be totally impervious to your charm and attempts at being friendly and warm to lighten the mood, (alternatively, she will cling to you like a life vest as a source of any positive interaction, her eyes screaming 'please can I just hang out with you instead')

You wonder if you even need to put ice in their drinks cause with how cold they both are it's likely the drink would freeze in their hand anyway.

As for how these two make it through other special occasions - other people. Think about it.... Christmas brings children and relatives and friends, birthdays, Holidays, they never have to spend that time alone together. Valentine's Day stands out as a time when just the two of them HAVE to do something, lest they admit to themselves and each other that the love between them had died long ago.

This couple is not special. I see a few of them every Vday, you just have to try your luck if you wanna spot them. I recommend hopping, drinks and appys at one spot, main course at one spot, dessert at another to maximize your chances at spotting one. Just make sure you call ahead and book your tables!

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Here"

Ok yall I'm back with chapter 7!! Hopefully this posts bc it wasn't working yesterday. Sorry if it's confusing, I rewrote it like 5 times! I tried not to use {y/n} but i mightve slipped up! Hope ya'll enjoy!! The plot is finally moving!! Lmk if you have any questions. Likes, reblogs, and asks motivate me! I love when yall send me your ideas and comments and asks! Wish me luck, I'm posting this and then taking my math exam! If you don't like it, don't read, stop sending mean asks and submissions!

Breakfast the next morning was horrible.

The awkward silence lingered, thick with unspoken words and eyes that felt like they were scanning every inch of you. You could feel their weight on your back, like a thousand invisible hands pushing you deeper into your seat, forcing you to stay in this uncomfortable moment.

You could already feel the heat rising in your chest, but you bit your lip, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You weren’t going to lose your cool—not yet.

Damian’s gaze was fixed on you, like he was waiting for some kind of reaction, his lips pressed into a thin line. You knew what he was expecting: compliance. Submission. He expected you to shrink back under his scrutiny. And yet, there was something oddly satisfying about not giving him that satisfaction.

Instead, you focused on the plate in front of you, stabbing your fork into the pancakes with far too much force. You were still hungry, but the food felt like cardboard in your mouth, tasteless and dry, even though Alfred’s cooking was always the best.

Bruce was still watching you, his eyes heavy with a kind of expectant patience, like he was just waiting for you to crack. You could feel the tension in the room like a ticking clock, the seconds stretching longer than you’d ever thought possible.

"Why are you all staring at me?" you finally muttered, breaking the silence, your voice low but biting. You didn't look up from your plate, but you could feel the eyes on you. They all thought they could break you. They thought you were some fragile little thing, someone they could fix with their pity and their "family time." But you weren’t. You’d stopped being that person a long time ago.

Dick was the first to speak, his voice softer than usual, like he was trying to tread lightly around you. “We’re just trying to connect, I know it’s been a long time, and things got… complicated, but we don’t want to lose you again. Not after all this time.”

His words weren’t as comforting as he probably thought they were. In fact, they made your skin crawl. He was trying to be kind, but it felt forced, like he was reading from a script. You didn’t need this. Not from him, not from any of them. You wanted them to stop pretending like they could fix everything with a few hugs, a couple of "we missed you"s.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you said quietly, your voice almost a whisper, but it carried a weight. “I didn’t ask to be here. And I didn’t ask to be part of this family anymore.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened at your words, but he didn’t say anything at first. You could feel the flicker of something in his expression—guilt, maybe. Regret. He was looking at you, like he was trying to see the person you used to be. The person you had been before everything fell apart.

You weren’t that person anymore. And he needed to understand that.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Damian suddenly said, his voice a little too sharp. “You can’t just shut us out like this. You’re still a part of this family. Whether you like it or not.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. " I can shut you all out, I can do whatever I want” you snapped, the frustration leaking through. “You’ve done it to me for years.”

Dick’s brow furrowed, his lips pulling into a frown. For a second, he looked genuinely taken aback by your words, “You don’t understand,” he said, his tone quieter but still laced with an edge. “We didn’t abandon you. Not on purpose. You think we didn’t care? You just never seemed to need help.”

You could feel the sting of his words, but you pushed it down, locking it away. You weren’t going to break. Not for him. Not for any of them. Of course you never needed help, you were too busy trying to be perfect.

“I was just a kid,” you replied, your voice a little rawer, louder than you intended. “And I was ignored by the people who were supposed to be there for me. So fuck you and fuck your family time too.”

There was a long pause, everyone looked around in shock, not expecting you to be so combatant and then Jason finally spoke up, his tone softer than usual, less teasing. “We’re trying, okay? I'm trying. We’re not perfect, and I’m not asking you to just forget everything. But we want to try. Let us try.”

You shot him a look, your eyes narrowing. “Trying isn’t good enough,” you muttered, your voice tight. “Not when it’s years too late. I don't want scraps of love anymore, not when i've had the real deal.”

Everyone seemed to quiet at the last part of your statement, suspicious of what it meant and from who you received "love" from. What convinced you that you didn't need them anymore?

“Then what do you want?” Tim interjected, his voice suddenly sharper, more direct than before. “What do you want from us? We’re here, and we’re trying to make it right. But you’ve got to meet us halfway.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell them that nothing would ever be good enough, that the damage was already done. But you didn’t. Instead, you just stared at Tim, meeting his eyes with a challenge of your own. You didn’t owe them answers. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, almost defeated. “I don’t know what I want.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t know if there was anything they could do to fix things. But one thing was certain: you didn’t want to stay in this mansion, suffocated by their expectations. You didn’t want to play along with their idea of a happy family.

Before anyone could respond, you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a loud scrape against the floor.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, turning on your heel. “I’ll figure it out on my own. I always have.”

You heard Duke’s soft voice in the background, calling after you, but you didn’t stop. You just walked out of the dining room, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way toward the staircase.

As you climbed the stairs, you could feel their eyes on your back, the weight of their presence pressing down on you, but you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if they watched. You didn’t care if they were disappointed. You just wanted to be alone.

That day, you stayed in bed. You ignored every knock on your door, every phone call, every beg and plead to come down and eat. You just wanted to be alone.

You woke up to the quiet hum of the manor, but it was far from peaceful. The silence was suffocating, a constant reminder that there was no escaping them—not now. You tried to pretend the night before hadn’t happened, that their constant attention wasn’t as overwhelming as it was, that you were going back to New York soon. Unfortunately, fantasies don't become realities, especially when reality is chasing them down.

Every one of them was here, waiting. Watching.

Bruce stood near the staircase, his presence larger than life. His eyes lingered on you as if he expected something. You weren’t sure what. Maybe gratitude, maybe obedience. He said nothing, just watched you with that expression of silent insistence.

“Good morning,” he said in that deep, calm voice of his, but there was something off about it. There was a layer of expectation beneath his words, like he was waiting for something from you.

You ignored him, brushing past him without a second glance. You didn’t want to engage, didn’t want to pretend like everything was okay. But it didn’t matter. They were all around you now, slowly closing in.

Tim was the next to corner you. You could feel his calculating eyes on you the moment you stepped into the kitchen. He had a cup of coffee in hand, but his focus was on you. Just you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, the question seemingly casual but the undertone too sharp, too analytical. It wasn’t just a question, it was a probe, a way for him to gauge how much control he had over you.

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the fridge to grab something that could distract you, something that could make the reality of this house feel a little less like a cage. But the moment your hand touched the door, he was there, standing far too close, watching you, almost breathing down your neck.

“You know,” Tim said, his voice low, “we can talk today. If you want. We need to keep your abilities in check, make sure you’re safe, protected. ” His tone lingered on that last word, like he was reminding you that you were under his watch now.

You hated how calmly he said it. It made your skin crawl.

Steph was next, adding onto what Tim said with her stupid signature smile, "He's right y'know. It's dangerous out there. For you especially."

You ignored them both. Payback for their years of negligence.

Tim just stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning your face. “Fine, be like that,” he muttered, before walking away, but you knew he wasn’t done. He never was.

And then there was Dick. His usual cheerful demeanor didn’t falter as he breezed into the room, but it was too cheerful, too bright. He was pushing something, forcing something, like he was trying to manufacture happiness out of thin air, trying to remind you of who you were, who you used to be.

“Hey! How about we do something today?” he said, his voice far too eager. “We could go out and grab coffee, breakfast, anything. I know you’re probably not feeling it, but you need to get out of this house for a bit.”

You wanted tear him apart for thinking you could just “forget” everything and fall back into some comfortable, happy routine. But you didn’t. Instead, you just nodded stiffly, walking past him without acknowledging his words.

“Come on,” he tried again, following you, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Just drop it, Dick,” you said, your voice like ice. “I’m not going anywhere. Ya'll made that pretty clear.”

His face faltered for just a moment before he plastered that damn grin back on. But you saw it, the frustration and determination behind his eyes. He wasn’t going to stop. None of them were.

Jason leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a smirk you couldn’t quite decipher. “Ah, the princess finally comes out her tower,” he teased. “What? Got tired of throwing shit around in there?"

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the heat in your chest rise. Jason always had a way of pissing you off with his words, making everything seem like a joke, but you knew there was something darker underneath. He wanted to get a rise out of you, he craved it. He wanted you to go back to being his annoying little sister with anger issues.

“Shut up, Jason,” you muttered, turning away from him, not caring that you weren’t hiding your anger anymore. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.”

Jason just laughed, but there was a hint of something softer there, something that felt almost... like concern, buried beneath the sarcasm.

“Stop,” you snapped, but before you could escape, Damian stepped in.

Damian was the most direct, the most unforgiving in his attempts to bond. He stepped into your path without hesitation, his posture rigid and eyes narrowed, as if daring you to push him away.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low, yet intense. “You think you’re some rebellious teenager trying to escape, but you’re not. You don’t get a choice in this.” His words weren’t harsh, they were final, like he had already decided your fate. And you were staying here, whether you liked it or not.

“You’re wrong,” you spat, your voice venomous. "I don’t need you.”

Damian tilted his head slightly, an unsettling calm settling over him. “You’ll need us eventually. Whether you want to or not. And you'll be grateful we never let you go.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t let him see it. Not yet. His audacity was insane. To think that you'd be thankful for being trapped in Gotham. Never.

As you tried to walk past him, you collided with Cass, who was standing silently behind you, her eyes filled with that knowing, unspoken concern. She's so creepy. She didn’t say a word but you could feel her presence, like a weight pressing down on you.

Cass placed a hand gently on your arm, her touch barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to make you freeze.

Why are they acting like this? What changed these two weeks?

"You’re safe here," she said quietly, her words cutting through the tension in a way that made your skin crawl. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command.

You pulled away sharply, nearly punching her, your fists clenched at your sides. “I'm not happy.” you said, more to yourself than to her.

But she didn’t respond. Of course she didn’t. Her eyes just followed you, and that was worse than any words.

Barbara was close by, but she didn’t need to be loud. She never did. She had this way of talking in soft tones that made everything sound so reasonable. So loving.

“You don’t have to keep shutting us out,” she said gently. ��You can talk to us. We just want to make sure you’re okay. All of us. We care about you.”

You felt the weight of her words crash down on you, suffocating you with their sweetness, with their hidden demands. Care. It was just another word for control, for keeping you locked in their world, locked in their gaze. If they cared, they would let you be happy in New York.

“Just stop,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her. “Just... stop.”

You sat in your room for hours again, ignoring everyone.

Bruce had spent the last few days carefully watching you, keeping his distance just enough to make you think you had some semblance of freedom, but now he was ready to step in, to claim his role as your father.

He had promised himself when you left for France, he would make it right. That he would make up for everything he had missed, for every moment he had abandoned you for the greater good of Gotham. But now, as the silence stretched between you two, he was determined to close that distance.

You had just returned to your room after another breakfast you didn’t want to be part of when you heard the knock.

It was Bruce.

“You’re not busy, are you?” he asked, his voice almost too warm, too hopeful.

You shot him a glance, wondering if he truly thought this would work. After everything that had happened, after all the times he had failed you, he still thought a few “father-daughter” moments could make things better.

"I guess not," you replied flatly, stepping aside to let him in, your mind already racing with how to get through whatever this was going to be.

The moment he entered, Bruce seemed to settle, as though he had a plan in mind, one he was eager to execute.

“Good,” he said, looking around the room, his eyes scanning for something, maybe an opportunity. Then, he turned back to you, hands clasped behind his back. “I thought today, we could spend some time together. Just us. It’s been a while since we’ve done something like this, hasn’t it? School starts soon and you'll get busy, you won't have time for me anymore.”

He was trying to joke around.

School. More like prison. The more he mentioned school, the angrier you got. You'd never done something like this. He did it with all his other kids though, with Tiffany. As you thought of her, all ideas of being nice to Bruce, of trying to bond with your father, flew out the window.

The words felt like a slap, and you couldn’t keep the bite from your tone. “Is that what you think this is? Quality time? You really think we’re just gonna pick up where we left off? Think you can change the past with brunch?”

Bruce’s eyes softened for a moment, his expression cracking, but only slightly. The guilt was there, unmistakable, but it didn’t erase the unspoken expectation behind his words. His voice became more gentle, more insistent.

“I know it’s not easy,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something else—something almost pleading, though he would never admit it. “But I want to make this right. You deserve this. You deserve... me. We can go out, maybe catch a movie, grab lunch, talk, whatever you want. I just want to be with you. Like you always talked about.”

You didn’t respond immediately. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as the weight of his words crashed over you. It was nice watching him beg for once. You had always wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted him to be a father, to care for you like he did the others. But that was before you tasted freedom, before you tried love.

Now, the idea of spending time with him felt like a betrayal to everything you had tried to protect: your own independence, your own space, your freedom. You didn’t want to be a part of his perfect little family anymore.

“No.” you muttered, unable to stop the anger from flooding your chest. “You really think that’s going to fix things? You think I just forgot what you did? Because i'm nice sometimes?”

Bruce didn’t flinch at your words, didn’t even show any sign of anger. Instead, he just stepped closer, his presence filling up the room, looming over you like an impenetrable wall. His tone remained patient, almost too controlled, like he was walking on eggshells.

“I know I can’t undo the past,” he said quietly, a trace of regret slipping through. “But I can be here for you now. I won’t make the same mistakes. I promise.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. “You already have.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, the anger bubbling up inside you, but you pushed it back. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Bruce’s eyes softened even further, the guilt twisting in his expression, and for a moment, you saw something else there—desperation. As if he was begging you to let him in, to give him just one chance to prove he wasn’t the same person who had abandoned you for years.

“We could just sit and talk,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “No expectations. No agenda. Just us. I’m not trying to fix you or make everything perfect. I just want to spend time with my daughter.”

Something in you snapped at the mention of daughter. The word that had haunted you for years. The word that had felt like a lie every time he used it. You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your composure.

“No,” you said, your voice flat, cutting through the tension like a knife. “You don’t get it. I don’t want this anymore. I don't want you anymore.”

Bruce’s face faltered, just for a moment, before he recovered. But the hurt was there, tucked in the corners of his eyes. “I'm sorry. I hope you know that.”

You shook your head, not wanting to hear it anymore. The damage was done. He couldn’t erase it. No amount of “father-daughter time” was going to make you forget what it had been like when he wasn’t there for you.

“Stop,” you snapped, taking a step back. “Just stop. You don’t get to do this, Bruce. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like everything is fine. Like everything’s fixed. You’ve ruined it. All of it.”

Bruce opened his mouth, but no words came. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to understand where it had gone wrong.

“I’m just trying to make up for it,” he said quietly, but the sound of it made your stomach churn. The way his voice cracked slightly at the end of the sentence only made it worse.

And you hated yourself for feeling even a little guilty for saying no.

But no. You wouldn’t let him do this. Not again.

“I don’t want your apologies,” you spat, your tone sharp, venomous. “And I don’t want your ‘time.’ You don’t get to play the father now.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked toward the door. You needed to escape. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You were leaving your own room to get away from him.

Bruce’s voice stopped you, and you felt the pull of his desperate plea in the back of your mind. His words clung to you, too heavy, too much. “I'll go, don't leave. This is your room. I just want you to know I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You watched your father walk away, and only after he left did you fall to your bed and cry.

The next days before school were a blur. You spent them locked in your room, alternating between crying on the phone with Ariel, avoiding the family when you went down to sneak food to your room, trying to butter up Bruce and convince him to let you go back to boarding school, and online shopping.

Yet somehow Monday morning you were up at 5:30 getting into the shower.

The thought of returning to Gotham Prep made your stomach churn. How could you go back to a place where you had no true friends? A school where you’d been bullied by half your grade. Where Tim pretended you didn’t exist, Damian and Tiffany ridiculed you in front of everyone, and Duke ignored you like you were invisible. Where you ate lunch in the bathroom, alone and cried in the janitor's closet like a loser.

But you weren't the same girl who walked through those halls last year. No, this year was going to be different. You were different.

Last night, as you scrolled through Tik Tok, a new idea formed in your mind. You’d had enough of being invisible. It was time for a change.

You had a plan.

You found the bleach blonde hair dye in your bathroom, hidden away in the back of a drawer. You didn’t need permission, and you certainly didn’t need anyone to hold your hand.

By the time the dye had set and you’d rinsed it out, you felt like a new person. It was the kind of hair that would make people stop and stare.

You woke at 5:30 and hopped in the shower, you wanted to take your time getting ready. You plugged in your pink dyson and curled your new blonde hair, it would fall into a blow out later in the day, complaining about your family to Ariel and Claire. You spent the next two hours getting ready, perfecting your makeup. You’d learned to contour, learned to do your eyeliner just right, and became a bronzer girl over the summer. You grabbed your favorite Chanel palette and messily applied dark eyeshadow in smoky charcoal, blending seamlessly into the crease of your eyes and eyeliner. You smudged on a bold dark burgundy lipshine that drew attention. You weren’t trying to be anyone but yourself, your new self.

Then came the clothes.

You'd already shortened your Gotham Prep skirt by more than a few inches. It was below your knees and now it showed off the thighs you spent all summer tanning. You wanted to make a statement, and if they didn’t like it, that was their problem. The white blouse, originally oversized, was now form-fitting, you wanted it to give that one Bella Hadid picture. You left the top buttons undone, the tie hanging loosely around your neck in a deliberate, I-don’t-care gesture. You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, reminding you of how much control you were regaining. You looked like the kind of girls you used to call whores last year.

You looked through your drawers for your signature jewelry you collected over the summer and during school. Big gold hoops on your ears, studs in all your other ear piercings, a tiffany heart necklace that rested on your exposed collar bone, and multiple bracelets stacked on each arm, jingling as you moved.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you smiled. You looked good.

Lastly you grabbed your Isabel Marant sneakers, chic and effortless, and slipped them on. They were expensive, but it wasn’t about the price—it was about the look. The vibe. Then, more than few spritzes of perfume. Something sharp, and not too sweet. You wanted to make a lasting impression, to turn heads as you walked.

By the time you were done, you felt invincible. The girl staring back at you was someone who didn’t care what anyone thought. You weren’t going to be bullied anymore. You were going to be the one who dictated the terms.

You walked out of your room, head held high, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Downstairs, the Batfamily was gathered at the breakfast table, doing their usual routine. They all stopped talking the second they saw you.

You’d barely stepped into the room when the heavy silence fell over the table. Bruce looked up, his expression instantly darkening. His lips pressed together in a thin line, his gaze flicking over your appearance.

“Is this what you're wearing?” His voice was tight, a hint of disapproval slipping into the words.

You gave him a look that said everything. “Is something wrong? I thought it was cute.” Your tone was soft, teasing, but with a bite underneath. You weren’t asking for his permission. You were daring him to say something.

Tim, who had been looking at his phone, blinked up at you with wide eyes. He’d been so engrossed in whatever he was reading that he didn’t even seem to know how to respond. His fingers hovered over his screen, unsure whether or not to comment.

“Are you seriously going to school looking like that?” His voice was tight, an edge of surprise and confusion beneath it.

You crossed your arms, leaning back in the doorway. “What? You don’t like it? Your friends might.” You knew how to unsettle him. That much you were sure of. You wanted to push his buttons, make him paranoid.

Dick was the next to react. He put down his coffee, glancing over at Bruce before looking back at you. “I get that you’re, you know, trying something new,” he began carefully, but the unease in his voice was clear. He was trying to be supportive, trying to understand, but it didn’t take much to see how disapproving he felt. “But—”

“But what, Dick?” you interrupted with a sudden change of attitude. “You don’t like it? That’s a shame. It's so crazy I literally never asked.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He simply shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

Jason snorted, clearly not impressed. “You trying to turn heads or get yourself in trouble? Skirt's too short, change that shit.” His voice was low, but it had a sharpness to it now. His gaze scanned you from head to toe, his mouth curving into an almost imperceptible frown.

You weren’t fazed by his dismissive and angry attitude. If anything, it made you want to lean into it more. “I'm not changing, you want alonger skirt? You go put one on and come talk.” You shrugged nonchalantly, your tone saccharine sweet. "And I don't want trouble, but i don't mind it."

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jason drawled, eyeing the large hoops dangling from your ears. “Nice hoops. Real classy.” His lips twitched, mocking the exaggerated size of them. "I didn’t realize big was your thing now."

You smirked, reaching up to tug at one of the hoops, the gesture playful, but intending to piss him off. “Big boys like big things, Jason,” you replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “And you know what they say, the bigger the hoop, the bigger the....” You were quickly cut off before you could finish talking and ruining everyone's apittite.

Damian, ever the hater, set down his cereal with a dramatic flare, slamming it down and glared at you. “You look like you belong in a cheap nightclub, not Gotham Prep. Should we drop you off on the nearest corner?” His words were sharp, cutting—typical Damian, though you could hear the pure anger in his voice.

You chuckled softly, not phased in the slightest. You'd rather be at a cheap nightclub honestly. “I’m just bringing a little fun to Gotham, Damian. You should try it sometime, maybe then you wouldn't be so hateful all the time." Your tone was uninterested, like his insults weren't even worth your time.

Steph and Cass exchanged a look, both clearly unsure of how to react. Cass, as always, seemed more interested in watching you than engaging, while Steph’s gaze flickered between you and the rest of the family. Barbra was just staring at you in disbelief.

“Is it really that bad?” Steph finally asked, though her voice wasn’t quite as gentle as it could have been. There was a nervous edge to it. “I mean, you’re, uh, pulling it off…” She trailed off, clearly unsure how to proceed.

You ignored her, who cares what she thinks? Her and the rest of them are irrelevant. If you like it then so what. Her comment did make your lips twitch into a smile subconsciously though.

Alfred, who’d been quietly observing the exchange, cleared his throat before standing. “Miss, I must say, it’s a rather bold change. But perhaps not one that will be received well by the staff and teachers.” His words were polite, but you could hear the disapproval in the undertones.

You gave him a bright smile, not at all sorry. “I’ll take my chances, Alfred. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I've played this game before.”

Bruce, who had been seething quietly, finally stood up from the table. His usual calm demeanor was replaced with a tense frustration. “Go change. Now.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Make me.”

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, then something else, something more. He clenched his fists for a moment, clearly fighting to maintain control. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time.

“I’m not going to let you walk out of here like that,” Bruce snapped.

You didn’t miss a beat. “You won't let me do anything. I go to school like this or I don't go at all. And since when do you care?” You crossed your arms and stuck your foot out, pouting like a child, staring him down waiting for him to surrender.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, his expression softening ever slightly. “Fine. But you’re pushing it. You're not going like this tomorrow.”

Bruce 0, You 1.

Jason, who had been watching the exchange with interest, chuckled. “You really know how to work him, don’t you?”

You flashed a smile at him, leaning back in your chair as you stood up and grabbed your bag, ready to leave the room. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We're already late. Jason, you driving?” Jason was the most fun, and he wasn't as nosy as Dick or Barbra.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m driving us all today. Come on, let’s go before Dad starts pulling rank.”

With a dramatic sigh, Bruce reluctantly agreed, shooting a last, disapproving look at your outfit before turning toward the door.

The engine of Jason’s car hummed steadily, but the air inside was anything but calm. You had decided to make this ride your moment. If you were uncomfy, you'd make them all feel the same. The others in the car—Damian, Tim, and Duke—were bracing themselves for your usual attitude, though this time you could tell there was a noticeable edge to the tension.

Jason, who was driving, was trying his best to keep his eyes on the road, but you knew he was glaring at you through the rearview mirror. Damian was next to you in the backseat, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, like he was ready to throw down at any second. Tim sat on the other side, buried in his homework, something to do with Gotham Prep’s ever-pressing academic requirements. Nerd.

And Duke? Duke was the least bothered, but you were sure he was mentally rolling his eyes at you the moment you stepped into the car.

You were far too busy with your phone, flipping through TikTok videos and checking your DMs, but every so often, you’d glance at the boys just to see their reactions.

“So…” You leaned forward a little, propping your elbow on the middle console. Your voice was light, casual, but you could feel the energy shift around you. You knew this would get under Jason’s skin. “You think any of the boys at Gotham Prep will notice my glow up? ”

You heard a long, heavy sigh from the driver’s seat before Jason muttered, “She's in that phase huh,"

But you weren’t listening. You were too busy smirking at Tim, who barely looked up from his book. You could feel his eyes narrow, probably out of sheer annoyance. “I mean, it’s inevitable, right?” you continued. “I'm 16 now, I'm better looking. Is there any fresh meat since I left? Anyone interesting, new friends maybe??"

Jason was silent for a moment, but you could see the grip on the steering wheel tightening in his peripheral. He wasn’t going to let you get away with this.

"Listen," Jason said, his voice calm but with that sharp edge he always used when he was trying not to lose his temper. "I don’t want to hear about boys, okay? Not today, not ever."

You blinked dramatically, as if you were the one being attacked. “Oh, come on, Jason, don’t be such a buzzkill. I’m not doing anything. I just wanna know if anyone’s looking.” You reached forward and pressed the button to connect your phone to the car’s Bluetooth, your nails clicking loudly across the screen as you searched for the perfect song to add to the atmosphere.

You knew you were getting to him. Jason was always so serious when it came to boys, always so guarded, especially when it came to you. It was fun getting under his skin. He glanced over his shoulder at you, but you were already half-distracted by your phone.

“Relax, Jase,” you shot back, ignoring his glare. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just curious. It’s just—boys.”

You needed something to stop the ache that came with your new powers.

“Don’t make me pull this car over,” Jason threatened, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror again.

You laughed softly, loving how easily you could provoke him. You leaned back in your seat, stretching out your legs, and noticed Damian watching you like he was deciding whether to strangle you with his own scarf.

“Damian, you’re so serious,” you sigh, you'd been ignoring him lately but you forgot how easy he is to provoke. “You know, you should loosen up. Boys are fun to look at, and to—” You cut yourself off before you could finish the sentence, letting the tension simmer.

Damian’s face twisted in that way he did when he was trying to pretend you didn’t bother him. “I don’t care what you do with boys,” he muttered. “But if you think I’m going to sit in this car while you talk about them like you’re some kind of—”

“Oh, no,” you interrupted with a teasing smile, “Not some kind of what? Some kind of what?” You stretched your legs a little further, drawing more attention to the hem of your skirt as you adjusted yourself in your seat. Making it even shorter now that Bruce wasn't here. You felt the eyes of your brothers boring into you, especially Jason's. “Honestly, Damian, lighten up. If you stopped being such a little grumpy loser all the time, you’d get more attention from girls. You have my looks y'know. ”

Tim, who had been pretending to focus on his homework this whole time, finally looked up from his papers with an exasperated sigh. “Can you not?” he asked, voice strained. “We’ve got school in twenty minutes. We don’t need a whole lecture about boys in the car.”

“Hey, no need to be so dramatic, Tim,” you said, turning your attention to your phone. You found your favorite song, the one that was guaranteed to annoy everyone in the car. “I’m just having fun. It’s not like I’m gonna do anything crazy. I just wanna know who’s gonna be there today."

You were making them all uncomfortable, and you loved it. You could already see Damian’s jaw tightening in the rearview mirror and Jason’s knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. Tim was staring at you like you were a whole new level of annoying. Even Duke rolled his eyes.

But that wasn’t enough. You needed them to be seething.

“I’m telling you right now,” Jason warned, his voice dead serious, “no boys today. No messing around. You’re going to class, and you’re staying focused. I'll check your phone if I have to. Got it?”

You put on your best innocent face, looking up from your phone as if you hadn’t just been causing a small riot in the car. “Okay, okay, Jason. No boys. I'm more into men anyway.”

Damian scoffed again, muttering something about how “pathetic” it was. You just grinned and rolled your eyes.

“Hey, you’re just jealous because girls don’t look at you,” you said, winking at him. “Maybe if you weren’t such a pain in the ass, you’d get noticed more.”

Duke, who had been quietly observing the entire conversation, finally spoke up from the backseat, his tone easygoing but with a hint of amusement. “You got any tips for me? Am I chopped liver”

You rolled your eyes at him, still not over his betrayal. “Glad you’re entertained, Duke. I don't think even I could help you.”

As you said that, you grabbed the aux cord and plugged it into your phone without asking.

Jason let out a sharp sigh, but you just grinned. “I’ve got it from here,” you said as you clicked on Drake’s Hotline Bling. The song blasted as you maxed out the volume. Damian looked like he was about to combust.

“You really are a pain in the ass, aren’t you?” Tim muttered under his breath, trying to focus on his schoolwork again.

You grinned. “I like to think of myself as entertaining.”

Duke nodded his head to the beat, tapping on his phone and Jason’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror, but you could see the playfulness in his face. He was trying not to smile, despite himself.

“I’m just saying, no boys today, no skipping, no trouble” Jason reiterated, trying to keep a semblance of control. “And if I hear anything about you messing around, we’re going back home, got it?”

You leaned back in your seat and stretched again. “Sure, sure, no boys. But just so you know, if i get into "trouble" it’s not my fault.”

Jason didn’t respond.

When you finally arrived at Gotham Prep you sighed, grabbed your bag, straightened out your skirt one last time, and nearly ran away from them so you didn't have to walk in with Duke, Damian, and Tim. “See you later, losers,” you said with a grin, pulling your sunglasses on as you walked away from the car.

Gotham Prep didn't know what's coming.

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[babyangelsky]

I love that Phu was wearing his teddy bear pajamas when he got blown by Cir

And I love it specifically because it flies in the face of a rather unfortunate trend that's always been present but that has been on my mind a lot lately.

A couple of months ago, I came across a post that referred to Teerak from Your Sky as "basically a child" and went in on the show for portraying him in any sort of sexual light and then went in on Muenfah and criticized him for wanting to do anything remotely sexual with Teerak and just—

No. NO. NO!

Listen, I don't give a fuck how someone interprets a character even if I disagree on every possible level. Art is subjective. How someone sees the art they consume and what they get out of it is none of my fucking business.

But there's this awful tendency to conflate cuteness with immaturity and to infantilize any character that exhibits any traits or preferences that can be read as cute. Hell, sometimes even a character's appearance is all it takes for them to be infantilized.

And it's always the same shit. If a character is shy, soft-spoken, bubbly, cheerful, or sweet, they're seen as a child. If they have plushies and enjoy lots of color, they're seen as a child. Act cute? Child. Like cute things? Child. Shorter than their love interest? Child. Younger than their love interest? Child.

Fucking STOP.

The person who made the post I referred to used a screenshot of Teerak hugging his Snoopy plush to somehow justify their interpretation and you know what? LIKING PLUSHIES AND CUTE THINGS DOES NOT MAKE SOMEONE """"BASICALLY A CHILD"""".

Whether or not a character (or a real actual person) likes cute things or happens to be sweet and soft-spoken and shy has nothing to do with how mature they are and it certainly says nothing about their sexuality and sexual desires. I turn 31 years old in just over a week and there are plushies on my bed. I put hearts all over my blog. Liking cute things just means you like cute things! That's all!

Teerak is adorable and colorful and sweet, and he's also a young man who's deliriously in love and HORNY for his boyfriend. He ALWAYS wanted to fuck that man and if he hesitated at first, it was due only to his lack of experience. Nothing else.

Which is partly why this scene:

Was so fucking great to watch. Not just because Teerak wanted to fuck his boyfriend and made his intent crystal clear and took the initiative, but because he was allowed to by the story. @iguessitsjustme wrote a great post about it, go give it a read.

More and more we're seeing BL's where both characters (THE CUTE ONES INCLUDED) are allowed and shown to want each other sexually and it's been amazing to see. Mutual horniness will never not be amazing to see.

Allll of that is why I love that Phukan was in his teddy bear pajamas in his love scene with Cir. Because like Teerak, Phukan is exactly the type of character that gets infantilized and that people get all pearl-clutchy about when he's portrayed doing anything sexual.

Phu is adorable and colorful and he likes being babied and he collects those cute little trinket things I can't remember the name of and he ALSO REALLY WANTS TO FUCK CIRRUS. To quote @poetry-protest-pornography , he was an active and enthusiastic participant in his first blowjob and that's exactly as it should be regardless of what he's wearing or what he likes! He's a full person with a functioning libido and I'm so happy and grateful that the story isn't infantilizing him.

TL;DR, some of ya'll have got to let go of the notion that a character being/acting cute and them experiencing sexual desire are mutually exclusive.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Candy Cane Lane

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: It’s Christmas time and that means buying gifts and attending holiday parties with your friends. You and Scott reach an impasse in your relationship, one that you might not be able to get over. Who is right there next to you when it inevitably crumbles? Bucky. He’s always going to be there.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: free space (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Ah, Christmas. You love the holiday season. Every year back home, you and your parents would decorate the house as much as you could and even put fake snow inside to make it feel like a Winter Wonderland. You’re flying back to your family, Bucky is flying home to New York to be with his sister, Steve is staying inside the loft, and Sam is sailing out to his friends who are living at sea for the next couple of months.

To celebrate the year and to the employees who have done such great work, Disney is throwing a huge office party right before the holidays, and you’re all invited. Steve got the invite a month ago, and you’ve been preparing for it since. There’s just last-minute shopping you need to do because, for the life of you, you don’t know what to get Scott for Christmas.

You two have been dating for just over a month so it’s nothing too serious but you can tell Scott has strong feelings for you. You’re just not sure about your feelings for him. He’s coming off a little too strong for your tastes, but maybe this is what you need to move on from Bucky. He’s been plaguing your dreams as of late. It’s like no matter what you do, who you kiss, or what you tell yourself, he’s the main character in your mind.

At this point, he should be paying rent from how much he’s living inside your head.

The party is this weekend so you only have two days to go shopping for a gift for Scott. He’s going to be at the party and you figured you could exchange gifts while you’re there. What do you get someone you’ve been seeing for a month that you kind of like but are hung up on another man?

You walk out of your room and see all three roommates inside the kitchen munching on the pie you made.

“Hey, that was supposed to be for tonight,” you say. All three of them look up like they’re kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Whatever. Look, I need help. Can you guys come with me to go last-minute shopping? Please?” Bucky looks like he’d rather do anything else, Sam looks at the ceiling to avoid your eyes, and Steve takes another slow bite of the pie. “I’ll buy you food.”

A chorus of “Yeah, alright” goes around, and you grin in triumph. The mall is packed with people rushing to get presents and families with kids shouting and complaining that they’ve been out too long. Steve and Sam break off from the group to find the best food places while you and Bucky browse the many stores.

“So, I thought you got all of your shopping done.”

“I did. I don’t have a gift for Scott.”

“You’re getting him a present? You’ve only been dating a month.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Should I not get him one?

Bucky loves how big your heart is. “No, no, I think it’s nice you’re getting him something. What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. I think jewelry is out of the question. I think a watch is too big. I can get him something practical. Maybe a coffee maker? I always go overboard with presents, especially when I don’t know the person that well. It’s either too big or not big enough. I need your help.”

“Come on, I know you, Y/N. You already had a present in mind. What was it?”

“Fine,” you sigh. You take out a card from your purse. “It was a certificate for piping hot sex, but now I’m not so sure.”

Bucky takes the card from you and grins as he reads it. “I’m keeping this. This is great.”

“No, you’re not!” You try to grab it but he holds it just out of reach. He moves the card up higher when you start to jump for it, but he’s too damn tall. You fall against Bucky in laughter, and he holds you by your waist to keep you steady. You look into his eyes with a sultry gaze, and his arm lowers just slightly enough for you to grab the card. “Ha!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky smirks.

You two walk into a store that sells all kinds of things like clothing, toys, shoes, jewelry, etc.

“Okay, if you were my boyfriend, what would you want?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Bucky pauses in thought. He knows what he would want. Instead, he’s thinking about how you said my boyfriend and not a boyfriend. Do you even like Scott as much as you say you do? He often wonders what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.

“Well, I’d want another motorcycle helmet. Mine is getting pretty worn down, and the lenses are getting scratched.”

You walk around the store as you talk, and you notice something in one of the aisles. You grab the box of magnets and hold them up to him with a smile. “How about I get these so you can decorate your arm?”

Bucky looks away with a smile. Another twenty minutes inside the store, and you find the perfect gift for Scott. A plush realistic heart that throbs as it pumps blood, and it even makes a squishy noise that represents the blood flowing through it. It’s perfect for a science teacher who specializes in anatomy. By the time you two are done, Steve and Sam already have a food place picked out.

“So, did you find something?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, with Bucky’s help.”

“Good luck to Scott. Bucky is the worst gift giver, ever.”

“I don’t know. He’s not all bad,” you grin at Bucky.

After a nice lunch, you start the drive back to the apartment. It’s a straight shot but you decide to take the scenic route through the neighborhood that shows off all of their lights. It’s called Candy Cane Lane. All of the houses already have started decorating and will be done by tonight.

“Why are we here, Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“I wanted to show you this place. It’s a whole festival of lights that they do every year. It’s beautiful, and I really want to see this before we all go to the airport.”

“I don’t think I can come to this. It’s imperative that don’t miss this flight. My sister is going to kill me if I do.”

“Oh, okay,” you say.

Yes, you’re sad that you might not be able to show this to Bucky but you’re not going to let him miss his flight.

“Is Natasha going?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” you smirk. “She’ll be right over as soon as she finishes a showing on a house. Did you get something for her?”

“Maybe,” Steve mumbles.

You get back home and text Scott to come over. You’d rather give him his gift now than wait until the party. If he hates it, at least only you will know. Bucky watches you walk off with your eyes on your phone, and he sighs to himself. He breaks apart from the group and walks into his room. The only person to who he hasn’t given a gift yet is you. He’s not sure if he’s ever going to give it to you, not when you’re with Scott.

Bucky opens the small box to reveal a necklace that has your birthstone on it. It’s a stone that’s wrapped in a vine-like fashion that then turns into the chain. He doesn’t know why he got this knowing you two aren’t dating. All he knows is that he took one look at it and knew it belonged on your neck.

An hour goes by before Scott comes over. You immediately take him to your room so that you can have some privacy.

“I hope this isn’t too forward but I got you something for Christmas.”

“I got you something, too,” he smiles.

He pulls out an envelope and you pull out the small gift bag the heart is in. You seem surprised at the envelope but take it nonetheless. Scott waits patiently for you to open your gift first, so you open the envelope in curiosity. They’re tickets. Once your brain comprehends what’s in your hands, you feel your body stiffen.

“Wow. Music festival tickets in Copenhagen. I don’t know what to say. Thank you,” you stutter. “I feel like an asshole for what I got you now.” Scott opens his present and gasps when he sees the plush heart. “I know, it’s nothing like this, but--”

“I love it,” he smiles. “It’s funny and quirky and sweet, just like you. That’s why I love it.” He doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “I love you.”

All the blood drains from your face. Scott pulls you into a hug and rubs your back, but you can barely move. Uncomfortable silence fills the room. Say something! Scott is waiting for you to say something!

“Thank you,” you say awkwardly and pat his back.

What the fuck. Out of all the things you could have said, you just had to say ‘thank you’? If Scott never knew how you felt, he does now. You like him, kind of, but you don’t love him. He left right after you exchanged gifts and will meet you at the party later. Bucky immediately knew something was wrong when you didn’t say a single word on the ride to the party. He wants to ask you about it but he knows it’s best to wait for you to come to him.

Steve and Natasha are already in the lobby when you arrive. He left to give her her present and they rode here together.r They might be dating, you’re not sure. Natasha would have told you otherwise but she hasn’t. They’re cute together and you know Steve won’t break her heart like all the other guys before, and Natasha is definitely going to make Steve work for it.

Natasha tucks her hair behind her ear, giving you a great view of the earrings you got her. “You’re wearing my present!” You pull her in for a hug and immediately get a noseful of a strong perfume. “Oh, my God, what is that smell?”

“The perfume Steve got me.”

“Oh, how nice of him,” you nod.

Scott shows up minutes later, but the air is awkward and thick. Bucky looks between you two but can’t quite put his finger on what might have happened. Did he say something? Did you? Did he do something? He’ll beat him the fuck up if he hurt you.

Once everyone gets here, you head upstairs to where the party is. There are already a lot of people here, so it’s easy to distract yourself from your situation with Scott.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get some drinks for us.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You’re already walking away before he can get the word out. Instead of getting drinks, you immediately hide in the corner where you can see everything. You’ll be able to see if Scott is coming or not. ‘Thank you’ is one of the worst responses when someone says they love you. You wanted to say it back but you can’t say something you don’t feel.

“Hiding?” You look up and notice Bucky standing right next to you. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“Oh, hey, Buck.”

“Why are you hiding? What happened between you and Scott?”

“He told me he loved me, but I can’t say it back so I said ‘thank you’. I don’t know what to do now,” you sigh. “I have always been the one to love more. I love so much but I can’t seem to get there with him. It’s not even about love at this point. I want to like him but I just… don’t. Not as much as I should, anyway.”

“If you don’t have feelings for him, you have to tell him?”

“This is the worst time of year to break up with someone. First, there’s Christmas, then New Year’s, then Valentine’s Day, and then President’s Day.”

“It’s hard to argue with that logic,” he nods. “Still, you’ll hurt him more if you don’t.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks, Bucky.”

You leave his side in search of Scott when you see Natasha go into the ladies’ room. You turn and follow her inside the bathroom. She’s at the sink wiping some wet paper towels onto her skin.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to wipe off this perfume stench. Steve is sweet but this stinks.”

“He really likes you.”

“I know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I could.”

“He’s a good guy, Nat. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“I know.” You two slide down the wall and sit on the tile away from the door. “So, do you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Scott?” You look at her and she rolls her eyes. “Come on, you can barely look at him.”

“He told me he loves me but I couldn’t say it back. Me. I don’t know. Maybe I should just make it work. I can learn to love him, right? He’s sweet.”

“Being sweet isn’t enough to keep someone around. Love is. If you don’t love him, he should know so he can find someone who does.”

“It’s only been a month, Nat. He shouldn’t be in love already.”

“Some people love harder than others.”

“Yeah. I’ll break up with him after the holidays. I’m not a monster.” You get up and pull the door open. “You still stink, by the way.”

You smirk when you hear her curse. You’re not sure what time it is since your phone died, but the party is still crowded with people so it can’t be that late. You pass by the balcony and notice Bucky and Scott outside hugging. Bucky is not a hugger. You push the door open and pop your head out.

“What’s going on here? Why are you guys hugging?”

They pull away from each other and Scott looks like someone punched his puppy right in front of him, and Bucky looks like he’s in pain… emotional pain.

“We’re just… talking,” Scott says.

“Talking?” You look at Bucky. “You hate talking.”

“Yeah, we’re talking about… about sports.”

There is a pause between all three of you, and you look at Bucky. He takes one look at those big beautiful eyes and folds immediately. He has to come clean.

“That’s a lie,” Bucky sighs. “I told him you didn’t love him.”

“What?” you gasp. “Bucky!”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Scott tries to say.

“No, it’s not okay. You had no business telling him that!” you yell. “What the hell!”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just gonna…” Bucky walks to the balcony door and tries to open it but it won’t budge. “No, come on. This is my nightmare. Come on!”

“We should talk,” Scott sighs.

“Yeah.”

You and Scott sit down on the bench while Bucky still tries to get inside the office. He doesn’t want to break the glass so he continually knocks on it in hopes someone will hear it.

“Bucky shouldn’t have told you that but it’s true. I… don’t love you.”

“Okay,” Scott nods slowly. “So, what now?”

“Look, I like you. I do, but I guess I’m just a bit overwhelmed. It’s only been a month, Scott.”

“I understand. I know about your relationship with Jack, and I respect those boundaries, but I thought we were feeling the same thing for each other.”

“We were… we are, but I think you’re feeling them more than me.” Bucky knocks against the glass noisily, and you glare at him. “Sit down and shut up, Bucky. This is your fault.” He frowns but does what he’s told. “Look, Scott, I got hurt and I’m trying really hard not to get hurt again.”

The tension is cut with the ringing of Bucky’s phone. You and Scott look at Bucky who has a red face of embarrassment. He takes out his phone and sees his sister, Rebecca, calling him.

“I’m sorry. Just one second.” Bucky answers the call. “Hey, Bec. … Yeah, I’ll be there … No, don’t worry. … Seriously, I’ll be there. I still have time. I gotta go. … Okay, bye.” He looks at you. “Continue.”

“We can keep going but I think we should take it slow.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky groans. “How hard is it to take it slow?”

“Bucky,” you growl.

“Yeah, I’ll shut up.”

“I don’t want to slow down… Not with you. It’s not what I want. If you need to, I don’t think I can do this with you.”

“So, I guess this is it, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay,” you nod.

Suddenly, the balcony door opens and Sam pops his head outside. “Have any of you seen a small child running around?”

“Yes! Sam, you’re my hero!”

Bucky jumps up and dashes inside, and you sigh. After this, you’re not in a partying mood anymore. Candy Cane Lane is also well past closing so all there is left to do is go home and prepare for your flights. You, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Steve are in one car with Bucky driving. He keeps looking over at you with your head on the window. It’s his fault for running his big mouth and he’s not going to keep disappointing you.

“What flight leaves at 1 am?” Sam asks.

“The kind I can afford,” Bucky answers. Again, Bucky sneaks a peek at you. He can’t end the night like this. “There’s something we gotta do first.”

Bucky does a complete one-eighty and drives in the opposite direction of the airport.

“What are you doing?”

Bucky doesn’t answer until he gets to Candy Cane Lane, but all the lights are off. “I screwed up everything. We were supposed to come to this.”

You get out of the car just like everyone else and stare down the dark and desolate road.

“Let’s just go home, Bucky.”

“No, this is Christmas. We came to see the lights.”

“What are you going to do? It’s one in the morning.”

“Hey! Turn on your lights!” Bucky takes off toward one of the houses and knocks on the door rapidly. “Come on, I got a girl out here that wants to see the lights!” A slight smile makes its way to your face. “Turn on the lights!”

Steve, Sam, and Natasha join in and yell at the top of their lungs to turn the damn lights on. You’re the only one who is silent because you can’t stop looking at Bucky. ONe by one, the lights turn on and the inflatables start to rise again. In this moment, everything disappears until the only person you can see is Bucky.

He walks over to you and smiles softly and with adoration. He reaches into his breast pocket and pills out a small box and hands it over to you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You open it to reveal your birthstone encased in vines that make up the rest of the chain. You gasp and touch the stone delicately as if it will shatter under your touch.

“I love it so much. Thank you.”

You pull him in for a hug, and he slides his hands down your back. He did a dick thing by telling Scott how you feel, but he is most certainly making up for it now. You pull back from Bucky only enough to create only a few inches of space between you two. He glances down at your lips but doesn’t make a move.

“You’re welcome.”

x

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[kpopsexstories]

One-shot #20: NCT Jisung "Mind Blowing" Sex with Haechan's Sister Pt. 1/3

This is the 20th story of my broader Mixed One-shots series. It's a response to this request: "Can I request a story about NCT Jisung having sex with Haechan sister, but these days Jisung is more experienced and better, which leads to mind-blowing sex. (This is loosely related to Jisung's mmse story.)Please!!"

Celebrity: NCT Jisung

Sex Content: Intense foreplay, Getting naked together, Licking/eating pussy.

Type of Sex: MEDIUM

Word Count: 3.3k (8.6k including all three parts)

This is Part 1 of 3 which includes some great and intense foreplay. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow (February 4, 2025) and that's where the great sex happens 😉

Timeline: This story can be read on its own but relates to my previous stories about Jisung and Haneul, Haechan's sister. They first had sex in the Most Memorable Sexual Experience of Jisung Part 1-2. Then I gave you a timeline of how Jisung grew up in the two years that followed (Jisung 'Boy to Man').

There is a gap, about when they hooked up again for the first time after those two years. That's a story I haven't written and a reunion that is left to your imagination.

In this new story, however, I imagine that Jisung and Haneul have already started a new sexual relationship. The reunion reignited an old spark between them, and now Haneul comes to Seoul for “a visit” 😏🍆🍆🍆

They're older, more experienced, and want one thing: sex. But is sex really all, or is there more between them? That's where we're at now in their relationship 😊

Haechan was a great excuse for Haneul to come visit Jisung in Seoul. Her brother knew about the sexual relationship she had with his friend, but she still lied for no reason and claimed it was Haechan she wanted to see. The truth remained unspoken between them, but both siblings knew the facts: Haechan was just a bonus, and Jisung was the real reason for her sudden eagerness to travel.

Since their last encounter Haneul had been unable to stop thinking about the boy who once had a major crush on her. He had grown into a fine man, and catapulted into adulthood, though she had always considered him mature beyond his years.

The youthful infatuation that once existed between them, years prior, might no longer exist and would probably never return. But they had found each other in other ways, and for the past two months Haneul had desperately been craving more.

Jisung had consumed her mind. He had kept her awake at night. He was like a drug she could no longer have, and from which she suffered severe withdrawals. In a way, you could say that the tables had turned.

Except in her case, she could have the drug. It was available whenever she wanted it. All she had to do was come and get it.

Jisung no longer felt the same strong and painful withdrawal symptoms he once did. There was a time when thinking about her naked body caused him heartache, yet he thought about her every day nonetheless. That was two years ago, and a lot had happened since then.

But he was genuinely excited about the visit. A sweet, cute girl was going out of her way to see him, and considering the sex they had before, he could imagine what her visit would entail. It had all but been confirmed that they would sleep together.

The time when Haneul hardly even replied to his horny and desperate texts was ancient history. Now, they texted and even video called almost daily, and it was not unusual that their chats turned dirty. They were adults with needs, a need the other could fulfill. Jisung was a couple of years younger than her, but he certainly wasn't a teenager anymore.

In short, they had already had fun in bed on several occasions and both wanted to do it again. And as much as Haechan knew why Haneul wanted to visit even though he had never been told so, Jisung knew it too. That's why he was so happy and giddy on the day of her arrival.

Chenle made fun of him for it but was glad for his friend. Haechan made a snarky comment in passing, still without stating the obvious real reason for the visit. And Jisung tried to act calm and indifferent, though everyone could tell he was not.

To him it was, by all accounts, a great day indeed.

Haneul arrived in the late afternoon. Haechan picked her up at the station. At the dorm Jisung was waiting on the living room couch, where he acted cool and pretended to not be waiting at all.

Because the nature of her visit had not been explicitly confirmed, however, neither Haneul nor Jisung wanted to make the first move. There was a small risk that they were making assumptions and that their thoughts were just wishful thinking. Flirty and dirty messages were one thing, but the fact that they had sex in the past was not a guarantee that they would again.

Jisung especially suddenly started to doubt everything now that the moment had come, and wondered if, maybe, they were not on the same page after all. Maybe she was really just there to visit her brother like she said.

Making a move and being rejected would be a total embarrassment. Especially since they weren't alone for the rest of the evening. It would be difficult to find the time and space to do what he really wanted to do, and a rejection in front of everyone would be painful.

That said, their months of daily texting – and weekly sexting – combined with their history of sleeping with each other meant that there were bottled up desires of a sexual nature. The attraction between them was undeniably strong, and from the moment Haneul walked through the door the sexual tension weighted heavy in the air. Everyone in the room could feel it.

The climax of this first evening of Haneul's visit happened in the hours before bedtime. Jisung was seated on the couch chatting with their common friends – his bandmates. Haneul sat down beside him, leaning closer and closer to him with each passing minute. Jisung put an arm on the backrest behind her, and before long it was clear to every dreamer present that there was – still – something going on between them.

The friend group found it interesting and fun, especially considering that – more than two years ago – some of the boys had walked in on Jisung and Haneul in a hotel room, still naked after they had sex. The relationship between the previously innocent maknae and Haechan's twin sister had been a hot topic behind closed doors ever since.

This first night of the visit was a fun and wonderful time. But the sexual tension was building up to the point that it was becoming unbearable. And the fact that nothing further happened between them was a major disappointment.

That night Jisung went to bed with butterflies in his stomach and his heart beating out of his chest. The fact that Haneul was sleeping just behind the wall was a fact that suddenly occupied every part of his mind. Sleeping became almost impossible, with such a strong attraction pulling him and radiating from the wall.

Okay, maybe he still carried some of those youthful emotions of young love in him.

He looked at Chenle who was snoring at the other side of the room. For the first time in his life he wondered if it wasn't about time they all got their own apartments. Had he been living alone he could have brought Haneul over as much as they pleased, and it would have been so much easier to figure out her thoughts and intentions. That would have been a dream come true.

As he lay awake he became hard, and he couldn't stop thinking about one thing: what amazing things he could do with Haneul if only they had some privacy.

*****

When Jisung woke up on a lazy Saturday morning – on Haneul's second day in the capital – he was immediately curious to learn where she was and what the day might bring. He genuinely believed that she was there to see him, not her brother, and that they'd likely spend the day together. But her visit was rather spontaneous and hasty and no plans had been made.

The sense of uncertainty returned, and he braced himself for disappointment. If he got up and she wasn't there, that would feel like a kick in the gut.

If she was around, he had several ideas he thought he could suggest, places in the city he could show the countryside girl. The last thing he wanted was for the trip to become awkward or boring for her, or for her to end up spending all of it with Haechan. They had to do something together.

I'll let you in on a totally-not-secret secret: They never made it out of the apartment, because they were too busy fucking each other's brains out. In case you were wondering, that's exactly where this story is going.

Jisung stayed in bed longer than intended, contemplating all of his options. He was perhaps a bit afraid, unwilling to face Haneul while the others were around. Chenle had already left the room for breakfast, and he was unsure of who else was lingering outside the door. He listened intently for sounds and hints while his friends shuffled about on their rare day off.

Eventually he did get out of bed, simply because he couldn't stay away from her any longer. And once he did he was surprised to find the apartment completely empty. It certainly hadn't been just half an hour ago, when he listened and imagined what everyone was doing.

It didn't feel like a kick in the gut though. In fact he wasn't worried at all. Surely she would return soon enough, because she didn't want to be away from him either.

At least that's what he convinced himself in the moment, as he walked in his pyjama's through the deserted apartment, got himself something to eat in the kitchen, and sat down in the living room in complete silence.

They had probably all gone out to do their own thing. For a moment he felt a little left out, the way his friends had left without saying a word to him. But he would soon understand why he was left alone.

When he finished his breakfast he peeked inside Haechan's room, fully expecting to not find anyone there. He did find someone though. There was a mattress on the floor, the one Haneul had spent the night on, but it was empty. Haneul was instead lounging on Haechan's bed, wearing an over-sized t-shirt and pyjama shorts, aimlessly playing on her phone. She had been waiting for Jisung to wake up for hours.

“Oh, hi,” Jisung exclaimed.

“Hi,” Haneul said and her face lit up in a big, beautiful smile. She had heard him in the kitchen but wanted to play it cool, just as he did the night before.

“Where's Haechan?” Jisung asked.

“They went out.”

“Why didn't you go with them?”

He was hoping for a specific answer and Haneul gave it to him: “I was waiting for you,” she said and kept on smiling.

Jisung's heart started racing. He quickly entered the room and sat down by Haneul's feet. She pulled them up to give him space, but gradually relaxed as they started talking. Before long they were deep in conversation and her feet were in his lap.

He casually put his hand on them while they conversed. They sat there for maybe ten minutes, first making smalltalk but then joking and laughing together.

It felt pretty great. Things had always been this easy between them. But Jisung really only had one thing on his mind: they were alone, and whether that was by design or a lucky coincidence, it was a golden opportunity to act upon their desires.

Jisung was the one to finally make a move, something which would have been unthinkable just a few years ago. He leaned in closer and closer, his hand wandering higher up Haneul's bare leg. The attraction radiated from her skin to his heart which put all his senses on high alert. Before long he was on his side next to her on the bed, and when the gap between them was so insignificant it was no longer an obstacle, he closed the gap and kissed her.

The kiss was soft but long. Haneul's heart skipped a beat and she sank into the mattress. It took them both a second to realize that this really was happening.

Once it did she slid down the bed and Jisung pulled himself higher. They started making out, long and passionately, and explore each other's bodies with their hands. Over the course of another ten minutes their touches became firmer, their hands wandered further, and their bodies rubbed together. The sexual desire was so strong they forgot all about their friends and the outside world.

Jisung was hard within seconds of that first intimate kiss. Haneul took longer to get wet but got there when Jisung touched her boobs over the t-shirt. The way he felt her and put his lips on hers while being so sweet and funny did great things to her, and by the time he stuck his fingers inside her shorts she couldn't wait for him to fuck her.

This moment was indeed why Haneul had come in the first place. It was why Jisung wanted her there. Forget outdoor activities, forget Seoul, and forget their friends. There was nowhere they'd rather be right now than right here, locked in an empty apartment, cozied up in bed together, with their hands all over each other.

And with their history and experience this wouldn't be like any time before. The sex that was about to follow would be the greatest sex Jisung had ever had. If he were to tell you about his most memorable sexual experience today, he wouldn't tell you about his first time with Haneul. He would tell you about this time.

As they made out, passionately rocking their bodies close together in the sheets, and Jisung fingered his girl while pressing and rubbing his bulge and boner against her hot body, the pleasurable sensation in Jisung's pants became so strong pre-cum made his pyjama's wet.

Haneul felt a similar sensation in her shorts. She was so wet by now Jisung's fingers were soaked. She was fully immersed in their intimate bubble, and Jisung's fingers made her pant and squirm on the bed.

Sex with other guys was good, but with Jisung there was a deeper connection. He made her feel like a teenager again, and despite the addition of experience it was about so much more than just his dick and their body contact.

She gradually spread her legs wider and wider, while Jisung pressed closer and harder against her pelvis and body. They kissed and touched with an ever-increasing lust and intensity, and finally their expectations of the trip were confirmed.

Jisung pulled his fingers out. He raised his lower body and climbed on top of his lover who wrapped her arms around his back and shirt. It felt like they were back in Manilla doing something exciting and slightly forbidden, yet at the same time things were very different. It wasn't like Manilla at all.

The final tipping point came when Jisung stuck his hand inside Haneul's shirt and felt her naked breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra. Simultaneously he pressed his pelvis against hers which sent a powerful shiver through her body. It prompted her to push him off her and abruptly sit up straight.

Jisung kept his lips on hers until she was out of reach, at which point he moved down to kiss her stomach. She panted while she pulled the shirt over her head, and Jisung looked up and on in amazement as she exposed herself to him.

She tossed the shirt on the matress on the floor. He quickly reached up and felt her breasts again. Then he sat up too and attacked her chest, shoulders and face with his lips and tongue.

Haneul kept panting and started tugging on his clothes. She unbottoned the front of his pyjama shirt and slid it over his shoulder, revealing his smooth skin. He hastily undid the last button and opened the shirt wide, exposing his chest and flat tummy.

They kissed and giggled while he held out his arms and she pulled the shirt over them. It soon joined her t-shirt on the floor. Then Jisung, shirtless and horny ass hell, moved away from her and got out of bed.

They kept giggling and smiling wide as he rushed to the door and locked it. He was sure they'd have plenty of time but why risk it? He wanted all the time alone with Haneul he could get – naked, in bed, with his dick deep inside her warm pussy. It was the moment they had both been dreaming of.

“Condoms?” Haneul asked while she raised her ass and pulled her shorts down. She wasn't wearing any panties either.

Jisung abruptly stopped. He grinned and turned around again. His pants were hanging low, revealing the seams of his boxers, and his boner created a big, narrow lump on the loosely fitted fabric.

He unlocked the door and left the room with haste without saying a word. He rushed to his bedroom and found a box. He brought the whole thing with him, but when he returned to his lover he had already unwrapped a condom.

When he saw Haneul smiling and flaunting her body completely in the nude on the bed, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Wow,” he said. “You're so beautiful.”

Haneul felt all warm and fuzzy inside. She couldn't stop grinning. Jisung was genuinely mesmerized, and for the thousand’ time in his life he thought: I can't believe I get to touch her*.*

Of course he hadn't actually touched her that many times, but he had dreamt of it. And once his mind had processed the sight and his body was responding again, he locked the door and took off his pants.

Their eyes met and they smiled wide when he walked naked back to the bed. Haneul admired his dick and slim figure. As she pulled herself higher, eagerly awaiting Jisung's warm return, she realized that she had a bit of a crush on him.

It was a fact she had been in denial about, but which had become harder to avoid in the two months since their big reunion.

Jisung sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed his boner. Haneul looked on and enjoyed the show when he put the condom on. Then he crawled on all four toward her, and she spread her legs wide as they lay down and kissed.

His body sank onto hers. His lips wandered from her mouth to her neck. She panted softly when he continued down her chest and stomach, his hands gliding down her sides and his dick waving in the wair between their bodies, just above and below her dripping pussy.

Its presence lingered. She felt the heat between their organs. His lips on her skin and the hard dick pointing right at her hole made her so fucking horny.

But she had to wait for it a little longer. Jisung straightened his legs behind him and lay down, to bury his head between Haneul's thighs. She raised her hips in pleasure when he kissed her folds. He briefly looked up at her, proud of the intense experience he was clearly giving her, and was encouraged by seeing her squirm.

While his kisses intensified he spread his legs as not to fall off the foot of the bed, and moved his ass up and down to rub the boner against the mattress. It felt so good, so hot, and Haneul was amazing.

He ate her out like he'd done it a million times before. Haneul was surprised by how good and confident he had become with his mouth and tongue. He altered between softly engulfing her folds with his lips, sucking hard, blowing gently on her clit, and licking her wet vagina at a depth just deep enough to make her want to beg for more.

“Ahh, Jisung, fuck that's good!” she moaned. “Mmm, yeah, yeah, yeaaah!”

It all sent Haneul into a frenzy. She jolted and squirmed, panted and moaned, and quickly showed Jisung that what he was doing to her was incredible.

“Mm, ahhhh, Jisung! Mm, MMM, YES!”

Pre-cum was once against seeping out from his dick, this time accumulating in the condom. The sensation was intense, and all his senses were activated by the sexual activity.

He wanted to fuck her, and he wanted to fuck her good. In the next part of this story he did 🥵🔥🍆💦😏

-> Part 2 will be posted tomorrow, February 4th, 2025.

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Four

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The sheets were cold, warmth fleeting a long time ago, and I cuddled the pillow closer to my chest as I tried to think it was something else. 

Someone else. 

Tears had stained the pillowcase multiple times and no matter how many times it was washed, the tears remained. The soft, quiet sobs that I tried to keep to myself, hoping I wouldn’t wake the others. But I knew that no matter how quiet I was, there was always one person there to help dry the tears. 

The first few nights were the roughest, crying out his name in my dreams. Nightmares. I couldn’t sleep because I would always see his face, his ghost haunting me. I refused to leave the room because I didn’t want to see anyone. Nat had tried bringing me something to eat a couple of times but when she came back hours later to the untouched plate still in the same spot outside the door, she gave up. 

We were all grieving, I knew that, but they didn’t know that I was grieving something extra. No one understood the pain I had gone through. 

No one. 

I knew that they were all busy looking for Thanos to undo the snap but they were all idiots. We barely made it out alive and now they want to go after him again? With less numbers? Half of the world had vanished in the snap, it was a ghost town out there. 

Again, idiots. 

Rolling over to the other side of the bed, my broken eyes glanced up to the adjacent bathroom in the room. The body stood in front of the mirror, contemplation clear on his face. He looked from the mirror to the object in his hand. His muscles tensed underneath his tank top as he leaned closer to the mirror, making his decision. 

Once finished, he looked towards my reflection in the mirror. His sad eyes raked over my body, a sigh leaving his lips. He knew that trying to get me out of bed to eat something or even take a shower was a pointless argument. I only did things on my terms, when I wanted. 

But with the broken state of myself in front of him, he knew that he couldn’t allow me to continue on like this. 

The shower had turned on with a start causing my body to jump at the noise. 

Silence was still tangled between us as he gently pulled me to my feet. I tried to fight against him but after weeks of fighting, I was tired. 

“Steve,” I muttered. 

“Don’t!” He demanded. 

Without another word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and led me towards the bathroom. He motioned towards the shower with a quick nod. 

“I’ll give you five minutes. When you’re finished, we’re going to the common room to eat something.” 

Once alone, I reluctantly stripped out of my clothes, letting the warm water cascade down over my body. The warm water had instantly relaxed the ache in my muscles and I silently cursed myself for not trying this earlier. 

Steve was the one who had helped me through the hell the last few weeks had become. I tried to sleep alone the first few nights but after the third night of screams for Bucky, Steve had brought me to his room. He refused to let me deal with this loss alone. 

We were never intimate. We did share a bed but that was it. He wouldn’t allow whatever lingering feelings he had left for me get in the way of me trying to heal. 

If it wasn’t for Steve, I would have put a bullet in my brain 21 days ago; the night Bucky disappeared. 

“Y/N?” 

I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and shut off the water, letting Steve know that he was good to come inside. 

“Natasha bought you some more clothes,” Steve mentioned while setting another bag of clothes next to the other six bags. 

The only clothes I had chosen to wear were Bucky’s shirts, hoping that the scent would be enough to make me think he was actually here. 

It didn’t. 

I nodded to Steve while sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes immediately connecting to the picture frame on the end table. 

Bucky and I in Romania, all those years ago. My fingers played with the necklace he had bought for my birthday. I never took it off. 

“I’ll let you get dressed.” 

Steve went to walk away but stopped when I reached for his hand. 

“You can stay. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom,” I stated. 

He nodded and I could feel his eyes on my back as I hesitantly grabbed some clothes from the bags that Natasha had bought. 

Once I had completely dressed, I mentioned to Steve that he could uncover his eyes. He had walked into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame to watch me. 

I stood in front of the mirror, grimacing at my broken state. The circles under my eyes had darken and my hair was starting to dry in a knotted mess. Running a brush through it, I peaked at Steve through the mirror. 

“Thank you.” 

All he did was nod in response. 

“Are you hungry?” He questioned. 

I shook my head. “I don’t want to see anyone.” 

“They’re worried about you, Y/N.” Steve said. “They haven’t seen you since we came back to the compound.” 

“I know, Steve.” I sighed, turning myself to face him. 

I leaned against the sink and crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t look any of them in the eye. I understand that they’ve also lost people they loved but knowing what I lost.” 

My words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. 

Steve knew, however, and pulled me into his embrace. “You don’t have to tell them.” 

“It’s not fair, Steve.” I looked into his eyes, the bare skin of his face smelling like fresh aftershave. “The only piece I had left of Bucky disappeared along with him.” 

He gently placed a hand over my stomach, ghosting over the place where mine and Bucky’s unborn baby used to grow. His lips parted to speak but closed when the tower began to shake, almost as if an earthquake was happening. 

Before I could argue, Steve was pulling me along with him towards the main common hall of the Avengers Compound. 

I watched as Tony lay in one of the hospital beds in the med bay of the compound, Pepper stuck to his side like glue. 

He had been floating in space for the last twenty-three days but was saved by a new friend, Carol Danvers. 

Or Captain Marvel as she called herself. 

Tony said that he had fought Thanos on his home planet, before he showed up to Wakanda, ultimately losing in the end, just like we had. 

“This is stupid,” I muttered to the remaining members of our team. “We went after him with double the army and we still lost!” 

Steve sighed. “We have to try, Y/N.” 

“To what, kill him?” I scoffed. “We tried that!” 

“You didn’t have me last time.” 

My eyes snapped over towards the new blood of the room. 

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked Carol. 

“I know some people who might,” she stated. 

“Don’t bother, I know exactly where he is.” 

The other new blood, a robot named Nebula, spoke this time. From the brief introductions, I gathered that she was the daughter of Thanos. If it wasn’t for Steve stopping me, she would have been burnt to ash the second those words came from her. 

“So he’s retired to a planet?” Rhodey asked. 

“He used the stones again,” Nat said, astonished. 

I couldn’t believe that we were even discussing this and I couldn’t believe that I had ultimately agreed to it. Even if there was a slight chance that I would be able to bring Bucky back, along with everyone else that had vanished, I owed it to him to at least try. He wouldn’t want me to sit on my ass anymore; I needed to fight.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” I cursed while leaving them all behind. 

[thelonestarinthesky]

³. ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵖᵗ ¹

⁺₊✦₊　　

pairing: senku x f!reader

chapter 3 of 2/2-i.senku

a/n: I'll be posting requests soon

⁺₊✦₊　　

Hanging out with the [H/C] haired girl wasn't actually half-bad; sure, she was annoying, but she had a passion for whatever Senku was reading or working on.

Since she was homeschooled, Senku always came over after school, not even bothering knocking, which Byakuya has tried to get him to at least be polite every time he dropped him off.

[Name] didn't really mind, she had grown used to waiting for the doors to the mansion to burst open after 4. Senku strolled inside like he owned the place before dragging her to the library to finish off where they started. While he was reading, she would be drawing on a piece of paper, and once he was done, she would sit quietly as he yaps along about what he learned.

The [H/C] haired's butler poured the juice into his cup as the girl munched on her cookie, listening to him.

"....anyways, my teacher at school asked us what we wanted to be when we were grown-ups. Obviously, I said I'm going to space." He says seriously. "But I'm going sooner than that." Senku looked proud at this.

"An astronaut?" [Name] says quietly, thinking of Byakuya.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

With Christmas coming along, [Name] had managed to walk to Senku's house, which was behind her home. With enough begging, her father had managed to help Byakuya move out of the apartment complex he and Senku lived in and into a bigger home.

Her butler had tagged along and when she rang the doorbell, Byakuya answered the door. "Oh, [Name]!!" He says cheerfully. "Senku isn't home yet, I'm guessing he's hanging out with his friend from school."

Taiju met her a couple of days ago after Senku had managed to sneak her into his school after classes were done. The three went to the park where Senku was using a magnifying glass to burn a paper using the sunlight hitting the glass.

Letting the two in, Byakuya lead them to sit down in the living room.

"I didn't see your car outside." She asked him. The man sighs sadly, clearly dejected. "I sold it." He says.

The [H/C] haired and her butler flinch at this. "I used the money to buy things for Senku; ever since he's been reading those books at your house, his interest in Science has grown a lot more."

"...." The girl looks up at him before looking down at the floor ahead of her.

Suddenly, getting up from the couch, "[Name] don't get up so fast-," she tugs on her butler's arm, "I changed my mind, let's go home, I haven't started on any presents." She exclaims.

Saying goodbye to Byakuya, the two left the Ishigami residence in a hurry.

"Grandpa Joel, I haven't started on Senku present." She says the older man who opens the door to her small craft room in her home.

"Also, I want to use my allowance to buy Byakuya a new car."

Grandpa Joel blinks at this, clearly taken aback by this. A 7-year-old wanting to buy a car is crazy. Luckily, her father was away for work so she could let one of the workers buy it using her card without him knowing.

Her butler has been by her side from the moment she turned 2, along with a nanny but she wasn't that close to her as she was with Joel. The old man was a loyal worker of her father for years, and so, he was entrusted with [Name] since then.

For Senku's present, she wanted it to be special since he was her very first friend.

"Grandpa Joel, I want to build a robot for Senku." She says proudly. "I know it's not gonna be perfect like my father's but I want this Christmas to be special." Joel looks down at her, clearly seeing how determined she is, not that he is surprised; she grew up to be very isolated from children her age, born into a wealthy family, setting her apart from those who were born in a lower class.

"....I'll help you, dear." He says, smiling as she beams with the biggest smile on her lips, one he's seen more now ever since Senku came into her life.

Once Christmas came along, [Name] opened the door for the Ishigamis and Taiju. With a warm greeting, she leads them to the living room, a large decorated tree in the corner with so many presents underneath.

After spending time together playing games, Senku watched as the girl started to give out presents to the workers of the mansion. Taiju got his gift soon after, then Byakuya, who she led outside to show him a brand new car of the newest brand.

"Here you go!" She says happily, handing him the keys.

Byakuya's mouth dropped to the floor as the girl hugged him before grabbing Senku and dragging him back inside the house while everyone else was simply frozen with shock.

Gathering his present, the [H/C] haired girl suddenly felt shy; the robot she was supposed to build him wasn't done yet, so she prepared something smaller for him. Fidgeting nervously, she handed him a small box that was wrapped neatly.

"It's not much, but I hope you'll use it for science." She says flustered.

Senku pulled a black card from the box. He read what was on it, and he was surprised. "....this is." He mumbles.

"I get an allowance from my father every month...and since you're my best friend, I want to share it with you." [Name] was flustered at this, the older girl was shaking from being way too nervous to see his reaction.

"Please use it well if it's going to benefit science. There's no limit."

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

Senku was sitting in his room, thinking hard. The old man had brought him a ton of Science equipment for Christmas but he wanted to create something special for the [H/C] haired girl using it.

"[Name] really loves fireworks, the ones that sparkle on the stick, she told me that they remind her of the stars." He had asked Byakuya for what she would like, and the answer was pretty straightforward. A rich girl like her can get anything, but fireworks were her favorite...

His birthday arrived sooner than he expected. [Name] came over with a cake, and Taiju tagged along as well, holding a box in his hands. He asked about it, but Taiju simply told him that it was heavy for him to carry.

Singing happy birthday to him, Byakuya pushed the girl to his side.

"Just because it says Senku's name on the cake and present doesn't mean we can't sing for [Name] too!" He says Senku looks at her, seeing her flustered.

"So, happy birthday to Senku and [Name]." Joel, Byakuya and Taiju said happily.

That day, he learned that they shared the same birthday. When he asked her about it years down the line, she had simply answered that it was his day, she could've celebrated it a day after to make sure the day was about him.

Sitting down outside, the two were looking up at the stars before Senku was given a tiny box. Opening it, he found a small robot inside that resembled him. "I did my best, although Grandpa Joel helped a lot."

Seeking over to see his reaction, her eyes widened when she saw how in awe he was; his red eyes had the same sparkle every time he spoke about science, but they held something else she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She felt her cheeks heat up, her heart skipped a bit as she continued to stare at him as he examined the robot that was the size of his hand. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest the longer she stared at him, and she blushed even more when he looked up at her with a gentle smile.

masterlist taglist- @frootloopscos @itsnotsh1v4n1 @lovingyeet @kazuubaby @yn7857 @foulbreadpaenut

[hammerton365]

You’re in my head24/7

“Y/N,” His voice was stern, clearly fed up with your antics. “M’sorry! It’s just too much..” You groggily trailed off, body shivering at Erens forceful tone. For some back story, you and Eren had started dating 3 weeks ago.

You’d both known each other since college. You, a STEM major, and Eren, a Political Science major you’d happened to have a project together in a science class you both were required to take. You and Eren would hang out with each other between classes, just talking and sharing things that you two had in common. Up until recently you both had clearly been denying your feelings for each other that had lingered for years and decided it was best just to push them away, as Eren was clearly not one for commitment and you were deathly scared of having your heart broken, never being in a relationship or intimate before. Eren loved clubbing and you— being obsessed with him and always wanting to spend time with him, after a night of clubbing, grew tired of seeing him with a new woman every other day, going from girl to girl without any hesitancy. So after a lot of contemplation, you invited him over to confess. To your surprise, he immediately reciprocated your feelings.

And now a few weeks have flown by and you and Eren finally decided that you wanted to be intimate together. Only thing was, there was one teeeny tiny problem— You were a virgin, and never having orgasmed before, not to mention you were very sensitive down there— Something Eren wasn’t used to. At the moment you were laying on Erens silky bedding sheets soaked in sweat and arousal.

Now, you would think that you were sweating because of the marathon sex that you and Eren had indulged in, but no. Truth be told, Eren hadn’t even put his dick inside of you at this point. “C’mon, I don’t have all day, baby.” Erens patience hadn’t always been his best feature, even with you. “M’sorry..” Erens frustrated sigh comes out more of a shaky moan, preparing himself to take you. “Stop apologizing, bend your ass down and stop running from this shit.” His raspy voice sends shivers down your spine straight to your clit, making your inside pulse around nothing. Not wanting Eren to get any more impatient, and may save your chances of having some shred of pussy and sanity left after he is done with you.

You assume your position, his favorite— backshots, as you had been told by him previously. Attempting to give Eren the best arch possible. You looked back at him hoping that he would get the memo that you were ready, “You ready?” He asked, licking his lips seemingly with a fire lit behind his eyes, ready to ravage you. You nodded your head hoping that would be a good enough answer for him— clearly thinking wrong. SLAP “Answer me with words.” It was like his voice went 12 octaves deeper, his jaw clenched. “Y-Yes ‘Ren I’m ready to take you!” You moaned out. Your arousal getting the best of you. He gave your ass a few soft taps “Good job mama,”

Eren wasted absolutely no time slipping into your sweet tight heaven, only to be met with a tight ring of resistance. He lavished in the way that it squeezed around his cock head, making him hiss in pleasure. “F-Fuck haven’t broken one of these in a while…” you little soft Whimper at the stretching sting of his intruding tip, on instinct, your body jerks forward, sliding him out completely.

Before you could go very far, his arm landed on your shoulder, “Darlin’ I’m never gonna get to break you in if you don’t straighten up.” He gave your ass a stinging SLAP. He yanked your arms from in front of you where they were planted onto the bed to keep your balance, leaving you to fall flat on your face. Grabbing both wrists into one hand, and using his other to line himself back up again.

“Ur not gonna have the chance to run away this time, so you better buckle up.” Eren still had some type of humility in him so he continued to go gentle just for the first couple of minutes, sliding in and out of your hole so you could adjust before he finally decided to fully thrust in.

He threw his bed, head back, shamelessly and let out a loud growl, “Aw now that’s what I’m talking about!” he bit his lip as he was at peace to become forceful.

“This is some good fuckin’ pussy!” Your back arched into a C, as the pain slowly feed it out into a more pleasurable feeling your mouth became like a sink, spilling out noises that filled the room. The faster Eren went the more the bed creaked, you almost thought that it would break. “E-Eren fuuucckkk!”

Eren was entranced by the way that your ass met his pelvis, clapping back on him like a standing ovation. You thought it couldn’t get any better until you felt it— Eren had found your g-spot. “AH-shit-shit-shiiitt!” Your toes were curled almost painfully, Eren letting out a loud laugh

“Oh~? Seems I found that little button that makes your brain short circuit.” You somehow managed to free one of your hands from Eren’s tight grip, using it to push back on his hard abs— It’s laughable really, thinking Eren would take mercy on you virgin or not. When he was in the zone he was focused on making his partner cum, no matter what.

“Hands.” His voice was stern almost if you got in trouble for being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“Feels weird Erennnn!” You were going crazy at this point, feeling every vein slide in and out of your soaked walls, but by the time he was done with you you’d be no more than a pile of puddy.

“Somethings coming out— F-Feels l-ike I gotta peee~!” Your legs began shaking, Eren knew you were close, hell you’d never even had an orgasam before and even you could tell.

“Mhm, it’s okay baby, ur going to squirt— just let it all out on papa.” His thrust became sharper, more aimed. With the way you were clenching Eren felt like he could cum right on the spot. Filling your pussy up with his seed and making you his. At this point he had let go of your hands and grabbed onto your hips for leverage, slamming himself into you. When you heard your friends talking about how they wish they could get some dick they could feel in their stomach, this must be what they meant because you could swear that that’s exactly where his dick was reaching and you couldn’t be told otherwise.

Tears begin to bloom in your eyes, further wetting the sheets under you. You were reaching for anything that you could grab to possibly get away from his harsh thrust. “Stop runnin’ from it and take this shit, be a good girl for me.” he leaned down growling in your ear, then taking your earlobe into his mouth to bite.

“I’m gonna cum! Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” You yelled out, screams ricocheting off his apartment walls. Erens cock had been forming a ring around his dick of cream and your wetness, he truly wanted to pick up the creamy mess with his finger and lick his digits clean.

His arms closed around your neck walking you in a chokehold he took it upon himself to begin sucking, hickeys into your shoulder in the side of your neck. His balls were slapping your clit making your eyes cross. His hand going to your chin and making you look into his eyes, enveloping you in a steamy kiss.

Pulling away he continued to look into your eyes, “You. Love. This. dick. Don’t you?” He held a firm look in his eyes, expecting no other answer than yes.

“Fuckkk yeahhh! FUCK!” You knew you were tipping over the edge when your vision was blurred white, it’s almost like the world around you disappeared, and all you could feel was the simmering heat of your orgasm. The feeling shot through like a strike of lightning, making your body lock up in your back arch almost painfully. you screamed out bloody murder, neighbors would almost think someone was plummeting a knife in your back if it weren’t for the sound on the headboard slamming against the wall. You juices slipping past your tight hold wetting up Erens pelvis.

“Ren-! Please slow down, can't take it s’ too much!” You were panting and wontonly moaning, “Take some out!” In response Eren grabs the headboard plowing into you like there’s no tomorrow, ravaging your pussy. “You creamin’ on my shit like the good girl you are?” Eren felt his orgasm approaching, quickly pulling out not wanting to cum just yet— at the night was still you and all you two had was time.

With heavy breaths, both you and Eren panting pushing himself off the bed, he grabbed your foot and pulled you to the edge pressing your knees right under your breast. “I don’t know what you think ur doin’ trying to catch a break but We’re not even close to done sweetheart.” You knew it was going to be a long night…

[m-to-z-andbackto-m]

No you don't understand, it's not just a hyperfixation, IT'S LITERALLY THE REASON I'M FUNCTIONING 😭

I don't like staying hungry or eating when I'm not sure if I'm hungry or bored because Horror exists, he's been through a famine, tf am I doing???

I get upset about my hypersomnia and I try really hard to not to let it happen because many skeles are associated with narcolepsy

I'm pretty sure consuming skeleton content cured my depression over a few years???

God, I'm literally so dependent on them, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THO!!!

I try to avoid toxic behaviors when I can identify them, and it's easier to because Nightmare is a toxic guy canonically, I've consumed enough content to know what's right and wrong in the long run

On the other end, seeing content where one or more of them gets comfort helps me navigate some situations because generally I'm not amazing at giving comfort

They also have me think about my philosophy and general beliefs, a lot of them have been done wrong so they do wrong, therefore I believe we should always try to understand each other because communication can avoid huge issues (DreamTale), and I think it's okay for people to take revenge, even to the extent of killing an abuser if the circumstance just happens to be that way (I'm not gonna specify what irl situation I'm thinking of but I do not advocate for murdering people in general guys, but it's only fair to see the motive, people aren't born criminals and sometimes the extreme feels like the only way out one way or another. Essentially, see people for more than their crimes. Of course some people are just disgusting assholes, but you get the idea.)

Having to memorize the lore and world building, along with creators, characters, interpretations, AND variations, doing all this helps me practice organizing thoughts and articulating difficult information

They actually boost my creativity and keep me happy, when I'm stressed, opening Tumblr to my favorite sillies literally takes my mind off whatever was bothering me, like I actually need them to lower any anxiety levels and keep me regulated

However on the downside they can make me very hyper, sometimes so emotionally so that I shut down for a bit because I physically cannot express my adoration for them and it's overwhelming but I never shut down for too long, I love them, they keep me going y'know!

They help me explore diversity and character writing, putting depth and thought into a being, helps me with my own creations <3

Actually, I'm too shy to look at × reader/self insert/(Y/N) content most of the time unless it's platonic (Might just be me being aromantic honestly) BUT I Have seen stuff where they affirm body types and "Flaws" and stuff like that and I think if I was less of a prude I could look at that stuff and it'd make me feel better about my insecurities, but for now my partners are doing a good job at keeping me normal

Essentially I just need all my sillies to work properly!!! 💕 (I'm so sane, and normal, and not senile about them :3)

(CW For Next Bit: Mental Health, Paranoia, Panic Attack Discussed)

Actually about that, my obsession with the skeletons used to be SO bad that I felt like they were always watching me and my brain would involuntarily make me feel paranoid and bad about myself (Possible ODC symptom where you're afraid of being judged for your thoughts/actions?) and I can't tell if it was a panic attack I had a couple years ago where I couldn't keep caring what they "Think" and I just had to scream and sob because you literally can't hold it in during one (If it was this, I guess I sorta pushed them away D:), OR my partners replaced my brain sillies so I feel them to a lesser extent

(Insecurity, Self Care Issues, And Gay Talk 😭 Oh and also mention of paranoia again but not so bad)

Like it used to be so bad I couldn't get up because I felt yucky, but I couldn't take a shower because they were "There", but now it's like, if my partners are my brain sillies, they like me, we'd probably take showers together when we live together and shit like that, it's okay if they're "Watching" me, actually, they're actual people somewhere else, doing something else, they don't just exist because I think of them the way the silly skeles do, they're actually defined and aren't actually around, it's just me thinking about them, it's okay, I don't have to feel so bad or weird about it, of course I still do a bit because insecurity is hard to scrape off, but I think I'm getting a little better and that's all that matters

Anyways point is, I need my wives, both skeletons and real, to function properly or I'm literally DOOMED

[w2soneshots]

omgg i’d love to see like youtuber!reader and bach, maybe like a silly little q&a? or even one of those cute but kinda cringe couple challenges from like 2010 loll ( like the chapstick challenge or smth ). obviously don’t feel pressured to write this if you don’t want to!! love ur work btw 🩷

Q&A -Italian Bach

words: 0.7k+

warnings: suggestive content.

summary: you and Bach answer his fans weird and funny questions about your relationship.

notes: hello lovely!💗 Thank you so much for your request (I apologise for posting it so late🙈). This was actually so much fun to write and it’s also my first fic for Italian Bach, hehe. I hope you enjoy!!✨🫶🏼

"Hello m' lady," Isaac greeted me at his apartment door, stepping aside to let me in. I giggled before softly pecking him on the lips.

We were both quite new to the whole youtuber thing just eight months ago. We met through a friend and decided to film a video together. The fans started shipping us, as they do, and something else ended up blossoming between us.

"Ready to film?" I asked, after we'd spent a little while chatting on his sofa. "Yup!" He jumped up and then reached for my hands to pull me up and off the couch.

He brought another chair into the spare bedroom so we could both sit at his desk, then he turned the camera on and we got started.

"Hello, my little gremlins," he began in a strange voice, I didn't bat an eyelid since I was fully used to his antics. "Today I have my girlfriend here to answer some of your questions. So get comfy and maybe get some popcorn or something."

I shuffled in the chair as he pulled out his phone. "Okay... Jacob asked, do you guys fuc-" he faked a gasp and I raised my eyebrows. "Jacob that is absolutely disgusting, you little virgin man... ew, but the answer to your question is yes. Anything to say on the matter y/n?" I breathed out a laugh. "Nope. I think you covered all bases."

"Next! Lillian, ah... can never trust a Lillian," I furrowed my brows. "What why?" "I have my reasons. Okay, she asked when did you realise you loved y/n?" "Aw, that's cute!" I smiled.

"Umm... probably when I got some of that poosay!" "Isaac!" I playfully slapped his arm. "No no, I'm joking! It was after we'd just finished filming a video and we ordered dinner and I realised that even the boring, simple things I always enjoyed doing it if it was with you."

"Oh my god, that was actually such a sweet answer, the tiktok editors are gonna eat that up." He chuckled as he knew I was right.

"Do you wanna read this one?" He asked. I nodded and took the phone. "Wolfman57 asked when we want kids," my eyes widened as I read the message. "First of all, I love your username, secondly that's a big question to ask, wolfman." Bach stated.

"Why don't we get back to you in a few years?" I opted. "Yes, we shall do that," Isaac seconded. "Moving on... oh lord, Sam asked, what's the biggest animal you think you could fit up your ass?" "Woah Sam, that's crazy," Bach grimaced.

"Why don't you take the phone back?" I said and he quickly took it. "I'm sorry your eyes had to witness that my love," he joked.

After quite a few interesting questions we were onto the last one. I leaned my head on Isaac's shoulder so that I could see the phone. "Okay... finally, Laura asked, what's our favourite thing about each other?"

"Ooo, I like this!" I grinned. "My favourite thing about you is your ability to find the good in any situation. Though an honourable mention is that fat ass," he answered.

I scoffed. "That was sweet and you know what... I'll take it. Okay, now yours, my kind sir, would be your funny little jokes and the way they make me belly laugh. Along with the mullet," I smirked as I ran my hand over the back of his hair.

"Thank you for watching till the end, obviously y/n will be back soon so put any requests of things you want to see us film in the comments!" "Nothing dirty," I added. Bach chuckled before turning the camera off.

"That was perfect." "You're perfect, now let's go get some lunch," he responded, standing. "You know... if we order something, that usually takes like twenty minutes to come..." "ah... what do you suggest we do while we wait ma'am?" "I don't know, a lot can be accomplished in twenty minutes," I replied with a cheeky smile.

In and instant he'd grabbed me and flung me over his shoulder. I let out a shriek and giggled as he ran with me into our bedroom.

[callistocalavarni]

Aphrodite, as well as deciding when and where

I just want to say, this is more for me than it is anyone - take what you want and leave what you don't want. I'm not here to narrate your life. I just like talking into the void of the internet.

There was a different form of consciousness I went to when I was a child. I was young when this happened, I barely remember what was going on. I was at this sand temple, there were others for brief moments. It was a beautiful and sentimental place. I really only remember the emotion tied to it. Confusion, despair, survival but not at the deepest level. Maybe it was a shift, maybe it wasn't. I was too young to figure it out. I still wonder what significance it has, why was I there, what part of my mind wanted me to go. Maybe it was a past life. I’ve lived a lot of lives and I think I’m ready to permashift. Of course in the future I will decide where - right now I still want a little more time. I already said I would permashift and I did leave for a while but eventually came back. I'm not very good at expressing what I have lived and when I do I end up hating the way I phrased it,, But now I have an idea on how I want to do it for the future.

It feels as if i'm at a crossroad, many paths and outcomes will always be there for me.

A couple years ago around Christmas I bought an alice and wonderland tarot deck. Even though this was a long time ago I’m still getting the hang of reading cards, but I have learned a lot since using them. I’ve always loved Alice, around that time I had set out to watch every variation of the story. I watched the Czech one; Alice 1988. I don’t think I finished it but I got a good way through and the film amazed me with how surreal it was. I’m pretty sure everyone can see that, that story and shifting are related in a way. This was also the time where I had really gotten into Greek mythology and Hellenic views. I’m not a master in it and prefer to follow the gods of my Lumari dr - but this was before I shifted there. Now, I work with Aphrodite as well as my own gods. One Friday I sat down and did a reading with her. I wanted to make a waiting room. I don’t remember exactly what I had asked her but her answer was clear. Shifting does not require a waiting period, it doesn't need a bridge or a state of if. Just do it as soon as you'd like, go where you want as soon as the thought pops into your head. There is no need to flesh the idea out completely. A few words and visual ideas is all I really need; If I find myself scripting too much it's like the reality becomes something entirely different from what I wanted. Even though I have found that this works for me I still fail to give into the urge to shift as soon as the motivation clings to me. I’m a major procrastinator, it’s a flaw I’m working on. I have success with shifting to random realities, ones that I think of in a quick moment, and then decide I want to be there. I hate being picky, I’m conflicted with uncertain people. Just go, your subconscious is not actively out to get you. It’s not something to be scared of. That’s how I came to the way I view shifting now, also I think tarot is a way to bring out your subconscious beliefs. 

[oldsellshop69]

Mark always knew he was going to be a slaver. Even in collage. But it was always a good idea to get married. Married men are a lot less likely to be a slaver.

Just before graduation, Mark met Judy. She is pretty, pragmatic and materialistic. Mark could have done what may have done and lie, but Judy liked the stuff he was buying her, the vacations he was taking her on and the future he showed her. So Mark explained what he was doing, that he was a slaver to Judy. She of course, did not like it. But, he was making so much money and making her so happy, she got over it and agreed to marry Mark.

That was many years ago. These days, Mark and Judy are still happily married. But even though both were happy, Mark was thinking about making a change.

Slavery is based on how attractive a slave is. But age is also a consideration. The younger, the better. And while still young, in just a few days, Judy will hit the big 30. At 30, a slaves value drastically drops. So Mark has to make a decision. Stay married to Judy cause after 30, he value drops. Or sell her off now and get himself a new, young pretty bride. After thinking about it for a few hours, Mark makes his decesion.

A couple of hours later, Judy finds herself bound and gagged in front of a webcam being sold into slavery. She knew this could happen and so instead of trying to fight her fate, she tired to look alluring so she could be bought for more, and by a very rich man. While she tired to get herself a rich man, Mark watched the dollar increase while he scrolled through Tinder, looking for a date.

[nestinqomega]

hi hi!! can you explain what it’s like being an omega?? I never knew this was a thing until now but I think it seems cool.

hi ! i will try my best !! i don’t know how good of an explanation i’ll be able to give bc i find it hard for me to describe a lot of parts of my identity, but i hope it makes sense :)

also obligatory disclaimer that all omegas have different experiences and may feel/identify differently than i do !

i think it honestly probably started before i ever even knew anything about the omegaverse, let alone the misce community; when i was young, probably elementary school, i would get confused about why people acted certain ways, sometimes - in the sense that it felt like everyone was over complicating things. that being said, finally getting diagnosed in my late teens as very neurodivergent probably sheds some light on a few of those feelings

that THAT being said, i know it was more than that because i found myself always coming back to the idea of “why don’t people act more instinctual or like animals?” because i always knew humans are animals. i felt so out of place because i’d want to lean into those more instinctual/animalistic urges and it was always frowned upon

on top of that, as someone who’s AFAB, my relationship with with gender has always been a winding road too. i never quite felt like any of the other girls, i always felt like i was looking through a window - girl adjacent. a looooong way down the line (in the last couple years) i finally realized i fell somewhere in the demigirl area.

however

the first time i read a fully fledged out omega character (years ago) i had this moment of “oh my gosh that’s me!”

i couldn’t tell you who that character was now (i read a lot lmao), but ever since then, i’ve always felt this intrinsic connection to omegas, and always wishing i could exist there, in whatever au i was reading about because i felt like that was the only place i could feel like me and others would get it

finding the misce community was like a weight off my shoulders and a breath of fresh air - i’d finally found my people !!!

the specific characteristics that i feel like align with my identity as an omega are hard for me to pinpoint cuz they just feel like me, yk?

but i guess i’ve always been nurturing - towards people (especially kids and babies), plants, animals, anything in nature really, even objects

i love caring for people and being cared for in return, in a deeper way than a lot of people i know irl do

i’ve always been creative and absolutely LOVE crafting, specifically creating things for the people i care about. especially crocheting - i feel so happy and warm and fuzzy when i make a crochet plush or household item or knick knack for someone :)

things like scent/scenting, nesting, and vocals like purring have always felt like something connected to me too, in a way that was just like “oh yes, duh!”

i’m also very very particular about touch - who, where they’re touching me (both on my body and in what setting), how, why, etc. it’s a weird balance of aversion to touch but also craving touch that i still struggle to grasp, and that’s something i feel like is part of my own personal omega identity

there’s a lot of stuff i’m probably missing (i know there’s at least 1 thing i’m gonna realize i missed), but i hope this answered your question and was helpful ?

if you have follow up questions or questions about specific things i’ll do my best to answer those too :)

[vargaslovinghours]

And never let you go ♥

Bonus without the overspill lighting:

[whippetcrimes]

Laying on a heated blanket, tucked into another soft blanket, warm sweater, head on her pillow... What a life.