#it's been hard to work with all the moving from one side of the world to the other

[dawngyu]

Official Teaser: The Craved Misfit

pairing: slytherin!kai x gryffindor!reader genre: harry potter au, hogwarts set in college age, obsession, ruin, strangers to lovers, pureblood/halfblood societal norms, mdni.

Kai lounged on the stairway, tuning out the crude, drunken laughter of his housemates as they bragged about the girls they’d ruined the night before. Their voices blurred into nothing. His eyes scanned the grounds lazily, flashes of yellow, green, blue, red, the usual mess of students he barely cared to notice.

He saw you.

He leaned forward without thinking, resting his chin on his hand, the world narrowing to just you. Everything else fell away against the blinding, face of yours. You moved with a kind of arrogance he recognized instantly: head high, steps sharp, like the world didn’t deserve you. The fire in your eyes. Typical of your house—spoiled, untouchable. He should’ve been bored.

He couldn’t look away.

A boy in red caught up to you, fumbling for your attention, desperate to be seen. Kai watched, as you turned to him with a look of pure disdain. The boy stammered something, like he was apologizing. You slapped him. Hard.

Kai’s mouth curved into a slow, wicked grin.

You didn’t stop there. You kicked the boy’s foot out from under him, angrily spat a few words he couldn’t catch, and walked off, not even glancing back. Kai’s eyes stayed locked on you, tracking every furious step you took across the grounds. You tried to hide it; the tremble in your hands, the way you blinked too fast but he caught it.

You're crying.

His chest tightened, something crawled under his skin. How much sweeter would it be if he were the one to do it? He could already picture it: your pride, your voice breaking, your pretty face crumpling; under his hands, under his mouth, under his name. Not for some sniveling boy, but for him.

Only him.

He wouldn't let you walk away from him like that.

RELEASE DATE: JUNE 1ST, 12PM MST.

notes: i know, kai is seen as a hufflepuff (and i completely agree) however, for this story, i wanted to challenge myself by exploring a different side of him. it’s a work of fiction after all, and part of the fun is seeing how far we can push our creativity.

it’s honestly such an honor to be part of this event with four insanely talented MOAs. i can't wait to bring this here. here's the full masterlist.

taglist: open! let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic.

[bimbowshmimbow]

part 2 neighbor!joel x reader

part one

mdni. 18+ only. minors, do not interact. neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is mid-20s, Joel is late 30s/early 40s), pining, tension you can taste, slow burn that turns fast, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it irl), possessive!joel, dirty talk, light praise, rough but tender sex, Joel being dangerously soft after wrecking you, feelings absolutely involved. you’re so down bad for Joel it’s almost tragic

His hand cradled your face, thumb stroking over your jaw as he coaxed your mouth open, deepening the kiss.

You felt dizzy, clinging to the soft cotton of his shirt, the hard wall of his chest under your palms grounding you.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” Joel muttered against your lips, voice wrecked, like he hated himself for how badly he wanted you.

He kissed you again, harder this time — like he was trying to erase all the years he hadn’t had you, all the moments you’d brushed past each other and pretended not to feel it.

You gasped when his free hand found your hip, fingers curling into the thin material of your shorts.

The fabric strained as he gripped you, thumb stroking over the soft skin just beneath the hem.

“You come over here lookin’ like this,” he rasped, kissing a line down your jaw to the sensitive spot just under your ear, making you shiver. “In those tiny little shorts, all wide-eyed and sweet… thinkin’ I wouldn’t notice?”

Your only answer was a soft whimper, hips tilting toward him instinctively.

Joel chuckled — low and dark — before sliding his hand up under your t-shirt, dragging his calloused fingers over the bare skin of your waist, your ribs.

He groaned when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice strained. “Tryin’ to kill me.”

You whimpered again, nails digging into his shoulders.

Without warning, Joel lifted you — effortlessly — and set you down on the kitchen counter.

The cool granite bit into your thighs, but you barely noticed, too busy drinking in the way Joel’s eyes dragged over your body, hungry and possessive.

He tugged your shirt up slowly, giving you a chance to stop him. When you didn’t — when you raised your arms instead — he peeled it off and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Joel just stood there for a second, breathing hard, hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know where to touch first.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with something like awe. “Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

You reached for him, whining a little when he didn’t move fast enough, and that finally broke him.

Joel surged forward, kissing you like he wanted to climb inside your skin.

His big hands framed your thighs, spreading them wider so he could step between them, the hard line of his cock pressing against your core through the fabric of your shorts.

You rolled your hips instinctively, seeking friction, and Joel hissed through his teeth.

“Patience, baby,” he grunted, reaching between you to pop the button on your shorts. “Gotta take my time with you.”

He tugged them down your legs — slow, almost reverent — leaving you bare and wanting.

Joel dropped to his knees without a second thought, hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders.

“You ever been eaten out proper, sweetheart?” he rasped, hot breath fanning over your dripping center. “‘Cause I ain’t lettin’ you walk outta here without knowin’ what it feels like.”

Before you could answer — before you could even breathe — Joel licked a broad, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you cry out.

You clutched at his hair, hips bucking instinctively as he devoured you, tongue working you open with filthy, practiced precision.

He moaned against you, like the taste of you was his favorite thing in the goddamn world.

You were close embarrassingly fast, thighs trembling, your breath hitching in broken little gasps.

Joel pulled back just enough to look up at you, beard soaked, pupils blown wide.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he rasped, voice gravelly. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”

It only took a few more strokes of his tongue before you were coming, back arching off the counter, whimpering his name like a prayer.

Joel didn’t let up — kept licking you through it, drinking down every last drop until you were trembling.

When he finally stood, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest heaving.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream,” he muttered, pulling you into a messy, desperate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You fumbled for his belt, clumsy and eager, and Joel let you — shoving his jeans down just enough to free himself.

You gasped at the sight of him — thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip.

Joel grunted when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, teasing him the way he had teased you.

“Enough,” he growled, voice rough. “Need to be inside you, baby. Now.”

He lined himself up, dragging the blunt head of his cock through your soaked folds, teasing your entrance.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he rasped, voice strained.

“Please, Joel,” you gasped. “Need you.”

He pushed in slow, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open.

You clung to him, nails digging into his back, gasping at the delicious burn.

“Goddamn,” Joel grunted when he bottomed out, forehead pressing to yours. “Tightest little thing I ever felt.”

He gave you a second to adjust before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in — hard enough to make you cry out.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, setting a brutal rhythm. “Take me… just like that.”

Each thrust sent you higher and higher, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the kitchen.

Joel bent his head to suck a mark into your neck, groaning when you tightened around him.

“Gonna fill you up,” he muttered, voice broken. “Gonna stuff you so full of me, you won’t think about anyone else.”

“Only you,” you whimpered. “Always you.”

Joel groaned — a deep, wrecked sound — and fucked you even harder, chasing both of your releases.

You came first, shattering around him with a loud, keening cry.

Joel followed a few thrusts later, spilling deep inside you with a ragged moan of your name, hips jerking helplessly.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment, breathing hard, forehead still pressed to yours.

“You okay, baby?” he muttered after a minute, voice rough with tenderness.

You nodded, too blissed-out to speak, and Joel smiled — soft and sweet — before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

“Next time,” he whispered against your lips, “we do it in a bed.”

You laughed breathlessly, clinging to him.

“I’m holdin’ you to that,” you whispered back.

eeee I love them, please let me know what you think! ~bow

[heartsforjh]

Ｐｏｌａｒｏｉｄｓ

window - pt. 1

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: slow burn, very dramatized (are some of these situations the most realistic? no, but it’s for the plot so just try to enjoy the whimsy aspect of it all 🔥)

word count: almost 4k (3,914)

summary: little y/n and quinn meet for the first time!

a/n: credits to @beenucks for this cutesy idea, and helping me with the graphics + storyline! it’s been in the works since like february 10th, so definitely thank you for your patience as well 😭 this is an AU INTRO! the masterlist for it is right → here! hope you guys enjoy!

Ontario, Canada 

Winter 2007 

You watch as the figures outside your window dance around on the beautiful ice rink. People laugh and skate in their own little world—a world you wish you could be a part of. 

The glass keeping you from the bustle outside fogs as you let out a disheartened sigh. It’s not really the window that’s keeping you… trapped. It’s your parents—or rather, what your parents are afraid of. 

When you were just a baby, you got extremely sick, and doctors were worried about the outcome. Thankfully, you made a successful recovery for the most part, but you were left with a very weak immune system. Since then, your parents have treated you like the most fragile thing to grace the Earth. 

“Y/n! Lunch!” your mother calls, cutting through your thoughts. 

You get up from your seat on the windowsill and make your way downstairs, taking it one step at a time. 

When your feet finally hit the first floor, you head to the dining room and sit at the table. Your mother serves you your food, and you say your thanks. After a while, as you eat, you decide to bring up the topic that’s been plaguing your mind. 

“Mommy?” you start. “Do you think I can play outside? The outside where the ice and the other kids are?” 

Your mother’s head snaps up, a surprised look flashing on her face briefly before calming herself. “Now, why would you want to do that, silly?” 

You think hard. This is your shot to convince her to let you go explore and make new friends instead of just observing like you’ve always wanted. 

“I like it out there. It’s nice,” is all you manage to get out under pressure. 

Your mother chuckles, amused. “What do you like about it, honey? 

“I like the tree by my window. And I like the ice, Mommy. I want to go on the ice. All of the people that get to play on the ice have a lot of fun,” you inform her, your voice filled with hope. 

Your mother brings your lunch over, setting it down in front of you. “It’s nasty out there. We’ll find something more fun for you to do where you won’t get sick.” 

The next day, you wake up early in the morning, a little more bummed than usual. However, you make your way out of bed and go sit at your window, like you do every day without fail. 

You sit and watch for a few minutes, zoned out and zoned in at the same time. You’re watching everything and nothing. That is… until something catches your eye. 

A small figure is stood still in the middle of the ice, waving. Surely, not at you. 

You look around, but nobody else seems to be interacting with him. You lean closer to your window to get a better look. 

It’s a little dark-haired boy, and he’s facing you with his head tilted up to your second-story bedroom. He is waving, and it is at you! 

You’re stunned for a good moment before realizing you need to do something back. Excitedly, you hold up your hand, moving it side to side quickly. You’re aware you probably look incredibly eager, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. 

The little boy smiles, and you can’t believe someone from out there is interacting with you like this. Usually, everyone is locked into what they’re doing, where they’re skating, and certainly not worried about you. 

This one is different. He’s different. He looks like he wants to be your friend. He’s not ignoring you the way the other skaters always have. He noticed you. 

The rest of the time he’s there, you watch as he moves around the ice. He goes around in circles and shows off his tricks that have you giggling with amusement. The entire time he’s doing this, he’s constantly looking back up at you, making sure you’re thoroughly entertained. 

After a while, the little guy waves goodbye, then leaves with a blonde woman and two other little boys—who you’re assuming are his family. 

You don’t see the boy for a couple of days after that, despite waking up earlier than usual to make sure you’re ready at the window during the exact time you saw him last. On the third day, as you lay in bed, you accept that it was probably just a one-time thing. 

However, when you finally get up and go to your window to peek out—there he is. He’s standing in the same place he was just some time ago. You let out an excited gasp, and when he sees you he perks up. 

He immediately waves, and you return the action. You’re overwhelmed with joy that he’s back. But suddenly, he begins to walk—and not away. He leaves the rink and walks the few feet it takes to get to the wall where your window is. 

Now, you’re caught off guard more than anything. The little boy stops right in front of where your window is and waves. You can only think to do one thing. You open the window. 

He smiles when you do, and calls out. “Hi! Do you want to come play?” 

“One second, please!” you yell back. 

The boy nods, and you shut your window. Opening your bedroom door, you start for the downstairs window that’s facing the rink. You don’t use this one as much. It’s got a pretty view, but you simply can’t see as much as you can from the highpoint that is your bedroom window. 

When your feet leave the final step you run over to the window that you can see the boy standing near, and open that one up. 

He notices, and turns to you, smiling even brighter now. “Hi. My name is Quinn.” 

“My name is Y/n,” you tell him, relatively shy. 

“I saw you up in that other window. Do you want to come play? We can skate, and look,” he says, lifting his hand to reveal that he’s holding a camera. “I got this for Christmas. It’s my first time opening it. My mom said I can bring it here. We can take pictures of anything.” 

You nod, thinking up a response to your complicated situation. “That sounds nice, but I can’t go out there. I’ll get sick.” 

“No, it’s okay. You just have to put a coat on, then you’ll be alright,” he says, his voice full of hope. 

You smile at him trying to help. “Thank you, but I’m not allowed.” 

“Ever?” he asks, his eyebrows raised. You shake your head no, and his eyes widen a little bit. “Uh… maybe I can come in there to play with you!”

You go to reject his offer again before realizing that it’s not a bad idea. Your mom has a problem with you being outside and playing with people because you’ll get sick, but she never said anything about playing with people inside. 

“I can ask my mom!” you say, ecstatic at the thought that this might be your first real friend. 

Quinn matches your smile. “Okay! I’ll ask my mom too. She’s just at the rink.” 

You nod and shut the window, turning to go ask your mother if your new friend can come inside, but Quinn stops you. 

“Hey, Y/n! Can I have a picture of you to show my mom?” he yells through the window. 

You come back to the window, smiling for a photo. Quinn takes it and watches as it develops with a wide grin on his face. He holds out a thumbs up to you before running off in the direction of his mom, and you do the same with yours. 

You finally find your mom doing laundry and tug on her shirt to get her attention. “Mommy? Can my friend come play with me?” 

“Um… sure, sweetie,” she says with a laugh, glancing at you before getting back to what she’s doing. 

You’ve always been a super imaginative, and honestly, quite the lonely kid. You’ve had “friends” before but they’re the kind that you’d pretend are there when playing, or that you’d blame something you obviously did on when you’re in trouble. 

You're a little surprised at her agreeing just like that, but you don’t question it and go back to the window waiting for your new friend, Quinn, to get back. 

When he finally arrives he’s got a huge smile plastered on his face, and you give him a thumbs up, pointing to the side of your house where the front door is. The boy quickly makes his way around the side of your house, and you meet him. You open the door excitedly as soon as you reach all of the locks and figure them out. 

“Hi, Y/n! We can play?” he asks, his eyes all lit up. 

You nod, opening up the door further to let him in. You watch as he steps inside, and sits on the floor of the foyer. He takes his skates off, then sets them up as neatly as possible. 

You watch his movements carefully, studying him almost. “Do you have fun on the ice outside?” 

“Yeah, I like skating! It’s for hockey… or it can be for ice skating. That’s kind of like dancing on skates,” he explains. 

You take in all of this information, then glance back to his skates that are sat on the floor. “Those ones are yours?” 

“Yeah, these are mine. You can hold them if you want, but don’t touch this silver part. It’s called a blade, and you could get cut on it,” he says, picking up one of his skates and holding it out to you. 

You take the skate in your hands. It’s heavier than you imagined, and you can’t seem to figure out how anyone could balance on a blade so thin. 

“I like your shirt. You wore one just like that last time,” you point out. 

Quinn looks down, then back up at you with a smile. “This is called a jersey. It’s for hockey players to wear. Or… you could wear one—anyone can, even if they don’t play hockey.” 

Once you’re done asking Quinn a million questions you decide he’s definitely hungry and you should make sure he gets something to eat. 

“Stay here, Quinn,” you order, and he nods. You leave the room and go find your mother again. 

She greets you with a sweet smile. “Hello, sweetheart. What do you need?” 

“Mommy, my friend… is hungry. He needs a snack,” you inform her, serious as can be. 

“Oh, does he?” she laughs, figuring this is your own silly way of letting her know you’d like something to eat. “I’ll be right out.” 

You nod, say your thank yous, and make your way back out to Quinn. He’s sitting on your family’s couch and you climb up to join him. 

The poor boy is bombarded with wave two of questions. However, he doesn’t seem to mind at all, answering every question with more enthusiasm than the last. 

Your moment of getting all of the info out him that you can is cut short when you hear your mom’s footsteps approaching. She finally comes out of the hallway, turning to glance at you but immediately doing a double take. You and your new friend watch as your mother stands there wide eyed—staring right back. 

“Y/n, baby… what… who… um… who is this?” your mother asks in a half-collected half-panicking tone as she walks closer. 

You look at Quinn then back to your mom. “My friend, mommy. Remember? You said he can come in and play with me.” 

“Right… your friend,” your mother repeats slowly, her eyes flickering between you and Quinn like she’s waiting for him to magically disappear

“He’s… actually sitting… on our couch right now,” your mother says with a nod and you swear you can see her eye twitching a little bit. 

You simply nod back to her, unsure of why Quinn sitting on the couch is so crazy. Your mom takes a deep breath and turns around, heading to the kitchen to make that snack, not knowing what else to do. When she finally brings the snack, she’s the one bombarding Quinn with all of the questions now. 

“Does your mom know you’re here?” 

“When have you got to leave?” 

“Are you… okay?” 

“What’s your name?” 

“How old are you?” 

Over the course of practically interrogating him, your mom does grow quite fond of the random little boy you’ve invited in. She lets you continue your play date, except now that she knows he’s real, she’s supervising. 

Your play date with Quinn is going very smoothly. You find that he’s very funny and very polite. Unfortunately though, your fun is interrupted when there’s a knock on the door and everyone, including your mom lets out a little gasp. 

“I think that’s my mom,” Quinn says a little defeated. 

Your own mom gets up. “I’ll go see, honey.” 

She makes her way to the door and opens it. You and Quinn stare at each other as all you can hear is mumbled talking, and you try your best to make out what is being said. 

“Quinn!” your mother calls after a little while. “Time to go!” 

Quinn’s shoulders slump and he sighs, turning to you and giving you a hug. “Bye bye, Y/n. I’ll come back, okay?” 

You nod your head and hug him back before he hops off the couch. You watch as he makes his way towards the front door and picks up his skates then disappears out of view. You turn around to watch out the big window as you see him leaving with that same blonde woman and two little boys. 

Quinn does in fact come back. He comes back a lot. The two of you become very close with time. Your mother and Ellen even start to really get along and hang out during playdates. You come to learn that Quinn’s two brothers are named Jack and Luke. Jack is rowdy, and Luke is constantly just trying to keep up with the chaos of his brothers. 

One day, during one of your many playdates Luke accidentally slips up. Your mom and Ellen are sitting at the kitchen island talking, Jack is nowhere in sight–probably getting into something he’s not supposed to, you and Quinn are sitting on the couch drawing pictures, and he is laid on the ground, eating Goldfish, and listening in. 

“Quinny, I think one day when we’re older maybe my mom can let us skate together,” you tell him, voice full of hope. 

Quinn smiles and looks up from his page at you. “Yeah, one day. Only when you’re healthy though.” 

“Wait… how will you skate together if we’re leaving?” Luke asks. 

Your brows furrow, and you look up at Quinn confused. “Leaving?” 

“Luke! Why would you say that?! You’re not supposed to tell her yet! I wanted to tell her! You ruined it!” Quinn raises his voice. You can tell this is really frustrating him, but you still don’t know what it all means. 

He sighs, then looks back at you. “Y/n, we’re all going to be moving soon… to a different place. We’ll still be in Ontario, but just really far. So, we won’t be able to see each other as much.” 

“But, I don’t understand. Why are you guys leaving me?” you ask, fighting back tears. 

As long as you can remember your world has only been the one outside of your window. It doesn’t go any farther that, because you can’t go any farther than that. Somehow, you had a good friend delivered to you right at your doorstep and it led to this. You’ve never been more grateful for anything in your life than you are the Hughes family. Now, your people are going beyond your world. They’re leaving your world! 

“Our dad got a job,” Jack answers, coming around the corner to sit on the couch. 

You sigh, shoulders fully slumped and a saddened expression on your face. “He can have a job here. Why can’t he just have a job here?” 

“I wish I could control it, but I can’t. Trust me. I’d stay here with you forever if I could,” Quinn explains. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s not the end or anything. I can still visit you. I’m gonna ask my mom every single day until she finally lets me. Then, when I get back, I’m going to bother her until the next time.” 

Your nerves settle a little at that, but your heart still hurts. “Everyday?” 

“Everyday, I promise.” 

You nod, starting to be semi-okay with the idea. It could be worse. “When are you guys leaving?” 

“Two days…” Jack answers, he puts a hand on your back and looks closely at your expression, feeling bad. 

Your face immediately changes to one of anger. “No! Not two days. That’s too soon! Why didn’t you tell me?! You’re not leaving in two days!” 

“I’m sorry. We didn’t want to upset you, but it looks like that didn’t really work either way,” Quinn says, a sympathetic expression on his face. 

You lean back on the couch, putting your head in your hands. “I can’t believe this.” 

All three boys look around at each other, unsure of what to do. Jack is the first to make a move. He wraps you up in a hug, laying his head on yours. That’s when it clicks for the other boys, and they join the hug as well. 

“We’re sorry, Y/n. We love you, and we’re gonna miss you. I hope you’re not mad at me,” Quinn says, and you could’ve sworn you heard a sniffle. 

You look up to check on him, but you can’t really see his face as he has it down. Finally, you hug them back. “I love you guys too. I’m not mad. I’m just… surprised.” 

The time for them to leave comes quicker than you’d like it to, granted, you only had two days to mentally prepare. They swing by your house one last time, kind of in a hurry. 

You tell Ellen, Jim, Luke, and Jack all goodbye. It’s absolutely heartbreaking, but when it comes time for Quinn you’re immediately in tears. 

He leans down, wrapping you in a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m honestly so sorry. We can see each other soon! I’ll make sure, okay? It won’t be long.” 

“Okay…” is all you can get out, crying as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

Then, it’s obvious. It’s not a simple sniffle. You can hear him clearly this time. He’s crying. You’ve never seen him cry before. It’s an odd feeling. You don’t want him to be upset, but this isn’t something you know how to fix. 

“I love you, alright? You’re my best friend,” Quinn says, pulling back to look at you. 

You nod, staring right back at him. “You’re my best friend too. I love you. I won’t replace you.” 

As if you could. Once these boys are gone, you’ll have no one again. No one to drive your mom crazy with the yelling or making a mess. No one to come see you and stay for hours. Before Quinn and his family, you were all alone. You know what this means. You know that feeling will be back. How will you ever find a friend as great as Quinn? 

He noticed you when the world had never even come close to acknowledging you. He waved, he asked to play, and he wanted to be your friend. 

The goodbye is much longer than Quinn’s parents probably would’ve wanted, but they couldn’t bring themselves to make the two of you separate without being ready first. 

You watch out the big downstairs window as they drive off. And when you can’t see them anymore from there, you run upstairs to see if you can get a better look out of your bedroom window. You watch silently as your second family fades away. 

It’s painful.

You don’t know exactly what to do with yourself after that. You just sit at your window, and watch the people below. It makes you realize that you haven’t done this in a long time—since Quinn. Sure, you’d look out of it occasionally, but that was only when you were trying to see if Quinn had arrived at your house yet. Now, you’re really looking out again. You’re back to square one. 

It’s been months since Quinn moved. There hasn’t been a play date since then either. Your mom would always tell you that she’ll ask, but nothing ever comes of it. Is she even really asking? How would you know? 

You’ve still not got a singular new friend—not surprising considering you still aren’t allowed to go outside and play. You’re fed up. You’ve decided that it’s time you get to do something. You’re gonna convince your mom today. 

“Hi, honey!” your mom says with a smile when you come downstairs. 

You sit at the dining table watching as she cleans up the counters. “Hi. Can I skate?” 

“What?” your mom snaps her head to look at you, caught off guard. 

You nod your head, signaling that… yes, she did in fact hear you correctly. “I wanna skate. Quinn does it for his sport—remember, Quinn? Yeah, I want to do that too.” 

“Okay, well, Quinn plays hockey. You’re absolutely not doing that,” your mom says, catching your snappy tone. 

You huff. “Mom, it doesn’t need to be hockey. I just want to skate. Quinn told me that there are places like the rink outside but inside instead. I won’t get as sick! There’s one in Toronto. That’s what he told me. I want to go there.” 

“Do you know how far Toronto is? And besides, you don’t even know how to skate. You’ll hurt yourself,” she counters. 

You raise your eyebrows. This convincing thing is harder than you thought. “So then get me lessons. Plus, it’s still a car ride away! Isn’t it worth it for me to be happy? I don’t get to do anything.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna pull the sick card?” she says, annoyed. 

You cross your arms, not budging. “You do it every time I ask to do something harmless.” 

“Okay… I get your point. I’ll look into it. Now, go play,” she says with a sigh. 

You get up from the table, frustrated, unsatisfied. You’re sure she’s not really gonna look into it. Luckily, you won’t let her brush this off. You feel a little bad—it’s your mom and you weren’t the nicest, but you’re tired of being coddled and having your wants ignored. 

Safe to say, your plan to get your mom to let you skate worked. You’re hopping out of her car in your big pink jacket and new white skates, ready to go into the rink. 

When you step inside, it completely amazes you. You thought you knew everything about it from the things Quinn told you, but his words don’t do it justice. You cannot wait to step on the ice for the first time ever. 

You immediately sit down to put your skates on. You struggle quite a bit. Gosh, Quinn made this look so easy. You don’t even bother asking your mom, as she’s already in a bad mood about having to be here. 

“Hi, need some help?” a voice says, getting closer with each word. 

You smile at the offer, and look up to see who’s trying to do such a kind gesture. “Luke?!”

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[utilitycaster]

when you say ‘this wasn’t the intended campaign’ in your last post, do you mind please explaining what you’re referring to? it’s been a while since i’ve watched the wrap up, and i think i only really remember matt saying he thought they’d join the side of the empire more. i’m sure you’re absolutely correct, i trust you knowledge over my memory! but it would be great to hear what the ‘intended’ campaign was in your opinion

Sure - so I do not know the exact specs of Matt's intentions because this was a much more open-ended campaign anyway, but part of it is the Empire plot you allude to - he expected the party to work with the Augen Trust and that it would be a pretty significant part of the campaign (to the point where he had an extended guest role for Matt Colville planned). He also had planned for Lucien to be a campaign-long recurring enemy, trying to get his body back from Molly, and he was always intended to be the endgame villain.

I was talking this over with some mutuals and like, pretty much all of that except the specifics of Aeor (which make sense as a later-game reveal anyway; the draw is a combination of Caleb's interests and the party's investment in Lucien) was already seeded by episode 20 or so. What I suspect but cannot confirm happened was that when the party decided to take jobs for the Gentleman instead Matt planned to let them finish out those jobs and then draw them to the the Empire via other means - Lucien would make sense to strike in Shady Creek Run,, perhaps moving up the attack on Felderwin to give the party reason to accept a job with the Augen Trust - and then the coast stuff would have come up rather later. But Molly died, and I think that scuttled Matt's ideas so hard he sort of let the party go where they wanted (he also did introduce the idea of Avantika immediately after Molly's death), and they ended up going there both to spend time with Jester's mom and also accidentally stealing a pirate ship, and then the party followed the Felderwin attack but had coalesced and their feelings on the Empire strengthened such that they went to Xhorhas instead, and I think at that point he realized this party had sufficient drive that he just needed to give them gentle nudges, and then bring down the hammer at an opportune moment to arrange peace talks, which would introduce Vess, and she'd be the hook to get them to Aeor and then they'd find out about Lucien and go into the same approximate arc there. I also think that a number of interesting choices (stealing the beacon in this episode, for example) made the party more sympathetic and intrigued by the Dynasty much earlier on.

So yeah I suspect in short the intended game in the sense of "what Matt had planned, roughly, in early 2018" had them working with the empire and learning a lot more about Lucien earlier on (and having to dodge him as an ongoing enemy). But it still works because the characters were so well crafted and motivated, and because ultimately the overarching goal of the campaign was to explore Wildemount, introduce some key concepts and figures, and generally build out the world - and also prove that they weren't just a one-trick pony with Vox Machina. So they were able to stray from that story because Matt was able to give them a lot of free rein and show the war from a different perspective, which is very cool!

[wolfylady]

Salvation

Summary: It started with a look and then a smile. She was just another name on a continuous list of rotating faces. But then she smiled, and it wrecked his world. He would lie, cheat, and kill, just to keep her in his orbit.

Trigger Warning ⚠️: Obsession, Manipulation, Stalker Behavior, Blood

Word Count: 854

Chapter 16: Scar Tissue

Enjoy!

Price lay unconscious. His wounds tended to by Crow after fainting from blood loss due to his own stubbornness. He was in and out, his hand always reaching for Crow, so she didn’t leave his side, not that she wanted to, not after all the things that had been left unsaid after his confession.

When evac finally came, he’s grip on her was frightening, the one moment of lucidness he had was a growl. “You can't take her from me.” Before he was once more unconscious.

And then they were rushing back to base. The medics did what they could for him, the engine near deafening within the cab. And when they arrived, it was a blur of movement and shouted orders, too harsh of lights, and too many hands pressing him to stay still; demanding he lay flat. He only relented when he heard Crow’s whispered plea: “Let them work, John.” Only then did he let them work—let the doctor's patch, sew and scold when he refused to hold still.

By the third morning, when Crow hadn’t even come to see him, he’d had enough.

He signed his own discharge papers—twice, when the medic refused to file the first one. By that afternoon, he was back on base, stitches tight and fresh bandages hidden beneath his shirt. The ache was constant, but he ignored it, just as he ignored the gnawing in his chest that demanded he seek out Crow.

His office was just as he’d left it, battered desk, overloaded with reports and mission files, the battered old chair groaning under his weight.

He was halfway through the pile of casualty reports when a knock came at the door.

He didn’t look up.

The door opened and closed without him telling them to enter. But from the sound of the footsteps, he knew who it was.

Crow closed the door behind her, but Price didn’t raise his head, still scanning the paper in front of him, pen in hand, though he would have much preferred a cigar.

“You should be resting.” She said softly, walking across the room to stand at the side of his desk, half leaning and half sitting on the edge with her arms crossed as she looked down at him. “In fact you shouldn’t be up at all.”

He grunted, setting the file aside. “There’s too much to be done.” His tone clipped. “I rest when there’s nothing left to do. That’s not today.”

She shifted, leaning closer. He was about to turn back to his reports when he felt her fingers on his wrist—gentle, warm.

“John.”

He stilled. Her touch sent a jolt through him, sharper than the pain. He finally looked up, meeting her gaze.

Something raw and stubborn burned in her eyes—something that made it hard for him to breathe, because it made something in his chest burn. Hope.

“I meant what I said,” he told her quietly, the bluster gone, stripping him down to his core, and that vulnerable part of him that needed her, not just to have her, but to have her pick him.

“I know.” She nodded, brows knitted together and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Something she did when she was unsure of what to say or how to say it.

Silence stretched between them, humming with all the things they’d left unsaid and and all the things that still hadn’t been said.

“I keep seeing it,” She admitted, her voice a soft aching whisper. Her eyes dropped to his hand, the one she held at the wrist. Her hand slide from his wrist, to hold his hand, pulling it to her as she moved closer, now leaning against the part of the desk closest to him. She cradled his hand, with both of hers. “You going down—the blood.” She squeezed his hand, as if to reassure herself he was real, that he was in front of her.

He was watching her face. “I’m here.”

Her eyes flickered up to hold his gaze, something pleading in her expression, her hand tightened.

“You did all the talking,” she murmured. “Now it’s my turn.”

But instead of words, she leaned down, closing the space between them in a single heartbeat. Her lips were on his, pressed to his—firm, desperate, and trebling with everything she couldn’t bring herself to say. Her hand came up to cradle his jaw as she held his hand, pressing the back of his palm into her chest.

He froze, surprised, then surrendered to the moment. His other hand coming up to her cheek, thumb brushing away a tear he hadn’t seen fall.

When she finally pulled back, her breath was shaky and voice watery. “I don’t want to see you like that again.”

His hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, pulling her close until their foreheads were pressed together. It felt as if the world had disappeared and it was only them in this single, heartachingly perfect moment. “I’ll do my best, love,” he whispered.

For once she didn’t argue, instead kissing him again with a tenderness that left him aching.

wolfYLady: Chapter 16! I hope you all had a "FINALLY!" moment! LOL! I really enjoyed this chapter, though there are a couple parts that just didn't feel like it flowed well, but oh well. I never planned for this story to be more than 15 chapters and I hate ending a story on an odd number so expect two more chapters at the least and four at the most. So see you all in the next chapter!

Read on Ao3

🔙Chapter 15 •●• Chapter 17🔜

Master List of Twisted Sin Series🔜

Just posted the first chapter in the second installment of the Twisted Sins Series. Veneration: Ghost with the lovely OC/Reader Crow. Please give that a read if you want more. But for the best updates, join Ao3 and follow the series.

[mmegwrld]

ೃ࿔* COOL ABOUT IT + kim taehyung

after heartbreak shatters your world, kim taehyung slowly teaches you how to trust and love again with his quiet patience and overwhelming care.

word count : 4.1k

genre : angst… fluff if you squint

warnings : reader is very very sad, she pushes people away, mentions of past physical abuse…cheating…emotional trauma, healing! kind of slow burn? idk, heavy emotional themes, taehyung is a sweetheart and he has a lot of love for you, THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!

a/n : this is was kind of hard to write because it broke my heart over and over again :,(. this one is for the anonymous who requested this!

masterlist

you weren’t always like this.

there was a time when you smiled easily, laughed until you couldn’t breathe, believed people when they said they loved you. danielle and sophia loved to remind you of that. they were the only ones who really knew the truth about what had happened, about who you had become after him.

they had seen the bruises you tried to hide. the way you winced when someone hugged you too hard. the excuses you made about falling, bumping into things, being “clumsy.”

they saw through the lies— through you. they saw the way you flinched at sudden movements, the way you stopped looking people in the eye, how you shrank into yourself when anyone raised their voice even a little. they knew what he had done.

sophia had found you one night, curled up in your bedroom, sobbing so hard you could barely breathe, a purple-blue handprint staining your hip. you hadn’t even meant to tell them everything, but once the first words spilled out, it all came flooding. the cheating. the gaslighting. the nights you were too scared to move. the mornings when you couldn’t remember how you made it through the night.

danielle and sophia hadn’t hesitated. they hadn’t let you go back, hadn’t let you make excuses for him, hadn’t cared when you cried and begged and said it was “complicated.”

sophia’s brother had come to your apartment the next day and when your ex tried to show up and apologize, to “work it out,” he had thrown him out so hard he nearly broke the door.

since then, danielle and sophia never stopped telling you that you were still you. still the same lovely, bright girl you had been before him. even if you didn’t believe it. even if you didn’t feel like her anymore.

they stayed by your side when you went silent, when you stopped showing up to parties, when you buried yourself in school and work just to stay busy enough not to think.

they were the ones who kept you tethered to this world when everything inside you said to disappear.

but you still didn’t trust anyone else. you still believed love was a weapon, not a gift.

that was until kim taehyung showed up. 

the bell above the door chimed softly as taehyung he into the café, shaking the rain from his hair. he smiled politely at the barista behind the counter, you, who barely glanced up from the pastry case you were organizing.

he got in line, pretending to scroll through his phone, but his eyes kept drifting back to you. there was something about you today. the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the way you shifted your weight from foot to foot like you didn’t want to be there at all.

he’s noticed you before, in classes. in the hallways. he knew about you and your ex boyfriend just like how everybody else did. a messy breakup they called it… they say on how you miss him so much that’s why you’re depressed and quiet now. such bullshit. 

when it was finally his turn, you looked up at him properly for the first time. your eyes met his for only a second— a flash of surprise, almost like you didn’t expect anyone to look at you so closely. then you quickly dropped your gaze to the register.

“hi,” you said quietly, your voice barely above the low hum of the café’s music. “what can i get for you?” taehyung smiled, soft and warm, “just a black coffee, please.”

you nodded, punching the order into the screen. “name?” you asked, already reaching for a cup. “taehyung,” he said.

you scribbled it on the cup, your handwriting small and neat, and passed it along to the next barista. upu didn’t ask him anything else. you didn’t try to make conversation. you just gave him a polite smile. the kind you probably gave a hundred people a day and moved on to the next customer.

still, for some reason, taehyung couldn’t stop smiling as he stepped aside to wait. it wasn’t much. barely anything at all.

he felt so attracted to you… not physically but mentally. as if he’s supposed to be in this position. 

he was now a regular. sliding into the corner booth every other afternoon with his laptop and a lazy smile. you had seen plenty of your classmates come and go, groups laughing too loud, couples tucked into corners, professors grading papers. 

you tried not to think too much of it. tried to serve his coffee and move on. but then he started sitting in your section during your shifts. every time. always choosing the booth by the counter, where he could catch your eye when you weren’t busy.

sometimes he asked how your day was. sometimes he just smiled when you looked too tired to talk.

he never pushed. never lingered too long. but he was there. 

and then he started showing up in your classes, too or maybe he had always been there, and you were just now noticing. he’s slide into the seat next to you without a word, giving you a small, gentle smile when you glanced at him. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“hey,” he whispered, leaning just a little closer.

you finally looked at him, guarded and suspicious. your eyes flickered to the empty seats around you like you were silently asking why he had chosen this one.

he just shrugged, casual, "better view from up here.”

a lie, of course. he barely even knew what the view was. he only knew he didn’t want you sitting alone.

you didn’t say anything. you just went back to your notes, a little more rigid than before.

you didn’t know why he was doing it.

you didn’t trust it.

you didn’t trust him.

but you noticed that he was sweet to everyone, not just you. he helped people pick up their dropped papers, lent out pens without a second thought, held doors open even when his hands were full.

and then came the day he showed up at the café with a small brown bag. you didn’t think anything of it until he placed it on the counter in front of you during your break.

“you didn’t eat lunch again,” he said, almost sheepish. “i figured… maybe you’d be too busy to get anything.”

you blinked at the bag, frozen. nobody noticed that about you, they didn’t care.

you didn’t say anything, taehyung just smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets. “it’s just a sandwich. nothing crazy,” he said lightly. “you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

and before you could even react, he had gone back to his seat— pretending not to watch you. but you could feel his eyes every time you shifted, every time you peeked into the bag.

you told yourself you didn’t owe him anything. you didn’t have to accept kindness from anyone.

but you ate the sandwich anyway. at home. 

and later, when he waited for you outside after your shift “just in case”. you found yourself walking beside him under the streetlights without saying a word.

the rain was relentless. it had been pouring for hours, and by the time you left the café, you were already soaked through. your jeans clinging to your skin, your hair heavy with water, your shoes sloshing as you walked.

you didn’t mind. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to be. you could deal with the rain, like you always did. but as the cold seeped through your clothes, you couldn’t ignore the shiver that ran down your spine.

you pulled your hoodie tighter around you, trying to make yourself smaller, trying to push away the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.

that’s when you heard footsteps behind you. at first, you thought it was just someone else passing by, but when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw him. taehyung.

he was running toward you, his silhouette barely visible in the dark, and before you could even blink, he was there, holding an umbrella over your head.

“you’re going to catch a cold,” he said, out of breath, his eyes wide with concern. 

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t know how to respond. it wasn’t like you wanted him to keep following you, to keep showing up. but part of you— the part you kept locked away was grateful.

he frowned when he saw you shivering, his gaze flicking down to your drenched clothes. without a word, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“it’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm,” he said softly, his voice the same calm, gentle tone you’d grown used to.

you wanted to refuse. you wanted to push him away again. but the warmth of his jacket was too much of a comfort. the way he stood there, patiently waiting for you to say something, made it hard to ignore how much you had come to rely on him even if you hadn’t meant to.

“i didn’t ask for this,” you muttered, your voice barely audible as you pulled the jacket tighter around you, feeling his scent cling to the fabric.

taehyung smiled gently, though there was a sadness in his eyes that you couldn’t ignore. “i know. but i’m here anyway.”

the silence stretched between you, the rain falling in a steady rhythm as you walked side by side, neither of you speaking.

you sat at sophia's kitchen table, a mug of tea cooling between your hands, staring blankly at the steam rising from it. danielle sat across from you, scrolling through her phone, while sophia leaned against the counter, watching you carefully.

“so, what’s going on with you and café boy?” danielle asked casually, not even looking up. you stiffened instantly. “there’s nothing going on,” you said quickly, too quickly.

sophia raised an eyebrow, “really? because my brother saw him waiting outside the café the other night with a damn umbrella and two jackets.”

you glared down at your tea, “he’s just… annoying. he won’t leave me alone.” danielle finally looked up, a small smile playing on her lips. “you know he likes you, right?”

your stomach twisted at the word. you pushed your chair back roughly and stood up, pacing a little. “i don’t want him to like me. i don’t need anyone to like me.”

sophia crossed her arms. “he’s not like—” she started gently, but you cut her off. 

“i don’t care!” you snapped, louder than you meant to. you stopped pacing, breathing hard. “i don’t want him around. i don’t want him waiting for me, bringing me food, looking at me like—” you broke off, shaking your head furiously. “i’m fine alone. it’s easier. it’s safer.”

the room was quiet for a long moment.

danielle set her phone down slowly. “you’re allowed to be scared,” she said softly. “but he’s not the enemy. he’s not… him.” you flinched at the unspoken mention of your ex.

sophia stepped closer, her voice calm but firm, “you’re not weak for wanting something good, you know.”

you laughed bitterly, turning away from them. “good things don’t stay. good things turn into bad things when you’re not looking. i’m not doing this. i’m not letting him think he can fix me.”

neither of them argued. they just stood there, watching you with sad, understanding eyes.

because they knew you. better than anyone and they knew when you made up your mind about something, it was almost impossible to change it.

taehyung dropped into the booth at the diner, shaking the rain from his hair. hoseok and jimin were already there, nursing milkshakes and fries, talking about something stupid. probably plans for the weekend but they both looked up when he slid in.

“you’re late,” jimin said, grinning. “got lost in dreamland again?”

“not dreamland,” hoseok teased. “girl-land.” taehyung rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto the seat beside him.

“seriously though,” jimin said, leaning in. “where have you been disappearing to lately? you’re always sneaking off after class.”

taehyung hesitated for a second, his thumb absently tracing the rim of his water glass. “there’s this girl,” he said finally. both of them immediately leaned in closer, wide-eyed.

“i knew it!” hoseok said, smacking jimin’s arm. “i told you he had that look— the ‘i’m secretly in love’ look.”

“i’m not in love,” taehyung muttered, flushing. “i barely even know her.” 

“yet,” jimin pointed out, smirking. “tell us everything.”

taehyung hesitated again, unsure how to even explain it. he wasn’t good at putting feelings into words. not these kinds of feelings.

“she works at that little café by campus,” he said finally. “she’s … quiet. she barely talks to anyone. but there’s something about her. like she’s carrying the whole world on her back and no one even notices.”

hoseok’s smile faded a little, his expression softening. “sounds like someone who’s been through some shit.” 

taehyung nodded slowly. “yeah. you can see it in her eyes.” he sat back, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why i care so much. i just… i want to be someone she can trust. even if it takes a long time. even if she never really lets me in.”

jimin gave him a look, half teasing, half serious. “you’ve got it bad.”

“i don’t even know if she likes me being around,” taehyung admitted, laughing under his breath. “she barely looks at me. sometimes i think i’m just annoying her.”

“but you’re still trying,” hoseok said simply, nudging his foot under the table. “that’s what matters.”

taehyung smiled to himself, thinking about the way you sometimes bit your lip when you were nervous, the way your hands trembled just slightly when you handed him his coffee, the way you always looked like you were preparing for the worst.

“she’s different,” he said quietly. “and i don’t want to mess it up.”

jimin clapped him on the back with a laugh. “well, knowing you, you’ll annoy her into falling in love eventually.”

taehyung laughed too, but somewhere deep inside, he knew it wasn’t about love. not yet. it was about being there. itwas about not giving up on someone who needed to know they were worth staying for.

and he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

it had been weeks since taehyung started sitting next to you in class, weeks since he brought you food, weeks since he began making small gestures that felt too much like care.

and you hated it.

not because you didn’t appreciate it, but because you did. and that scared you more than anything.

every time he showed up, sitting next to you in lectures, waiting for you after work. you could feel yourself getting closer to breaking. to something real. something that might hurt. something that might ruin you all over again.

so you pushed him away.

“why do you keep doing this?” you snapped at him one afternoon, your fingers trembling as you handed him his coffee. be had been waiting for you outside the café again. the rain had started, but he didn’t care. he stood there, soaked to the bone, holding out a small bag with your lunch in it.

you hated how kind he was. hated how much it made you feel like you didn’t deserve it.

“why are you still here?” you asked, voice cracking as you tried to keep the tears back. “why do you keep bringing me food? why do you keep sitting next to me? stop. you don’t have to do this.”

he looked at you for a moment, calm and unbothered by your words. he always was. “i like you,” he said simply, his voice so soft it made your chest ache.

you recoiled, stepping back, holding up your hands like a shield. “no,” you said firmly, voice shaking. “no, you don’t. you don’t know me. you don’t understand. i’m not… i’m not who you think I am.”

taehyung’s eyes softened, but he didn’t say anything. he just waited.

“you don’t get it,” you continued, your heart pounding in your ears. “i don’t need this. i don’t need you. you don’t need to sit next to me, or bring me lunch, or talk to me anymore. just stay away from me. it’s better this way. just stop, taehyung. please.”

he didn’t flinch. he didn’t argue.

“okay,” he said quietly, a soft, almost sad smile on his lips.

and then, just like that, he left.

he walked away from you. not angrily, not hurt, just… calmly. like he had made up his mind, but wasn’t upset by your words.

you stood there, feeling the weight of what you had just said sink in. you felt sick.

but as you watched him disappear around the corner, something inside you broke. you didn’t know if it was guilt or fear or something else entirely, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.

the next few days were harder than you could have imagined.

you kept waiting for him to show up — for him to sit next to you in class, to wait outside the café, to slip a lunch into your hands with that quiet smile of his.

but he didn’t.

you hadn’t realized how much his presence had come to mean to you until it was gone. you tried to distract yourself with your work, with your textbooks, with the empty noise of the world around you. but every time you reached for your phone, every time you passed by the café window, every time you sat in class. you felt his absence.

danielle and sophia noticed.

“you okay?” danielle asked one evening when you were sitting in the living room, staring at your phone. “you’ve been off lately. did something happen?” you couldn’t look at them. you couldn’t explain.

“he’s not coming back,” you muttered, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice. sophia frowned, “what do you mean? who?”

“taehyung,” you said quietly, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. “i told him to go away. i told him to stop. and he did. he just… left.”

danielle’s eyes softened with understanding. “you didn’t want him to leave, did you?”

you shook your head, clenching your hands together so tightly you could feel your nails digging into your palms.

“i don’t know what i want,” you whispered. “i’m so messed up, i can’t… i can’t even let him care about me. i can’t let him in.”

sophia sat down beside you, rubbing your back gently. “you don’t have to figure it all out right now. but don’t shut people out just because you’re scared.” the words stung, but they were true. 

it felt like a lifetime before you saw him again.

you had almost convinced yourself that he wouldn’t come back. that you had pushed him too far, that you had ruined whatever fragile connection had been building between you.

but then, one evening after your shift, you stepped outside the café to find him standing there again.

he was leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, staring up at the sky. when he heard your footsteps, he turned, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

his gaze softened when he saw you, but there was something in his eyes. something quiet, almost sad.

“i thought you weren’t coming back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

taehyung didn’t smile. he just looked at you for a long moment, taking in the way you seemed smaller, more guarded than usual. he stepped closer, but still kept his distance, like he wasn’t sure if you would push him away again.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he said simply. “i told you before i’m not leaving. i’m not going to stop liking you just because you tell me to.”

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you wanted to tell him everything. all the fears, the pain, the lies you had buried so deep inside you. but instead, you found yourself stepping back, putting space between you two.

“taehyung, please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to let you in. i don’t know how to let you care for me. i’m not who you think i am.”

his eyes softened, but he didn’t back off. he stepped forward, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, even though you wanted to pull away.

“i know who you are,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “i know you’re scared. But i’m not going anywhere. i’m not going to stop.”

weeks passed after that night, and something inside you began to shift. slowly, you let taehyung in. slowly, you stopped pushing him away every time he came too close.

at first, it felt like suffocating. too much kindness. too much patience. too much attention from someone who was supposed to just be a passing acquaintance. but then, piece by piece, it began to feel like healing.

taehyung kept his word. he was there, every single day, without fail. he still sat beside you in class, but now, his presence felt like comfort instead of an intrusion. he still brought you lunch. a sandwich or a small salad, never anything too much, never anything forced. he still walked you home after late shifts, offering you his umbrella when the rain was too heavy, his coat when the air turned cold.

and slowly, you found yourself not recoiling when his hand brushed against yours. you found yourself looking forward to the quiet moments with him, to the laughter that came easily when he told his silly jokes or showed you photos of random things he thought you’d like. you found yourself trusting him in a way you hadn’t trusted anyone in years.

but there were still moments.

moments when the weight of your past hit you like a storm, and you wanted to shut it all out again. you wanted to push him away and hide, to crawl back into the dark place where it was safer. but taehyung didn’t let you.

he was always there, waiting. never pushing. always patient.

one evening, you sat in the café with him after your shift, the shop empty except for the two of you. the hum of the espresso machine was the only sound, and it felt like the world was holding its breath as you finally spoke up.

“i’m sorry,” you said, your voice small. “i’m sorry i pushed you away so much. i didn’t know how to let you in.”

taehyung smiled softly, reaching across the table to gently touch your hand. “i told you i wasn’t going anywhere,” he said, his voice so calm, so certain. “you don’t have to apologize. i’m just glad you let me stay.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of everything you had been holding in. you had been so scared. so terrified of the love you had been denied before. so terrified of trusting someone again. but taehyung had proven, time and time again, that you didn’t have to be scared of him.

“i don’t know how to love again,” you whispered, looking down at your hands. “i’m not sure if i can.”

taehyung’s fingers squeezed yours gently. “you don’t have to know how,” he said softly. “you just have to take it one step at a time.”

and that was enough.

the next few months weren’t easy, but they were real. you learned how to be with someone without expecting them to hurt you, how to trust without fear. taehyung never pressured you. he never tried to fix everything in one day. he just kept being there, even when you had doubts, even when you pulled away.

you learned that love wasn’t something that had to come all at once. it was something that grew, slowly, over time. something that built itself from little moments from the quiet support, the laughter, the shared glances.

and eventually, you found yourself smiling again. really smiling. for the first time in so long, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could love again. you could let someone in without fearing the worst.

with taehyung, you didn’t need to be perfect. you just needed to be you went that was enough.

[simmireen]

Head over heels

The taxi pulled over at my apartment complex. It was just a five minute drive so in the presence of the driver we were quiet. We were hand in hand, me playing lovingly with her fingers. I really wanted to know what she thought of the evening. For me these nights are part of the job, but for her, it's an entire experience, I know. All the people, the photographers, the glam, everything is bigger than she ever could imagine. And then this was a smaller premiere even. 

Even while walking to my apartment door, which I held open for her, she was quiet. She seemed overwhelmed, but in a good way. Taking in all the buzz that happened around her those hours before. And she did amazing, even though I held her close to me all evening, because I know this all is overwhelming to her. Without taking her coat off she walks over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I walk over to her, "My lovely lovely lady. Can I take your coat?". She chuckles and helps me take it off. I walk off to hang it onto a chair at the diner table and walk back. She takes a sip of her water and I wrap my arms around her. Her arousing scent filling my nose. Her naked shoulders are now showing and I am in need to kiss them, so I give in. She looked so beautiful all night and I had difficulties keeping myself sane, because she had this tendency to touch me a lot. 

"And.. What did you think about tonight?", I ask between the kisses. I kiss her close to her neck and I feel her body answering me with a little shiver. She smiles, "A lot of people, but definitely amazing". It stays quiet for a minute, while I'm still gently kissing the silky skin on her shoulders. She takes it in, how I took in her strokes all night- Oh I did take them in, but I had to stay professional, so I couldn't do much more than just holding her close and tight to me and enjoy her touching in silence. Which was hard, but I am so proud that I could finally show my little world this woman is with me. 

"This is your life, already for ... how long?" She asks while I move my hand subtly up from her waist. I really have to restrain myself from making some moves since her body replies to my hands embracing her sides with another soft shiver. While I subtly stroke the side of her breast, I give her another soft kiss on her shoulder and answer her question, ‘Mmm, twenty-five years’. 

It really has been almost twenty-five years. At the end of the year I would be a producer for all those years, of course before becoming a producer, I did several things in the industry. I almost can’t imagine doing something else, but at the same time I know I will be doing something different in the near future, since I still have that job offer in San Myshuno. I basically said I would do it, if I could find an apartment first. I know it’s going to be a big change, but I also know it’s so worth it. As if Minnie could hear my thoughts, she tells me she agrees with Geoffrey. She met my direct boss, Geoffrey Landgraab today. I have worked with him for about twenty years. I think through the years we became, well I don’t think I can call it friends, but good acquaintances in and outside our workfield. Tonight Geoffrey came to introduce himself to Minnie with the statement she would steal me away from him. Of course he said that as a joke, but I also know how Minnie blames herself for me making this decision of moving away from Del Sol Valley for, well, her. “You really shouldn’t give that up Jim”, she says softly. I move in a little closer while I still am taking in her soft skin. She means the fact I have this lifestyle we both encountered tonight. The luxury, the glam, the fame around me. I’m used to that life. I sometimes even choose not to go to the smaller premieres, because they bore me, but sometimes you have to go, to show yourself to the directors and actors you work together with. 

She leans on the counter with one hand while her other hand is touching my hand resting on her waist. I’m still on and off kissing her sensually on her neck and shoulders, her lovely flowery sweet scent that always turns me on reaches deep, while her body still heavily responds to my touches too. I love worshipping her, caressing every inch of her soft skin. I gently move my hands up to cup her breasts -God, that’s such a manly thing to do- but I can’t help it, but clearly she doesn’t mind, because she starts leaning forward with two hands on the counter so her ass stroke my intimate area which makes my pants become a little tight. “After all that time, these parties become very monotonous. Definitely if you are always the one who comes alone.”, I answer absentmindedly. It is true, being alone at an event like tonight is kinda lonely. So the fact I could finally bring her, but also the fact she stayed close to me all night instead of taking a distance, which she normally does when we are in public, means so much to me. She becomes more confident next to me, and I want her to know. I find her ear and whisper, “So, sharing this with a gorgeous lady that stands next to me, that I want to show off to everyone, looks way too sexy and arouses me with every touch she made tonight, makes my choice so much easier”. I want her, I only want her. This job has become meaningless for me since she is in my life, which is a miracle, not even a year ago this job meant everything to me. She does things to me, I’m head over heels, but physically she lets me burn inside. She drives me crazy, gives me the worst primal needs, like grabbing both of her boobs just now, that’s so not like the man I want to be. I blame the ‘staying professional’ rule I gave myself tonight. Right now, I don’t have to restrain myself any longer, I slowly move my hand down. She leans forward a little more on the counter and gasps when I reach her inner thigh. Her breathing quickens while I am still playfully moving my fingers around that thigh area. 

Fairly sudden she turns around and pants while she says my name. The first thought that comes up is that I went too fast, did something she wasn’t ready for, “Sorry, I let myself go for a minute-” but she interrupts me with a hard no. “Don’t apologize”. Her breathing stabilizes a little again and she says my name again, “Jim, you are everything a woman wants. You are a real gentleman, you put me on a pedestal. You are so very passionate about the things you love.” Oh, she is right, I’m very passionate about her, I want to answer, but she doesn’t let me, she looks away. “And you are so.. so very attractive”, she sighs, leaving out a heavy breath after saying that compliment. I’m flattered, I’m silenced. I know she isn’t that outspoken about what she feels for me. A few butterflies wake up in my stomach and flutter around. “And above all, you have the lifestyle everyone dreams about. You really shouldn’t give that up. Not for me”, she continues. And there it is, her insecure inner thoughts about the thought that she doesn’t deserve me, that she doesn’t deserve my love, love in general. Is that what I like about her so much? The fact I want to make her happy, the fact I can be the one who makes her happy? She is the very reason I want to give it all up. I want to make her happy. That lifestyle? - I don’t give a fuck about it anymore. Yeah it’s nice to be able to buy a nice car and a good suit, but I’d rather buy ten pairs of heels for her, “but what if I’m tired of that lifestyle, and am willing to give that all up for something I am way more passionate about?” I answer. Now she is silenced. I still hold her tight, because when she turned around facing me, I didn’t give her much space. When I’m explaining her the rest of why this glamorous world is as fake as it is, I see her thoughts racing. Her mind is finding reasons again why she doesn’t deserve me. I see her slipping away, so I find her back with my hand and pull her closer to me. She looks at me with her big brown eyes, only now scared, silenced. Her hand caresses my face and there it is, “What if, eventually, the light you see in me… dims?”, she whispers softly and looks away. I understand that question, it comes from deep within and answers why she is this broken beautiful fragile woman. She is afraid I will leave her, what her ex-husband did, and he did it without any warning. This hits me deep also, because in some way I was a man like that. Only I never left anyone, but it was my fault my marriage collapsed. Because yes, the brighter light I followed was my work and now I am leaving my work for this mesmerizing woman. Am I that simple? Clearly I am. Besides, I also learned a lot about myself these last years and ending up alone is something I secretly am a little scared of. 

“I don’t think it will”, I answer her in all honesty. It’s not the straight up answer she is looking for, but I stay calm, because she isn’t. “You don’t know”, she replies as if she can hear my thoughts. “Nope, that’s very true. We never know.” She stares at me again with her big beautiful eyes. “We can’t look into that future Minnie. But for now I am very, very sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If these three months define my life with you, I’m looking forward to the rest”, I reassure her. A deep breath leaves her mouth, into mine. Nothing is a lie about that. These three months are the happiest my life has ever been and she is the reason. “Let’s look at it day by day”. With every word I say, I see her giving in to my reassurance, so I decide to continue a little more. “Today I fell in love with you even more. I want you, more than ever. This evening you showed me how much you fit into this lifestyle. The confidence you had tonight. How beautiful you look with your outfit and new heels, how kind you are to my colleagues. How sweet, arousing and sexy you are.” I push her gently against the counter and she moves her arm around my neck. She always melts into me if I tell her how much I want her. And I want her, desperately. I know she wants it too, because the tension between us reached a new high. I move my hand to her leg and in an automatic response she lifts it up. I chuckle, “but I’m very selfish by telling you what I want, but way more important is what you want. What do you want my beautiful lady?”. She swallows, looks away and it stays quiet for a few seconds. My eyes still locked on her, she looks back to me and whispers, so almost no one could hear it, “You.”

She sighs. 

“I want you. I need you.” 

I lean my body closer to her, if that’s even possible, my hands find both of her legs and pull them both up so she gets lifted up the kitchen counter. And I give her the kiss I've wanted to give her since we came home. One where you forget everything around you. Sucked into each other’s presence. Giving into the tension that’s built up all day long. From the moment she walked the red carpet next to me, from the moment we sat together in the dark theatre trying not to touch each other constantly to the moment after the movie when Geoffrey told me the fact she is the lucky one for me. Her way of fiddling with my shirt and suit she did after I confessed that she is indeed the lucky one, made it very clear she didn’t really know what to do with that tension. It all came out now. I couldn’t hold myself any longer. I barely could hold in the impure thought of how much I wanted to pull that jumpsuit off of her and take her right onto my counter, but no. She deserves the pleasure all night long. She is that lucky one, that drives me insane and I never have felt this way about any woman in my life. I love her, I want her and I definitely need her in my life. I stop the kiss to breathe and look into eyes that are full of desire for more. God, I need her. I really really need her. “And you have no idea how much I need you…”

We fall into the passionate kiss again. I gently pull her off the counter and guide her out of my kitchen, along the diner table, to the bedroom door. When we are inside, I close the door and push her gently to the door so she is locked between me and the door. I lift her up against the door, which startles me, but clearly my instincts take over my sanity. Her soft lips on mine, her tongue playing with mine. 

I can hold her for a little while, and she helps with locking her legs around my waist, but while kissing, it’s a tough job to do. I haven’t been working out in a while, and that’s what I feel right now. In the little breathing break I decide to kiss her neck again. I have her lifted and pushed against my bedroom door, where she is currently taller than me, so it’s a free play for me. A soft moan of pleasure fills the room. 

I decide to make it easier for myself and walk two steps backwards until I hit the edge of my bed and make myself sit with her still on top of me, kissing me passionately. Her on top of me, yes please, this is so very sexy. This Minnie I haven’t seen yet, I know she always holds back in some way and doesn’t show me exactly what she wants. Maybe also my fault because I feel like I’m responsible for pleasing her and taking the lead, but I would die if Minnie would take control sometimes. I open my eyes to take a look at her. Our eyes meet and she stops kissing. Flutters in my stomach. My heart skipping a beat or two. A silence full of feelings. Her hands find the buttons of my shirt and undresses my jacket and shirt. I decide not to do anything, yet, but it’s hard to contain myself. Her warm hands stroke my chest and I softly lean backwards until I feel my pillows and pull her with me. I have her on top of me now, with her head on my chest, but before I could make my next move, she surprises me with kisses on my collarbone. She traces my neck with more kisses, my chest, lowering to my belly until she meets the edge of my pants. I let out a groan because I can’t contain myself much longer. Bewildered, I push myself up and look at her and meet with a set of surprised eyes. Now it’s my turn, I move her to the edge of my bed to find the zipper on the side of her jumpsuit. I undress her- sadly I had to take off her heels. It reveals a lace panties again. Help me. She dressed up entirely, but my impure thoughts tell me to get it all off.. There she is, standing in front of me in all her naked beauty. I undo myself from my shoes and my pants. Including my boxershort. My erection showing proud.

I pull her beautiful naked body onto me again, so I have her on top of me. Skin to skin. She pushes me onto the pillow again and starts giving me a deep kiss again. The weight of her on me is pleasant. With my hands on her hips I control how much she moves, but she still has me in total control. “You really should stop surprising me”. I know Minnie looks very shy and insecure and innocent to the outside world, I know different by now. As long as you give her a warm and trusted safe place where she can be herself, she shows how lustful she is. “What did I do?”, she asks with a little smirk. Oh, she definitely knows what she is doing. “And then she asks me what she does”, I answer playfully. She chuckles. 

I find her hands and lock her fingers into mine so I can push her up so she sits on top of me, but I continue to push her onto her back so I am on my knees above her. She should be pleased first. I don’t think with her on top of me, I could have lasted very long. My finger is lovingly stroking the curves of her naked body while she looks at me full of desire. “Can I kiss you?”, I ask. I wish I could make love all night with this woman. Please her multiple times. Kiss her whole body. She nods, she knows I mean something different than kissing her on her lips. I make my way down and pause for kisses on her breasts, her belly and her hips tighten while I move down to the place where I wanna be. I start slow but speed up the pace little by little. Her heavy breathing tells me she likes what I do. It doesn’t take long until she starts moaning softly and I feel her body tightening up. I feel her grabbing the sheets with both of her hands and she lets out a moan I never heard her making before. Can she get even sexier?

I slowly stop what I’m doing while I feel her body go back into relaxed mode. She is breathing heavily still and caresses my head with both of her hands. I move up again hovering over her and stare into the most beautiful face I have seen tonight. “I love you”, she stammers. 

“I love you too”, I answer with a huge smile. 

She lowers her hands to grab my hips and slowly pulls me back onto her. She is very much not innocent at all tonight, a groan escapes while she folds her legs around me. I know I can handle waiting patiently, but I can’t help craving her even more after the climax I just gave her. I want her. Badly. 

She gently pulls my head to her face and gives me an intense kiss. I softly grind my hips against her and she whimpers. I stop and look into two craving eyes. “Can I..?”, I whisper. I always make sure I ask for consent, she knows. She nods slowly, whispers a yes and kisses me again. I tilt my hips and push myself slowly in her. 

This feeling, melted together deeply, making love, is the most intense and happy feeling I have ever had. I don’t think I have had this before in my entire life. 

Is that what the love of your life is supposed to be? 

Then I found her. 

Want to know more about these two (mostly in images - see my (way too long story on instagram or discord channel)

[carpesabrina]

“I’m glad that it’s bothering you less as we talk about it. I do love when you spend your money on me. I live for presents.” She laughed. But it wasn’t wrong, she was a girl and loved getting gifts. She looked forward to it when she knew there was a chance that she could get something. She let out a small moan as he kissed her neck, her hands gripping onto his biceps. “I can’t wait to see what you have planned for me,” she smirked. She did love when he planned things, for the bedroom. They were always a surprise, and so far she had liked it all. Maybe she was just obsessed with sex, and that’s why she was into almost everything. “Yeah, daddy can only taste. I can’t deny you from eating my pussy, I know how much you like to do that.” She murmured, letting her hands move up to his shoulders.  “An unknown partner? That’s a lie. It would definitely say, Maxwell Jacob Friedman, the best wrestler in the world, dies from having his cocked gripped so tight by her pussy,” she corrected him. He was definitely becoming more known in her world, especially after the Juno arrest. The videos of them were everywhere online. They had been talked about so much in such a short period of time.

She laughed, nodding in agreement. “The drinking won’t happen much. Not like that. That’s for special occasions.” She loved going out with her friends and having a few drinks. But to get blackout drunk, or close to it, that didn’t happen to often for her unless she was in Vegas or a big parties of sorts. Especially since he didn’t drink, she didn’t want to drag him into the big old partier world. That would just give his family more leverage to not like her in the long run. Or even for him to start disliking who he had became just by dating her. As she started moving, she was surprised he didn’t start touching her, or even thrusting into her. But she quickly realized that he couldn’t. No one that worked for her, touched her.  She let out a louder moan as she felt him finally thrusting into her. “I love how your cock stretches me out,” she said softly.  Her gaze dropped onto his pleading eyes as he begged to keep his job. It was a different side of him, a more weak one that he was letting out for her. And this was new for her, she had never been in control before. Or even role-played something like this. “you can keep your job, but only if you can make me cum.” her voice more stern as her hand moved the back of his head, her fingers tangling into his dark locks as she tugged his head back. She leaned in, pressing kisses against his neck, going up to his ear. “you can touch me and kiss me,” she finally answered his question from earlier. “but no thrusting. i want to fuck your cock. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you pound into me later.” She told him, her hand moving to his chin and tilting his head up as she bent down to kiss him hungrily. She knew this had to be fast, she wasn’t sure if anyone would come out of the building. Her hips moved hard and fast. Sabrina’s nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m so close,” she moaned into the kiss, but broke it. Her walls clinging to him as she hit her high, “fill my pussy up with your cum.” She murmured, “I want all of it.” The blonde kept moving her hips, purposely squeezing her walls harder around his cock. 

It was stupid to Max because he was a grown man and shouldn't feel this way but he appreciated her saying it wasn't stupid or thinking he was being ridiculous. "The more we talk about it the less it bothers me if that helps. I do love spending money on you though because you look so happy and I live to see your eyes light up and you smile that bright." He smirked at her question and winked at her. "Oh you'll find out baby doll." He loved hearing her moan for him and pulled her head back kissing along her neck. "Oh so daddy can taste his little girl's pussy. I'll clean every drop darlin'and show you what a good daddy I am to you." This was different but she was driving it and he was letting her. Perhaps this was a kink she had and if so then he would play to it. He didn't always have to be in control, he usually was but she was indeed different to any woman he had been with before and he was happy to indulge her in whatever kinks she had or thought she might have.

"I could think of worse ways to die." He said teasing with her. "I can see the headlines now. Pop singer dies with huge cock inside of her. Unknown partner dies from having his cock gripped so tight by her pussy that it cuts off his circulation… but what a way to go." he laughs and kissing her. "The drinking was a lot but I loved he outcome, public sex on the dance floor and being a fake husband to the love of my life." He was sure there were more adventures they would have together, more kinks they would discover and some they would adapt to for each other unless it was way out there. He couldn't really think of something he would be against trying with her and loved seeing how turned on she could get with each new kink. As he told her to come to him he watched as she obeyed and smiled. She was such a good girl wanting to please him but tonight was more about pleasing her and letting her be in control to see if she was comfortable in that role. He had been quite turned on watching her as 'boss' backstage, having control over every aspect of the tour so tonight she got to be boss again but over him this time. "Anything for you, Miss Carpenter. Your safety is my utmost concern. It's what you pay me the big bucks for." What better way to get rid of his insecurity then to play to it. "Yes ma'am, very generous of you." He said as she pushed him down and watched her straddle his lap. A moan came from him as she stroked his cock and he was hard to keep his hands to himself but he reminded himself that he was her employee and not paid to touch his boss unless she instructed him to. "Whatever you want Sa…Miss Carpenter. I'm here for your satisfaction and to make sure no one touches you against your will." A groan came from his lips as she lowered herself down onto his cock…"Fuck… all for you boss….may I touch your.." Another groan as his eyes fluttered. "breasts and kiss you." It strangely a turn on to ask permission for things he did freely. He loved that in the light anyone could see them fucking if they hadn't been on secluded grounds. "May I speak freely, Miss Carpenter?" He moaned out as he accidently let his hands grip her hips and thrust hard up into her. Realizing he broke the rules he moved his hands. "I'm sorry for touching you without permission first. Please don't fire me. I'll do anything you want. I need this job." His voice pleading as he looked into her eyes. This wasn't bad at all. Different for damn sure but very interesting and she seemed turned on getting to fuck her employee.

[dokidokistart]

link to the store here

[tojipie]

˚ ✧ ────────

you’re 5 minutes into your first round and to be quite honest, you’ve never been more sure that fushiguro toji and his god given ability to dirty talk is something you’ll take to your grave.

you’d been with other guys before, ones with a nasty habit of running their mouths during sex. ones that’d grab you by the neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how they couldn’t wait to fuck you again.

toji is entirely different. nothing, and i truly mean nothing, compares to that old man when it comes to mouthing off in the bedroom. he’s formulating sentences you never thought possible, spewing stuff that would have you clutching your pearls and running for the hills any other given day.

you’re holding onto your composure by your teeth hearing him say the things he does, thighs and arms burning as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“take what you need pretty. uh huh, keep fucking me,” he chuckles, winding a fist into your hair to pull you back onto his cock when he notices you trying to crawl away.

you honestly don’t think you can take it anymore. if the way your guts were currently being pummeled into oblivion wasn’t enough, the way he’s talking to you right now has you in crisis.

it’s all too good, suspiciously good, and embarrassingly enough, you think you might be nearing your edge only 7 minutes after making it to his bed. your arms fail you as you try to crawl up the bed and away from the too-good feeling currently frying every wire in your brain.

“awww, you runnin’ from me?,” he laughs, letting your hair go to cage you in from behind, two solid arms settling on either side of your head.

your words escape you each time you muster up a response, eyes rolling back and he takes over again, shoving you face down and absolutely destroying that special spot tucked away inside of you. toji’s like a furnace, cooking you alive with the heat the radiates add his abs and chest.

“told ya you couldn’t handle it,” he teases, watching you writhe under him. “not with this dick.”

you feel something wet—a tongue you realize— traveling up the base of your spine and tapering off at your neck before solid teeth clamp down on the skin there.

okay, wow. fuck. you realize he’d lapped up the moisture settling in the dip of your back, licking the sweat from your skin like an animal.

“gonna let me taste every part of you? hmm?” he says in that too sweet voice you only hear when he’s teasing. he lets go of your neck with a pop to admire the bruise his bite leaves in its wake, sucking another one right under it for good measure.

you fall over the edge with no warning, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your mind and body continue to work separately.

the sound toji makes is beautiful. low, long, and guttural. radiating from the deepest part of his chest like a fan, and for a minute, you think he might be feeling the same overwhelming pleasure you are.

“ughh-hah don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers over and over, massaging the fat of your ass while your body flutters around him. you feel something viscous leak out of you, dripping down the seam of your heat and onto the sheets.

“when the fuck did you have time to cum?,” you finally muster. you don’t think you’d be able to move if your life depended on it, limbs sinking into the mattress like tubes of jelly. you really can’t move once you feel 200 pounds of laughing muscle settle on top of you, keeping you grounded like a paperweight on a measly little envelope.

“what, y’ quitting on all of this?” he laughs, gesturing up and down himself so you know just how irresistible he thinks he is. the worst part is that he’s right, just based off of how hard he’d rocked your world in the last 10 or so minutes.

you feel invigorated by some stroke of a miracle, pressing back on his still-leaking dick as a silent invitation.

“what, more? y’need more of me you little minx?” he laughs, grrriiiinding his tip right up against that fleeting spot you would have never been able to get to on your own.

and just like that he’s back to fucking you, pulling you into him like a toy at that same perfect pace.

“bite me hard if y’ want me to stop, you hear me?” he commands, shoving your face back into the pillows once he sees you nod.

[arolesbianism]

Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats

[dollfacefantasy]

kinktober day 20 - size kink jason todd x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, size kink, tummy bulge

"That's it, baby. Take it all. Oh, look at you go. Being so brave for me."

On the surface the words are soothing, but the tone of Jason's voice fills each syllable with condescension. Not in a bad way. The sickly sweet lilt strikes the perfect chord that has you wetter than any body of water on this earth.

Your hips rise and fall in measure rolls, your cunt embracing his thick cock with every motion. You have to take it slow. Otherwise, you feel like you'll tear yourself in half.

"Jay…" you whimper, lip wobbling and eyes gleaming with the need for him to coddle you, "You're so…"

A sharp whine from your throat cuts off your own words. Your head tilts back and then hangs forward. His tip brushes your sweet spot every time you sink down on him. It makes it nearly impossible to remain coherent. You'd never met somebody who could make you malfunction like this.

"I'm so what?" he coos, prompting you to finish your statement. He already knew the words on the tip of your tongue, but he still wanted to hear them spoken into the drafty air of your apartment.

"You're so big," you choke out.

Another moan falls from your lips before you grit your teeth. Your face scrunches up in tandem with your walls clenching around his length. Vaguely, you hear him chuckle. He then pulls you close and cradles you against his chest.

"And you like that, don't you?" he whispers.

He slumps further down on the couch. His feet press hard against the smooth wooden floor beneath the two of you. The muscles in his thighs flex as he begins to pump his hips up and down. You whine and clutch at his meaty bicep, melting against his warm skin and letting him do all the work right now.

You nearly forget he asked a question at all until he continues speaking.

"I know you do, doll. You like that when you're with me, you're helpless. Don't have to think. Don't have to move. Don't have to do anything but let me use this sweet, little pussy till I'm satisfied," he says.

Your toes curl, your thighs clamping around his own. The pressure doesn't stop him from moving though, not in the slightest. You inhale sharply before nodding against his neck. Of course, you like this. You love it.

You could never get enough of Jason's body. You'd study it forever if he let you. Your pupils felt magnetized whenever they had the chance to drift along his chiseled torso or mentally map the pathways of his scars. Adoration wasn't a strong enough word for how you felt in regards to his figure. Obsession seemed more appropriate.

Fortunately for you, Jason behaved much the same about your body.

In the mornings when he thought sleep still had a strong hold on you, he'd run his fingers over every curve he could find. He'd knead the swell of your ass and press tender kisses between your shoulder blades. As you'd start to wake, he'd wrap his hands around your waist and nearly pop a boner right then and there from how large they looked in comparison.

His favorite thing in the world after a long grueling patrol fast became coming home to you. Not even thirty minutes with your delicate body washed away all the stress caused by hard and rough people he dealt with beyond these walls. Some nights he'd prop your dainty legs over his broad shoulders and dive into your slippery cunt. Other nights he'd get right down to it, shoving his fat cock inside you and watching your belly bulge with the intrusion.

Tonight hadn't been either of those. He'd been home for a change. But having you curled up to his side and pressed against him while he read a book got him worked up pretty fast. It wasn't his fault the two of you just seemed to fit so naturally together.

"My good girl. Soft and sweet all for me," he praises as he continues fucking up into you. His heavy balls lightly slap against your ass with each thrust.

Your nails dig into his shoulder as the repetitive strokes start to build on one another. Small, whimpered expletives drip from your lips like a leaky faucet. He knows you're getting there. All he has to do is ramp up his efforts a little.

His hands lock around your waist like they do on hazy mornings. Just like then, he's obsessed with the way your skin dimples beneath his digits now. He boosts you back and starts bouncing you up and down in addition to his thrusts.

Your eyes roll back at the sensation and you take your bottom lip between your teeth. You don't have to do anything in this position still. He's strong enough to hold you upright all by himself. The only thing you had to do was like he said - stay still and let yourself be used.

"Can never get enough of you, baby, fuck," he grunts. His head falls back against the sagging cushion as he keeps working himself into you over and over. He glances back up at you slightly. "Is it feeling good?"

"Mhm," you whine, "So fuckin' good. So deep. All the way inside."

Your head bobbles around with the way he jerks you up and down on his lap. He smirks at your words and the airy way you say them.

"I know. I can see it," he responds, eyes flitting down to that faint and familiar bump. Evidence of his place inside you.

You only whimper in response. He drops you back down against his chest so one of his hands can slot against your center and rub your clit in fast, tight circles. The flickering feeling draws even more noises of pleasure from you.

The edge sneaks up on the both of you fast. You fall over it first. Your body spasms and seizes between his hands, but his strong grip is enough to keep you in place. For him, it explodes in a muted burst of ecstasy before burning into a brighter one. He wraps his arms around your smaller frame and keeps you flush against his sweaty skin as he fucks his load deep inside.

The both of you stay there while you come down. His chest puffs up and down with deep breaths. Even with all his exertion, his hand rubs soothing stripes along the column of your spine. You lie against him completely motionless, limp against the muscles of his chest. A little pleasure doll all for him to play with.

[chastiefoul]

love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel

fluff, fluff, FLUFF

zayne

his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in

he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.

“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.

he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”

you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”

you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.

you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”

“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”

xavier

he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.

he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.

your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?

xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.

you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.

“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive  you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.

you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”

rafayel

oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it���s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.

“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”

“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.

you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.

“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.

finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.

“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.

[stellawish]

precious

summary: just cuteness thats it

MY LOVE❤️‍🔥

he’s not up yet?

nah steel sleeping😴

okay omw

Satoru looked away from the phone and glanced at his son. He rubbed his still-closed eyes with tiny fists. Gojo expected crying, but his baby just sighed.

Your son almost always woke up without fuss, greeting you or Satoru with his sweet smile. But lately, he’s been crying more often during that fine line between the sweet remnants of sleep and waking up. Teething is to blame.

Satoru turned to his side, placed his large palm on Haru’s plump belly, and slowly stroked it. "Papa’s here."

Although Gojo always sulks when the little boy sleeps (since his baby is so cute and he always wants to play with him), there have been times when he accidentally woke Haru during naps because he kissed and poked his chubby son too hard. You always scold him for that.

But now he understands that his little one sleeps restlessly, so he tries to protect his light sleep.

Lost in thought, Gojo didn’t notice any movement beside him until he felt tiny fingers wrapping around his much larger one.

Haru turned his head and smiled sweetly, revealing dimples on his flushed cheeks.

"Hi, baby! Did you have a good nap?"

Your son stretched his short arms, then rolled onto his stomach, smiling shyly. Gojo pulled him closer, supporting his back. Sitting next to him, Haru rubbed his sleepy eyes and yawned.
Gojo kissed his son’s soft tummy.

Haru moved even closer to his father, rubbing his chubby cheek against Gojo's like a kitten.

"Aww, my baby!"

Your husband definitely passed on the gene for the love of physical contact to his boy.

Satoru cooed, "I missed you too! Now tell Papa, what dreams did you have? Was Mama there?" Haru babbled as if answering the question.

When you said you gave birth to an exact copy of Gojo, you weren't even kidding. Besides the identical appearance, your son was just as talkative as his papa.

Gojo lay on his back and put his son on top. Haru reached out his hands to Papa's face and patted his cheeks while giggling. Satoru wiped the drool from his rosy lips and stroked his soft cheek.

"You're the most precious baby in the whole world," Gojo cooed.

"Ahuu"

more dad!gojo and Haru HERE

guys if you want me to add you to my taglist lmk

luv you!💫

all rights reserved ©stellawish. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[teojira]

[Click Click Boom] [Shadow x Reader short stories]

Summary: You're set to be Shadow's companion to keep an eye on him and keep him in line, a courtesy from the goverment for him saving the world with Sonic and the others.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Can be read as platonic or romantic! Shadow/reader romance is implied though! You're human in this, age is vague but you're meant to be in your 20s.

Disclaimer: Shadow is an adult, and as for the furry debate, he's literally an adult who can consent and is sentient, don't like? Don't read!

A/N: I've literally been obsessed with this fucker since I was a literal child and it's the first time I've written for him!! The trailer yas me going insane. This is written well before the movie has come out, literally all I got to work with is Shadow in the trailer and the bits and pieces of info I psychoanalized so I don't wanna hear shit about it not being accurate tbh, this is self indulgent!!

Shadow isn't the worst task you've been assigned, you both are more akin to awkward roommates more than anything.

I'm talking randomly lingering in the corners of the room, his bright red eyes glowing and they always seemed to be locked right onto you.

You screamed the first dozen times, but now you just glare at the black hedgehog and spit out a "fuck you." and go about your business.

He'll never admit that it brings him infinite amusement, it's hard to tell, but the huff he lets out is evidence enough.

Shadow will never admit he cares for you, he loses everyone he cares for, and humans don't live that long. It's terrifying to think about how much he's come to like you.

He's not nearly as slick as he thinks he is.

You're sitting down at the dinner table, typing away on your laptop, editing the mission report from the other day when Shadow makes his way towards you. Sending him a nod in his direction, you don't think of anything when he moves in close.

A huge slam takes you off guard though, jumping damn near out of your skin as you twist your head to look at him.

"What the fuck-"

"Take it."

It's one of Shadow's guns, his emblem being engraved along the stock.

"What? No, I have guns." You raise an eyebrow at the hog, his face is perfectly still, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to grab the heckler.

"Your guns are worthless, you need something better."

"Well excuse me, I so happen to like my guns." You try and joke back, but the offense is taken.

Shadow rolls his eyes so hard you're scared that he's gonna blind himself. Jutting his chin towards the table once more to get your focus back onto it.

"If you have one of mine, I know you're safe." He doesn't elaborate. Not that he needs to.

"...Thank you, Shad."

All you get is a grunt in response, and he's on his way back to his room.

Gingerly picking up the weapon, you take in how pristine it is, a thumb caressing your small initials that you missed on the other side of the stock.

With Shadow saving the world, the reeking of havoc makes it to where he's limited to what he is allowed to do in the public eye.

Not that he listens, he isn't supposed to be out after curfew. But to be fair, it is extremely hard to keep a teleporting hedgehog confined to a meager two-story house.

You can hear him teleport above you, he's on the roofs of the nearby building, leering down at you.

It was a small errand you were on, simply stocking up on the essentials for the house.

Namely, snacks for Shadow, he doesn't ask for a lot other than coffee beans and Doritos.

You are choosing to ignore the fact that he eats the coffee beans straight up, the crunch echoes through your head and it sends a shudder down your spine.

He was adamant against you leaving the house this late, standing in front of the front door.

"No."

"Fuck you mean no?"

"I said no."

"....I don't listen to men."

And you weaved around him to leave the house, ignoring his shout of disapproval.

That leads you both to here now, you pretending you don't see him trailing you from the rooftops as you walk your way back home from the small shopping center.

You feign surprise when he opens the house door for you, begrudgingly sticking a hand out to help you with your bags.

"Oh! Thank you my knight in shining armor~"

"Shut it."

He's never told you his birthday, which you can understand, living for 50 years and not having your family around must be hard. No matter how he may fake that it doesn't bother him.

That doesn't stop you, not in the slightest really. You damn near kick him out of the house for the day, shoving him over to Tom and Maddie's house so he can be with the others. Despite how much he protested.

"I don't want to go over there. Not with that blue fake."

"You don't really have a choice bub, I need you out of the house."

"I don't understand why I have to-"

"Keep arguing with me and I will make it a point to not buy you shit next grocery trip."

It's an empty threat, but he grunts nonetheless.

"...."

"That's what I thought."

When he finally gets home from his long and admittedly overstimulating day with the Wachowskis, he's ready to recharge in his room.

He teleports through the house door, sighing and rubbing at his temples as he moves to kick off his shoes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd chastise him for not doing so.

Something about tracking dirt and rocket fuel into the carpet.

Whatever.

After trying to massage his brain through his fur, he opens his eyes up to see a colorful banner strung across the mantle.

'Happy birthday!' It screams, in its disgustingly neon color palette.

Shadow wracks his brain for any information of it being your birthday, he knows for a fact it isn't today. A friend you're throwing a party for? Well, that makes no sense, he knows very well you don't have many friends, especially any that you'd invite your house up for.

You're antisocial to a fault, not that he has absolutely any room to talk.

He hears you before he sees you, turning the corner into the living room, carrying some balloons in your hands. A stupid little party hat on your head.

"Shadow! What are you doing back so early?"

Kicking off the last shoe, he stands at his full height, staring into your eyes with a shrug.

"I wasn't aware I had a time."

"....fair enough, anyways, fuck, goddamnit. Stay here. Okay?"

And you're off, running into the kitchen, his ears flick at the slamming of the fridge door, followed by the cabinets being no doubt, hip nudging it shut way too forcefully.

He's awkwardly standing there still until you yell for him to come in.

Shadow has half a mind to ignore you and go into his room, but curiosity kills the cat, so he takes in a deep breath and makes his way to you.

He finds you sitting at the little kitchenette, a nervous smile spread across your lips as you gesture to the plate in front of you.

The smell is apparent, it's a coffee cupcake.

The hedgehog feels his ears flick again, staring down at the desert, then trailing his eyes back to meet your own. Wordlessly asking you what was going on.

"You've never told me your birthday, but it's been a year since you've been here, with me. After the whole trying to destroy the world shit. So since you won't tell me, we can kinda treat this as it?" You keep rambling, eyes flitting around the room, very clearly nervous as to his reaction.

Shadow doesn't say anything, or move even. Just staring down at the cupcake.

It looks amateurish, the frosting is lopsided, and the toppings on it look messy. But you made it for him. You even added a big black "1" candle in the center.

He doesn't know what to say, he can feel heat rush through his body, rushing to his ears and his face, and his fur feels constricting.

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck.

You go to open your mouth again, no doubt to apologize, but he beats you to it.

Moving to scoop up the treat, he gently sniffs it before taking a cautionary bite.

A beat passes between the two of you.

"...it's good."

Shadow does his best to ignore the smile that blooms across your face, not wanting to remember just how pretty he finds you like this.

Disgusting.

Shadow doesn't like touch, you know it, he knows it, and everyone knows it. He's threatened to break Sonic's wrist for even so much as patting the older hedgehog on the back. Baring his sharper fangs and hissing out to not touch him ever.

He avoids group hugs from Team Sonic, avoids Tom and Maddie like the plague, dodging every invitation to be a part of the family, it makes him sick to think about it.

With you, it's a little different.

You're not like them, you don't push him to change, you don't have a problem with how closed off he is, giving him space, never once pushing his very strict boundaries.

Something churns in his chest at the sound of you crying in your room, you probably think you're being incognito, holding a pillow to your face to drown out your sobs.

The internal debate is heavy, Shadow used to be able to comfort, to provide warmth, but he hasn't done so in years. Flashes of memories where he would comfort Maria on her bad health days, letting her run her fingers over his quills, to lend an ear to Gerald when he was frustrated about treatments not working.

It's not to say he is replacing you in their place, but it's scary. To open himself up like that again. He can feel his anxiety rising as he goes over the pros and cons of crossing this line. Eyes squeeze shut forcefully as he tells himself he doesn't care about you, that you're an adult, and you don't need to be babied.

His ears twitch when a pathetic little whimper drops from your lips, and his resolve cracks.

You don't look up when he makes his way in, too stuck in your bubble.

Startling a little when two, much stronger and larger hands grab at your own, peeling them away from the pillow. Your puffy bloodshot eyes looking at the hedgehog in front of you, his face set as it usually is, stoic. But his eyes are different, and his body language is different, when has he ever looked at you so softly? It's jarring.

Oh, he's moving closer. Okay. Weird.

"Shadow? Uh, I'm ok-"

You try and lie, it's a pitiful attempt. Your voice is scratchy and the tear tracks down your cheeks aren't helping your plight.

"No, you're not."

He shuts you down immediately, hands sliding up your arms to drag you into him.

The instant your bodies touch, you feel a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes again.

Shadow has you resting against him, your head resting on him as he wraps himself loosely in your arms, giving you the space to move away if you so choose.

It's the first time he's allowed you to hug him, the first time he's ever initiated contact with someone in years. A fact that you both are well aware of.

A sob works its way up your throat, immediately tightening your grip on the hedgehog, curling into him as you shake.

Shadow doesn't say anything, doesn't make fun of you as snot pours from your nose, doesn't point out that your mascara and eyeliner are getting everywhere, just sits there and lets you cling onto him like he's your only lifeline.

He thinks that this is okay, he's strong enough for you both, and you don't need to worry when he's here.

[fromdove]

THINGS YOU DO THAT THE BATBOYS FIND ATTRACTIVE ! batboys x reader

“God, you’re impossible. And I’m so screwed, because I think I’d let you ruin me.”

— fem!reader, suggestive thoughts in jasons & bruces part (maybe dick too??)

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

JASON TODD

the way you hold eye contact when you're angry

It started as a slow simmer—your voice, low and clipped, each word deliberate, sharp enough to slice through the heavy Gotham air. Jason wasn’t even sure what the hell you were mad about anymore. The way your eyes were locked on his, unwavering, lit from within by something electric—it drowned out everything else.

You stood across the room, spine straight, chest rising with each measured breath. Not yelling. Not crying. Just...burning. And looking at him.

There was something about that. The way you didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Like you could take every jagged, bloodstained part of him and still meet him dead-on, like you’d never blink first. It made his heart twist in his chest, something old and animal uncoiling inside him. He’d faced down murderers, monsters, lowlife scumbags—but the fury in your gaze made his throat go dry. Not because he feared it. Because he wanted to touch it. touch you.

You took a step forward, the kind that didn’t echo but reverberated, and that subtle movement—how your hands stayed relaxed at your sides, how your mouth didn’t tremble when you spoke—undid him.

“Don’t try to bullshit me, Jason.”

There was a beat. One taut, blistering moment where the only thing louder than your breath was the pounding in his ears.

And then he laughed. Just a breath of it, almost involuntary. The kind of laugh you get when something hurts and turns you on at the same time. He didn’t even mean to. It just escaped him.

You frowned, and that only made it worse. He wanted to bite your lip just to see if your mouth would still taste like fire when it was pressed against his. He wanted to grab your face and kiss you so hard it left bruises.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful when you’re pissed,” he murmured, voice low and hoarse, almost reverent.

You blinked at that—but didn’t back down. And the way your stare softened just a fraction, that flicker of confusion folding into resolve again... yeah. That did it. That almost ended him right then and there.

He stepped closer, slow, deliberate, like approaching a lit fuse. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch, to pull, to anchor.

“You gonna hit me?” he asked, tone dark and dangerous and barely hanging on.

You tilted your chin up. “Wouldn’t waste the energy.”

God. That. That right there. The grit in your voice. He could live off that kind of defiance. He wanted to.

Jason had never been good at softness. He didn’t know what to do with people who crumbled. But you—? You held his gaze like a storm, like a girl who could kill him with her silence, and suddenly, all he wanted to do was beg for a second chance to make you smile again.

Not because he deserved it. Because he’d die trying to.

DICK GRAYSON

the way you reach for him in your sleep

It starts small. Always does. You shift once, twice—barely there. Then your hand moves, unthinking. Across sheets warm with your shared heat, it searches.

You don’t know you're doing it. That’s what makes it criminal. You’re not asking to be loved in that moment. You’re assuming it. Trusting the world to place him where he belongs: next to you.

And Dick—poor, cursed Dick—is already awake.

He lies still, pretending. Letting you find him. Every nerve is alight, tuned to the sound of your breath, the whisper of cotton as your wrist brushes the inside of his arm. Then—finally—your hand finds his chest, right over the scar where a blade once tried to make him quiet forever.

Your fingers twitch. Then still. Then curl.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

He’s not thinking about villains or masks or the weight of his last name. He’s not worried about who’s watching, or whether he’s enough. He’s just a man now.

A man undone by the way you, unconscious and vulnerable, reach for him like he’s home. Like your body knows him, wants him, chooses him—without performance, without pride.

And it’s just so fucking sweet. The sweetness that life had never thought him deserving of—never bothered to offer, as if the universe had forgotten him in some quiet corner—was suddenly there, in you. And only then did he realize what he had been starved of.

There’s something maddening about your vulnerability—how you press against him in sleep, skin warm and scent-heavy, mouth parted just slightly. Innocent, yes. But not harmless.

Not to him.

He could write an entire religion based on the way your breath hitches when his hand covers yours. He could burn entire cities if someone tried to pull you away while you sleep.

Because this—this secret, sacred moment where you choose him without knowing— is the kind of thing he’s never let himself want.

But now that he’s had it, he knows.

He’ll want it forever.

BRUCE WAYNE

the way you tilt your chin when you're defiant

It is the tiniest gesture—a tilt of the chin, so slight it might pass for nothing at all. But to him? It is semaphore, a flare in the dusk, a gauntlet tossed with exquisite subtlety.

You do it when you disagree. Not with loud words or theatrics. No. You just raise your chin. Barely. As if your body is saying, “I’m not afraid of you.”“I’ll meet you there, if you push.”

And God help him, he wants to push.

You do this thing where your jaw tightens just slightly, where your eyes go sharp and patient at the same time—like you’ve already calculated the cost of standing your ground and decided to pay it anyway.

You look… royal. As though Gotham’s grime never dared graze your skin. Like tragedy tried and failed. Like you’d walk into fire if it meant protecting what’s yours.

And that infuriates him.

Because Bruce—Bruce—knows what defiance costs. He’s worn it like armor. Bled for it. Buried people because of it.

But when you do it?

It doesn’t look like self-destruction. It looks like purpose. Power. Something beautiful he was never allowed to have.

He wants to touch your face when you tilt your chin like that. Wants to grab your wrist and pull you into him—not to overpower, but to understand. To memorize the blueprint of that defiance. To feel it against his mouth.

You make silence feel like war. And he’s losing.

Because there is something deeply, dangerously erotic about a woman who doesn’t flinch when she should. Who doesn’t soften to make him comfortable. Who looks at the darkest thing in him—and doesn’t look away.

He’s not used to being watched like that. He’s not used to wanting to be watched like that.

And every time you lift that chin, he’s reminded of exactly how easy it would be to give up the act, the mask, the fiction of the untouchable man—

—all for one person who sees him and doesn't look away.