#the sheer emotions the PLOT makes me feel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zarameraki · 2 months

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˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 bj 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 4.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: ok look, i was ovulating and i had to write this for some reason. i even wrote a nanami one (but he's your step-uncle). my mind was in the gutter and i wanted to challenge myself to something super taboo. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

Here you were, standing on a worn-out welcome mat, staring at the door of your ex-stepfather’s house.

It’s surreal.

A month ago, when your mom dropped the bomb about their divorce, you felt like your world was crumbling. Part of you felt relieved, like you could finally breathe without suffocating under their constant tension. And the other part? Well, it felt like a piece of you was being ripped away.

Last week, when the papers were finalized, making it official that they were done, you locked yourself in your room. The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling of missing him. Missing Toji. It’s ridiculous, right? He’s not your step dad anymore. He’s just some guy now. Too old, too wrong, too different.

You should just turn around and leave, forget about all this.

But you couldn’t.

Not today.

Not when you’re clutching your hard-earned bachelor’s degree, wearing a stupid graduation gown that felt like a costume. He didn’t bother showing up for your biggest achievement, just like your mother. She was always occupied with her own life to care about you. You were just an accident, a spill on her pile of kitchen table bills.

Toji, though, he was different. He actually paid attention, listened to you, cared about what you had to say. Maybe you’re being stupid for wanting to talk to him, to pour out everything that’s been eating you up for months. But you needed to do this, for yourself, even if it meant facing the reality that he’s not part of your life anymore.

So, you’d driven straight to his residence building, skipping the after parties with your friends. You were twenty-two for fuck’s sake. If you wanted to spend the night celebrating with your step-dad, then that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Enough was enough.

Your trembling finger hovered over the doorbell, each second feeling like an eternity. The sharp pricks of anxiety danced on your palms, and the weight on your shoulders threatened to crush you. But you couldn’t turn back now.

The ache in your chest demanded resolution, an answer to the haunting question that had plagued you since your mother first brought him into your life: Do I want to fuck my step-dad?

Yes. Yes, you very much did.

The clicks of the lock rattled and the door knob twisted clockwise.

Toji stood in the doorway, his presence dominating the space as if he had devoured the entire door frame. His twelve abdomen muscles rippled, stark against his skin. Jet-black hair clung wetly to his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. With sweatpants slung low on his hips, a tantalizing trail of hair led downward, drawing attention to the area you often found yourself fantasizing about.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, realization dawning. “It was today, wasn’t it?”

“You’re such an ass,” you spat out, your body trembling with a mix of emotions—his forgetfulness, his proximity to you, the sheer presence of him. But at this moment, all your focus was on the pain of him abandoning you after promising he’d be there. “I was completely alone, Toji. Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to stand there by myself while everyone else had their families?”

“Sweetheart—”

“No. No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t—You made me a promise, Toji. You swore you’d be there for me.”

“I know,” he murmured, running his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, kid. Come here.” He grasped your wrist and drew you towards him, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your body, reminiscent of the times he used to challenge you by having you sit on his back during push-ups to prove you wrong about being too heavy for him. “Better?”

“No,” you grumbled, resting your cheek against his chest. He had the scent of spruce and cigarettes that you found strangely comforting. What you wouldn’t do to sleep on his chest for hours, days and weeks. “Toji, I . . . I want to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?” he asked, stepping back.

“Can we sit down first?”

He grinned. “Of course, baby.”

With a shy smile of your own, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he led you towards the plush couch at the center of the room. Memories of previous visits with your mother flashed briefly in your mind, but they were quickly replaced by the present moment.

The apartment’s decor was simple yet masculine, with red-brick walls lending a rustic charm. A mounted television, a large couch, and a hanging boxing bag added character to the space. The kitchen, though small, was designed in an L-shape, showcasing Toji’s dedication to fitness with his assortment of protein powders and supplements neatly arranged.

As you both settled onto the couch, Toji relaxed back, spreading out his legs and placing his arms on the backrest. His gaze lingered on you as you gracefully removed your graduation gown and placed your degree on his coffee table.

“Your mother allowed you to wear that?” His thumb traced the curve of his lower lip as his gaze roamed shamelessly over you.

The gown you had on was a sleek, satin creation with a daring thigh-high slit. Its fabric was delicate, featuring thin straps and a plunging cleavage that barely contained your breasts. It was no secret that you had chosen it with Toji in mind, especially since your mother had been “too busy” to accompany you on your shopping trip.

“She doesn’t control my wardrobe,” you replied, your voice laced with confidence as you settled beside him. One leg tucked beneath you, the other languidly extended, the slit in your dress showcasing the smoothness of your skin. Toji’s gaze followed the line of exposed flesh before meeting your eyes. “Besides, you shouldn’t be the one to talk.”

His smirk widened when you pointed out his lack of a shirt. “My house, my rules.”

You changed the subject. “Care to explain why you missed my graduation?”

“Work,” he replied shortly.

“Is that so?”

“I got a last-minute call for a match. The prize money was going to cover the next three months’ rent.” Toji was a professional MMA fighter. You had once attended one of his matches for ten minutes before almost passing out from witnessing how brutally he defeated his opponent. His persona in the ring was a juxtaposition to the sarcastic yet caring man he was at home with you.

“Did you win?” you asked, absently twirling the bracelet he had given you for your twenty-first birthday.

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I won.”

“Good.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find his eyes fixed on you. “Do you miss home?”

“I am home.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took a deep breath, gazing at the blank television screen. Tilting his head back towards you, he wore a lopsided grin. “I miss you. Does that count?”

Your insides turned to jelly at his words, but you refused to let yourself falter, refusing to become the shy, sweet girl you once were, despite the depraved and forbidden reel playing in your mind.

You missed watching television with your head on his lap. You missed cooking together. You missed doing the dishes afterward. You missed joining him on walks and runs just to spend a little extra time together. You missed dragging him to malls with you and trying on clothes, posing as sexily as you could, but obviously, he didn’t understand the signals. He never did. Even if you’d spend more time with him than your own mother.

Silence ensued around you, only the subtle sounds of your choppy breaths and his composed ones were heard.

“Why are you here, kid?” Toji’s gruff voice cut through the air.

“To see you.”

“Why are you here?”

You held your breath tightly in your chest. “I wanted to talk.”

“About?” He was quick with the question, as if he knew what you were about to say, but wanted to hear it from your lips. Lips that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. “Talk to me.”

“I—” You felt a knot form in your throat. “I wanted to check up—”

“Bullshit.”

Yeah, bullshit.

What were you scared of? This was the man who cut up fruits for you when you were mentally deprived from crunching for your exams. This was the man who put a blanket on you if you fell asleep reading, even giving a kiss to your crown. This was the man who treated you like you were his own daughter, when in reality, you never were. And he never outwardly called you his daughter, either. You didn’t know why you never saw him as a father figure, but rather, you called him a friend. A really good friend. A friend you’d fallen stupidly in love with over the course of six months.

Toji snapped his fingers in front of your face. You blinked out of the whirlpool of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“To you.”

He lifted a brow. “To me?”

Now or never, Y/N. Now or fucking never.

You knelt down and moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. His eyes widened momentarily at your boldness. “Toji, I like you. Hell, I love you. I love every version of the man you’ve been in my life. I know—I know you love me, too. Probably not in the way I want you to, but a girl can hope.” Your words were directed at the dog tag hanging from his neck as you gently placed your hands on his chest. “I did come here to scold you for not attending my graduation, but I also wanted to . . . I wanted to be with you. In more ways than one.”

“You don’t know what you’re talk—”

“I do,” you stated firmly. Your lashes lifted and found his narrowed scrutiny. Unconsciously, his hands rested on your waist, molding to your curves. “I’ve known for a while now. It didn’t click in until you moved out. I swear Toji, it was like I couldn’t breathe without you.”

“Baby . . . ”

“I want you,” you confessed in a hushed tone, your fingers tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, then up to the sturdy column of his neck where his pulsing veins hinted at his emotions. “I know I seem desperate, but I don’t care. You’re not hers anymore. You were never hers.”

“Y/N—”

“Please, Toji. Please, just touch me.” You tilted your head to plant a tender kiss on the sharp angle of his jawline. His faint stubble grazed against your lips as you continued to pepper kisses, stopping just short of his mouth. “Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, they say.”

Toji tightly shut his eyes and took slow breaths through his nose, his inner turmoil evident in the way his head moved back and forth. Your lips traced gentle paths around his face, savoring the closeness and the rush of emotions it brought. Even if he rejected you, you would find solace in knowing you had expressed your love for the man who was once your stepfather. This night might mark the end of your time together, but it also freed you from the burden of hiding your feelings..

“Baby,” Toji whispered, gently caressing your cheek as he drew you closer. “You sure you want this?”

“Yes.”

“You know how risky this is, kid. We can’t just ignore the consequences.”

“I know, Toji.” You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his. “But I can’t ignore how I feel about you either. I want this. I want you. I want all of you. You can do whatever you want to me. I promise I can take it.”

Toji licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. Your mom—”

“She won’t know. I’m planning on moving out soon.” You dragged your hand up and down his soft, bare chest. “I should’ve moved out with you.”

Toji took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm. “I don’t think I have any condoms on me.”

“I’m on the pill.”

His eyes narrowed on you. “You’ve been fucking around? Does your mom know?”

“Hey, I had to have a little fun. Gain a little experience for this inevitable night.” Your infectious smile rubbed off on him and he enveloped you in his arms.

“I fuck hard.”

“Good.”

“Last chance.”

“Nope.”

Toji rose on his feet, supporting your bottom with his hands as he took you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, the soft mattress absorbing the weight with a slight bounce. “Fucking knew you had a little crush on me.” He clambered onto your body and held your jaw with his hand. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you touch yourself thinking of me?”

“Every single night. Whether it’s in the shower or my bedroom,” you replied, feigning a pout and raising your hand. “I’m starting to think I’ve developed carpal tunnel from all of it.”

Toji laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. But as his laughter faded into a knowing smirk, his next words sent a jolt through you, leaving your legs weak and your heart racing. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“Really?”

He answered by colliding his lips against yours. It was a brutal kiss. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a heated embrace. His tongue shoved deep into your mouth, exploring the source of your daring words.

Pulling away momentarily, he squeezed your cheeks and sucked on your tongue like it was a delicious treat. “Gonna spit in your mouth.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Toji’s cheeks sucked in as he gathered his spit and spat it right onto your tongue. “Swallow.”

You did, moaning as his warm saliva traveled down your throat. “You taste minty.”

“I was just about to crash before your demanding ass showed up,” he teased.

“Well, you should thank me then.” You planted a quick kiss on his nose.

Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip and trailing his moist lips down to your neck. “You smell so good, baby.”

“I’m wearing the perfume you bought me.”

“You better fucking be. Do you know how much I get off on spoiling you?” His teeth bit your delicate flesh and pulled, making you whimper from the stinging pain. He sucked and bit on different areas of your neck, marking you with his love bites. He then helped you out of the dress and pressed you back on the mattress. “Knew you weren’t wearing a bra.”

“No,” you said sarcastically.

“Yeah,” he said, missing the teasing in your voice, “your nipples were in my face when we were talking.” He rounded his tongue around your areola. Gathering your breasts in both hands, Toji switched between suckling at your nipples, biting the sensitive bud that sent jerks in your body, and licking the burning pain. “I saw you undressing once. You know that?”

You lifted a brow. “Uh, when?” And why didn't he do anything about it?

“You left your bedroom a bit open. I came to call you for dinner and instead feasted on the sight of your perky ass and these sexy tits.” He left your nipples numb and discolored from his teeth’s abuse. “You think you’re the only one who got off in that house? No, baby. Not at all. I was in the room right next to you, jerking off to your voice, or your smell.” This time, he kissed you gently and then each of your shoulders. “I had it worse. I had it so much worse.”

“Toji . . . ”

“But you’re here now, and so am I. I’m not fucking leaving. You got that? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

“Yours,” you whispered. “God, Toji, I’m yours. I’m yours.”

Toji removed his sweatpants and boxers, giving you a glorious display of his long, thick cock, corded with veins, sprouted up and proud. You had him like that, and so you gave yourself a mental pat on the back. “Like what you see?”

“Yes,” you said, chuckling in disbelief at the anatomy of him. A surge of confidence washed over you. You slipped off your panties and spread out your legs, shaking your hair back from your face. “Like what you see?”

Toji gleamed at the wetness pooled between your legs, soaking his sheets underneath, sticky and hot. Something feral rattled inside him. He gripped your knees and pried them farther apart, sinking in between.

“Oh, fuck, fuck! Toji—ah!” Your back arched in ecstasy, fingers gripping his scalp as he ruthlessly ate you out. His large palm held your hips in place, nibbling and sucking at your quivering, swollen clit. “Toji, yes, yes, fuck. Right there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You grinded against him with full power, pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. He drank your leaking juices, drove his skilled tongue into your tight entrance, and discovered the sweet, cry-worthy spots inside you.

Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging them deep inside you with a rough and unrelenting pace that sent shivers down your spine. His deep growls were the icing on top.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the bed creaked beneath you. He was exorcising your damn soul out of your body with his holy tongue and his blessed fingers.

“Ah!” You came down like a fucking waterfall and Toji stood with an open mouth, drinking in your essence, lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, cleaning you as best as he could.

You gasped for air, clutching your chest as you coughed or laughed or wheezed—hard to tell which. You felt weightless, incredibly sore, teetering on the edge of passing out.

“Toji . . . am I dead?”

His laughter echoed nearby, then drew nearer until his face came into focus through your haze. “Your pussy tastes just as delicious as your mouth, baby.”

He kissed you and gave you a hint of your release. Toji was a moaner—a loud one—as he sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he spit onto your tongue again, and ran his own coarse one over your palette.

You closed your mouth and pushed him back by his shoulders. “Let me touch you.”

“Yeah? You want to suck me off, too?”

“Yes, fuck. Please, Toji. Please let me suck your cock.” Your begging made him grunt as he got up on his knees. He moved closer, placing them firmly beside your hips. You sat up against the headboard, gripping his warm, aroused cock, while he entwined your hair around his hand, gaining control over your movements.

You looked up at his smirk and kissed his moist tip, savoring the salty taste. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the idea of taking him deeper into your mouth. It would definitely challenge your gag reflex, but if this was going to be a regular thing, you needed to practice.

“Part your lips for me, kid. Nice and wide. That’s it.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You winked at Toji’s alarmed expression. Oh, how you loved catching him off-guard by acting out of character. “You got a daddy kink, Toji?” You brushed your lips from the base to the head, swirling your tongue around the rim. “Since you love calling me kid, maybe I should start calling you daddy. Isn’t that what you were?”

“You got a dirty mouth on you, kid.”

“Learned it from my daddy.”

Toji hissed through his teeth as you nibbled his tip. “Not dirty enough.” He gripped his length and forced it past your lips. Your nails plunged into his hips, gagging and shaking as he sunk past your uvula. “About time I fucked your smartass mouth with my cock, baby. Be a good girl and don’t tap out until I’ve come down your throat.”

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve before meeting his gaze again with a playful glint. You weren’t entirely sure where this was going, but you were determined not to back down now. So, with a mischievous wink, you silently accepted the challenge.

Toji thrusted his hips back and forth, shoving his girth in and out without giving you space to breathe.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, you’re so good at sucking your daddy’s cock,” he groaned, his hands gently gripping your hair or caressing your cheek in a way that contrasted sharply with his dominant actions.

“My pretty whore.”

Thrust.

“My gorgeous girl.”

Thrust.

“You belong to me, baby.”

Thrust, thrust, thrust.

He was a complete monster with you.

Your face pressed against his pelvis, the brush of his happy trail tickling your nose. You knew from experience that most men came quicker if you fondled their balls. You squeezed his heavy, swollen sacs, making him hiss and violate your throat.

Toji couldn’t hold back. His release came with a roar, numbing your scalp from how tightly he was pulling on it. The thin ropes of his release and your saliva formed as he pulled out. You swallowed whatever was left around your mouth. To please him further, as if assaulting your throat wasn’t enough, you lapped at his tip like a devoted kitten. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

That’s all you wanted to hear.

“Turn around,” he commanded, and without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. “What a sight.” His hand glided over your left ass cheek tenderly before delivering a firm smack that made you jolt forward. Toji mirrored the action on your right cheek, preparing you while coating the tip of his cock with slickness from your own arousal. “Gonna put it in now, sweetheart.”

“Finally, Jesus.”

Toji spanked your ass which only elicited a giggle out of you. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing soon, baby.”

He pushed into you in one-quick go.

You cried out and grabbed the top of the headboard with your sweaty palms. He pulled out just to the hilt then drove back in. The air smelled like your sweat and perfume and sex. Every nerve in your body was alive, your heart pounding fiercely as if trying to escape your chest. Your face flushed with heat, your blood singing with desire.

You moaned and cried and screamed his name, driving him to complete madness with the word “Daddy.” You begged him to go faster, push harder, to have you sore for weeks so you didn’t have to get out of his bed, out of his arms, out of his home. You wanted this to be your home.

Toji spanked your ass repeatedly, skin slapping against skin, palming the back of your head so that your face was crushed on his pillow. It smelled like firewood. Smelled like him. You wanted to steal it, take it home, sleep with it, ride it while whispering his name.

You both came together.

Toji’s hot seed filled your stretched hole. He withdrew slowly, a teasing sensation that left you craving more. With deft fingers, he ensured not a drop was wasted.

You collapsed onto your stomach, catching your breath before summoning the strength to turn and face him.

He exhaled heavily, laying beside you “Fuck, that was . . .”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Best yeah.” You draped yourself onto his chest and kissed his chin. He massaged his fingers through your throbbing scalp, the other hand caressing your numb, bruised ass.

Toji twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Does this make-up for missing your graduation?”

You flicked his forehead. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.”

“Maybe I should miss more of your events if this is the reward I’m gonna get.”

You scowled. “I dare you to repeat that again.”

Toji ironed out your scowl with his thumb. You kissed the pad of his rough finger, twice. “My cards are on the table for you, sweetheart.”

Your lips met his, whispering, “I folded a while ago, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he breathed out. With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Round two, kid.”

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theetherealbloom · 1 month

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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

Chapter One: I Know He's Crazy, But He's The One I Want

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking around, FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Kissing, Barely any plot, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content,

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Happy “The Tortured Poets Department” release! I couldn’t help but shriek with joy when I heard But Daddy I Love Him. Literally, dad best friend Joel Miller coded. I would like to thank @wheresarizona for dealing with my spam in her messages from me as I was yapping about the new album and gushing over her writing; she’s literally one of the best writers ever. That is a fact and I will die on that hill.

This fic is heavily inspired by all of the dad's best friend books and dbf!Joel Miller fics I have read over the years. It is with great honor (and a lot of fucking fear) to present to you this Frankenstein of all of my fav tropes!

Heads up, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

As you walk past the neighboring house, you observe the real estate agent meticulously placing the 'SOLD' banner onto the weathered for sale sign. A strange sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that someone has finally purchased the property.

Entering your home, you release a sigh of relief as the familiar comfort washes over you. With a casual toss, your keys and bag find their place on the hallway table. The urge to call out to your dad bubbles up, but it freezes in your throat when you're met with an unexpected sound drifting from his home office.

Your heart quickens as you peek inside, only to find your dad's best friend, Joel Miller, lounging on the plush brown lazy boy. His deep, resonant voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine even before you lay eyes on him.

Clutching the doorframe for support, you fight to steady your nerves. With trembling fingers, you manage to force a smile onto your lips, though it feels strained. "Hey, Dad. Hey… Joel," you manage to squeak, the mere sound of his name stirring a flurry of emotions within you.

The room feels stiflingly quiet as you wait for a response, the weight of Joel's gaze almost tangible. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his intense eyes meet yours. His attention feels almost palpable, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a rush of warmth through your body. With a low, almost imperceptible grunt of acknowledgment, Joel's gaze finally breaks away, leaving you breathless in his wake.

You try to avert your gaze out of sheer habit, but it's futile, like trying not to be drawn to the most captivating, exquisite sight in existence.

God, it's as if he's been carved from pure perfection, each time you lay eyes on him.

That same intense, brooding look he wore the day of your college graduation, late last year, still grips you. And it seems Joel's gaze has the same effect on your dad, eliciting a familiar reaction. With a quick double-take, your dad shoots a glance at his best friend before swiveling in his seat.

"Hey there, sweetheart, just catching up with Joel. He dropped by for a surprise visit," your dad starts, but he halts mid-sentence, noticing your undeniable reaction. Concern etches his features as he addresses you. "Honey?" he prompts, his voice laced with worry, as you struggle to find your voice for the umpteenth time in mere seconds.

Joel's gaze narrows, his jaw clenching as his intense scrutiny roams over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

As you cling to the doorframe, you can't help but notice the subtle movement of Joel's prominent Adam's apple, betraying his own unease.

Breaking the tension, your dad's nervous chuckle pierces the silence, attributing my apparent moodiness to your usual banter. He turns back to Joel, commenting on his friend's expression.

"What's going on with you two?" he quips, his tone shifting from light-hearted to serious in an instant. "Feels like there's some dirty secret between you," your dad adds, the jest evaporating from his voice. Yet, Joel remains unfazed by your dad's observation, his gaze still locked onto you as a faint smile curves his lips.

His lips curl into a smirk, accentuating the charming dimple that appears in his slightly scruffy beard whenever he smiles—a sight that never fails to tug at your heartstrings.

But as your dad's suspicion lingers in the air, Joel's demeanor shifts, yet you still struggle to connect the dots regarding why he's been giving you that look since graduation.

That day was meant to mark a pivotal moment in your life, celebrating the culmination of years of hard work in college. Yet, Joel's presence, the way he gazed at you, and the unexpected intensity of his hug during the congratulations... It's forever etched in your memory for reasons beyond the academic achievement.

And at the center of it all is one word: Joel.

He's a towering figure, a mix of solid muscle and the comforting softness of his belly. In the moment, you brushed off his tight embrace after receiving your diploma as merely the enthusiasm of the occasion.

But as you felt his whole body pressing right into yours during that hug, you knew it wasn’t your regular type of embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear. And though you didn’t catch his next words as clearly, you're certain he said something else that day. “…You feel so fuckin’ good….”

At least, that's what you've been convincing yourself he said. You recall gazing up into those big brown eyes, the same intense look he's giving you now, and wondering the same thing. How could an older, dangerously attractive man like Joel be even remotely interested in someone like you? Apart from being your dad’s best friend, he's more than twice your age and lives on the other side of the country with his daughter, Sarah.

You can almost picture the scandalized gasps of the single older women and ex-wives in your town, clutching their pearls and whispering, "What a mess," if you and Joel ever got together; if he was even remotely interested in you like that.

But you've replayed that scene in your mind every day since, and no matter how hard you try, there's just no denying your secret crush on him.

It all started long before college, your feelings for Joel simmering beneath the surface. Back then, you couldn't quite grasp what it was you felt for him. All you knew was that it felt right, and that feeling remains unchanged. Despite the nerves and shyness that being around him brings, there's another undeniable effect he has on you.

Like the overwhelming desire to sink back and beg him to indulge in things that his best friend's daughter probably shouldn't be fantasizing about. It's been a while since you last saw Joel, but he still exudes the same charm and looks even more handsome and fit than before, thanks to his job in construction as a contractor.

And when you receive that same look from him today, when your dad even jokes about his suspicions, you know Joel remembers that day too. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the moment he pulled you close, a memory etched as your most cherished moment so far.

"Well, I reckon’ my presence here might come as a bit of a surprise," Joel rasps, his gaze locked with yours as he emits a low chuckle for your dad's benefit. Unnoticed by your dad, Joel shoots you a sly wink, and you watch as your dad's tension melts away. He's relieved to know he wasn't imagining things, and undoubtedly thrilled once he hears Joel's news. "I'm moving here, right next door with Sarah. Tommy should be dropping her off here tomorrow," he announces with enthusiasm, but you feel the pit of your stomach drop.

Joel... here? For good? Oh, fuck.

Your dad erupts into loud whoops, raising both hands in the air. "It's about time, buddy! I knew you were keeping something from me," he adds, turning to you once again. "You were aware of this?" he asks, furrowing his brow with a hint of confusion.

"You knew Joel and Sarah were coming to town, didn’t you?" Dad repeats, finally grinning like a child at the news. Smiling like a dad who's pushed aside any notion of his best friend showing interest in his only daughter. And you catch a sly grin on Joel’s face as he comes to your rescue. "Oh, I mentioned I might pay a visit. Buttercup here wasn't aware of the specifics or that Sarah and I would be relocatin’ back here," he explains to your dad.

But when Joel smoothly fibs to your dad, insinuating that you were aware of his impending move back to town, even though it caught you completely off guard, he seals an instant and secret pact between the two of you with a single glance. His deep brown eyes wink at you, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You realize you're in deeper trouble than you initially thought. And strangely enough, it's the kind of trouble you welcome with open arms.

In that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between you and Joel. With just a wink from him, your chest flutters with excitement, and a wave of anticipation rushes through you, leaving you feeling unexpectedly aroused at the prospect of having him nearby all the time. You're fully committed now, Joel's lie to his best friend serving as a shield for both of you, deflecting attention away from the undeniable tension between you.

"Sarah called last week," you fabricate, deciding to play along with Joel's deception. "As we were chatting, Joel mentioned something about visiting. It must've slipped my mind to mention it to you," you explain to your dad, hoping he'll buy into the white lie. Joel's low growl of contentment as he leans back, causing the leather chair to creak, reassures you that he approves of your little ruse.

Your dad's elation at the news of his best friend's return to their quaint little town is palpable, enough to overshadow any scolding he might have had for your omission about Sarah and Joel's supposed call.

But the truth remains: Sarah never called, and Joel's mysterious behavior is raising more questions than answers.

A surprise visit is one thing, but the intensity of Joel's gaze? The way he makes you feel? It's enough to give your long-standing crush on him a serious run for its money.

"But damn, Sarah will be here tomorrow?" your dad groans before chuckling. "A bit more notice would've been nice, but hell, it'll be good to see you, buddy."

"Listen, I've got something I can't postpone tomorrow. Maybe my daughter here could accompany you to pick up Sarah from the airport?" your dad suggests, turning his attention towards you.

Somewhere behind you, a strange sound escapes—it's you, emitting a sort of mewling noise that you know Joel catches, his smile widening in response.

"Sounds perfect," he agrees before you even have a chance to process it.

"Sweetie?" your dad asks, his tone sheepish now that he's volunteered you without asking if you were available.

You can only watch as the room seems to spin around you, nodding in agreement. "Yeah... sure, I don't have any tutoring sessions tomorrow."

"Perfect!" your dad sighs with relief, promising Joel they'll catch up later. "But I really need to get back to the shop. Are you alright here with her to help you settle into your new house with whatever you brought? The rest of your stuff hasn't arrived yet."

"Yeah, we'll be just fine," Joel assures in his trademark baritone, locking eyes with you.

You were so fixated on Joel's presence that you hadn't noticed the bags by the side of the home office.

"Sweetie? You sure you're okay to help? You look kind of..." your dad starts, but you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before replying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I can help."

"Alright then," your dad grabs his car keys, ready to leave the home office. He gives you both a final glance, kissing the top of your head. "I'll be back for dinner. Have fun, you two!"

You and Joel remain frozen in place, him on one side of the room and you by the doorway, both listening to your dad's fading footsteps and the rumble of his truck as he drives away.

You’re so fucked.

It's been six long months since you last saw each other, and for Joel, it's felt like an eternity. The day of your graduation marked the first time he laid eyes on you in over three years, and it was as if he was seeing you for the very first time.

You've grown into a remarkable adult, and Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming need to be there, not only for his buddy, your dad, but also for his sweet Buttercup. Witnessing his little girl all grown up and ready to embark on her journey into the world with her diploma was a moment he'll never forget. He'd never seen his best friend prouder, yet his gaze lingered on you for entirely different reasons.

Reasons and desires that had never crossed Joel's mind until that day. He couldn't resist pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his.

What was he thinking? Surely, everyone could see the effect you had on him.

But Joel wasn't thinking, he was acting on instinct. He was claiming what he knew belonged to him. Telling you he was proud of you was one thing, but he's still unsure if you heard what else he said about how good you felt in his arms.

Yet, he doesn't regret it. Because it was true then, and it remains true now. He just wishes he knew if you felt the same way. If you felt it in the same way he did. But how could you possibly feel the same way about him as he has about you these past six months?

Joel couldn't deny that there were many reasons why the relationship between you was complicated. For one, there was the age difference - you were more than half his age. Apart from having the kind of body he could grip, suck and fuck for a lifetime, additionally, you were his best friend's daughter, a bond that ran deep and could not be ignored.

That day, Joel took a risk, blurring the lines and potentially jeopardizing not just his friendship with your dad, but also the bond he shared with you by being so affectionate.

Surprisingly, you didn't seem to mind his gestures, and Joel was convinced that your dad hadn't even noticed. Despite the undeniable attraction he felt towards you, a feeling that lingered and intensified with every thought of you, Joel couldn't shake the worry that his actions might have caused a rift.

As days turned into weeks without any word from your dad, Joel's mind raced with doubts. He couldn't help but question if you had confided in your father about his behavior. Perhaps your dad had sensed Joel's infatuation with you, leading to a silence that spoke volumes.

Intrusive thoughts plagued Joel, wondering if you had been uncomfortable with his displays of affection. The fear that you might have someone else in your life to hold onto gnawed at him, leaving him restless and anxious about the potential consequences of his actions.

Joel and your dad used to share conversations daily, a bond that time and life's demands have gradually weakened, particularly with Sarah still navigating middle school. They both acknowledge the need to reconnect more often, yet something always seems to intervene.

But Joel's decision to visit your father in person wasn't impulsive; it was a deliberate choice, driven by a desire to stay for good this time.

No more fleeting visits. This time, it's permanent.

And it's all because of you.

Since your graduation day, you've occupied Joel's thoughts relentlessly. It's more than just an obsession; you're the sole focus of his mind, consuming his every waking moment.

You are the only thing he can fucking think about.

Joel would never dare voice his thoughts to your dad, not just because of his feelings, but also because your father had a history of using his fists to settle matters. If he even suspected a fraction of what Joel's mind was consumed with regarding his daughter... Well, Joel would never be allowed in your home, with your dad likely ensuring Joel carried a permanent reminder of his displeasure.

Despite his reluctance to keep secrets from his lifelong friend, Joel's motivation to act stems from a burning need that is beyond his mere desire to reunite with you.

He doesn't just want to see you again; he craves it with a fervor that borders on desperation. And the only way to satisfy this yearning is to summon the courage to ask for more.

Reconnecting with your dad was pleasant, but the sight of you, standing in the doorway of the home office, unleashes a torrent of emotions within Joel. It's as though he's been trapped in a deep freeze for the past six months, and your mere presence ignites a firestorm within him.

Every curve of your silhouette, every strand of hair framing your face, fuels Joel's desire until it simmers beyond control, all for you.

As you watched him, his gaze never wavered from your presence, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He was grateful for the chair that supported him, as he felt the insanely hard erection you gave him.

Your natural grace and beauty had left him breathless, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

All from just being yourself. All without you even trying to do anything.

You really are just fucking perfect in every way.

You're now an adult, poised to embrace all the challenges and pleasures that adulthood entails. The mere thought sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you once more, evoking memories of his touch on that unforgettable graduation day.

The intoxicating blend of his woodsy cologne, the creak of his well-worn leather jacket, and the soft fabric of his grey tee shirt against your skin linger in your mind, igniting a longing for more.

The sensation that floods Joel as he lays eyes on you in person after so long defies description.

It takes all his willpower to resist the impulse to stride over and scoop you up, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to claim you as his own and to drag you into your bedroom. But he restrains himself, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve, waiting for any sign from you that you're ready for his embrace.

When your gaze meets his, he witnesses the hitch in your breath, and he can't help but murmur, "Come here, sweetheart." Your response is like a magnetic pull, drawing you into his strong, steadfast arms. As you melt into his embrace, he's struck by the sense of finally being home. You are his home now.

Joel inhales the sweet fragrance of your hair, longing to whisper countless sentiments into your perfect little ear nestled so close to his mouth.

But all he can muster, without risking scaring you away, is a simple declaration in his southern drawl, "I missed you, my little buttercup."

You bury your face into his checkered flannel, your words muffled against his shirt as you confess, "I missed you too, Joel."

Your body instinctively gravitates towards his, fueled by both necessity and reflex. The memory of his last embrace has haunted your thoughts for the past six months, and as his massive, comforting arms envelop you once more, it feels as though you're picking up right where you left off. He feels even better than you remembered, and the mingling scents of his cologne and freshly laundered clothes stir a desire within you to cling to him forever.

Reluctantly, he releases you from the hug, clearing his throat as you take a small step back, managing to squeak out, “Do you want a cup of coffee before you get settled in your new house? You look kinda tired.”

“Sure,” Joel nods, and you sense him hovering behind you as you descend the staircase and enter the kitchen. You can feel his eyes tracing your movements from behind.

You busy yourself preparing the coffee as Joel sets his things down, knowing it'll provide the perfect opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, his gaze remains fixed on your curves as you move around the kitchen. In that moment, he realizes there's no way he can stay in this house for more than an hour, without confessing his feelings to you.

“You got a boyfriend?”

The sudden question nearly causes you to spill hot water all over your hand, and you freeze, feeling a slight tremble coursing through you.

“Well?” Joel's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, as if you're caught in the midst of the most exhilarating earthquake imaginable. Your mouth hangs open, unsure of how to respond.

“Boyfriend or not?” he repeats, his tone commanding. “Not,” you answer instantly, not minding the question one bit, especially when you see its effect on Joel.

“Good. Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone.

Turning back to the kitchen counter, the clinking of ceramic cups fills the room, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as the heat spreads throughout your body and to the tips of your ears.

“Cream and sugar?” you ask, turning your head just long enough to inquire.

The sight of your body shifting under your clothes already ignites fantasies in Joel's mind, imagining all the ways he could pleasure you, even right there on your dad's kitchen floor if you desired.

“Joel?” you prompt, breaking him out of his daydream.

“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” he echoes, noticing your continued blush and slight trembling as you prepare the cups. As you approach him with the coffee, the sudden sound of your dad's voice startles you, causing you to drop one cup, which shatters on the floor.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he rushes to the sink to run cold water over the affected area.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," you reply, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I thought you were gone," you add, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I just forgot something. I came back to get it," your father explains, his eyes darting nervously between you and Joel.

Your father's gaze is fixed on Joel, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Joel's obvious concern for you. Anyone could see the way Joel feels about you, and your father's disapproval is palpable.

But you're not a child anymore, and you're tired of your father's disapproval. "Dad, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that?" you ask, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come. He sighs and shakes his head, gathering the pieces of the broken cup and tossing them in the trash on his way out. The sound of his car speeding away speaks volumes.

"Maybe I should go," Joel suggests, but you wave off his concern.

"Don't worry about my dad. He's been weird ever since I graduated from college," you say, dismissing his concerns.

But Joel knows that your father's suspicions go back further than just this morning. He moves to help you clean up the mess on the floor, ignoring the broken glass and coffee spill. Gently, he takes your hand in his, wincing at the stinging and burn.

"Let's get this under some cold water," he says, leading you to the sink. You lean back against him as he guides your hand under the icy flow, your body yielding to his touch.

"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. You nod, leaning into him as the cold water soothes your burn.

Joel's heart races as he holds you, feeling your warmth against him. He knows that your father doesn't approve of him, but he can't help how he feels. He's fallen for you, hard, and he's not going to let your father's disapproval get in the way.

"It feels better now," you whisper, your breath sending shivers down Joel's spine. He moves closer to you, feeling the pressure of your back against his aching cock.

"I can't help but notice how your body is responding to mine," Joel says, his voice low and husky.

"Should we start over?" he asks, leaning down so his mouth is close to your ear.

"You mean with the coffee?" you ask, playing coy. But your body is telling a different story.

"I mean starting over without your dad around," Joel clarifies, moving his hand to stroke the back of your neck.

You turn to face him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. "Just stay," you say, biting your lip.

Joel nods, his hands resting on your hips. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," he promises. "I'll be right next door, whenever you need me."

You stand there, close enough to kiss, but Joel holds back. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"I meant what I said that day you graduated," Joel whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You feel so fucking good."

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel his arousal pressing against your back, and he grips your hips, pulling you closer.

You plead with Joel to stay, not just because of how the morning has unfolded but because deep down, you need him by your side.

The words you long to say to Joel linger on the tip of your tongue, but the rush of emotions leaves you speechless. Your heart races as you grapple with the intensity of your feelings, unsure of how to express them.

As you run your hand under the cold water, trying to steady your nerves, you suggest preparing the spare room as a distraction. Anything to divert your thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you.

The tension between you and Joel crackles in the air, the unspoken desire palpable. His longing mirrors your own, creating a charged atmosphere that leaves you both on edge.

"Is your hand goin' to be okay?" Joel's voice is laced with concern as he looks at you, and you nod in response.

"It's just a minor burn from the coffee," you murmur, trying to focus on the task.

"Shall I make us more coffee?" Joel offers, already cleaning up the mess on the floor. But your attention is drawn to the undeniable presence pressing against your back, sending a rush of sensations through you.

Your heart races as you realize the extent of Joel's desire, his arousal evident in every inch of his being.

"I'm not tired," Joel says, his voice low and intimate as he picks up the broken pieces of the mug.

"And I meant what I said earlier," he adds, his tone dropping to a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it hard to focus on anything else. You should feel embarrassed, and remind him of boundaries, but the magnetic pull between you is undeniable.

"What did you mean?" you ask, a hint of defiance in your voice, craving his words like a drug.

His lips curl into a knowing smile as he repeats his earlier statement, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

"You feel so good," Joel says, his words sending a surge of heat through you, your cheeks flushing with desire.

"Is that why you came back?" you inquire, emboldened by the charged atmosphere between you.

"What do you think?" Joel replies, closing the distance between you, the space crackling with unspoken promises and desires.

You feel trapped, torn between your desires and the weight of your past.

Your hands tremble as you press them against Joel's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You slide your fingers down, curling around a button on his flannel shirt.

"My dad, for Sarah," you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your touch.

"I didn't come back to town just to see your dad," he says, his voice low and steady. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable either."

He pauses, taking another deep breath before he continues. "What I mean is, what I'm tryin’ to ask you, is could you have feelings for an older man? A man like me, maybe?"

His eyes bore into yours, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. You know what he's asking, and your heart races at the thought of giving in to your desires.

"I want to hear it from your lips," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "I like you a lot, Joel," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But?" he prompts, giving you an out if you need it.

You look up at Joel, your eyes pleading with him to make the decision for you. But there's no hesitation in his gaze. He leans in, pressing his warm lips against your hand, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.

"Does it feel like this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the heat that's building inside you.

"Do you really want me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You moan, unable to contain your desire any longer.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I want you."

Joel growls, a low, primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. He presses your hand against his stiff erection, and you can feel the heat and hardness of him through his jeans.

You trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, forgetting all about the burn on your hand, the hot coffee, and even your dad and his house. All that matters is the feel of Joel's body against yours, the heat and hardness of him that you've longed for since graduation day.

"Then come here," he growls, leaning down further and taking your face in his palm. You shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over yours means neither of you will ever have to ask that question again.

Joel's lips are soft and tender, but his kiss is urgent and demanding. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a hunger you've never felt before.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's been waiting for this moment for years. You respond in kind, your hands tugging at his flannel shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

The heat between you builds, until you're both panting and gasping for breath. Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you dizzy with desire.

Joel can't help himself as he lifts you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around him as he devours your mouth with his own. His hands roam your body, feeling the curves and contours of your figure as if for the first time.

You respond eagerly, your hands tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss. Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself growing wet with desire.

Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you gasp with pleasure. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you feel his hardness against your thigh.

He makes you purr and moan, fulfilling every fantasy you've ever had. Your hands move down to his throbbing cock, gripping and squeezing him through his denim, but you both know this is just the beginning.

Joel has already crossed the line he set for himself, unable to resist the pull between you. He wants more than just a physical connection; he wants all of you, your heart, your soul, your everything.

He envisions a future with you, a life where you're by his side, where you're free to be yourself, to indulge in every desire and dream. He wants to give you a home, a place where you can be truly happy, where the two of you can explore each other endlessly.

As you catch your breath, Joel eases his hold on you, sensing the need for a moment of clarity. Your smile and the flush in your cheeks speak volumes, reassuring him that you're on the same page.

"Holy shit," you exclaim, breathless and exhilarated. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath your touch.

Joel exhales slowly, realizing he may have moved too quickly for you. "Too much, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle, relieved when you giggle and nod in agreement.

But he sees the worry in your eyes, the need for understanding and space. You grip his flannel, pulling him close for a quick kiss, your words a mix of desire and uncertainty.

"I want this... I want you, Joel. I do," you confess, your voice filled with longing and hesitation.

"Just... not right now, not like this," you trail off, and Joel finishes your sentence, understanding the need for time and space to process everything.

He lifts you off the counter, noting how light you feel in his arms. He watches you pace the kitchen, a mix of emotions playing across your face. He settles on a stool, giving you the space you need to sort through your thoughts.

"I didn't think you were leading me on, and I didn't mean to be so forward," Joel says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time, process everythin’ darlin’.”

Joel's phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he knows it's your father. He takes a deep breath and answers the call, trying to sound casual. You've stopped pacing but still look dazed, as if you're trying to process what just happened between us.

"Hey, man," Joel greets, hearing your father's voice from his car, still on his way to the office.

"Joel, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I guess I'm the one who needs a nap, but I can't afford the time right now," he says, sounding sincere.

Your father has always been honest and upfront, and Joel feels a mix of pride and guilt as he listens to his apology. He knows that your dad will be upset once he finds out about the two of you, but until then, Joel thinks it's best to keep your secret a little longer.

"You don't have to apologize, buddy," Joel says, trying to reassure him. "When do you finish work today?" he asks, already thinking about the time they have left alone together.

More time to take things slow? Joel isn't sure. He wants to savor every moment with you, but he also can't wait to explore every inch of your body.

As your father continues to talk, Joel watches you, his mind filled with thoughts of the two of you together. He knows that things will get complicated soon, but for now, he's happy to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and energy.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Joel says, ending the call and turning to you. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step closer to you.

You nod, still looking dazed, and Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He knows that the two of you have a lot to talk about, but for now, he's content to hold you, to feel your heart beating against his chest.

The future may be uncertain, but Joel knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this way about anyone before, and he's not about to let you go.

As Joel holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you finally voice the question that's been lingering between you.

"I guess we can't do this sort of thing around my Dad, huh?" you ask, your voice soft against his skin.

Joel strokes your hair gently, his heart full of emotions he never thought he'd feel again. He marvels at how easily and perfectly this moment has unfolded, how right it feels to have you in his arms.

"We probably shouldn't, not yet," Joel replies, his voice tinged with longing. He feels you nod in agreement, and he knows that keeping this secret will be a challenge.

Joel had left town to escape the past, to build a new future for himself and his daughter Sarah. But now, as he returns to the place where it all began, he realizes that his future is intertwined with yours.

He sees a future with you, a life filled with love and possibility. He dreams of a family with you, of building something lasting and meaningful together.

As he holds you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Joel knows that this is just the beginning.

As you and Joel waste no time getting settled in the new house, the air crackles with anticipation. Joel turns the key in the door, and as you step inside, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of desire.

Without a word, you set down his bag, and Joel takes your hand, pulling you close. He lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around in a dizzying whirl of passion and need.

The lock clicks shut, sealing you both in a world of raw desire and longing. The house feels like a sanctuary, a place where only you and Joel exist, at least for the next hour or so.

"Aren't you gonna show me around first? I had no idea the inside was so nice," you giggle, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the day's events.

"I thought you might like to show me around... your sweet fuckin’ body," Joel rasps in your ear before claiming your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Each touch, each kiss, ignites a fire within you, driving you to the edge of reason.

"You tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin'?" Joel murmurs between kisses, his strong arms wrapped around you. You nod eagerly, your body craving his touch, his presence.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you gravitate towards the nearest soft surface, a luxurious leather sofa in the living room. Joel stops in front of it, but you're consumed by the need for him, the hunger for his touch.

You try to nod, talk, and kiss him all at once, but the overwhelming desire he stirs in you leaves you breathless and unable to form coherent words. "Yeah... fuck... yes, I will," you pant, your body arching into his touch as he explores every inch of you.

Joel lowers you onto the couch, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that matches your own. He drops to his knees in front of you, parting your legs with a firm grip, his gaze locked on your body with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna eat your little pussy, make you come until you beg me to stop,” he says in a firm tone.

His hands move with purpose, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. You gasp and groan as he explores every inch of you, his fingers and tongue setting your body ablaze with pleasure.

As he delves deeper, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, you feel a wave of pleasure building within you, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You writhe and moan under his touch, your body responding to his every move with a hunger that matches his own. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, the air thick with desire and need.

His elbows prop your knees wide, and half-reclined on the worn leather, you can't help but feel a thrill at the sensations coursing through your body.

The scent of old leather and his cologne mingles with the musk of your arousal, creating a heady mix that only heightens your desire. You're ready for Joel, and you know it won't take long for him to bring you to the edge.

With a rough yank, he tears your panties aside, the sound of fabric rending adding to your arousal. You never knew you could feel this horny, and every moment with Joel only intensifies your desire.

He takes a moment to admire your slick folds, his thick fingers gently parting your lips. You grip his silver-flecked curls tighter as he moves down to taste you, your body trembling with anticipation.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with Joel's deep groans of pleasure. His tongue finds its mark, and you can't help but cry out, your body writhing under his touch.

Joel's mouth covers you completely, his tongue replacing his fingers as he explores every inch of your sex. You're on the brink of climax, your body trembling with need.

"Be patient, darlin'," Joel whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with desire. He grips your thighs, pushing them wider apart until his massive head is pressed between them.

You shift your grip to his broad shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Joel... Joel," you moan, trying to tell him how close you are, how much you want him. But all that comes out are animalistic sounds of pleasure.

Joel's body quakes with silent laughter, his voice deep and reassuring as he promises you can come all night. You trace the outline of his jaw, your body trembling with need as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

If heaven exists, you're sure you've found it in Joel's arms.

AN: I'm such a fool to think that this would be a one-shot... ya'll this is now a mini-series. Don't worry... this will be a two to three-chapter kinda series. 🤍

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader series #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader tlou #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal character fanfic

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partycatty · 4 months

Note

Do you plan on continuing new tricks?

perchance.

bi-han > distract me (new tricks 2)

bi-han feels conflicting emotions after your spur-of-the-moment revenge hookup. what better way to relieve that stress through more spur-of-the-moment sex?

warnings: nsfw lol, mean bi-han (so just regular ass bi-han) (seriously i headcanon this man as a MAJOR asshole, like he ain't giving you princess treatment babe), this is a direct sequel, skip halfway down for the porn without plot.

notes: i have never been begged for a pt2 harder than i have for this one-shot. who would've thought y'all would froth this hard! enjoy!

PART 1

johnny's whiny, frustrated voice made your smile curl ear to ear. you won the stupid war he stirred up, and a sense of relief washed over you knowing that johnny's antics would stop.

"so what if i did? why do you care?" you fire back, your smirk dripping so hard from your tone that johnny immediately calls you out on it.

"don't play dumb with me, girl! you're such an asshole. we're REALLY done now," johnny growls, though his words don't hold much value anymore considering he's the one that dug his own grave and got mad when he'd sit in it. before you could correct him by saying you two have been broken up for quite some time, the call ends abruptly.

he falls suspiciously dark on social media in the following days, and you make it a part of your day to check on his pages for any activity to get a sense of his side of the situation. your life is more than your phone though, and bi-han likes to remind you.

you're standing idly on the compound, eyes fixated on your screen. as you're absentmindedly scrolling, bi-han walks by and a cold, calloused hand grabs your chin and flicks your head forward. he doesn't even stop to say anything, just pulls your face away from the screen and walks off with an icy huff.

another time, you're sitting across the table from him, one hand on your chopsticks and the other on your phone. bi-han's hands clench so hard his chopsticks snap. you only notice his annoyance when a thin trail of ice snakes around the dishes, crawls up your elbow, and freezes your hand in place. he takes this opportunity to reach across the table and pocket your device in his breast pocket.

"an unnecessary distraction," he grumbles, settling back to his meal. you're left dumbfounded. and no, you stil haven't gotten it back.

for whatever reason he'd rather die than express, he despises your phone. which is odd, considering how he gripped it like it was going to fly away when you sucked him off.

you tried so hard to push these thoughts away, but they haunted you at night like the Ghost of Christmas Horny. it was downright absurd how much he swirled in your mind after a lowly one-night stand, if you could even call it that!

these thoughts simmered over when you were left alone after a long day. there was a chill of wind through your open windows, letting the moonlight seep through the sheer curtains as they dance. everyone was asleep when you got the idea to attempt to relieve the tension you brought upon yourself from your wandering fantasies.

glancing around to pointlessly ensure you're completely alone, your hand dips under your waistband, feeling your aching sex from lack of stimulation. you gasp to yourself and bite down on your palm to silence yourself. once you feel adequately used to the feeling, you begin to slowly please yourself to the memories of bi-han's cock.

the pleasure wears off, but the neediness doesn't. goddamnit, your mind wasn't enough. you needed porn... or that video. if only you had your phone, but right now it was comfortably hugging bi-han's muscular ice pop biddies. you were jealous.

maybe it was out of pathetic desperation, or maybe it was because you were fed up with this dance you two were doing, but you propped yourself up with a huff, settled your clothes back into place, and sought out bi-han's sleeping quarters. your already throbbing cunt was fluttering at the thought of seeing him again, so late.

you walked a decent amount before finally arriving at his room. as your fingers rested on the sliding handle, you freeze when you hear the noises coming from the other side.

"how about that, cage? taught your dog some new tricks. i'd say she's exceeding expectations."

face contorting into horror and intrigue, you slide the door just a crack, enough to slide a penny through and peer in.

the only glowing lights in the room was a lantern... and what appeared to be your phone screen. you could see the faint colors of your phone case with bi-han's hands gripping the back of it. his back is to you as he sits at his large desk littered with scrolls and stationery.

and then you hear his subtle moans. is he... jerking off to the video...? is that why he wanted your phone so damn bad?

you slide the door open fully, hoping to not make enough noise to startle him. but alas, you remind yourself that he is in fact a hardened ninja who's constantly on edge, of course he heard you.

bi-han twists his torso to meet your gaze with a deep exhale. a thick cloud of frosty air spills from his lips. his eyes are uncharacteristically wide as he's frozen in place. when he regains his sense of dignity, he tries to stuff his dick back in his pants, but this proves to be a challenging task due to his flustered state and... size.

"out," he coldly demands, holding that icy eye contact with you that you curse yourself for folding to.

"i want my phone back," you stand your ground, the tension and catching him in the act giving you a surge of ego.

"out," he commands again, this time sounding more like an owner to his dog.

"or what?"

"or you're fixing what you started."

you lurch forward, trying to avoid the lingering horniness from your earlier desperation but it feels like an olympic sport to avert your gaze from his cock, which looked like a beast held down by the shackles of his pants. the damn thing was spilling from his fly, his shaft visibly abused from his private moment.

this distraction proves to be your downfall. bi-han grabs your neck and spins you, pressing your face into the scrolls atop the desk in retaliation. his other hand wraps around your stomach as he pulls himself close to you. his chest fits against the arch of your back like the world's thirstiest puzzle piece. the cryomancer's cold breath on your ear makes you tremble.

"playing this game, are we?" he asks, tone dripping with malice. "couldn't get me out of your head?"

you swallow deeply, completely pinned by his thick arms. his crotch presses into you, settling nicely between your asscheeks. jesus christ, you forget how girthy it is proportional to your body.

"i just wanted... my phone..." you mutter against the wooden surface your face is being shoved on, attempting to loosen yourself from his grasp which only bites you in the ass when you realize you're grinding on him. "my imagination wasn't enough."

"your imagination?" bi-han grumbles, removing the hand from your torso and snaking it down your waistband. "you couldn't have come to me first?" jealousy and irritation leaks from his words.

you tense up at his abrupt offer, trying to crane your neck to look back.

"i didn't know that was an outstanding offer, bi-haaah-" your retort is cut short when bi-han's thick fingers swipe down your folds, gathering a wetness he didn't expect to find so early into the interaction. you silently thank yourself for prepping without knowing. your knees buckle, but bi-han uses his own legs to keep you upright and still.

he lets out a sigh of pleasure at the sight before removing his hands from you entirely. he makes quick work of your pants before working on himself, unleashing his dick once more. you wish you could admire it or at least face the man that's about to boomerang you from the heavens to netherrealm and back again, but the attempt dies when he grabs both of your hands with one of his own and creates a thick pair of frozen handcuffs. involuntarily, you squirm and thrash against his body, trying to free yourself. it's during one of these shimmies that bi-han positions himself at your entrance with a scowl.

"no use in fighting back. you wanted this," bi-han's hand pushes down on the back of your neck, ensuring you're fully in place for him. in one cruel thrust, he slams his cock into your entrance and buries himself deep. "all you've done is distract me since your stupid offer. this is your punishment, slut."

your horniness from earlier already feels completely satiated as your walls clench around his length. you let out a cry at the abrupt abuse of your cunt, but you're not truly complaining. if anything, this is ten times better than that stupid phone. you bite your lip to try and stop the drool pooling in the corner of your mouth, but it's hard to keep your lips shut when he pulls out momentarily before slamming back in. he needs a license for that bioweapon.

as his thrusts grow more rhythmic and accustomed to your hole, his hand reels back before slapping your ass, squeezing hard and feeling the fat pool around his fingers. he relishes in the feeling, how he missed your warm body against his, though he wouldn't tell you this; he'd show you.

he pounds so hard you're starting to forget why you even came there in the first place. you feel filled to the brim each time he reaches the apex of his thrust, surprised he hasn't completely ripped you in half. sure, you'd fit him in your mouth before, but this was an entirely new sensation, and being bound makes it all the better.

you body quakes from the overstimulation, it's just too big and too much. your lashes dampen from the accumulating tears. the sound of skin on skin becomes deafening.

"'s too much-" you whimper out, legs failing you. the only thing keeping you from sliding to the ground is bi-han's hand on your neck. "sl-slow down, please-"

SLAP. another strike on the ass. bi-han was not happy with your request.

"you're not quitting now," bi-han growls, his hand moving to the front of your neck, clenching your jaw. "i feel how wet you are for me. don't act like you don't need this as much as i do."

oh great heavens. he let his feelings slip.

your eyes roll back at his filthy words, feeling zero shame in agreeing. he was wholly right: you needed him like you needed water. the icy handcuffs start to burn your skin, and the feeling in your hands becomes a memory as you're being plowed by that downright dumb dick. and holy shit, you were far closer than you thought.

"c-can't... for, ngh, much longer," you whine out, matching his thrusts by bouncing back onto him, though you're too sloppy to properly maintain a pace in sync. your walls flutter and the contact creates a soggy sound that drips down your thighs and coats his cock as if you're marking your spot. where you belong.

bi-han fully ignores your heads-up and seeks his own high, eyes transfixed on your ass while it juggles against his hips. he could get used to a pussy like this. he should have come to you sooner. his hands shoot to your hips as he squeezes to tightly bruises bloom from your sensitive skin. his eyes are clenched shut and his head tilts downward as he focuses on cumming, and yes, he will cum inside.

"you're going to take every drop, aren't you," bi-han's voice comes out more whiny than usual. you're already familiar with this tone. "you're mine to use, to... claim... hah-" his stoic manners are coming undone as he loses himself inside of you. both of your moans and grunts become needy whimpers and gasps.

he snaps his hips one last time before genuinely needing your body to keep himself upright. his semen thoroughly coats your pussy's walls as his thrusts stagger lazily. you feel your own coil come undone and a wash of heat encapsulates your body. your orgasms paired together feels messy and yet, so perfect. it's like your body already craves more.

bi-han reaches down to your abused pussy, sticking two fingers inside and holds it there.

"if i catch a single drop on my floor, you're not leaving in one piece," he coldly threatens, using his other hand to stick his appendage back into his pants. you have no energy to protest, you just take his fingers numbly as you sprawl your top half on his desk.

"yes, sir..." you slur out, trying to regain your composure.

"and i'm keeping your phone."

you're too cockdrunk still, so his words don't truly register. you just repeat yourself blindly.

"yes, sir."

bi-han lets out a small, barely-there chuckle to himself. the handcuffs shatter into dull shards of ice, giving you a chance to hoist yourself up properly.

"now, get out of my office," he commands one final time,pointing to the exit. your vision is too fuzzy to see the pleased smile on his lips. maybe he can warm up to you over time?

#mortal kombat #mk1 #bi han #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #mortal kombat x reader #bi han smut

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muzansfangs · 1 month

Text

Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to past Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader;

Format: multi-chapers story;

Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, mention to violence and blood, strong language, choking, hair pulling, biting, marking the partner, kind of toxic dynamic, unprotected sex, touch-starved Sosuke, dom!Aizen, sub!reader, degradation kink, drunk sex, unhealthy coping mechanism;

Plot: Waking up in a familiar room, you soon are face to face with your ‘former’ enemy. Your reunion with Sosuke is intense and, in the heat of the moment, you are overwhelmed by your own emotions. Finding comfort in his arms was not something you had planned, just imagine moaning his name at the top of your lungs

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | TO THE NEXT CHAPTER

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𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

"You are not like them".

You propped your chin over your hand, elbows resting on the table. You could almost hear your step-mother scolding you in the back of your head, her soothing voice inviting you not to forget about your usual composed and inflexible sense of respect for the rules of polite society. In other circumstances, you would have probably listened to her. But not now, when you were confronting the devil himself.

"You are right. Something is clearly wrong with me. — you replied, focusing on the way he was leisurely running the pad of his index around the rim of his goblet — After all, I should cut you down right on the spot. I wonder why I am still sitting at your table, listening to you talking absolute nonsense instead" your voice was distant, devoid of any other emotion that was not sheer frustration.

Sosuke seemed unaffected by your dry words. His lips curved into a pale imitation of a genuine smile. But you knew better than deem anything coming from him as genuine, authentic. Treacherously, he had fooled the entire Soul Society and even you, after he had helped you hiding in his barracks, when the entire Gotei was hunting down you along with Ichigo and his friends.

"You haven't touched your food yet. — he noted, changing the topic of your conversation, his fox eyes softening whilst subtly inspecting your dish — You must be famished" he said, bringing his glass of red wine to his lips.

Your gaze followed his gesture, your stomach churning for both the hunger and, actually, the untainted feeling of being attracted to him. Suppressing your desires had never been so unfairly difficult. It was not a merely carnal whim setting your heart ablaze. It was a devious emotion you could not comprehend.

You snorted, averting your eyes from him and focusing on the white marble at your feet instead "How do I know you have not poisoned it?" you bitterly asked him, jaw clenching in indignation. The smell of the delicious, exotic dish he had asked his Arrancars to prepare for you was flinging around you, the unintentional whiffs you had taken had made your mouth salivate like a starving animal.

Damn him and his villainous antics.

The sound of a chair being dragged on the floor made your head whip towards him again, your heartrate increasing while your hand aimlessly searched for the hilt of your zanpakuto supposed to be secured on your hip, obviously forgetting he had asked Ulquiorra to confiscate it.

Your eyes had widened in horror, upon seeing him approaching you. His feet did not even make a sound, his ethereal way of existing and letting his presence overwhelm whomever was in his area was inhebriating. What you felt was not fear, seeping into your heart and paralyzing you. It was far from that. There was curiosity and defiance in your eyes that the observant man in front of you did not fail to notice.

His hand swiftly reached for the fork, abandoned carelessly on the table. You did not even register him sticking the utensil into a piece of caramelized apple that it was already probing delicately at your parted lips. The sugary taste coating your bottom lip made you flick your gaze up to meet his one, unable to resist the temptation of having a small taste. You had no idea of what game he was playing, a mind game of chess, probably, and he was winning once again. Hazardously opening your mouth, tongue sticking out enough to lick the sugar away from your lips and let your tastebuds explode at the contact of the sweet apple, you gasped as he quickly withdrew his hand and shoved it elegantly into his mouth instead.

He chewed on the morsel of the fruit, gaze transfixed on you and the way you were still looking at him flabbergasted by the action. Messing with you was decidedly his strange addiction. Restraining himself, though, was out of discussion. Just when you thought it could not get any worse, his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing it slowly to collect the small remnants the sugar had left behind, before bringing it into his mouth and sucking it clean.

"I guess now you know the food is edible" he chimed, before discarding the fork into your plate and turning his back at you, leaving you alone with your skin on fire and the rational version of you fading into the abyss of shame and repugnance you pictured yourself in for your inability to block him out of your head.

Your fingers twitched, a silky material making contact with the pads of your fingers as you gradually came back to your senses. Was that a blanket? It did not matter. Bittered, all you could think about was that the loathsome fragment of your past had resurfaced again. You thought you were finally over it, but casting away such experiences was something hardly feasible. This was a core memory that had been pestering you for years. Your permanence in Hueco Mundo had, boyond the shadow of a doubt, scarred you more than you liked to admit to yourself, let alone the others. Triggering it back to life had been the inexplicable appearence of the guest star of your ‘nightmare’ right before your eyes.

Lifting your heavy eyelids up, you noticed your vision was still blurry, dotted, and you quickly blinked a couple of times to clear it out. Wooden architraves and a white ceiling welcomed you in your temporary and oddly familiar shelter. Following the dim yellowish light enlightening the room, your eyes took in the sight of a small lamp on a nightstand at your left. Albeit you had been hiding yourself in this place for two days, you could have never forgotten the minimalistic design of this particular room. You knew this place, your assumptions were proved correct. This was Sosuke’s chamber, back when he was still the kind-hearted Captain of the Fifth Division, the gentleman who had not hesitated to let you use his private quarters as a safehouse to escape the eye of the other Captains.

You should have known a swordsman who had betrayed his comrades by helping the enemy meant no good.

Reminiscing about the time when you believed he was a good man was tantamount of feeding yourself a placebo to forget about the real monster he really was. All you had to do now was flee, leaving that place behind you as soon as possible. Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you let out a soft groan of discomfort, your joints protesting for the effort you were forcing them to make, while you attempted to swing your legs towards the edge of the bed. Letting your feet touch the floor was all you could do, though. To stop you from going further was the wave of intense reiatsu knocking the air out of your lungs for a few seconds. How could you forget he was indeed there too? It was terrifying how his spiritual pressure had not decreased at all, intensifying at unbearable levels instead.

“It’s pouring outside and you’re in no condition to leave this room” his baritone voice pierced your ears, your hands cupping your knees as you dipped your head between your arms in defeat.

He was right, as per usual.

“What are you doing here? I thought Captain Kyoraku had given the order to lock you back into Muken” you replied, refusing to turn around and face him. With your gaze trained on the floorboard, you finally realized your shoes had been removed and you sighed in relief upon ascertaining your thin thigh highs were still on. At least, he had not touched you more than it was strictly necessary.

You heard him sigh, the dull and monotone sound of footsteps echoing in the room preannouncing he was getting closer to you. You stiffened, turning your head to the side, but a gloved hand grasping your jaw roughly and forcing you to look its owner in the eye made you scoff. There he was, standing in all his glory before your eyes, his placid expression making you feel like someone had smashed a glass on your forehead. Handsome in that angelic way that jarred with his personality, Sosuke Aizen was staring intently at your face, his dark eyebrow quirking up expectantly.

Swatting his hand away abruptly, you scooted back on the bed to put some adequate distance between you two, all the while keeping your eyes on him in case he tried to yank you back towards him.

“Don’t touch me. Answer my question” you deadpanned, knitting your eyebrows together and shifting into a kneeling position, ready to attack him if things escalated.

Sosuke grinned, eyes scrutinizing your body shamelessly, before letting his gaze drift back to your face “Now, isn’t it ironic? Every single time I touched you, you had always let me do it without budging to protest. — he started, his characteristic soothing tone of voice causing your upper lip to twitch in annoyance — What’s changed?”.

There was not a dim ounce of a lie in his words. You had never pushed him away, terrorized by his way to find excuses to let your fingers meet, or his hands to slither down your body more than it was necessary during a fight. He indulged in the tension he created with his typical casual attitude, not exposing himself too much, but subtly making sure his intentions were clear to you and that your desires were just as impure as his ones. It drove you mad back then and you had almost missed that feeling of wanting to slaughter him and kiss him so violently at the same time, bathing into a pool of your blood, of his own blood.

You decided to ignore his provocation “What are you doing here?” you pressed through gritted teeth, your voice the only audible sound beside the pattering of the rain against the roof and the glass of the window.

“Enjoying my freedom. You could say I’ve been put on probation for having generously contributed in defeating Yhwach”.

Your eyes widened, watching him showing you two mettalic wristbands secured around his wrists. Thinking about your encounter on the battlefield, you were more than sure he was not wearing them. Whatever this device was had surely been slapped around his wrists after the battle ended. Letting your gaze sizing him up inquisitively, you took notice of other details in his attire. Beside from his eye-patch and the gloved hands, he was not wearing that weird robe to contain his reiatsu, but a simple uniform and greyish haori.

Catching your wandering eyes, Sosuke proceeded to elaborate “Those bands are a gift from Kisuke Urahara. — he clarified, glancing at the said objects scornfully — Apparently, I won’t need to wear that ridiculous costume anymore to contain my powers. He claimed those and the eye-patch will suffice. I decided on my own accord to keep the gloves, in case I felt like murdering him, or the new Captain Commander himself” he stated, making you uncomfortably fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

Honestly, you had no idea how to feel about this. The Central 46 and Shunsui had clearly miscalculated the consequences of setting the special threat free to roam the streets of the Seireitei. With the time he had spent alone in his cell, Sosuke had had enough time to plan another way to demolish the Soul Society and, considering his resentment for your family and friends, the World of the livings too. You were not even sober enough to concentrate. Were the others aware of the freedom granted to him?

“I don’t believe you” you whispered, your hands clutching the fabric of your skirt so tightly your knuckles whitened.

You could already forsee a catastrophy raining down on you and you could not endure more pain and suffering. Not after the recent events, obviously. You were still mentally recovering from the disaster caused by the Sternritters to weild you sword again and point it at Sosuke’s throat again.

“I’m offended. I never lied to you”.

“Yes, you did. When I first met you, Sosuke. You made me believe you were a good man. I have trust issues because of you” you snapped, banging your fist onto the mattress to accentuate your irritation.

“I’m not responsible for what you thought of me, just for what I did for you. I gave you a shelter, but I do not recall telling you I was a good person. — he flatly declared, tilting his head to the side as he scanned your body language — I had no intention to hurt you and I did not. We only clashed swords because you attacked me, after I cut your step-brother open” he punctuated, flash-stepping away just in time to dodge your assault.

You groaned as your blade was now planted onto the wall, right where he was supposed to be a second ago. Your grip on the hilt of your katana tightened, as you heard him humming under his breath. He had hit a nerve and he could not expect you to keep your cool. Rukia’s screams and the sight of your brother slumping onto the ground in a pool of blood had made you see red that day. You aimed to kill, you craved Sosuke’s death.

“I suggest you to cut the crap, because you are not into Muken and no one’s around to stop me from killing you” you coldly said, pulling your sword out of the wall and pointing it back at him. You could tell he was amused by the way he was lifting the angles of his mouth in a lopsided grin you knew way too well.

“I have to correct you. No one would try to stop you anyway. But the real question is: would you be able to kill me?” Sosuke taunted you, a gust of wind whipping your face the only hint you got to realize he was right behind you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, twirling around to swing your sword, but he deftly parred your attack by gripping your blade between his thumb and forefinger. Your movements had been too slow, despite you had gotten much stronger since you two last fought. Clearly, the saké was still in your bloodstream. The moment he tossed your katana away, your back was flattened against the wall, the sound of the blade clattering on the floor making your blood run cold. His hand around your throat, holding you up against the wall, was enough to keep you in place.

His face was dangerously close to yours, his hot breath fanning your lips as your feet kicked the air aimlessly. You thought it was going to be your end, as his half-lidded eye stared deeply into yours. You hated how powerless you felt in his hands, even when you were trying to scratch his arm to convince him to loosen his grip on your neck.

“You are in no shape to fight. Defeating a drunk opponent is against my morals” he cooed, watching you strive to get free.

“Morals? Screw you, since when you have morals?” you fired back, hand flying up to grab a fistful of his soft hair. Not even this was enough to make him desist and ended up spitting on his face out if spite.

Sosuke huffed, his grip on your neck loosening completely as you flopped onto the floor, coughing and panting to steady your breath. Palms planted onto the smooth surface of the floorboards, you squeezed your eyes shut to collect yourself. You were pretty sure his iron grip on your tender flesh would have caused purple bruises to appear on your skin to remind you of how stupid you had been to act solely on your instinct. Wrath, rage, frustration. You had let it all out the moment you had hastily unsheathed your sword with the intent of beheading him.

To interrupt your stream of consciousness was his voice again “I think it’s time to talk about how you ended up swooning on my doorway. Was it Kyoraku’s suggestion to drink your problems away?” he inquired from behind you.

It took you a moment to calm down and push yourself back up, only now assessing how your body was still highly affected by the excessive alcohol consumption. You should have known better than venturing in the Soul Society alone, while out of your mind. You were supposed to be the responsible silbling. The older one, the brilliant one, the selfless one. Yet, there you were: drunk and having a private conversation with your worst enemy.

“Why do you care? Are you interested in pursuing a career as a therapist now? Well, you would suck as a psychologist. — you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose, while leaning back against the wall for support — An emotionally constipated man, who spent a couple of years in isolation, does not allure people to open up about their problems” you ranted, as he took a seat on the edge of his bed seemingly determined to listen to you.

Once again, his face did not leave you room for interpretation about his thoughts. Stoic, unbothered, he resembled a Sphinx. He was enigmatic, too secretive to try to have a normal conversation with.

He closed his eye “Then I will start making assumptions until I hit the nail on the head… Which, considering your inability to mask your emotions, will take me less than a minute” he cooed, clicking his tongue, when you glared at him before ambling towards the desk.

You thought that with your back facing him, he would have not been able to read your face, but you underestimated his powers.

“When a woman stoops that low, it’s pretty evident her problem has the name of a man”.

“Zip it”.

“It’s that pathetic excuse of a Lieutenant, isn’t it? Shuhei Hisagi” he hypothesized, making you halt and look at him in utter disbelief.

Did he know about you and Shuhei? How? Had he been spying on you? It was not possible. Still, how had he been so precise as to ask about that Lieutenant?

“How…” you mumbled, curling your hands around the edge of the desk behind you, lips parted in shock. You had almost missed his way of playing with your mind. No one had ever been capable to easily read your thoughts.

Sosuke smirked “You smelt like him”.

His remark made you freeze solid, brows furrowing before he cut you off again, walking up towards you “His reiatsu. It’s lingering on you. Quite the disturbing element, I have to say” he explained, making you rub the back of your neck in flusteredness.

Now that you were sobering up, bringing up Shuhei and the reason why you had bought that bottle of saké was a slap on the face, a cold shower. You had too much pent up anger and anxiety to deal with. The teardrop falling from your lashes came as a surprise to you, your fingers reaching up to quickly wipe it away, hoping he had not paid enough attention to spot it. Even if he had not, it would have made no difference since more tears began to ooze out of your eyes uncontrollably. A silent cry, the lump in your throat growing, as you cussed under your breath for this pathetic display of weakness in front of someone who did not even have a heart in his chest. Embarrassing, to say the least.

You sighed and tried to head to the bathroom, glad you knew your way around his private quarters. Sosuke, on the other hand, had other plans. His hand latched around your wrist yanked you back against him, you nose accidentally bumping onto his chest, as you let out an almost inaudible gasp. You blinked up at him through teary eyes, his free hand gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he pushed the small of your back against the edge of a desk.

“What has he done that I haven’t to bring tears to your eyes?” he wondered and you swallowed forcefully.

You were probably overreacting and the liquor in your system was making you emotional “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you… I thought drinking would have gotten him out of my head, or maybe helped me to relax. Well, shame on me. Happy now?” you reasoned, shaking your head as he just seemed to push you harder against the desk. The edge was biting onto the small of your back, your already unsteady balance making you unintentionally grip onto his haori not to fall backwards.

Breathing seemed harder now that he was this close. His cologne pierced your nostrils and you mentally cursed yourself for the inappropriate things your body craved. Obnubilated mind, weak mainstay, you watched how he tangled his fingers in your hair and tugged on them, forcing you to crane your neck in a optimal position to look at him straight in the eye. It already felt wrong, the thunders exploding outside reminding you of what you were letting him to do you. Things he had always wanted to do to you, but that he never did.

“There are plenty of other ways to forget about such trivial matters without compromising your liver. — he stated, eye softening as he leaned closer to you, nosing your cheek delicately — Why don’t you let me show you what a man who is starving can really do?” he murmured in your ear, his tone dropping a few octaves and making your knees almost buckle.

“What can a starving man do to someone who cannot stop thinking about another man?” you idly replied with a question, only to shudder as he let out a dry laughter.

“He can fuck him out of your head. Something I will very much do” he rasped out, capturing your lips with his in a fiery kiss.

You did not hesitate to return it, your lips moving in sync, molding together, as his grip on your hair only tightened. Your body reacted to the stimulations, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as if a gust of wind had awaken them from their slumber, forcing their wings to bat erratically and fly away. Your inhibitions were gone, the feeling of finally being able to taste the forbidden fruit, his sinful lips, granting him the chance to hook his hands underneath your thighs and pick you up to settle you on the top of his desk.

Maybe you were so lost into the realm of bliss, his tongue entering your mouth with a growl coming from the back of his throat, that you could swear he almost trembled. His knee soon forced your legs to spread, his hand unceremoniously ripping your uniform open. The sight of your bra, pushing your breasts up, was the last drop before he lost control. All of this, all of you, the girl he had had his eyes on from the day you first met, was now at his mercy, out of breath. He desired to devour you whole, to own every inch of your skin, but he almost felt inadequate. More than touching you, all he needed was to be touched and he would have rather died than admitting it out loud.

Mouth latching onto your neck, he sank his teeth onto your flesh, his hands tugging your skirt down your hips “Control your reiatsu, it’s unstable” he hissed, your cheeks heating up as you realized he was right.

People could think you were in the middle of a fight, or hurt. The last thing you needed now was for someone to burst into that room and ruin this, whatever it was. Why? Because you were dying to feel him deep inside you, to let Sosuke Aizen, a monster, stain you like a bloodstain that could not be washed away.

You lifted your hips, the skirt falling down your legs, as you kicked it off of your ankle “As if you cared about someone walking in” you breathed out, head lolling back in pleasure as his hand slipped past the waistband of your panties. You shuddered, as his gloved fingers seeked your throbbing clitoris, skilfully drawing circles over it to send jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

Sosuke groaned, before stopping to tug your thin underwear down as well, following the destiny of your skirt. Biting onto the fabric of his glove, he then pulled at it and discarded the item away “It depends on who’s the intruder. — he cockily said, hand buried between your legs again, his fingers beginning to tease your opening — If it’s your brother, or your little loverboy, I might fuck you so hard the desk with crumble to pieces” he teased you, furrowing his brows as you impatiently bucked your hips up to invite him to take action.

Sosuke sneered, plunging his index into you, stretching you out slowly, gradually, testing the waters. Your warmth was to die for. The strained moan leaving your lips, body relaxing under his ministrations, only worked as gasoline on a wildfire. Your tightness, not that of a woman unable to relax, but this a young woman he had missed so much. He clenched his jaw, his other hand unhooking your bra and pushing you down, until your back was flattened on the polished wooden surface. Impatiently, you huffed, hands grasping the bra and tossing it away to join the pile of clothes on the floor. You needed more, you needed him.

“Sosuke” you called him out, careful not to add prayers to your already altered voice. Alas, he knew you more than you liked to admit.

“What is it? Do you need more than this? Is your desire to be ruined by me so strong to forget about the concept of decorum? — he mocked you, before shoving another finger into your fluttering hole, grunting at the way your walls clamped down onto them — I will be frank with you. Begging like a cat in heat suits you” he complimented you, his voice dripping sarcasm as he began to curl his fingers into you at a steady pace.

Your legs quivered, back arching, as a familiar pressure coiled on your lower abdomen. This much pleasure, this intense bliss, you only achieved it during a full penetration. No one had ever been able to push you close to your climax by the mere use of his fingers. Your pussy spasmed around his slender digits, the squelch of your arousal coating his fingers, as he scissored them into you, made him grit his teeth. He decided to be selfish, for once. Your nipples stood uptight, jiggling with the way he relentlessly fingered you. You could not reach your orgasm before he did.

That hole, the sight of your core was literally driving him nuts.

Slamming his fist onto the desk beside your head, he pulled out his fingers. His mouth opened, tongue meticulously lapping at his digits, coated with your juices. Hungry, he was hungry and he was so mad he was not in the condition to control his impulses. He hated you for having always been his obsession, instilling that annoying feeling in his heart that made him want to possess you, to paint you body down with his bitemarks, to claim you.

“Damn it” he hissed, pulling you out from you daze. What had just happened? Why did he stop? Was it your fault?

Mortified, you lifted yourself up with your elbows, eyes locking with his ones, but he did not waste any time in pushing your torso back down, hovering over you. You had to know, you needed to understand what was making him falter, when he had no qualms about anything or anyone in this World.

"What's wrong? Am I—" you inquired, breathless, chest raising and falling erratically while the palm of his hand was splayed over your midriff to keep you in place. His touch almost made your skin sizzle, boiling lava over the tender flesh.

"Shut up. — he rasped out, silencing you effortlessly, jaw clenching at the feeling of your skin underneath his fingers — I feel like I could rip you to shreds, if I let myself go".

"Sosuke, I'm fine. I'm not scared" you tried to reassure him, reaching your hand up to graze his cheekbone with your fingertips. But his free hand stopped you, clasping around your wrist tightly as he pinned you down with a glacial glare.

He was on the verge of losing himself. You had never seen him like that, so humanly fragile.

"You don't seem to understand that, if I fucked you the way I want to do it now, I would tear you apart" he hissed, a knot forming between his eyebrows, as the iron grip on your wrist intensified, making you wince softly.

And God, you found yourself wishing he was going to keep his promise in that very moment. His eye glinted in raw desire, your thighs spread wide in front of him showing your glistening intimacy. His cock twitched at the sight. The need to be inside of you was gnawing at him to the point he made up his mind quickly. He needed to have you, but he needed to feel like you wanted him, as if he was the solution to all of your problems. Your lips on his body, your hands around him and your pussy welcoming him inside.

"Ride me. Ride me now" he commanded through gritted teeth.

You gawked, watching how he took a few steps back to remove his clothes. The haori, the uniform, everything fell at his feet, except for his eye-patch. For some reason he had not even tried to remove it. Running your fingers through your hair, your eyes roamed down his body. His pectorals, the chieseled abs, and you were surprised to see that the purple stone once protruding from his stomach was now fully incoporated into him, no more scarring his perfect body. The infamous Hogyoku. There was something else, though, your eyes landed on. His twitching cock, straight as a ramrod, girthy enough to make you question if it would have fit into you.

Hopping down from the desk, your opened uniform fell from your shoulders, as he sat down on the bed, mirroring his pose from when he used to sit on his throne in Las Noches. You felt almost inexperienced in front of him and you probably were, considering the real age gap between you two. Your cheeks boiled, as you finally stood right between his spread legs and you inhaled sharply, as he gripped your hips tightly to help you to straddle him. Squeezing your arse, you felt his tip brush against your opening and you shyly wrapped your hand around his length to line it up to your aching core. Sosuke groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, teeth sinking onto the flesh as he held you tightly against him. It was in that very moment you realized what was wrong with him. He needed you.

“Sosuke…” you whispered, moaning softly, as his tongue ran flatly over your jugular, feeling your pulse as you began to lower yourself down onto his shaft.

He grunted, arms firmly wrapped around your waist, as you let him stretch you open inch by inch. Breathless, blissfully content, you whined, when you finally had him fully sheathed into you. He needed this, he needed you and he kissed you passionately not to allow a single word to escape your lips. Years of yearning, years of solitude and you were perpetually stuck in his head.

“Are you sure Hisagi fucked you properly? You are so… Shit!” he cut himself off, when you began to rotate your hips to find a pace. His ones did not waste any time in meeting yours, thrusting upwards as he heard you whimper from above him.

You had no strength to talk, all you did was riding him, while his hands, soon settled over your hipbones, guided you to a tempo he liked. Sensual, yet rough. Animalistic like the guttural moans he released in your ear. He was reaching spots into you no one had ever reached. The slight sting of pain the moment his tip brushed your cervix made you cry out, mouth hanging open as your nails scratched down his shoulderblades, his muscles flexing as a response.

“Sosuke…” you whispered, half-lidded eyes peering down at him, when your thighs began to tremble. You had no stamina to ride him anymore, you needed his help. Assistance that you tried to obtain by leaving sloppy kisses over his jawline, earning a growl from him.

Flipping you over, your back met the mattress, his hands making sure your thighs were hooked around his waist “Desperate, aren’t you?” he breathed out, sheathing himself back into you slowly, enjoying how you fit him like a glove, squeezing him up perfectly.

Too far gone to retaliate, you kissed him to silence him, moaning into his mouth when he began to thrust into you again. There was no room between you two anymore. His chest was pressed against yours, his movements soon faltering, getting sloppier, as he neared his climax. The moment you shuddered, his tip hitting your g-spot again, your vision got blurry and came with a loud moan he did not bother suffocating. It was enough.

Twitching into your sensitive core, Sosuke gritted his teeth and milked your insides, puffed up with pride of having stained you, Isshin’s daughter, the first born of his adventure in the world of the living. Maybe his thirst for ruining you, for leaving a part of him deep into you, found its root in his hate for Isshin. Indulging into such thoughts now was useless, as he watched you panting underneath him, heavy eyelids and writhing frame.

Sosuke pulled out of you, lying down next to you “What are you thinking about?” he asked, closing his eye and accomodating himself in a better position.

“Everything, but not him”.

He grinned to himself, reaching his hand out to switch the lights off “That’s what I thought” he said, as the darkness enveloped the room.

You sighed, body aching, as you ran your hand over your stomach absent-mindedly. What had you done? Copulating with the enemy, letting him shoot his load into you, and now even spending the night into his bed. For once, however, self-deprecating was not in your plans. You felt good, happy even. You had tomorrow to deal with your problems and tonight to forget your moral codes. Pulling the blankets over you two, Sosuke kept his distance, unfamaliar with the thought of someone else sleeping next to him.

The silence swallowing you two must have spoken volumes for you to say “If you want, I can leave…”.

But he did not mind, not when you felt his hand finding yours underneath the blankets “Stay”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I should apologize for the filth you have just read. Instead, I am already planning other devious, despicable things to happen between the reader and Sosuke. Ah, me and my unhealthy obsession. See you in the next chapter and thank you so much for your kudos and hits! Do not be afraid to leave a feedback, I love interacting with my readers! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @onyxino @pseudowho @seireiteihellbutterfly

#aizen sosuke x reader #aizen sousuke #bleach x reader #bleach smut #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen smut #aizen x reader #bleach x you #hisagi shuhei x reader #bleach #captain aizen x reader #aizen sosuke smut #sosuke aizen

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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

Note

Imma be an anon cause I'm bit scared . I fell in love with the way u write.

May I get a Headcanon with nanami if you're comfortable 🥺

A hurt /comfort where NANAMI raised his voice at reader which lead reader to distance him for a long period?

You can go anything with the plot . Thank you!

Hey honey, I'm not writing headcanons atm because I'm not comfortable with, but I decided to turn this into a full on fic instead - hope you like it, let me know! ♡

Nanami Kento raising his voice at you

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: He had no other choice but to scream at you in the middle of a fight, snapping at you like he never did before. It took both of you a few weeks to realize that you can't be with each other...

Warnings: Listen, I adore the gentleman Nanami fics (as you can see on my own blog lol) but it was so much fun to let this man snap as well, to let his temper show once, this is a classy hurt to comfort with some angst - enjoy!

„Don’t do it, (y/n). You’ll get yourself in serious danger. Stay behind me and let me handle this.”

You huff in sheer frustration, eyes piercing through the back of his perfect undercut. Why? Why isn’t Kento Nanami able to trust you? You are a grade 1 sorcerer just like he is, so skilful with handling your sword that even Gojo is impressed by your abilities. But despite all of that, he positioned himself in front of you instantly when that special grade curse appeared, blocking every minor attack that might come your way.

Oh, how much you love that man, how much you adore the way he cares about you deeply. It’s not a secret to anyone how you feel for each other, how your eyes light up when he enters the room, how his gaze instantly softens for only you.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle this myself.”

But this is too much. Damn, you’ve been a jujutsu sorcerer as long as he is, constantly training to get better and better. It’s not fair to lock you out of this fight when your-

“Stop contradicting me all the time!”

The sharp tone in his usual calm voice makes you flinch, body moving backwards automatically when he turns around. His eyes are cold, so cold that your blood seems to freeze in your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, especially not when it comes to you. That sweet and tender man with a face that doesn’t show any emotion most of the time now looks down at you with venom spitting from his orbs, arms so tight that his veins look like they’ll burst any minute.

“This is too big for you. Now do me a favour and stay.in.line.”

“But I’m-“

“ENOUGH!”

“Kento!”

“You are acting like a stupid child! Now do what I said!”

You are lost at words, eyes staring into his furious ones until he turns around and hunts after the blue-haired curse named Mahito again.

A wave of agony washes over you before you can stop it, body feeling numb. It’s ridiculous to be hurt about his words, surely he didn’t mean to raise his voice at you, but still…

You swallow hard. But still it fucking hurts. Since you’ve known him, Kento never snapped at you. Not once, not in a million lifetimes. He was always tender when expressing his opinion just like you are. Yes, there were never heated arguments, cruel words or loud voices from any of you. But he just broke that unsaid rule.

He really hit you where it hurts.

-back at jujutsu high-

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Your fingers ruffle through the pink hair in front of you gently, eyes scanning over Yuji’s bruised body. What an impressive boy he is. How did he manage to break through this sphere, to almost end that curse? For a new jujutsu sorcerer, he is remarkably skilled - and a true sweetheart on top.

“I’m doing fine, don’t worry about me, (y/n)-san. How are you feeling? You seem so…I don’t know, different I guess. Are you alright?”

You force a small smile onto your shaky lips. Is it selfish that you can’t forget the way Kento barked at you, that he basically told you you are too weak for this fight? You wish you were better than that, strong enough to outstand your self-seeking feelings and visit him in the hospital wing.

But you simply can’t. Not right now. Not when his stinging voice is still so present in your mind.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Hey, how you’re doing, sweet cheeks? Nanami is asking for you, are you free?”

You swallow away the big lump forming in your throat, eyes not daring to look up at her.

“Actually, I still have to tell Gojo what happened. Thank him for his invitation, I have to keep going.”

You need to get out of here as fast as possible, away from the stinging gaze of Shoko who knows exactly something’s up, who eyes you up and down. As if in trance you storm out of the hospital wing, straight into the burning hot sunlight, heart pumping so hard against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any possible minute.

“ENOUGH!”

His voice still echoes through your head, makes you feel like a child again. Kento never looked at you this coldly, without any emotion in his usual so soft orbs. What on earth did you do to upset him like this? After all, you were on countless missions together before, defeated multiple grade 1 curses side by side. What was different this time? Was it Yuji, the bad weather? Why did he decide to scream at you like this?

“What are you doin’ here? I was already on my way to look after you in the hospital wing. Aren’t ya supposed to be by Nanami’s side?”

Your heart stops for a minute. Fuck, Gojo Satoru and his cheeky smile are definitely the last thing you need right now. If he only knew how much his words make your heart sting in agony, how much strength it costs you to act like nothing happened. You know how ridiculous it must be, avoiding the love of your life over some random words and a harsh tone.

But you can’t help it.

“I was on my way to report about the mission”, you explain briefly.

“Is there something you need to tell me? C’mon, you can’t even look at me (y/n).”

Your glossy eyes dart towards Gojo. God, how pathetic you feel. Why aren’t you able to just get over it and move on? Why are you making things so hard for both you and Kento, standing here on the brink of tears instead of being by his side?

“I can’t have it right now, Gojo. Just leave me alone.”

But despite the way your heart aches for him, you continue walking towards your dorm. That stone cold look on his face, the way he clenched his fists.

“This is too big for you.”

“You are acting like a stupid child.”

You shake your head violently. No, you aren’t able to simply forgive and forget what you saw that mission. This man wasn’t the Kento Nanami you know and love, not the man you thought he was. What if it was all a lie? What if this is what he really sees in you? A weakling, a dumb child.

Breathe in, breathe out, don’t lose your composure.

“I need some time for myself…”

-a few weeks later-

Kento hates it with every fiber of his being. Waking up in the morning, your face still present in his sleep-drunken mind until reality hits him. Since he lashed out, you didn’t talk more than a few necessary sentences with him. And even though you don’t seem to be cold and distant, everything just changed.

Oh, if he could turn back time, if he was able to take back all those things he said to you. He should have stopped when you flinched backwards, should have stopped when your eyes turned glossy. But he knew your life was in serious danger, that Mahito is no curse to be messed with. The decision between hurting your feelings or watching you die…

At least you’re safe. At least Mahito was too focused on finishing him to even involve you into his sphere. This should be everything he cares about, it’s only naturally that you are hurt. But still…What would he do to hold you again, what would he do for you to smile at him as brightly as you did back then. He misses you with his whole heart.

“You could just try talking to her, y’know? I bet (y/n) might understand”, Gojo tries to cheer him up, legs laying stretched out on the table between them.

“I don’t want to force myself onto her. After all, I deserve her anger and disappointment.”

And oh, it was written on your face. The way your trembling lips parted, how your eyes widened just the slightest when his words hit you like a train.

“C’mon, don’t be so hard on yourself-“

“I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for doing that”, he interrupts the white-haired man determined.

“Well, could you forgive yourself if she got killed?”

Nanami lets out his breath, simply stares into the distance. Of course Gojo is right. Damn, he doesn’t regret his decision. But still…

It hurts.

“Sorry. Do you have a minute to…talk?”

His heart stops beating. There you stand, nervously picking on your nails while you look at him. God, he always looks so fine. Why on earth does he have to look so fine? No, you have to focus. After all, you are here to talk things out. These last weeks were nothing but torture for you, your heart bleeding waterfalls every time you saw him. Oh, you never knew you were able to crave someone else this badly.

But there you are, standing in the door like an idiot.

“You sure can! I’m doing…some other stuff I guess. See ya!”

Within the blink of an eye, Gojo is gone in the wind and leaves you alone with him.

“You don’t have to stand there. Please, sit down.”

That gentle tone you know you well, his inviting voice that makes your stomach drop from time to time. With wobbly legs, you cross the room to sit opposite to him on the still warm chair of Gojo.

What are you supposed to say? How are you supposed to act? Your mind goes blank, forgets every little piece of conversation you trained these last days. Fuck, why are you even here? Maybe you should just leave-

He grabs your hand.

Nanami Kento grabs your hand.

“Let me apologize for the things I said to you back then. It was in no way right to snap at you like that. But when I saw what Mahito is able to do, when I realized he is far better than all the other special grade courses I ever encountered…(y/n), it might sound selfish, but all I could think about was saving you.”

You stare at him in utter disbelief, heart beating out of your chest. Did he…did he really say that?

“You…wanted to save me…”

“You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than me. But if it wasn’t for Yuji, I would be dead by now. To think that you might die…I couldn’t take it, (y/n). You are everything to me.”

“Everything…”

“This might be the wrong moment, the worst timing for saying such things. But I love you, (y/n). I loved you with all my heart for ages, love you for everything you are. Even though you aren’t able to forgive me what I said, even though you don’t want to see me again…(y/n), I love you.”

The countless nights you kept yourself awake pondering about how he feels for you, the countless nights his words echoed through your heart. The countless nights you thought you interpreted his affection wrong, that he doesn’t feel the same.

Vanished into thin air.

Nothing but a fade whisper in the darkness.

“These last weeks you were all I could think about. I thought you might not feel the same, that you might not be the person I thought you were-“

He squeezes your hands firmly, the troubled ocean of his eyes getting lost in yours.

“I’m not able to put my feelings into words the way you deserve it, (y/n). But I know for sure that I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

You snap. All these nights without him, the grief you were put through, his gorgeous face close enough to touch while you couldn’t allow yourself to. With a swift motion you crawl over the table that divides the two of you, closing the distance of these past weeks with a kiss.

A kiss that contains all the anger, the disappointment and the affection you hold for him. That gorgeous man who swept you off your feet. That gorgeous man who showed a side you’ve never seen before, who risked his own life in order to save yours.

Nanami Kento.

“God, I love you (y/n). I love you so much”, he mutters against your lips, hands pressing you firmly against his warm body.

“I don’t want to let go again.”

He smiles against your mouth, eyes gleaming like the sun itself.

“Then don’t”.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for setting a boundary on a Minecraft server that I didn’t want to interact with one of the admins after he quit my partner’s dnd campaign?

I (20, nonbinary) was on a lgbtq+ discord and had become friends with a trans guy (henceforth referred to as A) who was a minor. This was easy to forget as he made raunchy jokes, got drunk and high on call, and I have horrible memory issues (so I often opt to just remember people’s names and topics I should avoid around them via making little notes.)

We would very often end up in a vc together with others from the server, including our respective partners, chilling, playing games, sharing fun things we found. (His partner will henceforth be referred to as B, and mine as C) (I had known his partner before from another server and was happy to see them getting along then eventually getting together)

(C especially would always give advice like “if you’re drinking, make sure to eat/get some carbs, drinking on an empty stomach is bad!” Because they love researching medical effects to make their writing and worldbuilding feel more realistic)

There were a handful of incidents where I believe I was the asshole

I loved showing off games and musicals to people, and this has the unfortunate effect of sometimes unintentionally saying words that anger people.

Incident 1) I was playing a game and mindlessly saying location names- and I got a dm- I pause to glance at it- and I got a message saying “hey remember [redacted] is A’s deadname and he’s uncomfortable that you keep saying it”. I pause, make a mental note of “but. It. Wasn’t directed at him?” Then continue playing, dodging saying the name for the rest of my time showing the game.

Incident 2) I was showing off a musical I like- and there’s a cute scene where a character suggests a name for another character, saying that they don’t need it anymore, and it just so happened to be A’s deadname again.

Incident 3) I was playing Sea of Thieves solo- and struggling. I’d been hit by lightning, and now was being attacked by a shark. A and B were making fun of the fact I had slipped into an accent out of sheer panic so I (enraged and not thinking at all) said “I’ll name the damn shark after you, fillet and gut it!” (A really likes sharks. I also like sharks but apparently not as much as him)

(I apologized for this on call later, saying that I was emotional and mad, and if I’d been thinking I wouldn’t have said that. I also apologized for the previous incident about the deadname)

A and B had also joined C’s dnd campaign alongside another one of our mutual friends, D (who did not leave the campaign, but that’s not important right now). I have reason to believe C told the others they couldn’t be either of the two classes I said my character thought they were, but I don’t know. Things went great (or so I thought) we got some plot trails (one connected to the race of my character, one being D’s character’s family) and everything seemed fine- A was flirting with a lot of the enemies and NPCS (C found the character arts via google images and unfortunately ‘attractive’ seems to be a main character design commonality)

Then one day, I woke up to check the campaign discord because of a ping and noticed both A and B had left the server and there was no new messages- confused, I hopped into call with C- who explained that A had dropped a long list of accusations about Myself and C, essentially insulting us and accusing us of things like ‘sending NSFW things to kids’, ‘acting like the victim’, ‘naming a character A’s deadname’, ‘DM favouritism’, and a whole bunch of other things. I was- shocked.

(A also apparently messaged D and said something like “sorry for ending the campaign like that, if you want to use your character you can always write with me!” And got angry when D said they didn’t leave the campaign.)

(C is also a generally sex-repulsed Asexual. They were forcing themself to become more comfortable with it because of A’s raunchy jokes)

This was followed by some harassment from A and B.

A tried publicly calling out C on social media (which C had only used to make a single post sharing something they had made for someone’s art/design) for “sending nsfw things to minors” and on another platform for “being a fake ass bitch”, as well as both of them heckling a new haircut I’d been nervous but excited to try and get for years and just figured out how to ask for (responses such as “omg no ew why would you do that”), as well as A saying “no I don’t” a picture I shared of C and I going to see a musical together with the caption “you wish you were here!” (All were shared and reacted to publicly on the discord server)

(To be fair about the haircut- the stylist had cut part of it a little too short and it made my face look especially chubby)

This is where I start to feel less like the asshole

So I went on the discord for the Minecraft server and said “hey, I don’t feel comfortable interacting with A after the allegations they’ve been making”. A immediately got defensive and angry about me saying “allegations” and kicked me from the discord before I could defend myself (and C).

I explained the situation to the admin of the server we’d met on, who also owned the Minecraft server, and apologized to them that they had to moderate. Both A and I lost our mod privileges on the discord, and I also found out A had been given multiple “cease and desist”s for… saying/sharing vulgar/nearly nsfw things on the discord before. And they did it again. The reason they were never banned or kicked was that the admin had made it in hopes that A would make friends.

Now. To a part that still horrifies me.

A legitimately found out C’s mom’s number, and called her to insist that C sent NSFW things to minors. (C suspects that they got it from a time C called the police out of genuine concern for A who hadn’t responded to any messages in around a day)

C also told me that the most they had sent A was like. Attractive anime guys from the first page of google images because C really liked big anime man chests. A apparently sent C full on p*rn once.

The problem is- I feel like I was the asshole- even though most of the “incidents” were accidents because I try to not remember someone’s deadname because- it’s? Not their name anymore? And it didn’t help that I genuinely do not remember being told it was their deadname until after incident 1.

Was I the Asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

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Can I ask why you don’t like Vil much? If you haven’t answered that already?

For me, I also didn’t like him at first but loving Rook has turned me into a Vil lover 😭.

[Referencing this tier list!]

A significant part of it is no fault of Vil's own, it's just... I have a very strong aversion to celebrity characters. This dislike scales up the more famous that celebrity character is + how much attention is brought to their status, and well... Y'all know perfectly well how famous Vil is 🤡 This is why I also dislike his father to some degree, though it's to a lesser extent because I at least appreciate Eric being involved in his son’s life + find Eric to be friendly.

Celebrity characters tend to make me feel deeply uncomfortable chiefly because their careers put them in a position where they're ripe for parasocialism (which is when one party, ie their fans, extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, ie the object of their affection, is completely unaware of the other's existence). Parasocialism in of itself is not a negative thing by default; it can, in fact, be a powerful motivator to improve oneself or can significantly lift one's mood. Some sectors entirely rely on parasocialism to function (such as the "influencing" industry).

Where it starts to get iffy for me is when we veer into the most parasocial of fans who will take extreme actions to support and/or hate on an individual. These are your stalkers, your sasaeng fans, etc. While I'm aware that these are the vocal minority of a celebrity's fanbases, the kinds of things these extremely parasocial fans pull off deeply unnerves me. Like Vil, the celebrities involved are by no means at fault—but they’re always “tainted” in my mind by the association due to the sheer magnitude of what their most crazed fans do in their name 💀 So when I think of that celebrity… I also think of the insane stuff they have to deal with from their fans and that stresses me out.

I find the whole “celebrity worship” culture in of itself very odd. It’s difficult for me to form an attachment to a real person that doesn’t or cannot reciprocate. By extension, it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around activities like following the celebrity’s life closely, supporting any and all projects due to their involvement alone, and collecting merch/signatures. Thinking of Vil’s fans doing this… (or, as seen in the Tapis Rouge event, getting emotional/shrieking for him, begging for a glance, fainting, etc.) it invokes those feelings of discomfort again.

Finally (regarding the celebrity thing), Vil and other famous people tend to be in the spotlight. I don’t really like this sort of a presentation; it calls too much attention to them. This runs counter to the types of characters I tend to gun for: the schemers who operate from the shadows, typically appearing innocuous or humble at first glance. These characters stay out of the spotlight and prefer it that way, as it allows them more freedoms to enact their plots. Celebrities’ positions don’t really allow for that. Even if their off-camera persona is completely different than their on-camera one, the attention they’re showered with never seems to fade.

I also find Vil’s entire presence way too intense (even when he’s lined up next to arguably much more physically imposing students like the 180 cm+ squad or any muscular character). This is why I can tolerate Neige but dislike Vil; Neige comes off as innocent and approachable—so much so that I don’t even register him as an idol or a celebrity in my mind. He’s just a cute boy-next-door type inviting me to dance and sing with him and his friends!

Vil’s hair, makeup, tall heels, the need for perfection, his sternness. It’s a LOT to take in. I can admire the confidence and the tenacity with which Vil pursues beauty, but at the same time… it can come off as super overwhelming. I don’t think I could comfortably breathe in the same space as him without feeling like I’ve offended his sensibilities 😅 Sometimes I get a little anxious just reading him scolding others; it feels like he’s reaching through the screen and scolding me too. I get the overwhelming vibes even through the things Vil creates or commissions; the composition and choreography of Absolutely Beautiful was so oppressive and centered on winning that I disassociated from my own school’s team 💀

Some other minor, miscellaneous gripes I have with Vil:

I don’t generally have a problem with Vil’s leadership or how he guides/teaches others. (His behavior is very similar to what I’ve experienced within my own culture’s upbringing.) However, I do not approve of all of his methods and I do think he does “too much” at times + oversteps, making me feel uneasy.

His tastes don’t really match mine! It’s a little too “glam”, especially the ensembles with heavy smoky eyes.

What’s with him dying the ends of his hair that color… It makes me think of him dunking his head in grape Kool-aid as a dye 😭/j

There we are ^^ I hope that explanation was sufficient!! I tried to explain my… admittedly complex feelings behind my dislike of Vil as neatly as I could. Nothing against the guy, how he is written, or his fans (both in-universe and irl), of course!! This is just my opinion.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Vil Schoenheit #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question

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storm-and-starlight · 19 days

Text

revisiting my opinions on which doctors could pull off Heaven Sent

could do it with minimal alterations to the original episode's plot and dialogue

Twelve - obviously

Eight - could 100% pull off the speeches and the angst and, of course, the memory loss. The episode would definitely be focused a little more on the great tragedy of dying over and over and over again just in the hopes of making it through enough loops to break out, and Eight would be much much more of a sad wet cat about it all, but he could totally pull it off.

Seven - would take a bit more tweaking than Eight (specifically to change the focus of the episode to the puzzle of it all, finding the right room and figuring out the secret of the Veil), but would 100% punch his way through the wall and be able to pull off the speeches.

could maybe do it? but with pretty major edits

Four - definitely has the charisma and the ability to give the speeches, but I don't know if the speeches as written would fit well into how Four talks, and he'd also need the same tweaking at Seven to make it more about solving the mystery, rather than the very atmospheric style of the original. The wall scene would also probably have to be reworked, since Four doesn't really seem like the type to punch through it in the exact same way as Twelve.

Three - could and would punch through the wall and would do it in half the time of Twelve but couldn't carry off the angst or the atmosphere, so you'd need some pretty dramatic rejiggering of the major stylistic choices in order to make it work. Honestly, you might have to really lean into a, like, horror/thriller kinda thing, with the pursuit of the Veil?

could pull off a focus episode but would need a fundamentally different style

Ten/Fourteen - absolutely has the screen presence but they need someone to talk to in order to get it, and the same is true of their problem-solving style. They need someone to bounce off of as an antagonist and as a companion -- basically, they need the same setup as Wild Blue Yonder, which is basically exactly what Fourteen's version of Heaven Sent would be anyways. (Also Ten doesn't do speeches like Twelve does, and definitely wouldn't punch through the wall -- his problem-solving style leans more towards the whole "push a single button that sets off a chain reaction that solves everything" rather than sheer stubborness. He doesn't have the attention span for the wall.)

Nine - Nine also has the screen presence but his comes when he's angry at something, which means that he needs something to yell at, so he would also need another speaking being present in the episode for him to get really really mad at. Think Dalek but without the Rose subplots?

probably not (note: the major reason why none of these work for Heaven Sent is because they're all Doctors that work best with an ensemble cast around them -- they sacrifice intensity and screen-presence for the sake of letting other characters shine)

Eleven - doesn't have the screen presence for that kind of intensity, alas. He could pull off the speeches in his own style, but he's not hypnotic while doing them the same way Twelve is, and he definitely doesn't have the type of personality to pull off the wall. His best emotional episodes are smaller and closer to the heart, and Heaven Sent is anything but small.

Five - could not pull off the speeches or the wall or the puzzle. He's a sweetheart and a golden retriever but he's not nearly dramatic enough to carry a solo episode like that.

Two - same as Five, really

One - just... no. I can't pull out any reasons (it might just be that he's from an era of television that was so very different in how it constructed stories), but no

no clue

Fifteen - hasn't been around long enough for me to get a sense of his personality

Thirteen - never really had a consistent personality in the first place. or any good emotional episodes so I don't feel like I know her well enough to make a judgement call

Six - just straight-up haven't seen very much of his run so I couldn't say how he'd fit in Heaven Sent.

#doctor who #first doctor #second doctor #third doctor #fourth doctor #fifth doctor #sixth doctor #seventh doctor #eighth doctor #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor #heaven sent

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 7 months

Note

request for yan!villain Eros: What happens that after the kiss in the garden, mc avoids him like a plague (I wouldn't do that he's hot)

Yandere! Villain x Regressor! AFAB! Villainess! Reader part 2

I'M MAKING THIS A PART 2 OF THE CANNON PLOT BECAUSE HELLO?? THIS IS GOOD (the ask, not my writing LMAOOO)

I'm gonna start answering the recent asks tomorrow after I made my draft for our Theatre play! So be patient please (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`)

Pookie you wouldn't do that to him, would you?? He would literally cry like a baby then burn the whole empire down 🥲

Don't believe me??

This is short, but I wrote everything I can.

Eros sat inside his luxury carriage.

He's in front of your chateau, waiting for you to come outside.

It's been a week since he kissed you, and ever since then, you avoided him like the plague.

At first, Eros thought you were only shy. Maybe heartbroken over the fact that your fiance cheated on you.

But no.

No no no no...

You've been avoiding him and leaving him hanging.

What's that called again back in earth?

"Ah... She fucking ghosted me." Eros whispered to himself, gripping his fist. Even the leather gloves wasn't able to withstand the sheer force of his grip that it slowly ripped, and ripped. And ripped.

His patience was running thin.

He's not playing.

"Ah..." He brushed back his hair. His eyebags dark and deep, he stared at the ceiling, wondering where it went wrong. Then, the waterworks came.

Tears started to slowly drip down his cheeks as his eyes stung. His vision blurry, he lets the tears flow down to his neck or drip to his expensive outfit. He doesn't care. All he feels is the longing he had for so long for you.

He wants to see you, hold you, and care for you.

The memories of you dying in front of his eyes as the bitch who shall not be named blasted her magic straight to your chest.

He remembered how your whole body shook with resistance due to suddenly being hit with an elemental magic that is the opposite of you. Golden veins creeping up to your neck. Your eyes turning white. Your hair frying in the ends. He remembered it all.

He remembered how he was actually the one who insisted on you greeting the fucker (prince) and the bitch (Elysia). He naively thought that a closure was in motion.

He remembered how the guards, along with the prince, ordered for your arrest as a dark magic user. Elysia, smirking under her fan, woed about how the prophecy told her of how dark magic users are evil.

He remembered how he immediately fled from inside, running to your side, and hugging your comatose body. He remembered injecting so much dark mana into you so that you'll live. He remembered encasing the both of you with a barrier that no one can penetrate, and declared war then and there.

He remembered how his company became the sanctuary for dark magic users. He remembered how the top floors are converted to a hospital just to house you.

He remembered the pain, the agonizing, torturous pain he went through in order to achieve revenge on your stead.

He remembered blood. So much blood.

He was not the same anymore.

He remembered burning down the empire to the ground, walking in their blood as he carried your body to the throne.

So much happened, yet it felt like it wasn't enough.

And when he killed your comatose body and himself, and woke up regressed, he knew he had to save you.

He remembered seeing you alive and kicking again. It felt like a dream, crying into his bed, relieved.

Now, he's crying once more.

It's because he remembers everything.

He loves you, so much.

He swore in his last life that this would be his last with you.

The life where you are happy. The life in which you're not dead.

A life where you're not constantly being trampled on. A life where you're lifted up rather than being pulled down.

A life in which you're loved.

He's always been kind of an emotional mess since this life. But can you blame the man? He's been through so much for you.

But he will do it once again.

Not to prove himself.

Absolutely not. He doesn't care about himself.

But if it's for you, he will.

You're his beloved employee.

His love is extreme. He always knew this.

But why wouldn't a man bring the whole world to his beloved's feet?

Are they insecure? Do they think their beloved is not worthy?

Mixed frustrations welled up inside him once more.

He wiped his tears and sighed.

He doesn't want to do this, but if he wants to take revenge for you and offer the world to you, he will.

Hid gaze suddenly turned sharp and cold as he saw the Imperial carriage speeding to your gates. It seems that your... Ex fiance is desperate to get you back.

He once loved this guy as his best friend, but he's your tormentor. And he doesn't forgive tormentors. Your tormentors.

Dark tendrils leaked from the bottom of his well polished shoes, threatening to spike up and kill the prince who was yelling for you in front of the gates. Murderous intent leaking from his body as he cracked his neck and planned for an earlier war.

Heroes can sacrifice their love for the world,

But villains will sacrifice the world for their love.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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ad0rechuu · 10 months

Text

JUNG WOOYOUNG’S SUPERPOWER. ━━ JWY

prompts / plot. ━━━━━ excitedly grabbing each other's hands during a concert and jumping up and down together & good night kisses

requested by @jaehunnyy. ━━━━━ gn! reader x non idol! jung wooyoung , fluff , staring: only wooyoung & yn , tw: one (1) mention of anxiety , wc: 671 , notes: thank you for being my first request chippie and sorry that it took so long but i loved writing wooyoung and ur request !

[ listening to . . . ] coloring book by the regrettes

masterlist | credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

YOUR BEST FRIEND, JUNG WOOYOUNG, HAD A SUPERPOWER.

He had shown up at your home last minute with two concert tickets for his and your favorite band in his hand and basically dragged you to the venue no matter how much you scolded and nagged at him for his impulsivity. Still, as the venue filled up with more excited fans, you felt your heart racing.

And before any negative thoughts could ruin your night, he had cupped your hands in own, jumping up and down giddily as soon as the music started.

The smile on his beautiful face was almost blinding. You could barely hear his voice as he sung with the band wholeheartedly. You knew it would sound good to you anyway. Even if it wasn't the best, you knew it wouldn’t matter to you because he was Wooyoung.

It made you realize the sheer strength of his power.

Wooyoung’s superpower wasn’t anything like you saw in the media like teleportation, super speed, or telekinesis.

His superpower was greater than that. It made you feel comfortable no matter how deep you could talk yourself into anxiety. His superpower effortlessly lifted you up when life dragged you down.

AS THE TWO OF YOU off the bus and walked the familiar way home, ecstatic from the concert, you couldn’t help but replay the memories of the two of you dancing together.

The entire evening was a challenge to keep your eyes off the boy by your side, and it still proved difficult as you two set foot on the street heading towards home.

A strange feeling bubbled up in your belly as you spotted your home in the near distance; you realized your night with Wooyoung would have to end soon.

A part of you wanted to make an excuse just to keep him next to you. Just a little while longer. But after turning to him and seeing the yawn stretching across his face, you decided against it.

Both of you stopped in front of the familiar building and met each other's eyes.

You looked down at the floor, breaking the silence. “Thank you for taking me out tonight, Woo. I had a great time with you at the concert.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled warmly. “I’m glad you did. We should do it again soon. I really enjoy spending time with you.”

You echoed his words with a nod. “I really enjoy spending time with you too!”

He smiled at the fondness in your voice. It matched the emotions in his dark eyes. He pointed in the direction of the door with his head.

“It’s late. You should probably go in before it gets cold.” He didn’t want the moment to end, but he didn’t want you getting sick on his conscience either.

“You’re right, I guess.” You looked around as if you could see the air cooling, the strange feeling only getting stronger as you spoke. “Well, goodnight!”

He laughed again as you turned around, feeling the exact same need in the pit of his stomach. “Goodnight.”

You opened the gate but hadn’t even taken two steps in when you heard the call of your name again.

“Yn, wait!” Wooyoung called nervously after you, seeming to wait for you to come closer again.

His cheeks reddened when you met his eyes. “I, uh—”

He didn’t get to finish whatever he was trying to say as he felt two lips fall clumsily on his own interrupting him. You cupped his cheeks, kissing him softly.

His superpowers didn’t warn him of this moment— the moment Wooyoung had been dreaming for months about.

You two parted after a few seconds. But it felt like something entirely new bloomed between you when your lips connected under the streetlights, the moon and stars as your only witness.

One last shy smirk graces your pretty features before you turned around once more. Your giddy yet knowing voice reached his ears for the last time that night; to him, it sounded like a melody.

“Sweet dreams, Woo!”

networks. @cromernet

notes. i loved writing wooyoung so much i wanna do it more!! but its my first official stand alone ateez fic and i am so nervous so please leave feedback! also please let me know if i got the tag list right! also credits to lilo for the listening to part of the lay out check out her works!

taglist. @yuyusuyu @bluehwale-main @seonghwaddict @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @aestheticsluut @starryunho @mrowwww @i-luvsang | send me an ask to be added to the general obey me or kpop taglist (or both ofc)

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bookish-bogwitch · 8 days

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Hello! Thank you for the tags, @blackberrysummerblog @mooncello @monbons @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @thehoneyedhufflepuff @nausikaaaand and @alexalexinii. You are wonderful!

Today I'm sharing an anxious plea for reassurance + a snippet of chapter 9 of Basil Pitch's Diary, posting June 7. Below the cut for spoilers and anxiety.

<ANXIETY> I'm working on chapter 10 now and friends, it's slow going. I still love this fic with all my heart, but chapters 1-9 I had mapped out more or less scene by scene months before I started posting, and before writing most of them. Writing them was like novelizing a movie I'd watched in my head a countless times.

For the rest of the fic, though--Ch 10-13--I had only broad strokes figured out. I knew the very ending, and a handful of key emotional beats along the way, but the connective tissue was basically "Collect Underpants ... ? ... Profit."

I've now plotted the rest out in reasonable detail, with help from the extremely kind and insightful @facewithoutheart and @thewholelemon. But I am a plotter to the core and it feels much scarier to be writing a story I just made / am still making up than one that's been living in my head for years.

Also, you guys: Chapter 9 is really fucking good. I'm really proud of it and excited to share it. And also scared that the rest of the fic won't live up to the promise of all I've set up. This fic is my baby and I just really want to nail it.

Intellectually I know I'm just swinging on the creative-confidence pendulum, and that future me will be able to write as well as past me. These doubts are just intrusive thoughts, skittering around my head like the mice that live in my walls. Harmless, but such a nuisance. </ANXIETY>

Anyway! Here are some sentences of Chapter 9, which, did I mention, is really good. Baz is finally going dancing with DeNiall.

“So, cousin. What’s your strategy?” I just raised an eyebrow and gestured at myself. My shirt was a perfectly cut navy so sheer that it read as cobalt over my pale skin. Climbing my chest were embroidered red and pink roses, between which you could clearly see my nipples. I’d changed out of Oxford cloth at Fiona’s. (I didn’t tell her I’d stopped in Blackfriars to drop off my grandmother’s furs and my grandfather’s Dickens.) Through my sleeve you could also see my mother’s wand holster, which my father now insists I wear whenever I leave the house. He’s also looking for a second dog. Something more territorial than Rusty, whose lick is worse than his bite. After the numpties he spent a week teaching me defensive spells. His skill surprised me, though it shouldn’t have. Once, when I was small, someone tried to mug him as we were leaving a theatre. My father didn’t panic or capitulate, just calmly kneecapped the man with a vicious Why me, why now.

Tagging @angelsfalling16 @brilla-brilla-estrellita @palimpsessed @cutestkilla

@comesitintheclover @confused-bi-queer @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @drowninginships @dragoneggos

@emeryhall @ebbpettier @aristocratic-otter @hushed-chorus @youarenevertooold

@ic3-que3n @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95

@katatsumuli @valeffelees @martsonmars @whogaveyoupermission @whatevertheweather

@messofthejess @nightimedreamersworld @alleycat0306 @raenestee @wetheformidables

@onepintobean @run-for-chamo-miles @skeedelvee @alleycat0306 @iamamythologicalcreature

@twokisses @shrekgogurt

#wip wednesday #my writing #basil pitch's diary #baz pitch #imposter syndrome #me being scared #malcolm being hot #america's sweetheart nancy kerrigan

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i-smoke-chapstick · 3 months

Note

can you write gotham ozzie x reader?? like, their first time together and all; smut obviously, but with kinda feelings (we respect our emotional short king)

‘OFF TO THE RACES,

-GOTHAM!OSWALD COBBLEPOT X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Oswald embraces his rather crude interests.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!oswald x female reader. SMUT! (with feelings) PORN WITH (some) PLOT! I can’t stop writing oswald smut fics to lana del rey songs. Oswald being soft,,,and a bit rough. He’s a gangster, after all.

♫ “My old man is a bad man, but I can't deny the way he holds my hand / You are my one true love” Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey

You stare at him from across the table. God, you love this place, and you know he does too. His luxurious mansion and a banquet full of food parallel to you.

It feels like home to you two. And he’s been riding on a high ever since the both of you aknowledged your feelings. He still remembers it like yesterday- the way your eyes lit up. The way this feeling of sheer adoration, love, admiration; was reciprocated.

But somethings different tonight. You can’t quite place it. He’s at least eight feet away from you, fidgeting with his cain like how he did before you admitted your feelings to eachother. He’s stuck in his own head, and a blush dusts his perfect freckled face. He refuses to meet your gaze, and in his other hand, he lazily stirs a glass of brandy in his palm. Every now and then, you catch him looking into the swirls of the glass.

It surprised you, how much he drinks when somethings on his mind. Not to mention, he typically didn’t ask you to dinner like this. No, not now that the two of you were dating. This type of behavior was reserved for those flustered days beforehand- not now.

Your almost scared he’s going to break up with you. Let you go. Do something rash. Does he think you betrayed him or something…?

You tap your fingers along the side of the table. The food infront of you has gone uneaten, both of you anxious.

Finally, his blue-green eyes look up- and he clears his throat. He looks at you through dazed, hooded eyes. He’s obviously a bit tipsy from his drink, but not over confident. You almost jump at the sound of him. You cross your fingers and pray for the best.

He stares at you and his eyes narrow, feigning confidence. But in a way, his lip quivers, betraying how nervous he is to speak.

“Y/N. A man comes to a crossroads in his life, and he has to make a choice. Does he choose safety and cowardice, or…does he opt for courage, and risk everything?”

You take a beat as you follow his words. It almost sounds rehearsed. Just what the hell was he saying?

You can audibly hear him swallow.

“A man, ahem, also has…needs. So to speak.” He clears his throat again. “I choose courage. What I’m trying to say is-“ He sucks his teeth, almost rolling his eyes at himself. “The thing I’ve been wanting to ask you all day long is…”

His voice gets caught in his throat like a fish out of water. He continues to stare at you incredulously, almost horrified with himself for not being able to speak. You go to prompt him- before the dots connect in your head. The crimson blush on his cheeks. The fidgeting.

A man has needs.

You let out a loud bark of laughter, interrupting his crestfallen scilence. He immediately looks even more terrified, mouth opening and closing in surprise at your outburst.

“Y/N!” He tries to reprimand you, but it wavers. He’s flustered beyond belief, sure he’s made a fool of himself. “Why are you laughing?!” He weakly demands, a clear expression of dread on his beautiful face.

Through soft chuckles, your laugh dies down. “Are you asking to sleep with me, Oz?”

He’s rendered slack-jawed at the bluntness of your response. He immediately goes to defend himself, as to not sound offensive or vulgar.

“What?!? No-“ He quickly denies, before catching his breath and closing his eyes in a huff. “Yes.” He says quietly through gritted teeth.

It makes you chuckle again, and if his pale skin could get any redder it would. He glares at you now, obviously feeling a bit rejected.

“Okay, well you don’t have to laugh!” He squawks. The grip on his drink is so tight you can see his knuckles go white.

You realize that laughing might not have been the best idea. But you can’t help it. The man set up a dinner to ask his own girlfriend to sleep with him. It’s…sweet. Very gentlemanly. You flash him a smile.

“No, Oz. Trust me, I want to. It’s just…we are together now. You don’t have to ask me to dinner like you’re courting me in the 1800s. If you want to have sex, just say so.”

He’s stunned into scilence, obviously still a bit embarassed. He wants to explain himself. That he isn’t used to this. That he doesn’t want to offend you. He doesn’t want to lose you.

You realize you might have to make all the first moves for now. You quickly stand up from your seat at the table, and he watches your every move like a hawk.

“What are you-“ He goes to ask- before you stand over him. You offer him your hand, and nod.

“Bedroom.” You lower your voice to a whisper. Through utterly confused and stunned brows, he stares at you, before standing up in a hurry. He smooths his suit jacket down and spins his cane in his hand; quickly following you in a hurry out the dining room.

It started painfully slow, his hands messily stripping you of your clothes. His nose bumped into yours while the two of you kissed, his teeth clashing against you in a desperate and needy attempt to be closer. But you knew- every moment and kiss and too gentle peck placed against your skin was all out of love.

He got hard almost embarrassingly fast, and he knew it. But how could he help himself? The woman he loved was about to open her legs for him. You two were going to become one. What could be more fitting for his one true love? The amount of pleasure the act could bring you both had been on his mind for days. But he couldn’t necessarily just…ask for it. For one, it was embarrassing. And two, he’s fairly inexpirenced. That much he was sure everyone could see.

His lips ghosted over every inch of your skin, kissing you like his life depended on it. He worshipped you, eyes widening when you laid bare before him. He took in the sight, mouth agape as he stared intently at every curve of your body. You shuffled needily under his gaze, and felt his cool hand trace a long stripe down your chest to your slit.

You gasped when he inserted a finger suddenly. Without giving you time to adjust, he musters a pitiful “I’m sorry,” in a whisper. Oh, you can see right through him. He’s not sorry at all. He’s been waiting for this on the edge of his seat for the past week, you’re sure. And you’re happy to give it to him. Especially when his hand reaches a spot inside of you that makes you mewl underneath him.

The sound of your wet slick fills the room. You can tell he’s smiling at the sound, confidence finally spurring him on.

He hums at you underneath him, and quickly undoes his trousers in a much less elegant fashion than he had undressed you. No, now all of his moments are hard and fast. He keeps his suit jacket on, keeping himself clothed. You don’t see his cock, but you feel it peirce you in a swift movement.

The both of you let out an embarrassingly loud moan at this. You pray Olga is in a room much farther away.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, soft grunts following as he thrusts slowwwww. You thread your hands in his hair and trace the light muscles in his back, and you hear him panting. He’s already getting close.

Only a few more seconds pass, before his whole body stills- and you know he’s cumming inside you. He becomes rigid in your hold, his hands grasping at the sheets and your body hard. You let out a yelp at the bruising grip, and feel his load in between your thighs as he slips out of you.

He lets out another series of “I’m sorry”’s, and these are much more genuine. He can’t bare to look at you, finishing so quickly. But you felt so good. So tight. And he hasn’t done… this in a long time.

You gently shush him, and feel him press soft ghosts of kisses to your head. Oh, he’s embarrassed. Let him catch his breath.

A few more moments pass and he’s lifting himself up on his elbows, looking down at you.

Your confused as to why he’s staring until he enters you again.

He places his forehead against your own, eyes closing. He gasps, sweat tainting his brow. You let out a loud moan at the feeling of being stretched out again- you know this must hurt for him. He must be overstimulated beyond belief. Not to mention how quickly he got hard again.

…But you think a part of him loves this. The feeling of his partner clenching around him, the feeling of the walls of your cunt grasping onto his cock. It makes him feel needed. The joining of your bodies and minds. After this, he is yours for eternity; like a dog on a leash. Just as you are his.

Prepare yourself, this is just the begginning. He intends to stay up all night claiming you like this, for many more nights to come.

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voxofthevoid · 4 months

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Ch 248 is once again a mixed bag for me. On the bright side, it has a development I've been looking forward to the most since Sukuna left Yuuji's body—Sukuna acknowledging the effect Yuuji has on him. Until now, he's mocked and belittled Yuuji, deeming him weak and boring, except that the specific brand of vitriol Sukuna reserves for Yuuji has made it very clear that his beef with Yuuji is a lot more personal than his conflict with any other character. There's a pettiness there, a kind of irritation that's borderline childish, that wouldn't be present if Yuuji didn't well and truly get under his skin.

So to see Sukuna take a moment in the middle of battle, complete with arms on his hips and a goddamn pout, to reassess himself, his ideology, and his enemies and their goals, all to figure out why Yuuji irritates him and then to see him conclude that it's because Yuuji has indomitable will that he can't stomp down? It's sweet, sweet vindication. Sukuna's immediate resolution to tear that will down with, again, a kind of personal vendetta we rarely see from him marks the exact kind of fight I want out of Yuuji vs. Sukuna.

And Yuuji himself has been a sight to behold despite his relatively fewer scenes so far, from his final moments with Higuruma to the reveal that he can use RCT. His greatest strengths so far have been how quickly he grasps CE usage and now attuned he is to his body. The two combined is what's made him so lethal despite the lack of a CT or even advanced techniques like simple domain. RCT fits quite neatly with the kind of power progression he's shown so far, and combined with his natural durability and sheer resilience, it'll make him even more of a monster.

These are elements I'm very happy with. However, this chapter confirms Kenjaku's end and sets up Sukuna as the final villain, and that's... underwhelming at best. I'm not complaining that Sukuna isn't a particularly complicated villain; it's refreshing and suits how he's presented himself from the beginning. But part of what compensated for one villain being like that was the other being a mad scientist with a pretty cunning mind who kept plotting and planning with every tool in their arsenal. You could trust Kenjaku to keep things interesting while they sought the chaos they dearly wanted, and even the merger coming from them would've had certain meaningful implications because not only is it a dream they strived to fulfil for centuries, but it's also a way to see them finally "let go" of Tengen after exhibiting some fascinating attachment behaviors with her. That authority passing on to Sukuna is about as impactful as Yuuta killing Kenjaku—that is, not at all.

The Yuuta+Rika vs. Sukuna fight that's currently being teased makes me wary for similar reasons. It lacks the buildup Gojou vs. Sukuna had (battle of the strongest, i.e., clash of two immense fucking egos), and another contest of raw power sounds about as appealing as watching paint dry right now. Maybe it'll surprise me, but I'm not holding my breath.

To compare this to Shibuya, the emotional component that made its climax so compelling is almost entirely missing from this fight. It's there in Yuuji facing off against someone who took Megumi and Gojou from him, like how he fought the curse that took Nanami and Nobara from him, but overall, the deaths feel hollow and the stakes are so impossibly high that they start to feel like nothing at all.

I can't even fully capture what I'm feeling. It's not that I'm not looking forward to the upcoming chapters; I am. It's not even that I think the plot and climax are unsalvageable; they are, to an extent. But by this point, the plot fumblings and wasted potential have added up to a looming shadow I can't ignore even when there are parts I'm genuinely excited about.

#jjk 248 #jjk leaks #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #itadori yuuji

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wen-kexing-apologist · 5 months

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Kiss-eki: Dear to Me

*Kicks open door*

SURPRISE BITCHES! I am several days late and hundreds of dollars short, but I did finally *finally* decide to watch Kiseki: Dear to Me in an attempt to add one more show to the Completed Watchlist for 2023. This was a show I was planning on watching a bit earlier, probably closer to the time it was actually airing, because I'd heard it was ridiculous and thought it would be a good show to have on in the background during work. But @ginnymoonbeam had my best interests at heart and told me that I Absolutely Could Not Do That because There Was Body Language Dammit!

If I have not made it clear, THANK YOU FOR SAVING ME, GINNY!

Kiseki was absolutely wild and completely insane if you try to describe a single aspect of the plot whatsoever, but I would have given it a ten off sheer entertainment value if it wasn't for those back to back fake outs with Chen Yi being shot and Fan Ze Riyu being stabbed. But, I digress. I have only seen three things from Taiwan at this point, but those three shows have provided quite a lot of evidence to the claim that Taiwan is nearly unparalleled in their ability to portray domesticity and physical chemistry. I have also heard that Taiwan has a tendency to create content on more taboo subjects, and Kiseki was my first forray in to that side of Taiwan considering Ai Di and Chen Yi are brothers and Bai Zong Yi is a minor when he starts his relationship with Fan Ze Riu. I think both of these subjects were very smartly handled in their set up and their structure. I normally hate the like, adoptive siblings falling in love thing, cause like...that's your sibling, but they don't give us a lot if any flashback to these boys growing up together, and they don't share last names, or really call their adoptive father Dad, so there are quite a number of abstractions in that dynamic that means this is the first time I didn't have a squick about it. And having Fan Ze Riu trying so desperately not to succumb to his feelings for Bai Zong Yi and to put that distance between them, to have Bai Zong Yi be living alone and also be 17 so he's pretty close to legal age, and then to have Bai Zong Yi be the pursuer in their relationship both serve extremely well in making that relationship feel responsibly handled.

I have not been in the tags, so forgive me if this has already been done, but I have not stopped thinking about the first kiss between Ai Di and Chen Yi or the first kiss between Bai Zong Yi and Fan Ze Riu since I saw them and I simply *must* do a scene/body language breakdown about both of them. God, it's good to be back!

[side note: I was going to split this up with funny titles like Cat Boy and Mr. Sulky, but I realized that actually could apply to both couples...]

Ai Di and Chen Yi

Okay FIRST OF ALL, I just want to say that I love Ai Di, I love how ruthless and blood thirsty he is and how incredibly dangerous and scary he could be...if he wasn't so easy to pick up and carry around like a football, or like...a feral, hissing kitten. I am going to focus mostly on the first kiss that Chen Yi initiates with Ai Di because holy shit was there so much complex emotion and reaction packed in to that pretty small moment, but before I do that I am contractually obligated to acknowledge how fucking brilliant it is to show how much/how well Ai Di and Chen Yi know each other, by having Ai Di torture Chen Yi for information by threatening to feed Chen Yi incredibly spicy baby corn AND TO HAVE THAT TACTIC WORK. And to show how much Chen Yi tolerates by having him easily get out of the restraints and tie Ai Di up when he gets bored. Fucking incredible character choice to show how absolutely batshit Ai Di is, fucking incredible relationship choice to show how well Ai Di knows Chen Yi, and fucking incredible choice to use for a call back later. Also, fuck this show for that birthday cake scene! Brutal.

Okay. That said:

You know Ai Di has not for one second stopped loving Chen Yi, and now he is being met with some actual interest from Chen Yi. Chen Yi is full reciprocating what Ai Di has wanted for so long and if this were a typical BL with more simplestic characterization, we would have gotten the moment where Ai Di just melts in to it, fully lets himself have it. Accepts that Chen Yi has woken up, gotten with the program, and is ready to be in a relationship with him. And to be honest, that is what I was expecting. Ai Di has been such a loud and obvious simp for Chen Yi that I thought for a moment he would be the kind of person to let himself have it. To not question it too hard, especially because he is young and impulsive. So imagine my surprise when I got this reaction from him instead:

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Ai Di likes to challenge, likes to push buttons, likes to press. And he starts this scene doing just that. He is on his way to tucking Chen Yi in to bed (folding the edge of the bed spread over him because Chen Yi is drunk off his ass and too heavy for Ai Di to manhandle under the covers. But the second that Chen Yi starts simping over his Boss again, Ai Di stops performing any level of care for Chen Yi, and you can see this little change in his face where he gets annoyed and actually undoes his little moment of care and pulls the bedspread back off of Chen Yi and then he postures and he’s trying to act tough, and he’s needling intentionally, and all of these things where he is trying to be antagonistic to Chen Yi because that is the only way that Ai Di really knows how to express his emotions and he’s butt hurt about Chen Yi once against obsessing over someone Ai Di knows he can’t have when he is right there.

Now, Ai Di gets manhandled a lot by Chen Yi and while he isn’t able to break out of it, he does very often struggle/fight back to get out of Chen Yi’s grip when he’s been baby carried away from a scene like a sack of potatoes. Which is why I do think Ai Di is giving in to his own feelings a bit here because he…doesn’t do that. He lets Chen Yi pull him closer, he lets Chen Yi push him up against the wall. And he’s still needling but it’s all bark, no bite. When he starts calling Chen Yi impotent his face softens looking up at him.

And then Chen Yi goes in for the kiss and Ai Di’s eyes go wide, you can see an entire internal monologue running through his head. I am fairly confident there are some what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck’s going through his head when Chen Yi first kisses him.

gif by @khaotungsfirst

There is a moment, just a moment so quick where Ai Di kisses back, where his heart gets the better of his judgment and he lets himself *have it* for *just* a second, and then his brain snaps back almost immediately and he bites Chen Yi and pushes him away.

And honestly, I do not understand how actors work, because Ai Di’s face twitches. How the fuck does Louis do that?! He’s out of breath, and his mouth is agape, and he looks horrified, and heartbroken, and confused, but maybe a little hopeful. Like he won’t let himself believe that Chen Yi would actually do this. Like he is thinking Chen Yi is doing this out of pity, or just to shut him up, or mess with him. Because Ai Di messes with Chen Yi all the time. This is what Ai Di wants. He wants Chen Yi, but now that he is face to face with the possibility he does not have the ability to believe in it.

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

And in a very rare occurrence he listens to Chen Yi when Chen Yi tells him to get out of his room. The gears are definitely turning, but he simply cannot believe it, and it is so fascinating to me thinking about all these little microexpressive moments we get from Ai Di later on in the show that he really does not believe that Chen Yi kissing him in Episode 6 was Chen Yi actually admitting feelings, because every time that Ai Di tries something like torturing Chen Yi with spicy baby corn, or flirting to try to get Chen Yi to be uncomfortable or to back off, he reacts with genuine confusion when Chen Yi flirts back.

Case in point:

gif by @25shadesoffebruary

gif by @shijiujun

Bai Zong Yi and Fan Ze Riu First Kiss

It’s really interesting for me to compare this kiss to the Ai Di and Chen Yi kiss because they feel like completely mirrored (read: reversed) reactions. Where Ai Di leans in to his kiss for a moment for a moment and then forces himself to push away, preventing further intimacy, Fan Ze Rui forces himself to push away for a moment and then leans in to it, allowing the intimacy to proceed.

gif by @alejunsu

The set up is incredible, and in my opinion, foreshadows the fake amnesia plot in that Ze Rui is absolutely laser focused on his task (treating Zong Yi’s wounds) and intentionally ignoring everything else because he knows that it is irresponsible for him to initiate a relationship with a seventeen year old. Zong Yi is the first to lean in and go for a kiss, and he lingers at a distance that is respectful but with obvious intent for as long as it takes Ze Rui to look up and notice. There is a split second where Ze Rui’s eyes flit down to Zong Yi’s lips, and then he puts himself right back on task. Zong Yi is not to be dissuaded and goes in for the kiss again. Ze Rui notices, and grabs at Zong Yi’s shoulder to stop him, furrowing his brow in what I would consider confusion and focus, but once again his eyes betray him and he looks back at Zong Yi’s lips. This time without looking away, so Zong Yi continues, leaning in slowly and Ze Rui is drawn in at this point, he is frozen there, he isn’t trying to disengage from the inevitable anymore, unable to rebel against his own desire.

gif by @alejunsu

Their lips meet, and to me it looks like Ze Rui is shocked, like his brain has short circuited and he doesn’t know where to go from here. It’s like his body is just reacting and reacting before his brain can catch up with the responsibility. He kisses back before his brain has really processed what is happening, and then he knows he shouldn’t be doing this so he tries to push away in the most half-hearteded attempt to be responsible, and a second later he’s abandoned the effort and started engaging more enthusiastically in the kiss.

I do not fucking know how Hsu Kai does it because I swear to god Fan Riyu was cycling through about a hundred different emotions in this one moment and they were all acting against his physical reaction to the kiss. The way his arm goes out to Bai Zong Yi's shoulder to try to keep physical distance between the two of them, while he is having a full out internal war with himself? Holy fucking shit. It’s really like his brain is going “is this actually happening? Shit yes it is I have to- fuck it”

gif by @maxescheibechlinichacheli

And at the start of his active participation in the kiss he is still not letting himself have it. I think he is still stuck on the fact that he shouldn’t be doing this, and as a result he pushes Zong Yi back so he can see his face, study it. All it takes is for Bai Zong Yi to go back in yet again to continue their kiss, and then it’s all over for Fan Ze Rui. He’s all in. His hand goes to Zong Yi’s face, to his neck, and before we know it he is pulling himself in to Zong Yi’s lap from the floor so smoothly.

Reunion Sex

I initially was only going to focus on the Ep 6 Ai Di x Chen Yi and the Episode 7 Zong Yi x Ze Rui moments in this post, but I am so in love with the structure of the reunion sex scene that I absolutely had to talk about it.

Again, I do not understand how actors work because Hsu Kai just knocks it out of the motherfucking park. I love that when Fan Ze Rui rouses from sleep and starts muttering under his breath and engagin with Zong Yi, you don’t need any visual confirmation from the story whatsoever to understand that Ze Rui definitely has actual dreams of reuniting with Bai Zong Yi. And you don’t need that additional confirmation because of how Hsu Kai sells the talking in his sleep moment here when he’s riding on the pills and alcohol.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

He blinks through heavy lids and reaches out toward Zong Yi instantly, his smile is absent and dreamy, and unrestrained in a way that genuinely impresses me because I feel like it is hard to pull off acting the kind of drowsy you are when you’re still trapped in the limbo between wake and sleep when you’re not actually experiencing it. Ze Rui’s touches are unrestrained, his eyes are barely opened under their own weight, and he’s loose and droopy still when Bai Zong Yi lifts him in to the hug. Ze Rui’s bones look heavy and his muscles look loose, and he’s not really able to maintain his own structure as a result. Settling back flat pretty quickly have Zong Yi has released him from his embrace.

And then the light changes and the setting gets dreamier despite the fact that Ze Riu is actually starting to wake up, being reminded this is real, Zong Yi is real with grounded touches that we see in close up. And I am so sad we don’t get to see Ze Rui’s face at the exact moment of the scene when it clicks for him that this is real, because it happens during the close up of the hands (which I am also fine with :D). But when we pull back out into the wider shot, Ze Rui is already sobbing against Bai Zong Yi’s cheek. And Ze Rui tries his damndest to be his normal jokey, smiley self once he knows what is happening is real, because that’s who Zong Yi loves, and that’s who Zong Yi deserves after all the pain he’s suffered for Ze Rui but instead he just…breaks. Y’all I lost it at the way all the strength just falls away from Ze Rui’s voice when he says “kiddo”. How small he sounds when he says he’s sorry. The meekness in his voice during his own apology speaks volumes for how important it is, how much weight it carries. Because Ze Rui knows what happened to Zong Yi over the past four years. He knows all of it. He knows that Zong Yi went to prison to protect him, he knows that Zong Yi got attacked there, he knows that Zong Yi has memory problems now because of it.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

He has all of this guilt that is driving the way he interacts with Bai Zong Yi in their interlude here. By the way: “It’s been 1,573 days. Did it hurt?” is joining my list of Incredibly Devastating Lines. And it’s not just because of the line itself, it’s not just because of the way Bai Zong Yi shakes his head no. It’s especially devastating to me because right before Ze Rui asks the question, he slides his hand up to the back of Bai Zong Yi’s head and massages it a little bit with his thumb, like he’s trying to rub at an ache in hopes of getting rid of the pain. It is in no way the focus of the scene, and the action is mostly cut off and regailed to the edge of the screen, but jesus fucking christ it did wonders for me in terms of selling the scene.

Anyway, Ginny was right, the body language was incredible, and I’m glad I didn’t watch this live or else I’d have gotten zero sleep writing essays every day of the week about some of these scenes

#kiseki #kiseki: dear to me #ai di x chen yi #zong yi x ze rui #taiwanese bl #wka long post

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daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 3 months

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KICTTC 5

I'm BACK helloooo! Oh my goodness friends! I have so much to tell you all! So I kinda was collar grabbed by this story so my edit of chapter 4 is SO different from what I posted here, SOOOOO I'm posting a bit of the edited Ch4 so no one misses out on plot! ahhh I've been so excited to share this all with you!!!! Transference chapter 3 is in the works as well as a secret WIP! I really wanna focus of my first two stories though so Idk when that will be up or what an update schedule might look like.

Anyways the Angst is strong, the trauma and body horror is as strong as the blasphemous tea I brew, read at your own leisure I aint yo mama lol

Stay safe, give yourself grace, take your meds, get some sun, burrow in a blanket nest, drink water and eat a snack lovelies!

~Ren

Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now.

Dick sips his cup of coffee only to look at it betrayed when it’s bitter and cold. He has been in Bruce’s study watching the live feed of the recovery room for hours. He managed to drag himself to bed when Alfred had insisted but his dreams had been plagued with Danyal trembling on the floor, knife hilt deep in his small neck, the sight of them in the doorway had made him panic and then he was bleeding out, his breath gurgling in his throat as he died. It was an awful way to wake up and he couldn’t even go check on Danyal in person! Damian had cashed in a lot of the blackmail he’s kept on them to keep them away. While Dick was proud of his little brother’s emotional growth, seeing their youngest in person would go a long way for Dick to shake off his nightmare. He is a bat though so he will endure, especially because this involves his family, his brothers.

As the sun started dipping below the horizon behind the curtains Tim walked into the study with two large cups filled to the top with coffee, one with a ton of sugar and cream the other plain black coffee, “Awe Timmy! You brought me coffee!” Dick snatches the plain one up with a smirk.

Tim just grumbles at his grabby hands and relinquishes the cup. He shuffles over to the couch and pulls out his laptop to work on something- Dick isn’t sure where Tim had managed to safely carry the computer with two fresh coffees- and promptly ignores the others as they file in the next ten or so minutes. Judging by the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, sleep was hard to come by.

Bruce is slumped into his chair watching the twins. No one breaks the silence. Dick eyes Jason from where his brother has propped himself against the wall out of the way Their father’s shoulders are tense in anger. So Talia is probably giving him the slip. He can’t help but feel resentment for the woman who keeps secrets that hurt his family. She knows that people don’t always stay dead. When Jason died, the only reason Dick had to face it, recognize that his little brother was dead was because they had his body as sure proof he had been murdered. Dick has seen many times how Bruce grieves and it’s never good. Adding in a twin? Bruce is holding himself together with sheer will power and meticulous training. Bruce might be almost impossible to read but he was the first boy to be adopted. He has more Bruce experience than anyone else in the family but Alfred. He can see the cracks.

Turning back to the screen Dick lets out a little coo at the image. Damian is awake and is looking at Danyal like he’d disappear from under the blanket they share. The boy carefully extracts himself to use the restroom that’s tucked away in the corner. When he comes back onto the screen he is changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt Dick recognizes as his own. He also spots a change of clothes for Danyal in his arms, which he sets on the side table next to the bed before Damian goes around refilling the water pitcher and glass to be ready for use, setting fresh towels out.

Turning his attention to the younger boy, he can see how sickly the boy is when they’re side by side to compare. His pale skin shows off the dark veins underneath, his cheeks are caving into his face, all his baby fat eaten away, dark bruises under his eyes, and with how injured he was… it’s not telling a pretty story. Dick is confident that if Danyal hadn’t dropped out of the rafters in that warehouse they’d never know he could’ve been out there. He desperately needed help even if he hadn’t realized it yet. Bruce and Dick watch Damian crawl back into bed, Danny doesn’t wake but he does turn towards where Damian has frozen owl-eyed. An arm snags the bottom edge of Damian’s shirt and like a signal the rest of his limbs follow to entwine them together. It’s very cute. With a smirk Dick takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture. It’s unlikely to truly upset Damian since it’s probably the only picture that they have of the twins together right now, but however Damian responds when he knows the picture exists will be satisfying.

“Are we gonna get on with it or just sit in silence with our thumbs up our asses?” Jason glares, looking significantly more tense. He stares down the room while crossing his arms across his chest.

Dick sees Bruce’s shoulders square up like he’s bracing for a physical punch instead of the verbal jab. Batman has an almost obsessive need to know everything he can about a situation, it was one of his many lessons that they as his children made into muscle memory. Knowledge made carefully crafted contingency plans that kept their family safe on and off the streets. Something to hold, to have in reserve for when they need it. To be thrown so many unknowns in the shape of a brother was unsettling them all.

“Jason.” Dick throws him a disappointed look from where he stands by Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder to diffuse the argument that would shortly explode. “Danyal hasn’t been conscious, he hasn’t had the chance to explain anything yet, has he?” He raises his eyebrow at his brother. The family might not always reach an agreement on, well most things, but Dick knows his younger brother cares. He does. He won’t admit it but he’s here. Red Hood sticks to Crime Alley, looking after his people and- though he won’t claim them- his kids. One glance at Danyal’s wounded, still form was all it took to gain his loyalty. Red Hood liked to take his aggression out on those who disrespect his claim. Jason’s impulse to run off and hunt the monsters who could harm a child this way was poorly hidden. Dick understood the feeling so he didn’t push further.

Jason sneered at his words but didn’t bite back, just turned his impatient gaze towards Tim. “I’m sure Tim has been doing more digging than sleeping.”

Bruce inhales sharply drawing all of their attention. He’s looking at the monitor, hitting the unmute, Damian’s voice floods the room. “I simply meant you only have to tell me what has happened since we were separated… Once, here. I-We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had made the grave mistake of harming you. The family, while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.”

Damian’s description brought a small smile to Dick’s face. Danyal’s quiet reply dimmed the edges because he sounded so young.

The whole group shifted and was laser focused on their new family member. Dick can’t think of any way to describe this whole situation as wrong as he took in what he could see.. It had nothing to do with Danny himself, or maybe it was more accurate to say whatever made his newly claimed baby brother look like that was what was firing off all his finely honed warning bells. A glance around at the others makes it clear they’re all, for once, on the same page.

If Bruce’s glare could kill the poor monitor would’ve been smoking at this point. Danyal was clearly at the end of his rope. Dick will admit as much as it irks him Damian was right to sequester the recovery room and keep Danyal in a calm area. They watch in horror as Danyal starts to speak. He was hesitant and nervous at first but slowly gained confidence when Damian didn’t react adversely.

The rest of them didn’t have to restrain themselves.

“What the actual fuck?” That’s Tim’s angry voice, Dick shutters. He sounds like he’s already started on researching his shit list by the furious tapping that comes from the couch. Drs Fenton, the Ghost Investigation Ward, and Vlad Masters can’t possibly know what is coming for them. Dick isn’t sure whether to step in when Jason sinks down into the couch next to their younger brother and they immediately start whispering between themselves.

He decides after a long look at the twins murmuring to each other that he would rather check on Bruce. “B?”

The man that stands firm against Gotham’s most unsavory rogues, looks back at him lost. His eyes get drawn back to his sons on the screen, “He’s so small Dick. I-” It’s rare Bruce breaks in composure and Dick’s chest squeezes. His father looks haunted.

“We’re here for him now, B.” He says gently. There are no words he could say that can erase what is already done.

They listen to Tim and Jason in the background while watching Damian help Danyal get out of bed. Once on his feet Danyal waves his twin away. He’s weak and shaky but they breathe a bit easier when his legs don’t give out underneath his body weight. The short walk to the bathroom door seemed to have winded him. Danyal reaches for the wall and presses into it while he pauses. And pauses.

Damian hasn’t rushed to his side so Dick tries not to panic. He probably needs a moment to gather himself. “Do you think we need to send Alfred down?” He asks Bruce.

“What?” Tim and Jason both looked up at him in tandem.

“Danyal! He was- well he is- fine. But look! He’s all hunched like he can’t breathe right? Why is Damian just watching?” Dick frets wringing his hands.

Attention diverted from their plans of destruction the two leave the couch and crowd around Bruce’s desk.

“Oh fuck!” Tim curses, roughly rolling Bruce’s chair away from the keyboard. “I don’t know how they did it but I think the feed was paused, or spliced or looped. I’m trying to override it- Ah! I got it!”

The feed clears and they all blink at the empty room. The bathroom door is open and Danyal’s things that were by the door are gone.

Bruce jumps out of his chair. “What were they doing right before?”

Tim pulls up the saved file and finds the moments right before the glitch. “They’re hugging?” A few lines of code and Tim has the background volume boosted. A hushed conversation in Arabic reaches their ears.

“Okay Danyal, I understand and will help you,” Damian studies his brother for a moment, “how can I help you best in this moment Danyal, what is it you want.”

They watch Danyal look around at the room, fear leaking in now that he’s not focused on the boy with him. “I can’t be here. I won’t heal.”

Bruce flinches like Danyal had hit him.

They embraced, and whatever else was said was too muffled to pick up.

They watch entranced, like a bruise you can’t help but press on, as the scene plays out and ends with Danyal leaning against the wall.

“They can’t have gotten far, the demon brat wouldn’t risk hurting his precious twin, Dickie-Bird and I can fetch the chicks that flew the nest.” Jason sighs.

Bruce’s phone rings and they all look at it with reluctance. That’s Oracle’s ringtone so it’s important. Dick swipes the device and answers with a quick, “O, we’ve got a situation, please tell me this is important.”

“Yeah it is,” Barbra agrees, “if you guys were gonna patrol why wasn’t I looped in, huh?”

Dick exchanges a confused look with the others. “Uh no, O, we agreed no patrol tonight, Black Bat, Signal, and Spoiler were our covers.”

“Then why is the Batmobile headed towards the edge of town?”

They, with years of experience fighting side by side, spring in sync for the hidden entrance and pile into the elevator to the cave to change and to track down their brothers.

~~~~~~~

Gotham was unusually muggy this evening. Bruce could feel the sweat drip down his scalp and his suit was already damp. Breath blazed through his lungs yet brought him no warmth. He had to suppress his instinct to shiver. Fear was all he could feel. It was bone chillingly familiar. Nothing like Scarecrow’s toxin yet he was still sinking deeper into glacier littered water. As Batman, Bruce has taken many hits, faced the cruel underbelly of Gotham from the shadows and had said enough. Birthed from vengeance and relentlessly courting justice, he gets back up, keeps moving, doesn’t stay down even when he probably should. No one else had managed to stand against the city’s rogues. Every night he embraces their seething rage that blistered the streets and exploded buildings. Batman turns towards danger, not away. He is the shield that protects his city's people from the impact the best he can. It’s never enough. Batman has flung himself head first into a race that had long since started.

In the rare hours he is alone surrounded by the soft glow of the Batcomputer and the quiet rustling of sleeping bats he can admit, those first years, he had enjoyed the vicious fights. Tangoing with death each night. He was entranced, he would dance until the curtain dropped. It was a destructive cycle he couldn’t escape. As he’s aged his compulsion to run off has cooled, and it was only after the first time Dick got more than just a few bruises did he realize the true cost. Even if he couldn’t stop them, perhaps he should’ve tried harder to work with his children to ensure their safety. A family of vigilantes was a double edged blade. His curse to bear. The curse he spread. Every night his heart is split into pieces and goes with them as they stalk their prey from within the shadows. His children amaze terrify him in how they’ve all risen to fight back the miasma that threatens to swallow Gotham whole.

He doesn’t know Danyal, has never learned what his favorite breakfast is or seen him off to school. They have never shared late night training sessions. His youngest has never fallen asleep sequestered away in his own world working on a case and for Bruce to find him and tuck him into bed like he has with all of his children at least once. No. He was never given a chance. Danyal’s existence was hidden from him. His death was a secret Damian was manipulated into thinking he had to carry the weight alone. And people believed Batman to be some sort of legendary detective. If Bruce was less controlled he might scoff at the thought. He missed things, big and small, all the time. Most often it was his children that were affected by his carelessness, his lack of understanding.

He knows what it is to lose a son. In death and because of his own parental ineptitude. Bruce knows what it is for his world to spin out from under his feet and to let his rage blindly guide him. Bruce risks a glance at Jason, his walking, talking, breathing miracle. Why couldn’t he just say that to the person who needed to hear it. Jason had died, it was awful, truly awful. As an adult he has never felt so lost. Jason was only a child. A brilliant, bright, life snuffed out in the cruelest way only for some universal hiccup to thrust his soul back into body and for Talia to pick him up. They’ve never talked about the Y-incision that spans his entire torso. Jason hadn’t intended for him to see it. Bruce doesn’t know who is responsible. He doesn’t know if they dare breathe another breath on Earth. He’s afraid to ask. He’s afraid of what he’ll do if they aren’t already dead. No, the only thing he knew about it was what Jason had deliriously shared with him while sick with whooping cough. The cut may have happened but that was as far as they got. His ribs remained intact, his organs undisturbed. Bruce has to trust Jason told him the truth. Bruce hadn’t had the strength to imagine alternatives.

He has no choice now. Whatever Danyal’s journey has been, wherever he’s been. Bruce despairs that his youngest’s life journey has been too similar to Jason’s. Danny had listed off to Damian the multitude of injuries he had and Bruce just knew. Two of his sons have been dehumanized, valued as objects for other’s use, to state their curiosity. His youngest didn’t just get cut into, as despicable as that already was, no, he was awake, aware, alive as some sick fuck rooted around behind his ribs. (Half-alive. His gut rolls at the implications yet it brings none of his usual suspicions to draw his attention to what his son was hiding. Only he wasn’t hiding, not from the Wayne family. No, he had shared everything with very little prompting from Damian. Danyal was running from them) Bruce could only stare at the screen in his office in horror. How fast did his regenerative ability work to regrow his harvested organs? Did he have to break wrongly healed bones and had to hold them in place until they healed enough for him to escape or did his bones snap forcefully into place on their own-

It’s a race against time now. Danyal is in no condition to be on the run. It would crush him to send him away but Bruce would. He can find a secure place away from him for his son if that’s what it took to make him feel safe enough to rest. Recovery needs to be his number one priority, he had been slowly relaxing with Damian yet as soon as he wasn’t disoriented he fled. What does that say about how he thinks they’ll treat him? What does it say about Bruce that Damain felt he could better protect his twin alone?

Bruce forces himself to reach for his comms and connects to the main comm line they use for patrols. “Everyone, change of plans, keep your eyes open for both boys. They fled from the cave in the Batmobile, hail the line immediately if they’re sighted, I don’t expect Robin to linger once it stops.” Bruce internally curses at himself that he didn’t think to have some sort of code for his youngest. He’s known for creating contingency plans for his contingency plans, yet he is not prepared for this. He could’ve never prepared himself for the knowledge he had not one blood son but two, twins. He couldn’t be too revealing incase someone was listening. “We’re in pursuit of the Batmobile now. Remember the boys are both League trained, Robin likely will have some tricks he’ll play.. The boy’s full capabilities are still unknown and he is heavily injured, proceed with caution, the boy is likely running on instinct, resistance is expected. We want to avoid making them feel cornered.” His tone is tight with worry, He doesn’t blame Danyal for being suspicious. He may be their father, but as far as he knows it wouldn’t be safe. Well, Bruce can’t blame either of them, they’re children, his children. He will blame their mother though. “We want them to get them home safe with no further injuries.”

Some very distant part of him is proud of Damian for unequivocally having his brother’s back, if only they could bond over things that didn’t shave years off his life. Bruce has never been more stressed. Some day soon he’ll just have to embrace the grey that was sprouting in his black hair and give Alfred relief from helping him hide them.

“Copy that B-man! Our eyes are peeled!” Spoiler responds “I’m currently in Burnley, Orphan’s got Somerset covered and Signal is in Old Gotham! If they’re out here we’ll find them.”

“From what Oracle sent, I think I should be able to pick something up with my powers, I’ll keep trying while we move, B.” Signal pipes in.

“Thank you Signal.” Bruce is flooded with relief. He really is lucky to have them, there’s no one else he’d rather have at his back. They’ve all grown into their own. He tries not to sigh.

Discovering the twins missing had sent them scrambling, even Jason had looked worried and tucked away his instinct to question him or to argue, his second son had simply followed them down to the cave. At this rate he may get an ulcer. He had felt panic steal his critical thinking, as he led his boys south towards where the Batmoblie was speeding away faster than they could grapple. He had to find them. Gotham isn’t safe at night and Danyal’s movements will be restricted if he deems it important not to rip his stitches.

Moving through the air usually calmed him but tonight grappling wasn’t moving him around fast enough. Taking the Batmobile was smart of his sons, he begrudgingly had to admit, not only was it faster, the boys would be hidden inside. If Robin had driven his bike he’d have superior maneuverability even though Batman could’ve followed them faster, but if the boys had impacted something during a high speed chase to flee? They’d both be thrown. Danyal is already severely injured anything additional.. Bruce couldn’t make himself focus on that.

His Trouble Twins probably planned it this way to slow them down. To throw them off their tracks. It was working, the boys had a 10 minute lead on their group. They’d left as soon as they had suited up but they still were too far out of reach. Away from the protective shadow of his cape. He couldn’t protect them now that they left the safety of the manor. Jason was cursing underneath him on the street racing past buildings on his bike, he was slightly ahead of Batman and Nightwing’s position in the air, on the bike next to him Tim was working with Barbara to try and get eyes on the boys. Quiet suggestions on what to look for. Shadows that move unnaturally, flashes of color there and gone, how they needed an algorithm up to analyze all of the feeds simultaneously. With the many cameras in Gotham-more than half Bruce had bought for the city to install- they wouldn’t be so hard to find. They shouldn't be so difficult to find, but Damian was particularly slippery when he put in the effort. Bruce glanced at his eldest besides him.

Dick was one long string pulled too tight. He, of course, was still chatting happily with Barbara but his smile was strained at the edges, his movements too careful and precise. He hasn’t joked once. The possibility the man would snap increases the longer the twins are missing. It’s rare to see Dick outwardly expressing something other than the pure sunshine and patience. By the time Jason had come around he had curbed most of his bloodlust, it was a faint memory by the time Tim weaseled his way into their lives. It reminds Bruce too much of Brucie. The persona that he developed to hide from the vultures that would’ve taken everything from him as a child when tragedy struck. Before Bruce had decided to be active in Gotham’s social scene he knew it was better they underestimate poor orphaned Bruce Wayne. Brucie hid Batman, a shield to protect his family from those who would expose their secrets. He was necessary, even if Bruce felt suffocated most of the time. Was Dick hiding from him?

He has to suppress a shutter. All his children to some degree, whether on or off the streets, have adapted to Batman’s mannerisms and habits. It was essential to survive facing the threats they do. Dick though fell more into Bruce’s habits. His eldest son, who with a smile looked after his siblings while Bruce was distracted by some crisis or another.They both often blamed themselves for things they couldn’t stop or foresee. That heavy invisible weight that sits on their shoulders because they claimed it. Bruce knows that he’s failed his children, Dick.. Dick in particular has had to step up on his behalf to smooth things over between family members. Forced to become another parent to the kids he brought home. It was never Dick’s responsibility and it’s taken time and a lot of effort but Bruce is making steps forward, trying to stop repeating the same mistakes. It was only Alfred’s guidance and help raising the boy that he excelled instead of crumbling under Bruce’s incompetence. Bruce was trying though. Even if it was hard to talk about casually, he was in therapy, it was.. Helping. He’s not putting so much of himself onto his children these days. He’s been processing his thoughts and feelings instead of bottling them inside and letting his anger rule him.

Words though, they still escaped him on the best days. Today was shaping up into an absolutely horrible one. Bruce wanted to say something to reassure his sons that things would be okay. None sounded right. He let them choke him. If they could just find Danyal. As much as it would pain Bruce, his youngest doesn’t have to stay with them-with him. Bruce could never trap him here. He… He just wants Danyal to recover. Recover and be safe, whatever that looks like. The boy looked so small next to Damian. They’re twins and Danyal was so small on that bed next to his brother, all skin and bones, his skin stretched over his face making him look years older and the blood, oh God, it took a second but once they realized all that green was coming from inside of him, Bruce was sure they were going to be planning another funeral. The Y-shaped wound was gruesome and he had stared in shock. Another one of his children getting cut open, violated. Vivisected. He was going to mourn another child. He was going to puke. He was going to destroy those who dared to touch Danyal. A heady mix of vengeance and justice for a boy he’d never properly meet. Somehow though, the boy had stabilized. His boy, another one. He’s too old for surprise kids. Only to be spirited away by Damian behind layers and layers of traps that had made the family hesitate and then they were gone, on the run with Alfred’s careful stitches being the only thing holding Danyal together.

What were they thinking? Why wasn’t I? Why didn’t I fight Damian harder when he locked them out of the recovery room? No…Danyal was already compromised. Damian saw this and ran from his family because he didn’t trust them to protect Danyal, didn’t trust them not to set him off. Maybe they would’ve made it worse, maybe his son was right even if Bruce didn’t want to admit it. Damian was saving them from an error. The boy who he had only met unconscious or through a screen, would’ve lashed out at himself again and they would’ve caused his-

“B? The Batmobile’s tracker has stopped moving on the edge of Burnside near the Craig Bridge. I can’t get a clear view.” Oracle reports

“Hn.” He adjusts his trajectory and his sons follow suit, adjusting their positions to be out behind him in a V-shaped formation. If someone were to see them at this hour they’d see the vigilantes and would draw parallels between them and their namesakes, in normal circumstances it might bring a ghost of a smile across his face, they were a mixed bag flock. His flock. His family. He was thankful to have them at his back tonight. They’d find the boys, they had to. They still had nothing on the threat that was nipping at Danyal’s heels. If they were caught…

“Why would the Demon Brats go there?” Jason grumbles. They’re three blocks away now so Bruce has to fight his nausea down. They might have to subdue the boys if they won’t listen to reason. The idea of injuring Danyal further or obliterating any chance to build a relationship because he sees them as a threat rather than family. He has to stay firm though. He might have not been allowed in the room but between Alfred’s worried fretting and the security feed Bruce is very aware how Danyal shouldn’t be moving let alone going on the run with Damian. If Danyal would just let him explain he had options maybe he’d come back on his own.

“Hood, Red Robin, hang back and spread out. Start searching. I’d like to have our newest addition to Agent A within the hour. Nightwing with me.”

His grapple connects to the next roof and he leans into the arc so his path can wrap around the corner. Just ahead the Batmobile is stopped. The doors were open, no signs of the boys or of a struggle. Bruce knows they won’t find anything inside the Batmobile, Damian is efficient and clean in his work, but they look anyway. Bruce shares a look with his oldest and sighs.

“Nothing in the Batmobile, Hood, Red Robin, report.” He shoots his grapple at the closest roof to get a better view of the surrounding area, Nightwing follows closely behind him.

“Nothing that I can see.” Hood grunts.

“Nothing here either, no alerts from the cameras.” Red Robin sounds frustrated, “You don’t think they bailed in a dead zone, do you? Robin wouldn’t have him jump from a speeding vehicle, right?”

“Hn.” Bruce refuses to acknowledge that thought. Even if it was a likely option, if they felt it necessary to throw them off to that degree. Dick is quiet next to him. He wants to say the right thing to ease his worries. Bruce has never been good at finding the right words, to reassure without false promises but will always try, “We’ll figure out what happened, Chum.”

Dick looks at him for a long moment. Bruce lets him and tries not to shutter himself away. Dick needs Bruce more than Batman right now. “Yeah,” It comes out grim, “before or after my youngest brother reopens something?”

Bruce squeezes his son’s shoulder before turning away and shoots his grapple at the next roof. Right before he jumps he says, “We can only hope the boys are being careful and try our best to find them.”

#daydreamsandcrashingwaves #dc x dp #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batpham #demon twins au #danny fenton whump #danny and damian are twins #Keeping it close to the chest #fic writing #KICTTC fic #KICTTC update #my writing #lets just say this is more of a sneak peak ;3 #danny fenton #damian wayne #WHERE DID THEY GO BWAHAHAHHAHa

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