thinking about an alternative older bf!simon who isn’t quite “boyfriend” yet but is a dirty old man that’s staying with you for the summer.
once he was sure that he was alone on the upstairs floor of the house, simon quietly closed your bedroom door behind him.
overwhelming was probably the best way to describe it.
so much of you in everywhere he looked, a mug with a smudge of your lip balm on the rim, your book open on your page on the nightstand, clothes strewn about the floor.
with a pair of pink panties precariously placed on top of the pile.
he was like a man possessed, like he’d stepped out of himself and let something else entirely take over him.
one large hand grabbed the frilly little pair as the other was blindly unfastening his belt in haste. the minute he flopped back on your bed, he nearly passed out.
your smell enveloped him, your shampoo on the pillows, your perfume lingering on the sheets. he lay the seat of your underwear across his nose and mouth as his hand slipped under the waistband of his trousers.
his cock was already sticky and leaking against his thigh as he used the precum to slide his foreskin along the shaft.
using his other hand, he pressed your panties even further into his nose- taking a big deep breath to savour the musky scent of your cunt.
“do you need a hand?”
his heart nearly stopped, panties falling into his lap as he sat bolt upright and stilled his hand.
you, pretty and perfect you- standing in the doorway of the bedroom and staring at him like the filthy fucking pervert he is.
“oh god- i’m so fuckin’ sorry- i don’t even know-”
putting your hands up, you sushed him as you pushed the door shut behind you with your foot.
“calm down, i’m not a cop- i asked you a question.”
you asked him a question, simon had been so fucking pink with embarrassment that he couldn’t even will himself to remember what you’d said.
thankfully, you filled in the blanks.
“would you like a hand?”
just like before, totally out of control of his own body- he found himself nodding his head before he began stuttering.
“yes- yes, please.”
you smiled like you were pleased, it made simon’s chest flutter.
“nice manners.”
lifting one leg, you began to fix under your skirt as he saw the stark white material begin to the roll down your thighs. white lacy panties were soon being flung at him across the room.
he was quick to cover his nose again with this new pair, already having a shameless breath of the sweet slick in the seat of them.
you were already curling into his side like a kitten, hand immediately finding its way into his underwear.
“hmm, you’re all sticky.”
“sorry, i’m a bit of a mess.”
quirking your eyebrow like you knew something he didn’t, simon’s whole body shuddered as you began to twist your wrist along the length of him.
“naturally.”
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i have... ✨Danyal Al Ghul Headcanons✨ but specifically for my yaelokre danyal oneshot
There's also the tumblr post here but I recommend the link in the title because its the ao3 version, and that one is edited and has some stuff in it that's not in the tumblr post, and will be the version I'm using.
So for summary: this Danyal is also from a Demon Siblings Au where Danny is five years older than Damian. However, things turned out a bit differently, and Danny and Damian had a fantastic relationship with one another. Danny loved music and regularly came up with songs to sing to Damian with. Specifically the folk band Yaelokre's EP "Hayfields" (seriously go fucking listen to it its sooo good. Harpy Hare is the second song but its my favorite. Special shoutout to @gascansposts for introducing the band to me)
He falls off a train when he's twelve and Damian is seven while the two of them and Talia are on mission. He ends up with magically induced amnesia and wakes up in Arkansas while the Fentons are on their yearly Divorce-iversary visit to Aunt Alica, and since he can only remember his name, he ends up being taken into their care.
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Yaelokre Danny has the same facial scar as Things in Threes Danyal, since he was initially another version of him where things turned out better. I'm debating on whether or not I should take it away however, and give him a different scar (maybe from when he fell off the train?), just because the scar is a pretty key identifier for Ti3 Danyal.
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Danny frequently visits Aunt Alicia in Arkansas! Well, only after he gets settled in and stuff. He doesn't really like the city that much and prefers the countryside where Alicia lives. I know she lives in a cabin but I'm changing it to a farm, so she puts Danny to work and gets him to help her.
I don't want to confine his hobbies to only being star stuff, because people tend to have more than one hobby and I feel like it reduces him to one-dimensionality, so he likes to garden, and learns guitar. His room becomes filled with plants, and he turns their roof into a rooftop greenhouse right below to OPS Center.
He has a complex relationship with the weapons from his past, but he's not... like... appalled by it? When he finds his weapons in the Fenton attic all he thinks is that they're his weapons, and he starts carrying a knife on him afterwards. Essentially he becomes fascinated with weaponry because its one of the few physical ties he has to his past, and while he's not training like he is in the League, he allows his strong muscle memory to guide him through his katas.
Danny likes climbing things. This causes Problems For Everyone Else.
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Danny was not the "kinder Al Ghul" in the League. His kindness extended to his brother and family, and that's it. To everyone else he had high expectations out of them, and the pride you'd expect from the grandson of Ra's Al Ghul and trained by its top members. While he wasn't like, unnecessarily cruel or anything, he wasn't merciful either.
This transfers post-train fall as him coming off as no-nonsense and unforgiving. He's not fond of the idea of giving people second chances, and is skeptical of the idea. He's disgusted by incompetency and views it as an unforgivable offense, especially if he thinks that the person should know better, although he's not sure why. Some egocentrism for the soul.
He doesn't like being touched by anyone who isn't family, and gets irritated when anyone grabs him or holds onto him for extended amounts of time. Dash has gotten hit so many times. With Jack Fenton's tendency for abrupt physical affection, it doesn't make it any better. I'd argue it'd make it worse because Danny doesn't want to be touched more often than not.
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Danyal had a red scarf in the League that he wore on his last mission, it came off before he fell off and caught itself on the roof. Damian still has it and took it with him to Wayne Manor. He's got it locked in his room and takes it out when he's alone and missing Danny the most. One time he forgot to put it away before leaving his room, and Dick was visiting the manor for something and found it. Damian found him holding it and freaked out.
Dick could only say "I've never seen you wear this, Damian, this is really pretty--" before Damian shoved him to the floor and stole it out of his hands, before screaming at him; "Don't touch this! You don't ever touch this! This is mine! You hear me!?"
It caused such a commotion that the rest of the family present came to see what the fuss was about, and Damian kicked them all out of his room. Dick is the one brother Damian's the closest with, so the fact he reacted so strongly shocked them all.
This is likely what leads to the "Danyal" conversation.
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It’s kink-tober so I’m going to be depraved and request spicy Thenamesh with lots of dirty talk and praise 👀
"Is this what you want?"
Thena moaned, already quivering.
"The Goddess of War," his voice rumbled next to her ear, accompanying the symphony of other sensations pulling her mind as thin as it could go. "Such a formidable force. And yet such a good girl."
Thena let out another moan, her hands sliding up her bare skin, over her ribs and to the fullness of her breasts. Her thighs rubbed together, the throbbing between them demanding friction and pressure.
"What would the world think?" he growled, his hands only ever teasing where her hands tried to fill the gap. "The Warrior Eternal, lying naked in the great temple of Athens, soaking wet and whimpering."
She was feverish for him. She bit into her lip, her hands sneaking down to her thighs again.
"Ah," he grinned, catching her hands and keeping them away from where she needed them the most. "Patience, Goddess of mine."
"Gil," she moaned again, arching her back on the chaise of her choosing. Of his choosing, actually. He claimed he had always admired how it curved to her waist perfectly and how much he wanted to worship her on it.
"Gil what, great Thena of Athens?" he whispered, trailing his tongue from the inside of her wrist to the golden bands on her arms before sliding them off. "Tell me what you want."
"Fuck me."
"Good girl," he repeated, and the words coiled something within her just by hitting the air. He moved his mouth from her arm to her breast, teasing just one nipple first. "How do you want to be fucked?"
"Hard," she whined, feeling as if her vision was spinning as she stared up at the sky through the small opening in the temple roof. A single pillar of daylight streamed into her chamber from it.
"Where?"
"You know where," she growled at him, only for him to use that strength of his to pry her thighs apart. She gasped as her lips parted and the air hit her very core. Her chest heaved as she panted.
"What was that?" he asked again, holding her legs around his hips for his pleasure and enjoyment. "My beautiful, succulent Goddess?"
Thena shuddered again, her hips quivering in his hold. She keened as he trailed just one finger along the underside of one of her thighs. The closer he drew to his goal the slower he moved. She growled again.
He winked at her, trailing the finger up and up until he could swipe it between her lips and up against her pearl of nerves. He drew it back, popping it into his mouth with plenty of wetness to enjoy.
Thena gasped harder, so stimulated she was ready to come just from the slightest touch. Her knees bent reflexively, but Gil moved closer to her between her legs.
"Good," he purred for her again, moving his hands from her thighs to the edges of the chaise and gripping hard enough to crack the wood. "Now, we're being a little more honest."
Thena watched as he took himself in hand, gripping the base and fully enhancing his length and thickness. Her mouth watered.
"Is this what you want?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Is this what you want to be fucked with?"
"Yes," she mewled.
"Do you want this," he grinned, bouncing the thing slightly, "inside you?"
"Please," she moaned, tossing her head back as he pressed just the head of him to her wetness. It was excessive by this point, but it was entirely his fault.
"Good girl."
Again with those words, and Thena's vision went completely white as he finally pushed into her. He fit her perfectly, filling what was empty, moulding to her body precisely and gently, their bodies tangling in a way that would make real gods blush.
Her arms were around him, nails dug into his back. So little could mark the skin of an Eternal, but he let her. He allowed her to mark him as her own simply for the honour and the privilege of the title.
"Fuck, Thena," her great Champion moaned as he started moving. He was bent over her, their bodies sealed together like two mortal beasts rutting. And yet far more beautiful.
"Gil," she panted, clinging to him like a vine clinging to a pillar. She moaned as he thrust his hips, pounding into her and shaking her world with each movement.
"Fuck," he growled against her ear before burying his face in her neck. He nipped and then suckled on her throat. "You take my cock so well."
Her body shuddered from the inside out, that time.
"Like you were made for it," he snarled, moving faster and harder. His hips slapped against hers, echoing around the marble walls. "Like it was made for you."
She clenched around him again, dragging her nails over the flesh of his broad back. His weight was so solid against her, grounding her to the planet and refusing to let her ascend into the stars without him.
"Talk to me," he spoke directly into the skin of her breast.
"Good, so good, I can't," she just barely uttered with the breath she had.
"Come for me?" he asked of her, as if she had any choice but to be completely at the mercy of what he did to her body. He gathered her hair in his hand, pushing her chin up so he could kiss below her ear. His tongue wrapped around the jewels there and then trailed down her jugular. "Just for me?"
Oh, there was only him. Thena moaned with her lips pressed tight, Gil's thumb under her ear, his fingers in her hair. She grew tighter around him and his hips moved more feverishly in response to her need.
"Yes, yes, yes," she repeated, unable to speak anything else. Their hips met more vigorously, battling every time they met. She moved hers more intently, grinding herself against his solidity with greed. "Fuck, it's coming."
"That's my girl."
Thena shrieked, coming undone around him, enfolding him within her like waves against the shore. She clung to him. Her nails drew up his back until she could run them through the softness of his hair. Her hands were all over him, her lips laying claim to his without regard of a need for air.
He kissed her like she was all the air he needed.
Thena moaned as he changed state within her, up until the moment he slipped out of her, the evidence of their togetherness getting everywhere. Her head rolled to the side, upon the fine pillow he had chosen for her at the start of this venture. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to collect herself.
"My Goddess," he whispered still against the hollow of her throat. He pulled himself from her with the utmost reluctance. Her thighs trembled and he brought them together oh so gently. Her body shivered and he pulled the fine silk over the back of the chaise to lay over her. Her lips pursed and he kissed them again.
"Leaving so soon?" she heard herself utter, even if she was still half in the clouds.
Gilgamesh chuckled, pulling on just enough of his robes to be decent. "Just to get some water, sweetheart."
She loved it when he called her that.
He leaned over her, pushing her hair out of his way again, but just to leave a gentle kiss to the high arch of her cheek.
"Do not be long, Gilgamesh," she mustered the effort to sound commanding, although she was far, far too sated for that.
"I wouldn't dream of it, my Goddess."
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