#i have the tips function turned on

[windor-truffle]

I realize I've been talking big about torturing Asbel without actually presenting any evidence of that, so allow me to summarize a current WIP with a canon screenshot:

eyyyyy psychological torture we love to see it

[darcyolsson]

in loving memory of tumblr's april fools' pranks 💐 2014 - 2024

icymi, tumblr used to do an elaborate april fool's prank every year, but this year they suddenly stopped. here's a somewhat detailed recap of everything they did over the decade:

2013 - mishapocalypse (honourable mention): tumblr staff didn’t start doing april fools until 2014, but the mishapocalypse happened on tumblr in 2013 and i feel like this list would be incomplete without it

2014 - tumblrpro: upon opening your dash you were greeted by an “inspirational” video, that ended with the option to get “tumblrpro (for free)”. all it did was put a top hat on your icon.

2015 - tumblr executivesuite/coppy: a copying machine appeared in the corner of your dash. it would offer tips on how to use tumblr, like clippy the paperclip used to do in microsoft word. as the day went on, it slowly broke down and died right in front of your eyes. many people hated him (but not me). you could also make a (small) spreadsheet. @executivesuite2016 is the official blog.

2016 - this is decision/lizard election/tumblrdecides: a parody of the 2016 US elections. there were 4 lizards (well, one of them turned out to be a salamander in a scandal) to vote for. the dash looked different and there was a live news report with election updates, as well as an election blog for each lizard. they all had their own slogans and you would get an "i voted" button after you voted that would get slapped next to your icon. there were built-in functions to make an election poster for your favourite lizard and to create a text post that supported your lizard of choice that autogenerated a statement for all your followers to read. imo tumblr’s april fools peak. @thisisdecision2016-blog is the official blog, @mop-2016-blog @wretchedtooth @timefordeborah-blog were candidates. rick also had a blog (rick-official) but that now seems to have vanished because he ended up dropping out of the election. mop won, if you're curious. by far the most elaborate prank tumblr ever did.

2017 - horse friend: a tamagotchi-inspired game where you had to take care of a little horse in the corner of your screen. it came with a randomly generated name, and you had to feed and clean up after it. if you didnt take good care of it, it died. you could then hatch (yes, hatch) a new one. there was also an option to look at the names of all your dead horses. this is now available to buy in the tumblr shop. @horse-friends is the official blog.

2018 - tumblcoin: a parody of cryptocurrency (this was the year bitcoin took off). you could ‘invest’ in tumblcoin, with which you could in turn buy things with to spice up your dash, including last year’s horse friend, coppy from 2015, and a frame for around your icon. you could share the amount of tumblcoin you owned in an automatically generated gif post which would be tagged #tbc2018 and #tumblcoin. @tumblcoin is the official blog.

2019 - @memories: this blog still functions the way it did on april fools itself! it's like mad libs, where it takes post templates and then adds in tags you use a lot and users you frequently interact with on your main blog. like a personalized shitpost bot.

2020 - group chat prank/@storybot: it was so hard to find info on this because it was contained entirely in the now-defunct group chat function, which no one used. i had to go through the notes of this post for information because no one cared enough to actually write anything explaining it. turns out, you could write a story with your mutuals by adding storybot to your group chat. it also kept working after april fools (well, up until the group chats were deleted) just like memories. many people missed out on it entirely because they did not use the group chat function.

2021 - tumblcryptids: tumblr allowed you to adopt “non-fungible tumblcryptids”, a parody of NFTs. clicking a button that said "Summon thy Tumblrcryptid" would spawn an image of a little blob-shaped creature with a short description, which would always read "Hi! My name is [randomly generated name]. I love [thing most people like]. I hate [thing most people dislike]. Like my parent, I can't get enough of #[tag from your main blog]." you could share them in a post, which would automatically add the tag #NFTumblcryptids to your post. and yes, people on the piss on the poor website freaked out about it because they thought they were real NFTs harming the environment. @tumblcryptidadoptioncenter is the official blog.

2022 - click-a-thon: when you clicked a light switch on your dashboard, a bunch of colourful things showed up, like a sponge you could move around, an "engagament meter", clickable buttons, and a “Summon Crab!” button, which would summon a crab when you clicked it. you could. the crabs, like horse friend, are still available in the tumblr store as of 2025. here's some screenshots. there were various ways to share your crab activities, which would all get tagged #april fools 2022. the prank was presented as a marketing technique created by Brick Whartley, a fictional businessman character created by tumblr, who (afaik) originated in a post on the official blog of the 2018 april fools prank, albeit originally in a different role. around this time he also started functioning as the mascot for tumblr's shop ( @emporium )

2023 - abstract reactions (emoji reacts): buttons were added to every post that allowed you to add emoji reactions, many of them based on tumblr inside jokes (horse as a reference to horse plinko/horse friend, vanilla for the vanilla extract meme, pikaman, bug for bug race, and brick whartley, who wasn't a meme but staff really wanted him to be). if one specific emoji was used a certain amount of times it would add an effect to the post, eg many cheese emoji reacts would cover the post in cheese. this was also attributed to Brick Whartley ("his" blog @brickwhartley also documented the day)

2024 - boop-o-meter: allowed you to “boop” other users who had opted in to the booping, like facebook’s poke feature back in the day. depending on how long you held the button, you would either boop, super boop, or evil boop. on the dashboard there was a counter for both how many times you had booped others and how many times others had booped you, as well as how many boops were given side-wide. when booping someone, an image of a cat paw appeared. you would get badges (which can still be used) for booping 1, 100 and 1000 times. if you gave/received more than 999 boops, the counter would switch to showing a three-letter word (see this post for specifics). this was brought back for halloween 2024 (as BOOp-o-meter. get it), with a ghost, skeleton and mummy paw. no official blog, but here's an official recap for april first from staff. i believe this was the only april fools prank that was mobile user friendly.

2025 - @fandom is running some polls, i guess

[ilajue]

drew over something i wrote for a class and liked :] sorry the cars are lowkey ugly, its because I fucking hate cars and cant be bothered to learn what they look like beyond ominous hunks of metal

edit: transcript of the poem by itself under the cut

6 Tips for Crossing the Road

Look both ways

The road is for cars. 

Make sure to look for them before crossing. Even when you have the right of way, cars have a lot of safety features and you have none. 

Use designated crosswalks 

The road is for cars. 

So is the crosswalk but, under brief and temporary conditions, you can use it too! Never jaywalk, never walk in the road, just hope there is a clear and functional sidewalk. 

Cross at the light

The road is for cars. 

There are rules and signs for them, but that can only go so far. Walk quickly and hold your breath and hope that the light doesn't turn. Make eye contact with drivers as their cars teem with potential energy, rumbling with disdain at the inconvenience of your crossing. Try to ignore the cloud of exhaust that you are in and they are above. 

Leash your pets

The road is for cars. 

Obviously. 

To you, it may be natural to sacrifice so much space to them but to your dog, it is not. His instinct is to explore freely. You must curb it. Modern US car models have such high hoods that the average child, let alone dog, is obscured. Even on the sidewalk, hold the leash tight because the sidewalk (if you are so blessed) is next to the street and the threat still looms.

Look out for road kill

The road is for cars. 

And no one was there to leash the deer. 

Or the raccoon. 

Or the cat. 

Did you know that the most reliable sample method for wildlife in an area is looking at the roadkill? 

Remember these tips

The road is for cars. 

Cars are everywhere. In the city. In the suburbs. In the country. In the woods (the US Forest Service manages more roads than the entire Ministry of Transit in China.) Cars are everywhere because there are roads to bring them there, which is great if you are a car and want to get from place to place fast without worrying about the in-between. 

Unfortunately, you are not a car. 

You are an animal. 

You are in-between. 

So remember to look both ways. 

[madamechrissy]

Worst Behavior

Art in the center by Houhai673 on lofter

pairings- stepbrother! Sukuna x f! Reader (lil bit of Toji/reader)

summary - Sukuna’s dad married your mom while you were in high school, and you hated each other on sight. He endlessly picked on and tortured you. So much so that he became a fucking YouTube sensation from prank videos starring you! You come back home for summer break after a bad breakup, and of course annoying ass Sukuna is there, with his stupid smirk, ready to pick on you again, only to be derailed when he sees you're going out with his old friend Toji for a date. Turns out, Sukuna has had it bad for you for a long time, and making you hate him was the only way to guarantee you stay far away, but can he keep up the act?

content/warnings - MDNI, tw- stepcest, lots of pining, kinda one-sided lol, Sukuna is an asshole to you, reader hates him. Enemies to ????- ton of sexual tension, jealous ass Sukuna. This chap - fingering, Toji saying what's up, Sukuna masturbating and being just depraved and pathetic tbh, panty stealing, taboo relationships

part two>>>

part one

It was junior year of high school when your mom remarried, and you can't forget that day, the first time you met that pretentious little shit Sukuna. Who was now your 'family' you guess?

He was a couple of years older, already in freshman year of college, he'd come home on break and torment you endlessly, a whole fucking bulky. He'd hide shit high where you can never reach it, jumpscare you constantly, woke you up to fuck with you, and even filmed his pranks and put them on YouTube.

The jerk was actually YouTube famous from the amount of pranks he'd pull and your golden reactions. A mix of throwing shit at him, cursing him out or smacking him while he held his phone and recorded it. There was no doubt in your mind you just hated the giant asshole of an older 'stepbrother’ you had.

Now you're graduating this year, back home for summer break, and luckily Sukuna almost never visits anymore. He's running his stupid YouTube channel and banking on it, on being a dumb little prankster for his millions of subscribers, so now he lives pretty far thank God.

Let him prank everyone else.

You both don't talk whatsoever aside from holidays and family functions, and then it's just Sukuna picking on you. Not much has changed in five years, maybe his tactics are better. A little sneakier.

You smile and hug your mom, and your step-dad. He's actually pretty fucking cool, and your mom and him are cute together. "Hey hunny, I'm so glad you're here!" Your mom is going on and on about a party she's throwing, as you settle into your room, nothing's changed really. Your mom keeps it all the same.

"Mom, you don't have to keep all this out," you tease, looking at your old posters that adorn the walls, scattered Polaroids pinned to your corkboard. "You could make it a guest room?"

"We have a guest room, we love having your stuff here. And Sukuna's room is the same."

"Ugh don't say his name, you'll summon him!" Your mom laughs a bit as you shiver in feigned disgust.

"He's family honey."

"Not even. I get dad, I really do, but I think Sukuna and I will never get along."

"Ah shit that hurts sis." You hear his pretentious voice and panic as he leans in the doorway, stupid fucking smirk on his far too attractive face. You glare at him.

"Yuck don't call me that, weirdo." He flips you off behind your mom's back, putting his hands away as your mom comes up and hugs him tightly. He smirks over her shoulder as you flip him off back. 

"She's so mean to me, why can't she be nicer like you," he pouts, and your mom laughs a bit, leaning on her tip toes to ruffle his light pink locks. 

"You're both mean to each other. Maybe a couple weeks at home will help you two learn to get along."

"He's staying for a couple weeks!? Ugh." You sigh and he scoffs. Your mom shakes her head and looks at you both.

"Dinner in thirty. Get settled and don't kill each other."

Sukuna eyes you then, ever so slowly up and down, while you start setting things down. "Really filled out huh?"

"I'll punch you." He grins again, you wall up and shove at him, pausing when you feel just how hard his chest is. Blushing a bit, he notices apparently, raising a brow.

"Feeling me up?"

"Gross no. Gym rat." He glares now and you smile right back.

"Yeah how's that loser boyfriend of yours?" He asks so casually. Walking in your room and touching all your shit like he does. You follow him and put everything back in its place as he skews every position of any item.

"We broke up," he pauses at your tone, eyeing you then. You're so pretty you make his heart pound in his chest, not like he'd ever fucking tell you. He calls you a gremlin and worse, knowing you're a whole knockout. "Yeah, rub it in."

"Wasn't gonna," you pause then, as his ruby eyes glint and catch yours. For a moment you see a rare softness in them, making you falter. "He got tired of your bitchiness?"

"Oh fuck off." You roll your eyes, sinking on the white day bed, hands brushing the soft sheets that smell like your mom's favorite fabric softener. But you also smell him, Sukuna, so manly and taking over your space, he leans on your dresser, eyeing a picture of you.

"What happened?"

"Like you care," you lay back, shorts sliding up your thighs. Revealing far, far too much skin, he barely tears his eyes away. "He left me for my best friend."

"Oh shit..." he doesn't know what to say, all he's ever done is pick on you, prank you. Be a whole ass. How does he... comfort you? Without getting too close, feeling shit he can't?

What you didn't realize, is Sukuna has had it bad for you for years now. He knows he can never act on it, so the next best thing was to make your life a living hell. To make you hate him and stay far, far away.

It worked, you hate him.

But it's still not enough to stop the raging thoughts always inside him, of the filthy things he thinks of when he's alone. Stroking his cock to memories of you rather than porn, finding himself comparing others to the traits he loves about you. Traits you'll never know.

He can never ever tell you.

"I've got a date this week though. Old friend of ours." You lean up on your elbows, eyeing him then. He feels that familiar pang of fucking jealousy he also can't feel, remembering the ridiculous amount of men he's chased off over the years.

"What old friend?" He asks curiously, you smile a little then.

"Toji. Weren't you two super close?"

"Toji!? You are not going out with Toji." You sit up and glare, Sukuna crosses his thick arms. "Absolutely not."

"I'm twenty one. I'll do what I want, but don't you like him?"

"Tch, you're such an annoying fucking brat," his words make you stand up, as he sets down your polaroid, it's a pretty picture that's always burned in his brain. You at the beach all happy and pretty, he'd been so hard that day he'd had to jerk it in the fucking bathroom stall.

Why do you have to be so pretty? It's so annoying, and your shit attitude. Toji would be all over you, he always found you hot, but he never dared make a move once Sukuna let him know you were off limits. Was Sukuna not as imposing now that he's a YouTube star? Toji acted as if he couldn't still beat his ass down.

“Put the picture back, you’re so weird.” He holds it up high, smirking down at you, while you jump up and try to grab it, his big grin growing on his face, while he runs around your room with it.

“Too short, aww.”

“Anyone is short you giant, lord of the rings ent.”

“Nerd!”

“Give it!” You’re bouncing again, and he’s far too enamored by your pretty tits jiggling for a moment, his hand falls as his eyes catch them, you snatch your picture up then. “Hah! Now go.”

“Like I wanna be in here.” He’s scowling as he walks out, you lock your door with a little click when Sukuna stands in front of it, sighing and resting his back on it.

Why is it worse than usual seeing you? Typically he could hold his composure somewhat, why do you have to smell so good and - 

Shit he needs to stop.

*****

Dinner with Sukuna is the worst. He's devouring everything on his plate before leaning over, starting to slam down your food too. You scoff and shove the whole plate at him. "Yuck, just have it, now it's covered in Sukuna germs."

"You should count yourself lucky to have any of them from me, brat."

"Will you two stop," your mom and Sukuna's dad say it simultaneously with a big sigh, it's an automatic response when you both have to be in each other's vicinity.

"Why don't you just stay somewhere fancy, rich boy?"

"Tch, you really would miss me if I didn't come over, can't have you all upset." You roll your eyes as your mom gives you an entire other plate of food. Sukuna's already downed your plate and eyeing the new one.

"Let me eat holy shit," you turn away from him, about to stab him with the fork when he goes for a piece of chicken. "Sukuna!"

"Stop it, go get another plate." Sukuna's dad instantly has Sukuna resigned just a bit, he rolls his eyes and leaves your plate alone. The two of them look more like brothers than father and son really, he's a spitting image of him.

Sukuna is handsome, you suppose, though he knows it and is so pretentious about it, that it's just annoying. You'd never tell him he was, either, not when he calls you a little gremlin. That started the first year you lived here, along with dweeb, shrimp and brat, he was a classic bully.

You nibble a bit as you stare at your phone, swiping away the annoying notification that he posted, only for him to eye it, smirking. "Aw you do love me, following me and everything!"

"You wish, I keep ignoring it and it won't stop. Conspiracy or some shit."

"Honey, no cussing at the table."

"Sorry mom," she laughs at you two, shaking her head, while Sukuna leans over, peeking at the phone you're now bringing to your chest. "Will you fuck off."

"Language honey. Ow!" You stomp right on his foot, earning a scowl landed at you. "Brat!"

"Jerk! I don't want to eat, I lost my appetite." You stand up then, plate almost entirely untouched, walking up the stairs as your mom asks you to come back down.

God you can't stand him.

You get a knock later, and he's holding a plate in his big ass hands, frowning a bit. "What, dad yell at you?"

"Just eat," he shoves the plate at you, you notice it's been warmed up when the glass touches your skin. You blink a bit in surprise. "You didn't eat anything."

"You ate all my food like an ass, and I'm not hungry." You shove the plate back at him and his eyes narrow, your fingers touching as you try to put it back in his hands.

"Will you just eat? Now."

"You don't tell me what to do.

"You're such a-

"Brat, I know." You tug the plate back, rolling your eyes now. "I'll eat if you leave me alone."

"I don't want to hang out with you anyway," he says, lying his fucking ass off - god he wants to just spend time with you, not that he ever would say it or do it for that matter. “You better eat it all.”

“Oh Jesus.” You shake your head at him, sighing and nibbling some of it when he walks away, you hate how good his ass looks in those stupid gym shorts. He catches you staring damn near, looking back at you with a raised brow, you quickly scowl and shut the door.

Why does Sukuna look so good? You can’t think the shit.

After eating you’re washing up, bumping into Sukuna as he heads to the bathroom, shirtless just to distract you, surely. You’re breathless when you see his bare chest - has he gotten more chiseled? More tattoos? There are many sliding across his chest, his flat brown nipples, dipping down his rib cage and tracing his obliques. For a moment you can’t even say anything, just standing there.

“Did you eat?” You blink a bit, looking up and nodding a bit. “Nothing smart to say?”

“I’m just tired.”

You’re far, far too close to him then, just standing there, cheeks heating up at the proximity. He’s always been gorgeous, he’s always been buff, it shouldn’t bother you now so much. Without another word, Sukuna walks into the bathroom and you head out of it, shoulder brushing one of his biceps, the contact alone making your tummy tense.

The fuck was going on with you lately?

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t originally have a crush on Sukuna when you met him, how couldn’t you? He was so hot, especially to a younger you, before you realized what an ass he was as soon as he opened his mouth. After that first prank you knew he was just your enemy, not that you could have ever acted on your stupid crush anyway.

He’s family now, honey.

You cover your face with the blankets, avoiding any thoughts of that tattooed body on top of you. Maybe it’s your break up, maybe it’s the date coming up, maybe you’re ovulating, fuck… Whatever it is, you’re undeniably clenching around nothing from being too close to that asshole.

*****

Your date with Toji is tonight, you had a little crush on him when he’d come visit with Sukuna over the summers, but of course he never left you alone with Toji. He was annoying as can be when it came to making sure no one talked to you, because no one wanted to fuck with Sukuna, it’s just now gotten easier, since he’s out of college and some of them have gotten a little braver.

He hated your last boyfriend when you brought him over, on sight, though you have to admit he may have been onto something with that one, he really was a complete dick now that you look back on it. But he hated everyone you dated, making sure if he ran into them on campus to threaten them for no good reason, most of them just gave up.

You ran into Toji the other day randomly, and he was looking really good. He's that dangerous bad boy that your mom tells you to stay away from, but you never listen. Good guy you were just with fucked your former friend however, so you’re truly not so sure what everything means right now. Giving him a chance for a date seems like the perfect way to forget two things.

One, your shitty ex.

Two, your annoying step brother.

You’re eyeing your outfit in the mirror, turning this way and that, before brushing your hair out, you’re dressed in a lacy little black bustier and a pretty pleated skirt, you two are going to a concert so you figure you’ll look cute for it. You’re popping on a little gloss, slathering it over your lips until they’re glistening, doing a little spin and then checking Toji’s text.

You’re running down the stairs, hand on the rail, cool under your touch, when you pause, almost running into Sukuna and nearly tumbling off that last step. Sukuna  curses, catching you quickly, until you’re pressed against him. He is steadying you with his hands, huge fucking hands that feel way too good on your skin, when you’re eye to eye with his chest, looking up at him slowly.

“Clumsy brat…” He grumbles, pushing you back then, but his touch lingers for a little too long. When he looks at your outfit slowly, you feel those ruby eyes like a physical touch, slipping down your body and making you tremble just a bit.

Sukuna never looks at you like that.

It’s quiet for a moment, it goes on way too long, his gaze trailing down your breasts in that top, seeing the way your nipples press up like they’re dying for him. You look too good, too pretty, too much of that body revealed, and for another dude to look and touch? His old friend at that- it fucking infuriates him, his fists clenched on either side.

He barely composes himself, while you’re just looking at him under your lashes, doing too much to his brain, his heart pounding in his chest as desire hits him right in the stomach. He’s seen you in all sorts of shorts, bikinis, you name it, but he’s never really seen you dressed like this, and it’s fucking his entire mind up, short circuiting momentarily.

He finally composes himself, crossing his arms and scowling as you smile at him, arms behind your back. “Like the outfit, Sukuna?”

“Like it, fuck no. What’re you trying to dress like that for?”

“Because we’re going to a concert!”

“Tch,” he goes to the coat stand then, yanking his down from it and scowling right down at you. “Put on the jacket, now.”

Sukuna’s throwing his jean jacket over your shoulders again, you yank it off and shove it at him, pretty breasts just heaving in that slutty little fucking top again, he’s torn between being furious anyone sees you like this, and irritated it affects him this bad. What he thought was shoved far down is prominent as ever, fuck it was even worse than before.

“No! Don’t want your stinky jacket.” He is stepping even closer, when you inhale him - and you hate to admit the fucker smells good.

“This cologne is a hundred bucks a spray, you know it smells good.”

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s nasty. As is your giant jacket, it’ll swallow me, he won’t see my outfit at all!”

“Good, no one should.” You scoff at that and shake your head at him.

“You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Yes! You’re not some big brother, and I’m grown. I’ll wear whatever I want- I look hot actually.”

“You look slutty.” His whisper is too close, you haul back and smack him then, hurting your hand and gasping, shaking it out as the tingles shoot through it, while the asshole smirks. “Hit like a little girl.”

“Oh fuck you, with your big ass head.”

“Honey! Ready for your date? He’s um…” your mom looks outside as she walks up to you two in the entry way,, where Toji is revving up his mustang. “He’s here… I guess.”

“Can’t come to the fucking door?” Sukuna says, you scowl at him.

“Like you do that for girls.”

Sukuna raises a brow. “Like you know what I do for girls.”

“I’ve heard plenty,” he smirks then, shaking his head. “Oh you’re notorious, how many girls have you dated? Manwhore.”

“Me, a manwhore?”

“Mom,” you turn to her now, as she still eyes Toji standing outside of his mustang, you can tell all her motherly instincts are telling her to intervene, but she has always let you make your own decisions.

“Yes sweetie?”

“Tell him I’m fine in this,” your mom pauses, lips parting as Sukuna’s dad comes out, and looks at you briefly before he takes off his jacket from the rack, earning Sukuna’s chuckle. “Really now!?”

“It’ll be cold,” he tries to play it off, clearing his throat as he covers you up with his jean jacket instead. “You’ll catch a chill. And why isn’t he at the door?”

“Exactly-”

“Shush.” You put your finger to your lips as Sukuna is about to gloat at the fact that your parents are in agreement. “Suck up.”

“Me? You!”

“Okay,” your mom takes off the jacket, earning the two men’s scowls. “She’s an adult, she chooses what she wears. Even if… she should wear a jacket.”

“I love you.” You kiss her cheek, grabbing your purse and phone then, walking outside. Sukuna walks to the porch with you, much to your irritation, glaring over at Toji who’s whistling across the yard.

“What’s up, Sukuna?” Toji’s voice makes Sukuna want to take him down, he’s grinning as he looks at you in ways he shouldn’t. “Long time no see. Oooh, don’t you look hot, doll.”

You’re giggling, giggling!? Sukuna is about to lose his mind.

He grabs your wrist, long thick fingers with black painted nails taking it over, you pause at the warmth, at the rough palms, looking up then. The night is humid but there’s a breeze tossing around his light pink locks, as he grips just a little tighter, making you turn to him.

“What is it?” You ask then, your voice for a moment is soft, Sukuna looks at you, then at Toji, sighing. “I’ll be fine.”

“Right.” He lets you go then, you’re bouncing down the stairs practically, Toji’s hand is at the small of your back, his fingers itching to break them, while you hug Toji and he wraps you in his big ass arms.

You’re opening your door, it’s not like Toji would do that, shit Sukuna’s not one to do it half the time, but the fact that it’s you makes him unreasonably angry. You look at him across the driveway, expression unreadable before you slip in the car next to him. Toji zips off so quickly Sukuna’s also worried about you driving with him.

He’s been jealous before, many, many times, but today is just too much, seeing you again, and knowing you’ll never be his, hits harder than it should. He stomps back in the house, your mom thanks him for being so caring - hah - if only she knew what he really thought about you.

Sukuna really isn’t proud of any of the next thoughts or actions that night, no he really isn’t. When he heads up to his room but lingers by yours instead, staring into it and seeing black lace on the ground. He knows he’s just horrible when he walks in and shuts that door quietly, eyeing everything in there, the sweet lingering scent of your perfume hitting his senses.

Sukuna is also not proud when he’s in your room, when he takes those panties you slipped off before you left, just sitting on the carpet by your dresser. He’s not very proud when he picks them up to his face, inhaling your scent - fuck, his ‘stepsister’ has the sweetest pussy. He has done this before, and you just get sweeter tasting, as he desperately laps your slick off them.

He’s so not proud when he’s right in your bed, putting them to his face and releasing his thick cock then, red tip leaking precum and smacking his stomach as it’s released. He knows this isn’t a good thing to do, he’s Sukuna, he could have any woman he wants, they’re all after him, and he’s stealing panties and jerking it on a friday night.

He’s furious that Toji gets to touch you.

If Sukuna touched you, he’d grip your breasts, squish them in his hands, have you littered with his hand prints, show you what it is to really get fucked, and fucked so good you’re delirous from it. Bend you over, grip your wrists with one of his hands, stretch your cunt the fuck out. God he bets it’s so pretty, too, his mind vividly pictures it as he touches his tip, exhaling.

What is he reduced to from you!? In your bed, so big he hardly fits on the fucking thing, sprawled out with his long limbs as he strokes his thick, veiny cock slowly. Your panties are right against his face, he’s perverted and depraved for doing it, especially in your bed, but he can’t stop himself. He’s moaning softly into them, as your scent fills his mind, while his hand jerks it faster and faster.

He’s whispering your name, sweat slicking his muscled body, a thin sheen glimmering under your pretty fairy lights while he’s being fucking filthy on your bed. Picturing your tummy bulging with him, stroking slowly in and out, making you squirt cum all over him till your sheets were soaked. He’s jerking faster and faster, wishing it were you, so desperate and pathetic you make him.

He hates you more for making him this way, him, fucking Sukuna, pathetically cumming in his ‘step - sister’s’ bed, as if he could call you it. He barely knows you, aside from being a dick every break, pranking you to watch your pretty face so angry, getting off on it in far, far too many ways.

He didn’t have to be home for the summer, he actually put himself out doing it, just to see you, to fucking torment you, but it’s you who torment him, when he imagines tasting your pussy from the source. He’d lap his cum out of your cunt, then fill you up again, over and over, until there was no room for anymore, just messy and dripping all down your pretty thighs.

“Fuck,” he whispers it, muffling his moan with that fabric, as his cum pumps from his huge length, dripping in white ropes down his hand, pulsing in his hold. He’s gasping at the release, picturing putting it inside your bratty little fucking mouth.

He’s cleaned up then, right with your panties, whimpering the tiniest bit as they hit his sensitive tip, jerking as he lays there now, sooty pink lashes fluttering, furious as he thinks of you on your stupid date. You’ll never know what he really thinks, it has to be that way, but it doesn’t make it easier, not when he’s cuddling with a pillow that smells like your shampoo.

*****

“I had fun!” Toji smiles, that scar curving up just a bit, his big hand on your thigh as his engine hums.

“You did, huh?”

“I did, I needed that.” He chuckles and leans close, tilting your chin up now, inky locks falling over his brow. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he practically purrs the words, you gather their meaning quickly, heart racing just a bit as his lips descend. “Been thinking of this all night.”

Toji’s kiss is nothing like your ex, it’s a rough kiss, his tongue tracing your lips and slipping in your mouth when you gasp a bit. You hear his moan when he drags one of your thighs closer, spreading you, you feel your body reacting quickly, a mix of nerves, thoughts, and clearing your pussy is reacting too. She’s already been soaked for two days, and now she’s way too excited.

“God, doll,” Toji hums as he kisses you deeper, you’re trembling when his fingers slip up your thigh carefully, teasing and leaving goosebumps everywhere. His dark green eyes lock with yours as he pulls back. “You feel s’good, ya know that?”

“Do I?” You tease, he moans and kisses you again, while in front of your childhood home, it feels so… thrilling but terrifying.

Was Sukuna watching?

No way…

And if so, what would that make you feel?

You’re contemplating that as Toji finds you over your panties, you moan softly when rough fingers slip up and down them. “So hot, fuck…”

“Mnh!” You’re spreading your thighs for more, he feels so good, kisses taking over your addled mind, and you wonder if it can shove down the thoughts you’re having about your dumbass step brother. Thoughts you can’t have, shit you can’t do - even if either of you did want to.

Sukuna would never want you like that. He’s never called you pretty, not that he should, but he’s said the opposite all the time. He doesn’t know, calling you a fucking gremlin or whatever sucks sometimes, you don’t expect his compliments, but deep down a part wants them anyway. You get looking extra pretty for him, a fact you’ll take to your fucking grave.

Toji slips under your panties, you’re gasping when he touches your wet slit with expert fingers. “Soaked, huh doll? Need me to make ya feel good?”

“I’m… ah! Toji…” you grip his wrist, his thumb is circling on your clit now, it feels really fucking good, twitching against his touch. “Mnh…”

“Wanna cum f’me, pretty?” He’s rolling quicker, more pressure now, while he drags messy kisses on your neck.

“Um, I don’t fuck on the - ngh - first date, Toji.” He pulls back now, a smile tugging on his mouth.

“Was just gonna have you cum on my fingers - fuck, mouth if you want,” you’re blushing and he notices, chuckling again. “You’re cute.”

“Cute, huh?” You wonder what it would be like, you’ve always pictured it with Sukuna, his long fingers and black nails in your cunt, things you should never, you shove it back, focusing now. “You wanna finger me?”

“Wanna have you cum,” his voice is gruff, he’s not fucking around when he slips a finger in your soppy little cunt, your nails press into the leather of his jacket as he kisses you again. “Mmm, that’s it.”

Your eyes shut as he massages your cunt with his fingers, stretching you out and making you tense, thighs trembling on either side. For whatever stupid reason you can’t get fucking Sukuna’s body in a towel out of your damn mind, no matter how many times you shove it down, instead just getting wetter. You focus on kissing him, on feeling him, the squishing wetness loud in his car still running.

“That’s it, cum, I can feel it.” Toji’s words urge you on, as he sucks along your shoulder, sinking his teeth in as his fingers curl just so, and you feel yourself cum then, pressure building and releasing in your tummy.

“Ah!” You’re whining out, earning Toji’s grin against your skin, you feel his teeth lines along you, breaths coming quicker and quicker. “Toji, god…”

“You’re so wet.” He puts your panties back, a hand entangled in your hair now. “See, I wasn't gonna go that far.”

“Are you a gentleman?”

“Fuck no,” you giggle a bit. “But we don’t have to rush things. Are you gonna go out with me again?”

“I’d like that.” He kisses you once more, you’re a little dizzy, from your thoughts, your mind, when you walk back to the porch and Toji takes off.

Why do you feel bad?

Surely not for his ass.

Surely not for a man who is just… a jerk, who’s hot sure okay, Toji is too. You need to shove it down, all of it. You try to do just that, it’s still warm outside so the jackets were a silly idea, you unlock the door with your key, stepping inside and sighing as you feel the cool air conditioning hit your skin.

You slip off your shoes by the front door, picking them up and carrying them as you walk back up the stairs, yawning a bit. You know it’s late, so you try to be quiet when you finally walk into your room. You’re taking off that top and skirt, fingers touching the knobs of your dresser so you can find some comfy clothes to sleep in. Mom has everything you’ve ever owned in here still, so you have to sift through the old clothes.

Suddenly, you hear a rustle behind you, making you jerk and eye the mirror, nearly fucking screaming as you see something turning under your goddamn blankets.

“What the fuck!?” You walk over there now, seeing the tints of pink hair in the dark, as none other than Sukuna is in your goddamn bed.

You shove at the big lug of a fucking man, only for him to stop snoring and peek at you with eyes almost black, you tense as they hit you, as you realize you’re just in a bra and panties now. They drift down your body, when he leans up, yawning now, his look making you feel even wetter, even more needy than earlier.

“Are you pranking me? Get up…” Your voice is quiet, as he yawns, gripping your wrist then, tugging you until you almost straddle him over those sheets. You gasp at it, at how his hand brushes across your shoulder.

“Let him mark your perfect fucking skin?” He demands in a scratchy, husky voice, shocking you so much you blink, leaning back. You’re far too close to his hard length you feel under those sheets, against your inner thigh.

“Are you having some weird dream? Sukuna, it’s me…” You say your name, but he hears nothing with the blood rushing in his own ears, as he eyes that damn mark Toji left on your pretty shoulder. His thumb brushes it, while he pictures leaving marks everywhere. “Sukuna?”

He tugs you closer, until you’re sprawled over him, and he’s too fucking tired to stop it, to stop how badly he wants you - the girl he shouldn’t but can’t fucking help but want over anyone. You have no clue, he sees it in your shocked gaze, when he eyes your other shoulder, pristine and free from any marks.

“Did you like it, brat?” He asks softly, you don’t know what to say at that moment, you just look at him, at his lidded eyes and parted lips.

What do you say to that?

“Would you be mad if I did? I’m a grown up, y’know that?” He scoffs then, huge hand slipping up your bare spine, watching as your eyes flutter shut. “Sukuna…”

“Can’t answer, brat?”

“What’re you even doing in here?” You tug back a bit, but he just drags you back down, and soon you find yourself completely straddling him - Sukuna, your enemy, your… what is he exactly?

tagsss- @sukubusss @yamadramallamaqueen @quinny23 @flowerymenendez @valleydolli @gradmacoco @lolliibunny @chosolover32 @tiredasiandaughter @nanam1nz @sukunabish @valentinegab3 @heichouaack @throwmethroughawindow @mizuwki @omkookie @lemonadesforsale @dannaya @maybe-a-bi-witch @fl4weriesworld @karvokr @pillkits @yummycastiel @fl4weriesworld @kitty-yaps @kitassecretgf @deathrye @musiclover2119 @goldenfawnwriting @sttaejoon-blog @lil-cinn @keiiate @sageosimps @paradisestarfishh @ohohostinkyyyyy @blitziwitch @b0nez9 @sukunaforlife @mihauh @gojodickbig @ashlantismorning @erenspersonalwh0re @uncertainlyours @t4ters @msniks @seellove @lnette04 @salemsays66 @chxngminji @poopooindamouf

[thalwri]

STICKY N' WET

synopsis: your agitating ex tries to disrupt your peace again, but he doesn't realise sylus is around. and neither of you realise that your working together to finally get rid of your ex would bring you much closer.

warnings: heavy smut, dry humping, strip tease, riding, creampies, shower sex, couch sex, petnames (kitten, sweetie, sweetheart), squirting, messy and very wet

wc: 5,6k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“where are you off to, kitten?”

you turned on your heel, seconds away from fuming. “i told you to stop calling me that.” 

there had been incessant knocking torturing your door to your apartment. somehow you’ve been letting sylus stay in your place for weeks on end while he occasionally disappeared to the n109 zone for his usual business.

between your tether to him being more intense than usual, and the recent events you’d been going through, you couldn’t tell whether you were grateful for his presence or felt more at peace when he wasn’t around for a brief time.

it had been five minutes. you wouldn’t really think that the knocking was bad but realistically if someone knocked at your door without a break and did it very loudly even without a response, then that would be concerning.

sylus found it irritating in the least, but had the tolerance to ignore it until the relentless fool disappeared on their own. he watched you walk to the door and look into the peep hole. your breath hitched as you stumbled back, covering your mouth with both hands before quickly dropping them to your sides.

“what is it?”

“my ex.” your voice dropped to a monotone line, your body still on the door in front of you. sylus groaned, pinching his brows but he had to admit he wasn’t surprised.

your break up wasn’t revolutionary and chaotic so to speak, but it wasn’t peaceful either. he had been there for you through the process, he didn’t even have to calm you down so he had thought you’d breeze through it and give him more of your attention.

until you started crying.

apparently, the fool had gotten with another woman just weeks after your split and that broke you. so two months following that, sylus had spent his hours of quality time with you helping you recover and move on all while plotting all the crude and illegal things he could do to that insect to avenge you. 

he had thought to impale the guy with a fork, or peel off his skin with a carrot peeler, and make a stew out of him so that if anyone investigated, they’d eat the evidence. hannibal style. if he ever told you that, you would most likely be disgusted.

sylus rose to his feet in solemn silence and gently moved you away from the door. “i’ll handle it, kitten.”

“sylus–“

“i’ll handle it.” the depth his voice had lowered to was an instant indication that you could no longer try to interfere. whatever he was about to do, you could only pray it wasn’t going to get him arrested.

you turned away, pinching the corners of your eyes as the door opened for sylus to be greeted by yelling.

“what took you so long to answer– who are you?”

“the owner of this apartment. who in this bereft city are you?” well, being the owner, so to speak, was a lie. technically you owned it– but sylus began to actually live and function there more than you had in the last few months.

just looking at the bastard in person began to irk him. sylus wholeheartedly believed you could do far better than you had but he knew better than to lose his chances of being especially close to you by questioning your judgement. he was not interested in fighting you for your attention for he knew that you truly were drawn to him.

how could you not be attracted to each other especially after all you’ve gone through together?

sylus looked your ex up and down in disgust and scoffed out a laugh. “what are you doing here? this is the last time i’ll ask.”

“where is my girlfriend?” your ex grumbled, attempting to look over sylus’ body by standing on the tips of his toes. you intuitively stepped back before you stopped. would you really let this happen over and over again? being tormented like this?

not again.

“she’s not–“ sylus began to ball his hands into fists as he spoke before you held him to calm him down.

“it’s okay,” you gave him a grateful smile, patting his chest for him to step back. “i told you to stop calling and coming to my apartment.”

“i just wanted to talk–“ 

“you lost your chance, so do me a favour and screw yourself to another planet before i feed you to the fucking wanderers. we’re over. for a reason. and here’s no turning back from that. so leave.”

“but–“

“out.”

“no, i–“

the sound of a gun– your gun– cocked, you felt a tall figure looming over you oozing murderous energy. sylus aimed the gun directly at your ex’s head.

“you heard my woman,” he snarled, trying his best to hide his prideful smirk. you felt your ears warm. look at you, standing on your own feet against vermin-like that ex of yours. “get out.”

“who do you think you are?” your ex scoffed, sorely attempting to push out his chest to seem confident. 

“he is my boyfriend,” you stepped forward, pushing your ex back by pointing your finger at him with each statement you make until he’s out of the doorway. “he is my man, he is what matters to me now, and you are nothing to me. so get out and stay out of my life before i kill you with my bare hands.”

and with that, you slam the door shut, locking the door quickly. you leaned against the door, catching empty air while your heart rate slowed down from the nerves. you heard sylus chuckle and put your gun down.

“that was impressive, sweetie.” you groaned in your hands, intentionally avoiding his gaze. you called him your boyfriend. your man. and he called you his woman. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that nice to say, but still!

“look at me,” his voice, both soothing and arousing compelled you to listen to him. you removed your hands from your eyes and looked sylus in the eye.

“i suppose you’re satisfied.” you sighed in exhaustion, you felt so drained from talking to that ex of yours. a snack would be doing wonders at this time.

“i’m proud of you,” he smiled– a rarity from sylus but fully appreciated nonetheless. “standing your ground, defending your privacy, referring to me as your man–“

“you’re terrible,” you choked out a laugh, slapping his abdomen. 

“i’m divine, kitten, and you know it.”

you weren’t going to deny that. especially after being trapped in his homestead, after getting to know him, along with seeing a great many parts of him. he was an attractive man, that was undeniable. 

his wit, intelligence, and sense of control during missions and operations within onychinus and how he spends time with you are all things you’d grown to admire about him. you adored him and felt rather enamoured by the things he does. the things he does to you.

within the last month, you’d seen him in ways that you should have deemed inappropriate. watching exit the shower, water dripping down the lines of his abdomen and disappearing within the towel wrapped around his waist. with his grey lashes holding small droplets above his deliciously terrifying crimson eyes of his.

how his chest always looked larger every time you saw him, or how you’d intentionally bend down with your ass in the air when he was within your proximity. something at the time you thought as harmless. but now you’re standing before him and you felt a new wave of need.

whether it was from what he said or the fact that he was ready to kill for you, you didn’t know. but now you were feeling restless.

“sylus,”

he breathed out your name in response, almost as though he was holding in some pent in energy. you could feel energy swirling in your heart as you watched his eye twitch. the same eye that held his part of the aether core. were you resonating without touching each other?

“thank you,” you began, struggling to find your words. “for earlier.”

“anything for you, sweetie.” he stepped closer to you, making you tilt your neck slightly to meet his gaze. “including covering for your pretty ass whenever your missions went sideways because of that creature of an ex.”

you stifled a laugh through the noise of your aether tethered heart rapidly beating. watching his lips curve, purse, and move as he spoke, watching his eyes kind of lighten just from speaking with you… you just couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“you just can’t seem to take your eyes off me or stop thinking about me, can you kitten?” he smirked, placing his hand beneath your chin. “it would only be fair for me to admit i have had the same sentiment, but for much longer than i’d like to admit.”

“then do something about it,” you brashly whispered, feeling your patience wear thin. this was the closest chance you had at doing something with him without fear. “you’ve got your chance, so use it.”

“oh?” that irritating yet attractive chuckle filled the room other than whatever was playing on the tv. you could just feel your clit tingle from it. “is kitten baring her claws again?”

you gripped the collar of his dress shirt, harshly pulling him close to you– his lips less than a breath away from yours. “this kitten is baring her teeth, and telling sylus she wants him.”

that seemed to be the perfect buzzword. before you knew it, his lips had crashed into yours, his arms wrapped around your torso, and if you weren’t mistaken a short moan had escaped his lips. there was barely a moment for you to absorb the kiss, as you had already begun to peel each other’s clothing off from the jackets to the shirts and eventually the pants. 

you pushed sylus onto the couch and straddled him, his hands held the back of your thighs pushing you up more towards him as your lips danced and tugged away in both passion and desire. he dropped you onto his lap, subtly introducing you to the growing bulge beneath you. it felt so big. you gasped as he began to grind against your clothed pussy, his hands reaching for your ass and tits to fondle and squeeze.

“i want you,” sylus whispered, momentarily stopping to lock his crimson eyes on yours in seriousness. “and i have you. do you want us to continue. we’ll stop if you aren’t ready.”

you smiled in gratitude for his concern for you. “i’m ready, sylus. i’m ready for you–” before you could finish your sentence, your lips are locked in a chaste kiss, your groins meeting each other through relentless grinds and your heavy sighs and soft whines competing with the television’s noise.

you wanted to truly show sylus how much you appreciated all that he has done for you in the past month so you slowly pulled yourself away, gently pushing him back when his lips followed and rose to your feet. 

“stand up,” sylus rose without question, hiding his curiosity with a ‘hmph’. “take off your underwear.”

he raised an eyebrow, his ruby eyes glistened with excitement. “and what about you, kitten? don’t you think this is a little bit unfair?”

“i want to give you a show,” you tug at the hem of his black briefs, which had a wet spot marked around his erection. the more you looked at the shape of his cock, the more you realised just how big he was. you could feel both your mouth and pussy water at that sight alone.

“i think i’m the one entertaining you right now,” in a swift move, he pulled down his briefs and kicked them aside. his cock bounced free and stood so tall and proud, his tip was reddened and shining with leaky precum leaving a mess on his lower abdomen. 

“don’t be shy,” he smirked, taking your hand in his and placing it on his cock. it was so warm and so hard, you couldn’t help yourself from stroking it. sylus closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh as you pumped his cock from the base to the tip stopping to circle your finger lightly over his slit.

“h-ha, kitten, that’s- oh,” you dragged your precum glistened finger down a large vein that travelled to the base then removed your hand. still in a slight daze from your touch, sylus didn’t hear what you said.

“i’m gonna give you a little show,” you boldly repeated, grabbing his face with a hand to give him a chaste kiss, swiping your tongue briefly across his lips before he could react. you stepped back to create some distance between the two of you to give him a bit of a sight to see. 

sylus laughed and plopped himself back onto the couch, spreading his legs to give you constant access to his throbbing, twitching, leaky cock. his hand was wrapped around the shaft, slowly stroking it as translucent drops leaked from his tip. seeing him in his nude, blatant glory brought a flood of heat rush over your body and settle in your clit– which was rudely rubbing against the fabric of your underwear.

“don’t get cold feet now, sweetie,” sylus breathed, his chest beginning to heave and sweat. you’d barely gotten to do what you wanted. 

“best you be patient.” you scoffed, unclasping your bra, slowly peeling the straps down each shoulder. you turned making your back face him and peeled off your bra and tossed it towards him. 

sylus’ hands were long gone from his hard, throbbing cock to catch your bra. he set it on his thigh, resting on the couch arms spread wide intrigued to see what else you had in store for him. “continue, kitten. my patience is wearing thin.”

you slowly turned to face him again, saving your final reveal for much later. you swayed your way back to him and sat on his lap, carefully pressing his cock against his abdomen with your body. his breath hitched at the friction from your underwear rubbing against his sensitive flesh. his warm precum began to soak your panties, but not as much as your pussy was.

you held his cock against you and adjusted your positioning so that you could ride the length of him. going back and forth against him, the raw friction of fabric against sensitive skin sent sylus into a frenzy, gripping the sides of the couch as he watched you basically dry hump him when he should be deep inside you.

“kitten,” he gritted, holding back a guttural groan. you responded with a lascivious moan, almost vibrating from the stimulation from just dry riding his cock. sylus’ hands flew to your hips and lifted you up with just a fraction of his strength. his cock flew back and hit his abs with a soft plap! 

“i’m growing impatient,” he lowly whispered, his eyes slowly darkening with desire and arousal. he was in no position to play along with you anymore. he was ready to fuck you good. “so i’m going to ask you again. are you ready for us to continue?”

you ferociously nodded, holding his face in your hands engulfing him in another kiss. you invited his tongue into your mouth to explore and savour you, occasionally greeting it with your own. as you felt yourself sinking into the kiss, you felt your pantie get moved aside before a long finger slid into you. you gasped momentarily before sylus caught your lips again, swallowing your eventual moan as his finger curled inside you.

“answer the question.”

“yes, sylus, i’m ready for you,” you panted. “i’m ready.”

and with that, sylus did not hold back further. his finger pumped into your wet pussy in slow rhythm before pushing a second in. your body trembled at the feeling, tensing as his fingers pumped deeper into you whilst curling to find that special area of yours.

“so wet,” he commented, pecking kisses along your neck. “soaking through your pretty underwear just for me. imagine how much harder i’m getting just from watching you.”

you didn’t even think it was possible for that to happen. a third finger slid in right as you were about to respond, pulling a deep moan out of you. being stretched out like this was not new, but with sylus it gave a more delicious sting.

“don’t squirm, sweetie,” he purred, curving all three digits in you again. “this is necessary if you want my cock to fit in well without hurting you.”

you couldn’t say much other than nod. getting so mindless over his fingers was worrying. what would his cock feel like? 

sylus slowly removed his fingers, watching how your slick nectar connected to each one before slowly licking it off one of his fingers whilst locking his eyes on you. such an erotic tease. he rubbed his other– still slick– fingers on your lips, painting them in your wetness. you slowly opened your mouth and leaned your head forward to take his fingers in.

“fuck,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch at the sight. he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth, watching your tongue clean him up slipping and swirling around him. he just imagined what it would be like to fuck your pretty mouth until you were drooling with his cum.

“me,”

“what?”

“fuck me, sylus.” you gave him a look of determination and need. that was all he had to hear. a loud rriiiiiip snapped you out of your daze, and a light draft fanned at your ass. 

“sylus!”

“hmm?” he smiled, pulling off your now shredded underwear from your body.

“that was my favourite set!” you pouted, even though you were heavily attracted to that move from him.

“you know i’ll get you new ones,” sylus scoffed, moving your hips to align your pussy with the tip of his cock. he knew you were on the pill. how? he accompanied you to get them and pestered you whenever you forgot. he adored you but he also cared immensely for your wellbeing.

“i love that you wore that set today,” he grinned looking up at you and pecked your nipples before gently suckling them for a few seconds. “love the red.” he paused, wanting to ask you once more for confirmation.

you nodded before he could ask. “i’m good and ready when you are– o-oh,”

his tip prodded at your entrance and was welcomed with slick warmth sucking him into you. he stopped half way in, slowly breathing to be accustomed to the feeling of your pussy clamping on his cockhead so tightly he almost came on the spot. you had let out a gasp at the feeling, clutching his shoulders with your nails.

“are you alright?” he asked. beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. you nodded. “let’s continue.”

slowly, you sank down onto him swallowing his cock, intentionally squeezing him to watch him squirm and moan from your tightness. you gently laughed, giving away your teasing which sylus quickly caught onto. he scoffed out a laugh and bucked his hips up to yours, ramming the rest of his cock into you with just a bit still outside. 

you moaned from the instantaneous move, barely recovering from it when that evil grey haired man began to thrust into you, pulling his cock in and out gradually increasing his pace. your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you tried to follow his pace, riding him to meet his hips whenever he thrusted up into you.

“oh fuck, kitten your pussy is so tight,” he moaned, pushing deeper and harder into you. your eyes crossed feeling like he reached a spot you didn’t realise existed. “must have hit your g-spot, hm? oh, baby you feel so good around me”

you could barely respond, overwhelmed by the new wave of pleasure you were receiving. hearing his sexy noises while fucking his cock into you was bringing you faster to your climax than your vibrator ever had. and all so quickly too. but it seemed he was also drawing near to cumming too.

“just– ah, fuck– so tight!” he could barely swallow his whines as your hips meet faster and harder. “that tight pussy’s about to make me cum, kitten. g-gosh fuck me– you see what you do to me?”

rendered speechless, you could only nod. and it only took a few more thorough thrusts before you spasmed all over his cock, throwing your head back as you climaxed. just seconds after, a gush of hot, cum flowed into your pussy, making you so weak in the knees you couldn’t move. sylus fuck his cum into you, moaning your name. 

despite that brief finish, you both knew you wanted more.

“again,” his voice rumbled in demand. you rasped your agreement, about to move when an idea came to your mind. 

“sylus,”

“mm.”

“let’s go to the shower.”

he looked up at you with a raised brow. “you feel dirty already? kitten, we’ve barely started.”

“no, you crow,” you smacked his large chest in irritation. “i mean, let’s continue in the shower.”

sylus momentarily paused, blankly staring at you. you always wondered what went through his mind when he did that. in that instance, he rose to his feet carrying you while his cock was still lodged in your pussy. not only that, he was still alarmingly hard despite cumming already, 

“you didn’t think i’d be done after such a small round, did you?” he grinned. “we’re just getting started.” you didn’t know whether to be afraid or dangerously aroused more than before.

you went through your bedroom to your bathroom, where sylus eventually set you to your feet. his cum began to slowly ooze out of you, travelling down your legs and painting them in the evidence of the mess that would have been made on your couch.

the bathroom began to steam slightly as the water ran. a large hand was held out for you– sylus offering it for you to join him. as you entered, your lips were immediately occupied with his, tied in a dance of need and insatiable greed that only the two of you could soothe for each other.

“you’re so perfect, sylus,” you sighed on his lips. “you’ve always been so great, such an amazing person in my life.” you kissed him again. “just want to show you how grateful i am for you.”

“you already have,” he pecked your cheeks. “just by being in my life.”

your kisses, gradually intensified as you touched each other, stimulating your needs before sylus gently moved you against the glass wall of the shower and picked you up hooking your legs over his shoulders and pressing your weight on the glass to keep you in place.

he gently lowered you back into him, instantly filling you up with his cock again. each time felt like it had gotten thicker. sylus regained proper footing on the wet tiles, slowly thrusting up into you before his pace quickened, going faster and harder until your pretty tits bounced from the sheer force of being fucked against the glass shower wall. 

and that wasn’t near how fast he planned to plough your sweet pussy. he had so much more in store for you. so much he’d been waiting to do. control was no longer a word in his vocabulary.

“ooh, just– fuck– just– just like that sy– so good!” you hiccuped, gripping onto his hair with one hand and scratching his nape with the other. 

through the fog, you could see your reflection, his back muscles flexing and shining in sweat along with the heat, his light grey hair flattened and drenched sticking to his flushed skin, his lips so tantalisingly close to your ear, huffing out praises and moans all while nibbling at your flesh.

“how are you still so tight, kitten?” he purred, pounding into you like his life depended on it. his hands tightly gripped your thighs indenting marks onto them, another sign of him marking his territory. “gonna fuck you so deep ‘n paint you with my cum.”

thrust after thrust his cock travelled deeper and deeper into you than it had earlier, pounding your weeping cunt so much that the squelches from a mixture your slick wetness and his cum became louder than the sound of your shower. sylus slowly pulled his cock back until his cockhead peeked out then slammed himself back up into you, finding that carnal spot of yours again. your eyes instantly crossed upon the impact, ripping a raw cry from deep within your throat.

“you sound like music,” he groaned, you could feel him smiling against your neck as he licked and suckled multiple rude, disrespectful bruises onto your skin. marking you as his and his alone for all of linkon and the n109 to see. “beautiful melody for just me to hear, sweetie.” he drew back and pulled out of you slowly and thrust clean into you once more before setting you down to the floor. 

you wasted no time grabbing his shoulders and pulled him into a lustful, needy kiss, engulfing him in your adoration and enticement. he occasionally nipped your lower lip, groaning at the feeling of your hand creeping down his abdomen to stroke his neglected, twitching cock. it was drenched and leaking with precum again, as if there would never be an end to how much he could stuff you and cover you with it. the warm water pelted your skin, making you hotter and more breathless as the seconds went by. 

“i’m going to give you everything you could ever want in this life,” he struggled to say whilst attempting to hold back the noises boiling deep in his chest. “my life, my heart, and my soul is yours, sweetheart.”

within an instant, you found your front pressed against the glass with your hands held behind your back. his lips grazed you ear, whispering his need for you as his warm cock circled your entrance, sliding up and down from the curve of your ass to his tip poking your aching clit.

“sylus,” you shivered, leaning back to rest on him before you lost balance– or even consciousness. you couldn’t tell how long you had been going on for anymore, and frankly you couldn’t care less. the tether between the two of you had wrapped so strongly that you couldn’t spend a second not being on each other.

“yes?” his hand gently tapped your chin so you could turn your face to him. he pecked the corner of your lip and rammed himself back into you without warning, forcing out a loud moan through your lips. those rough, and crude thrusts pounded through your tight, needy cunt, which was squeezing around his girth as much as possible. body pressed against the glass, the reflection of your fucked out face with sylus dazed and so drunk in your pussy made you clench harder.

“fuck, my– fuck,” his hips began to stutter and his cock throbbed in warning. the shower wall began to shake from the continuous impact of your bodies slamming together, clapping and squelching as if you just couldn’t be any closer. “if you squeeze again– oh, kitten, i’m going to fill you to the brim.”

he sunk his teeth deep into your flesh sending jolts of new pleasure down your spine, making you both moaning messes. his hands travelled around your body until his dominant hand settled on your abandoned clit to rub and swirl, and the other attacking your nipples– fondling and pinching them with greed to force out your most animalistic nature. your back arched helping you buck yourself into his hips, wanting to feel so much more of him, even though he had already abused your g-spot so much.

you sobbed and whined, singing praises to sylus for what he was doing to get you so horny for him. “keep fucking me like that, sy- fuck, please!” your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to hold onto him to stop yourself from collapsing. if it wasn’t his cock poking your cervix at this point, it was a sign that you were reaching your limit. “give me– can’t think– give it to me!”

neither of you could think that much, really. with you being so hypnotised and enamoured by his huge cock while he drowned and was drunk in your pussy, there wasn’t much to question. you both had a synonymous goal.

“gonna give it to you, kitten,” sylus seethed while licking your skin in ferocious lust, all he wanted and needed was to feel and taste you so he would do just that.

he felt so good inside your delectable pussy, loved how you tightened around him. he wanted to just cum on the spot, over and over and fuck you in every nook and cranny of your apartment then in each and every one of the properties he owned. he didn’t want to stop until every room you two entered was left smelling of cum and sex. who would he be to not desire such pleasure with someone as beautiful, powerful, and sexy as you?

“look at us, sweetie,” he huffed, momentarily stopping to push his cock as deeply into you as possible, completely bottoming out inside of you until all that would be seen was his balls flush against your pussy. he took long, deep, malicious strokes into you, the glass wall threatening to topple over. “look at yourself while i fuck you good, while i stuff my cock right into you.”

your eyes landed on your reflection but you couldn’t help yourself from watching him reduce you to slutty putty. making you feel like such a needy slut for his cock and his hot, thick cum.

“so pretty,” he moaned, throwing his head back. he could feel his orgasm nearing, his body was beginning to falter. “so definitely mine.” 

the perverted reflection of you fucking yourself on his cock while he simultaneously bucked into you had taken you over the edge. your eyes rolled back and your jaws loosened as your body stilled. you let out a hoarse cry as you unfolded, tightly gripping onto him as you became undone, cumming around his cock, your walls squeezing and fluttering around him causing a wave of cum to fill you alongside his thrusts. 

you were so full already that his cum leaked out your pussy in spurts, dripping down your legs and hitting the walls. another wave washed over you, and you could feel so much spurting out of you, spraying the wall and dripping down your bodies. you paused, still feeling sylus rutting his cum into you from behind. 

you squirted. and he had quickly realised it too, from how his pace quickened again. you had felt his cock grow much harder even though he already came.

“fuck, you made such a mess kitten, wanna make you do it again,” he panted, pinching his eyes shut. “gonna fuck you so good, you squirt over and over.”

you still couldn’t understand how he got so hard so quickly but your pussy wasn’t done being fucked just yet. he quickly pulled himself out, his cock slapping against his abdomen still spurting out thick globs of cum. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder and bottomed out deep into you again, with a whole new angle. you both groaned at the feeling, your pussy being stretched by the curve of his depth, creaming and fluttering on it before he could thoroughly fuck you again.

he didn’t waste another second viciously stimulating your clit with his fingers while his cock aggressively drove into you, slapping your skin against his in a quickened rhythm. it didn’t take much before your poor, soaked cunt squeezed you into another orgasm, creaming a white ring around his base. you screamed, feeling a rush of pleasure force out an intense round of your nectar going everywhere onto your abdomen and his, ultimately making you squirt for the second time tonight. 

you felt another gush of cum stuff your pussy as a whimper left sylus’ lips. you couldn’t help but love the fact that he got off just from you squirting. and that got you so much hornier, so needy to do more. but you doubted if your body was capable of handling that. you felt his cock slowly soften as you came down from your highs. he muttered something about wanting to stay inside you a bit longer, and you allowed it, also not wanting to be separated from him being in you just yet. maybe it was the aether cores keeping you attached.

moments passed as you both recovered from your orgasms, resting on each other, whispering praises, and kissed each other in dazed exhaustion. the running water rinsed away most of the cum and slick from your bodies, leaving the rest to be cleaned off once you were both ready.

“that was beautiful,” you murmured as you pulled away from his lips. sylus rested his forehead on yours, still trying to regain his breath. he reached to make the water slightly colder.

“you did so well,” he smiled. “i’m glad i was patient.”

as you began to clean each other up, as exhausted as you were, you felt satisfied. and at peace. sylus was a good ally and companion of yours but from the way things are looking now, you’re more than happy to take things much further.

a/n: I literally started playing lads a few days ago and OMG LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ITS SOO GOOD

[yeagersss]

Sukuna x f!Reader

In which Sukuna brings home child Uraume — 1

next —>

You rubbed your eyes in disbelief as you stared at the child hiding behind your husband's legs and peaking at you.

Sukuna didn't pay attention to your questioning stare, he simply sauntered in to your shared home and tossed the meat he had hunted on the table. As if it was just an average day for the two of you.

Except it wasn't because there was a child right next to him.

"Um... Love?" You questioned softly.

"What?" He grunted.

"Mind telling me who... that is?"

Sukuna crossed his upper arms while resting his lower on his hips. He shrugged. "Our ice house is no more. This child can create ice so I brought them home."

Of course he did. Leave it to your husband to replace an actual functioning cooler with a literal child.

Speaking of a cooler...

"The icehouse is broken? I swear it was perfectly fine when I went there this morning..." You mused.

But a quick glance outside the window confirmed that it was indeed broken. Crushed by a tree and blood splattered everywhere from the meat stored inside of it.

And just one look at the fallen tree, you can tell what—no, who was responsible for this destruction. There was a large, clean cut right at its base.

You turned to your husband with an accusing frown but he opted to not look at you. He knows that the moment he locked eyes with you, he'll have to face your wrath and.... He'd rather not.

You sighed and shook your head before walking over to the child who stepped away from you the moment you got closer.

You stopped, keeping your distance and smiled kindly. "It's okay. Don't be afraid, little one. I won't hurt you."

Your voice was soft, your eyes were kind so when the child looked up at Sukuna and saw the way he was looking at you, they knew you were trustworthy.

And yet...

"You won't harm me but... I can harm you." Was what the child spoke.

Your heart sank at their words and the way they looked away. Their gaze was an empty and distant void. This poor child...

But the King of Curses scoffed at their words. "Go to her. As long as I am here you cannot harm her."

You were surprised at how this child had came to trust Sukuna that they took his word and slowly stepped over to you. Besides you, no one else in this land would ever dare trust him. Then again, your husband never gave them a reason to.

You went down on your knees to be at the child's level. A small, loving smile graced your features as you reached over to brush your fingers against their cheek.

Ice cold.

But that didn't stop you as you brushed their hair in comfort. "You poor thing... Just what have you been through?" You asked softly.

The child kept quiet, their eyes gathered with unshed tears. They closed it to stop them from flowing down. And then, very very tentatively they leaned into your touch.

"...You're warm." They mumbled.

Your heart warmed at those soft words. You were happy that this child had found comfort in you.

Despite being the King of Curses' wife, you loved children. You always wanted one of your own. You had even managed to convince your husband to have a child together.

But those dreams were far gone when you found out you were infertile.

It took a while but you had gotten over it. Though part of you still wished that you can have that. A small family with your husband.

So when you looked up at Sukuna, that's when you noticed his gaze. A look that was only reserved for you. Tender, soft and... loving. But there was another meaning behind it...

This is my gift to you.

Your heart leaped and you felt tears gathering in your eyes. The smile you gave him was nothing short of radiant that had him looking away from you. But you knew he was flustered just from the red tint on the tip of his ears.

You laughed softly and got on your feet, gently pulling the child close to you. "What's your name, little one?"

"Uraume."

You hummed. "Uraume... What a beautiful name. Are you hungry, Uraume?"

Uraume felt their stomach grumble just then so they softly nodded.

"Very well, then I'll get started on dinner."

Uraume looked up at you, their pinkish eyes staring at you with a curious glint. "Can I help?" They asked.

You smiled, running a gentle hand through their white hair.

"Of course."

next —>

[no-144444]

i love love your writing i probably binged some of them haha! i was wondering if you can write smth about their partner having intense baby fever. i was thinking you can do oscar or ollie or the whole grid, really up to you ❤️

꩜ summary: you say something, and it tips his world upside down

꩜ pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

꩜ a/n: thanks for requesting!

Family functions weren’t exactly Oscar’s forte, but you made them bearable. Kids running around, adults too drunk to remember to hold their tongues, and you and Oscar, usually sat in the corner of the garden on kid duty. You were wonderful at it, listening intently, sorting out arguments in seconds, all while holding onto one of Nicole’s friends daughter’s 5 month old baby. He’d tried to take her off your hands, but she’d started crying immediately. He watched in awe, totally enchanted by you. 

“We should have a kid,” you said, as casual as anything. His world tipped on its side. Yeah, maybe he thought about it occasionally. Like in those moments when you’re so wonderful with Penelope, or his own family, or Lando’s nieces and nephews, or maybe in those moments when you know exactly what to say to anyone to calm them down, or often those moments when he was balls-deep inside of you seconds away from cumming. “What do you think?” you turned to look at him with that innocent ‘I didn’t just give you a boner and make you want to cry at the same time’ look. He turned his attention back to the park in front of you both, Family Fun Day in full swing. 

“I’d like that,” his voice was a pitch too high and he coughed despite himself. “I mean- yeah. I think we should. Affirmative,” he felt like he’d passed out and woken up with his hand on his forehead, ready to salute. You chuckled and leaned against his shoulder, his cheeks already a bright shade of red. The baby in your arms wriggled, but it didn’t faze you. None of it seemed to. 

“You’re such a dork,” you chuckled, then you were quiet for a moment, soaking it all in. The garden in front of you, littered with kids of all ages, and you couldn’t help but think of you and Oscar with your own little hoard of kids who looked exactly like you two. You watched as he helped out one of the girls, she’d fallen and hurt her knee, and he sat her on the remaining space on the bench between you, and played ‘I-spy’ until she felt good enough to go back out there. “You’ll be a great dad though.” 

Again, his world flipped on its side. He cleared his throat, shocked that even after years of being together, you could still make him feel like this. He took a deep breath. It was the fact that it was definitive. Not ‘you would’ be a good dad. You will be a good dad. No questions asked. “You’ll be a great mum.”

“I hope so,” you answered dreamily. “Some little toddler running around looking like us.”

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven when he thought about that. Mornings with you, sunlight streaming in, a little girl or boy who had your eyes and his hair or vice versa, babbling away while he helped you make a morning coffee, and helped them with homework, or reading, or anything they’d ever want. It pulled at his heart more than he’d want to admit. “Yeah,” he smiled. “That’d be nice.”

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

[shortfeather]

Comm anon here. The fic I'm writing is more basic outline and ideas that I'm too afraid to write because I feel if I do the characterization slightly wrong I will get truck by the permadeath lightning.

Speaking of characterization how do you do it so well? Like with my own characters I'm fine but with things that are not my own I suck. Like the closest thing to a good character analysis is the time in English class where I ended up psychoanalylizing the protaganist on how his daddy issues and orphanhood affected his current attitude. And I refuse to write fanfic of British dudes in the 1600's who are checking out the Americas.

This is a cry for help.

...ok so fun thing about characters: you can justify them doing pretty much anything, any time.

and you don't have to do it with character choices! if you really need a character to do something that they would never do unless it's in the most specific, desperate circumstance - you can make that circumstance a reality. Worldbuilding and outside influence are your friends here.

For example: Tango wasn't supposed to be able to explode. But he's very good about denying when something is wrong, specifically when it involves him taking a break from his builds, and I needed him to realize that something was wrong with him in "check my head." so I decided, well, if parts of his code that shouldn't come through are coming through, that'll get his attention. And then I had to figure out what would reasonably get his attention, as well as get resident "don't worry about it" twins Pearl and Grian concerned for Tango's own health.

So now he can explode.

The thing is, though, that trick works best when it's used sparingly. If you're consistently getting your characters into insanely specific situations to force the reaction you need to be in character, well, that will unfortunately turn stale after a while. Which is where the other part comes in: thinking about how they would react, basically all the time forever.

Literally, so much of my non-writing time is just passively thinking "how would X react to this situation? What if Y was there? What if I tried to get to point Z via B instead of A?" And I do it so much that for a few years now, it's been my writing process.

I think of a premise (what if Jimmy ate a gapple in Double Life to try and save Tango) and I think of a couple cool points that could come up (the glitch in Double Life immediately after, how the issue would manifest when they're in different servers, a couple other things that we're gonna get to later), and then I go, okay, so how do I get my characters to react in ways that will let me hit those points?

And for that, you start at the beginning. With the characters I want in this story - Lizzie, Jimmy, Tango, and Grian - how would they react to the inciting incident? How would they react to the fallout? Is that going the way I want it to? In Grian's case, it wasn't - I needed someone who could find the same information Grian had access to but would react completely differently. It's obviously not in character to have Grian react completely differently, so I gave fWhip a POV, and thought about his reactions to the points I already knew I wanted to hit, and tweaked things accordingly.

When you do it this way, you get characters who drive the plot, rather than being yanked along by it. And, with a bit of practice, you get characters who are consistent because your writing process is psychoanalyzing them to map the path forwards you most want to take.

[moonwoodhollow]

Zora Ceramics - a cc lot by moonwoodhollow This lot has been in the making for over a year and was originally born from the pottery room I posted back in March 2024. While it was merely a deco room I've always hoped that I could turn it functional someday and I'm so happy it's finally possible. I hope you'll enjoy this version as well - now finally as it was always intended with an unfurnished home for 2-4 sims as well.

More screenshots, info + download link under the cut!

So what do you get?

Zora Ceramics is a 20x15 lot best placed in Nordhaven in the Gammelvik neighbourhood on the Old Torget House lot. The lot is currently set as a residential lot. With the new pack, you could combine it as a residential/business lot. The lot consists of one pottery studio with separate access and a family home comprising 3 floors. There are 2 bedrooms on the 3rd floor, one of them has an ensuite bathroom.

building background

As I mentioned, this lot was born out of a pottery room I posted about a year ago for a story (that is on indefinite hiatus). Back then I added the pottery room as an addition to a gorgeous lot by @catsaar called Aisling House. It's a stunning lot for Henford-on-Bagley and if you haven't downloaded it, do it! It also served as the inspiration for the courtyard on this lot. While I saved the room separately and placed it on a new lot, the game still considers this lot as catsaar's lot and I hope it's okay for me to share it as it is!

Uses items from the following packs: looks best with almost all packs. But a tip: take a look at the build in the gallery and click on the packs to see the items I used from that pack, it might also look good with fewer packs.

Download: google drive (222mb) | and up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you’ll need the cc from the drive folder)

Is the cc included? yes.

-> The game will likely tell you 2 items are missing, they're not.

TOU: Please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the building, I’d love to see it in your games.

If you like what I do and want to show your appreciation, I have a ko-fi!

[kingkaisen]

ALONE || SATORU G.

♡ — SUMMARY: Yuji goes to Satoru for relationship advice, not knowing that the only love his teacher has ever known has been lost forever.

♡ — CONTENT: angst, mentions of reader’s death/dying during childbirth.

♡ — WC: 1.1k

“Are you busy?”

Yuji’s worrisome voice caught Satoru’s attention. The white-haired man, who sat on an outdoor bench, lost in thought, curiously looked up at the teenager standing in front of him.

“Hm?” Satoru paused. “Nope, I’m not busy at all. Something wrong?”

When Yuji didn’t answer immediately — his brown eyes glaring at the concrete ground as a telltale sign that something was bothering him — Satoru nodded at the empty spot on the bench, inviting him to sit.

Without hesitation, Yuji sat down and slumped over.

“I’m having girl problems.”

“Oh?” Satoru raised his eyebrows. “Do you need pads or-”

“Hey! Not like that,” with a frown, Yuji buried his face in his hands, the tips of his ears turning red from utter embarrassment.

Coming to his teacher for advice in general was humiliating enough for him, but he couldn’t imagine that anyone else would have been able to help him out.

Satoru was one of the very few people he knew who seemed to think about life outside of being a jujutsu sorcerer and could potentially offer him some advice.

“There’s a girl I’m interested in. I really like her, ya know? But I’m not sure how I should ask her out. I wanted to go see Human Earthworm 3 with her, but Nobara said that most girls aren’t into stuff like that. But if I ask her to see a chick flick, then what if she gets mad at me for assuming she’d wanna see that stuff because she’s a girl? But if I ask her to pick a movie, then it might seem like I’m putting pressure on her to make all the important decisions because I don’t care enough or something. What should I do?”

Satoru smiled softly. Looking at his dear student was like looking at his own reflection. Years ago, he too was a teenager, frustrated and flustered over a girl.

“Well, there are a bunch of movies that aren’t chick flicks or creepy films that you could take her to see. You could suggest three films and have her pick one. That way, it shows that you care, but you don’t make the mistake of assuming what she’d like. Also, I’d recommend going to dinner after the movie instead of before, that way you both have something to talk about.”

Yuji glanced up at his blindfolded teacher and blinked, taking in the valuable advice.

“Right! Good idea!” Breaking out into a smile, Yuji said, “I knew I made the right decision by asking you!”

“You sure did. I’m an expert, you know.”

Yuji laughed softly. Suddenly, the upturned corners of his mouth slowly fell into a frown, and his eyebrows furrowed as a thought crossed his mind.

“Hey,” Yuji turned his head to face Satoru, his eyes squinting from the afternoon sunlight. “You’re not really an expert, are you? I’ve never seen you with anyone before. Are you in a secret relationship or something? What goin’ on?”

A gentle, sad smile graced Satoru’s face, his voice soft and tender as he spoke. “Nope, I’m all alone.”

“Oh.” Yuji dropped his gaze to his red shoes. “Wait a minute, what about that one lady you went to go see?”

“What lady?”

“Uh . . .” Scratching his cheek awkwardly, the teenager mumbled, “I kinda overheard you telling Nanamin that you were gonna buy flowers on your way to see . . . uh . . . I think her name was Y/N. That was about a week ago. What about her?”

Typically, Satoru wasn’t the sort of person to find himself at a loss for words. But, right now, his mind, body, and soul seemed to have disconnected, caused by a broken spirit.

He was quiet only for a moment, but it was long enough for Yuji to innocently look up at him with great concern.

A lump formed in Satoru’s throat, but he spoke anyway.

If there was one thing he excelled at, it was being able to function through his pain. He had years of experience with that sort of thing.

“You misunderstood. That’s what you get for eavesdropping,” Satoru suddenly removed his blindfold, ignoring the ache in his head when he did so. He brought the soft black fabric to his lips, and gently kissed it. You had given it to him. “Y/N was someone I was in love with. I met her when I was around your age. She died five years ago, and I was getting flowers before heading to her grave.”

“Oh man, that sucks. I’m really sorry,” A flash of guilt washed over Yuji’s innocent face. “I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” Satoru interrupted, locking eyes with his student. “It’s not like it’s a big secret or anything.”

The soft buzz of insects bouncing around in the nearby grass filled the silence as the sky darkened, the sun kissing the world goodbye. Satoru’s eyes flickered down to Yuji’s fidgeting hands, his fingers toying with the sleeve of his hoodie as he stared at the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru questioned. He knew his student all too well and could tell that the younger boy was biting his tongue, quite both figuratively and literally.

“I was just wondering . . . how did she die? If that’s an okay thing to ask. You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t wanna. But I won’t lie, I’m curious, ya know?”

Satoru hummed, thinking about how death was a peculiar topic that the kind sorcerer was wholesomely interested in.

“Childbirth.”

“What?” Yuji’s spikey strands of hair shifted as he whipped his head in Satoru’s direction, eyes widening. “Seriously? That’s . . . I thought . . .”

“You thought she might have died in battle?” Satoru placed his blindfold back on, not to ease his aching eyes, but so Yuji wouldn’t see the tears starting to brim in his reddened waterline. “Sometimes we forget that sorcerers can die in other situations as well, don’t we?”

“Yeah.” Yuji didn’t know if it was okay to ask another question or not. Satoru spoke with misery coating his words. But curiosity was a thirst that couldn’t be easily quenched. “What was she like?”

A heartbroken smile graced Satoru’s face.

“Well, she was shyer than most. Kind. A good person. It was pretty funny, because she could kill curses and take down enemies, but she was always too nervous to ask for oat milk instead of whole milk in her lattes whenever we’d go to a local coffee shop. And she was lactose intolerant too, but still wouldn’t ask. She was a hugger, but really only towards me. Couldn’t stand pollen. Loved watching TV and reading short romance stories about fictional characters. She was so . . . I loved her more than I can express with words.” Satoru had to clear his throat. “I wish I could say she died peacefully, but she looked scared. Died right in front of me . . . trying to deliver my kid.”

Satoru thought about your teary, bloodshot eyes, shining with fear as you held on to him while lying helplessly in a hospital bed.

He was stroking your hair, telling you that everything would be okay when the light left your gaze, and suddenly, you were nothing more than a corpse.

Yuji was silent, but Satoru knew what his next question would have been: did the child survive?

“My kid didn’t make it either.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuji mumbled. “I wish I could fix it. I wish there was something I could do. But . . . I hope you find love again someday.”

“I don’t.” As Satoru spoke, a single tear fell. “If it’s not with her, I don’t want it. I’d rather be alone.”

🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @insomniacbehaviour @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @thewondrousdreamer @levisfavoriteteashop @preciousamethyst @irisveinn @iwanttohitmyself @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace

[bitchface24-7]

Could I request smut headcanons for Arcane Viktor, Jayce, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko reacting to his female s/o accidentally turning him on please?

HEADCANON - ACCIDENTALLY TURNING THEM ON

ft. Viktor, Jayce, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko

synopsis: you didn't mean to. Honestly! You weren't doing anything special, anything intentionally, it just… kind of happened? It’s not your fault your boys are obsessed with you!

warnings: accidental teasing, purposeful teasing, banter, semi-public sex, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), dry humping, thigh/ass kink, wearing his clothes, praise, degradation, cumming in pants, squirting, marking, smoking, argument (not between R or the boys, some random dude), voice kink, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f

p.s. Thanks for being the first request for headcanons! A few of these characters I haven't written for before so I hope I get their characterization down. Love ya! Xoxo

VIKTOR

He's never had the biggest libido. Being so focused on his work he forgets basic necessities. Eating, sleeping, the whole shebang.

But when he does remember… oh boy you're in for a wild ride.

Literally.

You don't know what the hell happened. All you know is you went to the lab to drop off a packed lunch for Viktor. You're certain he hasn't eaten breakfast so he must be starving, even if he himself hasn't clocked it yet.

You wore a simple sun dress in your favourite colour, highlighting your beauty. Your hair was up and out of the way, and you can't t remember if you have any makeup on or not. Simple flats dawn your feet. You're comfortable.

You're insanely beautiful to Viktor.

He didn't hear you enter the lab, but he saw the lunch pail lightly drop down onto his desk, and when he lifted his gaze, all he saw was your cleavage.

Soft skin he's intimately familiar with. Skin that bruises wonderfully and that makes you gasp in a way that makes Viktor's ears warm.

He sees your mouth moving, but doesn't hear anything coming out of it. Oh your lips look so lush. So soft and biteable. Glossy too. He wonders if they taste like your favourite fruit.

Before he knows it, there's a tight feeling in his pants and his cock aches against the restricting fabric.

One thing led to another and here you are; spread out across his desk. Your panties in his pocket as he eats you out viciously. The tip of his nose, his lips, and his chin covered in your essence.

You gasp and moan at the familiar sensations. God. You two may not have a crazy sex life, but it is always mind-blowing.

You can see one of Viktor’s arms moving up and down desperately as he eats you out, he's jerking himself off as he devours you.

That realization is what sends you over the edge as you cum on Viktor’s tongue. Your thighs clench against his beautiful face and he moans brokenely into your sex. A slight whimper escapes him when he's done.

You're left panting on the desk as Viktor casually states, “Thank you for the meal. I greatly appreciated it.” as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

You laugh incredulously as he takes the lunch pail off the desk to see what you brought him.

What the fuck just happened?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

JAYCE

Jayce is a simple man. Everything about you is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. He's surprised he has enough blood in his body to keep him functioning with the amount of times you've made him hard.

This morning is no different.

Jayce wakes up alone in bed and pouts at the cold spot you left behind. There's a whisper of warmth, indicating you got up maybe ten minutes ago.

He drags his feet to the kitchen, his slippers sliding against the floor as he yawns and scratches his bare stomach.

The yawn gets caught in his throat when he sees you humming lightly in the kitchen, casually making two coffees to start your day.

Your hair is a bit messy, but that doesn't bother Jayce. It’s what your wearing that gets him.

Jayce runs hot. He always has. So when it’s time to go to bed, he takes his pyjamas off and sleeps in boxers. When he wakes up he puts the pants back on, but he was wondering where the shirt was.

It’s on you. It’s way too big, coming down to about mid-thigh on you. It’s a rich red colour with some gold embroidery. On the chest pocket is the symbol of House Talis.

You need something on the top shelf and get on your tip toes to get it as you reach up, and with that, Jayce sees the entirety of your thighs and your ass. Your underwear leaves very little to the imagination.

Jayce feels as if he got punched in the gut as all the blood in his body rushes to his dick.

He comes up behind you quietly and puts a hand on your hip, the other reaching up to grab the other mug for you. Jayce likes putting your favourite cups too high up so you have to ask for his help, it's working in his favour at the moment.

“Jayce!” you gasp, a smile painting your pretty face. He can't help but grin back at you and kiss your cheek as he places the cup down on the countertop.

You tilt your head to the side to give Jayce more room, he takes it gladly. Kissing down your neck, nipping as he goes. You moan quietly.

Your moans amp up when you feel his massive hard on rubbing against your ass incessantly, “Really?! Jayce!”

He moans out a laugh, “Don’t judge me! I can't help it, you're so beautiful.”

You turn around and kiss him properly, a hand cupping his erection, he whines into the kiss.

Your coffee is forgotten as he pins you down onto the countertop, his pyjama pants lowered just enough to release his cock.

He ruts agaisnt your clothed pussy, the underwear giving great friction for the two of you.

You can't help but moan at the feeling. Your panties are ruined with your slick and Jayce's precum. The tip of his cock bumps against your clit deliciously, and his length keeps the pleasure going.

Before you know it you're cumming, soaking your underwear, and Jayce follows suit, ruining your underwear even further.

Your thighs and ass have fingerprint-shaped bruises. They'll be there for the next few weeks.

Guess you'll have to start wearing Jayce's clothes more often…

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

STEB

Steb is a sweetheart. He's very kind and caring, if a bit quiet. He doesn't speak often, but his facial expressions and body language give him away easily.

So imagine his surprise when he wakes up with a raging hard on and you none the wiser as you continue to drift off in dream land.

His face heats up in mortification as he tries to pry you away from him. Gently detangling your bodies, in doing this, the nightgown you wear to bed has shifted as well.

Your breasts damn near spill out— wait you moved again your tits are out. A clear shot of your soft breasts and lightly pebbled nipples is all Steb can focus on. Then his gaze shifts against his will.

His eyes trail your waist, your barely covered hips and there she is. Your pussy is out and playfully saying high. Your pubes are a bit bushier than normal due to the amount of tossing and turning you do.

God you're displayed like a delicious feast and Steb wants to sink his teeth into you.

But you're sleeping, and you work long hours. He doesn't want to bother you.

So he uses your image to jerk off.

He's a bit clumsy, and he tries his best to not make noise. He's unsuccessful.

Pants, moans, and whines escape the pretty fish boy. He gets loud enough that you wake up, and what a sight he is!

Face flushed, lower lip bitten in desperation, a large hand pumping his cock, fingers deftly playing with the ridges on his shaft.

You moan lightly at the sight and Steb freezes. “Don’t stop on my account darling. I was just starting to enjoy the show.”

Steb’s face erupts into a bright red as a shuddery moan escapes him. You bite your lip at the sound, Steb very rarely speaks, so hearing his voice all debauched has made your pussy dripping wet.

You open your legs wide and start to play with your pussy, dragging a finger through your wetness, three fingers rubbing casually rubbing your clit.

A look of astonishment is what you get from Steb, especially when you take his free hand and bring it to your breast, squeezing it harshly. Steb’s motions speed up, as do yours. Seeing him so ruined at the mere sight of you is ramping up your ego you're not going to lie.

Eventually, the two of you cum, it happens when the two of you kiss sweetly enough. Steb’s panting in exhaustion as you just lay him on your chest, tracing his features with your fingertips.

“… Thank you.” Steb says quietly, his voice smooth and sweet. You smile at your handsome boy, “No problem sweetheart. Now, shall we go back to sleep for a bit? Your shift starts in a few hours.”

Steb groans and buries his face deeper into your chest and you can't help but laugh at him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

VANDER

You've been helping Vander out at the Last Drop ever since you were a teen and he was in his twenties.

You helped look after the kids, and helped count inventory. Vander is the face of the bar, both as the bartender and as the owner.

Now the kids are teens themselves, you're in your late twenties and Vander is pushing early forties. The eleven-year age gap now not as obvious as it once was.

You've always kind of had a crush on him. He's gorgeous, kind, caring, and has this gentle dominance about him. He's never scared you— he's the one you go to when you're scared.

Especially now that you bartend with the man. “You're family” he said, “The kids don't need an eye on them 24/7 now, let them grow a bit on their own. But I still need you. Come bartend with me. I'll teach you all the tricks.”

Now, how could you say no to that?

You couldn’t, so now you’re a well known face at the Last Drop

A very well known face

A very pretty one

But there’s an unsaid rule, You’re Vander’s Girl. No if’s, ands, or buts.

Some patrons don’t understand that.

One in particular is making you want to commit murder. He’s rude, touchy, and disgusting to look at.

At one point when you turned around to grab a bottle of booze, the son of a bitch slapped your ass, in retaliation, you swung around and smashed said bottle of booze into his face.

He fell flat on his back, glass stuck in his face as it bled profusely. Other patrons of the bar became silent. A pin drop could be heard in the once lively bar.

“You Bitch!” The man gargles out, oops looks like you broke his jaw. You sneer down at him, “You’re lucky I’m the one who hurt you, instead of Vander.”

“The ladies right. Now get the hell out of my bar.” Vander states as he enters the bar from the back room, wiping his hands with a towel, before tossing it onto his shoulder.

The hurt man stumbles up and leaves, his tail between his legs. Your anger hasn’t subsided, as you pant in frustration. You want to rip your hair out, destroy the bottles of liquor lining the wall. Stab someone. Anything to get this anger out.

Vander clears his throat, “Benzo, you mind watching the bar for a bit? Gotta calm the Little Miss down.”

Benzo just nods silently as Vander takes your hand and drags you to the back of the bar, into the stock room. There’s a multitude of bottles, barrels, cold fridges, and a table with a few chairs, so that you can count inventory comfortably.

Vander sits you down before sitting next to you. There’s a small silence between the two of you, but it’s a comfortable one.

“I’m proud of you.” At that statement, your head whips around to look at the handsome man. “What?”

“I’m proud of you. A decade ago you would’ve let it slide, not this time. You stood up for yourself. I’m proud of you.”

You snicker, “A decade ago I was seventeen and worried about how others thought of me. Not anymore. Who gives a shit if some people don’t like me? I can’t please everyone.”

“I forget how young you are sometimes. The Lanes… they change you. They change everyone.”

A small smile erupts across your face, you hand coming to rest on top of one of Vanders. God damn his hand is so much bigger than yours.

“You’re young too you know? You’re only thirty-eight. Oh the horror, you’re almost forty!” You tease, a giggle in your voice. Vander rolls his eyes, “I was eleven when you were born.”

“Now I’m a grown woman.”

There’s a silence between you two again, but this time it’s not as comfortable. There’s tension there. Undeniable tension.

Vander clears his throat after some time, “So, you feeling better? Not gonna kill one of my patrons?”

You purse your lips, “Honestly. No. I’m still angry, and I know if I go out to bartend again without dealing with it, I probably will snap, and at someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

With that, you stand up and place yourself in Vander’s lap. The older man gasps at your audacity. You smirk, “One thing that’s always helped me calm down is a good orgasm.”

Vander’s hands go to your hips, they completely encompass them. “I can’t Lass. You’re… you’re too young.”

“I’m twenty seven. Like I said before, I’m a grown woman.”

“I’ve known you since you were a teen.”

“And I’ve wanted to fuck you since then. Be happy I’m seducing you now rather than when I was a teen.”

Vander says your name sharply when you start to rub yourself in his lap, “I know you want this too Vander. I see how you look at me. At my ass when I bend over, at my tits when I lean against the bar, at my lips when I bite them. I see how much you want me, and the guilt that follows.”

A groan escapes him, “We shouldn’t… it’s wrong.”

“Then why does it feel so good?”

Vander smashes his lips against yours and you moan at the feeling, the very large bulge rubbing against your pussy isn’t helping.

You both pull apart from the kiss, panting as you stare at one another, “We can’t fuck here. I need time to prep you. My fingers good enough for now lovely?” Vander asks, eyes dark with want. You nod desperately as you lick your lips, god you taste just like him now. His pipe, his favourite whisky, and mint from when he brushed his teeth. Its addicting.

Vander pushes your pants and panties down easily, your bare pussy soaking Vander's pants. His fingers are huge, god they're gonna feel so good fucking your pussy.

And they do. They're massive. Curling against your g-spot effortlessly. They even bump lightly into your cervix which sends a zing of pleasure down your spine.

You have to cover your mouth with your hand so as to not let Benzo or he patrons know what’s going on.

Before you know it, you're cumming aggressively. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you squirt. A squeal escaping your parted lips.

Vander hushes you as he prolongs your pleasure, almost pushing to overstimulation.

A sweet kiss is places onto your temple as Vander gets you presentable again. He pops his fingers into hai mouth and you groan in embarrassment.

“What? You taste as sweet as you look.”

A shy smile is what he gets in return, “What about you?”

Vander smirks at you, “I'll get my fill when the bar closes. That way you won't have to hold back your pretty moans.”

The large man then leaves the storage room and you're left there panting in satisfaction. You can't wait for the bar to close.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

SILCO

You and Silco have a give-and-take relationship. It’s worked well so far.

As a madame of a brothel, Silco ensures security is at your house— both for your girls and yourself. In return, you gift Silco multiple things.

The finest cigars, bourbon, and the greatest gift of all.

Yourself.

You're Silco’. No-one questions you. Not when you want into his office, not when you go places others are prohibited, not when you input your opinion on one of Silco’s plans.

It's especially apparent as Silco casually smokes his cigar as you enter his office in a blazing glory. All you get to your entrance is a quirked eyebrow.

“Where’s Allistar?” You snarl, your eyes blazing and hands clenched at your side. Silco sighs out a ring of smoke, “He’s guarding the club patrons.”

You roll your eyes and push your tongue into your cheek, “Get him up here. He hurt one of my girl and decided not to pay.”

All Silco does is nod once, calling Sevika over and whispers something to her. She looks at her boss, at you, and then silently leaves the office. In no time, the little weasel is inside The Eye of Zaun’s office, trembling.

Before he can do anything, you twirl one of your knives from their holster on your thigh and slash across his face; a nice clean cut from a corner of his forehead, across an eye, his lips, and to the opposite corner of his jaw.

A shout of pain is all that's heard in the silent office as you snarl, “That’s for hurting one of my girls! I'll make you hurt a lot more if you don't pay me my owed money.”

He scoffs at you, and you see red. In a flash, you've got him on his back, you've slammed your foot into his crotch, and you lean over, the tip of your knife digging into his throat.

His cries have turned into whimpers, you're quite certain you've popped one of his balls. Oh well.

He shakily pulls out a pouch of coins and hands them to you, “Thank you darling.” you say, your words a smooth purr.

Allistar just nods quietly before looking at Silco, who just sighs and states, “You may go now.”

He runs as fast as he can out the door. It's more like a frantic limp but you get the idea. The door slams behind the rat and the office is plunged into silence again.

You’re cleaning your blade casually before Silco calls your name. You look up and smirk at the sight. Silco looks hungry. His one blue eye darkened, his pupil overtaking his iris. His jaw is clenched and his hair is a bit messy, as if he was running his hand through it as you cleaned your knife.

He ushers you to him silently, a single crock of his fingers. You sashay to his side and your smirk widens when you see the substantial bulge in his pants.

“Oh Silco… did my violence excite you?”

“Get on your knees.”

You do so without hesitation.

In a few short moments, Silco’s cock is down your throat and his head is thrown back in pleasure.

“Fuck, look at you! A dangerous woman who most people in the Lanes fears, on her knees sucking my cock like one of her working girls. Such a whore for me.”

You moan around his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Silco chuckles at your reaction, “You like this. You like defiling yourself for me. You like being my personal cock sleeve.”

Your hips speed up on the tip of Silco’s shiny leather boots, and you shudder as you cum in your panties. You shove your head down until your nose is tickling the trimmed pubes at the base of Silco’s cock and swallow.

Silco groans deeply in his chest. A rumbly sound that makes you shiver as he cums deeply down your throat.

You pull away and inhale deeply, wiping your mouth and nose and you catch your breath. You sniff lightly as you put Silco's cock back into his pants. You crawl up from the floor and Silco kisses your cheek.

“So… should I be more violent in your presence?”

“You should just be in my presence more often.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

EKKO

Being Ekko’s right hand woman as leader of the Firelights can be very difficult.

It can also be very rewarding.

When Ekko found out you saved not only your team of firelights but all the zaunites from the enforcers trying to cause trouble to illegally put them into Stillwater, he never loved you more.

Seeing you tired, dirty, and bruised caused an unintentional pulse in his cock. Oh no. No. No. No! This can't be! No!

Fuck you look amazing.

Knowing the reason why you're so dishevelled and seeing you so unbelievably gorgeous makes him want to drag you away to a random private room and give you all the pleasure you deserve.

He doesn't even let the firelight team debrief the mission, he doesn't hear anything as he drags you away to his room.

“Ekko! What's gotten into you?” You squeal, you voice light and full of confused happiness.

The handsome boy just stays quiet as he whips open his bedroom door, slams it, and locks it.

All the firelights look to one another before coming to the same conclusion. Leave those two alone for a while unless you want to be traumatized.

As your firelights warn one another, you and Ekko are just passionately making out. Grunts, groans, moans, and whines are all that’s heard in the room. Ekko pulls you desperately into his lap and ruts against your clothed sex. You whine loudly into his plush mouth.

“Ekko! Seriously, fuck what's gotten you so revved up?”

Ekko groans that you stopped his kisses, “You did. You're amazing, I'm so lucky you're mine and fuck you look so good.”

You go back to kissing and the rutting intensifies. You're tempered to strip down and get Ekko’s lovely cock inside you but the rutting is too good. The layers of clothes causing amazing pleasure to your pudgy clit and Ekko’s engorged cock.

You two paw one another like horny teens rather than young adults, but it feels too good to stop.

In no time you cum harshly into your pants, your underwear sticky and soaked to your sensitive pussy. Ekko groans deeply and you feel him rutt desperately into your pussy as he cums too.

The two of you pull away and pant deeply.

“Did that just happen?” You ask, tone full of disbelief. Ekko laughs and nods.

There's a small bitog silence between the two of you before you calmly state, “Can my team and I debrief you now?”

The look of embarrassment that crosses Ekko’s face makes you laugh so hard you snort, and Ekko punches you in the shoulder.

All you can hope is that the other firelights didn't hear you…

(they did. Oops.)

I hope y'all liked this! I accidentally made Vander’s longer than the others due to exposition. It was a bit hard to write for this many characters but I think I did well! Love ya xoxo ❤️

[sceletaflores]

come on into my bed with me (i know you want to)

pair: old man!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, some sad vibes because i can't function without them, large age gap (but isn't that obvious by now? mid 20s/old as fuck), established relationship but only kind of, falls in the logan 2017 timeline but very loosely, LONGINGGGG, gratuitous nickname use (kid, baby, honey, ect), nasty dirty talk cause he's old and gross, not so dry humping, JUST THE TIP RAHHHH, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: this was heavily inspired by imogen heap's 'i am in love with you' because that song fucks so hard and it really gave me lots of old man logan vibes. i was just so overcome with nasty thoughts that the beat possessed me and i blacked out and listened to it on a constant repeat while i wrote this instead of doing my a&p work. kisses!

dividers by angel @saradika-graphics!

you can't sleep, logan left his door open...

Rain pelts at the smudged glass of your window, drops trailing down the span of the panes that you follow with your eyes.

It's been raining nearly all week, a rare thing in Mexico, especially somewhere as dry as Sonora.

You used to love the rain. You felt a special kind of comfort anytime night would come and there'd be a certain chill swirling through the air, that familiar scent of damp soil and wet stone rising as the first drops hit the ground.

In Sonora, rain is supposed to be a gift—a reprieve from the unrelenting heat, a chance for the dry earth to drink.

It should feel cleansing, like a reset of sorts, and maybe it would have a few months ago.

Now it just feels heavy, oppressive. Each raindrop splattering against the glass feels like a reminder of everything that's stuck, unmoving.

The soft noise of it was almost enough to lull you to sleep, but it was still no match for your wandering mind.

You’ve been finding yourself here a lot recently, shrouded in the scratchy sheets of your bed in the quiet dark encompassing your room, mind racing.

It was raining the first night he touched you.

You've been with Logan and Charles for nine months.

A runaway hitchhiker turned caretaker after you fled from the meaningless scraps of your life back in Texas.

Logan found you on the side of the highway coming back from a shift in El Paso. One stop with the hazards on and a hasty conversation through a rolled down window later, you were throwing your bags in the back of his limo and climbing into the front seat.

You didn't realize until much later that he never truly asked you to stay, or to care for Charles alongside him.

It was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, a roof over your head in exchange for your help. Watch over his ailing father for a few days while he went out to get him more medicine, that's what you settled on.

Yet somehow, here you are, nine months later.

You cook meals in a dusty kitchen that always smells faintly of motor oil, listen to Charles’ stories about a world you’ll never fully grasp, and watch Logan patch himself up in grim silence after he’s returned from whatever trouble found him this time. 

It's strange how the days seemed to stretch endlessly, but the weeks have slipped past like a blink. You carved out a routine in this crumbling house in Sonora, built something that resembles a life even if it feels borrowed, like a second-hand coat that never quite fits right.

At first, you weren’t sure what kept you here. Maybe Charles. 

You warmed to him almost immediately, drawn in by his gentle demeanor and the way he seemed to see right through you without a hint of judgment. 

Even when his mind faltered, slipping into tangled memories or distant fragments of a life long past, he treated you with a kindness you hadn’t felt in years.

You’d come to think of him as a king, regal and noble. A king stripped of his castle, yet still wearing a crown, if ever so skewed—a king nonetheless.

You still aren’t sure, but you can’t shake the sense that leaving now would be like tearing off a scab—painful and unnecessary.

And then, one night, the rain came.

You remember it vividly, a torrent so sudden and unrelenting. The downpour soaking the dry dirt surrounding the plant. 

You couldn’t help yourself from wandering out, stood barefoot on the porch as the cool air nipped at the skin of your arms and legs.

“You’re gonna catch a cold standin’ out here.” Logan said from somewhere behind you, his voice rough and low after the silence of a long shift.

You hadn’t moved, hadn’t even glanced his way. “I like the rain.”

There was a beat of silence before he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. His hand had been hesitant at first, a brush of calloused fingers against your arm. 

You didn’t pull away.

The heat of his palm felt scalding, causing goosebumps to pebble along your damp skin. His thumb swiped across the circular scar just above your elbow, a cigarette burn, one of many.

He didn’t say anything as he turned and walked back into the house. You learned quickly that Logan’s not the type to fill silences with empty words, but you both knew something shifted.

He came into your room later that night. The squeaky mattress of your bed dipping under his weight as he slid his hand down your stomach, pausing just above the waistband of your shorts, a silent question.

He didn’t kiss you, but the rain pattering against the tin roof was enough to swallow your soft moans and gasps.

You settled into something undefined—a constant push and pull of need and silence. Logan touched you when he needed to, and you let him because you wanted to.

It wasn’t love, not then. It wasn’t even comfort. But it was connection. A tenuous thread in the quiet storm of your lives.

You figured that was enough.

The rain hasn't slowed. If anything, the howl of the wind is stronger than before.

The soothing rhythm of droplets hitting your window turned aggressively sharp, like darts thrown against a worn cork board.

The boom of thunder is nearly in sync with the pulse of your core, aching and insistent in its need.

It’s been weeks since Logan touched you last, his endless cycle of guilt stronger than it's been before. He’s never outright said it, but you know it’s there.

The silence between you both has stretched longer than you'd like to admit, a quiet that isn't comfortable anymore.

You know he’s got it in his head that he’s somehow taken advantage of you. A perverted old man falling weak to the pretty, young thing taking up space in the bed two doors over from him.

The thought stirs something deep within you, a mix of frustration and confusion. He’s not wrong, not exactly—but he’s not right either. You aren’t a child, and you aren’t helpless. You knew what you wanted, what you needed.

And that hasn’t dared to change.

You shift in bed, the sheets tangling around your legs as your body hums with a restlessness you can’t shake. The air in your room feels thick, charged, and suffocating, a mirror of the space between you and Logan.

He doesn’t understand that you want him too, that you weren’t some helpless thing to be protected or shielded from his darkness. It eats at you until your skin is practically buzzing with it, buzzing with the need to show him.

There’s only so much silence you can take before it becomes too loud to ignore. 

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the hardwood cool against your bare feet. You know it’s late, but you don’t care.

You walk through the dimly lit hallway, the creak of the floorboards quiet under you as you make your way to Logan’s door. It’s cracked open, a yellow glow spilling through to guide you like a lighthouse guides its ships to shore.

When you reach the beat up wood you don’t hesitate, you push it open the slightest bit, peering through the widened gap. 

He’s there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know he knows you’re there.

You cross the threshold, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you pull the door shut behind you, leaning your back against it.

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice rougher than you intended.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he runs his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. The lamplight catches the sharp planes of his face, a familiar weariness etched into his features.

His fingers flex at his sides, and for a moment, you think he’s going to tell you to leave—to go back to your room where it’s safe, where you won’t make things more complicated than they already are. You almost brace for it.

But then he speaks.

“What’s wrong, kid.” His voice is nothing but a deep rumble, like gravel crunching underfoot.

You shrug noncommittally, hands messing with a stray thread hanging from the edge of your shorts. “Can’t sleep.”

Logan sighs long and slow through his nose, hands pressing into his thighs. “Thought you liked the rain.”

You smile faintly at the irony, chest swelling with something dangerous. 

You take a step further into the room, pushing yourself off the closed door. The familiar scent of him invades your senses. It’s a mixture of leather, earth, and something raw—something undeniably him. 

You stand there for a moment, letting the silence stretch thin and taut before you finally speak.

“Can I stay?” The words come out barely above a whisper, but they land like a crack of lightning.

You feel your heart thud painfully in your chest, not from fear, but from the sudden vulnerability that makes your skin burn.

The room feels smaller now, the walls pressing in as you step forward, each movement slow and deliberate. You stop at the edge of his bed, the sheets pressing against the bare skin of your thighs.

Logan’s gaze flickers over his shoulder, meeting yours briefly before he looks away again, like he’s trying to convince himself that the ache in his chest isn’t real.

“You should go back to bed,” he says, voice gruff. “It’s late.”

“I don’t want to go back.” You shake your head even though he isn’t turned around to see it.

Without thinking, you crawl onto the bed, the comforter making soft shushing sounds under your hands and knees. You reach out, fingers brushing the back of his neck, the muscles there tight with strain.

Logan flinches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away, and that’s all the permission you need.

You shift closer, pressing your chest against his back, and letting your hands settle on his shoulders. The heat between you is electric, charged with something unsaid, something raw and undeniable.

“Please,” you whisper, your lips brushing against the back of his ear, your voice a mixture of defiance and desire.

Logan stiffens, but this time, you feel the shudder that runs through him, the way his body responds despite the walls he’s built around himself.

You know he’s torn, that he wants to fight this. You feel it in the tension that radiates from him, in the way his body seems to be fighting against the instinct to turn toward you.

But you don’t care anymore. You’re done with silence.

Your fingers slide down his back, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt against your skin as you press yourself closer. Your breath is hot against his neck now, and you can feel the rapid pulse in his veins beneath your lips as you hover just above his skin, waiting.

“Logan…” Your voice is softer now, almost pleading. You don’t know what you’re asking for, but you don’t have to.

His hand comes up, brushing against your wrist as if testing, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away. But you don’t.

Instead, you lean into him further, your lips brushing the curve of his neck, whispering into the tension that still hangs heavy between you. “Please.”

The last shreds of Logan’s resistance snap under the cloying weight of your touch.

He’s moving before you can even register what’s happening, rearing up with heavy hands that land on your shoulders to push you backwards.

You fall back onto the bed with a soft gasp, bouncing on the mattress once, twice, before Logan follows. His body settles over yours like a warm blanket, thick forearms braced on either side of your head to support his weight.

"Why couldn't you sleep, honey?" he asks, dark eyes boring into yours intense enough to get your stomach churning. The green of them is deeper than normal, like fresh moss growing over stone.

“I was thinking,” you whisper, breathless. Your pulse races beneath your skin, you wonder distantly if he can hear it too.

“Thinkin’ about what?” he presses, breath fanning over your lips temptingly. 

Your brows furrow, a soft noise escaping you. You can't help but tell the truth. “About you.”

Logan hums, eyes trailing along your face slowly. He slots a knee between your thighs, groaning softly at the wet heat that seeps through to his jeans.

You gasp, hips bucking down instinctively. Your pussy aches desperately, leaking arousal into the cotton gusset of your panties.

His jaw clenches at the sound, muscle ticking just beneath the grey of his beard. “Is that right? You been layin' in that bed, thinkin' about me, gettin’ all worked up?"

Your face burns under his scrutiny, but you don’t shy away. You arch your back, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, letting the heat of your body speak for you.

“Yeah,” you breathe, the confession trembling on your lips. “I need you, it hurts.”

Logan exhales sharply, like the words knocked the air out of him. His hands slide from your shoulders, rough palms gliding down the skin of your arms before settling right under the swell of your breasts.

“Where’s it achin’, baby?” he asks softly, words almost getting lost in the dark of the room. “Show me.”

You let out a soft breath, reaching down to take his hand in yours.

Without breaking eye contact, you guide his hand down your trembling body until his palm rests over the apex of your thighs, where the damp fabric of your shorts clings to your swollen folds.

“Here,” you whisper, voice barely audible above the rain pounding against his window.

A low growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and his fingers press more firmly against you, feeling the slick heat that’s soaked through the thin cotton. His eyes darken further, the green almost swallowed by the black of his pupils.

Logan’s thumb drags over your clit, slow and deliberate, coaxing a needy whimper from your lips.

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice thick. “You’re drippin’ for me, aren’t you? Didn’t even need to touch you, and you’re already so fuckin’ wet.” 

You whimper softly, bucking your hips against his hand, desperate for more.

"I've been like this all night," you admit, your voice going high and needy. "Thinking about how good you make me feel. How much I want you."

Logan’s eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something new swirling through them, something you’ve never seen before.

A beat passes—too long—almost agonizing. His free hand lifts from your hip, gently cupping your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin, like he isn’t sure if he has the right to touch you like this. 

His thumb brushes your lip, his gaze flicking to your mouth before returning to your eyes, asking for permission, even though neither of you had ever really needed it before.

"Logan," you say, the sound a little breathless, unsure of how to navigate this sudden shift, but he doesn’t keep you waiting.

He closes the distance in a heartbeat, lips crashing into yours with a ferocity you didn’t expect.

It’s like the world around you falls away, leaving only the warmth of his lips, the taste of him, and the pressure of his body against yours. The raging storm outside dulling until it’s nothing but fuzzy background noise.

His kiss is rough, deep, urgent, but there’s something more in it, a slow unraveling. Like he’s trying to carve himself into you, a permanent mark, a reminder that he was here, even if he never says it out loud.

Logan tastes like rich smoke and whiskey, the sharp edge of him mixing with the sweet burn of need. It sends your head reeling, arms coming up to circle around his neck.

You can’t find the words to describe it, not with the way his fingers slide through the wetness gathering at your entrance, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Your hips thrust upward, begging for more, your body hungry for the release he’s just out of reach of giving.

“Want you inside me, Logan,” you moan desperately, slick lips brushing his with every word. “Please.”

Logan's body stiffens against yours at the sound of your pleading, his grip tightening on your cheek like he's trying to anchor himself in the reality of what you're asking.

“Shit,” he growls under his breath, his forehead pressing to yours as he closes his eyes. His chest heaves, the tension in his body palpable. "I—" he pauses, struggling to form the words, but you can see it in his eyes. He's conflicted, desperate, yet still hesitant.

You move against him, your body restless, your need undeniable, feeling the rigid outline of his hard cock pressed firmly against your thigh. A thick plane of heat that has your pussy clenching around the tips of his fingers.

You don’t want to push him, not anymore. But you’re past the point of waiting for permission.

Your lips meet his again, softer this time, coaxing, until he finally gives in, groaning against your mouth as he kisses you back with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I want to feel you,” you whisper, your hands trailing down to the hem of his shirt, pushing it over the swell of his pecs. 

His skin is hot under your fingertips, rough and familiar. Your fingers trail lightly across his chest, nails scratching through the salt and pepper hair dusted across his skin as you urge him closer.

“Just the tip,” Logan mutters under his breath, barely above a whisper. His voice hoarse, like he’s bargaining with himself. “Just to make you feel good, but that’s it, understand?”

You bite your lip, the edge of frustration gnawing at you. It’s not everything you need, not everything you want, but it's something. And right now, it’s enough.

You nod your head, hands already moving to the front of his jeans. You undo the button with shaking fingers, tugging the zipper down and pushing the worn denim away. 

His cock springs free, already hard, leaking with the same desperation you feel. You run your fingers along his length, feeling the heat of him, the steady throb of his pulse.

Logan peels down the thin layer of your shorts, cursing under his breath when he finds you completely bare underneath, your slick pussy shining under the dim light.

You watch him, chest heaving, as he stares down at you—his eyes dark and full of something primal, something raw.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingers tracing the outline of your wetness. He groans low in his throat, his thumb circling your clit once before moving down, dipping inside you just barely. “You’re perfect, baby.”

“Logan,” you whine, thighs spreading in a clear invitation. You patience is running exceedingly thin, your whole body alight with the feeling of a raging forest fire

“I know,” he mutters, placating. He takes the throbbing length of his cock in his hand, swiftly settling between your legs. “I know.”

The thick head drags through your folds, smearing pre-come along your skin and adding even more to the mess between your legs.

A quiet moan passes through your swollen lips, your muscles tightening as he slides himself along your clit. A slow back and forth movement that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

Logan grits his teeth, his breath shallow, as he finally aligns himself with your clenching hole. 

The air around you feels charged, a taut thread stretched between anticipation and restraint. You shift your hips slightly, just enough to encourage him, your eyes locked on his as you beg him silently with your gaze.

Then, with a low growl that vibrates through you, he pushes forward, just enough to make you gasp in relief, the head of his cock sliding home in your entrance.

And though it’s only the tip, the sensation of him inside you is enough to set your world alight. 

You can feel it, deep in your bones—the simmering, searing heat that makes everything else fade into the background.

Logan presses his lips to your forehead, his breath hot against your skin as he keeps his movements slow, deliberate, his hands holding your hips steady. "This is what you wanted, huh? Got you begging for it, honey," he growls softly. "Even if I’m only givin’ you a taste."

His hips roll languidly, staying true to his word and never sinking deeper than the thick head of his cock. His hand grips the base tightly, his fist fucking slow strokes over the length of himself to where he’s spreading your pussy open.

His scarred knuckles bump against your clit with every stroke, fanning the fire building in your lower stomach.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, honey,” he groans into the skin of your neck, the pace of his hips speeding up ever so slightly. “Feels like heaven.”

You claw at the skin of his back, touch wild and desperate. It takes everything in you not to shift your hips down, to sheath the rest of his cock deep inside your and lock your ankles around his back so he can never leave again.

Logan’s lips find your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he shifts against you. “Tell me you want this,” he says, his voice low, almost a command, yet laced with something tender. “Tell me you want me.”

You meet his gaze without hesitation, your voice steady despite the tremble in your chest. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” 

The words come out without thought, raw and honest, and you see something in his eyes shift—a flicker of relief, of something deeper than lust.

Logan groans like he got shot, his body shuddering above you as a low growl tears its way from his chest. He fucks into you faster, short, quick thrusts that steal all the breath from your lungs.

Sparks go off behind your closed eyes, bright white and glittering. You can feel yourself getting closer, your body trembling as you grind up against him, meeting him halfway, needing more, needing release.

“Logan,” you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders harder, nails digging in. “I’m so close. Please—”

“Let go,” he growls, his pace increasing, his body pressing harder against yours. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With his command, you unravel, the world spinning around you as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless, gasping for air, your body quivering beneath him as he holds you through it.

Logan follows, tearing himself from the tight grip of your pussy with a sharp jerk of his hips, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he shoots thick ropes of come over your slick folds.

Your body shakes at the feeling, a breathless whimper pulled from your slack lips at the sticky warmth of his release.

He collapses onto the mattress next to you, his body shuddering enough to match your own. The room falls into a deep silence, the only sounds your mingling breaths and the distant sound of thunder.

A sick sort of dread bursts through the sweet afterglow of your hazy mind, settling in your stomach like a lead weight. You think that this is the moment where Logan will realize what you’ve done, that he’ll retreat back into himself and send you away.

Send you back to your own room and leave you to lay in the cold aftermath of your own recklessness.

You brace for it, the instinct to pull away, to protect yourself from his withdrawal, but it never comes. 

Instead, you feel his strong arm slide over your waist, pulling you closer, his body heat a stark contrast to the chill creeping in from the window.

His breath is warm against your neck as he shifts, his fingers tracing absent circles on your skin in a move that’s so endearingly human it has your chest aching.

"Stay here tonight?" he asks, his voice rough, almost a whisper.

Your heart clenches, tears burning at your waterline at the vulnerability of his tone. It breaks the dam inside you, relief and something dangerously close to love flooding your body in a bursting rush of water.

“Of course,” you murmur, your voice shaky.

Logan’s hand tightens around you, his thumb brushing over your ribs. He presses a soft kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder, settling onto the mattress with a slow breath.

You drift to sleep more relaxed than you’ve felt in years, even with the knowledge of the slow journey that lies ahead of you. It won’t be easy, it never is with Logan. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Because even though the rain falls, the desert doesn’t bloom overnight. 

And neither do you.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief (Part 2)

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Summary: Red Hood has a new informant, and nobody likes it. Two of the bats meet them. It’s not what they expected.

Trigger Warning for starvation and animal/child abuse. Read at your own risk.

Also, there is angst, but I promise it will get better soon 💚

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red Hood had a new informant. One he would not name. And nobody liked it. This mystery individual had given him the location of Cobblepot’s new scheme a month ago, a warning about a big bank robbery two weeks later, and a tip to look into what the Black Mask was doing five days ago. It was good information, but Batman (being paranoid as he was) didn’t trust it, and neither did anyone else. It was likely a trap, but Jason protected his informant with such passion that nobody could get anything out of him. At least, not until today.

Jason was out of commission for a week, and Gotham was in deep trouble. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and despite thoroughly examining every inch of every abandoned or rundown theme park, amusement center, and playground in Gotham, they hadn’t found a trace. It took a mix of bribery, black mail, threat of bodily harm and a significant amount of painkillers for Jason to agree to give them instructions on how to get the information they wanted. Which is how they ended up on a random rooftop with a bag of fast food.

~~~

Two figures made an unwelcome arrival at your designated meeting place. Instead of a single pair of feet softly falling on to the roof, and the air being filled with the familiar scent of sweat, gunpowder, and campfire cologne mixing with deep fried chicken, the wind sent a wave of overpowering floral detergent, mint shampoo, and citrus no-tear soap to assault your senses. The sounds of two individuals landing harshly on the roof stabbed at your sensitive ears, and even though the moonlight glowing from behind them obscured their appearances, you could price together who had intruded upon your night.

They both scanned the roof from their vantage point, and you crouched closer to the ground and leaned against the brick box that functioned as an access point to the roof, hoping the shadows would hide you long enough to make an escape plan. 

After seeming to confirm there was no human in sight, the taller of the two figures turned to examine the surrounding buildings, and the smaller crossed his arm over his chest and huffed.

“I don’t trust this,” the smaller one petulantly mumbled, quite enough you weren’t sure the man behind him could have heard, “Everything about this is suspicious, the secrecy, the location, the set up… who trades information for a burger of all things.”

“I heard you the first seven times Robin,” the taller of the two answered, dropping a familiar looking paper bag on the ground before arching into a handstand, “but this is the best — and currently the only — shot we got.” The words hung in the air for a moment before he added, “and it’s not a burger, Jay was very particular about that”

The boy huffed in frustration and looked ready to lose his temper, but with the cargo confirmed as food, your plans of a quick quiet escape were all but abandoned. Even with the smaller one — Robin — facing away momentarily to glare at his upside down companion, the temptation of food was just too strong. You hadn’t seen Red Hood in three days, nor had you eaten in just as many, and your stomach ached with need. Under better circumstances you could have dove between the two and stolen away with the food, but the past several days had been brutal, and every movement hurt. You opted to stay where you were, in hopes a better opening may present itself.

The taller of the two righted himself to his feet, and looked around at the surrounding building again, before lifting one hand to his ear, “you sure we got the right place? I don’t see anyone… no I checked, I’m sure. What do you want us to do,  just wait around? For what?! Yes… Yes! I understand that, but is this really — no, I promise. And who’s fault is that?…” he spoke heredity and harshly, and with all the standard Gotham street noise closer than it could be, it took you a moment to register the mumbling of another voice. You scooted closer in hopes of hearing the other side of the conversation, but due to a mix of pain and exhaustion, you stumbled, disturbing some of the debris around you, and while the taller of the two remained seemingly oblivious to your presence, Robin’s piercing eyes locked on you your location, still obscured in the shadows.

He grabbed hold of the sword on his back, and confidently stepped forward. You hesitated for a moment, before carefully extracting yourself from the dark, staying close to the ground in hopes of seeming as small as possible. Robin froze for a moment upon first impression, though his face was unreadable. He slowly sheathed his sword, and in turn you rose from the ground to stand. He took a soft step forwards, and you did not back away. He took another slow step towards you, lowering himself slightly, trying to appear less frightening, and in turn you made a small shuffle forward. By this point Nightwing had fallen silent, watching your careful dance with his companion. A delicate back and forth until you were three feet apart.

“What are you doing here thalabun?” he asked softly, more rhetorical than anything. You weren't sure how to answer the boy, how to explain your relationship with crime ally's guardian, so you stayed there, looking at him, examining is spiky hair and soft skin, familiarizing yourself with the citrusy smell that wafted off him, listening to his faint, controlled, rithmic breaths. 

“Give me the bag,” his voice was sharp and stern again, head aimed at his elder.

“No way,” came a swift response, “we need it for the informant, remember?”

“I'll only take a little, look at it!” Robin exclaimed gesturing to you, “plus we've been here for almost twenty minutes. I don’t think they’re coming.”

Nightwing seemed to mull it over, carefully examining you, before picking up the bag and launching it at a waiting Robin. Robin unwrapped the chicken sandwich, and pulled off a piece of the patty, tossing it at your feet, where you quickly lapped it up. Nightwing wandered over to where his partner was sitting on the ground and dropped beside him.

“Ok Robin. What's next? The informant is a no-show, and we still need to find the joker. Where else could he be?” they both sat in silence considering the question, pondering what — or rather where — they missed. A small, strangled ‘yip’ echoed into the damp cold of the night, and both vigilanties snapped their attention back to the fox. It yipped again, tail wagging, as if to say ask me. 

“You wouldn't happen to know where the joker is, would you?” Nightwing asked, almost sarcastically. He got a yip in response, and a head bob that resembled a nod. That made him pause…

“You do?” he repeated, beginning to doubt his vision and sanity. But as if to assure him of both, the creature repeated the gesture. “Could you show us?”

That… was a bit more difficult. Your body hurt and you were tired, three days of no food, little sleep, and constant harassment from kids, store owners, and wild animals alike had taken a toll. But you wanted to help. To be useful. At least to pay back the kind souls for feeding you, but also because doing good felt nice. And very little seemed to feel nice these days. So you summoned what strength you had, and launched yourself at them, leaping between, and landing on the hard floor with surprising grace. You pushed all your energy, all your hope, and strength, and thankfulness, into your legs so that they would go, go, GO!

You made it just short of the edge of the roof before your legs gave out and you were consumed. By darkens. By pain. Your back hurt, burning with every cut and bruise you had ever received. Your legs stung and ached. Your stomach clawed at your flesh begging to be filled or released from its prison. You were surrounded by darkness. Deep and unending, it was cold and quiet, yet all too loud, swallowing you, leaving you with nothing but pain. Everything hurt. So, so much. And you were alone, with no one to treat your wounds or hug your suffering heart. There was no warmth to reach for, no soft blankets or squishy stuffed animals. Just you, alone, cold, and in pain.

Two small, steady hands buried themselves beneath you, before carefully leaning you against something soft and sturdy. A kind hand shifted to run from the top of your head to the base of your tail, before repeating the motion. It was soothing, inside and out. Slowly the pain alleviated, and your breathing evened out. The dizzy feeling lifted, and you summoned all of your will power to crack open your eyes just a bit. You were met with the soft concern of Robin, worry visible even though the mask he wore. Robin’s steady breathing softly lifted you ever so slightly, and you focused to match his breathing: in and out, in and out. He smelled clean and strongly of oranges. It reminded you of the girls home you had lived in for six months before it was shut down for feeding the kids expired food. It was not a good place, but it was kinder than many others. You had missed the smell. 

“How about I carry you and you point to where we need to go?” he recommended softly, still running his hand down your spine. You basked in his warmth and soft touch for a moment longer, trying to regain your strength, before shifting in his hold and pointing at Gotham’s skyline. 

“That way?” You briefly nodded in confirmation, and both boys launched themselves off the roof and into the night air.

You had never seen Gotham from this perspective. Sure you climbed up fire escapes, and sat atop many buildings, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like soaring through the air, skyscrapers flying by. The way the wind licked freely at your hair reminded you for a moment of a trip you had taken with your mother long ago. She was driving on an empty dirt road, heading to the beach. The air was sunny and warm, the breeze swayed the trees in a methodical way, and your mother had let you stick your whole upper torso out the window. Distant street noises brought you back to reality, and looking down you saw the cars and people, they reminded you of Mr. Knox’s toy train display, the one that nobody but him was ever allowed to touch. They all looked so small from here. 

Eventually you all landed outside a junkyard with a broken front gate. You led them inside, between piles of broken cars and rubbish, around the sharp metal and spilled oil, all the way to a faded, rusty, ice cream truck. Its hood was dented, the paint was chipped, and it was missing its two back tires, but a distinctive, infuriating, familiar laugh radiated from the inside.

The two vigilantes exchanged a look, before Nightwing turned to you and held out a crinkled paper bag.

“I guess you were Hood's little informant,” he breathed out. You gladly accepted the payment, and retraced your steps out of the junkyard and into the concrete jungle of Gotham.

Once you were long out of view, and hidden in a grimy abandoned back alley, you softly plopped the bag on the ground. Your food was in a bag and wrapped in foil, you’d need thumbs to get it out. You didn’t like being in human form, not right now. You were skinny in both forms, but without the fur coat being a fox provided, the wind and cold seemed to sink right into your bones. It didn’t help that your small amount of clothing had definitely seen better days. But food is more important than momentary discomfort, so you shift, trading your tail and matted fur for arms and skin. 

You unwrap your chicken sandwich and sink in your teeth. The bread gives way softly, and a delicious crunch sounds as the lettuce brakes away into your mouth. The tomato bleeds its sweet juices onto your tongue, and as your mouth finally closes around the first bite of food you’ve had in days, you realize that by some miracle, despite the hour weight and cold conditions, the center of your crispy, chewy chicken patty was still warm. You barely finish chewing the first mouthful before taking a second, desperate for food and warmth.

You wonder if Red Hood is ok.

Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚

Notes:

Nightwing and Robin intentionally landed loader than they normally would in hopes of alerting the informant they had arrived, since they were expecting a human.

Jason, on the other hand, always tries to be especially quiet when coming to meet you because he knows your ears are sensitive.

'thalabun' is fox in Arabic according to google translate. if this wrong please, please let me know, as I intend to use it with some consistency moving forward.

ALSO!! Illustration

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Let me know if you want to be added 💚

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗁-𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌?

ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗            PAID SERVICES PATREON

SUMMER SALE ˖ TIP JAR

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

You are not a thrill seeker and even if you’re dissatisfied, you tend to stick around for a while trying to see the brighter side of things and turn things around for the better, and that’s honestly both a good thing and a bad thing. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this but you have an ability to turn life around for people because you genuinely try to. There may have been many instances when you entered someone’s life when they were dissatisfied, bored, yearning and just craving more, and the more time that you spent with them, the better that their life got. A lot of it was because of your own effort but some of it was just your mere presence. I’m hearing that song ‘locked away’. It’s that song that goes “if I got locked away and we lost it all today, tell me honestly, would you still love me the same. If I showed my flaws, if I couldn’t be strong. Tell me honestly, would you still love me the same?” The part that I’m specifically hearing is “now tell me would you really ride for me? Baby tell me would you die for me? Would you spend your whole life with me? Would you be there to always hold me down? Tell me, would you really cry for me? Baby don’t lie to me. If I didn’t have anything. I wanna know would you stick around?” Changes are inevitable, that’s life. You are different from who you were two years ago and two years from now, you’ll be different from who you are right now. Not only will you change but so will life because it moves in phases and is unpredictable. In order to love someone, you need to have faith that you’ll love who they were and who they are becoming, and that you’ll not let life separate you both, that you’ll be with them in the face of every change, every blessing and every challenge. Loving someone for a long time requires having to learn them and their ways over, and over again because they’ll inevitably change. They’ll change so many times and if you’re too attached to a specific version of them, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.

Loving someone is having the awareness that life is unpredictable and so are people but having faith that no matter how much life changes, no matter how much your beloved changes, they’ll always be someone you adore and that no matter how much you change, you’ll always adore, love, and consider them. You naturally are that way, you create a very stable environment for your loved ones and that’s your law. You don’t let your own changes, their changes or life changes come in between you. “You’re coming with me” is the way you operate. People often say things like “people who are there for you at your lowest are the real ones” or “people who share their low moments with you trust and love you” but I personally believe that the realest ones are people who are there for you during their happiest days and try their best to move forward with you in their life. You are like that, you do not forget where you started from and try to take your loved ones with you when you’re rising higher in life. You are a lifelong kind of person. I strictly suggest that you both - learn how to let go and accept your own long term nature so that you never get involved in anything casual because trust me, you’ll likely end up naturally wanting to carry them to the next stage of your life without your own knowledge. I’m not even getting it being an attachment. It’s more like, you’re just functioned to operate like that. Every change makes you appreciate your loved ones more and you’re decisive, and firm about not abandoning them EVER. When your friend or partner might be going through changes, they might pull back and cause you dissatisfaction, and confusion but you still stay patient and understanding in the face of such changes, trying to empathise with them and understand, and love the new version of them that might emerge through this phase. You don’t give up just because someone is not as present or contributing as much as they used to. I’m hearing that one song by Taylor Swift. It’s called ‘it’s time to go’.

I’m honestly not sure which line will be the most relatable so I insist that you listen to that song yourself. “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul. You know, when it’s time to go.” “Sometimes giving up is the strong thing. Sometimes to run is the brave thing. Sometimes walking out is the one thing that will find you the right thing.” “Fifteen years, fifteen million tears, begging till my knees bled. I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all then wondered why I left.” “He’s got my past frozen behind glass but I’ve got me.” You’re very accepting of both the negative and positive things that happen in your life, and this also goes regarding people’s traits because you understand that they’re only human but this has bitten you in the past. “I wish that I would’ve thought this through before I went and fell in love with.” Now, you have learned how to flow with life but there was a point when you were incredibly dissatisfied and borderline depressed, and were just yearning for more. You have always yearned for lifelong connections but back then, you didn’t even know what you were yearning for or maybe you did but this longing was weighing down on you. Somehow, undergoing that time has only caused you to want lifelong connections even more, you understand life and connections more, and are more willing to carry the responsibilities to fulfil such connections. Your love is expansive, it grows more and more as you proceed forward with your life with them. It consumes you before you know it because they become a part of your life. However, by now, you know just how unpredictable people are and how their feelings for you might change. I’m picking up on having people replace and discard you quite literally or they don’t discard you by themselves but suggest that you’ve been replaced leaving you with no choice but to leave. What sucks more is that with many of them, you were with them during their lowest and most dissatisfying times 💀.

So, you want lifelong connections now more than ever before and have become quite apathetic in certain ways. You’re a contemplative person and have dealt with emotional weariness before, and still have your own moments. Also, you are more closed off and dissatisfied now than you were before. It doesn’t even seem bad. It’s just that no matter what someone comes forward to you with, you are either skeptical or never satisfied because there was a time when you were too satisfied with everything and that caused you pain. You’ve had bitter experiences and have been taken for granted, causing you to lose hope, feel resentful, and isolated but it has caused you to be content with being alone and you have learned how to think, and find lessons in everything. Like, even right now, if you open up and give, you’d do so in a very lifelong manner, and the nature of your life as well as the magnitude of your actions would only grow stronger because that’s just you. Love is like a drug for you but it is funny, you understand love deeply so experiencing it makes you feel high even if it’s you doing most of the work. I’m not sure if it made sense but if it is pile, it should have clicked without me having to explain everything because I’m getting that many of you are really good with interpreting things and finding some philosophical meaning in them. I have been getting the energy of a really philosophical, grand and universal kind of love but have been unable to express it despite understanding it, and I believe you’re the same. There are some things that you just know and possess a deep understanding of but cannot explain, and you understand them deeply but not in a conscious way. You don’t spend time consciously thinking about this stuff. There is also a lot about the ‘law of love’, you just naturally function like that. Everything about you is love which is why you tend to attract blessings - big and small, and bring in luck for others as well. I hope that you liked the reading and that it resonated with you. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

You’re a very romantic and sincere person who wants to extend yourself, and express your affection in creative ways. You seem to be a very loud and proud lover, and I feel like you receive a lot of envy. Your aura and energy are not replicable. You possess a mysterious allure but your mystery doesn’t come from the fact that you’re quiet. Some of you might be but most of you are very confident from within and possibly even loud. Your energy causes people to have many mixed feelings towards you and especially, they might hold so much tension towards you that one small mistake and suddenly everyone turns against you. You’re quite unattainable but also highly misunderstood. I find it so funny, people are so attracted to you that they’re repulsed by you. Your energy just genuinely pisses them off. You are so complex and hard to understand that even I’m having a hard time here. You aren’t really going around doing anything bad. In fact, you’re very pure intentioned. You’re inclined towards music and movies, and I’m getting really specific messages here but many of you, when you listen to love songs, you think about yourself as the one the song is written about 😭💀. Another thing that some of you do is pay extreme attention to the details in movies and books. Like, for example, if you read subtitles but didn’t read them properly, you might replay the same scene again and again, and you are curious about the visuals as well, you want to look at every single expression, every single body language cue. You are quite proud of yourself and very confident. You’re self assured and that’s something that cannot be faked. People don’t understand how you can be so comfortable being chalant and that’s what causes them to feel envious, and jealous of you. You’re a natural performer but when you’re performing, you don’t care much about the audience.

Like, if you’re in a new environment, you may act very friendly and might hype others up, and just act out in really animated ways even though you’re more internal and don’t really care about their opinions too much as long as you feel good about yourself but the more comfortable that you get, the more calm and nonchalant you might get or the way you express yourself regardless of how much criticism you may receive really pisses people off. You’re internally nonchalant and possess a duality that’s quite extreme i.e. all your different sides are equally as strong, and the delicate balance that you possess is what makes you so complex. I’m getting that you’re likely a mystery to yourself too. So, you’re a very self assured person but might find yourself doubting yourself at times and may have been guilty of seeking validation. You might sometimes wonder if you’re performing but then you think that if you try to be nonchalant in order to ‘stop performing’ that would be performing too so you’re just like “I don’t care, I’ll be myself no matter what anyone says and thinks” so you just continue acting like yourself. Another duality that you possess is that you may seem very chalant on the surface and honestly, a bit performative, and over the top causing people to sometimes look down on you but internally, you are very soft and emotional but have a very firm heart in which you take pride, and assurance in the fact that you’re genuine and authentic. You might question yourself sometimes “maybe they talk to me like that because they don’t respect me because I talk too much?” or “maybe if I acted different and more myself, they’d respect me more” because on the inside, you’re not very performative. In fact, even if you talk a lot at times, mostly you don’t talk much when you’re in a comfortable environment like home for example but even if you question yourself, you continue choosing to be expressive and authentic no matter what.

Also, being performative makes you a people pleaser but it doesn’t make you a doormat. Like, for example, even if you don’t like someone, you don’t mind talking to them, complimenting them and acting really nice to them on the surface, and you tend to do so dramatically, in an over the top manner but if you’re disrespected, you might feel bad but you don’t even care for that long. You just decide to honour yourself by pulling back and not giving a single fuck. There are so many dualities and nuances to you, and your character that I cannot even begin to list them all. Also, due to your attention to detail, even the most little moments and things that occur can significantly change the way you act. Also, your emotionality is heavily attached to your work, duties and responsibilities because that’s how you take care of your loved ones. Also, you’re thinking about your loved ones while you’re going about your routines no matter how busy you may be and always try to make time for them. You’re very unique and over the top, and that also shows when it comes to love and connections of any sort. You express love in all the four love languages and more. You may write for them, provide for them, try to find time during your busy times for them, hype them up and show them off. It’s important for you to have a partner that you can be proud of. You’re very complicated to understand and naturally want people in your life who understand you so you are hard to get, and don’t happen to get close to people a lot so they never get to see your layers and complexities, and they don’t even know what they’re missing out on. You’re a true romantic, one that melts the heart but you’re so private, and secretive. Even your fears have a language of its own and due to how you’re a natural performer, and a romantic and due to how you tend to notice small details in poems, writings, music, and movies, even this language is so refined in its expression.

It truly is a sight to behold but maybe that was not the right away to express it, it needs to be felt in order to be beholden. You hold love to be very sacred and you haven’t extended that towards anyone, and even if you have, the more that you’ve grown, the more that your capacity to love, experience depth, devote yourself and hold things to a sacred standard. I just heard “I have never seen a baddie who isn’t a saddie at heart” xD. Maybe, you have a sad and melancholic side that others often miss or if they see this side of you, they don’t see your confidence, self assurance and integrity. There is just so much coming through here. “She communicates with every other medium but words. Too bad if somebody wants to settle for something as small as words with her because trust me, she is capable of communicating in much higher planes and many other beautiful ways.” You may be loud, talkative and performative but somehow, there’s something more to you. When one on one with someone, someone you’re genuinely connecting with. You’re not as performative. You may express yourself with words but the beauty lies in the little ways in which you express yourself to them non verbally that touches them and sticks with them. Throughout the reading, I felt as though I was describing a muse but the rawness, the realness mixed with the mystery in the non mysterious and non obvious ways is what makes you so cherish-able and irreplaceable. You’re so mysterious and complex that even I may have failed to convey you properly. I apologise for my lack of efficiency in ability to translate your form into words but I truly did try my best. I hope that you liked the reading and that it resonated with you. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

You will walk away from anything that you don’t find to be fulfilling. You are an extremely emotionally rich person who offers a lot in your personal connections so if you don’t find fulfilment, you’ll walk away for the better. Also, no matter how much you’ve had to walk away from, you manage to always have a lot to give to your new connections. Even more than you did to your past connections. If you’re currently walking away from something that’s being highlighted here. Actually, let me tell you what you might be moving on from. You’re a fairly submissive person but have had to deal with really egoistic people who were aggressive, hostile and used to try to intimidate you. I am getting a very heavy energy here. You have dealt with this in both group settings and personal situations. People around you have won by hurting you and you have felt as though you lost a lot in the past. I didn’t want to read this energy so I channelled again for you but it only added onto the previous cards that I pulled so I guess, I’ll just be reading both sets. You have felt so heavily disrespected that the resentment still lives within you. Due to how tired you are of this energy and genuinely do not have the energy, and ability to deal with it, you just surrender and walk away when such things happen now. You genuinely did not have the ability to stand up for yourself back then and even now, when such things happen, you’re taken aback but may not react much despite how bad it may feel. I’m getting that you just ‘freeze up’ and give up. In the past, someone you were involved with was unwilling to embrace the next steps within your relationship and for some reason, you genuinely lacked the common sense to walk away. You also lacked grounding and were still immature so you lacked the discipline to make things happen for yourself so you were staying small, underachieving and losing more, and more respect for yourself as more time passed by. It was more so ignorance, despite the other person not investing, following through and setting the groundwork, you were just foolishly staying in that situation, and it caused you a lot of pain.

You likely have cried a lot about this matter but even with all that sorrow and pain, you still decided to walk away. So now, you have high standards for yourself and others, and will walk away with courage and the knowledge of how much love you have to offer. You’re also a very simple person. Despite how much you offer, simple things make you very happy so you don’t really ask for a lot, you don’t really want a lot. It’s just that in the past, not asking for a lot has caused you to feel at an extreme loss and has had you experiencing so much pain that you’ve had to learn how to have, and maintain high standards. In the past, there have been times when you’ve offered a lot in personal connections just for those people to choose to get more personally attached and give more to other people so you are quite ruthless when it comes to letting go, and moving on after the very first trespass. Obviously, in established relationships (both platonic and romantic), if things are not clear yet, you try to deal with everything in a more mature manner but once you get the sign of their lack of commitment and loyalty towards you, and realise that you misunderstood the form of the connection, that you overestimated the connection’s firmness and groundedness, that is it, you’ll leave. You’ve dealt with a deadbeat (possibly even multiple of them) and are unwilling to put yourself through that again due to how much you tend to do, and provide. You’re also quite possessive of your people because you do not really connect with most people on a more personal level. You’re also not open to most people romantically even when you’re single. Personal connections mean a lot to you so you reserve that for the people who you truly connect with and who seem deserving of you. You’re not just possessive and protective in romantic relationships. You are this way even in platonic relationships because you don’t hold one to be more important than the other.

You get moody and sulky when jealous and possessive, and the funny thing is that you might not even express it. You might be sulky, possibly clingy and touchy but you may not voice it. Obviously, there might be times when you voice it because you do have a mature side but mostly, due to how sensitive you are, when you feel extremely jealous. You start wondering if the other person even considers you at all especially if you feel as though their actions somehow contributed to these emotions. In terms of romance, you are the type to give yourself away and truly devote yourself, and you don’t even notice or want to notice other people so if your partner seems to not feel the same way towards or are just not capable of giving that to you, you genuinely start considering leaving. You might act distant or might continue acting normal but become very moody internally so there is a chance that you do express it in some way but you are a very sensitive person who genuinely feels hurt. Now, onto the matter of sensitivity - you’re a very soft, emotional and empathetic person. So, you truly consider your partner’s emotions even behind their back and avoid saying or doing things that might hurt them, and in fact, I’m hearing that you’re ‘wife/husband material’ even when you’re single so you don’t really go around flirting and looking at everyone. You are huge on empathy, love and compassion so you do not discard or make your friends feel less than just because you find a romantic partner. There are people who think “if she is upset because I got a boyfriend, she is romantically interested in me and that’s not healthy” or “I have a boyfriend now and it’s my husband that I’ll have to spend the rest of my life with so romance matters more” but you understand that if someone loves you, even if it is completely platonic, they might want you to value them, cherish your bond with them and truly understand their emotions, and perspective. So you would make the effort to talk to them and spend time with them rather than just come down to the conclusion that they’re a crazy, toxic friend.

You would try to make them feel loved and tell them that you having a romantic partner does not take away from your bond, love, and connection with them. So when your friends don’t do the same for you, you tend to feel quite hurt. You do not even try to make them understand, you just leave. You possess a duality in which you are very serious to the point you may come off as boring and you are also very fun loving, in an almost childish manner and possess a very pure heart, and might seem very immature and easy to take advantage of. Most people see one side of you and assume that you lack the other side when in reality, that side of you is very strong. Like, for example, due to how subservient of an energy you were giving me. Many might think that you’re easy to take advantage of and that you’re naive, and gullible but on the inside, you are taking note of everything that they’re doing, have done and just taking everything very seriously so that you don’t get involved in a risky situation where you’re at loss. You’re extremely cautious and aware as a person even if on the surface, you might fake cluelessness. However, I’ll not lie, you are very pure hearted and have a very strong character so you’ve had faith in people because as they say ‘the potential that you see in others is what you personally possess’ but doing so has caused you to feel very naive. You do have that tendency to do a lot with a pure heart so it makes sense why you may have felt naive and taken advantage of at times but even so, you never lose your ability to give love in a pure, and wholehearted manner. There are people who see both your serious and responsible side, and how much you take on for your loved ones, how dutiful you are and your fun, playful, and pure side and they cherish this well refined, and balanced character of yours. You’re such a sweetheart honestly. If you don’t have people like this yet. Trust me, you’ll find them and they’ll love you so much because they’ll know that there’s no other like you, and even if you don’t, never forget your truth. After all, your worth lies in who you are and how much good you put out, and not how much love you receive. I hope that you liked the reading and that it resonated with you. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love your Freelance Inventor Au so much! (And, like, all your other work,, lol) I can't help imagining Danny finding out about the Batfam and turning to Bruce like, "You let our kids be vigilantes?!" Meanwhile Bruce is stuck on the fact that Danny called them "Our" kids. Or the reveal the other way, with Bruce finding out about Phantom first? He'd freak out- clearly he doesn't know Danny as well as he thought he did. And he can't believe Danny never told him! Meanwhile, Danny thought he mentioned the Phantom thing ages ago and that Bruce just doesn't care.

Since Jazz put the idea in his head, Danny has been unable to think of anything else. The idea that he might be in love with Bruce Wayne and had been for so many years but didn't notice because he assumed everyone felt that it was for that one friend.

It was there whenever he was drafting new blueprints, when he traveled across the world looking for inspiration and investors, when he settled into bed for a good night's rest, and most of all, when he finished his weekly phone call with Bruce.

"Get some rest," Bruce's warm, smooth voice says over the speakers. "I'll talk to you soon. Goodnight, Danny."

"Goodnight," he responds softly. He has a request to stay on the line on the tip of his tongue, but with the time difference, he knows it's not a good idea. And have a good day, Bruce."

The call ended with a click, but he couldn't help but feel their goodbye needed something.

I love you.

That was it. That's what was missing. But did he dare? Could he? Was he confusing love for something it wasn't? Was Bruce even interested?

Danny places his phone on his chest, staring at the ceiling of the latest hotel he booked, wondering if Bruce is leaving for lunch with the kids. He said they were celebrating Tim's new clothesline and wished he was there to cheer the boy and his team on.

Danny is in Toykyo today, presenting his new hologram keyboards to a big company.

Of course, they were the second company allowed the selling rights. Wayne Tech was the first, and Danny kept the production and creation rights. It was one of Danny's most ingenious inventions, if he did say so himself, but the look on Bruce's face when he revealed it to him was far more exhilarating than creating the keyboard or gaining the fat paycheck.

Fenton's Ghost Touch was a set of two rings with a hologram keyboard inside. When someone needed to type, they would spin the rings and double-tab the inner lining, connecting to devices using the Bluetooth function.

A visible hologram would pop up underneath their fingers, or if they wanted (and were good enough typers), they could move their fingers in the air without it, which would still allow them to type.

Danny had chosen to release the line in black internationally with Toyko, but Wayne Tech would release an exclusive color line. The rings were of the same design, all using slick silver bands but with different colors as the activation inner rings and some elegant carvings, unlike the international releases, which were just one solid color.

Fenton's Ghost Touch would come in seven colors: blue, red, pink, green, purple, white, and yellow.

Danny had purposely designed them using each of the Wayne kids' favorite colors and sent them all a set with their corresponding colors. The morning they arrived, he got a picture of them showing off their new rings, smiling widely at the camera from Bruce.

He saved the photo as his laptop background. His phone background already had a picture of him and the Waynes at Thanksgiving. They had crowed around, holding their wreaths with Bruce and Danny in the center.

Danny had been facing the camera, beaming in pride at the kids' work. Bruce was half-turning, his gaze stuck on Danny's face with a strange, fond, soft smile, the kind he rarely saw Bruce give anyone else.

It made him hope. Oh, how he hoped, but it also scared him. What if this wasn't love? Danny has never been in love before, has never fallen to the urges that others describe, and had been so comfortable convincing his asexuality meant he would never have to be the kind of person staying up long into the night overthinking every interaction with another person.

Yet here he was, seeing Bruce in a whole new light and discovering how different everything was because of it. But at the same time, how nothing had changed. He spoke to Dani about this, but his clone-turned-sister had only shrugged.

"You raised kids with the man." She laughed. Dani wasn't like Danny, and although she was more informed than their parents, she had difficulty wrapping her head around not having those feelings. "I think it's past the point of having a crush on him. I think you should go for it. Make it official."

Danny reaches up, rubbing at his eyes. It was midnight, and he had a meeting with another with the Japanese board again at eight. He really needed to rest and be on top of his wits so that he and his lawyer could ensure the contact was in his best interest.

He clicks open his gallery on his phone instead of swiping through photos of Bruce and feeling his heart leap nearly out of his chest. He misses the man.

Since Jazz's conversation, Danny has been practically avoiding him. This is due to his being hyper-aware of himself and Bruce: the way Bruce laughed, the dip in his voice whenever the British accent he picked up from Alfred popped in, the slight facial expressions he made when confused about emotions, the shift from playful to professional in work settings, and most of all, the attention he always bestowed onto Danny.

How the world just seemed brighter whenever he was with the man.

Bruce was his sun, and Danny was nothing more than a flower seeking him out. It made the Halfa want to hide in a hole but dance around in public all at once, and he didn't know why.

He finds a video, tapping the play button before thinking further of it, and melts when the first sound he hears is Bruce's laughter. It's quickly followed by the loud noise of the Waynes' Children. It was taken at the last Wayne game night—at the time, Danny had been in England with Dani.

Tim recorded Damian standing proudly over a map covered in white trains, arms spread into a T position, and Duke screaming accusations of cheating. After Alfred banned Monopoly in the Manor, the game Ticket to Ride quickly took over as the new worst enemy creator.

Dick was in the background sobbing into his hands as Jason tried to confront him. Steph and Cass were each leaning on Bruce's two shoulders, laughing as hard as their father, and Alfred was out of frame but not out of hearing, so when he stated, "Master Dick, how could have gone in the wrong direction? It's the map of the USA, it hasn't change in years!"

"He has a concussion, Alfrie!" Jason protested hotly. "Leave him alone!"

"YOU CHEATED!" Duke raged as Damian continued his pose with the most serious expression he'd seen on the child. It made his heart swell to see Damian copying him.

Danny struck the same pose whenever he beat his sisters at a game, even at his advanced age. Once an annoying brother, always an annoying brother.

The video ends with Tim flipping the camera. His broad grin covered the whole screen as he shouted, "Love you, Dad! Miss you! Can't wait to see you!"

Danny turns to his side, feeling his heart flutter more as the word plays repeatedly in his head. A few years ago, the Wayne Kids—excluding Damian, who was polite to the point it hurt—switched from Danny to Dad when referring to him.

Bruce hadn't made a big deal about it even though they called him Dad. Would that mean the man was happy his kids saw him as a second father figure? Did it mean the man thought of him as....a husband?

Danny groans, burying his face into the cool sheets of his futon, begging his mind to stop for a few seconds so he can rest. After this deal goes through, Danny is going to face the music.

He would go to Gotham and figure out a way to tell Bruce how he felt. He just hopes he has it figured out by then. Danny has an idea, but explaining the mess in his head into words is going to be much harder than anything he's ever done.

Not to mention Phantom. That was a can of worms he hadn't ever touched in Wayne's presence. What was Bruce's stance on ghosts anyway?

Should he practice what he would say about the topic? Turning onto his back, Danny holds up his phone, clicking the screen so the lock screen image of a grinning Bruce appears.

It was from the surprise vacation Danny rented out the hut next to the ones the kids sent Bruce to. It had been taken at sunset, the soft orange and purples of the sky framing Bruce's grin and dancing on his wind-blown hair. It had been a spur-of-the-moment walk around the beach, but from Danny's perspective down below and Bruce climbing back up to his hunt, it had almost appeared like Bruce was descending from the heavens.

Danny had used every film skill he had ever heard Dani speak about to capture the beautiful sight.

It is the best picture he's ever taken.

"I love you," the words leave his mouth in surprise, even though he had meant to talk about ghosts. But when they are spoken, he ducks into ice water and realizes they are true.

He sits up, using both hands to hold the phone in front of him, hoping that somehow, in some unrealistic dream, the words will carry across the world, and Bruce will hear them. Maybe even feel them, too. "I love you, I think I do. Do you love me too?"

The screen goes dark, and Danny sighs. Ten years. Will he really risk ten years of friendship over these little feelings?

Yeah. He thinks he will.

[vantetaes]

FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS🫧🥂

ATHLETE ONYANKOPON X TUTOR BLACK FEM READER

SUMMARY!!! yn is forced to tutor her colleges golden boy, onyankopon

WARNINGS!!! slow burn, enemies to lovers, mild vougerism, pet names

on a rainy tuesday, the sky hangs low and gray, smothering the campus in a damp chill.

you’re sitting in the library, tucked into a corner where the light from a nearby lamp casts a golden glow across the wooden table. books and papers are scattered in front of you, your pen tapping rhythmically against the spine of a well-worn calculus textbook. the library is quiet except for the faint hum of the central heating and the soft rustle of pages being turned.

then, you hear it. heavy footsteps, a bag dragging along the polished floors. you glance up to see onyankopon striding in, his broad shoulders swaying under a damp varsity jacket. his forehead still wet from the rain, beads of water slipping down his neck and soaking into the collar of his gray hoodie and his large jeweled necklace. his black sweatpants hang low on his hips, the fabric wrinkled and casual.

he doesn’t even apologize as he plops into the chair across from you, his duffel bag hitting the floor with a loud thud. a few drops of water splashing into your work surface.

his presence is immediate, commanding, and unwelcome.

“you’re late.” you say flatly, folding your arms.

he doesn’t look at you as he leans back, his long legs stretching out beneath the table.

“yeah, well, traffic. i’m here now. isn’t that what matters?”

“not when you’re fifteen minutes late. i could be doing something better than this.” you push the calculus textbook toward him, your tone clipped.

“let’s just get started. i don’t have time to waste.”

“psht- sure.” he mumbles lowly, spreading legs wider, leaning back in his chair, arms tucked into his hoodie pocket, hood shielding his eyes.

“you’re awfully cocky for someone failing calculus.” he rears up, eyes narrowing at you.

“and you have a lot of mouth for a tutor.” his frame began leaning forward, his irritating smile beginning to form across his lips.

“be an asshole all you want. i’m what’s separating you and the championship. i separate you and your incompetent little scouts. watch what you say.” his eyes relax from shooting daggers, instead of look of defeat crossing.

“open your book to 215.”

-

the first few sessions are a disaster.

he spends more time cracking jokes and scrolling on his phone, flirting with the library assistants. rather than actually studying. half-listening, scribbling answers in the margins of his workbook with barely any effort.

you were stuck in a loop of wanting to rip the boys head off and reassuring yourself that this would look good on your record.

“what’s the point of this, anyway?” he mutters late one evening, slouched over the table in his usual hoodie, varsity jacket combo and sweatpants.

the library’s soft lighting and sunset through the large windows makes his skin look warm, his dark brown eyes glinting with something that isn’t quite interest but isn’t boredom either. licking his plump lips as he goes to lean back in the chair, pen tucked behind his ear.

“not like i’m not gonna use this in real life.”

“knowing you, maybe not.” you reply, your voice sharp, placing the tip of your red pen down on his paper, marking everything wrong on his sheet.

“but for now, you’ll use it to keep playing football. or do you want to sit out the champs because you couldn’t be bothered to learn how to integrate a function? all the money your parents spend for you to go here, make use.” your tone was straight and nonchalant. sliding over the paper to the man as if it’s confidential files. his eyes scan all the red x’s and o’s. noticing it was the majority of his work.

“do you always talk like this? no wonder no one sits with you in class.” he gives you a look, one eyebrow raised.

the words sting, but you don’t let it show.

“nigga we’re grown. this isn’t high school anymore, onyankopon. maybe people would like you more if you weren’t so fucking obnoxious.”

his grin is infuriating, lips stretching across his face. letting out a chuckle.

“oh, they like me just fine, sweetheart.”

“and i hope to be as delusional as you someday.”

despite your attitude towards each other, you find yourself noticing small things about him.

the way he fiddles with the drawstring of his hoodie when he’s frustrated. index finger and thumb nipping at the metal tips. the way his voice softens, just barely, when he asks you to explain something again, pushing his glasses up. breath hitching when you slide from your side of the table casually, the fabric of your sweater falling slightly over your shoulder. he thought you smelled like fresh baked cookies, maybe a contrast with the way your attitude was. you’d notice the faint scar above his left eyebrow, visible only when the light from the library’s lamp hits it just right.

one day, the library is too crowded, filled to the brim with worried college students, and he suggests meeting in his dorm instead. you hesitate but agree, figuring it’ll be easier than finding another spot in the cramped exam season.

when you arrive, his room is a mess. clothes tossed over the back of a chair, textbooks and playbooks stacked haphazardly on his desk, the faint scent of cologne and sweat lingering in the air.

“sorry about the mess. been trying to keep up with everything.” he says, scratching the back of his neck. he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and joggers today, hair protected in a dark maroon durag. his feet padding softly against the carpet as he moves to clear his clothes from his bed to his laundry basket tucked into his closet.

you couldn’t help but notice he’s moving erratically, eyes and hands unable to find a steady place to stay.

“onyankopon.” you reply, setting your bag down. “we can always reschedule, maybe you’re working yourself too hard.”

“no. we can do it just let me straighten up, swear.” your eyes drift from the man rushing to clean, to a pile of crushed red bulls, celcius cans, and empty americano cups. his calendar was packed full of activities and sports events he was mandated to attend. lists of exams growing. he’s running on nothing but caffeine.

“onyankopon.” you say, crossing your arms, your voice tight with concern.

“you’re running on nothing but coke and sheer panic.”

he laughs, though it’s short and breathless, as if acknowledging the truth in your words would be admitting defeat.

“nah, i’m fine. i’ve got it. i always do.”

you don’t respond right away, instead watching as he swipes stray clothes off the only other chair in the room and dumps them onto his bed. his hands move quickly with hangers, his jaw tight, his movements too sharp to be natural. you realize it’s not just the caffeine, it’s everything. the weight of expectations. the need to perform, to stay on top.

“sit down.” you finally say, your voice firm.

“what?” he looks up, his dark eyes blinking in confusion.

“sit. down.” you gesture to his unmade bed, the rumpled gray sheets twisted like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks.

“take five minutes to breathe before you collapse. i’m serious.”

“i don’t have time to—” he hesitates, his fingers twitching like they’re itching to pick up something else, to keep moving, to do anything other than pause.

“make time. you can’t keep going like this.” you cut him off, your tone sharper than you intend.

his shoulders sag, and for the first time, you see a crack in the cocky, untouchable facade he always wears. slowly, he sinks onto the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he rubs a hand down his face.

“it’s just… a lot,” he admits, his voice quieter now.

“if i don’t keep up, i’ll fall behind. and if i fall behind- then…”

“then what?” you press, stepping closer.

“the world ends? the team loses one player for a game? you fail a test? what’s the worst that happens?”

“everyone’s counting on me.” he says, the words heavy.

“the team, the coaches, the professors. hell, even my parents. if i screw this up-” voice cracking, he trails off, shaking his head.

you feel something in your chest twist, a mixture of frustration and sympathy. you’d always seen onyankopon as larger than life, the guy who has it all together. but here he was, cracking under the weight of his own perfectionism.

“look-” you say, your voice softer now. “i get it. people expect a lot from you. but you can’t give them anything if you’re running on fumes, onya. you need to take care of yourself too, okay?”

he looks up at you, his dark eyes searching yours, and for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he gives a small, tired smile.

“you’re bossy, you know that?”

“you’re stubborn.” you counter, sitting down across from him and sliding your notebook back into the bag.

“im serious though. drink some water, eat something. we can pick up next week before exams start.”

as the week goes by, something shifts. it’s subtle at first: he starts showing up on time, asking questions that prove he’s actually been paying attention. during one session, you catch him staring at you. not in his usual teasing way, but with an expression you can’t quite place.

“what?” you snap, your cheeks warming under his gaze.

“nothing. just wondering what you’d look like if you smiled once in a while.” he shrugs, his lips curving into a small smile.

“maybe i’d smile more if you got an answer right for once.” you shoot back, jokingly tapping the side of his face. there’s no real venom in your tone.

one evening in his dorm, with BRENT FAIYAZ playing softly in the background on his laptop. he surprises you by pulling out a red notebook filled with neatly written equations.

“i’ve been practicing.” he says, his voice almost shy.

“you… did this on your own?” you blink a few times, caught off guard. fingers flipping carefully through the work.

“yeah. figured you’d yell at me less if i tried.”

for the first time, you see a different side of him. he’s still cocky, still quick with a comeback, but there’s something vulnerable beneath the surface. it’s infuriating, how much you notice.

you find yourself in his dorm again. the rain is pounding against the window, the room dimly lit by the glow of a desk lamp. onyankopon sits across from you, his hoodie pulled low over his curls. he’s focused on the textbook in front of him, his jaw tight as he works through a problem.

you don’t know why, but your chest tightens at the sight of him like this. serious, determined, and quiet in a way that feels rare.

“you’re getting it.” you say softly, and his head snaps up.

“yeah?” his voice is quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

“yeah.” you smile, just a little. “you’ll pass.”

he leans back, exhaling deeply. “good. because i don’t think i could’ve done this without you.”

you wave him off, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at his words. “just focus on your game tomorrow.”

but he doesn’t look away, his dark eyes fixed on yours. “i mean it. you’ve been there for me when no one else was.”

your breath catches, and for a moment, the space between you feels charged, electric. but you force yourself to look away, gathering your things. “you should get some rest.”

he doesn’t stop you as you leave, but the look in his eyes stays with you long after you’ve gone.

-

the stadium is alive with energy, the roar of the crowd vibrating through the crisp autumn air. the bright lights cut through the darkness, illuminating the field where onyankopon moves like he was made for this.

you’re watching from the sidelines, surrounded by screaming fans and teammates pacing anxiously, but your eyes never leave him. he’s electric tonight, faster than you’ve ever seen him, his body a blur of black and gold as he weaves through defenders. every throw is perfect, spiraling through the air before landing seamlessly in the hands of his receivers. he’s playing like a man possessed, like this is his destiny.

and maybe it is.

the final play unfolds in slow motion. clock winding down, onyankopon dodging two defenders, the pocket collapsing around him, but instead of panicking, he pivots. his cleats dig into the turf as he launches the ball downfield, his arm a perfect arc of muscle and control. the last second. the crowd holds its breath as the receiver leaps, fingers grazing the ball before pulling it into his chest.

touchdown.

the stadium erupts.

the scoreboard cements the victory, and just like that, they’ve won. the team rushes the field, helmets flying off, bodies colliding in embraces and back slaps. onyankopon stands at the center of it all, arms raised, grinning so wide it’s blinding.

you should leave. you should turn away now that your job is technically over. he passed his classes, he made it to the championship, he didn’t need you anymore. but your feet stay rooted to the ground. because despite everything, despite the way he frustrates you and how complicated everything had become, you can’t bring yourself to look away.

but neither can he.

even in the chaos, in the middle of his teammates hoisting him up like he’s their king, his eyes find you. just for a second. just long enough for something unspoken to pass between you.

with a big smile and both thumbs high, you just smile at the man.

then, suddenly, he’s swarmed. scouts in expensive suits push through the crowd, hands outstretched, voices blending together in a frenzy of opportunity.

they’re speaking fast, throwing out numbers, offers, futures that sound too big to be real. you watch as coaches shake his hand, as reporters shove microphones in his face, as his teammates thump his back with shouts of -

“that’s the nfl calling your name, bro!”

“the girls gone love this shit!”

“let’s go drink!”

-

the campus bar is packed, overflowing with students buzzing from the victory, their energy vibrating through the dimly lit space. the neon signs overhead cast a hazy glow over the crowd, bottles clinking together, voices raised in laughter and celebration over the music.

you sit at the bar, half-hidden in the shadows, nursing a drink that burns just enough to dull the tightness in your chest. your fingers trace the rim of the glass as you watch groups of students in jerseys throwing back shots, replaying onyankopon’s best plays on the tiny bar tvs like they hadn’t just witnessed them firsthand.

you should be happy. you should be celebrating too. after all, he won. he got everything he wanted.

so why does it feel like something in your chest is unraveling?

you tip your glass back, finishing the rest of your drink in one go. the ice pressing against your lips yet the warmth spreading through you like a slow burn.

“another?” the bartender asks, eyeing you curiously. almost concerned with the solemn expression that rest on your face.

you nod, sliding your glass toward her.

“yeah. something way stronger please. everclear if you have it.”

“sorry we don’t carry jet fuel.” she jokes, reaching across the counter to grab your empty glass.

the doors swing open, and the energy in the bar shifts instantly. the football team floods in, a wave of jerseys and victory-fueled adrenaline, their presence consuming the space like they own it. someone starts chanting onyankopon’s name, and the whole bar picks it up, the sound rising above the music, shaking the walls.

he walks in at the center of it all, his championship hoodie slung over his broad shoulders, his jersey still clinging to him from the game. his chain catches the light as he moves, bright white teeth grinning, dapping up teammates, accepting the endless praise with that same easy confidence.

he looks good. he always does. but there’s something sharper about him tonight. something almost restless in the way his eyes sweep across the room.

then, he sees you.

you’re still at the bar, fingers wrapped loosely around your drink, your posture relaxed but your gaze unreadable. you don’t cheer, don’t chant his name like the rest of them. you just watch, eyes batting at him and somehow, that unsettles him more than anything else.

without a word, he starts moving toward you. almost like he was gravitated towards you.

“onyan, where you going man? they wanna take shots.” one of his teammates calls, arms thrown over two girls. a small smirk crossing his face. but onyankopon barely hears him.

“shouldn’t you be celebrating with them?” you glance up when he reaches you, arching a brow.

he leans against the bar, close enough that you can smell the faint mix of cologne and sweat still clinging to him.

“i could ask you the same thing.” he says, voice low over the noise. you take a slow sip of your drink.

“i am celebrating.” he huffs a quiet laugh.

“yeah? you don’t look like it.”

“guess i don’t have as much to celebrate as you do.” you shrug, swirling the liquid in your glass, watching the ice clink against the sides.

the words shouldn’t sting, but they do.

onyankopon watches you for a long moment, then reaches past you, grabbing a random shot from the bar. he downs it quickly, barely flinching at the burn before setting the glass down with a quiet thud.

“go back, they’re waiting for you.” your finger points past the man to a group of guys staring at him and you. some of them smiling at you while others stare confused.

“ma, stop acting like this. y’know i appreciate you helping me, i couldn’t have done this without you. im serious.” his hand shoots out, taking hold of yours, bringing it up to place a small kiss on your knuckles. eyes never leaving yours.

“come take one drink with us and the you c -“ yanking your hand back, the man’s big brown eyes widen.

“baby! there you are!”

your fingers tighten around your glass as a girl slides up to onyankopon, wrapping her arms around his bicep like she belongs there.

her black minidress riding up her ass as she pressed against the man. but she’s pretty. long, sleek hair, manicured nails pressing lightly into the side of his face.

kirsten.

you’ve seen her before, walking across campus in his hoodies, sitting front row at his games, in pictures tagged on his instagram.

your stomach turns, but your face remains impassive.

“uh, hey.” onyankopon tenses, like he wasn’t expecting her, but he recovers fast. she looks up at him, pouting.

“you disappeared right after the game! i’ve been looking everywhere for you. even came by the locker room.” then, as if just noticing you, she turns, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

her smile is polite. too polite.

“who’s this?”

before onyankopon can answer, you set your glass down and meet her gaze head-on.

“yn.”

her brows lift slightly, like the name rings a bell.

“oh-” she hums, the realization clicking in her head. she looks at onyankopon. “the tutor?”

there’s something about the way she says it that makes your jaw clench. like she’s filing you away into something insignificant.

“girl- yes. the tutor. the whole reason your fuck buddy was even able to play tonight.” you exhale slowly, keeping your tone even.

onyankopon mutters something under his breath, running a hand down his face, but kirsten just smiles, saccharine-sweet.

“right, of course. i heard you helped him so much.”

“i did, how did you?.” you arch a brow.

her smile tightens, and for a second, the two of you just stare at each other, an entire silent conversation happening in the space between. neither of you back down.

onyankopon shifts beside you, clearly uncomfortable.

“kirsten, not now.” he mutters.

but she ignores him, tilting her head at you.

“it’s just funny. you’re acting all… close, but you’re just his tutor.”

your lips part, and you could let it go. you should let it go. but the exhaustion from the last few weeks, the emotions simmering under your skin, the alcohol in your system. it all catches up to you.

you lean in slightly, voice smooth but firm.

“ha! kirs baby... you’re acting all secure, but you had to come find him.”

her smile vanishes.

onyankopon lets out a low, exasperated- “oh, fuck.”

“do you need that?” she asks, about to start taking her earrings until onyankopon started to scold the girl.

the bar suddenly feels too loud, too crowded, too full of people pretending not to watch the tension unfold. you sigh, shaking your head, suddenly too tired for this. reaching into your purse, you throw down a fifty dollar bill and snatch your jacket off the back of the chair.

“enjoy your night, superstar .” you say, voice quieter now, pushing in between the couple.

and this time, when you walk away, you don’t stop.

-

the pounding on your door is relentless. heavy, urgent, like whoever’s on the other side has no intention of leaving until you open up.

you groan, burying your face deeper into your pillow, willing whoever it is to go away. but the knocking only gets louder, more insistent.

“yn! open the damn door!”

your eyes snap open. you recognize that voice instantly. deep, slightly hoarse, impatient. onyankopon.

you drag yourself out of bed, throwing on the nearest sweatshirt, slipping on your slippers, your head still hazy from last night’s drinks. your legs are heavy as you trudge toward the door, stomach twisting with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. the knocks still persistent.

the second you yank it open, he’s there, standing in your doorway like he owns the place. his hoodie is pulled up over his waves, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, like he left in a hurry.

his eyes. dark, intense, scan over you, taking in the oversized sweatshirt swallowing your frame. lashes disheveled, your bare legs, bonnet secured on your head, the clear signs that you just woke up. eyes narrowed at him, sleep still collecting at the corners.

something flickers across his face, gone too fast for you to catch.

“jesus, onyankopon. why you knocking like the fucking police? barely morning.” you mutter, rubbing your temple, wiping your eyes. he frowns down at you, flipping his apple watch up.

“it’s noon.”

“…oh.”

he exhales sharply, jaw clenching.

“can i come in?”

you hesitate, debating slamming the door in his face just to make a point. but there’s something about the way he looks- frustrated, tired, guilty. that makes you sigh and step aside.

he brushes past you, pacing across your living room like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. you cross your arms, watching him, waiting.

finally, he stops, turning to face you.

“about last night—” you cut him off.

“you don’t have to explain.”

“yeah, i do.” his voice is firm. “you left before i could.”

you huff a humorless laugh.

“what was there to explain? your bitch came looking for you, you let her hang all over you, and then she tried to play in my fucking face. sounds pretty clear to me.”

“she’s not my fucking girlfriend.” he scrubs a hand down his face, exhaling hard.

“wow! could’ve fooled the hell outta me.” you blink.

“yn, i swear to god! i. am. not. with. her!” he looks at you, exasperated, hands held out pleading for your warmth.

“she’s not- we were a thing, yeah, but we broke up weeks ago. she just- she doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” he shakes his head, frustrated. you stare at him, skeptical.

“and what, you just let her? let her claim you, let her act like i was nothing? was her dumb ass helping you pass a class you knew you shouldn’t have signed up for in the first place? you could never be my nigga.”

his expression tightens.

“i wasn’t thinking. i was caught off guard. and then you and her started—”

“that, and i just—fuck, i handled it wrong, okay?” he gestures vaguely.

“all this fucking stuttering. yeah, no shit. you chose her last night when you let the weirdo talk to me crazy.” you scoff.

“i don’t want her, ma. i swear, i need you to believe me.” he steps closer, lowering his voice.

“good for you.” your breath catches, but you keep your face neutral.

“no.” he shakes his head, his eyes locked onto yours. he’s towering over you and all you can smell is his cologne and laundry detergent. his head still hooded, lips shining under the low light of your apartment.

“you don’t get it.” he moves even closer, his voice quieter now, more serious.

“i don’t want her. i want you.”

“prove it.”

he wastes no time bending down and attaching your lips to his.

“mm-! i didn’t have time to brush my teeth!” you whine, letting him snake his large hands under your sweatshirt. his trimmed nails running up and down your waist. his lips venture down the side of your neck, humming before pulling away.

“mama, i’ve wanted you for the last two months, i don’t give a damn.”

his lips move against yours with urgency, all heat and frustration, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you.

your fingers dig into his hoodie, gripping the fabric as he backs you up against the wall, his knee slipping between your thighs like he belongs there. the heat of him, the sheer size of him, has your breath hitching, your heart pounding so loud you swear he can hear it.

he breaks away just enough to look at you, his breathing uneven, his eyes dark and intense.

“you sure?”

you don’t answer with words. instead, you fist your hands into his hoodie and pull him back in, crashing your mouth against his like you’re making up for lost time.

that’s all the permission he needs.

he groans into the kiss, one hand cupping your jaw, the other sliding down to grip your hip, his fingers pressing into the soft skin just beneath the hem of your sweatshirt. his thumb brushes over the curve of your waist, slow, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, your back arching, pressing yourself against him. the friction makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss, swallowing the small sound you make.

he tastes like mint and something else, something undeniably him, and it has your head spinning, your knees weak.

his hoists you up, rushing down the hall with your lips connected. pushing open your bedroom door, he carefully places you on the bed. hands eagerly paw at your sweatshirt, getting it off over your head.

“let me take care of you, baby.” you watch as he climbed onto the bed, bending to attach his lips to your swollen nipples. his other hand comes up, dragging along your frame, taking hold of your other breast. he gently massages, rolling your nipple in between his thumb and middle finger.

mouth agape, all you can do is grab at his large arms, trying to ground yourself to anything. he removes his mouth with a ‘pop’, sliding down to your stomach. he places a few kisses, eyes locked on yours as he proceeds down.

the warmth of his mouth over your clothed heat is enough to have your eyes closing in anticipation. his places a kiss, using his hands to hook the sides of your underwear. in one swift motion, your pink underwear were draped over your tv.

when he started you couldn’t stop him. like a wild animal, his tongue lapping up your juices as his mouth sucks and bites at your core. he’s humming, using his free hands to feel every inch of your body, every bump, mark, mole, he needed to know all of you.

“oouu- shit! onya just like that.” the large digits of his middle and ring finger pump in and out of you, feeling your gummy, warm wall clenching around him. his tongue playing slowly with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head at how good you taste.

he always wondered how you’d look under him.

every assignment, every session in the library, it took him all his might not to bend you over his calculus book and fuck the shit out of you.

showing up in your skims or iamgia two pieces, the fabric fitting snug against your smooth skin. how everytime you got close to show him how to work an equation, the smell of coco butter, vanilla, and hair oil would fill his space. he loved heading to practice, music barely playing as his thoughts ran rapid throughout the drive.

and now he has you.

pad of his fingers press up against the small sponges texture at the back of your heat, tongue lapping at the bud with a sense of hunger. in the light of your room, you can see your slick and his spit covering his face. coating the neck if his hoodie. hands dart out to grab the closest thing to brace yourself. the coil in your stomach burning heavy, shaking with every pump of the man’s fingers.

“i feel that shit. you’re such a good girl for me baby, let it go. mm- let me take it, ma.”

-

you’d always known onyankopon didn’t have many cares in the world.

with your hands tied behind your back with his hoodie string, body pressed against the living room window. onyankopon stands behind you, slowly pumping in and out of you. wet squelches of sound fill the large room, filling your ears as pleasure coiled in the pit of your stomach.

“fuck onyyy, just like that.” you could feel his large tip rubbing across the spongy area, prodding around like he knew your entire body. his hand comes up, cupping the side of your face as his thumb slips inside your mouth, other had anchoring to your hips.

“mhm, hold on for me mama. let em see.” you can only look out of your window onto the balcony, tear filled eyes dashing across the parking lot, making sure no one was actually staring through the glass.

he pulls out, almost fully, tip filling your hole. he leans down, giving the back of your shoulders a kiss before sliding into you. slow, controlled strokes drive you over the edge. tears fall into the glass as your lips wrap around his finger. his hips dip in and out of you, a white creamy circle forming around the base of the man’s cock.

“pussy so good. takin’ it so good for me.” his words fuel the fire, passion burning through your bodies as his strokes become sloppy and shallow.

“yes! oh my- onya im so close, imma cum on this dick!” your breast collide with the door, letting the man take control as he nears his end.

“do it then, ma. make a mess on my shit.” he says through gritted teeth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he subconsciously begins to lift your frame. too lost on ecstasy and need that he doesn’t notice your feet hovering off the ground. he’s ravaging your insides, swollen cock drilling at your warm walls.

“i’m cumming! onya holy shit!” he continued, using his hand to cover your mouth. your body falls limp, standing no issue to the man as he holds you in place.

“that my good girl! i’m finna nut baby, where you want it baby?” too lost in the pleasure in your core, you just nod. pulling out, he releases white sticky ropes onto his own chest, carefully placing you down on the couch.

he takes his hoodie off, carefully undoing your hands.

“believe me now?”

“maybe”

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.