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#nor have we been around each other for a long time
choszen · 3 days
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★ — il capitano.
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il capitano x florist! reader.
GENRE: smut.
WARNINGS: NSFW. capitano smut. masturbating. fantasizing.
SYPNOSIS: the fatui harbinger, il capitano, had been visiting the flower shop for months now. he never engaged in small talks with you, only scanning the selection of flowers in sight, and only coming by to buy bouquets of flowers. whenever you would hand him the arrangements, he would place a lot of mora on the table and would take his leave in urgency. you often found yourself wondering why never speaks, and why he always appeared to be in a hurry.
MINORS DNI ❕
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CAPITANO was in haze. looking deep into those angel eyes was dangerous, especially when the said eyes were shining so brightly. it sent butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach, however, the captain couldn't find it within himself to look away. he didn't even want to. he felt as if his soul had been trapped in this angel's eyes forever, and that the angel was holding him captive with just a look.
“good morning, captain. you're here again!” you smiled, “which flower will you buy today? the usual? we have many lovely ones at our store.” your voice was like the music of angels, it was as melodic as the singing angels.
the first among the eleven fatui harbingers, a god amongst men, his name alone was enough to cause fear in everyone who heard it. so, why aren't you afraid of him? why aren't you shaking in fear? why don't you cower under his power? why are you staring at him with a soft smile that graced your face? what makes you believe that you can be safe around him? no one can truly be safe from the harbingers. he could easily squash you between his fingers, he knows how, but he wouldn't... why should he? he doesn't intended to hurt a girl like you, he has other things planned for you that would bring him joy. “... peonies, and lilies.” capitano spoke, voice low.
his eyes, dark and intense, tracked your every movement like a predator hunting its prey. each subtle shift of your form sent ripples through his composure, and he could feel his fist clenching tightly, the knuckles whitening as he battled against the rising tide of his desires. his control over his desires had always been difficult to come by. in the depths of his mind, the captain wonders how you'll scream his name out loud, how he will feel when he finally have his member inside of you. your body is meant for him, only his. the more he observed the way your casual clothes hugged your body, the more his thoughts wonders on how you will look without those, however, capitano pushed these these thoughts aside before they grow any bigger. now is not the time nor place for such thoughts.
“we're very lucky that you're visiting our humble shop. here are your peonies, and lilies.”
as capitano placed the stack of coins upon the counter, he didn't spare a single glance at you, his urgency propelling him swiftly away from the moment away from you. upon reaching his office, he slammed the door shut with a resounding thud, locking the door behind, ad immediately sank into the embrace of his desk chair. he leaned his forehead against his palm once he placed his helmet at the table. your scent, mixed with a sweet and delicate perfume was still lingering on his nose. the sound of your laughter still echoes in his ears, the way you smiled at him, the sound of your voice, everything about you captivated his senses as his breath hitched with desire. he wanted you to be the one to quench his flames– his growing desire.
there was a painful erection underneath the pants that he wore. he needed to relieve the pressure, the ache that was building up inside of him, and it wasn't long before capitano's hands began to fumble with his belt and once he unzipped his pants, the impressive bulge that grew more beneath his underwear was revealed. he couldn't hold himself anymore. he had spent so much time working on getting his arousal under control, yet, there it was, begging to be taken care off. ah, you should be the one pleasuring him right now, not himself. the point of his dick— his tip, kicked his stomach when he recalled your sweet scent, the way your hands brushed on his when you handed the bouquet. his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. he couldn't even tell whether he wanted to cry or laugh at the same time. his cock pulsated, growing harder and harder with every passing moment he was left alone with his thoughts.
can you even handle him? will he even fit inside you? his body is huge, his length is immense. he was big. he knows you can take him, capitano's length is for you to take only. his cock was veiny, twitching and already dripping with pre-cum as it was waiting to be touched. the thought of wrapping your lips around his cock made his mouth fell, his chest moving up and down, and sweats appearing on his forehead. he had never felt so aroused before but at the same time his hands were clammy, shaking and itching to touch himself now. the sudden feelings of capitano's fingers in his dick caused him to let out a small groan, there was a mixture of excitement and arousal flowing in him right now and all he could think of was you.
capitano had his head rolled back with a slight groans escaping through his lips, it has been a long time since he felt this pleasure again as he wrapped his lengthy digits on his cock, moving up and down in such pace. “ah~” he breathed softly, the sight of him stroking himself had turned him into a horny animal. he gripped onto his cock tightly and increased his movements, moving his fingers faster while moaning louder than usual. “t-the things... you do to me... y/n..” capitano mumbled between moans, brows ceased in arousal as he continued to stroke his cock with his thick calloused fingers. in that moment, the captain longed for your hands to caress him, fantasizing your gentle fingertips running over his warm flesh. how divine it would be to give in to your warmth, and feel your soft touch engulfing him in a cocoon of comfort and intimacy. the mere thought of your hands wrapped around his length, ignited a longing desire within him. what a relief it would be, to trade the solitude of his own touch for the blissful sensation of your fingertips.
his eyes rolled back in sheer ecstasy, each moan escaped his lips and grew louder, louder, louder. the captain's head fell heavily onto the polished table, his hands still clenching fiercely around his throbbing member, as if that grip could tether him to the world of sanity. no people should ever come close to making capitano cum so hard, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. the throbbing sensation that came with each hard and fast stroke, coupled with the increasing heat spreading throughout his whole body. “ah~ y/n... what did you do to me..?” the captain moaned aloud, his voice whiny from the intensity of his pleas. his face, once nonchalant, was now covered in shades of crimson. capitano’s mouth were open, moans and hot breath coming out. there were beads of sweat cascading down his forehead. his eyes rolled back in bliss at the overwhelming pleasure wrapped around him. he was utterly lost, unable to contain the soft whimpers and loud moans escaping his lips.
it didn't matter to capitano that the noise might alert others. his heart was beating like crazy, the feeling of being being inside you, your soft walls, made him lose all restraint on his self and he was whispering your name. capitano had never felt anything like it before. he knew you were the reason for his desire but the idea of telling you that, of showing you his love and passion, seemed too impossible and unreal. “m-my dear angel... forgive me for fantasizing about you...” his words sounded so weak. capitano closed his eyes in pure bliss. “let me make amends for my sins, my angel. please...” he begged, opening his eyes only a slit. the captain's fist were now full of cum as he stroked his shaft over and over again, his breath haggard and his chest heaving. he was going crazy and there was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing to distract him from the feeling coursing through his veins and setting him ablaze from the inside.
capitano could feel his climax approaching and his breathing became heavier and quicker. “...fuck..” he gasped, closing his eyes as he pushed against himself with his fist. “i will make you mine... y/n, my angel..” his legs trembled, his muscles twitched, his teeth were clenched. his eyes drifted shut as he surrendered his cock to the sensations of his own juices leaking down his member and fingers. he didn't know how long he had been doing this, but his body betrayed his exhaustion.
he stared at his swollen cock, and his own cum, watching the last few drops of cum dripping out of the top before it fell on his lap. what a waste. you should've been here to swallow all of it, to taste the most succulent thing that he had been saving for you, to taste every drop of it. he wanted to see your pretty mouth devouring the liquid substance of his own ejaculation.
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A night you won't forget
You arrived at the parking lot exactly on time, but Zach was already waiting for you in front of the building, regardless. Similar to yourself, he was wearing a suit and had his dark hair styled for the occasion.
'The occasion' was actually not that special. A new casino, the 'Shifting Sands', had opened in town, and a couple of friends invited the two of you to a poker night in one of the private rooms they rented. You knew one of them, Daniel, for a long time, and when he got together with his now long-time partner, Ryan, you were introduced to one of his friends, Zach. The two of you got along okay. You were both straight, and occasionally, you hang out together to watch a game, but Zach wasn't necessarily your *best* friend. Still, he was a decent dude, and you greeted him with a fist.
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"Hey, Zach. What's with the fancy get-up? Didn't they tell you it's just gonna be the four of us? No girls to get all pretty for."
Zach grinned and returned the greeting.
"Who knows what the evening will bring? Perhaps we will get out of our room later, and for that, I'd like to be *prepared*. Besides, you're suited up as well."
"Guilty as charged. I've had the same thought, and I've come *prepared* as well."
You flashed him a condom wrapper that you carried inside your chest pocket and the both of you laughed heartily.
The 'shifting sands' was a modern and glittering casino in the theme of Arabian nights. The staff was dressed accordingly and was pretty attractive, a fact that neither you nor Zach missed as you looked around.
"This place is amazing, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I wouldn't have minded if we just stayed and played here instead."
The two of you followed a hostess into a separate room behind a curtain and were greeted by the two other players. The gay couple had dressed up as well, and wore matching suits, which produced a playful roll of the eye from Zach's side.
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Besides the two of them, there was one other person in the room, a rather good-looking and muscular fellow wearing a sleeveless shirt in the house's style - without doubt an employee of the casino. You waved a hello, and the employee smiled.
"I believe we're complete, then."
He got up and closed the door, drowning out the noise from the rest of the casino effectively.
"Greetings everyone. I'm your host, Gene - which is short for Eugene, if you are wondering - and I'm here to guide you through a night you won't forget."
The guy had a slight exotic accent, and the way he pronounced 'Gene' sounded somewhat like 'Genie' - which was, without doubt, what he was aiming at. While you could appreciate that the employee was certainly somewhat handsome, you guessed that Daniel and Ryan had to be practically drooling.
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After exchanging some pleasantries, the five of you sat down at the table to play. This was the moment you had been somewhat nervous about, and you were glad that only your friends were here.
"Uhm. Before we begin. I actually have never played poker before."
Zach looked at you like you had just announced you were a chicken in disguise, but the dealer just chuckled.
"No problem. What's your name?"
You told him your name, and he nodded. "Alright, let me just explain the rules."
He did, and you listened closely. It didn't appear to be all that difficult, but it was a lot to remember the different card and hand values. Finally, you nodded.
"Great. Now, before we begin, let's get to know each other a bit. The two of you are together?"
Ryan nodded.
"Yeah, we are. I'm Ryan, this is my boyfriend Daniel, and this is Zach, a friend."
The dealer smiled and his eyes sparkled. "Well, welcome to the 'Shifting Sands', once more. I guess you are the top?"
Daniel looked like Gene had just punched him and he flushed red immediately. Ryan, however, answered.
"Yeah, I am. Why?"
"Just genuine interest. And the two of you..."
Zach was half a second quicker to answer than you.
"We're not together. And not gay."
"Got it. Not gay." Gene chuckled for a moment before starting to deal the cards.
Besides his shameless questions at the beginning, Gene was a brilliant conversationalist, with a bit of a show master attitude and even though you lost most of the games, you had a great evening filled with laughter, light food and tasty drinks. Your only solace in losing was that Zach fared little better, although he supposedly knew the game better than you.
Later in the evening, the chips representing your money had melted away to a point where it was doubtful you could play another round, and Zach's looked quite similar. You excused yourself to the toilet before that last round. Even the men's room was tastefully designed in the casino's theme, and you understood why this place had such high rankings on the internet.
When you returned to the table, you noticed that the tiny stack of chips in front of Zach had grown a bit: one more chip, in a glittering, shining color, had been added to it.
"Hey, where did that come from? You were as broke as I," you protested, but Gene just flashed a smile.
"Relax. Zach just brought one more thing to the table. Remember, you can bet everything you brought here."
"So, what did you bet?" you asked, curiously. Zach looked like he was trying hard to stay serious, and finally, Ryan burst out laughing.
"He bet *you*."
"He... what?" you asked, confused.
"To be more exact, Zach bet your humanity." Gene explained with humorously sparkling eyes. "As I explained, everything you brought is fair game."
It was clear you were past the serious game part of the evening, and you laughed as well.
"Well, then I want to bet something, too. And that is... Zach's *decency*!"
Everyone on the table laughed, except for Gene, who just smiled and dealt you another sparkling chip.
"Very well. I guess this is the last round, then."
He dealt the cards and even though your hand wasn't too bad, Ryan won everything, including your new chips.
You didn't mind losing, and after the game was over, the four of you got up to leave, but Gene raised a hand.
"Gentlemen, you still have to pay up. As I said, it's going to be a night you won't forget."
Suddenly, you felt *strange*. It was hard to describe the feeling, but a sudden wave of weakness went over you. Before you could voice your discomfort, however, you heard Zach talking.
"Man, is it getting hot in here all of a sudden?"
Your friend had already disposed of his jacket and was just half unbuttoning and half ripping open his shirt, in front of the eyes of everyone.
Suddenly, Zach grinned as he wiped away the sweat from his brow.
"Na. It's not getting hot, *I* am hot. Hot as always."
He cupped his groin, which was developing an obvious tent, and winked at Daniel and Ryan.
"Come on, admit it. You wanted me here just so you could ogle me all evening. I don't blame you, I'm just a hot stud."
He ground his groin into the air, and you could see him *changing*. His muscles swelled and his pecs and abs popped, his shoulders grew broader, his arms thicker. His hair became darker and longer, until he resembled a greasy biker model, complete with tattoos on the thick arms.
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Zach's body wasn't the only thing growing. His cock, which was obviously hard all of a sudden, also grew in both length and girth, and it was spurting pre as he flaunted his new body shamelessly.
Both Ryan and Daniel were staring incredulously, and Daniel, who was the bottom of the two as you had learned today, even subconsciously licked his lips.
"You like what you see, huh?" Zach addressed Daniel now, who couldn't help but stare.
"Thought as much you needy boy. Hey, Ryan, how about we share your bitch tonight?"
"I, uh..." Ryan began, but Daniel looked indeed like he was about to drool.
"Ookay, I guess. But right here?"
"Yeah, fuck it." Zach answered. "I even brought protection."
With that, he grabbed you by the hair. You were so weak by now you had trouble standing and more or less collapsed in front of him.
Thinking he wanted to have the condom in your pocket, you fumbled with your own jacket, but Zach had other ideas, as he ripped down your pants.
"Come on, let's get nice and ready for that ass of yours," he addressed Daniel, while unceremoniously ramming his hard cock up your ass, which made you nearly cry out in surprise. However, it didn't feel as painful as you had expected, and to your confusion, the cock inside your ass seemed to grow even larger.
Only as your clothing slipped off from you piece by piece, you realized this wasn't what was happening. Instead of his cock growing larger, you were becoming smaller! The room around you grew, as more and more of your insides disappeared to make room for the gigantic cock, leaving yourself somehow... hollow.
At the same time, your skin changed texture. Within moments, what had once been normal skin, felt more and more artificial, even rubbery, no, more and more like *latex*. Only now did you realize with horror what you were becoming. Wrapped tightly around the cock of your previously straight friend, you were reduced to a condom!
With your last strength, you looked towards Gene, but the man was just leaning back in his chair, watching the events unfolding with an amused smile and a sparkle in his eyes.
Your legs and arms had disappeared, and so had your face, but you could see, smell and feel everything, including the musky cock filling you up to the brim. Now, however, Zach gave your elastic form another tug and Ryan a high five, before they both got to work on different sides of the amazed bottom. In mere moments, your world was eclipsed by the ass of your friend, as Zach and Ryan spit-roasted Daniel. You were pistoned in and out of his eager hole, and you couldn't help but share the excitement of all parties involved.
It didn't take too long with the movement of three sweaty male bodies until Zach's balls contracted and you felt his dick pulse inside of you. Then, with a powerful spurt, you were filled up with his cum from the inside, bulging out the section of your latex body that had once been your face. All your senses were fixated on the load, which you both felt and tasted at the same time. The moans from the other end told you that, simultaneously, the other men had reached their climax as well, and you felt like you had cummed yourself.
It took a few minutes for the afterglow to fade, but once Zach has caught his breath, he pulled you off of his dick and tied your back end into a knot before throwing you into the trash can without further consideration.
You faintly heard the three of them say their goodbyes to Gene and some plans to hit the clubs now, but after a few minutes, you were left alone, in the stinking dark, still filled with your friend's cum.
Later in the night, the trash bin was emptied into a big container, but that didn't change much. It seemed like you were left there for good, just an object to dispose of. Eventually, you drifted to a kind of sleep.
When you woke up, it was already morning. Thankfully, you were human again, although naked and in a trash container, and you could still taste Zach's cum. You held your head.
That was certainly a night you wouldn't forget.
And, against all rationality, you looked forward to doing that again. You did feel somewhat empty without a dick to fill you out...
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tojisun · 2 hours
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(quietly) oh god thinking about kyle falling in love with his new neighbour.
How he was just going to crack open a window to let the breeze in only to stop at the sight of his neighbour and her daughter dancing in the rain, twin smiles tugging at their lips as they hop around in their front lawn, feet digging into the muddy parts of their grass garden, letting the water splash out.
Laughter trickles from the two, and it tickles Kyle’s ears, filling him up with such longing he can’t even put a proper name to it.
She is the single mother who moved from another country.
Why she settled in this little suburb, Kyle doesn’t know but he’s thankful of her because there are times when he forgets about many things—himself, for one; the touch of soft blankets and the feel of warm water, for another—but somehow he always finds himself snapping back to his body at seeing her.
At hearing her.
She is beautiful. She is beyond beautiful. She is—
God, how can anyone have that much fortitude and strength and love? How can anyone see the world so optimistically; so full of wonder?
“Oh, you,” she’d murmured, shy, when Kyle had told her of his thoughts, and he watched as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks at her quiet chuckle.
Kyle’s throat had gone parched—he has never felt this type of yearning before; one that makes him full even when he’s yet to eat anything. One that lulls him to a quiet sleep like his mind and his body have finally found their centre of gravity; like they’re no longer unyielding nor unforgiving. But kind.
Filling. Wondrous.
“It’s because of my little duckling,” she continued, eyes crinkling in her delight. She turned to her snoozing daughter. “I would have been lost without my darling Pen.”
She looked at Kyle then, smiling like he wasn’t just a kind stranger. Like he wasn’t just a nobody.
Kyle stares at the them now, his lips quivering as he watches them dance and splash and giggle to each other. Their laughter sounds like chimes. Like twinkling bells. Like what home sounds.
Kyle stares at them now, wondering if he could ever be part of their family.
(He already is. Have been, for a while now.
Penelope adores Kyle. So much so that she would not stop asking you when could she play agIn with the kind man next door.
She tells you that Kyle is so patient—not in those words, but she tells you that Kyle always asks more about her stories, and asks her who are her friends and which of her collection of toys is her favourite.
And Pen is still too young to understand the word ‘patience’ but she tells you how Kyle is nothing but.
How he never once rejects her tea time invitation, even if the tea is just bottled sweet tea and grocery store cupcakes that you were able buy that week.
How he never once asks why she doesn’t know how to tie her shoelaces, and instead teaches her time and time again. That he never gets snappy even if she keeps forgetting.
She even recounts to you how excited she had been when Kyle showed up for the dad-daughter dance hosted at her school. He’d asked for your permission then, going shy as he stuttered out his, “But I don’t want to impose and you can say no, I swear, and we can just ignore this and—”
“Kyle,” you murmured, your eyes prickling with tears. “I’d be honoured if you were there for Pen.”
He said something to you then. It was a slip of his tongue, clearly something he didn’t want you to hear, and you honoured his wishes but when a man like Kyle—
No.
When Kyle says, “I wish I can be there f’r you too.” What is the natural reaction if not to let him know that he can?
That you want him too?)
(Penny likes Mr. Kyle.
He talks funny, like the many others in this new country.
Mama said it’s not nice to say that Mr. Kyle talks funny but Mr. Kyle is not angry. He just laughs with Penny, and says she should hear his best friend, Mr. Johnny, talk.
Penny is told Mr. Johnny sings more than he talks. Penny giggles at the idea of it.
Penny likes Mr. Kyle.
He is warm and he always has toffee in his pocket for Penny.
He also laughs loud, like the one from the belly, and she thinks that his laugh fills their house with how loud it is. Mama said that Mr. Kyle laughs loud so that the monsters under Penny’s bed would leave. Penny cried and said many thanks to Mr. Kyle after that.
Penny likes Mr. Kyle.
He…
He makes mama happy.
Not the way Penny makes mama happy. No one can make mama more happy than Penny could! But he buys her flowers and donuts and- and books! Adults are so weird.
Books are no fun.
Sometimes she wished Mr. Kyle can be her real dad.)
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leggerefiore · 3 days
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cw: fluff, short drabble
pairing: Lear/Reader
“This is too much…” were the only words that could leave your lips as you entered your lodgings. Gifts sat sprawled around the room. All things of which were things you had once expressed an interest in, no matter how minor it was. You picked up the closest item, a stuffed toy of some kind, and sighed. It was little mystery of whom had the means and finances to do such a thing here on Pasio.
You had captured the attention of a certain prince thanks to your hat, apparently. This made him despise you – until he did not. Apparently you, alongside many others, made him recall the importance of friendship and bonds. This naturally meant you had his eyes more than most other trainers on the island. A champion could be standing directly in front of him, but as long as you were nearby, his gaze would fall onto you as he vented his frustration about whatever thing was on his mind or fell into some strange combination of an insult and compliment. But, recently, it was clear his feelings had shifted into something else. Lavish gifts and invites were appearing with heavy frequency. It was not exactly difficult to figure out what this correlated to – Especially when he seemed frustrated whenever anyone else held your attention for too long in his presence or if someone interrupted your time with him.
In fact, he had been seemingly inviting you over to his home quite frequently as well. He seemed insistent on spending alone time with you. It was often just existing in the same space together, as there was only so much two people could discuss when they saw each other often. However, it appeared your one declination of a hang-out had resulted in an overload of gifts. Lear was certainly something else. He had not even properly asked you out, but everyone around essentially assumed that you two had started dating. Even Rachel had been giving you some dirty looks. Though, granted, you had not exactly said yes to this. But… You would not exactly say no to it, either. There was something simply adorable about the prince and his inability to do anything normally.
You squeezed the plush toy and sighed. At this rate, you felt he would announce a marriage before you had even been asked to date him. Really, you could imagine it now… He would make some grand announcement before a gathered crowd about a royal wedding, while you stood none the wiser among them. Then, he would demand you join him on stage before giving out further details. You shuddered at the thought. He often did things with little forethought, you felt. Though, you wondered how he would feel if you did not want to be royalty or failed to want to move to his home region some time in the future. It would be an unfortunate reality that if you did marry him, that you would become royalty.
Lying on your bed, you gazed out the window. Well, he was still just a prince as it stood, but his succession was to follow his victory – against you – at the next PML. It was only a matter of time before that happened, too.
~
“Lear, we need to talk,” you caught his attention as you wandered the villa, having been searching for him. He stopped in his tracks to allow his uncovered gaze to fall onto you. Purple eyes stared almost through you in that moment. He nodded. You let out a sigh. “Uh, what are we?” you decided to first establish that before going any further. His gaze became strange.
“… Romantically involved? I thought it was clear that I was courting you,” he replied, “I'm generous, certainly, but I don't treat everyone as I do you, I hope you realise.” Ah, the usual accidental insult in his words. You sighed. Well, you were right. He just assumed you two were dating. Stepping closer to him, you caught his hand. He did not flinch nor really gaze a reaction more than a cock of his head. It seemed that he was truly convinced that you two had plainly been dating.
“… Okay… So,” you pondered how to say this, “… Uh, you're not planning any insane public announcements, are you?”
“… Not particularly. I think it is fairly obvious to anyone that we are involved,” he deadpanned and grasped your hand back, “… Unless you are asking that I do so, of which I have no opposition.” You swallowed. The last thing you needed was him smugly informing those visiting Pasio that he was dating you. The very thought was embarrassing enough to make your heart race.
“I'm not,” you clarified, “… Please stop getting me so many gifts, I'm running out of room for them.” He blinked in surprise.
“… Then move in with me,” he said simply.
You were almost tempted to take him up on that offer. But, instead, you just leaned in and gave him a kiss. Which, to your shock, he returned without any of the expected complaints.
He did take that as a yes, however. You had to stop him from actually moving you in.
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nekohime19 · 3 days
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Heart behind the lie # 20 : Past pain
Therapy session doesn't go well
Sun Wukong was standing outside, frozen in front of the pig's restaurant. He stared at the neon sign made to attract the passerby, tail flickering behind him, the limb overtaken by nervous twitches that shook his entire body. He was hidden in his hoodie’s shadows, fist thrown haphazardly in his pockets, lips bitten by his own fangs. He didn't have much time, with each second that ticked by the time to meet at Sandy's for another therapy session approached. 
The sage wasn't one to wander in the city. The bustling streets and the towering buildings weren't things he was fond of, he prefered the simplicity of his mountain, monkeys were creatures of nature after all. But he has to talk with his mentee about his scheming with the little Bull and the dragon girl. He tried to breach the subject the past week, but MK had been frustratingly hard to catch. Each time the King tried to initiate the talk, MK would leave, not able to stay because of “others matters”. Even by phone, the boy was still elusive, not answering texts, and declining invitations to hang out. 
Sun Wukong wanted to approach the situation with delicacy, he didn't want to blame MK for anything, nor made him uncomfortable. He wanted to ease his mentee into the talk. But with each failure, the sage's restlessness grew, worry gnawing at his bones each time he closed his eyes. Without the comforting presence of his lil lady, he would have barged in the kid's house to demand answers long ago. He recently discovered she looked like a loaf, sometimes, when she was sleeping. It was adorable enough to clear his mind, and not let worry overwhelm him. 
Sun Wukong took a deep breath, tasting the morning chilly winds, and opened the restaurant's door. If MK wasn't coming to him, he would come to MK. He was greeted by the pig and the scholar, both already around the kitchen countertop. The King awkwardly cleared his throat to catch their attention and asked, in a quiet whisper : 
“Is MK here?”
The pig looked at him up and down, as if checking if he was really standing there, before answering with a sharp “no”. Sun Wukong hid his disappointment and awkwardly shuffled on the ball of his feet. 
“oh…well I better go then. It was nice to see you both.” Chuckled the sage, but before he could leave the pig put a bowl on the countertop and nodded at him. “I don't have any money?”
“On the house.” Huffed the chef with crossed arms. 
“What!? Pigsy, you never did that for me!”cried Tang as Wukong took place beside him. 
“Thank you.” Mumbled the sage as he dived in the noodle, tail wagging each time he swallowed one bite of the dish. 
“Look, we never really got to talk. But I wanted to thank ya, for being there for the kid and all.” Sighed Pigsy, face softening the second he mentioned the kid. 
“Oh, no, I'm just doing my job.” Carefully replied the King, he let silence embrace them for a moment, thinking deeply about his next words, and added : “Also, sorry about the whole samadhi thing.”
Pigsy nodded, something sharp, but meaningful in its own way. Sun Wukong peacefully ate the rest of his noodle, listening quietly to the scholar's retelling of past legends, and the pig's annoyed groans, chiming in from time to time with his own knowledge. He left them with a lightened heart, encouraged by this brief moment of respite. He didn't find the kid, but the moment had been pleasant, he promised himself to come by more in the future. 
He reached Sandy's submarine easily, used to the paths that led to the docks after so many visits. The tea-lover welcomed him warmly, inviting him in with his trademark smile. Sun Wukong crouched down and greeted all the fluff balls running towards him, he petted each of them, cooing at their cuteness. After a few minutes of pets, he stood up and followed the tea-lover in the kitchen to help him make the tea. Macaque appeared just after they finished the teas. The two monkeys sat on the couch and took their usual cups. 
“Hello to the both of you. I hope everything is going great. Do you both still want to do what we talked about?” Asked the tea-lover as he put his cup down. 
“Those last sessions were nice, but I think it's time we breach the subject.” Answered the macaque, sure of himself. Sandy turned towards him, like always waiting for his input before deciding. 
“We're here to talk about our problems after all.” He awkwardly answered. If he was honest, he didn't want to talk about their downfall. He knew it was inevitable and that they both needed it to move on. But he also knew it would end badly, he wasn't naive enough to believe they wouldn't hurt each other, their wounds were still weeping even after thousands of years, it was bound to hurt. 
“Alright. I want the both of you to know you can stop at any moment, and that I will be there to diffuse anything if you both get too heated.” Gently explained the tea-lover while petting Mo. “Now, do you have somewhere to begin with? Or do you want my help with that?”
“I guess we can start with the beginning. It'll be easier”. Shrugged the macaque. 
“Which is?” Asked the sage, wanting to be on the same page as the other for this dreadful talk. 
“You becoming King.” Replied the warrior. 
“Oh, okay, the beginning beginning then.” Awkwardly chuckled the sage, he didn't think they would go this far in their past. A tense silence fell upon them after his input, it was as if neither knew how to breach the matter, as if it was some unseizabke thing they couldn't express properly. Both afraid of their own words. 
“So, Mister Wukong became King. How did that make you both feel?” Bless Sandy for breaking this quietness, it was too suffocating for Wukong. 
“I was glad. Felt nice to be recognized by others and all”. Easily replied the King. 
“I was glad for him, he seemed happy with it and it didn't bother me.” Once again silence fell, a tense, suffocating quietness on the verge of blowing up like the strained string of a bow. 
“But Mister Wukong becoming King caused some problems, didn't it?” Guessed the tea-lover. 
“It didn't cause problems, it just… triggered the whole thing.” Mumbled the warrior, Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow at that, this was the first time he heard such a thing. 
“What did it trigger?” Asked the sage. 
“You leaving.” The King flinched, surprised by the bitterness of the other. He turned away, eyebrows furrowed. 
“You left the mountain, Mister Wukong?” 
“I just…to find immortality and all.”
“At first.” Cut the macaque with crossed arms. 
“What do you mean by that, Mister Maquawke?”
“That… You didn't just leave one time. You left for the Diyu, you left to explore our borders, to see others' kingdoms, making allies and then Heavens… ” Explained the warrior in a quiet whisper. 
“Well yeah, because I needed to.” Carefully retorted the sage. 
“I'm feeling that those outings frustrated you, Mister Maquawke. Am I wrong?” 
“I just… I didn't like to be left behind.” Sighed the ebony monkey. 
“I always asked if you wanted to come with me, you always said no.” Mumbled the King, saddened by the other's tone. 
“Because someone had to protect the monkeys and the mountain.” Hissed the macaque. 
“I trained them to take care of themself.” Refuted the King. 
“And that worked so well.” Muttered the warrior. “Remember Havoc? The hunters? Heavens? Hell, even Erlang ? The monkeys are defenseless without us, that's the only truth.”
Sun Wukong grabbed one of the couch sides, claws slightly tearing the fabric. He cleared his mind with a few breaths, not wanting to let his emotions drown him. 
“I sense a great bitterness in your words, Mister Maquawke. Perhaps, you wanted to leave the mountain too?” Carefully asked the tea-lover, the warrior flinched, tail tightening in his ankle. Sun Wukong turned towards him, curious about his answer. 
“I thought about it…” whispered the warrior. 
“Why did you never tell me?.” Sighed the sage, heart shattering with the mere thought of depriving his friend of what he wanted because of his own selfish desires. 
“I just… I didn't want to burden you.” Softly replied the macaque. “I missed you too.”
“awww, bud.” Cooed the sage. 
“Whatever.” Groaned the warrior. “I guess it felt bitter. To deal with everything. I had to deal with the borders, the food, the newborns, the houses, the weapons. And… I liked to take care of the monkeys, but I didn't… each day that's all I ever did, take care of them, I couldn't even take care of myself. Sometimes I felt used, I did everything, but all the credits went to you. And while I worked my ass off for us, you were just… leaving… always leaving.”
“Macaque I…” The sage gulped, throat tied by sorrow. “I'm sorry… I wasn't… I never knew.”
“I know. I didn't want you to know.” Sighed Macaque, eyes downcast. 
“You know, at this time I didn't understand what it meant to be King. I just liked the title. It wasn't fair to impose those burdens on you. I should have… I'm sorry.” Sun Wukong approached his moon and carefully put his hand on top of his. “I'm grateful for everything you did for me. Thank you, my warrior.” Macaque flinched, he yanked his hand out of the sage's grip and held it carefully, as if it was burned. Sun Wukong painfully repressed the cry on the tip of his tongue. 
“Were you bored of us? Of me? Is it why you left? Because I wasn't enough?” Asked the macaque as he curled on himself. 
“No! No, no, no, never.” Answered the sage. “I left because I was curious… Because I wanted glory, recognition. But I… at this time, if I had to choose between you and my titles, I would have chosen you, always you. All I ever did was for us.”
“Are you sure of that?” Spat the macaque, shoulders quivering. 
“I promise-”
“Don't promise me anything ever again!” Hissed the other, tail lashing on the couch, frightening the nearby cats. 
“A-alright, I promise nothing. But it is the truth… I wasn't bored of you. I never could be.”
They stayed frozen for a few minutes, each brewing with their own emotions. 
“How about we take a little breather before going on, if you both still want to go on.”
The monkeys nodded, each already drained by the talk. They nibbled on the tea-lover's snacks in silence, trying to appease their respective hearts. Wukong left the couch and rolled around with the cats, playing with their tiny paws with glee. Macaque drew something on a piece of paper, each stroke of pen harsh and loud, imbued with his feelings. 
They resumed the talk after an hour, both retaking their respective places, before the tea-lover. 
“I think, maybe, we should talk about the brotherhood.” Quietly proposed the sage. 
“What is the brotherhood?”Asked Sandy. 
“They were our friends, we shared common ideals.” The macaque scoffed at his words. 
“Yeah, friends.” Groaned the ebony monkey. 
“You didn't like them, Mister Maquawke?”
“No. I didn't.” 
“But they were our brothers.” Replied the King, chest tightening at the other thundering voice. 
“Don't be naïve. This wasn't friendship, it was a power play, they only wanted us for their stupid rebellion.”
“Don't say that. I liked them!” Exclaimed the sage. 
“Well, I didn't.” Mumbled the macaque. “Peng was a little shit. Yellow Tusk never made an effort to befriend us. Azure was blinded by his ideals. And I guess DBK was nice but he wasn't fond of me. And you were just accepting all of it because you wanted attention.”
“Then why did you never tell me!?” Cut the sage. “ I wouldn't have invited them so often if I knew you felt this way.”
“I told you I thought the plan was stupid!”
“No! You told me you had doubts about it, not that you felt uncomfortable with them. It's not the same.” Sighed the King. 
“I didn't… you liked them.”
“So you never told me because I liked them?” Quietly asked the sage, heart shattering all over again. “How much of yourself did you sacrifice like that? Why did you never tell me anything?”
“I just… Well, yeah, it sucked that you seemed to brush me aside when we hung out with them but I… I liked to see you happy.” 
“You…” Sun Wukong took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I'm sorry I never listened to you before, especially with our attack on Heaven. I… I know it sucks. It sucked when I wasn't listened to and I know how it hurts. But I wish you'd talked more.”
“...I'm sorry I never told you anything. That I let it fester inside of me.” Mumbled Macaque, tail coiling on himself, eyes avoiding the sage like the plague. 
They both stopped talking for a while, trying to catch their breath after letting their emotions run wild. The more he learned about their past, the more Sun Wukong felt guilty. He felt like a failure. A failure of a King, who let his warrior take the burden of the crown instead of owning it like he should have. A failure of a friend, who brushed aside his moon for the brotherhood and never saw the pain he hid, never saw how much he sacrificed. A failure of a man, who let his own selfishness and his own fear dictate his way of life. 
They called him the intelligent stone monkey and yet, now, he felt like a fool. 
“Are you alright, Mister King?” Asked the tea-lover, perhaps he noticed his pale face. 
“I feel horrible.” Mumbled the sage. “I'm horrible! I feel like my whole life is a lie now! I thought you were happy…” He turned towards the warrior, eyes glistening with tears. “I thought you were happy with me. And now I learned I made your life a living hell because I was a fool! You mean so much to me and I… I let you down.”Macaque turned towards him with fire-like eyes, and cut him before he could say more. 
“I was happy.” He said with the utmost sincerity. 
“No, you weren't. I was horrible to you.”
“No, Wukong–come on, don't do this.” Macaque scoutched closer, tail tentatively brushing against his own. “I was happy with you. Why do you think I never told you anything? Because I… I was afraid I would lose you, because you mean… meant so much.”
“You shouldn't have felt afraid. I should have told you how much I lo- liked you.”
“Stop thinking like that.” Muttered the warrior. 
“Like what? It's the truth, I made you so unhappy-”
“Stop making assumptions about what I feel!” Hissed Macaque, fangs lightened up by the house warm lights. “If I'm telling you I was happy, it means I was happy. Stop doing that!”
“I… sorry.” Whispered the King, eyes closed, perhaps to escape the warrior's heated gaze. 
“Why do you think Mister Maquawke was unhappy, Mister King?”Gently asked Sandy. 
“Because… then… It would explain why he abandoned me under the mountain. He was sick of me.” Muttered the sage, claws firmly planted in the couch, as if he was trying to keep himself there, and not flee far away from this room. 
“What are you talking about?” Asked the warrior, and it pierced his chest, that he could, once again, brush aside his 500 years of solitude as if it was nothing. 
“What do you think I'm talking about!?” Roared the King, heart hammering loudly, almost painfully. Years of pain, of tears, of hatred, of despair, crashing upon him at once. “You left me.” He curled on himself, hiding from the other eyes. “After our fight, you left me alone, for so long.”
“I… I had to return to the mountain.” Explained the warrior. 
“But you could visit, it would've been easy with your powers.” Muttered the King, throat tight, filled with an old venom that festered in his skin for too long. 
“Wukong, the whole world knew of your imprisonment. It was a mess back home, I had to fight back all the cocky demons that wanted your territory.” 
“Still, I felt so alone, it was so hard. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I waited for you.”
“You screamed at me the moment I went to see you!” Spat the macaque. 
“Because I was hurt! I wanted to apologize but you never came back.” Groaned the King, hands trembling under the force of his emotions. 
“I… Your prison was eyed by Heaven, I couldn't risk them finding me, and taking me, the monkeys, the mountain needed someone. They needed their warrior-”
“You're all-hearing, Macaque! You could have sneaked in so easily, you did it once! Just admit you were sick of me, that you never cared. I was hurting so much, I just… I began to hate you for leaving me.”
“I cared! That's my problem! I cared about you too much!” Screeched the warrior. “I care so much I never took your place as King even when they pleaded me to. It would have been so easy, and it would have solved everything, all the demons would have backed off if the mountain had a King. But I knew how much you cared about that title, how much it meant to you! So I was never able to steal it. So I just endured, endured and endured everything. Fighting off demons and hunters. Dealing with the mortal monkeys. Trying to find them homes, to find them food! I has to deal with every fucking demons you pissed off, everyone that seeked revenge on us! Then I had to deal with Erlang! The mountain was dead, and it needed its King to heal! I had to deal with sickness and starvation! And when I think I can be free of this fucking nightmare because you're not under the mountain anymore, I learn you're joining a monk!?? You joined Heaven! Did you even think about us!? How it would've affected us! We were surrounded by demons' territories for God's sake. What do you think they did when they learned of your betrayal!?? Don't you dare say I don't care about you! Yeah, maybe I was also afraid to see you too, but I did so much for you, Wukong. I dedicated so much to you, don't talk to me about selfishness. If anything, you're the selfish one, it's always me, me, me, with you!”
“I'M SORRY” Roared the sage, cheeks strained with burning tears. “I'm sorry you had to live through all of this! But all I asked for was a word, an explanation! You left me alone to rot while I was tortured by Heaven's lackeys! What was I supposed to think!? I just needed a word. A visit once a year would have been enough! It would have been better than 500 years of fucking silence!! Did you think I had a choice when I joined the monk !? I was under a mountain for 500 years, I didn't have ANY choice! And then, when I see you again, you're trying to kill my fucking master while talking about “saving me or whatnot”-
“I thought he was hurting you!!” Replied the macaque.
“I told you he wasn't! I told you to leave me alone!!”
“Ohhh, that's so like you!! So you killing me wasn't a mistake, so you never regretted it!? I GUESS I JUST DESERVED IT DON'T I-”
“DON'T YOU DARE!!” Screamed the sage, he jumped on his feet, breath struggling to pass his lips, eyes blurred by his own tears. “I FUCKING LOVE YOU OF COURSE I REGRETTED IT!”
“WELL IT DIDN'T SEEMS LIKE IT WHEN YOU PUT YOUR STAFF THROUGH MY EYES JUST AFTER I TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU!” Screamed the warrior as he jumped on his feet, Sun Wukong felt something vile rising within him, all his emotions clogging his throat. The memory of it was unbearable. He rushed to Sandy's bathroom, throwing himself on the toilet and puking everything inside of him. “Don't hold me back! I'm out!”Screeched Macaque, the sage heard him leave the house, his tail lashing at each of his steps. 
Sun Wukong cried above the toilet, regretting ever trying to talk about this. 
This was a mistake. 
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strywoven-moved · 2 years
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@endfought requested : ✏️
𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.
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tr: Alli, Admittedly , we've not known each other long , but I echo your sentiment by saying I am glad to get to know you regardless. Truthfully , I hope we get the chance to become closer ! So , don't be a stranger ! I always love our chats , gossiping about muses , talking about whatever ... You're very easy to talk to. I will also die on the hill of Jen / Kaen's dynamic ; sorry not sorry , I love them to bits and you can pry them out of my dead , gay hands. Just know , I would love to throw more of our muses together and if you want more plots or threads ... Literally come talk to me about them , dork ! >:)
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lockea · 6 months
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I've been seeing a lot of Discourse around outdoor cats that talks past one of the biggest problems addressing community cats/outdoor working cats so I thought I'd chime in with my two cents.
Many arguments I see just... don't think about the cats at all? Or don't consider the logistics of actually addressing the feral cat problem in a humane way. It's always about how outdoor cats shouldn't be outdoors, which is neither realistic nor helpful.
I used to volunteer at an municipal animal shelter in the USA that had a TNR program (Trap, Neuter, Return) and also adopted out community cats to local farms and businesses. Here's my side of the story.
"Your cat doesn't need to be outside" -- Yes, correct. Your domesticated (non-feral) house cat does not need to go outside at all. They can have a fully actualized life safely indoors. When I see this argument, proponents of indoor only cats are correct in most or all their arguments regarding this.
"Outdoor cats are the largest invasive species in the world, and decimate bird populations." -- This is also correct, and part of the reason why you can help by bringing your house cat indoors. Cats are the largest invasive species. Spay and Neuter your cats, bring them inside, and socialize them so they don't become feral.
"TNR doesn't work." -- False. Whether we like it or not, feral cats exist. We have two methods by which we can address the feral cat population -- decimating them (humanely euthanizing the whole colony) or TNR. For a long time, euthanasia was the preferred way to address the feral cat problem. Afterall, if the cats aren't there, doesn't that save the local wildlife population?
Except that we found, studying these colonies, that when a colony is wiped out, the cats of another colony will spread into their territory and continue to have kittens and the population of feral cats is neither controlled nor diminished.
Hence, TNR. What we found performing TNR on cat colonies was that this controlled the population of the colonies, allowing them to stay in their territory, which kept other colonies from spreading (especially colonies we hadn't performed TNR on yet). We at the shelter felt this was the most humane way to control the feral cat population and safely deflate their existence without dealing with the population blooms that euthanasia caused.
"What about kittens?" -- Kittens from these colonies were brought into the shelter, socialized, and fostered out until they could be adopted. Some of these semi-feral kittens needed special homes to be adopted into, but this was the best quality of life for these cats.
"What about cats that get missed during TNR?" -- We would return to the colony several times over a period of several years to perform TNR on the same colony. We mark cats that have been neutered by clipping their ear (this is done humanely, but is the most reliable way to tell if a cat has been neutered so the poor thing doesn't have to have surgery 3-4 times in their life). Also, during the TNR process the cats would be vaccinated to ensure disease did not spread from the colony (i.e. rabies). Still, even getting 60% of the colony TNR'd would dramatically reduce the number of kittens being added to the colony each year. This controlled the population by allowing the territory to naturally deflate in size over time, buying us time to address the larger feral cat problem.
"What if the colony was in an unsafe location?" -- There were two ways we addressed unsafe colony locations -- remember, we know that when the colony is removed, a new colony will move into its place, so we tried not to move the colony unless we really felt the cats or the public was unsafe -- one was to move the whole colony to a new location. Preferably someplace like a warehouse where we have an agreement with the owners of the warehouse. Some of the cats were even relocated to shelter grounds as our community cats. If the colony was small enough we would bring them into our Feral Cats room and adopt them out as community cats.
"What is a community cat?" -- The way the program worked, was that anyone who needed a working cat could apply to the program. These were often rural farmers or businesses with warehouses that needed rodent protection. We trained the farmers and businesses on how to acclimatize the cats to their new home, and as part of the agreement, they had to care for the cats (veterinary care, vaccinations, food and water). This gave businesses and farms an alternative to expensive and environmentally unfriendly rodent control, and also gave these feral cats good places to live out their natural lives.
"Can't you just adopt out feral cats?" -- No. Cats that have not been socialized around humans as kittens, or who have several generations of feral cat in them could not interact with humans in a way that did not cause them undue stress. This was not a humane way to handle feral cats. However, when a cat was brought into the feral cat room, they would be monitored for up to a week. If the cat displayed signs of being semi-social or fully social (hanging out outside of their den, allowing staff to pet them, showing interest in staff in the room), then we would either move the cat into the adoption room or place them in foster to be socialized before adoption. Feral cats who displayed signs of being able to live full and healthy lives with human companions were NOT adopted out as community cats. We also observed this behavior during TNRs and would do the same for those cats too.
"But aren't cats bad hunters?" -- Compared to other species, cats are not the most effective form of rodent control. This is true. However, you have to understand that feral cats exist. There is no "undo" button we can push to stop them from existing. We have to deal with the problem we have right now, which is to safely and humanely decrease the number of feral cats in our communities. And yes, we do that by using cats as rodent control in the community.
"What can I do?" -- Stop saying community cats shouldn't exist. That's not helpful and doesn't solve the problem we have. Bring your cat indoors. Spay and neuter your cats. Adopt from shelters. Volunteer with a TNR team. Support TNR efforts in your community. Recognize that those of us actively dealing with the community/feral problem are trying to do what is in the best interest of our communities and the animals we love. We aren't sitting over here saying these cats should exist -- a feral cat will not have the same quality of life as one that is indoors with a family -- but we have to address the problem in practical terms. We don't have the moral high ground to just do nothing while pontificating solutions that have no basis in actuality.
And yes, it's okay to celebrate community cats. If your local farm has a couple of working cats, that means that farm is helping participate in the safe deflation of the feral cat population. Don't shame a farm or business for using community cats. We're all doing the best we can to solve the problem that we have.
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bluerosefox · 1 year
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Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!
"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."
Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.
"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"
But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.
"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"
An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)
"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"
"...Losers bet...."
Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.
"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."
He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.
Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)
"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"
Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.
Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.
"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."
"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."
"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."
"Talia."
Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.
So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.
It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...
Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.
After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.
And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.
He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...
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blkkizzat · 19 days
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YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit
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🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:
⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.
⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.
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The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.
The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.
However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper. 
Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.
Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.
Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.
The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan. 
Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course. 
Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche. 
But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you. 
Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.
It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you. 
Even a blind man could see the truth of it.
Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed. 
And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now. 
Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.
Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.
Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you. 
A life of ease. 
That said, it would never be too easy. 
Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely. 
Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.
Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too. 
As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.
Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone. Numbed to the world, his hand had gripped the sleek black urn that had mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.
And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.
But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.
Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji? 
Certainly not Sukuna.
Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.
Toji recalls your second encounter with a sharpened clarity. It had taken him only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.
Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.
Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.
Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness. 
Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that. 
Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.  
Not anymore. 
Not since her at least. 
But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you. 
A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.
Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.
A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.
Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.
Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping. 
The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna. 
Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.
Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence. 
His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing. 
Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.
The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.  
However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene. 
Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.
Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well. 
Damn.
Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer. 
He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind. 
Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.
The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.
You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you? 
Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?
Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.
True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items. 
You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you. 
Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.
The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better. 
You were truly perfect, well nearly so.
After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type. 
How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.
You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon. 
Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.
Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.
Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.
The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.
“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”
Heh, took ya long enough to notice. 
“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”
A flagrant lie. 
Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him. 
He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision. 
You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.
And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.
“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—” 
“—Toji, ma.”
A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.
“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”
Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi. 
He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi. 
No bra too?
Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.
But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears. 
For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.
The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.
It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid. 
Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up. 
However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.
More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.
“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”
Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction. 
Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.
This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life. 
He couldn’t be wrong about you. 
You were perfect.
Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.
“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.” 
You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.
“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”
Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.
“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”
You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.
Now you were… teasing him? 
Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.
Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.
“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”
You gave Toji another playful smile.
“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”
Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.
“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”
Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him. 
You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.
“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”
“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”
“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”
“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.
Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much. 
Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest. 
Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.
Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.
Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.
“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.” 
Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.
“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”
You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture. 
Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought. 
Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.
But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.
That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.  
Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.
“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”
“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”
“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”
Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock. 
Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.
“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”
Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.
“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”
Toji relished the win as your smile returned. 
“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”
With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.
Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.
Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind. 
Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.  
However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—
“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”
–all to himself.
Tch, a fuckin’ friend?
Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.
Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.
Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days. 
Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that. 
Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.
The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.
Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that. 
He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours. 
How well have you gotten to know each other? 
And in what ways?
The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.
Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him. 
And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.
“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”
So that woman did intend to leave. 
Good. 
The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared. 
Toji couldn’t have anything or anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were.
“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”
Toji’s teeth clenched. 
They dared to make phone contact even?
And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?
What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?
Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.
“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”
Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.
Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking. 
It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.
“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”
Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.
“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”
“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”
This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.
Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours. 
Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.
“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”
Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though. 
“—Toji, ma.”
When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.
You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.
Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them up all over himself.
Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.
Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you. 
As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.
Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’. 
The fuck happend?!
Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you. 
“Oy, mamas!”
You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully. 
You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.
“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”
Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.
“Thank you?!” 
God, you were beautiful—even pissed off. 
Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly  gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation. 
“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”
Shit. 
You were actually pissed. 
Ah fuck. 
Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.
“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”
Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.
“—then what?! Say something!”
Toji had to think fast. 
He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji just really wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you. 
Nonetheless, Toji really only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation. 
Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him. 
Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.  
But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.
In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.
“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.
He had to be sure to sell it. 
“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.” 
Toji shifted his stance, readjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.
“So, you told him we were…?” 
You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.
Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?
Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.
“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”
Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.
“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”
You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him. 
He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of. 
“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.” 
Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.
Well shit, bullet dodged.
“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”
Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.
“—Wait ma!”
And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.
“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”
Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back. 
Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily. 
The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.
He knew you knew that too.
You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.
And you did.
“Okay, why not...” 
Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice. 
The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness. 
Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat. 
Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.
The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted. 
However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.
Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips. 
Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock. 
Fuck. Get it together. 
But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him. 
The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes. 
Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.
And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit. 
Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absentminded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing. 
He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.
Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers. 
And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.
You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was. 
Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car. 
Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English. 
Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.
If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win. 
But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.
Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.
Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.
It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.
It was…cute.
Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute? 
You were cute though, especially with the kids. 
That he didn’t mind admitting. 
Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.
Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.
With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.
Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.
Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted. 
“—and just what the fuck is this?”
Motherfucker.
Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone. 
But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached. 
Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.
Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here. 
Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than meticulous intel source. 
According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji. 
Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.
Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza. 
Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.
Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna. 
Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.
He noticed you running the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.
Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?
Toji had.
“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”
You could never be a bother to Toji.
Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him? 
After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?
Were—were you falling for him, already?
The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival. 
You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?
Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.
Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.
Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.
As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.
“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”
Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable: 
Sukuna owned you.
So that's how it is, eh? 
Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.
Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys.
Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery, 
Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right. 
But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself. 
Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though. 
“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?” 
Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.
Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat. 
“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”
Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling. 
Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.
Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.
Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed. 
Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place. 
Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence every time too. 
Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway. 
As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization. 
This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times. 
“Rooster, eh—”
Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.
Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings.
More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.
Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.
“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?” 
Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.
But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him. 
It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway. 
Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.
Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.
All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.
With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.
“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”
Toji turns to Sukuna.
“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”
Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.
Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.
Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.
Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.
Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.
Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.
Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.
Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji. 
Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now. 
You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll. 
Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.
Sukuna was still making you cum. 
And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.
Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard. 
Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.
Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt. 
His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.
But—Fuck. 
Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.
He was a killer after all. 
Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock. 
Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip. 
Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering. 
His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.
The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.
Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against. 
With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.
His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.
Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.
Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure. 
If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock. 
Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts. 
Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt. 
Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand. 
He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was. 
Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.
Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake. 
Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself to release a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.
Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand. 
With a curled lip and narrowed-in eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye. 
A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.
Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.
Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.
Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.
Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you. 
Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.
Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization. 
A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force—for god knows how long.
Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.
The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.
Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord. 
But what other choice did he have? 
He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.
And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.
That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.
You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now. 
You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.
Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends. 
Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more. 
Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again. 
The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.
His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.
This is why Toji likes working alone. 
Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient. 
Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to. 
But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best. 
Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.
By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed. 
Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.
His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.
But that could wait. 
For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.
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©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.
⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.
i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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Alley Boyfriends Part 2
It turns out pretending to be a fake boyfriend involved more planning than Danny had realized was necessary.
Personally, he was thinking he would occasionally be asked to hold Tim's hand in semi-public, tell people about maybe three or four fake dates, and be done with it.
Tim, on the other hand, created a backstory that would make any Dungeon Master weep in complicated worldbuilding joy.
"Why would we keep our relationship a secret?It has to be a valid reason for why we meet in a back alley most of the time but still go out in public to eat." Tim asked him, three notebooks spread around him. All three were written in code, but once they finished creating the tale to his preference, Tim planned on burning them.
Cause that was something people in Gotham did. He wasn't even joking. One of his coworkers invited him to a journal-burning just last week. He went to see what it was about, turns out it was this cities verson of a block party. There were a lot of little groups hudled around movaible fire pits, throwing in paper, laughing and drinking and just being merry.
He checked online to ensure he hadn't accidentally joined a cult. He hadn't; Gotham was just like that.
"I'm from the Midwest—a small town in the Midwest. Maybe I'm not out yet?" Danny suggests with a shrug, slumping in his chair to get comfortable.
Tim snaps his fingers at him with a manic light in his eyes. "That's brilliant. We'll have to go through all your social media to screen for any hints of you being in the alphabet mafia. Now, why would you worry about being spotted four states away? Internalized homophobia?"
Danny shrugs, watching Tim consider his notes, flipping between pages on all three notebooks. Apparently, to ensure their cover story worked, Tim needed to have a notebook dedicated to three themes. The first was their Mental choices—such as a profile of their personalities both before and after their "dating," when they fell in love, and how their upbringing affected them in romantic relationships.
Physical choice—such as how many times they held hands and where the dates were, their attraction types in the pshycal sense, and where they met.
Finally, there weres the Narrative choices—these were people outside their couple. Who saw what, when, and how?. Social media was in there.
"No. That doesn't make sense." Tim sighs showing him the Narrative one. On it are a jamble of words, written so tiny, even if they were noraml Danny would not understand them. "See? Your online humor is about thirty percent gay. Not to mention you've been to Pride in Gotham already."
Tim taps the other notebook, where, supposedly, he is gesturing to the proof of Danny being too comfortable in gay spaces to have internalized homophobia. Danny wonders why he needs this much information, and who the hell would look so far into their fake realtionship.
Once again he wonders who Tim is. Oh, he's been making coffee for the other for days now. Always having his travel mug ready to go at seven am sharp for the other to pick up in the Alley, and had texted him for quick meet ups to trade Heart Attak Coffee.
Sometimes they would send funny memes to each other, and ask eachother about their day. They messaged but it waswn't really deep.
It's also been too late to ask Tim for his last name. It would be embarrassing to admit he either forgot when the other told him or he forgot to ask. His mother would be horrified by his manners.
"It would be sense if we were closer to your hometown, but this would barely hold up against my employees, much less the family." Tim sighs taking a long sip of his coffee. At once, Danny watches his whole body relax, and his eyes light up.
He wonders about that too. Tim reacted to Heart Attack coffee like a ghost interacting with their Obsession.
Tim isn't dead or died from what Danny can tell, but he had obvious signs of death around him. Not enough to be liminal like Jazz, so he wasn't ecto-exposed nor haunted.
He has likely just been in many life-threatening situations. Danny had noticed back in Amity that people like firefighters, military, police officers, and the like- those whose entire jobs meant putting themselves at risk- had the sense of Death gently curling around them. Almost like a flirtation.
He seen a lot more people like that in Gotham, though ussally they were on the opposite side of the previous named workers and he realized that Tim had to be involded in something.
Something big, if the nice suits, expensive coats, countless flowers, tips, and free lunches were any indication. Should he be worried about being in a fake relationship with him?
"Oh! We're a secret because this is both of our first boyfriends!" Tim cheers after a moment. "We are both worried about two different things. I don't want to mess things up due unresolved attachment and abandonment issues not to mention my terrible self-worth and communication skills."
That.....is terrifying self-aware. Danny can only stare as Tim nods his head, flipping some pages and writing more notes down. He switches between green and blue ink pens whenever he is writting so he knows which note applies to who.
Danny thinks he's green.
"You, on the other hand, have a mix of fear of your family finding out, terrible self-esteem due to years of bullying, and fear of commitment. I think we both can play off feeling that if we can't be of use to people, they will leave us mentality, so we never set up proper boundaries just to be safe." Tip pauses, tapping the pen to his bottom lip, eyes focused intensely on his work.
There is a hint of....ghost in his eyes, gleaming just behind his humanity.
He is Ghost King, which means he does not control or know when someone dies, as that is out of his jurisdiction. Not everything that dies becomes a ghost, just like not every ghost has ever lived after all.
In fact, not all of his citizens were humans to begin with or came from humans.
He had command of demons, in the same sense that he did concepts like Time (Clockwork) because they were between Realms. The ones that fell between the cracks of the fabric of worlds were Danny's.
Still, he came to recognize that someone had the potential to be one when their time came. Tim was most definatily a ghost in the making.
That left the question. What would be his Obsession once Tim finished forming?
Something directly involved in his death like Box Ghost (Crushed by a box due to his co-workers' careless prank?) Or something he felt he should have been given in life like Young Blood (Too sick to enjoy his childhood like other children and resentful of neglectful parents who ignored his pain?)
Danny tried to picture it, but they could see a glowing figure racing about wanting coffee and being unnecessarily involved with event planning.
Then again, he thinks, watching as Tim takes small glances at him as if making sure he is still there. He might be Obsessed with routines and being needed by people.
It wasn't really about the lack of caffeine. Instead, it was about the fact Heart Attack Coffee had been a comfort since childhood. Tim needed to feel like he was in control. Danny noticed that the second the other had burst into tears after being denied the coffee.
It was like taking Ember's guitar. His soul had dimmed. That's why Danny gave it to him while carefully checking to ensure Tim wasn't being Overshadowed. If he was, then he would kick the ghost's ass in the alley, away from wandering eyes.
He shivers again when a coldness from his chest zips across his limbs. Ever since Danny developed his ice core, he felt that he had been susceptible to the cold. He still remembers the day his core formed, how he was shivering in the summer to Sam's and Tucker's confusion.
He often found himself piling on scarves and sweaters, even when outside of winter.
Gotham wasn't nearly as cold as Amity Park- they would get a lot of snow compare to here- but it didn't seem to matter to his core.
He gets up to drag over the space heater and figures he may as well get some hot chocolate. His stomach growls, reminding him food would be a good idea, too. "You want something to eat Tim?"
There is a grunt that he learned meant "Yeah, I can eat" from Tim's hunched-over form. He smiles, grabbinghe throw blanket to wrap around himself.
His apartment wasn't too bad considering it was close to Crime Alley. It was odd and a bit outdated, but it was enough space for one person, the hot water lasted longer, and there was no mold or break-ins.
It nearly made up for the fact the walls were paper thin, which did nothing to keep the bitter Jack Frost out; his landlord shut off the heat a few weeks ago for "maintenance" and did not turn it back on.
According to his neighbors, he always does so to save funds. It sucked, but none of them could afford to move away, Danny included.
It would be bearable if Danny's insides weren't literally freezing.
He starts to cook a nice warm soup, chopping up some chicken and noodles, mindful of Tim's continued muttering in the background. It's nice, like having his own white noise machine.
A second wave of ice-ice cold races over his body. Danny glances at Tim, but it seems the other had gotten comfortable near his space heater, and it would be rude to take it across the room just because he was cold when his guest was already using it.
Maybe he'll buy a second one at the second-hand store on his next paycheck. He watches his soup boil as he adds some spices for flavoring, curling in on himself as the throw blanket seems to not be warming him fast enough.
He hates when he gets cold fits like this. They don't happen as often now that he pratice with his ice core but they effect his human side the longer he goes without ising his ice powers.
In a anti-meta city like Gotham he just hasn't found a safe place to do that yet.
Danny's hands ache from the trembles running through them- he slips on some gloves, trying to squeeze warmth back into it. He then goes across the room to the hooks by the wall after giving in, there he puts on a scarf, his coat and a beanie so his ears can warm up too.
"Are you cold?" Tim asks as Danny returns to the stove
Danny laughs from where he is stirring the soup. It is such an understatement he can't do anything else. "Freezing."
"Why not turn up the heat?"
"Landlord shut it off." Danny shrugs at Tim's look of disbelief. "It's okay I've gotten used to it. Just need to make a nest of clothes later to warm up. Soup will help too."
"Does he shut off your heat often enough that you've gotten used to it?" Tim's voice is strangely flat. Danny shrugs.
"He shuts off stuff, like the AC and electricity all the time. A month ago, he shut off the water; that was a rough two weeks." Danny jokes, thinking of how often he had to use the public bathrooms at the library to brush his teeth; he showered in the community gym. He tells Tim this. "Thank the Ancients for the Waynes. If it wasn't for them funding the gym, library, and laundry mat I probably would have it worse"
Tim stares at him for a long minute. Without a word, he reaches for his work laptop, which lay close to the side in favor of the notebooks two hours ago.
Danny isn't sure what exactly Tim does for work—he isn't sure it's legal, so he reframes from asking—but he does know that recently, he has been over to Danny's apartment a lot more to hash out the details and doing remote work at the same time.
He boots it up, fingers flying over the keyboard at a speed that still impresses Danny, even after seeing him type for the past few days. Assuming he returned to work, Danny returned to his own task. He carefully pours them both two bowls- mindful of his gloves- and warms up the mild for their hot chocolates.
They are not the healthiest of combinations, but both boys are comfortable with odd food choices. He caries the tray back to the table, blaket dragging behind him.
Tim stares intensely at the screen, nodding thanks to him when he puts a bowl down by his hand. "What do you think of this?"
Danny glances at the screen and sees a really lovely penthouse. It's spacious, overlooking Gotham's diamond district with five rooms, two baths and even a boucany pool and hottub.
It screams money, with its large arched windows, dark carpet, and grey pillars. He even spots a grand piano in the living room. Danny whistles, "Damn, I would love to live there."
"Okay, it's yours," Tim says, clicking the chat box with the realtor. He types out a quick agreement for the purchase and opens another tab with his private banker and lawyers, commanding them to have the place ready for him in two days—all without reaching for his mouse. An agreement comes through before Danny can do anything other than gawk as Tim adds his name to the owner's list.
Tim seems unaware of Danny's flabbergasted look of awe as he taps into a few more tabs, researching cleaning crews and moving companies. "We can move you on your day off. The cleaners can help you pack if you need it while you're at work, and the moving crew can get it over the city for you. I'm also buying this place. It's ridiculous that he just shuts things off. "
Just who in the world is this guy!?
____________________________________________________
Across the city, Babs stares at Tim's online orders. She has been told to keep an eye on himbecause Jasons worries about his suspected drug problem.
Everyone in the family has been somewhat uneasy about the possibility. Babs will admit her heart broke when she found hours and hours of him meeting the same shady looking teenager entering the same back alley over and over again.
He always came out looking flustered and a bit jittery, and she also thought it wasn't a secret lover like Bruce and Dick had hoped. She had always been a least optimistic, and her cameras- even the ones she hacked into to review recorded surveillance for the past three showed her the ugly truth.
Tim was an addict.
She had been working on her letter for the intervention they would be holding for him, typing past her tears, when this popped up. She blinks and takes her glasses off to wipe them before checking to see if she is seeing correctly.
But nope, the words stay the same. She slowly reaches for her headset and clicks it on. At once, her ear overflows with various voices from everyone on the field.
Tim is the only one not out currently, but she can clearly see why.
"Tim just bought a penthouse for Danny Fenton. He also has two sets of cleaning crews, one to Fenton's address and one to his own. Two sets of moving crews have been added to both addresses, each ending at the same penthouse. He's going to be living with him," She announces, silencing everyone at once. "Does that sound like drug dealer behavior?"
"Omg," Dick cries at once. Relief and joy overlap his voice as he screams into the mics "Love wins!"
"Let's not celebrate too soon. We still have to figure out what the hell those alley meetings are about," Jason warns. "If it is a drug dealer, moving in together will be the worst thing possible to T."
"Agree. We prob him but carefully so he doesn't catch on." Bruce comands "Act as ussual to get as much information out of Tim."
"So.....we throw him a house warming/investation on his boyfriend party?" Steph asks the sound of wind accompanies her words. She is likely grappling towards Danny's apparment to check on Tim.
She has gotten the habit of doing so ever since Danny has been flagged by Jason. Steph has reported the same thing evertime. Tim seemed to just been doing work at Danny's table, drinking teas and cuddling together in front of Danny's cheap tv.
She thought it was all very domestic, even when her eyes tracked every movement Danny made. Of course she couldn't get too close least Tim would catch on.
"Exactly."
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szqnxi · 3 months
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Make...Love?
Shoto Todoroki x reader
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Tsuyu hosted a sleep over at her room and all of Class 3-A girls are invited.  Obviously, a sleep over won't be complete without fluffy cushions, games, gossips and a special mention of Yaoyorozu's tea.
You guys have been playing truth or dare for a while, it's just you and Uraraka that hasn't got their turns which makes you uneasy. You honestly don't know what Mina would ask you to do and you've already seen the things the girls did. One thing's for sure, this woman is scary.
"So...... Izuku right?" Mina asked as she turned to Uraraka who's face is now turning bright red.
"I don't like where this is going" Uraraka replied, trying to hide her flushed face in the palm of her hands, which activated her quirk, causing her to float around the room.
Mina giggled a little maniacally at Ochaco's words. In her head, she's thinking of all the things she would have her do, but you know she won't torment the poor girl that much. The pink haired removed "truth" as a choice because according to her, that's no fun at all. The girls agreed, including you, which you kind of regret now.
"So the dare is--" she paused, thinking for a second. "You need to send Midoriya a selfie. You can't tell him it's for a dare tho" this made Uraraka groan as she sat back beside Jirou. 
"Oh! You need to ask his opinion about your new necklace as well" Hagakure added and Yaoyorozu agreed. The girls gave each other a high five while Uraraka let out a defeated sigh.
She opened her front camera and positioned the phone above her head, tugging on the chain slightly. She showed us the picture before sending it to Izuku. The picture was rather suggestive in your opinion; the angle made her necklace pop up, but the top part of her bossom is visible in the background, it didn't help that her face is a little red in the photo as well.  
Uraraka:    *Sent a photo* 
                   Deku-kun, what do you think of new my necklace? 
                                                                   message delivered
 
"Now we wait" Mina cheerfully said and turned to you "You've been awfully quiet y/n" you can't help but to notice that grin plastered on her face and you know damn well she's up to no good.
"Let's get this over with" you told her with a sigh. You just wanted to quickly finish whatever suffering she's going to put you through.
Jirou pulled out her phone, searched for something before handing it to Mina. While they were busy discussing something, you nervously turned to Momo who's currently adjusting the eyeglasses he took from Iida "Can I back out?"  but she just gave you a cheeky smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Goodluck" 
Momo was the first one to be dared; her dare was to walk up to Iida, grab his glasses, wear it in front of him and walk away without saying anything. Tsuyu was dared to sit on Shoji's lap for 20 minutes. Hagakure had to confess on her long time crush, Ojiro, and lastly, Jirou was dared to shower Denki with praises for 10 minutes straight. Mina, on the other hand, was dared to kiss Bakugo on the cheeks, and you can already guess what happened next.                                                         
A phone was shoved into your line of sight. "You need to do this" Mina said while she pointed at the phone with a video playing. You look at her horrified but she just laughed at your face. 
"But with who?" Tsuyu asked.
"Todoroki" Uraraka grinned. 
"Yep. Definitely Todoroki." Jirou crossed her arms and nodded while her eyes are closed. 
You looked at them confused.  Although you do have a  crush on Shoto, you have never told anyone about it nor show even a slight interest at him. You can feel your face heat up at the sudden realization that your friends knows about your little crush on him all along. 
You sighed in defeat and just accepted the dare. What can possibly go wrong, right?
"We'll be watching" Mina winked at you as you guys marched towards the common area where the boys are hanging out. The girls stopped by the stairs, peeking a little. You made your way towards the couch where Kirishima and Shoto are sitting.  
"Yo, y/n" Kiri greeted you and you just replied with a nod.
You sat beside Shoto who was munching on a chocolate chip cookie. He offered you a piece which you happily took and ate beside him. 
"Oh this is good! Who made this?" you asked.
"I made it" Shoto turned to you. "I asked Kirishima and Bakugo to teach me" you nodded and quickly look away. You quietly scanned the whole room; Kiri and Shoto are minding their own business eating the cookies Shoto made, the Baku-squad are playing a video game while Izuku and the others are playing a monopoly game, though Izuku isn't really playing, he's just staring at the screen of his phone, looking very red. 
You can't help but to chuckle to yourself. You quickly glanced towards the girls and Mina mouthed "now". Unbeknownst to you, Kiri was also looking at the girls direction, when your eyes landed on him, he gave you a confused look and you just replied with an apologetic look. His mouth turned into a circle when realization hits him.
'A game huh' he mouthed and you answered with a nod.
"Shoto" you turned to him.
"Yes?" 
"Can we--" here goes nothing "make...love?" You can see Kirishima choke on his cookie in your peripheral vision.
"Make love?" he asked, confused. 
You nodded. You can feel your face heat up. You looked away, not wanting to see the look on Shoto's face, you mentally wished that the couch would swallow you up because of the embarassment you feel.
You don't know what Shoto's response will be, but knowing him, you're sure he'll be nice at least. You mentally braced yourself for a rejection you're about to face. Or so you thought.
"Sure, but do we even have the ingredients for that?" 
"What?" You and Kirishima said in unison. 
Shoto looked at you two, confusion visible on his face. 
"This is the first time I've heard about that dish" he stated. Kirishima snorted and finally let out the laugh he's been holding for so long, while you bit your inner cheek to hold back yours. Shoto on the other hand, ignored the red head and called Bakugo instead.
"Bakugo, can you send me the ingredients for love?" he asked as he pulled out his phone and started searching for the dish called love. 
"What the fuck, Icy-Hot?!" Bakugo yelled, his eyes landed on Shoto, his face looking like he just heard the stupidest thing in the world. This took the attention of your other classmates as well.
His gaze left his phone, he quickly looked at you then at Bakugo "Y/n said they wanted to make lov-" you hurriedly jumped from your seat to cover Shoto's mouth. 
"Ah! Oh my gosh don't mind him! It's a dare!" You half shouted.  Your classmates just laughed at you, you can feel your face heat up due to embarrassment. 
'Screw you Mina' you thought to yourself.
"Didn't know you're freaky like that y/n" Denki teased you. The others gave you a teasing look as well.
"It's a dare!" You shouted in horror. 
"Sure, if you say so" he and the others laughed and get back to playing again. Kirishima, who's laughing with the others, stood up and bid farewell to the both of you. "I'll leave you guys to your own business" he said with a wink. 
You just sighed. You're pretty sure all of your classmates will be teasing you for the next few days. 
"Y/n" Shoto mumbled under your hand. 
You quickly removed your hand from his mouth and apologized. "Sorry" you said awkwardly as you sat back on your spot again.
He just hummed. Silence took over the both of you. You quietly glanced towards the stairs and the girls are nowhere to be seen. They must've gone back to Tsuyu's room. You contemplated whether to go back to her room or not. 
You let your eyes wander and it stopped at his phone, a search tab was open and it was an article about "make love". You turned to face Shoto, you opened your mouth to explain about the dare, but before you can say something, he pulled you by the collar of your shirt and gave you a peck on the lips. 
You stared at him, wide eyed.
"I can't exactly give you what you want right now but I'm pretty sure a kiss will suffice?" he said.
"Wha-" he kissed you again. This time it was longer, until it was interrupted when a throw pillow hit the back of his head. 
"Get a room you fucking dumbasses!!" it was Bakugo. 
Great.
You gave him a middle finger and was about to talk back when Shoto pulled you away from the scene and lead you towards the second floor. 
"Where are we going?" you asked.
"Getting a room" he opened the door to his room and shoved you inside.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to give you what you want after all" he smiled at you and locked the door.
Note: As usual this isn't proofread lol. My request inbox is open!! Pls drop some, I'd appreciate it.
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pynkfairyheart · 5 months
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pairings: Onyankopon x black reader
warnings: Jean slander, smut 18+
Need you
“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “
“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.
“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.
“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.
“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.
“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.
“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.
You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?
Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.
You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.
Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.
“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.
“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.
“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.
“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”
“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”
“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.
“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”
“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.
“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.
“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.
“C’mere,” He released your ankles.
“Ony I’m not gonna-”
“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.
“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.
You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.
“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.
Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”
“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.
“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”
He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”
"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”
“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.
“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.
“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.
“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.
“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.
“Ony I-”
“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.
“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”
“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.
“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.
“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.
“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.
“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.
Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.
“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.
“I missed you too”
“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.
“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.
“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.
“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.
“Lemme show this nigga too.”
first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah
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aerynwrites · 1 year
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Longing
Halsin x Fem!Reader
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A/N: I have been burning with an intense CRAVING for Halsin and there is such little fic about him (although there are some good ones out there 👀) so I had to do my part and add to the pool 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is insecure about her virginity, talks of inexperience, love confessions, Halsin is a sweetheart, references to NSFW content. Very very minor spoilers for act 2.
Part 2
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The fur of the rabbit is soft between your fingers as you prepare it. Yet, despite having a knife in your other hand and your task being a delicate one, you can’t seem to focus.
Your eyes keep drifting back to the druid across camp chopping wood for the fire. The axe is a large one, heavy - heavier than you’d be able to lift. Yet the large elf manages to bring it up above his head and swing it back down with a grace you never understood how he possessed.
The muscles in his shoulders ripple with each movement, accompanying the rythmic thump of the axe through wood. His soft grunts as he pulls it from the stump he’s using before placing the next log onto the surface and starting the process all over again.
“The rabbit is already dead, darling.”
The familiar voice rips you from your staring as your head whips around to see none other than your vampiric companion standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. You huff at him before looking down to the rabbit by your knees and heat rushes to your cheeks. What should have been a simple skinning job to get the meat ready for dinner has turned into a mess. Cuts in the wrong places, the hide nowhere near usable anymore.
You look back up just in time to see Astarions red eyes go from you, to Halsin, then back again. His smile grows. He shifts his feet, one arm resting across his chest as he gestures with his other to Halsin.
“You know, you could paint a portrait. It would last longer.”
Your cheeks somehow get even hotter, as you turn back to the rabbit in front of you, doing a much better job than earlier.
“Leave me alone, Astarion,” you mumble, cursing internally when the elf lowers himself to the ground beside you, arms resting on his knees.
“And why would I do that, when teasing you gives me so much joy?”
You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, well you got me all flustered. So now that’s out of the way, did you need something or did you really interrupt your reading to bother me?”
The vampire sighs, leaning back on his hands as he looks over to you. “What I need is for you to finally jump that druids bones.”
You nearly choke as the words leave his lips, looking around to see if anyone heard and feeling heat creep up your neck once more as you see Shadowheart failing to hide a chuckle.
You turn to face your friend, eyes narrowed. “Could you be a little more quiet? I don’t need the whole camp hearing you.”
Astarion laughs this time, loudly, and it draws more glances than you’d like. You roughly shove the man next to you before he can speak.
“Your next words better be a whisper or I’m going to stab you ” you threaten, poking the knife in his direction.
Astarion places a hand over his heart, faux hurt in his eyes. “You wound me, darling. I’m just trying to help you. Plus,” he gestures to the camp, “it’s not like your attraction is a secret, nor Halsin’s.”
You shake your head turning back to grab another rabbit, embarrassment welling up in your chest. “He doesn’t…” you trail off, getting defensive. “Nothing’s there, Astarion. So can we please just drop it?”
Of course, he doesn’t.
“Look,” he starts, “all I’m trying to say is that neither of you are benefiting from holding back so…indulge, for once. Gods know we all deserve it.”
You ignore him. Curling in on yourself at the mention of…indulging. There nothing wrong with it of course. Everyone at camp has blown off steam along this adventure. Just…not you.
And the vampire must be able to tell too, because at your silence he straightens up, brows pinching in the rare way that shows he’s concerned.
“Wait, have you never…?” he gestures vaguely in the air.
His words, despite their genuine curiosity, strike a chord in you. You stand abruptly, tossing your work to the ground and stabbing your knife in the dirt.
“No I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” Your words are louder than you intended and draw the eyes and ears of your other companions.
Astarion softens, obviously not expecting this reaction. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“
You clench your fists at your sides, interrupting him. “You never mean to Astarion but -“ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
You turn on your heel and storm from camp before anyone can stop you, ignoring the concerned gaze of a certain druid.
———
The water is cool against your skin as you squat by the stream’s edge, rubbing at your hands as you try to get the blood off of them.
You feel foolish now, storming off like that. But Astarion pointing out your inexperience just struck you. It’s not something that’s ever bothered you before. Especially not in recent months since dealing with the tadpole. You all have more important things to worry about.
But the moment you rescued Halsin…it’s like something changed. You were instantly drawn to him. His kind smile and thoughtful words. His care for everyone and everything in nature.
And he flirted with you.
The memory is still fresh in your mind. The night of the tiefling party after you had stopped the ritual at the druid camp and saved Halsin. You were worried you were talking his ear off, but he was attentive the whole conversation. Answering your questions and asking some about you.
Then he said those honeyed words. Suggested celebrating by spending the night with someone special. Implied he would spend it with you if his mind wasn’t elsewhere.
You withdraw your hands from the water to drag them down your face as more memories surface.
More flirtatious banter and kind words. Thoughtful conversations and fighting side by side. The night sat by your bedside nursing you back to health after a particularly nasty fight. After Ketheric Thorm almost took you out.
Your side still aches with the memory. But the thought of his hands with their soothing healing glow, makes the ache subside.
You sigh, sitting back into the grass as your eyes lock onto the slowly gurgling stream, Astarion words playing over and over in your head.
Indulge, for once.
You want to. Gods do you want that.
You’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about it. About his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, the sweet words he’d no doubt whisper against your ear.
You shudder at the thought before shoving it away. Because any time he hinted at that - showed any interest in you - you would be so elated before insecurity took over.
Halsin’s views on love and intimacy are no secret. You’d asked him once about current lovers and while he did confide no one currently held his affections back home he also expressed that there were others in the past.
Others. Plural.
And you’ve never been with anyone. Not physically or emotionally, you’ve never trusted anyone enough.
Not until now.
You sigh, frustration creeping back in as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes before quickly standing up. You need to apologize to Astarion and finally, maybe, talk to Halsin.
You turn on your heel to do just that when you run straight into a solid mass. You gasp, stumbling backwards just as two strong hands reach out to steady you, gripping your wrists firmly.
Once steady, you look up to see none other than the man haunting your thoughts smiling down at you.
“You must have been very deep in thought for someone like me to sneak up on you, little one.”
You have to suppress a shiver at the nickname. A moniker he’d given you since you teased him about his size at the beginning of your friendship.
You shake your head, moving to step away and only stopping when his hands let go only to slip down and take your own gently.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I was just…thinking.”
Halsin stares at you for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before he steps away, gesturing down the first path, one hand still in your own.
“Walk with me?” he asks. “I know being in nature helps me clear my head of even the darkest thoughts.”
You give a hesitant nod and follow him as he turns towards the path, not able to stop the smile when he doesn’t drop your hand.
———
The walk is mostly silent, a comfortable silence, but silent nonetheless. And you are grateful for it, not sure what you would say if Halsin were to ask what has you so upset.
But, silence can’t last forever it seems, because eventually the large Druid breaks through the sounds of nature surrounding you to speak.
“I overheard your conversation with Astarion,” he says, voice gentle. Probing, but not not forcing you to talk if you do not wish.
You stiffen, your pace slowing slightly, wanting to pull away from the man at your side. But his sure grip on your hand keeps you in place. The warmth of his skin on yours puts you slightly at ease.
“You…you heard that?” you ask, cringing internally. “You were across camp.”
The druid chuckles, gesturing to his ears with his free hand. “One of the curses of us elves. Impeccable hearing. Even when we don’t wish for it.”
You can feel your shoulders creeping up to your ears. Embarrassment settling in once more. “You were listening to us? To me?”
Halsin shrugs. “Not intentionally,” he admits, slowing his steps until you’re both stopped and he’s facing you. “But I find my attention turning towards you more often than not these days.”
His words tie your tongue and before you can gather enough sense to respond he continues.
“Nature works in mysterious ways, little one,” he tells you, eyes never leaving your face. “There is no one way to traverse it, and others journey do not define your own. Each one is unique, as it is intended.”
His words are beautifully woven, as always. And despite his cryptic deliverance, you know the meaning behind his words.
He’s comforting you. And once again, he speaks before you can detangle the jumble of thoughts in your head.
“And,” he reaches out, placing a curled finger beneath your chin to urge you to look up at him, “if it’s any encouragement, I seek you out as much as you do me. Possibly more so.”
Your eyes widen, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. He…does he feel the same way? Rationally you know he does. But that ever familiar self doubt, the tiny voice in your mind has always brushed away the flirting - the kind words and gentle touches as just part of his nature. None of it is reserved just for you.
Right?
Halsin smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners gently as he looks down at you. “Is that really such an outlandish thought? That I return your affections?” He pauses, “unless my heart has run ahead of itself and I have misread-“
You stop him then, reaching up to place a staying hand on his own beneath your chin.
“No! You haven’t…you haven’t misread,” you assure him, trying to still your racing heart.
His smile never falters, his other hand finally coming up to cradle the back of your head, teasing soft strands of hair between his fingers.
“That is good to hear,” he says, pulling you ever closer, his nose almost brushing yours, “it puts this old druid's mind at rest.”
Gods, you can’t breathe. The air in your lungs refusing to expel as he lean even closer, lips a hairbreadth away from your own. Your body sings with anticipation, your skin hot despite the cool air ushered in by the sun sinking below the horizon, the days last rays barely filtering through the trees.
“Can I kiss you, my heart?”
Halsins words are soft, barley a whisper and nearly drowned out by the sounds of nature around you and the roaring of blood in your ears.
You nod. “Please-“
The word barely passes your lips before he descends upon you, sealing his mouth with your own.
It’s both everything you expected and completely surprising at the same time. His hands are sure as he pulls you into him, one hand still cradling your head as the other slips down to your hip before wrapping around your waist. Yet his lips, the kiss itself is…soft. Gentle. Loving. The action speaks louder than any words either of you have said to one another. Louder than the words you never worked up the courage to speak.
Finally, your mind catches up with you, and your hands slide up his chest to clutch tentatively at his shoulders.
Halsins still hasn’t broken away from you, and when his tongue brushes against your lips you let him in. You tug him closer then, one of your hands sliding up to rest at the back of his neck eliminating any empty space between you as his tongue slides against your own.
He only pulls away when he must sense your need for air, but he doesn’t go far, lips pressing gently to the corner of your own, and then another to your jaw.
You’re breathless.
Chest heaving against him, as he pulls away just enough to look at you once more.
“As much as I’d love to continue…” his hand squeezes your hip gently, “we should make our way back to camp. I can imagine our absence as stirred gossip with our vampiric companion and..” he sighs, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You can’t surprise the shiver that runs down your spine, or the smile that tugs at your lips.
“I’m…I’m okay being overwhelmed if it’s like that,” you tell him breathlessly.
Halsin laughs, a deep down genuine laugh that makes your heart sing even as he steps away from you.
“Then I will overwhelm you in all the ways I know how.” He promises, eyes trailing over you heatedly.
Your stomach does a flip at his words, and the effect they have on you must show on your face because Halsin chuckles again, leaning in to press one last kiss to your cheek before tugging you back in the direction towards camp.
“Another night, my heart,” he says, thumb brushing over your knuckles from where your hand remains in his own.
You let out a shaky breath, and nod, smiling as you walk closer to him. “I’m holding you to that.”
“I hope you would, though I doubt I will forget such a promise,” he assures before letting silence blanket you both one more.
You can’t stop the thrill that runs through you at his words.
Yes, I’ll hold you to that promise indeed.
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drdemonprince · 1 month
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I grew up with abstinence-only sex education, and it did a real number on me. But I’ve shaken off enough of my old cultural programming to realize that the transmission of bacteria and viruses is a thing that sometimes just happens when animals come together, no matter how stringently we might try to prevent it.
I have gotten urinary tract infections when a stray microbe found its way into my urethra after sex. Lube and bodily fluids have disturbed my vagina’s pH and caused a yeast infection many times. So has wearing a bathing suit for too long without drying it, yet another “risk” worth the pleasures of swimming along the sea wall.
Once or twice I’ve had an outbreak of cold sores, just like 80% of humans. If I’m like most people, I probably caught oral herpes when I was very young, sharing a sippy cup or rolling around at a sleepover.
None of this makes me disgusting, irresponsible, evil, or dangerous to others. It just makes me a living creature that exists in close contact with other creatures. I believe I have a responsibility to get tested regularly, to alert people who have been close to me when I get sick, and to use preventative measures like condoms, PreP, vaccines, toys, and masks to prevent the spread of infections as best I can. But I never imagine I can lead a life without risk — or that such a life would even be desirable.
There is no such thing as completely “safe” sex. A friend of mine can’t use condoms because they give her bacterial vaginosis. She chooses instead to fuck raw and take PreP and get anything else she catches treated. A guy I know who masks and tests religiously caught COVID while fisting someone (with a gloved hand!) at an air-filtered party. HPV is so prevalent that most sexual wellness clinics don’t bother testing for it, and can’t do much for a patient if they do have it. Our bodies are teeming at all times with various endemic viruses and microbes that we will never have the power to purge.
Then there are the possible costs of not having sex — vaginal atrophy, pelvic floor weakening, reduced access to endorphins, loneliness, touch starvation, the despair of harboring dreams that one never dares try. I can’t decide for anyone else which dangers loom the largest, but for me a gonorrhea shot is a fair trade for the hours of leg-cramping, bed-staining, hypno-kinky sex that led to it. There’s no guarantee that the next time I have sex it will be anywhere near as much fun, but the potential keeps me throwing the dice.
I hear quite frequently from sexually inexperienced Autistic people who crave an intimate connection, but desperately wish to remain responsible and “safe.” They want there to be a set of iron-tight rules they can follow that will guarantee they remain a virtuous person who never hurts anyone’s feelings, and never catches any sexually transmitted infection.
I understand why they want someone to impose order onto an unpredictable, terrifying world. But I can’t give that certainty to them, nor can anyone. All I can suggest is that they be honest with themselves about what they want, inform themselves of the costs and benefits to pursuing their desires, and then venture forward — proudly welcoming the correct risks into their life, rather than trying to avoid any risks at all.
Life is nothing but a negotiation of risk. If a person has gender dysphoria and they want to combat it, they must risk a transition they could one day regret. If an abolitionist wants to take a stand against the police state, they must plan for the possibility of arrest or political repression. When we open our hearts to love, we expose ourselves to grief — our partners will keep changing and growing, sometimes away from us. Each step that we take forward in life closes off potential paths. There is no avoiding this.
Instead of chasing after the false promise of “safety,” trying to remain completely insulated from harm and challenge forever, we must get better at admitting risk into our lives.
I wrote about all about the messy business of risk mitigation, and how the pursuit of perfect safety is used to justify isolation, theft of bodily autonomy, and political repression. It's free to read (or have narrated to you by the app!) at drdevonprice.substack.com
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helen-with-an-a · 5 months
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Badger
Hi. So this is a little thought I've had in my head for a while based on the fact that none of the English commentators can pronounce Ona's name properly.
Ona Batlle x reader
Description: You're convinced Ona doesn't like your nickname for her
Word Count: 4.2k
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It had been a gruelling game, the ball rolling end to end creating little respite for any player. Goals were flying in left and right from both sides. It was a draw in the final minute of overtime and both teams were desperate not to share points. A spectacular tackle from Ona had prevented Hemp from scoring, allowing the ball to be collected and fed all the way back up the pitch. It had ricocheted around the City box before falling to your feet. It was instinctual, not thought or planning behind it, yet as the ball sailed pasted Roebuck’s fingers – it was like it was destiny. It was by no means your first goal for United, nor your first goal of the game. But it felt like it. The crowd erupted, the music drowned out by the noise and the rush of blood in your head.
The Blues had no time to score an equaliser. You watched as the seconds ticked down – City trying to press again, although the fight had clearly been lost in them. Finally, finally, the Ref blew the whistle. Old Trafford erupted. It had been an exciting game for the fans – lots of goals, tough tackles, harsh words, decent referring. As a player it had been exhausting but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ona was the first one to you, somehow making the distance in record time despite being further down the pitch.
“Mi hermosa superestrella!” She shouted as she threw herself onto your back. You stumbled slightly, your legs feeling like jelly as the adrenaline disappeared from your veins. “Mi maravillosa, hermosa, fantástica, increíble, magnífica, bella goleadora.” She littered each word with an array of kisses to your head, her arms wrapping around your neck as she made herself comfortable – clearly showing you she wasn’t getting down any time soon.
“Stop,” you whined, getting shy under her compliments.
“Nope, never.” She laughed again, squeezing her legs tighter around your waist in a hug. You discretely pinched the underneath of her thigh, close to the hem of her shorts. “Aye,” she squealed. “Can’t a girl compliment her amor de su vida after she had an incredible game?” She pressed a sneaky kiss to your jaw as you made your way towards the fans.
You knew the fans would be going crazy over your behaviour; you had never made your relationship a secret. Ona often featured in your monthly photo dumps, your Instagram stories showing carefully selected insights into your life. Her Instagram was the same, filled with private moments that neither of you minded sharing with fans. Videos of you after matches were all over the internet – hugs that lasted too long to be just friendly, kisses pressed into sweaty hairlines and shiny foreheads, your body being wrapped around her smaller frame as the final whistle went, neither of you leaving each other sides until you were sure they were fine after a tackle gone wrong.
You were walking you way around the stadium, laughing along to Mary and Tooney’s jokes as you fell into step with them. It was as you were passing Alex and Fara that you heard your name be called out. Instinctively, you turned – naturally bringing Ona with you as she was still securely wrapped around you. Alex was beckoning you over – a microphone outstretched and an expectant smile. You tilted your head back to look at Ona, expecting her to have loosened her legs by now. Yet her grip held firm, nodding in the direction of the TV cameras. You shrugged, readjusted her on your hips and came to join the women.
“And here we have Y/F/N Y/S/N and Ona Badger,” Alex said, laughing at the way you stood. Had she really just said that?
“Hi, sorry about this one,” you gestured with your head. “She always says her legs don’t work after matches.” You teased, the three of you laughing at Ona’s indignant squawk, yet she made no move to get down. Fara offered you a microphone, watching on as you looked around a little – struggling to figure out how you were going to do the interview with Ona on your back. Ona solved that solution easily enough, taking the mic and holding it where you need it. You squeezed her calf appreciatively.
“What a match, hey? How are you feeling?”
“Yeh, it’s insane. Derby’s are always hard, and we knew it was going be a fight today, but that was something else.” You chuckled, blowing a stray piece of hair from your face – thanking Ona absentmindedly as she delicately moved it away for you. “We all knew we had jobs to do out there and we just went ahead and did it. Not much more I can say really. I have absolute faith in these girls, and I think it showed today.” You hoped it was a reasonable response. You weren’t the biggest fan of the media side of football. Pre-recorded videos and challenges you could do no issue, but the live stuff - you hated it.
“And what about you, Ona? You were up and down that pitch today like a Yo-Yo.” Fara asked. You moved your head to the side, allowing Ona the space to talk.
“Sí. Again, I just did my job. It was this one that was putting them into the back of the net.” You blushed ferociously, thanking the lucky stars that you were already quite red from the match.
You continued the interview as quickly as possible – conscious that this was being streamed live to the BBC. You skin becoming redder with every passing compliment Ona threw you way. Of course, you gave them back just as often, but she wasn’t as embarrassed by stuff like that. Eventually, the interview came to a natural end.
“Thank you so much, girls, I’ll let you get back. Ladies and Gentlemen, Y/F/N Y/S/N and Ona Badger,” you heard Alex say as you turned away. You heard Ona groan in your ear as you carried on walking.
“Come on then, Señorita Badger.” You couldn’t contain your cackle as you helped her down to sit in your cubby.
“Detener,” she whined – her arms coming to cross over her chest. “They can never say it properly. It’s so annoying.” She moaned, burying her face in your clothed stomach as you moved to untie her braid.
“My love, they are atrocious at pronouncing non-English names, you know this.” You soothed her, allowing your fingers to card through her now-loose hair. “It doesn’t make it right, but it’s not personal.”
“It’s every game though. Every interview and time someone says my name its always ‘Battle’ or ‘Badger’. I can’t decide which is worse.” She complained, moving away from your body to look at you, pouting. You matched her pout; one had coming to cup her jaw and the other to lightly trace over the crease in between her eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, my lovely. I don’t know what to say,” you admitted. “But if it makes you feel any better, they’re always saying good things.” You tried a weak smile. “You’re our best defender.” You said honestly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. This time, she really did blush.
“Deja de mentir,” she sighed.
“I’m not lying. You are an incredibly, wonderfully, amazingly talented defender.” You laughed as her cheeks darkened yet again. “And all mine.” You finished off, placing a gentle kiss to her soft lips. “I love you.” You basked in the silence between you to a little longer before adding, “my little Badger.” Her eyes snapped open, scoffing as her mouth dropping open as you laughed loudly, scurrying away to the showers before she could retaliate.
You had been calling her Badger for so long now, that you had never considered what it might look like to others, or to her. After that day in the locker room, it had slowly become more and more integrated into your daily vocabulary. It started as a nickname you used to tease her, loving how riled up she became. But then you started using it in training, shouting it out when she did something particularly impressive. Eventually, it became like any other loving nickname. You were her mi amor, and she was your Badger.
It was something you hadn’t considered when you both made the move over to Spain. It was so normal at this point. Surely, she would have said something if she didn’t like the name? You used it all the time. You wanted her to pass you the salt and pepper? You felt sad and needed a hug? She was injured and needed comfort? You were pressed up against her in the Club dancing the night away? She had done something great in training? She was irritating the crap out of you? You were annoying her and being an all-round brat? She was always Badger.
It had never crossed you mind until Alexia brought it up after training one day.
You were walking out to the car, Ona tugging on your hand to hurry you up.
“Vamos, mi amor. Apresúrate,” she pulled you harder, taking your hand in both of hers.
“Badger, you go ahead.” You laughed as she pouted. “You’re the one going on a ‘La Masia day’. In case you’ve forgotten, I wasn’t raised here.” You teased, using your strength to pulled her back to your side. “I was told in no uncertain terms by Aita that this was a Catalan only event And that she loved me, but I needed to get lost for the afternoon. You need time with your people, and I am totally ok with that, Badger.” You smiled softly at her, melting as her arms wove around your waist.
“Ona, deixa d'estar tan enamorat i afanya't.” Aitana’s loud voice drifted from across the car park.
“A la merda, Aita. Que no tinguis núvia no vol dir que hagis de ser dolent.” Ona responded. You had no idea what she was saying but even with your limited Catalan, you recognised ‘núvia’ and guessed it was something to do with you.
“Go on, Badger. Go enjoy yourself, I’ll see you at home.” You cupped her cheek with your hand, giving her a gentle goodbye kiss. She squeezed you once more before running off after Aitana– shoving her as she climbed into the backseat.
“Do you want to come for a quick coffee with us?” A voice next to you made you jump.
“Fucking hell.” You turned to see Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid standing behind you. “Jesus, warn a girl next time.” You placed a hand over your heart and took calming breaths, glaring at Mapi as she chuckled at your reaction.
“We said your name like 10 times, chica.” Alexia smiled, taking your arm, and pulling you towards her car.
“Sorry, I was just … sorry.” You stared at the pavement, a bright blush rushing to your cheeks.
“Ella está enamorada” Mapi cheered, coming up to pinch your cheeks.
“You two are way worse,” you said, gesturing between Ingrid and Mapi. “Oh, mi vida, jugaste muy bien hoy.” You dramatically threw yourself at Ingrid, laughing with her at Mapi’s incensed expression.
“No sueno asi”
“Yes, you do.” You said at the same time as Ingrid. Mapi’s shocked face made you laugh even harder as Alexia unlocked the car.
“Maps, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call her Ingrid. Even when you aren’t talking to her it’s always ‘mi vida’ or ‘mi princessa’ or ‘mi Tesoro’. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call her Ingrid. It can be quite nauseating.” You goaded her as you took your seat in the passenger side. She gasped, jokingly offended.
“Al menos no llamo a mi novia por un animalito raro.” She clicked her teeth at you.
You eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Animal? You didn’t call Ona an animal, did you? Sometimes you joked she was a koala after the matches as she clambered her way into a customary piggyback – you often made teasing remarks that you didn’t need to see one during your time in Australia because you had one at home with you. But nothing repeatedly.
“Yeh, where did Badger come from?” Alexia asked. Ohhhhh. It clicked for you - sometimes, you could be quite oblivious.
“It’s not after the animal. English commentators and interviewers can never say her name. You must’ve realised that.” The Spanish girls nodded solemnly – often being a victim themselves of mispronounced names. “Well, it started off as a joke really, Alex Scott called her Ona Badger once and it kinda went from there really.” You explained, your attention drifting to looking outside the window
“Ona’s a better woman than me.” Alexia shook her head slightly. You turned back around, looking at her side profile as she drove you towards the coffee shop.
“How-What do you mean?” You asked, confused as to what she was getting at.
“If Olga called me Patella instead of Putellas, I’d go crazy.” Alexia laughed.
“Oh. She doesn’t seem to mind it. I … don’t think?” Did she mind it? She had never said anything to you about it.
“I never said anything when Olga called me Lex for a while. But it really got on my nerves.” She added, making you feel even worse about the situation. Does she really feel like that? Do you irritate her? It must do. What you had thought was just a joke and then an eventual nickname was based on the fact that someone couldn’t pronounce her name right. That would annoy anyone, right?
The rest of the afternoon passed in a daze, the coffee trip and drive back to the training ground carpark was all a blur. Your drive home and daily routine done on autopilot as your actions and behaviours played on repeat in your head. Did Ona hate being called Badger? She must do, right? Not many people in England had struggled to pronounce your name, and you had yet to encounter someone in Spain that couldn’t do it. Your thoughts rattled in your head – leading you to the conclusion that yes, Ona must not like being called Badger. You vowed to stop making her uncomfortable.
“Hola, mi amor.” Ona called as she walked through the door. You could hear the tiredness in her voice.
“Hey, Badg-baby.” You cleared your throat, hoping to cover up your mistake. “Hey, baby.” You kicked yourself mentally for your slip up. With all your internal worry, you missed Ona’s eyebrows scrunching in confusion. You seemed ok in yourself, a little distracted maybe, but nothing noticeable. You were standing at the open fridge, trying to figure out what to make for dinner – so it must be that, Ona decided. You must be distracted by what to make. She came up behind you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your shoulder. You melted against her, like you always did. This helped calm Ona’s worries a little, beyond not calling her Badger, you were acting normal.
“What do you fancy for tea?” You asked, looking back at her.
“No m'importa, el que sigui més fàcil per a tu,” she said in Catalan. Her voice muffled by the fabric of your jumper.
“What was that, Bad-babe?” You asked her gently, recognising how tired she must be. You twisted around in her grip, closing the fridge door behind you. She looked up at you, a look of displeasure on her face. You chalked it up to her being tired from her afternoon out with the girls; she was actually annoyed that you had, once again, not called her badger.
“El que sigui més fàcil.” She repeated, still speaking in Catalan.
“The only word I recognised was fàcil, so I’m going to assume that mean quick and easy?” She smiled, as you let a finger trace over her freckles on her cheeks, something you always did when she was tired.
“Podríem fer la comanda?” She was still speaking in Catalan. Her tiredness often led to you trying to decipher Catalan – a language you were still trying to get to grips with. But you understood where she was coming from. If you were tired and then forced to speak your third language in your own home, it would not go very well. You really wracked your brains, trying to work out what she was saying.
“I’m sorry, B-honey. What was that?” You asked her, scanning your eyes cross her face.
“Order.” She said grumpily. You sighed, misunderstanding her mood again.
“Ok, my love,” mentally cheering as you didn’t slip up this time. “Let’s go to the sofa and we’ll order something.” You unwound her arms from your waist and pulled them over your shoulders, lifting her up as her legs wrapped securely around your hips. “My koala,” you teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she buried her head in your neck.
You hoped that Ona’s uncharacteristic mood was purely down to her tiredness. But after a full night’s sleep where she had refused to leave your arms – something that usually made her sleep like a baby – she still had an attitude with you. She had been fine when you woke up, a soft, sleep-filled smile gracing her beautiful face.
“Bon dia, mi amor.” She had croaked out, a gentle hum coming from her as you scratched at her head.
“Good morning, bad-baby.” Fuck, you had done it again. She pulled back from her beloved location (her face pressed against your neck, you giving her gentle scratches to gradually wake her up). With sleep still in her eyes, her hair a mess and that adorable pout, you couldn’t help but smile – you had, yet again, misattributed her pout for tiredness rather than the anger, and slight hurt, that she felt when you failed to call her Badger. She tried to think back to yesterday. You had very willingly let her go out with the girls yesterday after training, so that couldn’t have been it. Training had gone really well – you always had worked brilliantly as a pair. You had mentioned that you went out to coffee with Alexia, Ingrid and Mapi, maybe something had happened then? But you would have said something though, right? You were the one that was more open and in-touch with your feelings. You always communicated well with everyone around you, especially Ona. Yet, you were refusing to call her Badger. That name had originally been a joke, but eventually it had come to mean so much to her – it was something so unique to your relationship. Other couples could call each other baby, or love, or honey, or babe, or any of the Spanish equivalents. But only she got to be your Badger.
You were still behaving normally which is what threw her off the most. You made her the perfect cup of coffee – like every morning – giving it to her with a kiss to the top of her head as she sat at the table, trying to wake herself up. You held your hand out to her as you walked into the training centre, allowing her warm hand to intertwine with yours. You insisted she tie your hair back, humming quietly as she raked her delicate fingers across your scalp. You made her a plate of all her favourite foods at lunch. You let her rest her body into yours as you sat down, your arm coming around her shoulder as you talked to Lucy and Keira. You drove home with you hand on her thigh and the music blasting loudly. Yet you still hadn’t called her Badger. It was adding considerably to her strange mood – she wasn’t quite angry, but she wasn’t her usual bubbly self … grumpy … that was the only way to describe Ona today. Even Alexia and Patri had picked up on it, asking you if Ona was alright. You tried your best to assure them, telling them that she just hadn’t slept very well (a total lie – it was you that had lied awake staring at the ceiling as Ona’s breath puffed steadily onto your collarbone).
She led you into your house, scowling at you as you tried to make your way into the kitchen.
“Sentarse,” she growled at you, pointing at the sofa. You did as you were told – still very confused as to her behaviour today.
You looked at her, deeply puzzled, as she climbed onto your lap, her legs straddling your thighs. Her behaviour was not what you expected of someone that was angry with you. You pulled out every stop you could think of to help her relax; one hand on her waist, dipping under her shirt to rub at the smooth skin; the other came to cup her jaw, you thumb running repetitive strokes across her cheekbones. It worked, for the most part. She leaned into your hand, her breathing was less harsh, the crinkle in her brow disappeared.
“Oni, my darling girl, mi corazón, mi hermosa, el amor de mi vida. What is up with you today?”
“What is up with me? What is up with you?” She almost shouted, incredulous at the accusation that she had done something wrong.
“You’ve had a scowl on your face the whole day.” You explained, a finger coming to flick at her protruding bottom lip as exhibit A.
“Because of you!” You threw her arms up in exacerbation.
“Me? What have I done?” You tried to think of what you could have done to annoy her. You had stopped calling her Badger, you had let her choose what to eat for tea last night – not even complaining when she chose the place with the not-as-nice-but-just-as-expensive-Sushi – you had done everything as normal today, going so far to drag her away for a steamy makeout session in the bathrooms before practice. Was that what she was upset over?
“No m'has trucat, Badger” she whispered so quietly you could barely hear her.
“Oni, I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear you.” You explained “What did you say?”
“You haven’t called me Badger all day. And last night. Did I do something? Have I annoyed you? You always call me Badger unless you’re angry at me. So ... What. Did. I. Do?” She exploded at you, a lone tear streaking down her cheeks. She rushed to wipe it away, but you got there first, kissing her cheek at the same time.
“No, mi vida. You did nothing wrong.” You looked down at her hands in her lap, fingers fiddling nervously together.
“Then what is it? Cos you haven’t called me Badger in over 24 hours now. Something is wrong.” She implored at you.
“I know you don’t like it, so I thought it would just be easier if you didn’t have to tell me and it be all awkward.” She waited a moment, hoping you would meet her eyes. When that was apparently not going to happen, she lifted your chin up with a finger.
“Who told you I don’t like being called Badger?” She asked sternly. Just like the rest of the day, you misunderstood her emotions – thinking she was angry at you for figuring out her secret.
“N-no one.” You croaked out, trying desperately not to cry.
“Mi amor, who told you I don’t like being called Badger?” She asked again, this time her voice a lot calmer.
“It was something that Alexia had said yesterday. She said that Olga called her Lex a few times and it really got on her nerves, but it took her a while for her to say something. And she also said that if someone called her Patella as a nickname, she’d go insane. And it just got me thinking that what if you don’t like being called Badger, ‘cos it’s a nickname based on someone saying your name wrong, but you didn’t want to say anything and I-” you were cut off by soft lips pressing against yours. You hummed throatily as Ona’s hands twisted into your hair, you grip on her waist tightening, pulling her closer to you.
“Don’t think ever again.” She said as you parted, her breath fanning across your face, drowning you in her scent. You must have looked confused, even with your eyes shut. “You said all of this was because you starting thinking. So, don’t ever think again.” You chuckled, pulling her back to you, your lips moulding together perfectly. “You are mi amor. And I am your Badger,” she mumbled between kisses.
“My Badger.” You agreed, shifting yourself underneath her.
“Recuérdame mañana que mate a Alexia por plantar esa estúpida idea en tu cabeza.” She grumbled as you pulled on top of you again.
“Whatever you say,” you started to suck a hicky into her neck. You pulled back slightly so you could see her face. “Badger.” Her kilowatt smile was all the confirmation you needed that Ona really did like being called Badger.
I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3
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persicipen · 1 month
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afternoon red ノ kamisato ayato
ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.4k ノ fem reader — explicitly being called a wife and a girl ノ your first attempted assassination after getting married yay ノ going through shock . hurt comfort . lowkey fear of pda ノ sappy bonding with your new husband ノ i was fueled by @euthymiya and @tetsuskei and their ayato thoughts (i hope you don’t mind being tagged) <3
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The commotion sprawling down the stairs of Ritou was not usual at this hour. Just as unexpected in its intensity. It couldn’t relate to any festivals (there were none happening at this time of the year), nor could it be a new batch shipped from across the seas (the earliest arrival scheduled for the next week).
As if interested, red maple trees lean and let their crimson leaves whisper gossips with each other, circling in the warm wind that seems to stop its natural journey in favour of entertainment.
You’re in the middle of all this — a centre of attention, pairs and pairs of wide-open eyes blinking at you and too many hands touching, grabbing you to straighten you up as if not caring that your legs feel like wet cotton or that you still try to look around in shock. It’s hard to focus your vision and everyone looks like vague iridescence of colours. You cling to the image of your newlywed husband as if it’s the only thing keeping you afloat among the hustling crowd, being the raging sea. How long have you two been together? But a short while, no more.
Him. Just him. With furrowed brows, with eyes narrowed, that only enhanced the wrinkles in their corners. A flash of temper escaping the façade of forever calm commissioner. The inside of his arms was safe, but whoever remained outside should face the imminent consequences of endangering your life and angering the lord. This kind of protection, devotion, was unknown to you. It felt almost just as invading and you wanted to push it away.
This sudden emotion sways into your veins, it numbs your tongue and mind — so heavy, it feels almost tangible.
You merely escaped death.
It all happened so quickly you didn’t even get to register the attacker’s face before the city’s patrols dragged them away — unsure if for your sake or to save their life for the interrogation before the commissioner could weigh himself with a crime of murder. And he was more than ready, steeled like a tight string, with his hand resting on the handle of his sword.
“The police officials and the medic should arrive soon, Lord Kamisato.” Someone informs, but you can’t even get a glimpse of their face, tucked snugly against the side of your husband. “Is there anything we can do for you in the meantime?”
“You’ve captured the perpetrator. You’ve done enough, and I thank you for that. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I wish to take my wife somewhere less busy. It’s not a… an expected occurrence for her… yet,” he responds in his usual fashion. Someone else mutters out an order about informing his sister and the rest of the estate too, but all words sound like they come from underwater.
Besides that, there are only his hands roaming up and down your arms, hoping to chase away the chill settling deep inside your bones. Even with the light breeze around and the crowd gathering to see what happened, sweat breaks on your forehead.
As you go down the stairs to the quiet corner, holding onto the safest arm in the world, the air finally clears up for you to catch a breath. Yet it does nothing to stop your head from spinning. Or your stomach churning in an attempt to leave your body. Your eyelids flutter but can’t force themselves shut, vision filled with small black dots that block out pieces of scenery, slowly replacing everything.
“Beloved, I’m here.” You hear his voice, steady and barely above a whisper, securing you in place before you dissociate.
Two hands cup your face. They’re cold without the delicate leather gloves, but they hold you with much care.
“Breathe with me. Slowly.” Your husband closes his eyes, leading you. He inhales and exhales and it doesn’t take long for you to feel at ease, matching your breathing to his.
He only opens his eyes after you exhale deeply, no longer hiccuping for air like a fish out of water. What a tragedy it would be to lose such a pretty koi, so young and not yet held long enough for him to accept being separated from you.
The sun illuminates his features, highlights the contours of his cheekbones and draws sharp shadows along the edge of his jaw.
Even now, in an hour as grey as this, he shines like silver. The most precious being you could ask for.
His thumb grazes your lips in a soothing motion, scooping the tears that gathered in the corners of your mouth.
“You’re safe. And for that, I am so glad. My dear wife is well, merely shaken.”
It becomes difficult to not touch him when the breeze that always blows towards the harbour makes his hair fly back and tangles up strands on the right side of his face. It also screams improper in public, even if it’s just patrols turned their back to your side, probably giving you two some time to calm down before a medic arrives to check for any possible damage.
Your hand, ever so naturally, lifts up to do what you wish to — pulling away the wayward locks, brushing them back behind his ear, locking them between your fingers and admiring how soft they are. The gesture, mayhaps not unexpected, but still devastating in its tenderness, causes him to break the perfectly even breathing, a small hitch of his inhale as he leans just an inch towards your touch.
He presses his lips to your palm, taking his time to place a kiss on each knuckle, relishing in how soft your skin is, the uniqueness of your taste, a bitter tint of fear now cutting through the usual sweetness, and the smallest twitch of muscles wherever his mouth ghosts over them.
He watches as a couple of tears slide down your cheeks and that beautiful shudder he knows so well, bringing about a mellow smile that can only be seen as adoring.
“I’m so sorry, my lord. Please, do not worry any longer. It’s— like you said, I’m merely shaken.” You snivel, trying to get a hold of yourself for it’s shameful to cry again, especially after he had the courtesy of wiping your previously shed tears. You lower your gaze, away from him, in hopes he will let this pathetic side of yours be ignored.
And so he does the exact opposite.
He cups your face again and his slender fingers push your chin up just slightly, leaving no room for hesitation and making it impossible to deny his presence, even if your eyes stay glued to everywhere but him.
“Look at me.”
You follow instinctively, unable to ignore your husband’s command.
In the afternoon light, there are so many details of his appearance that you only catch during rare moments like this — how ethereal he seems when the crimson sunset paints the world in gentle golds and coppers, intertwined yet never merging with the pastel colours of his robes and features.
He hums, satisfied that he got your attention.
You wonder if this act of impropriety, still going on between you two in the secluded corner between the buildings instead of performed behind the closed doors of the bedrooms, is exactly what made his skin burn under your touch, too.
Again, he guides you in deep breaths, lulling you into the security of being together, whole. It’s obvious behind his touches how his resolve stays iron, yet the desperation crawls in each of his movements, denying himself the pleasure of just fondling your face like the most adorable baby animal. He allows you to relish in his gestures until he comes back to his senses, that buzz inside his head louder than the bells at the temple — that this is not what you two should be doing now.
“You’re a brave girl. I wouldn’t expect any less from my sweet wife. Come, let’s meet the medic and talk with the officials. The sooner we’ll be done with formalities, the sooner we can return to the estate.”
He gently leads you away, not breaking the contact as much as possible — holding your hand, supporting your lower back with his free one.
How hard it is for him to control the mere touches. If he could, he would never let you go, for once he let you go run in front of him and one unfortunate accident almost took you away forever. He saw how your pretty robes fluttered in the late summer wind, but instead of being the light, flowy fabric it could have ended stained with dark blood.
And this he will never allow.
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