#shes a protective fucker sorry

[deliveringspookzandtreatz]

"Anddd just like that the exterminator is on my hitlist"

You do not mess with pets! Especially someones pets she loves just as much as her own! She already grabbing a shovel to bonk someone with

[robinsleeping]

She tried…

[camellcat]

I'm in the middle of a btvs s5 rewatch and idk what the fuck is going on but xander is NOT riley's number one fan. in fact he is dogging on riley quite consistently. he is holding a grudge, even. what happened to make him switch so hard that he's calling riley her "one in a life-time" ????

[alcego]

i actually can’t stop thinking about how annoyed Andrew would be if Neil was a terrible driver. like yes he trusts Neil with his life Kevin and he gave him the keys to his car but holy shit. holy shit does he not trust Neil with his car. “Neil can drive,” Andrew says, closing his eyes as he realizes he has a New Fear now, entirely unrelated to heights, and that is whatever fucking horrors Neil will submit them to during the two hour drive to Columbia

[saintobio]

RIDE OR DIE .ᐟ

in a world where horsepower meets heartstrings, and bookstore meet-cutes lead to motorcycle mishaps, you soon realize that opposites do attract in ways that blur the line between fiction and reality.

▞▞ PAIRINGS. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

▞▞ GENRE. fluff, smut, established relationship, biker boy x book girl au, 18+

▞▞ TAGS. biker!kuna, backpack!reader, profanity, reckless driving, mentions of violence (not to reader), bruises, police, fellatio, cunnilingus, protected, explicit smut, sukuna being a cute bf

▞▞ NOTES. 8.3k word count. my biker!kuna fics are unstoppable atp 😮‍💨 and as an irl writer gf to a biker bf, this is a very self-indulgent fic. got lazy with the smut so i copied bits from my other gojo oneshot. reblogs are highly appreciated <3

▞▞ INSPOS. my fav biker boys on biketok: that10r, dylan.r.one, raven.coop, onyx_r7, senor_torque, blacchornets, aushendrivessafe, tiiidddooo, bongo & takaro 🖤🏍️💨

After dating you for six months, Sukuna realized that nothing in the world could capture your attention like your cherished collection of fictional books—except, of course, him. But before he entered the picture, you were always immersed in solitary bliss at the cafe or library, lost in the intricate worlds of your latest literary fascination to the point where it was almost impossible to pull you out of it. 

Yet, it became an unspoken understanding between you both; he respected your need for uninterrupted reading time, allowing you to lose yourself in stories populated by your favorite characters, while in return, you supported his desire for a thrilling experience of riding his bike despite the inherent risks that came with it. 

He vividly remembered the first time he saw you while riding his bike through the city. You were crossing the street then, carrying a bag of books you had just bought from Barnes & Noble, and the sight of you in a cute sundress had him completely distracted from the road. So in an attempt to catch your attention, he revved his bike to ‘flex’. But in his effort to impress, he missed the red light and had to brake abruptly, causing him to lose control and drop his bike to the ground. 

That was the very first time he had ever dropped his precious R1 after a year of riding it. If it had been his old R7, he wouldn’t have cared as much, but his R1—his expensive, still-on-the-loan, matte black, fully customized R1—hit the pavement along with him. For bikers, these kinds of things hurt.

Now, talk about embarrassing. You even stopped to look at him in concern that day and if only you could see his blushing face behind his helmet. But at least, looking back at your meet-cute, he could tell you that he did, in fact, fall for you. Literally.

And there can’t be anything truer than that.

“Aww, she’s cute,” Choso remarked, gesturing his chin towards you with a teasing grin as they dismounted their bikes at the parking lot. You were there sitting in a cafe with a book on your lap, unaware that you were being conversed about by these two men right outside.

Sukuna jabbed him on the side and motioned for him to stop staring. “Fuck off. She’s mine.”

As Choso lifted his helmet, a group of girls outside the cafe couldn’t help but swoon over the two bikers, whispering and commenting on how hot and attractive they looked. And being the fucker that he was, completely absorbed in the attention from the girls, Choso had momentarily forgotten about Sukuna as he swaggered towards them with a confident smirk, glancing back at his friend and playfully raising his eyebrows.

“You go ahead. I’ll go check out the scenery,” Choso said in his usual mischief, “Unless you want to join me?”

Sukuna, still sporting his helmet, smugly showed him a picture of you as his phone’s home screen. “Sorry, already got my hands full with my princess.”

“Whatever. Tell Y/N I said hi,” Choso replied with a chuckle, before turning his attention back to the admiring group of girls.

You sat in your customary corner of the cafe, near the window, with a barely touched cup of coffee before you. Your attention was still and all riveted to the pages of your current book, remaining oblivious to the world around you as it looked like you were just getting to the good part of the storyline. Sukuna decided it would be a charming surprise to approach you as he entered the cafe, his arrival catching the eye of another group of girls who noticed him immediately, but he ignored their glances when he made his way towards your small area.

In his usual black leather jacket, Sukuna pulled a chair backward and straddled it, casually resting his arms on the backrest. With both legs on either side, he settled in, observing you intently behind his black helmet. A faint smirk played on his lips as he quietly watched you absorbed in your reading, and for now, he said nothing and enjoyed the moment silently.

He gave it a minute or so for you to realize. 

5… 4… 3… 2… “L-Lovey?” By the time you finally noticed his presence, you saw your widened eyes at his reflective visor when you looked up at him. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Sukuna pushed the button to lift his visor, revealing his narrow eyes that were locked onto yours. He had that boyish grin sitting handsomely on his lips.

As for you, you looked like you were blushing. That, or perhaps there was some sort of fluttering happening inside your heart at the unexpected sight of him. It was probably taking you a moment to separate fiction from reality, because not long ago, you were too fixated on the fictional boy written on the pages of your book. Now, your very real and actual boyfriend was here. For you. “Um… How long have you been there?”

“Not that long,” he assured in his usual low, velvet voice. “I just arrived, actually. Didn’t wanna disturb my baby.”

Your curious eyes fell on the red tribal decals on his black Nexx SX100r helmet, reminding you of the same face tattoo designs he had mentioned wanting to get, but you were refusing to let him have. “New helmet?”

Sukuna nodded, smirking as he tapped the headgear with his gloved hand. “Yeah, you like it?”

“I do,” you replied, smiling. “It’s very you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

You glanced at his sleek black Yamaha R1 outside the window and immediately closed your chosen book for the day. “Okay, well…” You met his gaze again. “I have backpack duties today, don’t I?”

He was quick to dismiss it. “No, no. You can finish reading. I don’t mind just sittin’ here and watching you for a while.”

But, being the stubborn girl you were, you were already packing your book into your bag. You didn’t even listen to a word he said. “Did you bring my helmet?”

“‘Course, princess. Your helmet’s right there strapped onto the backseat.” Your boyfriend leaned in closer and pointed to his sportbike. Just as he took your bag from you, his eyes lingered on your lips for a moment. “So, you’re gonna be my pretty little backpack today?”

You mustn’t have realized it, but the two of you had become the subject of envious stares in the cafe. Most of the girls who looked your way were clearly jealous. Yet your cute, clueless self didn’t even seem to notice as you clung to his arm. “Yes, lovey. I miss being your backpack.” 

Did you know? Sukuna always melted from your enthusiasm. And he couldn’t even resist pinching your cheeks. “Alright, then.” His hand moved to squeeze your nose. “I'll be your personal chauffeur, and you’ll be my cute little backpack who’s clinging tightly to me the whole time. Sounds good?”

“Yessir,” you answered with a playful salute. 

“Good girl.” He then took your hand in his, leading you out of the cafe and onto the parking lot when he all of a sudden felt a tug on his arm. 

You had a visible pout displayed. “Lovey, wait!” 

“What is it, baby?” The question came out of him softly, tilting his head when he looked at you. 

“My kiss,” you said sweetly, making Sukuna feel like Cupid shot an arrow to his heart. “You forgot.”

How can one person be so unbelievably adorable? Just how? How on Earth did he land the cutest girl on the planet? The cuteness aggression was certainly urging him to fall on his knees right now. With the weakness he tried to restrain inside, he was trying his hardest to laugh it off on the outside. “Oh damn, you’re right.” He pulled his helmet up, leaning in forward to place a warm, tender kiss on your soft lips. He could hear the hearts of the surrounding girls breaking at the sight. “Can’t believe I forgot to give my baby the most important item of the day.” 

Satisfied with the kiss, you followed your tattooed boyfriend like a shadow to meet his bike, ‘Fury’, as he affectionately named it. The sportbike rocked a midnight black wrap and the cool customizations he added made it a standout even more. Of course, what kind of person would think Sukuna would stick with a boring base design? One of the best things about his R1 was its front light, infamous in the bike community, as it resembled a menacing face that added to its aggressive allure. It was also equipped with a powerful 998cc inline-four engine, leaving no questions why ‘Fury’ roared with a throaty exhaust note that echoed through the streets. Sukuna chuckled inwardly at the thought. He hoped you wouldn’t mind, but this big bad boy would have been the love of his life if you hadn’t come along. 

“Love, I was thinking,” you interrupted his trance as he slipped the smaller helmet over your head, deftly securing the straps under your chin, “Do you think we can swing by the bookstore on the way?”

His lips curved into a smile. “Sure, we can. You wanna pick up more books to read?”

“I do,” you confirmed, yet hesitated at the end of your tone. “Well, there’s this book I wanna read, but… it has eighteen plus stuff.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow in intrigue, his visor still up as he effortlessly lifted you onto the back of his bike with one arm. “Oh, so it’s a spicy book, huh?” he teased, recalling the discussions he had seen on ‘biketok’ where he went by the username r1.skn. His TikTok account was an unexpected blend of motorcycle enthusiasts and book lovers, and that unique intersection of interests amused him endlessly. “Think my followers would love to know what my backpack’s gonna read next.” 

Even with your helmet on, he could sense the shy smile behind it. “No, please don’t film our ride today!”

“Hmm… What kind of spicy book are we talking about, baby?” he asked, settling onto his bike and revving the engine. When your arms were securely wrapped around his torso, he took that as a go signal to hold the throttle and smoothly shift from first to second gear. “Is it very naughty?”

You hugged him tightly from behind. “Um, it’s about this biker guy and a bookish girl,” you introduced the plot coyly, “And yes, it has some steamy scenes.”

He glanced at you through the bike’s mirror, ensuring that you were safe and secured behind him. Sukuna then shifted into third gear as you entered an empty road, gradually picking up speed. The roar of his bike was louder than his voice. “Really? I bet the biker guy is a dominant one.”

“Yeah.” Your grip tightened on his compression shirt, almost as if you were trying to feel his abs through the fabric. “He’s got tattoos, too.”

What a tease. “You better picture me as that biker guy when you read that book, princess,” he playfully warned, “You’re mine, both in real life and in your fantasies.”

“Yes, but my lovey is hotter.” 

“Good response, baby. You have taste.” 

As you reached the stoplight in the city intersection, Sukuna slowed down and adjusted the small camera mounted on his bike to make sure it still had the perfect angle of you two. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he now had evidence of how touchy his cute, little backpack could get. You sensed him filming your interaction, but instead of pulling your hand away, you leaned further against his back and playfully touched his toned chest. He was surprised and amused at the action, gently pulling your hand down when your silly hands squeezed his chest, but you remained undeterred by placing them near his crotch the next. Your boyfriend hoped to God that none of the surrounding cars were recording you two for your affectionate display in the middle of the traffic. 

“Brat,” he teased back with a shake of his head. “A brat who always gets what she wants, especially in bed.”

Your whine followed, along with a light slap on his arm. “Hey!” 

Why was this red light taking too long? He was getting all bricked up the more he could feel your tits pressing against his back. Although, he considered it a blessing and curse, because the only distraction that was served to you two was when another bike pulled up ahead of cars lined up behind you. It was a white Kawasaki ZX-10R. And its owner? A jerk who had a clear death wish. 

“Hey there, sexy,” catcalled the rider of the 10R, stopping exactly where he could see your rear. “Cute helmet.” 

Sukuna knew you well enough to know that you were offering an uncomfortable, yet polite smile underneath the helmet. But it was the tug at your boyfriend’s shirt that made him glance over the biker with a hint of warning in his eyes. “What’d you say?” His voice carried a menacing edge. While he hadn’t been in a brawl in a while, he definitely didn’t mind the idea of one now. “Back off my girl or I’ll smash your head on the ground.” 

The ZX-10R rider chuckled, hands in the air like an idiot. “Alright, man. No harm meant.” 

“Shut it.” 

“Okay, jeez! How about a little race to settle things? See who’s got the faster ride?”

Sukuna scoffed, finding it hard to believe that a random guy, especially an obvious amateur, had the audacity to challenge him to a race. Didn’t he know? Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t nicknamed the King of the Streets for nothing. He had been riding motorcycles for twelve years now, starting with a modest 300cc and graduating to his current 1000cc superbike. His riding experience was unmatched. He also knew every biker in the area as it was his turf. Yet this ZX-10R rider had appeared out of nowhere with such laughable confidence. 

Thanks to him, your boyfriend’s competitive spirit was ignited. “You’re on.”

“Cool,” the other biker replied.

Meanwhile, you tensed behind Sukuna and gripped his shirt tighter than before. “Love, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He turned his head, gently held the top of your head, and gave you a sweet ‘helmet kiss’. “I’ll keep you safe,” he reassured, “Just hold on tight for me, okay?”

As soon as the light turned green, best believe the street became a racetrack. All the cars were left behind to dust with the roar of motorcycles as both bikers increased their speed, side by side, in a fierce race. Sukuna shifted into third gear as he passed the next intersection, then into fourth gear when the ZX-10R caught up to him. He could feel your hold around him tightening more than ever as the rush of the wind blew through your helmet’s visor.

He thought you might hate it, but you were surprisingly loving the thrill of the scene. 

“Go, baby!” you cheered, holding onto him for dear life. Cute. 

“Not bad, man!” the other biker shouted over the wind, pulling ahead slightly at Sukuna’s moment of distraction. “But try harder!”

Tch. Sukuna gritted his teeth and focused all his senses on the road ahead. He weaved through traffic, maneuvering his bike skillfully and taking advantage of every opportunity to gain ground. In no time, he caught up with the ZX-10R rider, and they soon raced neck and neck. They exchanged glances as they sped between cars, with the other vehicles blurring around them in motion. The thrill of the competition fueled their adrenaline, while you, as the passenger, felt your heart pounding with excitement.

Both bikes continued to zoom down the road. And it was also during that time when Sukuna locked his mind and body into analyzing the situation. Let’s see, he thought, should I push Fury to its limits?

He calculated his next move, feeling the strong breeze on his face and the vibrations of the powerful engine beneath him. The ZX-10R rider was good, but Sukuna knew he had the skills and the bike to outpace him. He just needed to time it right. Between a ZX-10R and an R1, a quick Google search would tell you that the 10R pulls faster than an R1 engine wise. While both bikes were top-tier, high performance vehicles with a 200 horsepower and a top speed exceeding 180mph, the 10R’s disadvantage is being 7 kg heavier, which instantly gave Sukuna an edge in this situation. Being the lighter bike between the two would certainly make him marginally better at handling and acceleration. 

With that, your boyfriend capitalized on his bike’s strengths and shifted into sixth gear at the next intersection, surging ahead and crossing the finish line just as the ZX-10R was left stuck at the last stoplight.

Sweet, sweet victory. Sukuna sped onto the freeway, shouting triumphantly into the air. “Woohoo!” He could feel the jolt of adrenaline satiating his need for a thrilling ride. 

“B-Babe.” You, on the other hand, tugged at his shirt in worry. “Babe, we’re going too fast. The cops—!”

The sound of the siren snapped Sukuna back to reality in an instant. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, frustrated by the abrupt interruption. “Can’t even have a minute to celebrate my win.” 

While he could have engaged in a high-speed freeway chase if he wanted to, especially having already escaped the police once, having you with him now made him opt for better judgment. His promise to keep you safe was his foremost priority here. So, swallowing his pride with a tightened jaw, he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road as the police car trailed behind.

The officer swiftly exited his vehicle and approached you two. “Evening, folks,” the stern voice of the elderly officer broke the tension. “License and registration, please.”

Sukuna retrieved his wallet and handed over his license and registration, then turned to you, placing a protective hand on your thigh. He could tell his poor little backpack was feeling anxious. 

The cop then glanced between you and Sukuna, his gaze lingering on you with concern. “Ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, his focus more on your well-being than on the biker himself.

You nodded, trying to appear composed despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. “Yes, officer. I’m fine.”

The officer soon directed his attention to the R1. “What’s the fastest you’ve been on this thing?”

Sukuna couldn’t resist a cheeky reply. “Speed limit.”

“Very funny,” said the unamused officer, who retreated to his vehicle to run Sukuna’s information while leaving you and your boyfriend to exchange glances once more.

His expression softened. “Sorry about this, babe. I didn’t mean to get us in trouble.”  

“It’s okay.” You reassured him with a squeeze around his waist. “I trust you.”

Interrupting the tender moment, the officer returned and handed back your boyfriend’s license. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asked, receiving a shrug in response. A lecture that Sukuna heavily hated soon followed. “You were speeding back there. I clocked you going 20 miles over the limit. It’s always you fellas with the 1000cc bikes who think they’re invincible. Even 600cc guys are scared of the police. You need to slow down, especially with a passenger.”

With your insistent look, Sukuna nodded to the cop, apologetically. “Understood, sir.” 

The officer studied Sukuna for a moment before releasing a sigh. “Look, I get it. It’s a nice night for a ride. Just remember, it’s not just your life on the line. You’ve got someone else to think about.” He pointed at you while handing your boyfriend a ticket. “You’ve gotta take good care of her.” 

Only then did Sukuna’s cold mien soften up with the cop. “I’ll be careful next time, officer.”

“Right. I’m letting you off with a warning this time, but I’m writing you a ticket for speeding. Slow down, alright?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

The officer returned to his car, and Sukuna pocketed the ticket with a mixture of relief and frustration etched on his face. “We didn’t get to pass by your bookstore,” he lamented, giving you an affectionate caress on the back. “I’m sorry, princess.”

You touched your headgear to his, sharing a helmet kiss. “There’s always next time,” you reassured him with a smile in your voice. “Besides, this is a real-life experience that no book can ever give me.”

~~

By the time you arrived at your apartment, darkness had already settled in, leaving a cozy glow from the distant cityscape as you switched on the lights and placed your helmet on the nearby console table. Immediately, your British shorthair cat dashed toward you with a loud meow, his pretty auburn eyes gleaming with excitement at seeing his mom.

“Hi, Casper,” you cooed at the feline, but his attention swiftly turned when Sukuna entered your apartment a few minutes later—someone he clearly wasn’t fond of.

Upon spotting Sukuna, your cat hissed, expressing his displeasure toward your boyfriend, who playfully stuck his tongue out in response. “I’m back, asshole.”

“Don’t call him that!” You chuckled, attending to Casper by mixing up his food in his bowl. “He’s probably never going to warm up to you at this rate.”

Sukuna smoothly removed his jacket and flopped down on the couch. “Boo! Casper sucks,” he hooted, cupping his hands around his mouth, “He’s just jealous because you love me more.”

It had been a while since Casper had seen Sukuna since you were the one coming over at his place more often. Still, the cat’s disdain for your boyfriend persisted, and you suspected it was because Casper could detect the scent of Sukuna’s dog, a large Doberman, whenever he was near. You can only imagine how crazy your household would be should you and your boyfriend move in together in the near future. 

For now, his occasional visits sufficed. Although, there were days when his presence in your apartment stirred more thoughts in your mind than just simple cuddles and movie nights. How could you help it? He was oblivious to the thoughts running in your head as he sat lazily on your couch, his legs spread wide, lifting his compression shirt just above his sweaty chest. His toned abs were impossible to ignore, especially as he ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily.

“Babe, it’s so hot,” he said, fanning his face, completely unaware of the chaos inside your head. “Wanna shower before bed?”

His suggestion was innocent enough, but your immediate agreement was driven by a different kind of excitement. “Okay,” you replied with a sheepish grin, “I’ll see if you have any clothes left in the closet.”

You see, you and Sukuna had just started dating a few months ago—precisely 6 months and 3 weeks to be exact, so the relationship was definitely still fresh and vulnerable. But needless to say, while he was indeed a sweet and dreamy boyfriend that you could only ever read about in your stash of fictional books, there was also a side of him that awakened the more mature side of you. 

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Sukuna was more experienced in the intimacy department than you. And him being your first did bring in thoughts of inadequacy in terms of your performance in bed. You haven’t done it enough to call yourself a pro, but you also did it enough to say that you already knew what, how, and where to please him the most. You owe that experience to the multitude of smut scenes you had read about on Tumblr and AO3, because those exact stories provided essential insights that guided your actions on your first time.

Now, whenever the sexy beast within you was unleashed, you didn’t even hold back anymore. 

The shower was already running when you stepped inside the small space, your boyfriend letting the cold water fall on his naked tattooed body in rivulets. Each drop of water sounded like rainfall, and with him pulling you closer by the arm, he began kissing you with a passion that made it feel like you were caught in a rainstorm.

“Lovey!” You giggled, pushing your palms flat against his chest. “You said we’ll just shower.” 

“You know what I meant by that, baby.” 

The water continued to cascade down your skin, your hair now damp and your body now wet. Sukuna’s eyes darkened in lust as eyed you up and down, his hands tracing the curves of your body, before crashing his lips back onto yours once more. This time, his kisses were more aggressive as he bit your lower lip, and took the opportunity of shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He was devouring you with rough and wide movements, allowing your tongue to roll around his in a playful tangle. And with his fingers now grabbing a fistful of your hair, and his other hand sliding down your chest to squeeze your breast, you felt a stretch on your scalp when he pulled you by the hair to look up at him. “You think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” he teased, kneading your right breast before his hand moved south to palm your dripping cunt, “Deep down, you’re just as naughty and wicked as me.” 

“N-No.” Your breath hitched when his lips traced light kisses around your neck. But it wasn’t just his kisses and touch that made your knees weak, it was the feeling of his hardened member pressed against your stomach, fully erect and ready to be inside you. “Mmh… You’re the naughty one.” 

Sukuna went in for another open-mouthed kiss before he nibbled on your earlobe. “I don’t deny that, princess,” he pivoted your body around, and made you lean against the glass wall so he could get a better view of your buttocks. While you, you could see your tits pressed against the glass from your reflection in the mirror, a sight that your boyfriend went absolutely crazy for when he looked up. “Ah, fuck. That’s so hot.” 

You could feel his fingers playing with your entrance from behind, and you watched him bite his lip through the mirror, his eyes dancing in lust as he wantonly stared at your body. “Ngh,” you bit back a moan, the feeling of his fingers teasing your entrance making you curl your toes, “I… I-I like that.” 

“I bet you do, baby.” Good lord. His voice was deep and raspy, and the sexiness of it was enough to make you wet. He even showed you evidence per se, when he pulled his digits out, spreading two fingers apart to show you the clear, slimy substance that coated it. You were already a blushing mess when he showed you your cum, and felt the heat in your cheeks worsening as you watched him, eye-to-eye, suck your juices from his fingers. “Aww, my baby tastes sweet.” 

“It’s the pineapple juice,” you joked, allowing him to cup your jaw and place a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “Mmm—I forgot to tell you.” You pulled away to look at your boyfriend. “I’m ovulating.” 

Sukuna tilted his head, squeezing your bum tenderly as he replied, “Are you suggesting I get you pregnant?”

“No, silly!” You chuckled shyly while he positioned himself behind you. “I was trying to say that I get extra horny when I’m ovulating.” 

He smiled, aroused more than ever as he heard you say those words out loud. “Too bad, I was thinking of creampie-ing you.” 

A gasp flew out of your lips when Sukuna’s long, slender fingers performed circular motions on your clitoris, stretching your labia apart so he could insert two fingers at your entrance. “B-Babe!” Your widened eyes were in great contrast to his lust-filled ones as he found entertainment at your submission to pleasure. You gripped his wrist and tiptoed when he started scissoring his fingers inside, forcing you to raise your leg so he could continue to move his hand in and out of your sopping cunt. “Ahh—ah! S-Sukuna!”

He hadn’t heard his name from you in awhile and he found that amusing. “Hm, baby? Saying something?” 

You squeezed your legs together to hide the clench that you were feeling inside, looking up at his crazed brown eyes and tracing his pectoral muscles with your fingers. You couldn’t hold it anymore, you were a willing slut ready to be pounded on by this tattooed man. “Please, f-fuck me.”

He reattached his lips back onto yours and pulled away just enough to keep your foreheads connected. “Not yet, baby girl.” A sly smirk spread off his lips. “That book you were reading earlier at the cafe,” he began, pulling his fingers away to turn you around, “It was smut, wasn’t it?” 

Feeling a wave of embarrassment as he brought it up, you responded with a coquettish smile. “Maybe.” 

Sukuna then pushed you down on your knees, letting you kneel down in front of his hard, veiny cock. He had stroked himself a few times—his other hand lifting your chin up—before he slapped his length against your lips. “Think you can show me how they did it in that book?” 

“Why…” you trailed off, wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping the long, meaty shaft before placing your tongue on top of the swollen tip. He was all crazed and aroused when you kept eye-contact and started putting his member inside your mouth.

“Damn.” Your boyfriend threw his head back, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s make all your fantasies a reality, baby.” 

Well, he was sweet for that. But also mischievous, too. He knew you could be just as naughty as him because he had seen the books you were reading and most of them were definitely far from innocent. Could he blame you? Sometimes, reading about it was better than experiencing it. Yet with your boyfriend’s ego, he wasn’t one to allow your fictional men to be better than him in all aspects. Physically. Emotionally. Sexually.

You let him guide your hand into stroking his shaft before you ejected spit on the pink head, using it to lubricate his aching member while you lowered yourself further to fit his firm balls inside your mouth. It gave you utmost pleasure to hear his guttural moans when you swirled your tongue around his bollocks—tasting the same flesh that carried all of his sperm, and releasing it from your mouth to give his cock the same attention. At first, you kissed his swollen tip and treated it like a lollipop, then you started sucking every inch of his length by bobbing your head at a stable rhythm. “Mmm.” You could hear curses leaving his pretty lips as he held your head in place, snapping his hips forward until you were gagging from the intense penetration on your throat.

You learned all these after a single read at your favorite 18+ book.  

“That’s a good girl.” His praise rang in your ears like a sweet melody.

Even without a reflection to look at, this was the most erotogenic exchange you two had ever done as a couple. And along with that, his half lidded eyes were staring down at you, judging you and your every move. 

You did your best to give him a stellar performance, did your most at pleasuring his member, and did everything that he liked whenever you were sucking his cock. And just like that, thick ropes of cum were sent straight down your throat. The musky, metallic taste didn’t stop you from swallowing all of his seed and you had to show your tongue to make him know that you did a good job at taking all of his semen. Nothing was wasted.

Not even time, because as soon as you finished giving him a blowjob, he was already carrying you out of the bathroom without drying yourselves off. You were thrown into your double bed, manhandled into spreading your legs apart before your animalistic lover plunged his face onto your pussy.

“S-Sukuna—! Mmm—fuck!”

He had your back arching because of how deep his tongue was going inside, tasting your walls and kissing your cunt like he would do with your mouth. He was smooching off your labia like a hungry beast, eating you out as if he wasn’t satisfied by the juices that he was sucking from you. You were already in your seventh heaven, unable to think straight when he added his middle finger to the movements of his tongue. If fingering your pussy and lapping your clitoris weren’t enough to drive you crazy, maybe grabbing a fistful of pinkish hair was a sign for him to stop before you could truly lose it. You could feel fire pooling on your lower abdomen and your legs were already shaking uncontrollably, your toes curling wantonly—with the suction he was doing on your cunt, you ended up screaming for his name and engulfing his mouth with your Earth-shattering release.

“Haah! ‘Kuna, p-please…”

As he detached his mouth from your entrance, he started climbing up, visibly pleased with the way he ravaged your cunt. He was wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, pressing his lips down on yours to make you taste your own fluid. A string of saliva connected your mouth to his before he grabbed ahold of his erect member once again. It hadn’t even been more than two minutes and you were already being hauled into another position. “Let me fuck you from behind.”

“Lovey, w-wait.”

“Ass up, baby.” His patience was growing thin when he dragged your body by raising your hips close to his crotch and pressing your head down against the mattress. Your boyfriend cared none for the embarrassment that settled on your heated cheeks when he spread your buttocks apart so he could ogle at the exact hole that he was about to enter. 

“No, wait!” you begged, looking up at him with a plea, “Condom, please.” 

The realization hit his face. “I think I’m all out, baby. Let me check,” he said, pulling away and stumbling towards his discarded pants on the floor, hoping desperately that he would find an unused packet of condom. Just to his luck, he had one more packet hidden between the folds of his leather wallet. “Got it!” 

He hastily ripped the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out, and rolling it slowly to cover his entire length. You remained on all fours, watching him as he ejected spit on his fingers, which he soon used to lubricate your entrance. 

Did he give you any time to adjust? That word didn’t even exist in his vocabulary when he sunk all seven inches inside of your cunt, wrecking you open to the point where you could feel a stinging sensation on your entrance after being stretched by his fully erect cock. “Best pussy in the entire world.”

You were suppressing your moans from coming out too loud while you bit on a pillow, nails digging on the sheets as your lover penetrated your tight vaginal walls. “Ahh! M-More… More.” He was treating you like a fleshlight as he continued to rut your sopping cunt with his fat cock, absolutely enjoying how your warm pussy was milking his full length.

“Can your fictional boys fuck you like this, baby?” he breathed, all deep and velvety as he gave you the most rhythmical skin-slapping thrusts. He was so deep in your cavern that you could feel the base of his cock slamming against your ass. You didn’t even notice the hand that was snaking on your front to massage your bouncing tit because you were far too lost in the shockwaves of sexual gratification. “No other man can fuck you this good.”

It was like he was riding his own bike. With how fast his pace was increasing, you were already too limp to feel his hard thrusts.

Your brain was short-circuiting from the amount of sensation that was entering your body, intoxicated by the waves of libido in your system that was heightening more and more as he continued to satisfy your insatiable heat. You could barely think straight. You lost your sanity. All the modest parts of you had completely dissolved into a bitch in heat. Like a needy little whore. You didn’t even have any control of your own words when you started telling Sukuna, “I… want… you to keep… fucking me… like this.” Another forceful slam elicited a mewl out of you. “A-Aah! Haah!”

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Your boyfriend held a tighter grip on your hips, your moaning face leaving an imprint on his mind as he propelled your body forward and raced towards his ecstasy. After yet another thrust or two, or three, or four… Spurts of warm seed started exploding into the rubber. Sukuna’s thrust had become unsteady, his body falling down on the bed but his member still remaining inside of you. “I can’t get enough of your pussy, baby.” 

You were catching your breath after he broke your mind into becoming this sex-obsessed freak. “Lookie! My bed’s all wet now.” 

He smiled and finally pulled out, only to lean down again and plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let me carry you to the couch,” he offered, but first he had to pull the condom out of his cock to reveal a cum-filled rubber. “Christ. I came a lot.” 

In other words, his cum would have been dripping out of your pussy for days.

You extended your arms, awaiting to be lifted like a princess by your lover. “Carry me now, please!”

“I will, baby.” Without hesitation, he scooped you up in his tattooed arms. He, too, was heavy breathing, but he still effortlessly held you. “I’ll take care of cleaning your sheets while you sleep.”

He was already walking towards the living room as you kicked your feet in the air, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze. “Can you clean out Casper’s litter box, too?”

Sukuna made a face of disgust, glancing at the cat before gently setting you down on the couch. “Only if he stops being an asshole,” he joked, but your pleading expression melted his resolve. “Alright, fine. I’ll take care of your bed, your cat’s litter... what else? You’re lucky I love you, you know.” He moved to the window, drawing the curtains closed to shield you from prying eyes. “Do you think your neighbors saw us fuck earlier? I forgot to pull the curtains on your bedroom.”

You laughed, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself. “Well, there’s this couple that’s been giving me strange looks lately, so it definitely isn’t the first time they’ve seen us do it.”

“It’s like that movie we watched,” Sukuna mused, trying to recall the title.

“The Voyeurs!” you both exclaimed in unison, sharing a laugh before you gestured to him. “Get dressed, lovey!”

Sukuna returned to tuck you in under the thin sheets, leaning down to give you a peck on the lips. “And you get some rest now, baby.”

~~

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you woke up, stretching lazily in bed to find Casper purring next to you. That’s strange, you thought. Your cat normally wouldn’t go near you when your boyfriend was around, so you turned to your side, expecting to find Sukuna still sleeping beside you, but the spot was empty. Confused, you glanced around the room, noticing that his motorcycle gear was also missing from its usual place. 

“Lovey?” you called out through the empty apartment. “Where are you?” 

With no response received, you walked towards your bedroom and found the sheets had been changed and everything was tidy. Searching the bathroom yielded no clues to Sukuna’s whereabouts either. And a quick trip downstairs to check his usual parking spot confirmed your suspicion—he had left without a word. 

You frowned, reaching for your phone to send him an annoyed text.

YOU: love, where are you? 

YOU: i’m not some kind of booty call that you can just leave the next morning without a say

The minutes ticked by as you waited for a reply, feeling a mix of frustration and worry because of his absence. Were you overthinking this? Perhaps he was just out to get you lunch. Or maybe he had an emergency. You tried to calm yourself down by breathing deeply and thinking of any possible explanation other than the worst-case scenario. Maybe his phone died, or he got caught up in something urgent. But after an hour of no response, worry began to gnaw at you. Did he just ghost me? 

“Oh, God.” You paced back and forth in your apartment, checking your phone repeatedly for any sign of a message or call from Sukuna. “Oh, God. Oh, God! I’ve read about this a lot. Why are guys such jerks?” 

You tried to rationalize his absence, hoping for a reasonable explanation, but your mind persisted racing through various scenarios, with each one more disheartening than the last. Maybe he’d gotten tired of you, or perhaps he was scared of commitment. The frustration and confusion were almost unbearable. Was the sex last night not good enough for him? 

That situation lasted the entire afternoon. And you wanted to rip your hair out at the fact that your boyfriend had been gone for hours, his phone unreachable, and his friends having no idea where he was.  

So as the evening approached and your anxiety grew, you decided to call Sukuna again. It was the 47th missed call. But just as you were about to dial his number once more, you heard the familiar roar of his R1.

“What the hell.” You rushed to the window and saw your boyfriend pulling into the parking area. Relief flooded your system as you watched him switch off the engine, dismount his bike, and walk leisurely towards your apartment building’s lobby like he didn’t just leave an anxious girlfriend without a note the morning after he fucked her brains out.

You waited for him to arrive at your doorstep, your heart calmer but still ticking with anxiety as the clock rang in your ears. You were ready to give him a lashing for being unresponsive to your texts and calls. But as the door swung open, your boyfriend knowing your passcode by heart, you didn’t expect that your anger at him would end up being for a totally different reason. 

Because there he was, standing by your door looking slightly disheveled but with a sheepish smile on his face. He held a Barnes & Noble bag in one hand.

“Hey, baby—”

“What the heck happened?” You rushed to him, noticing the scrapes and bruises on his face. “Are you okay? I was worried sick!” 

Sukuna removed his helmet and winced slightly, the corner of his lower lip was smeared with dried blood. “Sorry, my love,” he spoke softly, going in for a comforting hug, “I wanted to surprise you, but things got a little complicated.” 

You pulled away to touch his bruised cheek. “You’re hurt. Why aren’t you answering my texts?” 

“Phone’s dead,” he answered, showing you his lifeless phone before handing over the bag. “And this is for you, my beautiful princess.”

Taking the bag, you said, “You didn’t have to do this.” Then your eyes scanned his face for any sign of serious injury.

“I wanted to,” he insisted, his voice filled with affection despite his exhaustion. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

You eyed the Barnes & Noble bag, realizing that the book inside was the exact one you had mentioned wanting yesterday. Your emotions swirled in a mix of frustration and tenderness. Should you lecture him for being so reckless, or cry because of how romantic it was that he went out of his way to get the book you had been searching for?

But first and foremost, how and where did he get all those bruises?

Before you could ask, he already had an answer prepared. “Long story, baby. Let's just say I had a little run-in with another biker who had the same idea as me.”

You grabbed his hand and guided him to sit on the couch while you hurriedly fetched your first aid kit. As you tended to the scrapes on Sukuna’s face, Casper the cat approached cautiously, sniffing his scent before surprising both of you by leaning against your boyfriend’s leg.

“Meow~”

“Casper!” Sukuna exclaimed joyfully, picking up the cat with a playful flourish like how Rafiki carried Simba in The Lion King “Babe, he finally likes me!”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and joined Sukuna on the couch, gently tilting his chin to examine his bruise. “Tell me exactly what happened,” you asked with a hint of sternness, “You went all over town just for this book?”

Your boyfriend carefully set Casper back down and nodded. “Yeah, it’s the last one they had. Had to fight for it, though.” He then rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t even get a kiss or a thank you?”

At once, all your defenses crumbled. You let go of the gauze in your hand and pulled your boyfriend into a tender kiss, wrapping him in a warm hug afterward. “You’re insane, you know that? I was so worried about you, and now I find out you spent the whole day looking for this book.” You sighed, overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions the day had brought. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for the man who had gone to such lengths to make you happy. “But thank you, lovey. That’s really sweet of you.”

Sukuna, now grinning broadly, held you closer around the waist. “Always welcome, my baby.”

“Now, tell me about that biker,” you began, taking a q-tip and some ointment, “How’d you get into a fight?” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” he recalled, amused at the thought, “He was going to get the book for his girl, too. But I got there first, and he wouldn’t let me have it.” 

Jesus. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh at the absurdity of two bikers squabbling over a book in a bookstore. “You should’ve just let him have it.” 

“But baby!” he protested like a child, “I couldn’t come home empty-handed. I already feel bad we didn’t get to pass by the bookstore yesterday.” 

What a stubborn boyfriend you have. “I already told you it’s okay, lovey. You’re the best boyfriend already. I appreciate the effort and I’m even more in love with you now than ever,” you reassured, placing a light kiss on the tip of his nose, “Now, is there anything I can give you in return? As a thank you?” 

Oh, boy. You already assumed he would request for something concerning activities in bed. But his face suddenly lit up as if a lightbulb just appeared above his head. His idea was surely not what you had in mind. 

“How about I teach you how to ride my bike?” 

~~

The sun hung low on the horizon as Sukuna stood beside his Yamaha R1, patiently explaining the basics of riding ‘Fury’ to you. He seemed to be heavily enjoying this whole thing. Meanwhile, you, donning a helmet and gloves, were fully geared up, nervousness evident as you cautiously swung your leg over the bike.

“Ah, dammit.” Your boyfriend was grinning like an idiot as he saw you sitting on his bike. “You’re gonna be one hot biker girl. I can’t! You’re mine. Don’t let them see you like this, babe!” 

“Stop exaggerating!” you retorted, your voice tense with nerves as you gripped the handlebars tightly. “This bike feels… big.” 

“Like my cock?”

“Stop it.”

Sukuna erupted into a chuckle before proceeding to move closer to you. “Alright, babe. Remember what I showed you about the clutch and throttle control,” he encouraged, “Take it slow.”

Nodding, you started the bike and felt the powerful engine rumble beneath you. With your boyfriend’s guidance, you eased out the clutch and gave a tentative twist of the throttle. The bike lurched forward, causing you to panic and squeeze the brakes hard. 

“Oh, my God!” You let out a squeak of surprise. “Oh, my God! I’m gonna die.” 

“Easy there.” He held your waist protectively. “Let’s try one more time?” 

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the intimidating power of the machine beneath you and instead focus on Sukuna’s instructions. Even with his guidance, you found yourself repeating the same mistake where this time, you braked too hard again, causing your body to jolt forward dangerously. You would have fallen from the bike if not for your boyfriend catching you right on time.

“I can’t do this…” You shook your head, frantically. “I’m not cut out for this.”

Sukuna held you steady, his hands firm yet reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, looking into your eyes. “It takes time, alright? You’re doing fine. Maybe we should start with something smaller.”

You let out a heavy exhale as Sukuna carried you off his bike. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Like a lower cc bike?” he suggested, giving your helmet a playful tap. “Let’s start you off on a 150cc bike. Yuuji has a CBR150R we can borrow.”

“I wouldn’t want to wreck your nephew’s bike,” you teased, watching from the side as Sukuna effortlessly mounted his own bike.

He revved the engine and reached out for your hand, helping you settle in behind him. “Then, you can just stay being my backpack princess for now”

With your arms securely around his waist, the bike accelerated, the wind whipping against your helmet visor. The view of the sunset was perfect for this ride. “So, does that mean I’m not your ride or die anymore?”

Sukuna took your hand from behind, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “Nah. You’ll always be my ride or die, baby.”

[misserabella]

ask nicely

bodyguard abby x str!pper reader

summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…

you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.

but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.

his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.

lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?

“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.

“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.

you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.

“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.

you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.

you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.

“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.

“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.

“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.

“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.

“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.

you took a sip of your drink, sighing.

“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.

you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?

“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…

“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.

“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.

“only you.”

your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.

“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.

“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.

“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.

you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.

your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.

“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.

“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.

“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.

“i want you to touch me.”

“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.

“you know what i mean…”

“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.

“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.

“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.

“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.

“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.

“please abby, please. fuck me.”

“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.

she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”

“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.

“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.

“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.

she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.

“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”

“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”

“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.

“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”

“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.

“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”

it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…

[shomatoriashi]

11/26/24; 10:00pm

sylus x fem.reader (non mc)

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

notes: once a sylus girly, always a sylus girly…

admittedly, your first meeting with sylus occurred in a more… unorthodox manner.

that night, you had just gotten off a late shift at work, feeling the cool air cause slight shivers to course through you. you hug your coat tighter to your form all while taking in your surroundings.

as you kept walking, you became aware of a suspicious pair of footsteps that seemed to follow your every move.

when you stopped, the same lingering steps would stop as well.

each time you would turn a corner or dash to the other side of the street-

you swore you could feel the hairs raising at the back of your neck at the strange sensation of being watched and followed.

not wishing to lead this bastard straight to your apartment, your eyes take in the sight of the neon lights that flash above you, reading the name of the bar as you entered crow’s haven for the first time.

the bar was dimly lit with a surprising number of patrons all scattered throughout the area. as your eyes take in the lavish furniture and the expensive alcohol everyone was consuming, you slowly began to realize just how out of place you were while in this high class bar.

the sounds of doors opening makes you stiffen, with you looking back to see an unfamiliar man walk in, dark eyes scanning the bar before landing on your frozen form. letting out a string of curses, you turn away from the entrance and began heading deeper inside of the bar, your gaze finally landing on a tall man with silver locks of hair.

you take in the sight of his pristine, black and red suit and make a beeline toward him. your hands reach out to grab at the ends of the expensive fabric, earning you a momentary look of disdain from the man as he acknowledges you with a narrowed, crimson gaze.

“what’s this? has a kitten gotten lost and found her way into a crow’s lair?”

shivers were felt running down your spine at the sound of his rich voice felt reverberating in your ear. “s-sorry, but, i need your help. can you pretend to be my boyfriend, at least until that fucker backs off?”

the man immediately straightens his posture, towering over you as he stood well past 6 feet in height. he places a hand on your shoulder, already seeing the unknown man making his way toward you.

“didn’t i tell you how dangerous it is to talk to strangers, sweetie?” you allow him to take a protective stance in front of you, gazing at the man who stalked you with a bored expression.

“hey man, i don’t mean no harm, just wanted to talk to that pretty lady over there.” the man gestures at you, yet before he can take another step a sudden click was heard, causing your stalker’s eyes to go wide when he was suddenly faced with a barrel of a gun.

“she’s mine.” those final words rang with such finality that you nearly fell to your knees. have you ever met a man that exuded such confidence before in your life? a man who’s beauty could rival that of gods themselves-

no, absolutely not.

the man backs away while stuttering out excuses, and to add insult to injury, your savior merely snaps his fingers as several men surrounded your potential stalker before physically escorting him out of the club.

relief courses through you, and you watch as your savior returns his gun back into the confines of his suit. the bartender already tends to him, refilling his shot glass of whiskey. as you take a moment to calm down your rapidly beating heart, you carefully step aside, “ah, thank you… for helping me back there. i should… probably head home-“

he stops you from moving forward by gently gripping at your wrist, “i don’t think that’s a good idea, kitten. after all, if you leave my safety, then there’s a chance that he’s standing out there, waiting for you.” crimson eyes now shone with amusement while he downs his shot of whiskey in a single gulp, not even fazed by the burn of the alcohol, “and i’ve already told him that you’re mine, kitten.”

unable to speak, you watch as he leans forward to take your hand in his, pressing a kiss at the back of it before telling you, “the name’s sylus… and i don’t mind keeping you under my protection until things settle down. what do you say?”

truthfully, you would be a fool not to take him up on his offer.

which lead you to where you are now, where sylus has been your “fake boyfriend” for close to two years now.

and that fact made you feel so giddy and stupidly in love with him.

sunlight streams through the window, painting your shared bedroom in brilliant hues. too happy to sleep in, you had woken up first to prepare some breakfast in bed for sylus in celebration of your anniversary. with several breakfast items on the tray, you tiptoe into the room, your smile breaking into a grin upon seeing sylus sleeping on his chest.

setting off your tray of breakfast to the side, you crept closer to the bed, wishing to tease your beloved a bit this morning. doing a countdown in your head, you land against sylus’s back, earning a grunt from him as you littered his skin with a plethora of kisses.

“hehe, morning sysy…”

sylus lets out a series of grumbles, slowly turning around so that he was lying back in bed while taking you within his embrace. “hmph… you’re up early. and you’re hyper, too.”

you gasp, “i am not hyper! i’m just incredibly happy today… and you know what today is, so don’t even pretend.”

a rich chuckle fills your ears, making you shiver once more in response. despite the millions of times you have basked in his voice, you couldn’t seem to get used to it, as it still sent pleasant sensations to course through you.

“truly… thinking back on that night when we first met- i was scared. i didn’t want some creep to know where i lived-“

“and so the lost kitten made her way inside a crow’s lair, seeking shelter.” a devilish grin spreads across sylus’s lips when he presses a quick kiss against your lips, “and the crow took pity on her and made a promise to keep her safe.”

“yeah…” you trail off and smile at the memory. deep down, you knew you were drawn to sylus and could sense that he was more than capable of protecting you.

you didn’t regret meeting him at all.

shaking your head, you break out of your reveries and smile back at sylus, “that’s why, i really wanted to celebrate our two year anniversary together. i decided to start off by making some breakfast in bed for you.”

you gesture towards the desk, earning a pleased hum from sylus. “i must say, that’s very thoughtful of you, kitten. however… i hope you won’t be too upset when i tell you that the type of hunger i have cannot be satiated by something as simple as food.” he frames at your face, smirk seeming to widen when he captures a lock of your hair and twirls it against his fingertips, “in fact, what i crave for is something far more decadent.”

“huh? what do you mean?”

sylus simply shakes his head, “instead of answering with words, why don’t i show you with my actions?”

“oh… okay���?”

you trail off, feeling your lips turn dry when sylus moves down your body, settling himself between your legs as he pushes up the fabric of your oversized shirt. his crimson gaze focuses solely on you while he breathes in your scent, settling his lips against your inner thigh. keeping his eyes shut, he basks in your scent before using one of his hands to grip at the waistband of your panties.

already, you felt the moisture beginning to pool between your legs, your breathing slowly turning labored when sylus pulls your panties down the rest of the way using his teeth alone. amusement and desire paints his gaze as he meets your slicked core, taking in the scent of your honeyed arousal before delving into your walls with his tongue.

the wet muscles was felt pushing inside of you, giving you such a hedonistic friction that had to be sinful with how good it felt. your hands automatically go into his hair, and you found yourself pressing your aching sex even deeper against him. sylus was relentless when it came to tasting you, drinking up all you had to offer as he made sure that not even a single drop of your arousal fell against the sheets.

playing your body with a familiar expertise, your back arches against the mattress as your climax rushes out of you in waves, your gasps quickly morphing into broken moans of his name, earning a pleased grunt from the onychinus leader.

your mind was in a daze after such an intense release, yet you remained in such a muddled state even as sylus pulled you closer to him by your ankles. rapid movements were felt below you, and when you blearily looked to the side, you felt your walls clench in response to sylus rapidly stroking his cock to full hardness before he presses his mushroom tip against your entrance.

“you drive me crazy, kitten. ever since the moment i laid eyes on you, you were truly mine.” he completes his statement by fully thrusting into you, bottoming out while setting a rapid pace. your legs wrap around his waist as you felt a newfound urgency at reaching your completion with him. the squelching sounds of your lovemaking echoes throughout the room while sylus continues to press lingering kisses against your damp skin all while hotly whispering into your ear-

“happy anniversary, sweetie… let’s celebrate by never leaving this bed.”

end notes: an unedited thirst post that needs to be written for all of the sylus girlies out there (⺣���⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 5 - No Time to Waste

It’s been a week and a half since the last power surge incident and so far everything was quiet. Too quiet for Batman’s liking. It definitely increased his paranoia which in turn causes him to be extra moody. The culprit? Whoever was behind the power surge in the Narrows. They became an anomaly to Gotham. Unwanted, an eyesore in the eyes of Batman.

And the issue is, there hasn’t been any news at all. No sightings, no suspects, nothing. Bruce felt challenged in a way. Something is in Gotham, living in his city and he feels like he’s still so far from discovering who or what it is. For the world's greatest detective is having a hard time solving this case. How frustrating.

With no news of another quantum breach, big or small, nothing. It’s frustrating. What’s even more of a headache about this unsolved case, is another thing that has come to his attention- thanks Jim.

Bruce started hearing more reports of a new ‘vigilante’. But there are no pictures, no camera footage, no evidence, just testimonies, occasional sightings and witnesses. Nothing concrete, nothing solid, just no proof. So frustrating.

And there is a pattern.

What he does know is that they are always quick and efficient, never staying too long, leaving once or before the police arrive, and it’s always low level crooks like muggers or thiefs. Respectful and polite (from those they saved) and they mostly keep to the shadows of the night.

Whoever this new problem is, is trying to stay hidden and Batman doesn’t like that at all. Not. One. Bit. 

Despite the Narrows being Duke’s territory, he is just one person who patrols in the daytime, so some of his sons and daughter help patrol at night. But it seems this newcomer has incredible luck and scurries off everytime they are even close to their location.

But this doesn’t mean Batman will just let it go, oh no. Of course not silly, he’s going to find this new vigilante and see what they are about. He’s going to evaluate them, judge them, and all it takes is one mess up. Just one and he will make sure they are locked up in Arkham.

A bit extreme, possibly. But he will take no chances, not when it comes to the safety of his city. Gotham is his to protect and defend, he’s keeping many eyes out for this intruder. Watch your back.

“Sorry to interrupt your brooding hour B, but I have something I think you want to know. Also you have a message from Commissioner Gordon.” A new voice spoke through his comms.

“On my way.” He replied.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” a third voice snapped. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Explain.” Batman demanded.

“So you see…”

-

After the failed attempt at contacting Miguel, you spent a couple of all nighters in advancing your beacon. This time, it would require even more energy but now it won’t cause a potential blackout. But it will notify the bats of your location like last time.

You know you have to be extra fucking careful this time. You might have gotten lucky those days ago in not getting caught, but you know your luck is shit anyways and Batman is one paranoid mother fucker. Him and his wards.

You have to be very cautious in where you go and how you will do this. This new connector is a bit more sturdier than the lightweight one you made before, but this time it also won’t require you to be stuck in one place. Actually, your signal will ping in more than one location. It will bounce off the cell towers and throw a fake location. 

This will certainly tip the scales to your favor in avoidance of detection. Now, you won’t have to rely on your (shit) spider luck! 

All you have to do is to connect it to a phone or computer, and connect that to any service in the area and manually set it off- which you can easily hack. There is only one tiny itty bitty problem. Guessed it yet? No? Well it’s simple, the only problem is- YOU DON’T HAVE A PHONE.

You could theoretically use the library computer but with civilians around you is a big major no. You’re also pretty sure the library closes at like 8 or something.

No worries. You have a solution for this baby problem. Is it build one yourself? Pfft- fuck no. You don’t have time to build a phone and even less for a computer, you still have to tweak your god damn watch for fuck sake. So, you’re just going to buy one.

And with what money- I hear you ask. Simple. You’re going to make some. Time to become Spider-woman again.

Only until you have enough for a decent phone- you said. It’ll be easy- you said. Until you were proven wrong.

You spent two days hunting and defeating crooks, webbing the worst ones up, while the not so bad but are making shitty choices were let go (with the promise of hunting them down should they go back to doing bad stuff). Some advice here and there, pickpocketing criminal’s money, you know, the usual shabang.

Can’t forget you’re avoiding all cameras so as to not give yourself away. Though you almost got caught by the police once, haha. You never stick around long enough to get spotted by the bats or the cops.

Until one night, dressed as a normal civilian, you were coming back from a shelter, turning a corner and you were immediately surrounded by a group of thugs wanting to rob you. You literally have nothing, so the only thing they would be robbing is your backpack with extra clothes and your suit. And maybe like two granola bars.

You tried to charm your way out of this situation because first of all, youre fucking tired, two, you don’t have time for baby shit, and three, you’re about to start tweaking. Of course the five men didn’t take your sarcastic remarks lightly and decided that their knives would do the talking.

So you beat them up. All five of them. 60 seconds was all it took. So to recompense wasting a minute of your time, you loot their cash discreetly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) a well dressed man popped out of nowhere, getting close to you and you warned him you would break his wrist if he touched you- he still came but didn’t touch you. Holding out a black card he presented it to your face.

“You fight well, kid. If you want to make money fast,real money, call me and go here.”

“Um, I’m not a k-”

“You’ll make hundreds.” He cut you off. Rude. ”And if you impress the boss like you did me, you can make more.”

Spider luck?

Oh well that got your attention. Eyes narrowed. “Fast money, how?”

“Did no one ever teach ya about ‘stranger danger’? It’s a fight club, if you will. A tournament if you’re interested.”

Spider luck.

After pondering it for a quick second, here you are, getting a card with a free invite to a ring, probably filled with big, crazy, and most likely wanted criminals, and you get paid to beat them up? Sign me the fuck up. “I’m very interested.” you nod.

The man gave a crooked smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

“I’m not-” The man walked away and inside a white limo car. Fuck you.

So you went the next day. Making sure you wore your normal clothes, just sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and your face mask, you called the guy.

Meeting him was uninteresting, conversations were nothing exciting, just asking you your fighting style, can you take on a big guy, and whatnot. 

Upon entering the place (behind a well known bar) you were led to a ring, two fighters going at it. You watched how one was clearly more experienced than the other, while the other guy was battered and bleeding but still fighting. Blood spraying everywhere with every hit until he hit the ground cold.

It certainly is a sight.

It was that very day that you had your very first fight.

Stepping into the ring with no prep, no bandages, no helmet, nothing, this was a raw fight through and through, you were immediately booed and laughed at. Tough crowd.

Of course you were not going against a stereotypical big muscular guy that looks like he could bench press a tank. No, in fact you were against a young military deserter as your first opponent. Scars and all. Across his neck laid an identification tag (also known as dog tag). Christopher Conner.

The man in front of you sneered, laughing at you. “No way they sent me a kid. I will break all your bones. Don’t start crying too soon.” he cooed.

He taunted you and the crowd loved it. You, on the other hand, were pretty bored and unimpressed. 

“I’m not a kid…” you huffed behind your face mask.

What was able to be seen on your face must have told him that because he didn’t like being ignored. 

So he swung, a clear hit to be a knock out. You swerve.

This time he kicked, you parried.

He did not like that. Soon a game ensued. Hit attacking and you either blocking or dodging. You didn’t even need your spider sense, you got this in the bag, honestly this was quite sad. The crowd went from booing you to insulting Christopher.

“What the fuck man?!”

“Hit the kid!”

“My money’s riding on you dickface!”

“Don’t you dare lose motherfucker, or I’ll shoot you!”

It seems their insults were getting to the man. You on the other hand kinda started to feel bad.

“Stand still you fucker!” Christopher growled, throwing punches.

You scoffed, “My aunt throws faster punches than you Chris.” You can almost taste the bloodlust seeping from his pores. “Hey man, it's been three minutes, surely you can end this, right?”

Chris’s jaw clenched in anger. He was about to explode. A voice called out your name.

“Nada! Stop wasting time and finish it kid. Or you won’t get paid.” What? What a scam! You’re trying to entertain yourself too y’know, guess this will be a way to relieve stress.

Facing the military man you didn’t give him a second to process when you blew him a kiss and then a fist made contact with his chin, effectively knocking him out the second his back hit the ring walls. “I’m not a kid.”

The crowd was silent before chaos broke. Half the crowd booed and threatened the fallen man, while the other half started cheering.

With how unsatisfied most people were, you had to fight three more times. Each time, you won, with no scratches on you (you did pretend to get hit at times for realism). Each victory secures you cheers and hype.

By the end of your last fight, it was dark out and you were walked off by the same man that brought you here. “Good job kid. I know you were the right call.”

“I’m not-” A thick envelope was thrown. Catching it, you opened it up to find money, lots of money. “Woah.”

The man in the suit chuckled. “Like it? You can make more the more you win.”

Still entrance by the stack of green you nodded. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time.” The man walked off and you stared at the money.

“Booyah baby!”

You bought a phone the next morning.

And so it’s been five days since then. You weren’t in a desperate need for money anymore, so you cut your fights down from five to two a day. You still needed time to continue fixing your beacon. Spider-woman sightings have also significantly decreased the more you noticed the increase in security.

You were not taking any chances.

Walking towards the somewhat empty bar, you greeted the bouncer and headed inside to an ‘employees only’ door to meet the guy in the suit. He did tell you his name, but you call him ‘Suit’ in your head regardless. 

“Hey there Nada,” He hears a sigh from behind the mask. “Listen, kid, you’re one of my best fighters, but I need you to lay low for a while. Here.”

Catching a burner phone you tilt your head for an explanation, pocketing it. “Cops?”

“Worse.” he sighs, slicking his hair back. “Bats.”

Fucking spider luck.

Like a bucket of ice and cold water was dumped on you, blood turning cold. You froze in terror. You should have guessed that a hidden fighting ring would not be kept hidden for long. The criminals that you fought and were downright nasty, you made sure they were caught outside and far away from this location. 

And it was random from a list you composed. Enough to make sure you weren’t a suspect. But fuck now you have to erase your presense here. You’re a nobody, Nada, nothing. Guess it really is time to lay lower than low, like a ghost. “I won’t come back then.” Voice serious and cold.

He laughed, pulling out an envelope from his suit's inner pocket. “S’that so?” Handing it out for you to take, his eyes burn into yours. “Then I’ll just have ta hunt you down, kid.”

Taking the envelope (it felt thicker and heavier than usual) and placing it in your pocket you chuckled, cold, fake, calculating. “Try. I’m good at hiding.” Walking away, hands in pocket, feeling both the envelope and the burner phone, turning your body to avoid bumping into a familiar guy speed walking in. “I’m not a kid…” you mumbled to yourself.

You didn’t bother glancing at the man you dubbed ‘Suit’, real name Jacob Sullivan Jones. It seems it’s time for JSJ to have a run in with the Gotham City Police Department. 

It is truly fortunate that Jacob doesn’t know where you're staying. Although he might not know about the warehouse inside the junkyard, he does know you are not a resident with no permanent home. He had stalked you for a bit after the first meeting (the bouncer was so easy to spot really), believing you’re homeless, alone, and a nobody (someone who nobody would miss or look for). You’re using that (somewhat of a mis)information to your advantage.

Leaving the desolate bar, thoughts consumed by the written list of criminals you drafted and plan to anonymously give it to the GCPD. How you got the other criminals caught was simple, you always used a payphone and gave anonymous tips. That won’t work here. At least not fully. Knowing the corruption, maybe you should hand it to the one of the cops you know isn’t corrupt.

Now, do you hack the police and email it? Print it/fax it and send it? Or hand it directly but as spider-woman? Well for starters, the second option is garbage because if the right person doesn’t see it first, it will just get covered up. Hacking into the GCPD and emailing it directly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, the only issue is, if they decided to forward that information to the bats, you’re fucked because then you know they’ll dig in and somehow find out about you.

It seems like going in as Spider-woman is the best bet, but then again, the bats are real close, too close for comfort. Should you take the risk? But if you don’t turn these criminals in, it will stay in your consciousness of letting innocents down. Guess you have to suck it up and do it then.

“This sucks” you mumbled, deep in thought. 

Suddenly you felt your body freeze. Feeling your spider sense go haywire, you looked up and hard swerved to the side, avoiding bumping into a stranger.

It seemed that your sudden change in direction caught the stranger’s attention and the person next to him, both heads snapped towards you.

Hands out of pocket awkwardly waving in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” Taking a look at the one you almost bumped into, he is tall, with black hair and vibrant blue eyes.

Taking note of your embarrassment the stranger chuckles, looking into your eyes, “No worries! Nice reflexes though!”

The stranger’s partner scowled in your direction and you could feel his eyes burning you alive. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” Venom.

“Don’t be rude, Dame.”

“Don’t call me that. We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Alrighty then, guess it’s time to fuck off. “Yes, thank you- again, so sorry.” You don’t even spare the other guy a glance, quickly scurrying off. Your spider sense hasn’t shut off and you don’t like where this is going. “Good bye.”

“Hey wait a minute!”

“What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.”

Not turning back, you quickened to a brisk walk away from this nauseating area. This whole goddamn experience is so nauseating. You just wanted to go home. Was that soooooo much to ask? Regardless, you did not want to know what those strangers wanted, and you were taught ‘stranger danger’ and it certainly applied here.

After a certain distance later, your senses dulled into a small buzz as you turned a corner and entered the public library. Taking your usual empty seat, you let out a deep sigh. This was what you were used to since coming into this world. Since being yoinked from another dimension and plopped in this universe, your senses never really shut off. It was like everything in this world was a danger, and it only spiked when reacting to blood lust, danger of a certain radius, and people who are incredibly strong. 

Recalling that one stranger, who looked too innocent enough for it to be bloodlust, just that their presence caught you so off guard. But your senses screamed at you, and it terrified you to an extent. This is why you can never really relax being here, even when you’re alone in the warehouse, you just feel so out of place, and in danger constantly. It was beginning to eat you up honestly.

You miss your innocent youthful days. God you sound old. But you really do miss having a home to go back to. A home where once you step inside, it’s warm, and two people would always greet you like a warm embrace.

Now it’s cold and desolate, barely anything inside, empty and lonely.

But now, you can’t even go there anymore. Even if it was painful to live in the same home that had more members, then reduced to just you, it was still home. 

You can’t even go home.

Remembering the words Jacob Sullivan Jones spoke to you earlier, you fish out the envelope. Taking note of the weight, it was decided to open it and find more than usual.

Picking up a small zip-lock bag, your eyes widened. It was an ID, an ID and a passport. Just what the fuck was Jacob going to do with giving you this? Why did he make this for you? What were his plans? No, you can’t think about that. This is a blessing for sure, and you’ll take it- but, you have to put Jacob in prison. Now.

This is a gift and you know that with criminals, all gifts are never for free. This is a ‘you owe me’ gift. “Fuck, this sucks.” You just want a moment of peace.

Think, you have to think. Now you have an identification, but, you don’t know if you’re in the system, since once again, incase you forgot, you don’t fucking exist here. Whatever Jacob was thinking, you definitely don’t want a part of it. You’re going to put a stop to this now.

Though, recalling the two strangers earlier, you don’t bother with the rude one of the two, more focused on the one with blue eyes. Something about him just stuck out to you. He looked vaguely familiar.

Okay, let’s take this from the top. You felt a strong sense of precaution, thus causing your spider sense to alert you. Your sense only went away when you were a considerable distance away from those two, so you know it’s about the strangers. Bases covered, perfect. What’s next?

 You only really focused on the one who you almost touched, so let’s continue from there. He is tall, a welldefine body, black hair, and vibrant blue eyes. That’s all you remember seeing now for what you heard. His friend/partner/acquaintance/fellow party member said ‘Kent’, this could be his name or surname but the name ‘Kent’ makes your throat clogged. You only know of another Kent and it’s a superhero.

It couldn’t be…right? 

Turning the computer on, you started typing away, fingers trembling, heart thumping loudly, head spinning, and body sweating. Please, please, please, be wrong. You prayed.

The window search lands on a somewhat recent news. Superman and Superboy save hundreds during bridge collapse! By Lois Lane Kent.

In the photo, on the front page was a scene, both Superman and Superboy. The older one was holding a piece of a bridge while the other younger one was using his heat vision. This was Superman’s son. And you came into contact with him.

You were royally fucking screwed.

Fuck- fuck! No, no nono! 

All the anxiety you tried to lock away came like a tsunami. You were reminded of how small you are in this world. How easy it is to find trouble even without looking. You wanted no part in this world but it seems the gods wanted to fuck you over and over again. 

And, as much as you wanted to curse out the Spot for yeeting you far faaaaaaar from your universe, you only blame yourself for latching onto him and getting lost on the way to his next destination.

God this sucks! You wanted to curl up and cry, but you can’t. You’re a big girl and so, you’ll deal with this fuckery later. After all, your best trait was putting your issues to the side and focusing on the bigger picture. This- meeting Superman’s son can wait. After all, you haven’t run into any bats besides Signal- yes you researched him when you had free time (you only knew of him but not really who he was), so for now, your spider luck has been blessing you thus far.

You need to focus on the bigger picture, getting Jacob and the other criminals caught.

Getting to work, you begin to type away your list that you memorized, the location of the bar, the owner of the bar was still a mystery but the one who runs it is Jacob, schedule of the bouncer shifts, and the names and alias of those who you encountered as well as the situation of misguided teens. You type it all, making sure to keep your real and fake identity out, you did put in your alias Nada, as a picked up street kid. Enough for it to be a ‘misguided’ teen situation but not enough to catch someone’s attention unless they were looking for it.

Now that you know you ran into Clark Kent’s son (a deduction), you know you can’t risk encountering him as spider-woman. Knowing that Superman can (somehow) memorize and identify someone based on their heart beat or whatever, so fuck no are you going to parade as spider-woman any time soon.

You swear to god that you will do everything you can to avoid meeting them in both their civilian personas and alter egos.

Calming yourself, you get ready to hack the GCPD, and leave a message.

‘They know. Scatter.’ 

It hits you. The epiphany of why Jacob had an ID and passport made for you. They were moving locations. Abandoning fort, and taking anyone who they wanted. Basically a trafficking ring for those who weren’t onboard, and a new opportunity for those who they saw potential in. 

Shit, you should have stopped this when Jacob found you, but you didn’t know anything then. Now it could be too late. But Jacob did say to lay low, so they’re mostly biding their time. Probably erasing, hiding, and misplacing real and fake evidence.

They need to get exposed now, ‘strike while the iron is hot’ as the saying goes. 

It seems like it’s time to meet the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, James “Jim” Gordon, as Spider-woman. How fun… 

Way to contratic your fucking promise so soon. Well, at least it’s a civilian and not a hero/vigilante. “This fucking sucks.”

-

Damian scoffed when Tim wanted to force his father the Batman into his lead. It’s not that he doesn’t want his father, it’s just this is an undercover sort of situation. He got a lead when he went to interrogate a pathetic military criminal. He can handle this mission on his own.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” Damian heard Jon chuckle, most likely overhearing this conversation with his super hearing. What a nuisance.  “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Well that was something. So, what’s the plan that you didn’t want Lizzie to be involved in?”

“Focus, Jon.” Damian explained their stakeout first, before going to don their costumes. Deep in their conversation, Damian caught sight of one of the suspects speed walking past them. He brings this to Jon’s attention. “It's him, the mercenary Christopher Conner.”

“Okay, so this bar is the place. Let me check real quick.” Using his vision, Jon’s eyebrow furrows. “Next door is styled like a wrestling ring, only two exits. From here and from an office. This is the place.”

“Then we’ll change and apprehend the criminal. Watch and hear what he is saying.” Jon followed Damian’s lead when someone jumped out of his way like he was burning them, causing Damian to also turn his head.

“I’m so sorry!” Despite the mask covering their mouth, their voice of this buffoon sounded androgynous, their clothes didn’t help to differentiate a gender either. But what he can see were this stranger’s eyes, and he can’t look away.

It seems neither can Jon as he chuckles and waves off the encounter. “No worries! Nice reflexes though!” Jon makes it very obvious he’s staring hard.

Just what is it about this total insignificant stranger that caught Damian’s undivided attention? From what he can see, they look normal (can’t really tell with that face mask though), but there is just something that has him unable to take his eyes off of them.

Jon has the same issue, and Damian narrowed his eyes in suspicion and scowls. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” 

Jon, without breaking eye contact, scolds Damina. “Don’t be rude, Dame.”

Snapping out of this trance, he snaps back,” Don’t call me that.” That’s right, they are on a mission, no distractions allowed. “We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Jon looks at Damian, as he too, regains his focus, eyes staring into each other as if communicating, he nods. They can come back to this after they finish their assignment. 

“Yes, thank you- again, so sorry. Good bye.” The stranger quickly scurried off.

Caught off guard Jon impulsively extended his arm out to grab their shoulder. “Hey wait a minute!” 

Damian acted faster, grabbing Jon’s arm. “What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.” Pointing towards the bar with his head. This isn’t good, they’re getting sidetracked.

Jon didn’t turn to look at Damian, no he was still staring at the stranger. “I just wanted to ask…” He trailed off as he strained his ears, focusing on their heartbeat, their breathing patterns, anything he could to commit to memory. “For their name.”

Damian, too, side glanced at the retreating figure, dissecting the way they moved, their tensed shoulders, everything until they were out of sight.

Jon wanted to ask their name. Was that weird? Their situation didn’t require him to ask their name. How would he even go about it, ‘Sorry for almost bumping into you, hey can I ask for your name?’ Yea, no.

“Damian, I-” Jon began before getting caught off.

“I know. We’ll deal with that later,” His eyes narrow, glancing at the bar. “Focus.” But he too was entranced. But he was much better at pushing that to the side, but he knows he won’t be able to hold it off for now. The best he can do is rein in Jon’s attention to the assignment.

Moving to a cafe nearby with a good view of the bar’s entrance, they ordered some drinks. This wasn’t Damians idea but he’ll let Jon have his way for cooperating.

Jon nodded, getting back into focus, using his super hearing to overhear the conversation inside the bar.

His stomach tingles at the thought of asking the stranger for their name.

Hand discreetly on his year Damian spoke, “Drake, look into the time of now and send it over to me.”

“Hey- wait-” Tim was caught off guard, “What’s this about? I thought you didn’t ‘require assistance’ for this.” He teased. 

“I don’t.” He shut the comms off. Now, back to work. “What’s going on Jon?”

“This is our guy. He’s getting assigned to deliver a package. This is serious. He’s upset.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Tt. Follow.”

Jon tunes into the conversation again.

“The police aren’t the issue. It’s the costumes that have been spotted close. We already lost a couple of our men to the cops.”

“And you don’t think that’s suspicious? We have a traitor!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Chris? Ever since Sebastian was caught by the fucking commissioner, the others have been getting caught like flies here in Gotham. He’s spilling, so I need to silence him.” 

“The usual?”

“No, not you this time. We’re leaving so I need you to focus on one more thing.”

“Is it about them, the one you want to recruit?”

“Yes, I want them-” a phone rang interrupting the conversation. “It’s the boss. Dismissed, I’ll send ya the rest later.”

“Understood sir. I’ll deliver the packages tonight.” The mercenary walked off, no longer as upset as earlier.

Jon, processing the information, becomes visibly upset. “They’re recruiting, and based on the conversation, it's the runaway and homeless teens that have been reported by the shelters. This is bigger than just Gotham. I think they’re leaving, moving somewhere else.”

“Let’s follow.” Damian’s attention was caught at the mercenary leaving the bar. “There.”

“The guy he was talking to said he would ‘send the rest later’, I think it will be on his phone.” Jon informed.

Damian absorbed the information. “We’ll follow and catch him red handed.”

“What about ‘the package’?” Jon questioned.

“What about them? I’ll forward the intel to the rest. We focus on this guy. The evidence on his phone is all we need.”

“Dame, I can’t with good conscience leave those vulnerable kids on their own.” Stressed Jon.

“And we’re not. The others will take care of it.” Damian replied. “When we apprehend the mercenary, acquire the intel, we go after this guy while the others detain their accomplices and rescue the runaways. They will all fall tonight, Jon, so focus.”

Jonathan Kent wanted to bite back, but he knows Damian ran this plan at least three times before bringing him along. Damian is just that strategic. And he places his full trust in him, god does this leave him unsatisfied. He knows those kids are trapped somewhere and if taking this mercenary and the manager from the bar out gets them safe faster, then he will do as he is told.

Something just feels out of place, this has been too easy so far. “Alright, he’s heading north.”

Damian nods, slipping away to change into his suit.

As if connected, Damian as well feels like things have been progressing smoothly. And when it comes to crimes committed in Gotham, when things are going good, then something isn’t right.

Ever since the first the GCPD have been arresting some low and decent levels of this new crime syndicate, news of some human trafficking organizations have been slowly getting uncovered as if by overnight. It started around five days ago, low level members were caught, and just two days ago, a higher member was arrested.

Ever since his father the Batman (he tagged along) interrogated him, he spilled like a waterfall. Since they have been cracking down on the case, they know this criminal organization is trying to get on the levels of Black Mask or The Penguin.

The only issue is, this was only exclusive to Gotham, now based on what Jon relay to him, this is just a small base, there are others. He refuses to let this go on any further. Not to his city, or his people. Yet, there is this itch in the back of his head. These captures were by far too easy, and these people aren’t sloppy. No, they had been operating for some time, and yet they were getting caught like moths to a flame due to anonymous tips being called in. Someone out there is deliberately getting these scumbags caught.

And Batman believes it could possibly have a connection to the other pressing issue that’s consuming his thought. There has to be a connection to the quantum disturbance from a little over a week ago. It’s just too coincidental for it not to be. 

Something is happening in Gotham, and he will get to the bottom of this.

-

You know, people say to plan for everything, thus making Batman a force to be reckoned with since he is the master of having contingency plans and backup plans for those backup plans. And yet, here you are, with a plan and life just wants to fuck you over and expects you to just deal with it.

No.

After coming up with spider-woman handing the commissioner Jim Gordon a list of criminals and misguided teens, you just needed to go and change. But here you are, running into a situation if you will. 

You see, after running away from Superman's son, and a printed list folded neatly in your pocket as you head ‘home’, you started to feel the icky sensation of being watched. Years of experience and knowing how not to tip off that you know, you head away from your place of operations and head up north. 

Though despite not giving signs of how utterly fucking tense and anxious you are, you rationalize that it can not be any of the birds because you haven’t done anything suspicious. That, and the fact that your spider sense isn’t screaming at you of danger so for now, that’s calming you down.

On the other hand, you still have no clue who is following you. It was like, thirty minutes since running into the super, and no call from the burner phone. This whole ‘being followed’ is a fucking nuisance, putting a wrench in your plans. 

The only good thing is that, since you are technically surrounded by civilians walking about, they can’t really do anything to you, unless they want to cause panic amongst the innocents. Though, that wouldn’t stop someone from shooting you if they wanted you dead. 

Still, regardless if you are wanted dead (highly unlikely) or alive (for whatever reason) you don’t want to lead innocent civilians into this, so away you go! Informing Jim Gordon can wait (not it can’t), you’ll lose your pursuer and then catch them!

Turning a corner, into alleyways, zig zagging, you hear their footsteps pick up. Persistent.

While running away, you form theories. We crossed out the batsonas, you haven’t done or got caught with anything to be on their radar afterall, it can’t be a random crook because for one, you look poor too, and second, they’re chasing you for a reason. Another idea was maybe it has something to do with Jacob. But that doesn’t make much sense since you just got a burner phone. 

Something just isn’t adding up. 

Your spider sense spiked as you turned down a corner. Despite this, you kept going straight, ready to take on whoever was going to appear in front of you. 

With a very good distance between you and your pursuer you took this chance to discard your mask and sweatshirt (thank god for having a tank top) ontop of a parked motorcycle as you turned another corner, there stood a man near the end of the alleyway, tall and (once again) wellbuilt, with black hair just standing there, phone in hand.

Quickly you jogged towards him (he glanced your way) and grabbed his arm, startling him. “Sorry, please play along!” you whispered and pulled him.

The stranger only had one second to figure out what was happening. In that split second though, he heard a plea for help. The next thing he knew, he had his free hand on the wall above your head while the other one was moved to your waist. Back towards the wall and having his big frame engulf yours, you let his arm go and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him towards your face. 

It's only then that you take in his appearance, handsome from what you can see, and your heart dropped. “I’m being followed,” you muttered, noticing the stranger’s eyes roam your face before settling on your eyes. “I don’t know who they are.”

The man in front of you nodded, kept in place as footsteps hastily turned the corner, running past the both of you. Your body tensed up watching the hooded figure stop at the end of the alleyway. Taking the chance to observe the guy, he pulled out a phone while looking both ways before exiting from your view.

While you were distracted the stranger in front of you pulled back, making your release your hold. He was quiet. “Once again, I’m so sorry! Thank you!” You nervously backed away, in the opposite direction your pursuer went.

He grunted, watching you walk back away. He opened his mouth to speak but the phone in his hand began to ring. He glanced down at the caller before looking back up. 

You were already gone, picking up your sweatshirt and mask, donning them on and running away. Your heart was pounding so loud, it rang in your ear. That was Jason mother fucking Todd. You ran into the Red Hood. What the fuck was he doing in the Narrows?!

Recalling the words Jacob spoke earlier, it echoed through your head. ‘Bats.’ That’s right. The fucking bats are intown, and this was too close for comfort. This sucks balls!

“Focus, focus. Officer Gordon, here I come.” To the junkyard you go.

-

Jason watched the very pretty woman leave him with his thoughts. Getting pulled into caging someone against a back alley wall was not in his cards today, but with Gotham, one always has to expect the unexpected. 

Speaking of the unexpected, he let himself momentarily get distracted recalling the bold stranger from earlier. Something about this woman, rendered him quiet. But at the same time, he took note of just how anxious she was. Tensed body, eyebrows furrowed, worried expression, scared eyes, and over all the way she held onto him while losing her pursuer. He wondered just what kind of trouble found her. It seems crime really doesn’t stop during the daylight.

He committed her face to memory, and will touch upon her situation once he finished his current assignment. 

“You still there?” the voice spoke from his phone.

“Yea, I’m still here. I’m in the Narrows, following the lead.”

“Good, while Damian follows the mercenary, you got the manager. I’m seeing some suspicious moments. Turn on your commlink, Bruce is already moody as he is.”

“When isn’t he like that.” Jason rolled his eyes as he walked back to his bike that he parked further in the alley. Before taking off, he glanced in the direction the stranger went. Her actions and the sound of her voice repeated inside his mind like an echo, burning itself in his memory.

Prev; Next;

I realized everything I wanted for this chapter did not happen. So now it's split into two parts- oops. Side note, this will not be a yandere series, though I do think they get 'possessive' sure, not yandere though. I finally know how I am going to end the Act, the issue is the in between that I struggle with.

Yay, you met Jon and Jason. Next up are Cass, Steph, Dick, and Tim the only ones left.

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman had an eidetic memory.

Spider-Woman does not know about the trafficked kids.

Spider-Woman did not notice Damian.

If Spider-Woman had to choose between saving a life and going home, she'd save the life.

Spider-Woman's is bad at grieving and worse with failure.

[ennabear]

i beg of you to write more mean abby.. i reread all of ur mean abby works religiously i swear i just love her too much ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ NONNIEEEEE STOP THIS JS TOO SWEET!!!! IM BLUSHING IM BLUSHING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! sorry this is a lil bit messy, i haven’t really had time to lock in on anything official I HOPE THATS OKAY!!!! here are some thoughts… 18+

i think mean!abby is one of those people who are discreetly rich. she’s not the type of person to go on big fancy vacations, or buy expensive sports cars, or to always have the newest technology. before she met you, she probably spent most of her money on books or expensive brands of tea imported from countries she’s never even heard of. after she met you, though? she’d swipe her card a million times a day to see you smile.

the best way i can describe her personality is like some old cranky grandpa, the scary guy on the block who never smiles but is very confrontational. if you’ve seen her around, you’d know that she’s always wearing a scowl, only leaves her penthouse apartment early to go to the gym, and has beef with most of her neighbors. but if you know know her? she’s a sweetie pie. she loves spontaneous sweet treats, slow dancing to 70’s music, old horror films (mean!abby letterboxd goes CRAZY i just know), and most shockingly, her cats.

and she LOVES those fuckers. it’s so perfect how she can have a companion who’s quiet and small and independent, and two of them? barely any responsibility. they have an automatic feeder, entertain each other, and only bug her about once a day for attention.

as for her job, i could see her having two possibilities. one being an extreme workaholic. maybe an office job or a surgeon or something?? (NOT a nurse because they’re supposed to be good at talking to people…) OR she only really works part time, some freelance job that doesn’t really have any rules. a photographer or a tattoo artist or some sort of small business that she can mostly manage on her own. money has never been an issue for her, coming from a family of doctors. her ass was spoiled rotten as a kid, and after her dad died she inherited all of that money.

she’s the biggest protector in the world. someone was talking shit about you? she’s breaking their nose right now actually. i think the biggest reason she’s “mean” is because she actually just has anxiety. the last time she felt a love this strong, it was for her dad. she can’t afford to lose you like she lost him, so she always has to make sure you’re safe and sound. it’s not like she’s trying to be controlling by texting you every half hour, she just worries that maybe she won’t be able to protect you for once, and it’ll be at the worst possible time.

ok lock in here are some nsfw thoughts :3

you know that trope that’s like “big mean stoic character is actually the subbiest bottomest little puppy in the whole world.” yeah…. if you don’t agree what are you still doing here.

it definitely took her a while to be this vulnerable, but jesus christ is it worth it!!! the way you get to watch her squirm and whimper underneath you, knowing that you’re the only one who can make her feel this way. to give your big protective guard dog girlfriend a night off, to take care of her in return for all that she does for you.

and she lovessss being tied up!!!! something about the intimacy of knowing you’re gonna give her a good time makes her submit to you almost instantly. she has to trust you on this, has sit back and relax and let her brain melt because she physically can’t do anything about it.

when she does dom i imagine she’s a pretty big brat tamer. c’mon, not everyone has the luxury of having a girlfriend like her. if you don’t act grateful she’ll whip you in to shape. literally. she’s not afraid of a good spanking.

also she’s strapped up 24/7 but this is canon in every universe… no matter what she’s doing or where she’s going or who she’s gonna meet, the strap stays ON!!! just in case she may need it….

but she’s the aftercare QUEEN. of course. apart from the basics like food, water, cuddles, etc. she has tonssss of knowledge on proper aftercare. you’d never have to worry about being hurt or getting a uti or feeling unloved because she’s read every forum to exist about aftercare!!! i just know this bitch runs a tumblr kink blog like it’s the military… 🤦

that’s all…. going to eep now……

[imyourbratzdoll]

I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[moeblob]

I normally don't bother reblogging my ocs to main (I have done the reverse a couple times) but guys I just want you to know that I love these weird siblings. I don't have much experience drawing dragons but I can learn later.

I really missed these siblings.

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

It Feels Like Home (Logan Howlett x F! Reader) Part 1/?

A/N: This is dedicated to anyone that requested a soft/hurt comfort Wolverine story. This is only the first part, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: "The Worst One" Logan 'Wolverine' Howlett x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, mentions of abuse/assault, nightmares, showering together (non-sexual), being sick (cold), Logan being protective, deadpool and wolverine spoilers.

Word Count: 3.8K

It was just another boring Monday evening at the bar when you first met him. The floors were sticky, the jukebox in the corner crooning, drowning out the conversations only mildly interrupted by the cue balls smacking together. 

But when he entered, the room seemed to shift. His shoulders were slunched down, making him seem small but it did little to deter the others in the room from outright staring. And who could blame them? As he slid into the stool across from you, lifting his eyes to stare at you, you could feel the liquid pool inside you. The dark brown hair, tussled from running his fingers through it, lips swollen from constantly biting, and those eyes. It takes a moment before you realize he’s asked for a drink while you’ve been ogling him at your bar. 

You turn grabbing the whiskey and a glass, turning back and shouting when the owner, Jim, grabs your wrist tightly. “We don’t want you here,” he sneers at the man, no not a man a mutant, the last mutant. 

“Just give me one drink and I’ll go,” he sighs, tapping the bar with two fingers. 

“You’re not wanted here,” Jim lets go and pushes you further down the bar, ignoring how your feet stumble and you hit the counter hard, wincing. 

But the man at the bar doesn’t. “Take it easy,” he warns, eyes narrowing, “she didn’t do anything.” 

“Jim,” you clear your throat, putting down the glass and rubbing at your side, “we can give him one drink, right?” 

Jim glares and you lower your eyes, before he sighs loudly, “One drink, then he gets the fuck out of my bar.” He sticks out a finger towards you and you slowly raise your head, “and don’t fucking talk to him.” 

Jim walks back towards the office and slams the door, and you step forward, pulling out a fresh glass, putting it on the bar, and filling it. “I’m sorry about him,” you grab a rag and start cleaning glasses, “he can be a real asshole sometimes.” 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be talking to me,” you stop and glance up, catching him staring at you as he quickly drinks the shot. 

“I can talk to whoever I want,” you go back to the glasses, “and for the moment, I choose you.” 

You grab the bottle and pour him another drink, ignoring those around you staring daggers into the side of your head. “You’re making some enemies,” he grabs the drink and downs it, eyes widening slightly when you fill it for a third time. “But I get the sense you don’t give a shit.” 

“I don’t,” you raise your head, leaning on the bar, tossing a finger back and forth, and raising your voice, “these fuckers try to make it seem like they are holier than thou by judging you. But we’ve all made mistakes in our life.” 

He swallows, tapping his fingers and watching as you fill the glass, “I made more than a mistake,” he raises the glass to his lips. 

“So it was on purpose?” the glass pauses and he lifts his eyes to meet yours, “because if that’s the case it changes things.” He narrows his eyes, lowering the glass with a clink as he sets it down hard on the bar, the liquid sloshing over the rim. His silence is telling and you break contact and go back to cleaning glasses, “maybe we started on the wrong foot,” you put the glass down with a sigh, telling him your name. 

He doesn’t respond and you roll your eyes, “This is usually the point where you tell me your name.” 

“Seems like you already know all about me, bub,” he grabs the glass and tosses it back with a wince. “I’m the Wolverine, the fuck up, the murderer,” his glare could melt iron but you don’t bend easily keeping his gaze, “but they call me Logan.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you pour him another drink, “so what brings you to town?” 

Logan furrows his brow, “what the fuck?” 

“Business or pleasure?” you continue, ignoring him. You giggle when you glance at him, seeing the utter confusion on his face, “I’m trying to change the subject. I think you’ve had enough doom and gloom for a lifetime.” 

His eyes soften for a second, so quickly you could have blinked and missed it before he scoffs, “I’m just passing through.” 

“Where are you headed?” 

“I-” he hesitates, “I’m not sure.” 

“Stop fucking talking to him,” Ron one of the regulars stands behind him, and he slowly turns to look at him. “The boss told you to serve him one drink and get him the fuck out, are you hard of hearing? Stupid bitch.” 

“What did you say?” Logan turns all the way around and stands. The tension is electric as other patrons stand and take a menacing step closer. 

“Enough!” you shout, coming around the bar to stand in front of Logan, ignoring how he’s so tall he can see over your head. “Everyone stand down,” you lift your arms out like wrangling a bunch of raptors. “Ron, don’t be a fucking asshole!” 

Suddenly a gun shoots off to the right and you flinch curling in to cover your head, and a warm body wraps around you, tugging you into their chest. “What the fuck is going on here?!” Jim holds the shotgun and you straighten up, hands pressed to Logan’s chest, his hands still wrapped protectively around your waist. “Get your hands off my fucking bartender,” he swings the gun towards Logan who pushes you behind him. 

“Why don’t you lower the gun, bub?” Logan lifts a hand toward Jim. 

“You don’t tell me what do,” Jim aims the gun at him, “now pay your tab and get the fuck out of my bar.” 

Logan keeps an eye on the weapon, covering you with his body and pulling his wallet from his pocket, grabbing a hundred dollar bill, and putting it on the bar. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, his voice quiet when he whispers, “see you around, sweetheart,” before taking off through the side door. 

The silence stretches, and Jim lowers the gun before turning to you with a glare, “My office, now!” 

The ass-chewing you received that night should have been enough to deter you from ever speaking the name Logan again but the next night when he showed up sitting in the same stool at the bar, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Hi,” you whispered, glancing around the mostly empty bar, Jim was off for the evening, and the other patrons already lost in their cups. Tuesdays were always the slowest. 

“Hey bub,” his voice is gravely and sends shivers down your spine. He waits for you to pour him a drink before catching your wrist softly when you pull back with the bottle, “you okay?” 

You pull from his touch and put down the bottle, his hand quickly retreating thinking you don’t want his touch. You put out your hand, palm up and he watches you for a moment before slowly putting his hand in your waiting palm. You squeeze, smiling at him, “I got my ass chewed out, and threatened to lose my job but besides that nothing. Jim knows he needs me.” 

“I’m sorry I got you into trouble,” he looks around, “he around tonight?” 

“No, he’s never in on Tuesdays. And he usually leaves by 11:30 each night.” The edge of his lips curves for a second before he tosses back the drink, understanding what you’re trying to tell him, and he nods. 

“That’s good.” 

The rest of the week passes much the same, Logan showing up well after midnight when the majority of the crowd and Jim have retired for the evening. The two of you sharing stories over whiskey, and 80’s power ballads. There was something safe about having Logan there, an understanding between the two of you, you’d never experienced with another. 

Each night he’d wait as you locked up the bar, walking you to your car before taking off down the street, an uneasy friendship forming. But everything changed on Saturday. You woke with a splitting headache and a fever, tossing and turning in bed, sweating through the sheets you reached for the cell on the bedstand, and texted Jim you wouldn’t be in. 

The whole day was miserable, laying there sick as a dog and trying to keep down water and some soup from the cabinet. It was around 11:00 pm when you felt the fever finally break and you lifted your phone to see the time. It only took a second through the haze to feel the utter terror take over. “Logan,” you gasped pushing back the blanket and getting dressed as quickly as possible, the whole process taking you longer than normal. 

Logan stumbled out into the alley, the crowd cheering behind him as his inebriated body slammed into the trash cans. “Taking out the trash!” Jim shouts with a grin before spitting on him and slamming the door shut. 

He didn’t bother getting up, it wasn’t worth the effort. He lowered his head back and looked at the stars sprinkled across the sky seeing a swell of clouds looming in the distance, his heart starting to beat faster at the sting in his eyes. He closes his eyes as the first drop of rain falls from the sky, and he lets it quickly drown him, his clothes plastered to his skin. 

“Storm,” he whispers her name, his chest tightening as he struggles to breathe through the pain. His friends are dead and gone, and it’s all his fault. He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t hear the footsteps getting closer. 

“Fuck,” you blink, glancing down at him and he slowly opens his eyes squinting as the water drips down his forehead. You purse your lips for a moment before sighing and leaning down, balancing the umbrella in one hand and reaching for him with the other, “Come on, help me.” 

“Leave me,” he slurs, cursing when you don’t quit, “fuckin’ leave me!” 

“Nope, not happening,” you drop the umbrella and quickly get soaked in the downpour, “come on, time to get up.” He growls, and you see the beginning of his claws break through his knuckles, “going to stab me?” You raise a brow at him, “then do it.” 

His claws retract and he sighs loudly before standing on unsteady legs, his body leaning forward to faceplant when you grab him around the waist. “Fuck,” he’s heavy, and you struggle before getting him upright and leading him toward the parking lot. 

A couple of men stand outside the door to the bar by some bikes and you try to hide his face as you shuffle him toward your car. “You finally taking one of the boys up on their offer?” they jeer at you and you smile tightly walking faster, and cursing when you hear the boots sound behind you. 

“Come on,” you urge the man beside you, “they can’t see you.” You reach the car, open the passenger door, and shove him inside, quickly shoving in his leg and turning around to lean against the door, blocking him, your breathing fast and hard from the effort. 

“Wait,” one of the men stops, squinting through the glass, “is that, that fuckin’ mutant?” They all freeze looking between the man slumped in your car and you, and you back up as they move closer. “You like mutants, slut?” they close in and you reach for the key in your pocket, hand quickly finding the pepper spray and sliding the safety off. 

The words spewing out of their mouths are vile, the rain soaking through their clothes as they corner you into the streetlight. The smell of their breaths reeks of alcohol and you go to pull out the pepper spray when one grabs your wrist and twists, smiling when you let out a painful gasp. “Oh, come on slut, we know you like it rough,” he grins.

“Let her go,” they all freeze, turning and staring at the man leaning against your car. 

One of the men, grabs your arm and pulls you into his chest, his hand running over your breasts, “and what are you going to do about it?” You squirm trying to get away from his touch, and the claws extend, his hand quickly leaving your breast to push you behind him. 

“You don’t want to do this,” Logan warns, pushing off the car and standing straight. 

“Oh, I think we do,” the man in front of you smiles, pulling brass knuckles from his pocket. You watch with wide eyes as they pull out a variety of weapons; guns, knives, and even nunchucks. The air is electric, the streetlight flickering as if it senses the tension before one of the men shouts, “Come on, let’s go!” 

Logan grins, “Let’s fucking go.” 

You drop to your knees and crawl through their legs, scrambling up before the axe drops and reach for Logan, coughing up a storm and trying to catch your breath, his claws retract as he grabs you pulling you into his chest and looking down at you with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong-”

“Don’t kill them,” you hold the lapels of his coat, nails digging in as he growls at them over the top of your head as if they made you sick, “it will only make things worse.” 

“I won’t kill them,” he pushes you behind him with a grin, “just a little light maiming.” You nod and turn towards the car, sitting in the driver's seat escaping the rain and turning on the heater. The screams are quickly drowned out when you turn up the music, reach for a towel from your swim bag in the backseat, and dry your body the best you can. 

A few minutes later the passenger door opens and Logan plops beside you. He’s covered in blood but you don’t comment, tossing him the towel and heading towards home. The ride home is silent and when you pull into your house, he gets out before the key is out of the ignition. You scramble out, watching as he walks back towards the road, “where are you going?” 

“Listen,” he stops looking back towards you, water dripping down his face, “I appreciate what you did back there. But that is where this partnership ends, I don’t need your charity. Just follow the rest of the world and hate me, it will save you a lot of trouble.” 

He turns away and you follow, “Listen, it’s freezing outside, and I know for a fact you have nowhere to go. It won’t kill you to accept help for a night.” 

“No,” he turns angrily, “but it could very well get you killed. Those guys back there were ready to assault you for helping me. Imagine what people will do to you if they find out you let me stay here. I have enough blood on my hands.” 

“So you’re going back to the park to sleep?” you put your hands on your hips, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been at the bar every night for the past week. You leave when I do and I see you go into the park.” 

“You stalking me, princess?” he sneers. 

“No,” you shake your head, shivering, “but I see someone that could use some help. And I am offering it. Take it.” 

He watches you for several moments, and you feel your fingers start to lose feeling from the cold, shoulders trembling as you tuck your hands into your jacket. “Fine,” he bites, following behind you as you lead the way to the door, hiding your smile. Your fingers shake, the key struggling to find the lock and he holds onto your hand, his hands solid and warm helping you unlock the door before quickly pulling away. 

“You need to get warm,” he mumbles quietly, locking the door behind him and pushing you further into the house. The water pools beneath you and he frowns before sweeping his hands under your legs and lifting you into his arms. “Where’s the bathroom?” your eyes are wide as you wrap your arms around his neck, nodding towards the stairs. 

He doesn’t break a sweat as he carries you up and into the bathroom. He sits you down gently, quickly going to turn the shower on, the steam filling the room. You struggle with the zippers and buttons on your clothes, the shaking worse now that you’re out of the rain and he watches for a moment before sighing loudly. 

“Trust me,” you snap your head up, raising one brow and gasping when his claws descend on his right hand, “I won’t look.” 

“What are you-” the words evaporate when he runs the claw down your front, you close your eyes waiting for the pain but nothing happens except your clothes falling to your feet in ribbons. When you open your eyes you see his back, stiff as he faces the door, “thanks.” 

He doesn’t reply except to nod, and you pull back the curtain and pause, hesitating for a moment. “Do you want to join me?” His head snaps to look at you, his eyes on your own, never straying lower. “I don’t mean anything sexual, I just….I just thought we could both be warm.” 

His eyes change, less of the harsh lines, something complex, and his eyes keep yours as he starts to strip. You give him a moment when he hesitates at the suit hidden behind his clothes and you get under the hot water, letting it warm you up. A moment later the curtain moves back and he fills the space behind you. 

You turn towards the wall, letting out a harsh cough, and he leans around you reaching for the soap, “you’re sick,” he doesn’t bother phrasing it as a question, “why the hell were you out in this weather?” 

You turn, looking at him, water dripping down into your lashes, “I knew you would come. I thought if I could stop you before you went inside and I wasn’t there. I was trying to protect you.” 

His eyes soften, and he nods, “let me take care of you, sweetheart.” He rubs his hands together, holding them hesitantly before you step into his touch, allowing him to wash you. You relax under his touch and he turns you, stepping behind you to press his chest flush to your back, your head leaning back over his shoulder as he rinses you under the hot water. He repeats the process with your hair, allowing you to close your eyes and rest your head on his chest while he cleans you both. 

It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with a man, and you’d had sex several times before. But something about this was different, his hands tracing over your body was not sexual both of you getting comfort from the touch. 

You lift your head, and he freezes almost as though you’re going to tell him to fuck off, but instead you pump some shampoo into your head and gesture for him to bend down. He does without complaint and his eyes drift closed as you wash his hair, his hands resting gently on your hips, you take your time, washing off the dirt and grime. You can’t help but wonder when the last time he had a shower was before you’re directing him under the water to rise. His lips release a soft moan, and you smile softly seeing him so relaxed. 

He slowly opens his eyes, seeing your lips turned up and he tugs you back into his chest. The water begins to turn cold, and he quickly leans down to turn it off, before pulling you back into his arms and resting his head against your own. You feel the ghost of his lips press to your forehead before he reaches for the towels and wraps them around your body. 

He gets out first, reaching a hand out to help you out before drying you completely. “I think I have some clothes that might fit you.” He pauses, looking at you questioningly, “my ex left some of his clothes when he skipped town, they might fit you.” 

He nods, watching as you go into the bedroom, coming back out in fresh pajamas and handing him the shirt and boxers. You leave him to get dressed, waiting in the hallway and leaning against the wall with your eyes closed, your head throbbing. 

The door quietly opens and you stand up straight opening your eyes to see him in the black t-shirt and plaid boxers. “Goodnight,” he mumbles, walking past you back towards the living room. 

“Wait,” you reach out without thinking, hand landing on his shoulder, solid and so warm. He glances down at your hand and you go to pull away when he reaches for it, holding it lightly in his own. “You can sleep with me,” you swallow down the nerves, “if you want. No pressure, just..I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

He watches you, contemplation clear on his face weighing the pros and cons. He gives a shallow nod, squeezing your hand before letting go. You don’t question it, turning back towards your bedroom, Logan’s footsteps following close behind. You tug the curtains closed, flicking on the fan overhead and pulling down the covers, Logan’s hand hovers over the t-shirt before pulling it off and climbing into the bed. 

You can’t help the way your eyes trail down over his muscles and a smile tugs just barely at the corner of his lips when he opens his arms and you collapse into them. He reaches across, flicking off the lamp and you both relax into one another, sleep quickly claiming you as his breathes even out. 

Sometime around 3 am Logan begins to stir, his arms around you tightening and his breath quickening.You grogilly rub your eyes and lean back, watching his head thrash back and forth as he starts to mumble. “Jean, Scott, Charles, Storm, Beast-” he repeats the names tormented and you put a hand to his chest feeling his pulse race. 

“Logan,” you whisper, rubbing gently the crease between his forehead, “it’s just a nightmare. Come back to me,” he stills, his heart still racing beneath your palm but he slowly blinks open his eyes. “You’re safe,” you whisper, his hand clutching the one on his chest tightly, his eyes wide, frightened from his dreams. “You’re safe, come back to me,” you tighten your grip on his hand, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Everyone leaves me,” he whispers, brokenly, pressing his forehead to your own, your heart shattering for this man. 

“I won’t,” you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him and pulling his head into your chest, “you’re safe here, you’re home.”

I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think!

[acotarxreader]

Swept Away

Cassian x Reader, Rhysand's sister

Synopsis: Cassian is growing desperate to make his feelings about you known but Rhysand is ever protective of his little sister.

Warnings: Silly, Angst, pining, blood, a creep in a bar, poor Azriel wing-manning like nobody's business, protective Cassian, overprotective Rhysand

A/N: A Cassian fic because it has been some time since he's been featured on the blog. I hope you guys enjoy this silly lil guy. Please forgive any mistakes in this, I wrote it while not feeling the best.

-------------------------------------------------

Cassian stood at the edge of one of the Windhaven training rings, his two brothers sparring across the mud. To the untrained eye, they looked as though they were gonna kill one another but Cassian knew this was all just goofing around. He felt his heart vibrate off his ribcage, waiting for Rhysand to tire himself out enough that he wouldn’t chase and mangle him for the question he was going to ask. He counted through his breaths, forcing himself to focus on releasing the stress from his chest. They finally stopped their clashing, neither conceding but both ready for dinner, calling a truce as they bellowed out brotherly laughter. 

“Hey Cass, ready for the mixer tonight?” Rhysand wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm, gratefully taking the cup of water offered by Azriel. 

“Oh yeah yeah, very excited, have a good session?” he spoke quickly, eager to get the words out of him before he lost his nerve.

“Definitely, I feel on cloud 9 now”

“Good, good, soooo just letting you know-I’m-going-to-ask-YN-out-tonight-after-the-mixer-okay-bye!” Cassian vibrated out before spinning on his heel and moving to bolt away. 

“Oh fuck” Azriel whispered as Rhysand caught hold of Cassian's shoulder, turning him back to face him. In hindsight, maybe saying this to Rhysand when he was pumped full of testosterone wasn’t the correct call Cassain thought. 

“Sorry Cass, I think I hallucinated, what did you say?” “I’m going to ask YN out”

“No, you’re not” A laugh left Rhysand as he released his shoulder and loosened the belt of blades slung around him. 

“Why not?” Azriel inhaled a breath that sounded like “here we go” at Cassian's question. 

“She’s my sister, so she’s like your sister, it's like illegal or something” Cassian scoffed a laugh at Rhysand’s half-answer.

“Except the four of us aren’t actually siblings and the sentiment is nice and all but I’m not her brother, I want to ask her out, nothing creepy about it” Rhysand’s turn to laugh at Cassian, shoving him back lightly at the words and leaning down to loosen his training boots.

“Nah Cass, forget it, move on, I forbid it”

“You what?” he bit out in return, Azriel’s eyes darting between the two, this was going to turn into another savage argument, he could see it. 

“Right, let's leave it there-” Azriel tried but was almost immediately cut off by Rhysand.

“-Yeah, I forbid it. I don’t want things to get messy”

“They won’t, I think we would be- “-Forget it Cass, enough drama was caused with Mor-” Azriel took a sharp inhale at Rhysand’s low blow, the two males began to square up to one another just as you called from the sidelines. 

“Hey! Come on, start getting ready, have a bath before the smell poisons the flowers” you beamed, raising an eyebrow at Azriel at the weird energy. He just shook his head at you not to get involved. Your gaze separated the two males, both storming away to their quarters. 

“Fuckers always leave me to tidy up” Azriel signed, picking up the kit the three had used in training. 

—---------------------------------------------

The howling Winter wind ripped through the hills of the Illyrian mountains, coursing through Windhaven. You looked out through the living room window of the place you called home in this unforgiving climate.

“YN? Are you okay?” Your brother whispered from the front door as he shook off the biting snow. 

“I’m fine Rhys, how was the mixer?” 

“Unsurprisingly violent-” He laughed, a small smile growing on your face at the sound “-Are you sure you’re okay? You look as though you are going to run away” Rhysand laughed again to cover his rising worry.

“Nothing to concern yourself with Rhys, I’m going to just go read in my room” You tried your best to beam back in your usual way to him, rising from the window seat and wandering to your room down the hall. Rhysand questioned whether or not he should follow you, deciding to return to bed and inquire further in the morning.

You stared up at the ceiling, the clock yearning to strike midnight as you sighed. You quietly strapped on your shoes and sheathed yourself in your thickest jacket. You ever so gently lifted the sash window of your ground-level room and slipped out into the night, knowing your brother and mother would go feral with the knowledge of you going into the Illyrian camp unattended at night, despite your own strength. 

You moved through the shadows of the grey mountain stone buildings, dipping out of the sight of passing party-worn Illyrians until you found yourself wandering down the disused service lane heading in the direction of the closest village. The chill sent shapes of cold down your spine as you fought the feeling of watching wild eyes from the deep thick woods the lane cut through. Your wings clung tight to your back trying to draw any ounce of warmth possible. You stopped and stretched before launching into your routine jogging trailing along the outskirts of the busy village, a relaxed breath releasing the stress.

Swirled in your own deep thoughts, the sudden weight thrown into your side caught you entirely off guard as you instinctively screamed. A hand wrapped tightly around your jaw preventing further alarm from being raised in your desperate shouts.

The wooded path grew thicker and thicker the further you were hauled into the woods, worst-case scenarios dancing across your mind. The movement suddenly stopped as you felt the solid thud of the body of a tree meeting your back, you forced your eyes open to meet your perpetrator. 

“Boo”

“GODS! YOU FUCKING JERK CASSIAN!” You pushed Cassian backwards and almost off his feet while lashing him with your hands into his shoulder blades while he hunched over howling laughing. 

“Your face!” he managed between laughs, half choking.

“Don’t do that to me! I thought it was one of the trainee warriors trying to earn his stripes!”

“Don't even joke about that YN, I’d kill them where they stood” his suddenly serious tone cut through you before you smiled at him. Cassian seemingly remembered the fright he gave you, returning to his laughter as you both strolled back towards the path. 

“I’ll walk you back YN, protect you from-”

“-From psychopaths who might sweep me away into the woods?!” you cut across him, now both laughing into the freezing night. 

“Why are you out so late anyway? Your mother and Rhys would be very unhappy with you”

“I could say the same to you” You raised an eyebrow to the warrior.

“I had business, I care not to go further into it with a Lady” he faux bowed towards you, gaining an eye-roll from you.

“Seriously YNN, what’s with the twilight running?”

“Nothing really”

“Tell me or I’ll start singing” You gave a sceptical look towards your dear friend before he took a deep inhale and belted half a note of pure torture, your hand covering his mouth at the release of the crow song. 

“Okay okay!” You laughed, pulling back your hand “-I was actually… I was actually thinking of going home to Velaris” You admitted, ending the momentary comfortable silence that bounced off the ancient trees. Cassian pursed his lips in thought, trying his best to not show all his cards, a futile attempt. 

“This is why we can’t be together YNN, so hung up on the glitz and glamour of city life, can't appreciate the wild” 

“I’m pretty sure the reason we can't be together is that I don’t like you” Cassain put his hand to his chest feigning hurt, you scoffed at your long-time friend before continuing along the path.

“No more nightly running alone YN, seriously dangerous especially for precious cargo like a High Lord's daughter, someone might take you as their chance to prove themselves and then I’ll have to commit murder and I don’t like my leathers to get messy” he ran a hand through his hair as you fought the urge to shove him again. 

“Aw you think I’m precious” you sarcastically shot back

“The most precious thing we have in this dump” his sincere tone ringing through you.

“We'll leave here someday Cass, get on with our real lives”

“We?”

“Well yeah I'm going to need someone to carry my bags” you smirk and he nudges you across the snowy path.

“Can't leave my partner in crime behind me now can I?” His genuine smile of gratitude made you feel warm. He always did. No one could quite understand him like you. The subtle glow of the training camp in the far distance came into view and you sighed at the sight. 

“Come on Cass, come get a drink in the village, I don’t want to head back just yet” he nodded to your great idea as you looped your arm through his for warmth and sauntered back towards the village. 

—----------------------

The village bar was heaving with Fae, all deeply relying on the crutch of alcohol to soothe their woes. You attempted to play snooker with Cassian, well beyond the scope of your ability. After playing and losing a few rounds with him, you sat at the bar away from his ridicule, allowing him to play more challenging opponents.

You sat cross-legged on the bar stool absent-mindedly tracing circles along the rim of your glass of caramel colour liquor. A rough hand found its way to your thigh, snapping your attention to the wall-like Fae it belonged to. 

“He-y it's the Night’s se-xy daughteeer, hey baaaby” The slur of words matched the smothering stench of centuries of whiskey leaving his wrinkled mouth. 

“Um Hi” You pushed his hand down roughly before it returned just as quickly and much higher, now squeezing your thigh making you tense. The much older Fae came closer to your face, leaning and whispering drunken inappropriate schemes in your ear. You scoffed in utter disgust, shoving him completely back from you. 

“Hey Prin-cess, you don’t fucking do that! Come here!” He almost spat at you, roughly catching you by the waist and pulling you off the stool. His fingers buried into your skin and you found it difficult to slip out of his vice-grip-like hands.

A hand laid flat on his shoulder from behind as he grunted to being interrupted. He turned to meet Cassian fist straight into his glass jaw sending him cold to the floor. You found yourself gasping, no one else reacting in the busy bar used to Illyrian antics. 

“Cassian!”

“Come on, we’re going” he caught your wrist and pulled you from the bar, stepping over the creep's body as you were pulled along. You hurriedly slipped on your jacket, the freezing breeze of the night burning your skin as you were pulled into the baltic night.

“Cass, slow down, you're going to take my arm out of the socket” you groaned at the slight pain he was causing you as you found it difficult to keep up with his rapid pace back down the service lane. 

“Such a fucking asshole”

“I was handling it Cass!”

“Oh yeah YN, really looked like that” you huffed at his sarcasm, anger growing in both of you the further you got from the bar. 

“Get off my case fucking hell”

“He could have run off with you”

“So?! What does it even matter to you?! Seriously Cass, slow down, you're not racing a Naga!”

“It does matter to me! I don’t want some ancient creep all over you” Cassian continued his marching in front of you, your wrist firmly caught. 

“You're the same when any male talks to me! You’re worse than Rhys!” You were sick of it, sick of being treated like some wounded bird they needed to protect, the thought caused the anger to grow in Cassian.

“THAT'S BECAUSE I DON'T WANT ANY MALE TALKING TO YOU LIKE THAT!”

“WHY!? WHY THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER YOU!” Cassian suddenly dug his heels into the snow causing you to crash into the back of him giving you a bit of a fright. Cassian span around, releasing your wrist in exchange for your hips, your hands instinctively draping across his shoulders as he pulls you forward in the falling snow to meet your lips hungrily. The cold was leached from your bodies as you basked in the glow of one another. 

“Cass you just kissed me”

“I just kissed you” You both had shock painting your faces before locking eyes and reconnecting hungrily again. 

“If anyone touches you like that again I’ll kill them” You nodded quickly to his protective stern words, kissing him deeply again. 

“Ahem” Azriel’s voice separated you both as he stood with hands on his hips glaring at the two of you, clearly having just been out for his own run along the service lane. 

“Az-” He only raised a gloved hand to you. 

“I don’t want to know any of the goings on between you two, ever, it will make me an accessory to a murder when Rhysand finds out” You both nodded slowly in reply before Azriel dragged a hand down his face. 

“Now, the three of us are going to walk home and the three of us will never speak about this again” Azriel continued, gesturing with his arm for you to walk ahead. You looked from Cassian to the Shadowsinger who only raised an eyebrow, you sighed before following his direction and walking ahead of the two. 

“You’re a dead man Cass” Azriel whispered once you were out of earshot.

“I know” “What is with you and their family, next thing you’ll be sleeping with Rhysand’s mother” “How do you know that didn’t already happen” Cassian was fighting for his life to bring back an air of silliness to the night and Azriel happily obliged, shoving his smirking brother across the path. 

“This is different Az” he rejoined his side quickly. 

“I know, it’s always been different between you two, doesn’t mean your funeral will be any less of a sure thing” The Shadowsinger smirked.

—-----------------------

The next couple of weeks became like a full-time job for Azriel and he wasn’t sure exactly when he had interviewed for the job. He spent a large amount of his free time running interference for you and Cassian, distracting Rhysand to allow you both to steal away moments together. It was beginning to exhaust him not to mention sicken him that he spent so much time focusing on Cassian’s love life that he forgot his own. 

The four of you sat around the corner table of the very tavern that three months previously you had been pursued. Azriel sat next to Rhysand as if by chance but very much planned so that you and Cassian may sit next to each other. 

“So anyways we’ve been sleeping together for some time now but I think it’s time to cut her loose-” Rhysand beamed at the telling of his conquests while you fought the urge to roll your eyes at your brother's hypocrisy “-What about you Cass? Any lovely ladies on the go?” Rhysand innocently questioned before taking a deep drink.

“Ehh yeah I suppose you could say that” Your chin sank to your chest, attempting to bury the wide grin on your face. 

“Well go on, tell us about her” Rhysand pried, Azriel’s eyes trying to find anywhere else to look at other than the red on Cassian’s cheeks” “I don’t think-” “-Oh come on Cass, since when have you been coy about your conquests?”

“Cauldron boil me” Azriel whispered under his breath, your foot sharply meeting his shin.

“I just think I should keep that private” Cassian spoke over Azriels audible pain. “From me? I heard you tell Azriel that you never wanted to leave the bed with this mystery female, so how come I’m not privy to the information?” You took a deep swig at your brother's playful prying, wishing the ground to swallow you up.

“I just don’t think you’d want to hear about-” “-I clearly do, tell me, tell me about this so-called best sex you’ve ever had, how you make her c-” “-For all that is good and Gods given Rhysand please do not finish that sentence!” Azriel cut across quickly as you inhaled your drink, choking slightly. Cassian rapidly tapped your back as Azriel and Rhysand began to bicker. 

“Are you okay?” Cassian whispered to you, searching your greying face for colour as it flushed back to your cheeks. He took your hand softly under the table, his thumb sending soothing circles across your skin. You looked up to Cassian with your glassy eyes, a small smile growing on your face at the look of adoration you received. The two of you looked quickly then to the silence that leaked from the other side of the table. Rhysand looked between the two of you, his own face now looking like he had been the one starved of air. Azriel covered his eyes with a hand, trying to think of any way to come back from this and what was about to happen. The table fell to an almost unnerving silence as Rhysand processed in real time before an equally unnerving laugh left him. 

“Oh no no no no” he shook his head while laughing, you glancing worriedly to Cassian at your brother's seemingly newfound deliria. 

“Rhysand…” You tried but your brother just kept shaking his head while laughing. 

“Oh no no no no” His laugh only got louder, Azriel daring to look at the Son of Night from behind his hand. 

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start” Azriel whispered across the table to Cassian who looked bewildered at the reaction. Rhysand rolled up his sleeves, his laughing continuing as he took a deep drink from his tall glass. 

“Maybe 10 seconds” Azriel added, Cassian needing no further invitation to bolt away. He made it as far as the edge of the village before Rhysand came in hot from behind him, you and Azriel trailing desperately. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Rhysand bellowed, tackling Cassian to the ground as they rolled in the slush of the last snow of Winter. 

“Rhys stop!” You went to separate them, Azriel pulling you back to his side. 

“Just, just leave them go YNN” he sighed, knowing this was years in the making. The two warriors rolled, Rhysand attempting to deliver blows that Cassian blocked. 

“Rhys-I’m-sorry!” Cassian managed through dodges. 

“My sister!” 

“Yes! Your sister! But my love! I love her!” Cassian rasped out, Rhysand’s hand finding his brother's throat as he gained the upper hand from above him. Rhysand released an ounce of pressure he had on the Illyrian before shooting a glance at you, a clear look of horror on your face. Rhysand allowed all the air from his lungs go before standing again, Cassian attempted to stand, only to meet the floor again with a shove from the future High Lord. He stayed down, thinking that was the best port of call.

“YN, really?” “Really” You found your own confidence, striding over the Cassian to meet his side on your knees. 

“How long?” 

“Three…almost four months” You admitted to your brother, pulling bits of moss from Cassian’s hair. 

“Four months?! And no one had any idea?” Azriel averted his eyes at Rhysand’s questioning. 

“We just wanted to see if it was serious before stressing you out Rhys” Cassain ran a sleeve over his bloodied lip. 

“And this is-this is serious? You’re not just fucking around Cassian because I swear to the Gods I will-” “-This isn’t fucking around Rhys, I love her” Cassian interrupted Rhysand’s worry. He wandered in a small circle, arms behind his back as he tilted his chin to the stars once again, taking a deep breath of the changing seasonal air. 

“Okay” Rhysand finally rocked his head back down to look at the two of you. 

“Just to say Rhys, I don’t care if you are okay or not with this, I love Cassian too and I don’t care if you are okay with it-” “-YN” Cassian dragged out your name like a whining child who was trying to stop the class pet from reminding the teacher about a test. 

“But, thank you” You kissed the top of Cassian’s head, his lip stitching together from the blowout.

“Oh Gods don’t do that in front of me!” Rhysand looked to the sky, the two of you laughing up at him. 

“Oh please Rhys, that’s nothing, these two would make you sick” Azriel laughed before the smile completely fell from his face. 

“You knew?” Rhysand glared towards the Shadowsinger.

“I ehh-” “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start my friend” Cassian laughed up from the slush-turned mud. Azriel gave a panicked laugh before meeting Rhysand’s serious eyes. 

“He’s the one doing your sister!” “Az! Traitor” You chuckled, Rhysand still not removing his eyes from Azriel until he shot off into the woods, Rhysand hot on his heels. You helped Cassian to stand again before walking hand in hand in the direction of home, happy to have that weight off your chests and happier to hold one another's weight in your arms. 

--------------------------------------------

[motianz]

Ok, listen, LISTEN

He Tian is a really complex character. He's been trying to escape the darkness that his family is involved in his whole life. But at the same time, he very clearly thinks he inherently has that "evilness" inside of him. (it's the simbolysim behind his "fear of the dark" and the reason he lists Mo not being afraid of the dark as one of the reasons he (ht) likes him)

And then, THEN, Mo guan shan shows up, and not only he sees that darkness and doesn't back down in front of it, but he also starts to care for Ht despite it being there.

So the thing that starts growing inside He Tian is the fear that this one person, this one boy who doesn't pull him deeper into the darkness (like his family (sorry He cheng i love you ) bringing him into the business) and KNOWS him as more then just that, will forget him.

That this side of him, that can be good and loved without ties of debt, will disappear alongside Mo's memory.

Then She Li shows up. He tian sees with his own eyes that he cannot protect his loved one without that darkness, and above all he can't freely protect him if that darkness isn't entirely his. This time when She Li attacked Mo he had to bargain for power with his brother to take SL down, so he faces the fact that he needs power and influence to keep Mo safe.

So there comes the sacrifice, he'll go away if he can save Mo. And while away, he'll conquer whatever he needs to make sure Mo never struggles again, so he will never need to leave again.

BUT here's the thing. Mo doesn't know all that, he only knows what HT has told him, Mo knows He Tian only ever expressed fear when 1 - Mo was in danger, 2 - When faced with the idea of being forgotten.

And after months of being loved, reassured, and having HT promise to give him the future of his dreams, months of letting He Tian in, he just disappears one day.

And suddenly Mo is in the position of being "left behind", forgotten.

So when HT comes back, this smug fucker who hurt him that bad, acting like nothing ever happened, Mo wants to pretend it doesn't matter. That he wasn't "the dumbass who got left behind", that it never hurt enough to still matter, years later.

And he also wants it to hurt He Tian back. So he says this.

He says it knowing it will hurt. If he could be left behind by Ht, he wanted he tian to be hurt by the fact that Mo could also forget him. And it does hurt, you can see it in HT's face, in the fact he has to turn it away.

But Mo does care for He Tian, we all know this. So as soon as he sees the result, Ht's hurt expression, the words "you're so cruel", as soon as he sees it actually hurt, he gets hurt as well. He feels the conflict that this situation would bring, the feeling of resenting someone you love, or/and hurting someone you love.

And finally, He tian can't stand it, he can't leave, can't let himself be forgotten by this precious person. So he goes back, he insists on "if you don't remember me ill stay until you do". It's a desperate need, a deep fear.

OX has always told their story in very subtle ways, the plot is always very spread out, and you have to pay attention to the words and details they put in the story. It's as frustrating as it is fun to read it lol, he tian going back and seeing Mo naked is a fun joke, but I do also think it's something that keeps his characterization and does somewhat progress the plot.

TLDR: Mo pushed ht away because he wanted to hurt him for leaving (and he knew how to really hurt him), but also got hurt/felt guilty for hurting someone he loves. Ht came back during the shower because he's scared to let Mo forget about him.

[star2fishmeg]

ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ | sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary | six years later Quinn and y/n find themselves back in the place it started and old memories truly are precious...but so are new ones Authors Note | enjoy the (long) blurb @thehugheslover, sorry it took so long! This is only going to make sense if you read Feel This Way!!

The familiar clink of pool balls hitting each other, music at a moderate volume but mainly muffled by laughter and chatting and the back doors wide, opening the basement onto the patio where meat roasted on the barbeque under the balmy sun. Everything had stayed. The world was almost the same as they were back as teenagers but this time, they weren’t as naive, and everyone had grown up. Really grown up, into adults with jobs and lives, new ambitions and what happened six years ago were nothing but fond memories protected by the walls of the lake house. 

Y/n and Quinn sat on the sofa, turned slightly to face each other so they could look out into the rest of the room, her finger gently brushing over the stain between them. The second her skin touched the fabric, it all came flooding back like film tapes, the night Brady stayed over in particular. 

“We were so stupid, but it was a lot of fun,” she began with a chuckle, Quinn turning his head in interest, watching her trace around the splotch, “The Vodka Incident, when Brady brought that vodka, and we all thought it was fucking amazing.”

Cole’s voice groaned out from the distance, followed by Trevor and Jack’s obnoxious laughing, clearly relishing in Cole losing their game of pool. The couple giggled, glancing over at the group, their memories fading in and suddenly they were bought back to that night, and they were sixteen with three fifteen-year-olds and little Luke sat in a circle. The way Cole’s face had screwed up hideously, Jack and Trevor’s attempts to be ‘cool’ but landed them both in the bathroom and gagging and Luke tucked into her side most the night. 

“Yeah, Luke used to cling to you all the time, he was literally your shadow,” he said, watching Luke take a cocky bow after a successful turn, “and Brady, oh my God, you two used to torture me, like, come on, ‘who do you currently have a crush on?’ while you were sitting on my lap? You two killed me.”

Y/n laughed fondly, watching Brady enter the basement waving tongs like a magic wand, passionately interrupting the guys by fact checking them about something too muffled to make out from where she was sat. She then remembered the argument she and Brady fell into that everyone retold as if they’d thrown fists at each other, “Honestly, I thought you’d be jealous that I’m close with Brady too, but I was so wrong.”

“How about we not bring up my teenage insecurity, I felt so lame,” he smiled, hand taking hers and interlacing their fingers. He remembered that part too well, Jack and Luke loved to bring it up with him because for them, it was peak comedy and a learning curve on what not to do. Watching it happen was not as funny, but Quinn was their older brother, so how could it not be funny? “You don’t even understand, y/n, I got a scolding, from Jack.”

“Well, I was also lame so we’re even. Luke told my brother about the whole thing and that fucker did not let me live it down.” She grinned and placed a kiss on his nose, “You know what he said? ‘Yeah, everyone knew Quinnifer was, like, in love with you’ the little loser.” 

He groaned playfully at the nickname, even after all the years her brother still called him that. He really couldn’t escape that one, he’d somehow obtained it during college, y/n’s brother just started calling him Quinnifer out of the blue and his only explanation being that the women love it and it’s catchy, but it was better than other thing’s he’d been called.

Looking back over at the group, their friends that’d grown up with them, but whose personalities hadn’t changed, they wondered what it’d be like if they were sixteen again, and what they’d do differently. But they weren’t sixteen anymore and all the angst had been and gone, that chapter closed. Quinn was captain of the Vancouver Canucks and y/n was flying in her own career, and while they’d achieved so much by twenty-five, Quinn still had a list he wanted before he could feel satisfied.

Moonlight shimmering over the ripples of the lake, warm lanterns illuminating along the dock just like it always had. Y/n and Quinn’s bare feet padded along the wood leisurely, hands encased in each other’s and not a word spoken between them, they just needed a bit of peace away from everyone, even just for a moment. Passing the boats harboured up, Mila came to mind. Not in any other way than what happened that day and how he felt y/n’s desperate, burning glares from the other side of the boat, how he wished it was y/n breasts pressed against his shoulders and not some random girl’s. 

“I should’ve just told you how I felt from the start,” Quinn mumbled, but his voice clear from the serenity of the dock, nothing but crickets singing and distant chatter, “Like, we wouldn’t have had to go through that confusing, are-we-are-we-not phase. I can’t believe I was such a pussy.” 

Y/n giggled, swinging their arms, “Don’t blame yourself, I was also responsible. I told most the story to some friends in college, and even they thought it was obvious we liked each other. I sort of wish we hadn’t had that situationship, like, we were just hurting ourselves.”

“Yeah, no, I agree. Had me crying myself to sleep, it was fucking stupid.” 

“I know, Jack told me the night of the Vodka Incident, he saw you crying when we were going to sleep.” She didn’t need Jack to tell her Quinn cried that night, she felt his tears on her skin and the way he’d squeezed her like she would evaporate, his favourite teddy bear. She just never said anything, no need to bring up the painful past when they were living in their own paradise in the future. 

The more time she spent in the lake house, the more the memories swirled in her mind, not dwelling just remembering the times she couldn’t during the hockey season. The lake was a sanctuary, a museum of youth that held so many minor details you’d never see unless you were searching for them, like the names etched into the decking, aged but still prominent.

Quinn glanced down, barely reading the names scratched into the wood until he walked over something he distinctively remembered scratching with Brady, right before they were off to college; Q + y/n in a heart. He stopped right above it, tugging y/n back to face him, sweat forming on the back of his neck with butterflies in his stomach. Y/n blinked twice at him before raising a brow. He pulled his hand away, wiping both on his shorts before taking a deep breath.

“Uh, hey, listen…” his eyes shifted to her ‘Q’ necklace, to her eyes and then back to the etching on the floorboards before her necklace again.

“Q?” she asked, head flooding with multiple scenarios, piecing together location and their ages, his sweating, the fizzling in her chest and down to her stomach, “Oh God, you’re not getting traded, are you?”

His eyes widened, “Huh? No, no, Jesus no. It’s uh…well…um, just wanted to tell you how much I love you and appreciate you. You’ve, um, been by my side forever and I’ve been, uh, thinking about the future…”

He dropped to one knee, sliding a little, velvet box from his pocket and held it out in front of her, eyes sparkling under all the little lamps but more importantly because when he looked at her, he saw the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. The most caring, supportive, girlfriend. His best friend who, no matter what, never gave up on him. He gazed at her with dilated pupils that may have well been hearts. Y/n’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she gasped gently, hands covering her mouth, and she struggled to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.

“Y/n L/n, I have loved you since we were fifteen and only you can make me feel this way. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, in sickness and in health. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Quinn’s voice shook, not a filler word tumbling out for once. All those days rehearsing his speech in the mirror paid off, all that stress lifting off his shoulders and she watched his hands tremble.

Y/n nodded desperately, tears spilling down her cheeks, “Yes, of course!” 

He grinned from ear to ear, corners of his eyes creasing as his eyes watered, wiggling the ring - polished with her birthstone - from the cushioning and sliding it onto her finger, his arms wrapping around her waist firmly. He held her close into his chest, spinning her around with his face buried in her shoulder, his heart swelling. When they rounded back to their original spot, they melted into each other’s bodies as they always had, t-shirts soaking up the salty tears of joy, the realisation of how far they’d come hitting them like bricks. Y/n and Quinn Hughes, forever and always. Their new chapter, with new adventures and the start of their own little family one day.

small worlds | @bunbunbl0gs

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[kissitbttr]

how would miguel react to paparazzi harassing y/n? especially when she’s preggo🫢

“did you just fucking shove my girl, pendejo?!”

the world were so lucky to see miguel o’hara not losing his shit, everything was so calm and people enjoyed seeing him smile and be goofy. he was a beast in the field but a gentleman off the field. especially with muñeca. he’s not afraid to showcase public affection during the games and out on the street.

and we all know how protective this man can be with the woman that he loves. even more when the couple are blessed with a little bundle of joy that’s growing in her stomach. miguel is definitely more protective and a bit aggressive about it.

how could he not? especially when his pregnant fiancé was shoved hard by some cunt with a camera that she let out a small painful grunt,

oh miguel is fucking seeing red,

and the sight of it makes her feel terrified . not because of how scary he looks, but the image that he has spent years of building would be torn apart just like that if this went on the news. she doesn’t want that.

muñeca holds her bump with her hand while the other reach out to him,

“miggy, it’s okay—i’m okay”

he shakes his head, glancing at her briefly. “no, no baby—this fucker pushed you, I can’t let that shit pass” he puts his arm over your belly as if to shield the two most important people in his life before he glares back at the scared paparazzi,

“just what the hell do you think you are eh, cabrón?! do you want me to run you over with my fucking car for the world to see?!” he roars, and all of the sudden the camera lights and clicks are off. everything goes silent.

oh they should’ve known not to mess with miguel o’hara,

“i-it was an accident! i s-swear! i’m sorry i—“

miguel grunts, taking a large step towards the trembling man. “my wife, is fucking pregnant. and even if she wasn’t, you don’t shove her as if she’s nothing! all for a fucking picture, why don’t you get a better job eh?!”

hearing him the word ‘wife’ makes her heart melt, and they aren’t even official yet,

“no toques a mi esposa, you hear?” he points a finger at the photographer. eyes laser focus into the man’s brown ones. “because i don’t mind facing charges if it means protecting my wife and baby”

with that miguel steps back and put his arm protectively around muñeca. and just like that, the crowd suddenly breaks away. not one of them dare to be in two feet away from miguel o’hara.

“come on, baby” his harsh tone then dissolves into softer one the moment he speaks to her, the lovesick gaze returning when his eyes fall upon his beautiful woman. “you alright?”

she nods, looking up to him with a gentle smile as he pulls her closer to his side. “thank you, miggy”

“no need to thank me, mi amor—“ he kisses the top of her head.

“you know i’ll do anything for the both of you”

—

don’t u guys miss these two?