#when he started singing I lost my shit

[too0bsessedformyowngood]

Grover is fighting tooth and nail out here to keep everyone together, he needs a break

[c0rpsedemon]

ok fr last one but there's actually a bootleg of my school's anastasia and i'm linking it bc you all NEED to understand that my infatuation with this one girl's voice which started when i was in the 6th grade and still hasn't really worn off isn't based on nothing

[mars-ipan]

why is will wood so good at writing music

[hoshigray]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫! | fushiguro tōji

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Not only are you drunk on a Friday night, but you’re a drunk, closeted succubus who is, unfortunately, under the care of the hot neighbor under your roof! Would you ruin the mood if he found out about your little secret? You don’t even wanna know!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! succubus reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! reader + Toji are neighbors - age difference; reader is in late-20s + Toji is mid/late 40s - crushing/mutual pining - drug/alcohol usage - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping) - Daddy kink - sqǔitïng - anal play (m! receiving) - 69 + backshots + spooning + cowgirl positions - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - creampies - praise kink - pet names (baby, doll, dollface, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie) - implied marathon sex - mention of drool/spit, tears, and cum - not proofread; will do l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.8k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pulled this story out of my ass; I literally spent a whole single DAY dedicating to writing it. please enjoy, and tysm for 11.9k loveliesss ☆ love and appreciate u all !!

“…shit.”

There’s no way.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit—”

Of all days for this to happen.

“Oh, my fucking God, not tonight!!”

Tonight was already an eventful night, with the full moon shining brighter than the stars. Life has put you so fast in a whirlwind that you can’t recall the last time you permitted your body to unwind. Can you blame yourself, though? From moving to a new neighborhood and scoring a new job, things have kept you undeniably busy for the past few months. And not too mention,  it’s your fault for being a bit of a hermit and lacking a drive for social interaction. 

That’s precisely why your old college besties – Shoko, Utahime, and Yuki – pulled you out of your hideyhole and encouraged you to join them this Friday night to have some fun! “C’mo~n, lighten up! No more thinking about work or whatever; have some fun!” “Yeah, y’know you’re my biggest drinking buddy. Now, hurry up and share this cocktail with me!” The ladies pressure you to relax and enjoy the start of the weekend with some good drinks and delicious food. And, you hate to admit, it worked like a charm – the longer the hours went, the more you felt free as if all the weight holding you down had been lifted.

The only problem is, like all good things, that it had to end and that you had to go home. Now check this out: 1) you left your car at home because, again, you were rigorously dragged out of your abode by your college companions. 2) You were all pretty much drunk, enough for neither one of you to drive on the road. And 3) you guys are in the city, and catching a lift is not only a gamble but SUPER expensive! Guess that’s what you get for choosing a Friday night to free-ball.

However, when hope was lost, and you wouldn’t be in the comfort of your bed tonight, you received a text on your phone, and you could practically hear the angels sing in the heavens above!

Recent Message from: Neighbor Fushiguro

Yo. You home? I’m out in the city picking up stuff for the house. Need anything?

Thank God for neighbors, am I right? The chances of someone you know being within the same vicinity of you may be low, but never zero! Did you feel bad that you texted back saying you needed a ride back to your house? Sure. Did you feel extra bad when you asked a huge favor for him to drop your friends off at the nearest hotel? …Yeah. 

But luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. The only thing you had to endure was him teasing you about your little outing (with the help of your friends in the back of his truck) and your tipsy persona. “Never took you fr’ one who drinks.” He scoffs while putting you down on your couch after slinging you over his shoulder because you complained about your feet hurting. Damn heels! “Neither one who gets drunk.”

“It wasn’t my fauuu~lt,” you whine with a significant stretch while your neighbor roams around. “My fwiends, they forced me to–hic–to do it…”

“Mm, do your ‘fwiends’ always push you over to do things?” He shouts from the kitchen; you can hear cabinets opening and closing. 

“When you’re the youngest of the group, they do.”

“Well, maybe I gotta get to know ‘em so they can push you into goin’ out more. And maybe you can quit avoidin’ me when I invite you over.”

“I don’t try to avoid you!” You sprout defensively. “And quit teasing me, Toji! You’re supposed’ta be on my side; I’m the victim here.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya say.” Heavy footsteps draw nearer to where you are, and your heavy eyelids open to see a hand stretching towards you with a glass of water. “I’m here takin’ care of ya now, aren’t I, lil’ victim?”

A smile pulls your lips as you take the glass. “Thank you,” you express before a sip, and your neighbor lifts your feet to sit on the cushion beside you. 

“Y’re welcome,” he places your legs on his lap, grabbing the remote to turn on the television. 

You haven’t been in this neighborhood long enough to say you have friends. Don’t get it wrong; everyone you contacted has been lovely and friendly, and some have opted to help with your move! But aside from the casual greetings in the morning or the nods of acknowledgment, you barely know people who scratch the surface of acquaintanceship. Not to mention, it’s your fault for being a bit of a hermit. 

…But, there is one neighbor you could say you’re pretty close with. Someone nice. Someone dependable…Someone attractive that you’re on a mission not to stare too much.

Toji Fushiguro lives two houses down from you across the street. Remember I mentioned you had people assist with your move? This widowed, middle-aged man was one of the nice handymen who aided you and your friends with your boxes and heavy furniture. You remember it like yesterday, seeing this brawny man stroll up your driveway on the sunniest day of June. You nearly mistook him for an Olympic athlete. 

“So, y’re the one movin’ ‘round here?” The calm baritone of his voice was unforced. “Nice to know there’s a cute face on the newbie. Need any help?” It’s how he asked – so sultry and alluring you almost spaced out before nodding absentmindedly to his request for aid, hoping he didn’t notice you watch how the scar of his lip moved as he spoke. “Welcome to the neighb’rhood, kid.” Rarely do you have butterflies running amok in the pits of your guts, but they were challenging to deal with that day. 

And it doesn’t get any better from that day forward. No matter how hard you wished not to run into this immediate crush of yours, he would somehow wheedle his way into your path. It started slow, exchanging hellos or good mornings whenever he left for work or you took the garbage out. Then came the “Want me to do y’r lawn fr’ ya?” or the “House down the street’s havin’ a little barbecue, wanna get to know people?” You thought moving away from the busy city life would die things down. However, Toji making your head race every chance he gets wasn’t a move you could envisage. Think about how you felt the day he asked for your number to keep in contact “fr’ emergencies…or if ya need anythin’, shoot me a call,” how your heart jumped to your throat! Oh, the girls never stopped teasing you when you told…

Nonetheless, you can’t deny how much help he’s been. Well, outside of that, just being a great neighbor all around. Besides being an absolute succor, he’s an outlet you can come to for anything. Whether for the house, the community, or just personal conversations, Toji’s someone you can admitlingly say you’d depend on. With trust built from day one, sharing pieces of yourselves to break down barriers, it’s safe to say that he is undoubtedly a friend who made your decision to move a worthy risk.

…Yet, what’s even more risky is being alone with him, something you do everything you can to avoid. Why? Look at him! Would you trust yourself to be anywhere with this man alone? Of course not! This is why tonight is the riskiest night you’ve ever bestowed upon your drunk self.

“You got somthin’ to say?”

“Huh?” You perk to reality, anxiousness filling you once you realize you had been staring at the man. “N-No, I’m sorry.”

He stifles a snort, grabbing your feet to massage them from the pain. “Oh, wanna act quiet. You were all bubbly in the passenger seat with y’re friends. Now y’re all shy because y’re stuck with me, huh?”

“T-That’s not true!” A lie; he was right on the mark. Your heart has been beating nonstop once he sat next to you. “It’s just that…I’m sorry for making you drive and pick me and the girls up.”

“Nah, don’t apologize,” his focus is on your feet as he kneads and rubs the sole of your foot. “Told ya I was around the area doing some shoppin’, so pickin’ ya up on my way back was easy.”

You take another sip of your water. “Shopping?” 

“Mm, my kids are down here for the weekend, so I had to go out fr’ a bit and grab shit fr’ my daughter.” Ah, yes, Toji is a father; you remember him telling you about his two children in college, a junior and a sophomore. “They’re at the house right now; saw ‘em after I dropped stuff at the house before bringin’ ya home.” 

You hum. “Sorry for stealin’ you from them for a bit.”

He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. “Please, they probably don’t even know I’m gone. They’re big kids. Plus,” your breath hitches when emerald eyes trail to you. “Now I get to finally have you all to myself, no curvin’ me and whatever this time.” 

“I’m not tryin’ to curve…”

“Yeah, yeah.” He goes back to massaging your feet.

“…Thanks again, Toji. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, sweetheart.” Your abdomen flexes at the use of the nickname. “You know I always got you…Say, did you hit y’r head somewhere?”

You blink, eyebrows furrow. “No? Why?”

He points to his temple. “Because I see like a lump right here.”

You mirror his movements, your hand touching the spot he’s pointing. And your fingertips meet with a lump on a location that sparks too much familiarity. You gasp aloud and cover the lump with your hand, the other covering your other temple. 

Oh, no.

Black eyebrows knit together. “You okay?”

Play it cool! “Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine! You’re right; I probably hit my head somewhere while out.” You take this time to remove your legs off the comfort of Toji’s lap and stand up from the couch. “I’ll put something on it to stop the swelling.” You can also sense something aching down your lower back at that moment. Oh, hell no!!

“Ya sure? Need me fr’ any—“ 

BZZZZ!! BZZZZ!!

Toji’s cut off from the vibration of his phone in his jeans, pulling the device out to see that someone called “Megumi” was calling. Good, a distraction!

“N–No, no, I’m good from here.” You say through gritted teeth, the alcohol taking effect and making your stance a little buzzy to uphold. “J-Just stay here, I’ll be back!” You don’t even wait for his approval, turning on your heel and heading out of the living room to the stairs. Your body feels wobbly with every step you take, but you don’t pay it any mind because you can feel the lumps beneath your palms increasing. “God, please, not now, not today…!”

You march as fast as you can to your bedroom, nearly stumbling on the floor as you haul ass to your bathroom door. You do a terrible job watching your footing fall after rushing to turn the lights on, and stuff from the counter falls because of the impact. But you didn’t care, shuffling up so you could look at the mirror. And the sight you see fills you with immediate dread.

Horns are the first thing you see from either side of your head; the tips curl as if to form a crown but point to the ceiling. Your eyes are no longer human-like, pupils shaped like slits as if morphing into a reptile. And your ears get horizontally pointier.  “…shit.”

You then lift your skirt and tear a hole in your pantyhose above the hem of your panties, and your fear quadruples at the sight of something long and slithery protruding out of the hole. A long tail with a pointy end; you lose your mind. “Shit, shit, shit, shit—”

It’s then you realize why this is happening: you had forgotten to take your daily supplements that are meant to subjugate these features of yourself. You’ve been taking them for the longest time before you moved into this neighborhood, so you’re used to your typical human facade. Now, seeing these parts of yourselves is the very LAST thing you need right now! 

And then something hits you, an unsettling feeling that you’re too scared to confirm. Your eyes travel down to your shirt, your hands hesitantly pulling the bottom tucked into your skirt and lifting to reveal your navel. You then tug the top of your skirt to expose a spot you’re honed in on the mirror. And the urge to scream grows tenfold once you see a black marking on the lower part of your belly. 

A womb tattoo!?!? 

“Oh, my fucking God, not tonight!!”

“YO, HEY!” And just when it couldn’t get worse, you hear Toji coming up the stairs and beelining for your open bedroom door. Wait, no— “I heard screamin’ and a big ‘boom,’ you alright? Where are y—“

Your neighbor stops dead in his tracks once he appears in front of the bathroom opening; his concerned expression shifts to an immediate neutral deadpan. He stares at you, and you stare back at him, the silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. A ring fills your eardrums, dissociating from this entire scene and all its complications.

You want to cry. Maybe scream, throw up, or just straight up die on the spot. 

Because this wasn’t the night for someone to find out you’re a succubus.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…”

“…”

“…So, what are you?” 

Not even concealing your face in your pillow can hide you from the eventual questions of Toji, who sits idly on the corner of your bed. You cringe internally, never thinking this dilemma would befall you. The point of moving was to turn a new page in your life and leave the past behind with the city. Now, you are shriveling on top of your bed like a moody teenager, and your neighborhood crush is here to witness your depression.

“…What happened to your phone call?”

“It was my kid. I told him to lock the door since I’ll be out a little longer. Don’t try and deflect,” his blunt answer has you descend further to your inner turmoil. “How come I never seen these horns before?”

You sigh heavily; there’s no point in trying to divert now. “…I take supplements that hinder any features of my succubus appearance so I can look like an average human for the rest of the day.”

“Daily?” He sees you nod through his peripheral. “Succubus…the hell’s that?”

“Basically, I’m a demon that…that…” Yeah, no, let’s not finish that. “Never mind.”

“Bullshit. Tell me.” 

“D-Don’t worry about it, it’s not—“

“Look here,” he speaks to you with a stern tone, a hand coming to your waist to shove you a bit. “I went ahead and picked y’re drunk butt up, made sure ya don’t puke up a storm, and now y’re here looking way different from before. The least you could do is explain.”

God, to be lectured by a human – totally humiliating…! “…I’m a demon that gets energy from…se–….sexu, uhh………..sexualactivitywithhumanbeings.”

The silence that trails after your ramble is beyond awkward. 

“Oh.”

…

“Oh.”

God, just kill me right now!

The older man forces a cough. “So, you…have sex every day?” You can practically sense the tiny hint of discomfort from prompting that question.

“W-Well, I used to when I was younger. But I haven’t really…done it in a couple of years.” Jesus Christ, why is it so embarrassing to admit to someone other than yourself? This is the literal worst! 

“Is that bad?”

“It’s, uhh…It can be?” 

“So, why haven’t you done it?”

“Because…!” You snap your face out of your pillow and finally allow yourself to breathe correctly. “I just…I don’t have time like I used to anymore, and using my powers to make people forget afterward can get tiring. Also, the more times I do it, the more my drive gets intense from the last. The desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since it’s been a while since I’ve let my powers out, I’m sure it’s nastier than ever…”

“…Well,” Toji turns to face you. “Have you ever had the urge recently?”

“I-” Woah. That question came out of nowhere, almost answering it without proper consideration. “Wh–What do you mean by that…”

He shrugs. “Like—you know what I mean—like, even though you try to suppress it, do you still have those urges to do…ya know, it?”

Things get a little uncomfortable here; now you wish you kept your face in that pillow. Tojo’s gaze on you is distinguished — gentle yet stern, matching his demeanor. He's calm and calculating and is waiting for your response to his strangely personal question. 

“I…I, I don’t know.” It was another lie.

“Why’re you lyin’?”

“I’m not…!” Toji clicked his teeth with a face.

“Fine, answer me this then. Have ya ever thought of doin’ it since ya moved here?” 

Yup, this question was far worse than the other. His words echo inside your noggin, bewildered with every syllable relaying. And the widowed man lifts his brow from the lack of an instantaneous answer. You open your mouth, but words fail to aid you, your tail shying away behind your shadow. “I-I…I don’t—“

“Ever thought of me?”

“Toji!” You shout defensively. Sure, it might’ve been out of line to ask. However, it’s the fact that he’s breaking your exterior with every question — because of how on-the-mark he is. You could never prepare yourself for that inquiry, the heat on your face growing more unbearable. How could he know of the frenzy he puts you through just for existing? 

“I’m not dumb.” You peep Toji, turning his torso and facing his entire front in your direction. “You think I don’t notice how often you try to push me off when I invite ya over or know when y’re lookin’ at me when you think I’m not aware’?” He dents the bed with his added weight, and you forget to breathe, watching him inch closer. “Or act all shy and cute when I got you to myself?” 

You gulp, your brain short-circuiting at the feeling of Toji’s palm on your thigh. There have been countless nights where you’ve thought of your neighbor more than once, indulging in fantasies you could never speak of to a soul, especially Toji himself. To let the man know of the dirty things you’d want him to say to you, the names you wish him to call you, the erotic things you’d like him to do to you — death is the only option necessary not to let that happen. Unfortunately, he seems to have a good idea now that he’s cornered you like this, and you’re too stunned to utter a word.

“It’s okay, though,” he whispers low now that he’s close to your face, and you have to hold back on letting out a yelp when his hand comes to hold your face, his index finger toying with your sensitive earlobe. “‘Cuz I love it when y’re all timid, can’t even look me in the face…Like now.”

You try to avert away from him, but his thumb brings your chin back to him. “Toji, please,” his name feels forbidden to say all of a sudden. 

“Tell me ‘no’.” His nose brushes the tip of yours, and you chew your lip. “I’ll stop right now and leave, let you deal with this y’reself…Or,” he ghosts to your ear, and you quiver. “I’ll stay with you and treat you to what y’ve been scared to ask fr’.”

“Toji, wait,” Fuck, you can’t remember the last time you had your ears so keen, his breath brushing it enough to compel you to meltdown.

“Say ‘no,’ princess.” You’re locked under his forest-green orbs, and you swear you could hear your heart hammering your chest. “Or I’ll treat you right tonight.”

Perplexed eyes can’t move anywhere else, and your lips are wet from licking them without knowing. Is this really happening…? An inquisition you had no time to answer for yourself once Toji closes the gap, centimeters nearer with every millisecond.

I…can’t…

His face draws near, and your eyes reflex to close. 

I don’t…want to…

Toji pulls you in for a gentle kiss; your thoughts radio silent after the contact of his scarred lips on yours. No shot. Your neighbor was kissing you right now — there’s no way!? This had to be a dream…! This is truly a wild night: not only are you tipsy to the noggin, but your neighborhood crush has found out your secret, and now you’re kissing that exact crush in your room?? Your muscles go tense at what is occurring. 

He peppers your lips with kisses, forced to catch up with him as he claims your lips, a palm snaking to the back of your head to keep you steady. He licks your bottom lip, chewing gently to prompt the softest gasps out of your mouth. “C’mon, baby,” he coos to your sensitive ears. “Relax wit’ me.” You nearly melt at the lick of your helix as his free hand courses from your chest to your waist. The brush of his fingers onto your tail makes you jolt. 

“Toji, wait,” you mutter under your breath as he nibbles on your pointy ear, your hands gripping the back of his black wife beater. “D-Don’t; I’m so sensi—Nmmm…!” Jesus, the moan you held back! Toji trails his mouth to your chin down to your neck to suck on your skin. And your lower half throbs harder. “Ahhh…hahhh…”

He returns his lips to yours; this time, his tongue runs on your teeth vigorously to seek entry. You submit after a chew to your bottom lip, whimpering as the older man inserts his wet muscle to greet yours. Surreal, isn’t it, to be tongued down by your neighbor? You don’t know whether it’s the alcohol, the twitches between your inner thighs, or the flick of his tongue and the sound of his purrs that have your face getting hotter. 

And fuuuuuuck, he’s such a good kisser — scratch that, he’s an AMAZING kisser! You’re practically turning into putty in the palm of his hands as he lips you, tilting his head to a proper position with a soft push to your face as he deepens the kiss. He sucks on your tongue, and you mewl, helplessly quivering when he teases the muscle with nibbles. Your waist has a mind of its own while it sways involuntarily, rocking as you sink into the zealous kiss. He’s not overpowering you in any way; if anything, he’s so overwhelmingly comforting, his hand caressing your cheek tenderly, and soft noises of lips smacking and breaking apart bounce one after the other.

Then, you shrill unexpectedly. “…!! Mmahhh! T-Tojiii, d-don’t—don’t touch…Haahhh…”

“Oh? Well, lookie here.” Your ears perk at Toji’s chuckle. Unbeknownst to you, distracted by the intense kiss, your neighbor sneaks his hand under your skirt and touches your private zone shielded by your pantyhose, fingers pressing up on your vulva area. “All we did is kiss, and ya already got your panties wet?”

Embarrassed? Of course, it’s been so long since you were touched like this and out of practice. Now, your repressed emotions start to crumble out of their straightened form the more Toji’s middle finger rubs on your panties. And let’s not even mention your thighs motioning to ride on the digit, your dignity starting to disintegrate. “Ohhh, Toji…”

“Mmm? What is it, sweetie?” He nuzzles to your neck after licking and sucking on your chin. “Feelin’ good down there?” He curls his middle and forefinger to push. “Got ya all excited?” He receives a confirmed hum. “Tell me how y’re feelin’.”

You gulped thickly, your breathing shaking. “I-I’m feeling—shit…” he laughs lowly at your swearing. “Nnnm! You’re making me feel…so hot.”

“I can tell, you’re twitchin’ like crazy right on my fingertips.” His fingers move into a circular motion, and your mouth goes agape. “Fuck, man…Hey, hold on, I wanna do somethin’.”

Toji removes his fingers from under your skirt before you can tell, the heat between your legs going tepid as he withdraws from your figure to lay his back on the bed. But before that, he unzips and loosens his jeans to his butt. A noticeable tent of his boxer briefs has your lips locked to each other, and your eyes widen when he subtracts the material. Just when you thought this night couldn’t get any more crazier, you are awake to witness the display of Toji’s erection in real-time. 

How long has it been since you’ve seen a real-life, living, and breathing dick before your eyes? You honestly can’t recall that; the responsibilities of human life have made you grow numb to your demon necessities that it no longer feels innate. However, the sight of your crush’s solid, girthy, excited cock is marveling. How your mouth waters as you ogle at it is borderline humiliating, eyes glued to the uncut tip.

“Like what ya see?” He asks smugly, kicking his jeans and briefs off and slapping his thigh. “C’mere, mama.” Oh, fuck, the quirk of your insides was unavoidable at his comment, primarily as he guides you closer to him. “Let’s warm up.” You yelp as he effortlessly moves your legs to where you straddle him. He pushes your skirt up to your waist, and you can hear the tear from your pantyhose. His thumb comes to slide your panties to the side, and he whistles. “Damn, lookin’ all pretty and wet fr’ me.” 

It’s either the fact that Toj’s dick is inches in front of your face or your bare pussy out in the air in front of him; either one of the two has your mind going in a whirlwind. And it all comes to a standstill the moment you sense something wet and firm glide across your labia, and it takes everything in you not to tremble. “Mmm, oh, fuck,” he groans after licking your cunt, throwing in another lazy one to have you holler. “It’s been so long…Shit.”Toji’s hands curl from your legs to cup your asscheeks, keeping your butt near him to lap his tongue around your chasm. You whine as he licks you down, your teeth clattering at the sensation. 

Oh, my God, your head begins to ache. It feels so good, your body finally coming back to the groove of things as you move your butt around. The man under you quickly latches his mouth onto you, a firm grip on your ass to keep you in place for him to service you. Speaking of service, your eyes flick to the erect limb before you, your mouth salivating with the run of your tongue across your teeth. Fuck, it looks so good; you admire internally before inching your face close to the length, your head getting dizzier from the sheer size and musk. Damnit…I wanna taste him so bad…!!

“Go on, dollface,” Toji gives your butt a playful smack. “I know ya need this bad.” 

God, he’s so right — you need this; there’s no point in denying anymore. You blow on it before placing a tender kiss, noticing how it pulsates as your hand wrings around the shaft. You lick your lips before pecking at the uncircumcised tip, and Toji’s hold on you goes tighter. He’s sensitive, you note. Adorable. You stick your tongue out to swirl around the cockhead, bathing it with your saliva before you inhale it with a delighted hum, gradually warming up your loosened jaw.

Fuck, the taste of a cock — something that felt nostalgic the moment he graced your tastebuds. Your eyes water a bit, trembles rocking your figure as Toji sucks on your wetness, and every inch you intake fuels the haze that fogs your brain. You stroke and suck him simultaneously, a forgotten method that rekindles now in this moment. You coat him with your spit the more you relax your jaw, slurping him unapologetically as if a different part of yourself takes over. 

On the other hand, Toji feels the same way. It’s been way too long for the widowed man since the last time he has been intimate with someone, let alone have a bare ass right in front of him. It’s no secret that he’s had the hots for you once you moved here, but having you on top of him like this is like something out of his wet dreams. The way you murmur cutely as you suck his dick turns him on so bad, a guilty pleasure come true as he drinks your nectar off your damp naked folds. His tongue teases around the entrance of your vagina before pushing it in, fucking your opening with his wet muscle. You cry on his girth, your tail cringing in the air from the stimulation. He spots it and grabs it from the base; how your lower half jolts to the grasp is humorously darling to him. So cute.

The minutes go longer as you two keep pleasing each other, and a soft whimper escapes your lips when you release Toji from your lips, lips plastering long and sweet kisses on his shaft as you massage the tip. Your other hand palms and kneads his ballsack, the jerk of his thighs rewarding to see, so you increase the pace of your hand.

“—Thhh, nmm!” Toji curses from behind, sluggishly licking from clit to your slit while succumbing to your touch and mouth. “Shiiit, just like that, baby, suck me off like t—Mmngh! Christ, I’m gonna..fffuckin’ cum…”

But then, you remove yourself from Toji’s member, the cold air instantly blanketing him. Green eyes blink as you move off of his lying body, observing you bending over with your face to the cold sheets.

“Toji,” you plea to him desperately, hooded eyes shining eagerly. “Please, I need it…Here,” you spread your ass, fully exposing your slit wet from your fluids mixed with his saliva. Jesus, you were heathing as if you were in heat. “Do it here, I need it inside…!”

You had the man shook; the cogs in his mind stopped working briefly. The picture of you presenting yourself like this to him was unexpected, but goddamn, did it turn him on astronomically! Toji stands on his knees and advances to you, removing his tank top and discarding it to the floor. “Yeah? You want it that bad?” You nod impetuously. “Words, sweetie. Need you to tell me what to do.”

“Toji, pleeease…!” You wiggle your ass until he cusps it, kneading your flesh lovingly to the point that your tail curls around his forearm. “Please, put it in, I wanna feel it…!”

“Yeah, is that what my princess wants?” You and Toji bite your lips when he aligns his tip to your inner labia, teasing you with grinding motions. “Does my demon baby want Daddy to mess y’r insides that bad?”

Oh, we’re playing that card, too? Holy shit, you were getting so wet from this! “Yess, Daddy, pleasee! Mess me up with that dick, wanna be filled up right nooww…!”

He can’t hide the proud grin. “Good girl. Here,” Toji begins to push the cockhead to you, and your lips flatten at the wince of pain that accompanies the push. “Stay still, and lemme reward you,” his hips move slowly in your direction, you grip the sheets to prepare yourself, and your nerves are dialed to a plane of exhilaration you can’t regulate. Oh my God, is this happening? He’s gonna fuck me? So many thoughts cloud your mind, too excited and anxious for what’s to come because it’s been so. Damm. Long. How’s it gonna feel? Is your body ready enough? How does Toji feel about this; is he just as nervous as you a—

Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt halt at the sensation of Toji’s tip finally inserting itself into your vagina, too absentminded that your open mouth couldn’t say a word. Oh, fuck it’s in, it’s in! Your eyes widen, your muscles tense, and your voice struggles to cry. The older man continues to add himself leisurely, the length sundering your slit and stretching your opening as you take him inch by inch. Your back arches instinctively, wailing silently as you can feel the foreign limb intruding your tightness, quick quirks of your frame as he rubs your velvety texture. Ohhhh, my God…!!

When he slowly starts to rut into you, recurring waves of rapture hit your nerves every. Single. Time! You’re entire body is rocked to the core with every short yet gentle pound; the feeling of Toji’s veiny cock scrapping your channel has you shivering. And once he’s encouraged to push his entire member until the very hilt, you yelp aloud when the tip kisses your womb. “—Oooh??!”

“—Mmngh!” Your quick spasm surprises Toji. “Ohhh, shit, there it is. Hmm? Is this where ya want me, mama? Want me right…here?” He snaps his hips swiftly, the rushed movement and hit to your cervix knocks you winded. And another, you keep wringing his shaft acutely. “Ahhn, God fucking damn i—Iisshhffuck, fuck, I can’t, gonna…Hnghh!”

Toji’s body shudders above you, bucking into your warmth with a jittery pattern. The prolonged reaction of his orgasm claims him now, succumbing to the silky, tight texture and how well you’re grasping onto his girth. He comes inside you, moaning as he ejaculates earlier than expected. You sense it, humming to the immediate filling. So warm, so full of his cock already that your toes curl. 

And Jesus Christ, it felt so. Fucking, Good! You were no longer drunk from the alcohol; now, you were intoxicated by the prowess and pleasure of Toji’s dick. 

“Hah, haaaah, fuck,” he throws his head back with a hiss, his abdomen relaxing from the earlier flex. Then, your tail glides up from his abs, feeling up on his skin and roaming on his happy trail. He snickers at your feline-like comportment, “Heh, actin’ all cute now that you got what ya wanted, huh?” You say nothing, bashful to his words, while your tail curls up to his chin. “Don’t go quiet on me now, dollface; I heard you squeaking and moanin’ seconds ago.”

Toji then returns to rut into you despite recovering from his climax, furled to have you shrieking uncontrollably for him. The smacks of his pelvis recoil the flesh of your ass, his come stuffed inside you now glued to his erection as he rocks into you balls-deep. “Mmmm, yeah, that’s right, baby,” he grabs your tail and wraps it around his hand to pull; you scream louder, and your vaginal walls clamp tighter than ever. “Arch more fr’ me, enjoy me—nmm…!—fuckin’ you real good.”

The pull of your tail makes your senses hypersensitive, perturbed by the stress of it being pulled, yet the enjoyment you feel from it is too inexorable to comprehend. Coherent sentences double down to undecipherable babbles, “—Daahh, hoohhfuuc—D-Daddyyy, Daddyyy…!!” Tears well up in your eyes as he inflicts blows to your ass, the pain too quick to prepare for yet the sting enough to make you rigid. “—Too much, ish t’oo muuuch…!”

Another smack to your butt, and you howl once again. “Huh, ya say that, but y’re milkin’ my cock like crazy.” He bends down to remove your hands that try to hide your face and horns with the pillow. “What, ya don’t like this? Hmm? Want me to stop?” 

“No, nooo!!” You shook your head immediately; your vision blurred for a few seconds. “I loveee iit, I love this, love Daddy’s diick—Ahaaa!! More…I want moreee!” Fuck, this is bad; any more than this, and you’ll be addicted for sure.

“Good,” he whispers to your ears. Good Lord, you weren’t going to survive. “Because I ain’t done wit’ ya yet, princess.”

Before you can register his sentence fully, Toji straightens and lays on his side behind you, lifting your leg to create a suitable angle. He then plunges into you harder and faster, the different positions helping the sporadic cadence achieve deeper penetration while scraping your upper wall with ease. At this point, your body is too hot and sticky to care about anything else outside this room; your head pounding and too misty, your senses corrupted by the constant pokes to your cervix and the increasing haze that you don’t feel human anymore. Your succubus roots flourish, drool escapes your lips, and wanting nothing but this feeling to remain ceaseless.

“Gahh, ohhhDaddyyy, ahhahh,” eyes roll to your skull at the brush of your sweet spots. “Shhoo good, I fweel shoo gooood…! Harder, hardeeerr!” 

“—Khhck, goin’ as hard as I fuckin’ can!!” Toji kisses your cheek after a lick, chewing on it after hearing you mewl submissively. “Jesus, this pussy, out of this fuckin’—Nnngh…world.”

You turn to him and claim his lips, and he reciprocates into your steamy kiss. Vulgar tongues exchange spit and encroach on each other’s mouth, and you helplessly suck on Toji’s after he shoves it, your puffy lips intaking the attractive noises he makes. And you slither a hand down to your clitoris to swipe erratically while your tail goes around Toji’s waist and curves into the crevice of his ass. Suddenly, Toji stiffens at the pointy end of your tail, tickling his anus, and the raven-haired man gasps at the insertion. Too stunned to speak, he can only move his hips rapidly, his white-ringed shaft digging deep into you with the help of stimulating his prostate. 

“—Taahhh, y-you, lil’ minx…!” He breaks the kiss and bites your lip to hear you whimper. “Tryin’ ta make me cum again?”

You nod, breathing heavily. “Ohhh, Daddy, I’m so close…! Gonna come!”

“Me too, mama, me too…” 

Hot moans and groans fly out of each other’s mouths, bodies stuck to each other as you both chase for release. Everything feels so fast, so hot, happening all at once; all you can think about is the grinding presses you push up on your delicate clit. Fuck, fuck! It’s coming, it’s coming…!”

Then, it arrives. Your cunt, aching for the climax, receives the crescendo you’ve been aching for this entire time. The walls of your vulva contract around Toji’s member, milking and wringing him as you come loose to your grounding. A clear liquid exerts out of your urethra, showering out to stain your panties, torn pantyhose, and bedsheets, your breathing losing its steadiness and falling to a jagged tempo. The same goes for Toji, who falls into his peak along with you; your fluttering folds force him to submit and release his second load into you with a hiss. The older man’s heaving frame keeps bucking into you until every drop fills you to the brim, burrowing his face deep into your neck to rest as the shocks rock you both.

Finally, everything goes quiet. The cozy atmosphere pulls you out of your heightened elevation and lays you down with silent clarity. Both you and Toji, sweaty and sticky all over, are still linked to each other as the high dissipates. Shuddering figures begin to calm down and fall at ease with the tranquility.

Toji kisses your neck, and you croon until he comes to lay his lips on yours for a tender peck, then on your soft cheek and your temple. He then removes his flaccid bulge, white fluids oozing out of your hole. “Damn, that was good,” he mutters breathlessly. “Hmm, how ya feel—“

The onyx-haired man couldn’t finish his question because of the sudden change of positions you abruptly conducted. He now lays on his back with you straddling him; the calm tone switched to an unexpected spiking mood. 

You then hand grab his dick and arrange it back to your raised hips. Viridian orbs widen. Wait. The tip meets your labia once more before you descend it down. What the f—hold on— And then, his cock is swallowed back inside your wetness, and Toji grits his teeth.

 “Sh-Shit, sweetie,” Toji’s hands come to your waist. “What’s up, aren’t y—“

“Sorry, Toji,” the man surveys with confusion, watching you strip off and throw your shirt somewhere. Your naked chest is now out for him to see, and his breath hitches when you place your hands on his pectorals while a span of bat-like wings springs out from your back. “…That wasn’t enough.”

Wasn’t enough?? He repeats with furrowed brows, noticing the half-lidded, lustful expression and the sharp dents of your canines. Then, it hits him: 

“The desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since it’s been a while since I’ve let my powers out, I’m sure it’s nastier than ever…”

…Oh, shit. “Wait, we can talk about—“ You get your answer once you bounce on his cock without notice, Toji nearly choking on his tongue. Nope, no room for prattling.

“You let out so much, made my mind go so crazy,” you grind your hips on his pelvis, squeezing his limp cock while it gets firmer and firmer. “Feel so good…More, I want moreee…”

“C-C’mon now, baby, can’t we take a break for a minute at least—“You bring your face an inch away from his.

“Daddy,” your neighbor shudders at the gentle kiss you place under his chin. “Please take care of me like you promised, ‘kay?”

Your gaze lured him in, a trap he was foolish enough to fall for. Because now, he’s stuck under your bow as you begin to inflict an inescapable rhythm, rebounding on his erection until the base meets your folds. Choked groans suppressed by Toji, but take his lips with yours, enforcing a loving yet salacious spell with your satisfied moans. Now, your crush realizes you weren’t the meek, adorable neighbor he dotes on. 

Tonight, he was yours to play like a fiddle…And shame on him for getting way more turned on than he should be!

Wow. Guess I’m dyin’ tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I should be fuckin’ dead right now.

Toji knew something was up when his eyelids opened, and his emerald eyes scanned the ceiling, instantly recognizing that he wasn’t in his master bedroom. The rays of sunshine are blocked from the curtains, yet the light of day crawls in and basks the room in a low glow. Chirps of birds outside greet him on the basking of a new autumn day, lying comfortably in the cold, silky sheets of the bed.

He wakes to a bit of a headache, mentally and physically groggy. Attempts to move are already tricky and aches all over his body keep him grounded in the mattress. Ugh, feel like I’ve lost all feelin’ in my legs; the man can’t even lift one leg without a grimace. And even his arms are challenging, one so oddly heavy as if it’s nailed down. 

“Fuck, man.” His first words of the day are a curse, irritated by the drum of his head. He tries to lift himself; again, it’s not possible, agitating the man even more. And why the fuck is my arm so hea—

He doesn’t finish his sentence — the answer reveals itself once he turns his head to the left. 

He sees you, surprised to view you in your natural form still. Horns have grown a little larger, yet still small enough for you to rest your cheek on his shoulder. You were sound asleep, faint snores picked up by his ears as he examined your face at ease with a peaceful slumber. Nude, the both of you, a hand wrapped around his left arm to stick close to you while the other is stationed at his chest, your bat wings shriveled together to not get damaged. And judging by the snake-ish feeling, your tail was curled around his bare thigh. 

Strangely innocent to see after the events of last night flash into Toji’s recollection, funny to match such a lewd scenario to such a sweet face. He stifles a laugh, placing his right hand on the vulnerable one on him, his thumb caressing your knuckles as he grasps your fingers. Suddenly, some of the soreness he harbors feels light — glad I ain’t dead, I guess.

Your eyes jit behind your eyelids, a soft groan as you suddenly move and scrunch your face. Finally, your drowsy eyes sheepishly flicker open. Lidded gaze fighting the spell of sleep with every bat of your eyes.

“Mornin’, gorgeous.” Toji greets you.

“…”

“…”

In real-time, Toji watches your somnolent morph into a gradual display of mortification. He’s a little envious to see you spring up with no strain on your body, wings batting out of their relaxed state, and your hand still with his. “T-Toji??” You question directly, eyes surveying the nude neighbor in your bed, doing everything in your power to ignore the fact that you’re naked as well. Speaking of, you notice the subtle pink glow of your womb tattoo, and anxiety spikes to a high. “I–uhh–I’m so so sorry for last night! Sorry you had to bring me back home, and I didn’t mean to act weirdly on you with—Ooof?!”

“Relax,” he cuts you off by pulling you back to his lying frame, his left hand now free to snake on your shoulder. “Don’t talk so fast; my head’s poundin’ like crazy.”

You blink aimlessly, awkward now that you’re fully aware you’re in this man’s embrace. You can’t help recalling what transpired last night, suddenly feeling squeamish. “…You okay?”

“I feel like my life’s been drained by my dick,” he answers bluntly, adding more weight to your embarrassment. “Wakin’ up to a pretty face who nearly killed me with their pussy isn’t somethin’ I’d expect.” 

“……sorry.”

“It’s alright,” calloused fingers glide and intertwine with his yours, stroking your thumb with his. “Had a good time either way. Wild, but good.”

“Really…?” 

“Really.” You probably shouldn’t have peered up to see him look your direction. Albeit exhausted, his handsome face and sleepy grin ignite the heat on your cheeks. And your stomach flips, hearing a laugh when you meekly avert your gaze away. “How many times did we do it?”

“…Not sure,” long enough for my womb tattoo to be blatant. 

“Me either. Does that happen often?”

“Sometimes? I guess it’s because I haven’t done it for a long time, so I went…off the rails because of the intensity.”

“Noted, because I never felt so old until now. I probably pulled somethin’.”

“….Sorry.”

“Y’re good,” Toji scoffs before moving to place a soft kiss on your forehead, and your heart skips the tighter his hand holds your hand. “Tell ya what, I can help you with that cycle of yours, probably…twice a month, so it doesn’t get too crazy like last night. And don’t use y’re powers or some shit to make me forget, either. I don’t wan’ that.”

You lift your face from his shoulder, the heat spreading to your ears. “You don’t have to do that, Toji, I wouldn’t—“

“Nah, I’m down; it’s what neighbors for. Besides, it finally gives me a reason to make ya interact with me more.” Again, his smug smirk causes knots in your stomach. “Like the sound of that, mama? Let Daddy take care of you?”

Your lips quiver, and you hide your face back onto his shoulder. The rumble of his laughter worsens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail squeezes on his thigh. “Don’t say it like that, Toji!”

“Y’r tail seems to like it.”

“Stop it!”

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by tamayura banko + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[starry-bi-sky]

FUNNIEST fucking shit that comes with making Danny eleven years old when he had his accident in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" is the implication following, that everything that happened in the show did too. And I fully intend on (mostly) keeping it like that. There'll be some changes (of which I need to figure out) but for the most part??? Yeah relatively the same.

Like I FULLY intend on keeping Dark Danny occurring 6 months post accident. Do you know how fucking HILARIOUS that is??? That Dan got his ass kicked by a goddamn FIFTH-SIXTH GRADER?? I'd never show my face ever again. Homeboy spent the last ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, only to get his ass beat by a kid who hasn't even lost his last baby tooth. That's hysterical. I'm losing my mind just thinking about it.

AND PARIAH DARK TOO. Imagine being an eons old tyrant capable of dragging whole towns down into your dimension, and you get singehandedly shoved back into your coffin in less than 48 hours by a kid whose bedtime is still 8:30. You didn't even have the time to expand your army! You were still trying to take over the city the kid came from!

And he just!!! Shoves you back in!! Insane! This kid hasn't even been dead for a full year yet! He's still growing in his ghost fangs! And he just knocked you flat on your ass in an oversized mech suit. What the fuck! It's like looking down and seeing a four week old kitten meowing very indignantly at you and trying to bite your feet, except that kitten is also actually a black-footed cat and they have a 60% kill success rate, and oops! Now you're dead. You took too long laughing at the kitten trying to attack you that it clawed up your pant leg and ripped out your throat.

COULD I, realistically, span these episodes out over the course of 2.5 years prior to Danny's family dying?? Yes I could! Do I think it's hilarious (and horribly traumatizing, which makes it twice as fun) to shove all of this into the span of (roughly) a year instead?? Yes. Because the show has such a skewed timeline that I've always just assumed that at the end of the show, Danny was starting his sophomore year in high school. So fuck it, lets go for it!

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( tenth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , profanity , prostitution , drug and alcohol abuse , smut , allusions to hypersexuality , bisexual! toji

୨୧˚ an; okay there is seriously something wrong with my ability to tag people, certain blog names don’t come up when i search them it’s pissing me offfff SO SORRY if you’re on the tag list and you didn’t get tagged😣

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

Thunderous bangs against his apartment’s front door rouse Toji from comatose. He wakes with a sharp inhale, eyes screwing shut because the sunlight that flooded through the bars of his dusty blinds singed his retinas. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Toji believe his guest has walked off, and he cuddles back into the sofa with solid intentions of returning to dream state, however those plans go up in flames when more aggressive knocking chimes. The man groans, fingers clawing into the scrappy throw pillow his face is currently buried into. 

“Fuck off!” Toji growls. His voice is muffled and crackling with excess exhaustion. He is so not in the mood for company right now. 

“Fushiguro cut the shit, I’m not playing with you today.” Ugh, that voice. “Open the damn door, don’t make me bust it down.”

More pounding, and the rusty hinges creak from the pressure of it. Given no other choice, Toji peels himself off his crappy little couch and sits for a moment, dragging a heavy hand down his face. There’s a half empty can of Coke perched on the coffee table, amongst a plethora of other trash, and Toji snags it. It’s lost carbonation, totally flat and lukewarm, but it satiates his thirst good enough. 

The knob twists, clinking against the lock impatiently. “Untwist your panties, I’m comin’,” He barks before muttering Jesus Christ under breath. It’s no surprise to see Shiu Kong when he draws open his door, standing erect with his arms crossed in irritation. Toji scowls, “what do you want?”

Shiu knocks shoulders to his when he grants himself entrance, much to Toji’s chagrin. “So you are alive?”

“Still kickin’, yeah.”

Shiu stands in the middle of the living room, flitting over the unkempt scene. It’s a mess, littered with crushed cans and hollowed take-out boxes and dirty laundry. Heavy glass bottles lined the floor near the sofa, some filled halfway with translucent, amberish liquid, some bone dry. “I see you been busy,” the man inquired, sarcastic as all Hell. 

Toji sighs. “Yep.”

“You should crack a window or something, man. It reeks like the inside of a flask in here.”

“I’ll do that,” no he won’t, “what do you want?”

Shiu scoffs at his gall, but Toji wants him out of his place as soon as possible. He knows why his handler has come to visit, it’s most likely a work thing. Fuck work. Fuck Shiu for barging in and interrupting his afternoon nap. Fuck his apartment for being embarrassingly filthy. 

“You’ve been ducking my calls. I don’t appreciate that.”

“Y’know, most people would take that as a sign to fuck off.”

“I’m not most people, though, am I?” He takes a seat on the couch. Toji doesn’t follow suit, choosing to stay leaned against the wall. “I’m technically your superior.”

“You think that title means jack to me?”

Shiu ignores the attitude; he’s used to taking shit from Toji for the better part of a decade now. “It should.” Silence cuts in, and he leans down to pluck one of the thick bottles off the floor by its neck. Liquor sloshes around in the constraint of glass, and Shiu holds it up to the light and skims the label. “This is cheap shit.”

Yeah, it was stupid cheap. Toji swiped it off the clearance rack at the gas station around the corner from his complex. They started tagging the alcohol, made it more difficult to steal, so he exclusively bought the least expensive liquor he could find. “Don’t gotta be smooth. Don’t gotta be much of anything, s’long as it fucks me up.” He didn’t drink rum on a Thursday at 3:42 pm for the taste. 

Shiu hums, looking oddly unnerved. Still holding the bottle, he jerks it up in a slight gesture. “What’s the occasion?” Followed by an awkward chuckle. Toji itches the base of his scalp, pushing down his bed hair. 

“Dunno.”

He was just sort of… regressing. Backsliding into the open arms of his beloved vices. Day drinking again, sloshing himself into liquor-induced unconsciousness that puts him to sleep for days. He starts hitting the casinos more frequently, tapping into poker games and betting away money he doesn’t have because the adrenaline of it all is orgasmic. Drugs have weaved themselves back into Toji’s routine as well; he’s been snorting the pricey shit that gets him numb in the face and leaves that nasty taste dripping in the back of his throat. Shit he hasn’t fucked with since his wife’s death. 

Well, he supposes he’s always been like this. Clinging onto some sort of substance to distract himself from the pain of being alive in a Zenin’s body, no matter how damaging or problematic it may be. His childhood looms over him, even as a grown man, and it’s so terribly pathetic to still be hung up on shit that happened over two decades ago. But he apologetically is. Toji is a pathetic, woeful piece of shit who is forever haunted by memories. 

Distractions. They weren’t always mutilating. Not all of them tore apart his body and soul. Sometimes, they were beautiful. 

His tongue twitches in his mouth, aching to curl around a cigarette. 

Shiu huffs, setting the bottle back down near his feet. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Toji nods curtly, licking at his dry lips. “I’m straight.”

“Right,” his handler responds slowly, entirely unconvinced. “You’ve been skimping out on your assignments. It’s fucking me over, Fushiguro.”

Toji hasn’t taken up a job in nearly three months. Not since the night he left your place and walked home in the pouring rain. It was funny—he hadn’t thought it was a bluff when you threatened to call the police. No, Toji expected his apartment complex to be swarmed with officers when he returned but… nothing besides crickets. That night was seared into his frontal lobe, every motion engraved and vivid behind his eyes. Still soaked to the bone, he melted into the couch and stared up at his water-damaged ceiling for hours before slumber pulled him into its embrace. 

Toji hasn’t slept in his bed since. 

“Oh, so that’s why you came to visit. Boss is cuttin’ your pay with me gone.” Toji smiles bitterly, then juts his lower lip out in a mock pout. “Aww, that must be so hard for you, I’m sorry. You can cry about it on the ride home in your fucking Bentley.”

“Hey asshole, this isn’t just a me thing. Your slacking affects both our paychecks.” Shiu rakes a hand through his gelled do, and Toji is acutely aware of the luxury watch glinting on his wrist. “I mean, shit, where have you even been getting your cash from lately? How have you been keepin’ the lights on in this shithole?”

That last question is a mystery to Toji, as well. Truth is, he hasn’t put a penny towards rent since he came back. Eviction was inevitable, he’d ride out the days he had left and then figure out what to do when he received his week’s notice. Only that pink slip of paper never appeared taped to his door. Surely, you weren’t still covering it… Not with the way you and him ended terms so roughly… But what the fuck else could it be? Toji wanted to ask you about it; wanted to use this entire situation as an excuse to contact you, but he couldn’t muster up the courage and resolve. Talking to you again sounded so fucking sweet, but so, so fucking painful. 

Toji didn’t answer, and Shiu grimaced at his quietness. On the couch, Shiu shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to rest his elbows over his thighs. “You’re not,” he struggles for a moment to find the words, squinted eyes drilling holes into Toji’s. “Tell me you ain’t whoring again.”

Sex was Toji’s grimiest form of escapism. He started fucking other people again. 

Mostly women, with a few men sprinkled in between. Gender was irrelevant; genitalia didn’t matter much to him in the grand scheme of things, Toji only fucked casually for the sensation of a warm body to hold onto. Vying for satisfaction with a partner, competing for release; it became a damn near nightly procedure at this point. Scouring bars in the dark hours for any willing participant, then fucking one out in the filth of the public restroom. His sweaty back against the stall, or him seated on the lid of a toilet. It was gross, he was gross. 

Again, Toji is silent, and it speaks volumes. “God, man.” Shiu holds his face, pinching his brow bone, maneuvering the muscles in his jaw. He doesn’t sound angry or annoyed, just disappointed, and it makes Toji feel unnaturally immature; like he were a child again, getting a scolding from the family’s housekeeper for accidentally knocking the vase at the center of his dining table over and shattering it on the ground. “That’s—you can’t be doing this again.”

“Yeah well I don’t exactly got the resume for a nine to five, now do I?” He was forever tainted by his past. No employer in the country would hire a man with four jail sentences, drug misdemeanors, battery charges, no education, no work experience… the list of Toji’s fuck ups could fill a dictionary front to back. 

“You cannot go back to that.” Shiu looks pale in the face. I’m making him sick to his stomach. 

“Money is money. Don’t hear you whining when you got me playing assassin for you, but God forbid I suck a coupla’ cocks for cash.” Toji pushes off the wall and stalks towards the tiny kitchenette on the far side of this cramped living space; this conversation is irritating him, he needs something to quell his cotton mouth. “Fix your morals, then we can talk.”

Shiu’s argument was mind numbingly idiotic. Comparing slaughter to sex for money, the absurdity nearly made Toji burst out laughing. Sex never killed anyone. 

He’s rooting around in the fridge. It’s practically bare, housing nothing more than a few take out boxes and some lager, but that’s alright. Toji tears a can of beer from the plastic six-pack ring, and when he pops out from the refrigerator, Shiu stands there with his hip against the small counter. “You’re self-destructing.”

The can cracks open. Beer carbonation pops and hisses. “Am I?” Toji sniggers, tossing back a swig. Shiu’s eyes flit to the beverage, nose wrinkling. Toji catches on and nods to the kitchen sink. It’s full of dirty dishes. “Faucet’s fucked. Water’s full of lead. This is the only drink in the house and I’m thirsty, so hop off.”

“You’re self-destructing,” Shiu repeats once more, not matching Toji’s humorous lilt. “I’m serious, Fushiguro. You’re off.”

“What do you want me to say to that besides fuck you?”

It grows quiet again. The air is warm and thick and rife with apprehension; it presses on Toji’s chest like a sleeping cat. “So what?” Finally, Shiu speaks. “That’s it?”

He shakes his head contentedly. “That’s it.”

“You understand this is going to be Hell for me from now on. You’re the best hired gun on my roster, the boss is gonna have my ass if you quit.” 

Toji takes a long sip of beer. “You’re tough. You can handle it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Shiu breathes, but there’s no real malice behind his words. “If you’re really serious about quitting, then fine. Fucking fine, I’ll—” He groans, massaging his temple, “I’ll handle it. But I’m telling you, this is the best it gets for guys like us.”

The best it gets is killing men. Leaving wives widowed, leaving kids fatherless. “Can’t be.” Toji feels nauseous at the thought. “There’s gotta be more.” There has to be. It’s the only affirmation that stops him from knocking back the whole bottle of vicodin in his bathroom medicine cabinet and calling it a night. 

“This is how the world works. This is us being punished for being shitty people.” 

Toji doesn’t have anything to say to that. He refuses to acknowledge it. 

Shiu rubs at his nape, pushing off the counter. “Look, I only dropped by to get on your ass for playing hooky, wasn’t exactly expecting… all of this. But, uh,” despite their expansive acquaintanceship with one another, they never really got a hang of the whole sentimental bit. Shiu tries for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as the words die on his tongue, before finally settling on a long exhale through the nostrils. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, squaring his shoulders. “Just stay safe, would ya?”

Toji salutes lazily. “Aye aye.”

Shiu ducks his head in a wide nod. “Good, good. And uh, you got my number. So use it if you need to.”

Toji can tell that Shiu is trying to dole out formalities in the most unconventional way possible, so he helps him out by chuckling. “Get the fuck outta my house already.” Then, he drains the last few ounces from his can before crushing the aluminum in his fist, tossing the litter carelessly to the floor. He’ll get it later. Or not. Probably not. 

“Yeah, okay.”

The hotel room is pitch black, not even the moonlight reaches through the window. Toji stumbles through the door first, dragging another person in by the waist. He kicks it shut with the heel of his boot. A woman—mid 20’s, pretty, about two heads shorter than Toji so he’s forced to crane his neck uncomfortably low when they kiss. Some random he found off an anonymous hookup app he downloaded, a consenting body three miles away for him to use. They coordinated a time and place—midnight at this shitty motel—which brings us to the present. 

“Wait—” She struggles to speak in between wet kisses, patting Toji's bicep. “Wh—get the lights.”

He shakes his head. “Leave them off.”

Humidity stickied the air, clinging to his skin alongside sweat. He was coming down from something—some upper he popped hours prior to this—and because of that, a thin tremble rattled in his bones gliding through marrow. It’s so hot. He’s hot everywhere. It almost hurts, the heat.  

She doesn’t put up much of an argument and takes his bruteness like a champ. Let’s him hoist her up and jerk her onto the stiff motel mattress, its blankets coughing a plume of dust into the atmosphere when their weights fell upon it. The scratchy comforter reeked of mildew and clawed back at the jagged callouses sitting in the divots of Toji’s weathered fingers when he grabbed handfuls of bedding. 

He finds himself drafting comparisons in the moment, as he often did. Comparing his present to a better time; when he wasn’t slutting himself out to strangers for a fix of warmth or money, in this case the former. Your bed—God, no not tonight, he shouldn’t be devoting another night to you—smelled of a sweet concoction; your perfume, your laundry detergent, your shampoo, just you. There was no catching or pulling at his marred hands when he clawed at your bedsheets, no, the satin was gentle on his most rough parts. 

“How do you want me?”

Toji blinked in succession, snapping back to cold reality. It was easy to lose himself in his delusions, muddying the lines between his dreamscape and actuality. Maybe the liquor finally seeped into his brain and this was neurosis’s way of knocking at the door. What a hilarious thing to think about. Toji slips a hand beneath her back and maneuvers the smaller body himself. 

“Hands and knees.” He doesn’t want to look at her face.

Neither of them had even bothered to undress—this truly lacked all semblance of intimacy. Hands reach behind herself to inch suffocating denim down past the shelf of her ass, Toji thumbs down his own waistband just past the half-mast erection he sported. Everything felt robotic, it was a wonder he could even get hard in such a lifeless domain. 

“You brought a con—” 

“Yes,” he responds pointedly, eager for the talking to cease. He didn’t care to hear the whispers of a strange woman asking about whether or not he had protection on him. Of course, he had one. It goes quiet again. In the dark, dank air Toji kneels behind a wet, willing hole and yet all he can think of is you when he stroked himself to total hardness. 

“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, disbelief evident in the obtuse look you gave him. He was splayed out on your kitchen tiles, ducked back beneath the sink, working at the drain pipe with a rubber-gripped wrench. His ass ached from sitting on hard floors for too long, back groaned under the pressure of being bent backwards, neck stiff and knotted thanks to the awkward tilt he was forced to wear, but seeing the awe scribbled on your face made the pain dull. “I had two handymen take a look, neither of them could find the issue. But you just knew exactly what to do.”

He had to laugh at the ridiculousness. “You’ve just got yourself a fucked supply line. Ain’t rocket science, I’ll get you right.” Toji slips out from the cupboard, looking up from the floor through pin straight bangs. Scratching a brow with his thumb nail, “you hired a couple of idiots.”

You retort in a groan, unable to thrum up a defense. “I’m the real idiot, I suppose. You think they were just trying to scam me or what?”

“Probably.” Back under the sink he goes, wedging the wrench around the circumference of the pipe. Toji’s forearm tenses with each crank of the tool, and he doesn’t stop until the bolt is fastened as tight as his strength can manage. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

Though he can’t see your face at the moment, Toji hears your sheepish smile wrapping around each word. “My hero.” The sarcasm was eminent, tongue-in-cheek and you nudged his foot with your own. He kicks you back, heel to your bony ankle. “Hey!” You’re laughing now. 

“Don’t get smart.” The drain pipe is secure, and he’s satisfied with his labor. Toji pulls himself to his feet, flicking the stainless steel lever on the sink’s tap with a knuckle. Crystal clear water flows out evenly from the faucet, collecting in a puddle at the basin, swirling down the drain. “Watch, look,” Toji points with his toe to the pipe under the cabinet, and he can’t quell the lofty smirk that tugs at scarred lips when there is no leakage. A successful repair; you look astonished for lack of a better word, and it gives the man a strange swell of pride hanging in his belly. 

He did that. He was useful to you in a way he hadn’t been useful to anyone in a long while. He didn’t have to kill, didn’t have to fuck; fixing a leaky kitchen sink seemed beyond good enough for you. Foolish.

“I’m impressed.” You turn to him. “Thank you, Toji.”

You blathered on some more, speaking such things of how generous you planned on being in return. Something about money in exchange for the service, but Toji wasn’t really listening past your declaration of gratitude. It was just straightforward plumbing work of the most basic level, and yet you thanked him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“Sure. It was no problem.” And he smiled back. 

That did it. He’s stiff, cock cradled in his fist with nothing less than a bruising grip. The condom was pre-lubricated and slick with odorless oil. Toji went through the practiced motions—hooking the ringed entrance over himself, pinching the tip of the condom, rolling it down to sheath every inch. 

“Oh,” she gasped, lurching forward at the feeling of Toji’s head sliding up and down between her legs. Between her folds. She’s wet for him. Hips whined back into his groin with avidity. “Put it in.”

He slaps her with an open palm, connecting with an asscheek. She moans again and reaches back to paw at Toji’s navel with blunt nails. Free from any of that fancy acrylic stuff. 

This time around was torturously similar to every other fuck he’s had in recent date. Everything is fast-paced and unforgiving, leaving not much room for anything else. Toji fucks to forget. He fucks to remember, too. 

“Y/n,” he groans shamelessly. There’s a muffled reply, but it’s murky and muffled and unable to be understood because Toji had taken the humble liberty of holding his conquest’s face into the flat, fluffless pillow. He doesn’t care for a response, to be corrected or called a piece of shit for being so inconsiderate as to not remember her name. It was Mandy, he wants to say. Maybe Maddy? Who gives a fuck. 

“That’s rude, you know.”

Toji pouts theatrically, forcing his bottom lip out in a way that has you playfully rolling your eyes. In his hand, a bundled ball of blanket that he’d stolen from you and hoarded to his side of the sofa. “Aww, I’m sorry.”

You sigh, throwing him a scathing glance. “No, you’re not.”

Movie night, or so you said. Sitting in the lonesome of your quiet penthouse just the two of you, watching some new finance documentary that just dropped on Netflix. It sounded absurdly boring to Toji, but you’d been keen on hyping it up all week long, offering him an invitation to view it together. Really, Toji couldn’t give a shit about a bunch of old guys talking crypto-bullshit for two hours straight—but it’s not like that’s what was really going to happen anyway. Toji had convinced himself this was all a ploy to snake your way into his pants at last. Naturally, he accepted your invitation. 

“Just gonna have to sit closer then,” Toji posed gruffly, eyeing down the gap between your bodies on the couch. Sitting at opposite ends like a couple of children who still believed cooties was a prevalent issue. He nods toward you,“come on.”

“You’re terrible.” Despite that, you scoot closer, invading his bubble of personal space and snatching your half of the blanket back. Focused on the Netflix explore page, tongue poked out between two rows of teeth as you enter the title of the documentary into the search bar, you miss the way Toji observes you. Watching. Waiting. 

And waiting. 

And waiting. 

For what? Who knows. Maybe Toji prepares himself  for the inevitable moment when you slip a hand beneath the blanket and drift over to his thigh. Ready for that familiar squeeze at his crotch, the same tango so many other curious hands have danced in the past. But he’d let you proceed without any qualms. He’d encourage you. 

“You’re bored, huh?” You chuckled halfheartedly midway through the film, pressing pause. Bored didn’t even begin to describe his pure disinterest. 

Toji shrugs. “Maybe.” His arm rests on the back ledge of the couch, not quite around you, but so close that it might as well be. He shifts, touches his right thigh to your left one, and tilts his chin down. “Listening to a bunch of rich fucks whine about the stock market doesn’t exactly captivate me.”

Frowning, “that’s only surface level. The audience is supposed to infer—” Fake snoring cuts you off. Toji rolls his eyes shut, hanging his jaw to fake the most obnoxious slumber. His head lolls onto your shoulder. You don’t shy away from the physical contact. “You’re not funny.” He begs to differ, what with the way nasally snorts crack from your sinuses. The shoulder he presses his cheek to stutters with stifled dissipation.

“Stop movin’.” Toji nuzzles closer, facetiously dumping body weight against you if not for anything other than to hear the struggle squeeze at your throat when you wrestle to keep upright. “I’m comfy like this.”

“You’re never this affectionate.” 

He’s not usually. But Toji’s hellbent on his premonitions. You want him. Everyone wants him. It’s been months of banter, months of getting spoiled by financial stability. You give him everything. You take nothing. His nose caresses the junction where shoulder and neck meet. Why won’t you just let him fucking give you something? You swallow hard. “Toji.”

“I constantly feel like I owe you. Like I got dues to pay.”

“Do I… make you feel that way?”

“All the fucking time.” It swelters beneath the blanket you share, and sweat starts to collect at the creases behind Toji’s knees. Bathing in the shared body heat, letting the convection hug his hips. He sighs, backtracking. “I know you got good intentions, ‘s what you keep telling me. And I like it, the way you reassure me. It’s… reassuring.” He titters into your neck, blinking slowly. 

“Then why do you keep doing this?” A ginger hand graces the rear of his skull, not forcing him closer, but not tugging him away either. It just sits there, scritching as calm as your voice. 

“Don’t know.”

This wasn’t the first time Toji succumbed to that shrill, little whisper in his head, the one that told him to spontaneously initiate closeness. It feels like common knowledge by now; to reciprocate in kind to any form of benevolence like a trained dog, because that was the expectation of him. To get on his knees and worship until bruises hammered into his joints and the hinges of his jaw grew sore from overuse. This transaction is familiar. It brings him a twisted sense of comfort, and you ripped it away. For better or for worse, Toji had yet to conclude.

“It’s like muscle memory.” That was the best way to describe it. Toji ached to give you the pleasure that felt long overdue in this affair. To offer some sort of repayment in the only way he knew how. Lips ghost over porcelain flesh—he’s never been so tempted in his life. Sex had always been the most exhausting and emotionally depleting aspect when he dealt with these kinds of unconventional financial relationships, but now as he unfurls his candied tongue and laves a stretch from collar to jawline, Toji has never wanted to be inside of someone more. Deft fingers were quick to pull him back by the scruff.

You studied Toji with unreadable eyes. He stares back, wiping excess saliva from his fatty lower lip with a thumb. 

“I don’t want this for us,” you speak up finally, meandering eyes roaming around his facial features. You look at his lips, then his nose, then between his eyes. “Are you listening? I’ll write it on my fucking forehead if that’s what it takes for you to understand.”

“What if I want it?” Toji breathes.

You’re shaking your head. “You don’t.”

Who the fuck are you to decide what he does or doesn’t want? And how fucking dare you be right about it. Because in all this build up—the panting, the heat, the licking—Toji hadn’t so much as twitched down there. It’s like his mind and body were completely detached, separate entities trying to cohesively navigate through an avalanche of generational trauma. Trying and failing miserably. He palms himself to confirm his limp appendage. 

“Fuck.” A bucket of ice water dumped over his head, washing away the illusion of lust and leaving behind reality in its wake. What the fuck am I doing? “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Toji doesn’t really understand what you’re apologizing for. You’ve got no need to feel sorry when he was the one who threw himself at you so abruptly. But he doesn’t ask, either. It felt eerily nice to be on the receiving end of an ‘I’m sorry.’ 

You still hold his nape. The film is long forgotten at this point, set on the backburner, and dimmed with the Are you still watching? notification blanketing the screen. 

“Your movie.” Toji cocks his head, beckoning towards the gigantic television pinned to the wall all without tearing his eyes from yours. “Press play.”

This has the beginnings of a coy smirk straining your lips. “I thought it was boring you?”

He shrugs. “It’s not so bad.”

And so you resumed the documentary, if not for anything other than to dissolve the serious tension that palpated in the air. You didn’t force Toji to explain himself, you didn’t hound him for answers about his hypersexuality. You didn’t distance yourself, you didn’t act appalled when his thigh brushed yours again. You didn’t pity him, you didn’t treat him like a child. But you did stroke his neck. You continued to laugh with him. You let him fall asleep on you that night and didn’t wake him ‘till morning. 

You let him trust.

His orgasm doesn’t have any anticipation. It crashes down on him all at once, splitting down the notches of his spine and sending bouts of electricity zapping down to his curled toes, still encased in thick, mud soaked boots. She cries below, contorting in the direction of the pleasure, but Toji holds her down while he fills the rubber.

It’s unsatisfying. 

“Oh my fuck—” The woman pants on her come down, trembling around him. She clearly enjoyed herself, giggling stupidly into the pillow now sopping with drool and tears. Toji pulls out with little grace, sneering at the viscous mess of bodily fluids slicking up his navel. Proficient fingers work the sticky condom off, tying the end in a balloon knot.

It’s gross.

He folds, dropping onto the bed beside her. Sweat glues bangs to his forehead. His chest rises, then falls, then rises again with exertion. Sleep threatens to rear itself, weighing down his eyelids.

It’s tiring.

The body beside him stirs, rolling on her side. “How was it?”

“Good,” he lies through his teeth for the sake of sparing feelings. She smiles, feeling over his chest. 

“It was good for me, too,” she tells him like he asked. “Really good. Oh, also my name’s Maria by the way, not Y/n.” Maria chuckles like it was just a silly mix up. 

She drags him into mindless, post-sex banter. Rambling on about workplace drama, about her two pet cats and about her shity landlord. Mindless rattling that falls on Toji’s deaf ears; he’s disassociated, lying face-up on the terribly hard bed, fixated on the grime weighing down his lap. When an opening arises, Toji hauls himself up and claims the shower.

An intense wave of queasiness materializes in the centerpoint of Toji’s stomach when he closes himself in behind the bathroom door. The aftermath always felt this awful—bitter and lonely and degrading. Toji takes a moment to just be, perching on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands, swallowing down sickness lest he subject Maria to a concert of his disgusting gags if he retches into the bowl. 

When Toji stands to fiddle with the shower handle, he becomes hyper aware of the weight in his sweatpants. There’s an awkward sag in the fabric, bunching around the object that sits heavy in his front pocket. His cellphone—he never bothered to remove it. Giving a sniffle to the air, Toji fishes out the device and taps the screen with little interest.

Oh.

He looks away. Looks at the sink, then the wall, then the glass door of the shower cubicle. Then back at his screen. Back at the very real notification that sits there idly, begging to be clicked.

Toji’s heart races at a perilous speed, something lethal for an old man like himself. He can feel the beat rumble his insides, blending everything up like a bloody smoothie. 

Yielding, he clicks.

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[darnell-la]

Please I need more “drive-by sniffing” It’s so funny to me but also I’m into it

warnings: jealousy, hiding keys, sniff-by (drive by sniffing), lying, teasing, trapping, kissing, carrying, oral (fem receiving), etc.

note: perv!logan???? FUCKIN’ HELL.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“They’re just a friend, Wade” y/n sighed as Wade kept complaining about where and why she was going. She was trying to find her keys and he knew for a fact he took them.

“Where are they, Wade? I told you I was leaving before I took a shower and now they’re off the kitchen counter so — Where are they!?” Y/n yelled at the man, making Logan choke on his beer.

“I don’t know, peanuts. Maybe it’s lost up your ass,” Wade shrugged as he got up and slipped his shoes on. “Shame on you for leaving mister I have no life and I hate everyone and everything, over there. Maybe you couldn’t take him on a date,”

“It’s not a date!” She yelled at the man, knowing this might be, but it was none of his business. “Yeah, sure it’s not, but since it’s so not a date, why not take Grandpa with you? He hasn’t seen the sun in a while,” Wade whispered.

Before y/n could say anything, he left, shutting the door hard and singing as he skipped down the hall, ready to go see Vanessa. “Dick shit,” said under her breath.

“Language, young lady,” Logan chuckled as he took a sip of his ninth beer. “Who are you? The god of prohibited language?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the man before she continued her search for her car keys.

“Lookin’ for these, bub?” Logan’s voice spoke after a few minutes of silence. She wanted to ignore him, but once she heard her keys jingle, her head snapped towards him.

“Bro, you had it the whole time!?” Y/n wanted to yell at the man, but he was Wade’s guest. Y/n only stayed here at times when it got too late for her to drive home. He’s somehow friends with her elders and he needed a “full-time babysitter for his dog” that he had just picked up and left with.

Her parents and grandparents insisted she didn’t help Deadpool and Dogpool. They were all big fans, but y/n wasn’t planning on working for him.

Wade had something behind what he was doing after y/n served him his food at bingo night. She was young but not too young, pretty, went to college, and was hard to deal with. Right up Logan’s alley, but did Wade tell him his secret evil plan? No.

“Yeah, because you’re lying,” Logan put the keys back in his pocket after she came over to him to take back what was hers. “What? Bro, give me my keys,” y/n was annoyed.

“You are going on a date, ain’t ya?” He asked. She could do all the washing she wanted, but he could still smell her. “No, for the love of god. Can you guys stop asking me that shit? It’s annoying!”

“Last time I checked, it only takes you ten minutes to shower, not thirty,” y/n was surprised he paid attention to her shower times. She’s only been in and out of Wade’s shared apartment for a couple of months.

“Your point is?” She asked, knowing he wasn’t dumb, but she hoped he’d give up. “I don’t know, you tell me,” he got up, now towering over her. Her neck ached from the sudden new angle she had to look at him.

“I can smell you, you know,” Logan admitted. “What do you mean?” She genuinely asked. “I can smell you leaking. It’s hard to miss when you smell like that every time you leave to meet up with your friends,”

She wanted to call out his perverted activities but had nothing to say. He was old, but she wasn’t a minor, so what could she say to make him feel uncomfortable for invading her privacy.

“How good is he? Seems like he fucks good if you’re soaked right before you leave,” Logan had y/n cornered on the wall. She didn’t know she was backing up that much until she had nowhere else to go.

“How about you let me meet him. Lemme watch how he fucks you so I can show you better,” his hot breath blew on her face. He was so close and intimidating. Where did all of this come from?

“Sometimes I can smell him on you. I hate it so much, you know why, bub?” Logan asked as his finger cupped her chin. Y/n softly shook her head. “Because I can do better,”

Before she knew it, his lips were all over her, barely letting her process before his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Usually, she found that nasty, hating the sloppy kisses, but this time — Fuck, it felt so nice.

Y/n kissed back, whines escaping her mouth as she now felt needy. She was already turned on, knowing she was going to meet her boy toy tonight, but Logan seemed better. He was always the better choice.

“Greedy slut,” the man spat, sounding angry, but she knew that’s how they talked when they were turned on. She could feel his hard on through his jeans. He was grinding up and down her body like a pole.

“Always leavin’ to fuck another man, like I’m not here, baby. I don’t like that disrespect,” Logan pulled the girl off of the wall and now carried her to his room that they sometimes shared.

Wade’s apartment is a two-bedroom, so if she slept over, she’d sleep on Logan’s bed, and he’d sleep on the small couch in the room.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t sleep better when she was right across from him. He’d also be lying if he said he would switch the sheets because he loved her smell.

He never did anything like this back where he was, but something after that fight made him switch. He was turning into a small pervert for a young lady in who’s barely the legal drinking age.

“Smellin’ like candy,” Logan sniffed, loving the new lotion she had bought a few days ago. “Gonna go through all that work when I take you on a date?” He asked as he slowly took the girl's clothes off. “Maybe,” she shyly said, surprised he wasn’t thinking about this as a one-night stand.

“Doesn’t matter, bub — Ima still eat that pussy till you cry,” he said as he spread the girl's legs. She felt so smooth. She was ready for him, not that dickhead she was getting ready to meet.

Logan slowly slicked up the girl's slit, taking in how close he is to her smell. All the days of smelling her getting ready for another man, just for her to get pulled back for him.

“Bet this cunts sweet,” the man said before diving in for a few seconds. Her mom got stuck in her throat. That was amazing, and he had more.

“Sure fuckin’ is,” Logan quickly went back in, arms wrapping around and thighs to pull her into his face. He wanted to suffocate in between her thighs.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (42/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The new bed is here! And Joris isn't happy about it!

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: LETS GOOOOOOOO!!! FORZA FERRARI!!!

“It was really nice of you to take the photos for Enzo and Charlotte,” Charles says as you both get into the car in the afternoon. He buckles up and starts the engine. 

“It's my job, after all,” you smile and make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. 

Charles steers the car out of the driveway. "Well, actually it's your job to take pictures of me, not of my brother's engagement," he corrects you, for which you gently punch him on the shoulder. 

“I still enjoyed doing it,” you say. "I'm very happy for Enzo and Charlotte. They seem like the perfect couple.”

Charles purses his lips and nods. "They've been together for a long time. We were all wondering when he would finally pop the question. But I didn't think he'd actually do it during Christmas.”

You look at him. ”Why not?”

“I don't know,“ he replies, shrugging his shoulders. "I would have thought he would have done it in the summer, after a nice day on the boat and then maybe at dinner.”

You look at him. "Maybe he wanted to combine it with something nice – and Christmas is a celebration of love.” You can't help but grin. “And he didn't have to buy her a Christmas present, just a ring.”

Your roommate laughs. “Should I do the same to you next year? Just propose to you so I don't have to get you a gift?” 

You know it's a joke, but when the words leave his mouth, you feel warm. You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “Absolutely not.”

The Monegasque steers the car through the streets of his home country. “And how should I propose then? Do you want a trip in a hot air balloon? At Times Square, where everyone is watching? Or at a Taylor Swift concert while she sings Love Story?”

You can't suppress a giggle. ”None of that, please.”

“Then tell me.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Mmm. I've never really thought about it much. But I think I'd rather have a moment that's just for the two of us. Where no one else is watching, where we're on our own. No onlookers, no one to talk about it. Just the two of us – I think that would be perfect.”

Charles squeezes your hand twice. “Good to know.” He smiles at you briefly before looking back at the road. “By the way, I asked Pierre and Kika if they wanted to go to Lando's party with us tonight. I hope that was okay.”

“Absolutely. I feel like I haven't seen Kika in ages. But it was only – what – four days ago?” 

“I think so. They want to come around seven, so you two can get ready together and maybe have a drink.” 

Without thinking about it, you lean over and kiss his cheek. "You're the best, Charles." You can see the blush rising in his face, but you let it go uncommented.

“I know,” he says with a grin as he turns into the underground parking garage. When the car comes to a stop, you both get out and you press the elevator button while Charles takes your bags out of the trunk. 

“What are the parties like in Monaco?” you ask him as you both enter the elevator. ‘Do you have to dress particularly chic or does it depend on the club? How much money do I need to take with me? Is my ID card enough or do I need to take anything else?’ you bombard him with questions. 

Charles has to laugh. ”Haven't you ever been out partying?”

You shake your head and press the button for your floor. “Not in Monaco, no.”

The elevator doors close and you feel it transport you upwards. The Monegasque looks down at you. “The club where Lando's friend performs is chic, but not super chic. If you like –”

“Where the fuck have you been?” an angry Joris bellows at you as the elevator door opens. 

You almost have a heart attack from the shock, but Charles just looks at his best friend in confusion.

“Since when did you stop checking your cell phones? I've tried to reach you ten thousand times!” Joris's face is as red as a tomato as he snarls at you angrily and you get out of the elevator without saying a word. ”I was still asleep! And I didn't even get to eat breakfast!”

Charles puts your two bags down next to the apartment door. "And a good morning to you, Joris. How can I help you?” He walks past him, deeper into the apartment, Joris follows him, seething. You follow them in silence.

“How you can help me?” Joris asks snappishly, leaning on the kitchen worktop with his hands, before pointing at a few sheets in front of him with his index finger. “Next time you order furniture, at least be home when it's delivered, or leave your own cell phone number so they can call you if they ring the doorbell and you don't open it.” 

Charles opens his eyes wide. ”Our bed.”

Joris sneers. “This shitty bed has cost me valuable hours of sleep. And I certainly shouldn't have driven here.”

Charles can hardly keep a grin off his face as he turns around and opens the fridge. "How many bottles of wine did you drink yesterday?", he asks, placing eggs, vegetables and bacon on the counter in front of him. 

“Two.”

Your roommate gets a bowl and a pan out of a drawer before he starts to crack the eggs into them. “Did you throw up in your front yard?”

Joris rolls his eyes and watches as Charles prepares his hangover breakfast. "No.”

“Then congratulations,’ Charles grins. ”Then you had a successful Christmas.”

The omelette tastes so good that Joris's anger disappears with the first bite. He talks about Christmas dinner with his parents and his brother and the family vacation planned for next year, while he shovels the omelette into himself like a bulldozer. In between, Charles slides him coffee across the counter in a cup, but doesn't dare get closer to his hungry and hungover friend. 

“By the way, the bed is very nice,” Joris finally says, pushing the empty plate away. ‘You could have at least warned me.”

“I'm sorry,’ Charles apologizes with pursed lips. ”Are we friends again?”

Joris sighs. “Of course,” he smiles, getting up from his chair to embrace his oldest friend. They both pat each other on the back before letting go. “I have to go now. By the way, I gave the delivery man a €150 tip for kindly setting up the bed. Thank God you had some money lying around.”

Charles watches his friend go in the direction of the apartment door with confusion. “The setup was already included in the price.“

The photographer purses his lips. "At least they got a nice tip," he finally says, before leaving the apartment and leaving you two alone. 

Without saying a word, you take the dirty dishes and wash them in the sink while Charles puts your bags in the bedroom. When he returns, he stands directly behind you. You can feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes. 

“We also have a dishwasher, you know?” he whispers, laying his chin on your shoulder. His arms wrap around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. 

You nod and lean against him. “But we don't need to run the dishwasher for that,” you reply, breathing in as his hand slowly slides under your sweater. “It was very nice of you to make Joris breakfast, even though it's already afternoon.”

“Mm-hmm,” Charles hums softly. "It was the least I could do. It was really nice of him to come here to take delivery of the bed. I'd completely forgotten that I put down his cell phone number." 

“Joris is a good friend.”

“He is,” he murmurs and kisses your cheek. ‘But I prefer to have you lying in my new bed." He gently pulls you out of the kitchen towards the bedroom where the new bed is. Joris was even kind enough to make the bed; dark gray sheets are smoothly stretched over the mattress and you would love to snuggle up in them. 

“It looks incredibly cozy,“ you smile. 

“Come on.” Charles gently pushes you towards the bed. “I told you I wanted you in it.” He watches you with eagle eyes as you slowly crawl onto the bed and slip under the covers, putting your cell phone on the nightstand. As if you've been conditioned, you have to yawn. 

“The bed was definitely the right decision,” you smile and stretch your arms to fold them behind your head. "But it was definitely the wrong decision to trick me to get into it.”

“Why?’ your roommate chuckles. ”Too comfortable?”

“Definitely. I'd love to stay here forever.” You tap the empty side of the bed next to you. ”Come and try it out.”

Without wasting another moment, Charles circles the bed and lies down next to you. His arm wraps around your middle again and pulls you towards him so that your chests are touching. “I see your point. It is pretty comfortable.” His hand slides up your back under your sweater until it finds its place between your shoulder blades. 

You close your eyes and breathe out. “Do we have to go out partying tonight? I mean, can't we just order take-out and stay in?”

“Of course we could do that,” he smiles. 'But I highly doubt you want to cancel on Kika and Lando.”

You sigh. ‘We could invite everyone here," you suggest. ”The bed is big enough for all of us and –”

“Absolutely not,” he interrupts you and shakes his head vehemently. ‘The only ones allowed in this bed are already in it. Nobody else is allowed to snuggle up in the covers. Besides, I don't like the thought of you lying in a bed with Lando.”

You raise your hand and gently run your fingers through his brown curls. "Are you jealous?”

A deep growl escapes Charles' throat. “Maybe.”

You lean forward and kiss his stubbled cheek. ”You do know that Lando is the reason we're friends again, right? Because he called you when you were in Italy?”

“I am aware,“ he mumbles, pressing you closer. "Doesn't mean you have to share a bed, though.’ 

“You don't have to worry about that,” you grin. “There's only one man I want to share a bed with.” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Don't worry, Charlie. You're the one I mean, of course.”

“Perfect.”

You lie in bed for a while, legs tangled and snuggled together. You gently run your fingers through his hair while his fingertips caress your back. Lying here with him feels so normal, so familiar, that you don't ever want to be in a bed without him again. 

“You still haven't answered my questions about tonight,” you say eventually, and your hand gently caresses the soft skin at the nape of his neck. 

Charles almost moans, his eyes closed. "I'll pay for you.”

“But I can pay for myself," you smile, even though he's not looking at you.

“Doesn't matter.” Your fingers pause in their movement. Charles fidgets a little, wanting for you to continue.

“You're about to fall asleep, Charlie," you giggle, but comply with his silent request. 

He moves closer to you and cuddles his face into the hollow between your jaw and your shoulder before taking a deep breath. “I'm not,” he replies softly. “But lying here with you is so comfortable.” He leisurely pulls at your sweater to reveal the skin on your neck and places feather-light kisses where your pulse is beating. Goosebumps spread across your body. 

“Charles...”

“Let's cancel on everyone,” he whispers, and his hand moves to your thigh to drape your leg over his hip so that you are literally pressed against each other, body to body. You feel his hardness against your clothed core. 

You sigh. “But you just said that we can't cancel,” you reply. “Besides, you already said yes to Lando and invited Pierre and Kika.”

“I don't care,” he breathes. “Let's be crappy friends and cancel at the last minute. I'm sure the others will understand.”

“What will they understand, hm? That the bed is so comfortable that we don't want to leave it?“ you ask him quietly. 

“That I'd rather be here in bed with you than standing in a crowded club.” His breath caresses your neck gently. “That I'd rather test out the new bed with you than yell at you over the loud music just to be able to talk to you.”

His words make your face heat up. You hope he doesn't notice. “Then we'd be very bad friends.”

“Then let's be very bad friends,” he grins against your neck before pressing a final kiss on your pulse. “We can make it up to them sometime. Just not today. Today I want you all to myself. Now that I finally have you back with me.”

You feel him press his boner against you and you absentmindedly tighten your leg around his waist. Your fingers gently press into his neck muscles and his breathy moans reach your ears. You can feel your arousal pool in your panties and you want to give in so bad. 

You want to stay home with him. In this bed. You want to repeat last night at his mom’s house, but this time the both of you would be able to show how much pleasure you give each other. You desperately want to hear him groan again, but now without the barrier of your hand on his mouth. You want to feel his cock against your pussy, sliding through your folds and gathering your juices. 

God, you want to repeat last night but without any clothes on. His cock nudging against your clit, sending jolts of electricity through your veins. His hands grabbing your ass and moving you over his length. You want to feel the the tip of his dick catching in your entrance before finally sliding in, stretching you deliciously. 

You want to fuck him so bad that it’s making you dizzy.

“What are you thinking about, mon amour?” Charles asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

Before you can answer him – which you don't really want to do anyway – your cell phone rings. The Monegasque reaches for it without hesitation, answers the call and puts the person on speakerphone. 

“Allo?”

“Hello, you two,“ Kika's voice sounds from your cell phone. ‘How are you? What are you doing?”

“We're testing my new bed,’ Charles replies with a grin, and you hide your face in the duvet. 

“You can't say that,” you say, reaching for your cell phone, but your roommate extends his arm so you can't get to it. 

“Why?“ Charles asks hypocritically. "It's true, isn't it?”

“Charles!”

Kika laughs loudly. "Should I call back in a minute? I don't want to disturb you guys doing whatever it is you're doing.”

“It's fine,” you call to her, although she would have understood you even if you had spoken normally. “What can I do for you?”

The Portuguese woman giggles. “I just wanted to ask what you would like to drink and what you are going to wear.”

You open your eyes wide. "Um, I have no idea. What do people wear in the clubs here?" You repeat the question you've already asked your roommate. 

“How about this?” She begins. "Pierre and I will come a little earlier and go through your closet together? The guys can play video games or something. And we'll get ready in peace and quiet."

You like her suggestion. ”That would be great.”

“Great. Pierre and I are going out for a quick shopping trip and want to buy some wine. You drink sweet, right? Then I'll bring you something.”

“Thanks!” you reply and with a big stretch you finally get to your phone in Charles's hand. "See you in a bit!" You hang up and put the phone back on the bedside table. When you turn to your friend, he's pouting. ”What's wrong?”

He turns on his back and crosses his arms over his chest, which is a little difficult considering your leg is still wrapped around his waist. “I was kind of hoping you'd cancel on them.”

A smile spreads across your face. You slide closer to him again and reach for his arms to separate them before you roll onto him. Your knees are next to his hips on the mattress and instinctively, his big hands find your ass. 

“I'm sorry, Charles,” you whisper, leaning down so that you are completely on top of him. Your elbows are next to his shoulders and your hands are finding their way into his hair again. ”We don't have to stay long.”

The Monegasque exhales. “As long as you promise me that we'll stay in bed tomorrow, that's okay with me.” When you purse your lips, he groans in annoyance and pushes his head back into the pillow. “Do I have to go to camp with Andrea tomorrow?”

You nod slightly. ”I'm afraid so.”

“That's terrible,” he complains, wrapping his arms around you. ”Then we won't see each other again until New Year's Eve! What will I do without you during that time?”

You don't want to think about spending the next few days without him, which is why you change the subject back to tonight. 

“How about this: Kika and Pierre are coming over soon and we'll party later with Lando and his DJ friend,” you begin your suggestion. 

Charles raises an eyebrow. ”I don't see any compromise I'm willing to make.”

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Just let me finish. So - we're all going out to party in a bit, and when we get back home we can make ourselves comfortable in bed here, watch another movie and not get out of bed until noon tomorrow.”

“Do we have to be dressed to watch the movie?” he asks mischievously, and as you move to roll away from him, he turns you both so that he is now on top of you. He grabs your thighs and puts your legs back around his waist, and as he nestles against you, almost crushing you under his weight – which feels better than you care to admit. You feel his boner between your legs. 

“Charles,“ you moan softly as his cock softly nudges against your clothed clit. 

“Do we have to be dressed?” he repeats his question and slides his hand under your sweater, his fingers spreading over your sides. 

You breathe in his scent and bask in his warmth. “We don't have to,” you reply without giving a thought to what it means for you. But you couldn't care less about that right now. 

Charles's lips breathe light kisses on your neck. “Then it's a deal,” he whispers before withdrawing completely – leaving you high and dry. “Come on. Our friends will be here soon. And I doubt you'll want to be in our bed then. No matter how comfortable it is,“ he grins and leaves the bedroom. But as he walks through the door, you can still see him put his hand in his sweatpants to fix his erection. 

Somehow you're glad you have the same effect on him as he does on you. 

Hot blood courses through your veins when you think about how the evening will end. You would love to pull Charles back into bed, rip his clothes off and let him ravish you until you can't walk anymore. 

That will have to wait. 

But anticipation is half the fun.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 dating two vigilante’s is already a mouthful, so much so, you’re not too shocked when you and jason give dick a little treat during his patrol ~♡

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, open relationship [dick grayson], cuckholding, phone sex, facetime, masterbation, some degradation, cumshot, jason is a hoe and dick is a shameless cuck.

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ went off the rails with this one ngl, was kicking my feet the whole time too (*ﾉωﾉ) if willing, i’ll make a pt 2 for yall <3

still nothing yet.

dick grayson sat on the edge of the Wayne Industries building, gazing upon Gothem from an eagle’s eye. seemed like the criminals he usually decends upon decided to take it easy tonight, barely making a peep besides the typical bar fights and runaway children rebelling against their parents.

but it didn’t bother him much, after all, his patrol was nearly over with bruce and cass already out ‘n about the streets. dick will finally go home, to you and his stubborn brother jason fuckin’ todd.

none of you had any clue how the things went so off the rails, starting when you suggested to your boyfriend that you wanted to try and open the relationship. dick, while hesitant at first, decided to give it a go. surprisingly, it went pretty smooth. dick went off seeing other people just like you were, yet always coming home to each other just like before.

until, someone decided to take his golden opportunity.

it wasn’t a secret that jason had the hots for you, always taking the chances to talk to you while dick couldn’t grab his attention for shit as the vigilante was too lost in his conversation with you. “dick’s a lucky one alright..” he’d say so shamelessly.

so lucky, jason hops on your ass the moment he got a hint of your open relationship. you didn’t even stop the man and niether did dick, as things quickly escalated between you and the red hood. tonight being no exception.

rinnggg! rinnggg! dick’s phone jingles to you calling to facetime him, he picks up expecting to see your pretty face greeting him. and he did!

“hey prin!—“ “oh..oh fuck!”

there you were, on your back with cum already splattered all over your stomach, you’re whole body rocking up whatever soft surface you laid on from the unseen stranger’s cock pistoning in and out of your soaked cunt.

“sorry big bro, couldn’t wait another—shit!—second for ya..”

jason’s voice rasped into the speaker, drowning out your moans. dick stared, jaw agape and pants tighter then he remembered. despite listening to your hookups, he never actually watched you get your back blown out by another man. a high pitched whine snapped him back into reality, now you’re staring right at the camara with teary eyes and swollen, wet lips.

“nghh..dick..p-pwease come home! need you to..”

another harsh snap of jason’s hips knocked a moan out of you, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your face back towards the camara. towards dick. “need him to what? c’mon [name], sing it for dickie!”

he mocked as dick already shuffled his way into the staircase, frantically fishing his leaking cock out as you clenched around jay’s girth.

“fuckkk..jason you son of a—“ dick hissed, fucking his fist to the sight of your squirming in orgasm. your knees threatening to snap together, your face flushed in embarrassment yet arousal and those syrupy, pathetic eyes staring back at his. a sight straight out of some fucked up porn for a guy with a cucking fetish.

“woah there! look at that dick..i think you’re little boyfriend’s into this, right? you brazen little minx?!”

jason’s breathy laugh of amusement harmonized with your hiccups and sobs as you creamed all over the red hood’s cock, his girth wet and coated in white as he slowed his thrusts down. dick, turned on yet aggravated that another man made you cum, threw his head back against the wall as he reached his own orgasm.

“[name], baby..look at me, please, look at me while i cum..! shit!”

dick let out a broken groan as ropes of white landed on his phone screen and onto the floor, yet he still was hard as a fucking rock. what didn’t help was that when he looked back at the facetime, you were already on all fours, ass up with your leaking pussy ready to be fucked once again.

“you might wanna hurry up, or i’ll fuck him raw again.”

jason chuckled as dick sprinted through the dark sky, already around the corner to get some well deserved payback. see who’s laughing still once you’re stuffed full of your man’s cock with the paramour watching.

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[omgthatdress]

Just a little considerations for those still grieving Liam Payne

So, right now, you are probably still lost in some very real grief over someone you never met but has still been a major part of your life since you were thirteen. You feel like you've lost an extremely close friend. It's hard to imagine your life where he isn't somehow present.

I know all this because felt the exact same way seven years ago when Chester Bennington died by suicide. And I do have a little bit of wisdom to share with you all right now, wisdom that I really wish I didn't have.

First of all, it's okay to be sad. To cry. To feel like shit and wish this had happened to someone else, someone who deserved it. Give yourself the time and space to feel all that because it's the only way you can start to move on. Feeling sad is only a problem when, months later, you simply CAN'T move on. That's depression, and that's when you should seek professional mental health treatment.

Secondly, there aren't going to be ANY easy answers in this. Right now a lot of people are looking for fingers to point, people to blame, and even finding conspiracy theories that Liam was murdered. While it may be initially comforting to fall into the idea that Liam didn't do this to himself, he was murdered for some reason (usually because he was going to expose a pedophile ring of some sort), conspiracy theories are always wrong and will NEVER give you the satisfying answer you want.

It was Liam's decision to step out onto that balcony, and his alone. It is no one else's fault. Accepting that is incredibly hard to do, but it is ultimately what will grant you the most peace.

As for what lead up to that, well, there's a lot. Fucked up celebrity deaths are kind of my Roman Empire, so while I never knew Liam, I DO know a lot about what leads up to huge, terrible tragedies that play out in the tabloids in extremely ugly ways.

Becoming famous at a really young age is an incredibly mixed bag. While you do get to live out this shit 99% of people on earth can only dream of, it does mean you often find yourself at 30 with a career that's basically over. A lot of young celebs simply don't know what to do with themselves once the fame and adoration has dried up, and the answer is usually to do an absolute fuck ton of drugs.

Drug and alcohol abuse changes your personality. I know this from personal experience. Someone very close to me developed a serious problem with alcohol, and turned from a kind, funny, wonderful person to someone nasty, abusive, and resentful. Someone I didn't recognize at all. While I and my person were very lucky that they were able to quit drinking, not everyone is so lucky.

Liam deserved better. He was so young and he still had ample opportunity to turn his life around. But he made one terrible decision, and now he's dead, and there simply is no changing that.

So what do you do? Remember him, and love him. Be grateful for the joy that he brought into your life. Sing his songs, and stay close to the friends you made because of him. The fact that you are so fucking sad right now is a beautiful thing, because it only shows how deeply loved Liam Payne really was.

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[alwaysanundertone]

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

angst

word count: 1.4 k

CW: mention of abusive household

tag list: @reggieswriter @call-me-mishi @moonyxoxo

part 1, part 2, part 3

Losing a Quidditch game usually resulted in James and Sirius taking their anger out on you, which you didn’t mind at all, but today was different. This time, Remus wasn’t going to leave you with the boys, Sirius was clearly upset with you, and James was probably going to be pissed for the loss.

You took a deep breath, taking Remus’s hand in yours and going straight to your dorm, waiting for your other boyfriends. You were pacing the room in front of Remus, the anxiety eating you alive; what you hated the most was the fact that you knew for sure that Sirius was mad at you.

“I’m an awful person, Rem, I couldn’t give Siri the attentions he needed when he was in pain“

“That’s right, you didn’t!” Sirius entered your room, James behind him. “I thought that being in a polyamorous relationship meant that I could count on three people when I was sad, instead you left me with poor James, do you want to stop this relationship now? So that you and Remus can go live happily ever after?! What the fuck, Y/N”

You felt your breath quicken, you knew that if he kept this up, you were going to break. “Sirius, you have to understand that- “

“No! None of that, I don’t want to hear it! You know what, Y/N? You’re just as heartless as everybody says, I was just too blind to see how the rumours were true.” You felt a pang to your chest, you knew that Sirius didn’t mean what he was saying, but it hurt you still. You spent your whole life battling against the fact that you usually didn’t know how to show love to the people you cared about, but you thought you’ve been good to them, you thought that all your efforts were seen. “You don’t give a fuck about other people’s wellbeing; you didn’t even ask me what happened! If we lost today, it was all your fault, you’re a self-centred-“

“Knock it off, Black. You don’t get to treat her like that! Just because your family is treating you like shit doesn’t mean you have to make everybody else feel what you’re feeling.”

“Remus, you’re the one to talk” You whipped your head in James’s direction. “You are the reason behind this mess, if you could control your stupid instincts everything would have been fine, and we’d be here celebrating our victory”

He scoffed. “Yeah, because it’s my fault if you both suck at Quidditch, isn’t it?” They kept on bickering, but you weren’t listening to them anymore, your mind too focused on Sirius words. You hated yourself for not being enough for them, maybe Dorcas was right, maybe you should have thought about it before diving headfirst in a poly relationship; you weren’t even sure if you were made for a relationship, period.  

“What, Y/N, too focused on yourself to care about our feelings?”

You decided you had enough, you needed time to think, and Sirius anger wasn’t helping you at all. “You know what? Yes, I am, because the ones who were supposed to love me just treated me like everybody else. So go fuck yourself, next time you’ll need me, I’ll be gone” You stormed off their dorm, running to your room and casting a spell, leaving them behind.

As you were about to start sobbing, Dorcas entered the room, sighing as she saw you on your bed. “You were right, Cas, maybe I’m not made for a relationship”

She shook her head, hugging you tightly. “Shh, don’t think about it now, okay? Tomorrow you’ll have time to process all of this, now you just have to rest.” She started scratching your back, singing a lullaby, and you found yourself falling in a deep slumber.

“Hey, Y/N” You mumbled something, covering your face with the duvet. “Y/N. It’s 2 P.M., you have to start studying”

That made you sit up so quickly, you felt dizzy. “Shit, the test” How could  you be so dumb?  Sacrificing all of the work you put to ace this test for a stupid fight was really pathetic, even for you.

“Yeah, the test, listen I finished your notes and made you some flashcards, now you just have to start studying, but first you should eat-“

The idea of seeing the marauders made you physically ill. “I don’t want to go-“

“Yes, I know, I brough you some food” She shook a paper bag in front of you. The fact that she spent her morning doing your work and even brought you food made you feel really close to crying, and she noticed it. “Nope, no more crying. I know you, you’re about to thank me, don’t do that! I’m your best friend, I love you and this is nothing, okay? I just want you to be happy, and I know you will feel like shit if you don’t pass this test. So, start studying, okay?” She kissed the top of your head. “I got to go, Marlene’s waiting for me. Love you, bye!”

She left you on the bed, staring at the now closed door.

You looked at the sandwich: she knew you too well, if she didn’t bring you food you wouldn’t have eaten, but since she brought it to you, you felt guilty.

You pulled out your flashcards and started eating, you could be heartbroken, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to fail for your stupid feelings.

Meanwhile, Sirius just woke up. His head was feeling heavy, but most of all, he was regretting every single thing he said to you. Deep down, he knew that you were just trying to be there for everyone, and that it wasn’t an easy task. Remus didn’t control his instincts; he couldn’t blame him for being clingy.

“Someone’s decided to grace us with his presence” The werewolf was looking down at him, his brows furrowed: he knew that look, he was mad.

“I’m so, so sorry” And just like that came the tears. Remus was stubborn, but if there was something that made him cave, that was his lovers’ tears, so he hugged him close to his chest. “I was awful to you yesterday, Y/N is going to leave us, I know it, and I hate to be the one to do this to you. If you want to leave me I will understand”

James scoffed. “Leave you? You really think we are this heartless? We know you didn’t want to act like that, Sirius. We just want to know what is happening, and then we’ll go and apologize to Y/N”

Remus scratched his head. “Thing is, I don’t know how we will get to her. I went to her room earlier and Cas was about to physically fight me”

“She won’t fight us, Rem, for God’s sake we’re Y/N’s boyfriends, she can’t stand between us. Back to you, Sirius, can you tell us why you acted that way?”

The long-haired man sighed. “It’s just- You know how awful the relationship with my family is, and I know it’s wrong but when I get their letters I don’t want to talk about it, I just expect everyone to know how I’m feeling and what to do about it. So, when she wasn’t there for me this time, I lashed out. Rationally, I know that Remus wasn’t being clingy because he didn’t want to share her, but because he gets super protective during the full moon. I hate myself for treating her that way, for using her weakness against  her, but I didn’t know how to communicate how I was feeling, so I just took my anger out on her, in the wrong way” He chuckled sadly. “If I was her, I’d break up with me.”

James shook his head. “She’s too good for her own good, Sirius, you know she won’t ever leave you. But we’ll have to talk it out, you know? You’ll have to be vulnerable, and I know  it’s difficult, but you’ll have to try for us”

Sirius nodded, everything for you. James pulled out the map, but as soon as he saw your name, gasped.

“What? What have you seen?”

“Y/N is in the infirmary” They exchanged a look, running out of their dorm room.

[tootiecakes234]

Warning: NSFW

Character aged up

You ask Katsuki if you can paint his PP🤭:

“No! Get the hell away from me!” And he starts walking away from you.

“But Katsuki! I’d make it so pretty. I already have a vision in mind. I want to paint it into a microphone! Maybe sing a song into it.” You say following behind him, positive you aren’t helping your situation.

“Y/N if you don’t get away from me right now, we are breaking up. I’m packing my shit and leaving and you’ll never see me ever again! I meant it.” And he plops down on the couch with an exaggerated groan. “You’ve lost your entire fucking mind, smooth brain.”

You know you’re gonna have to grovel for this one. You try to slide yourself onto his lap, but he pushes you off and you bounce a little on the couch cushions.

“No, you’re not kissing and snuggling your way into this. I’m not letting you practice your goddamn painting skills on my dick. Where do you even come up with this shit?” He says now looking at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“Well I was scrolling on TikTok-“

“And there it goes. I’m not even surprised.”

You lean over and run your hands over the his wide chest and buff arms.

“‘Suki when you think about, a microphone is only two colors. Black and grey. It would only take me like 5 minutes.” And then you start pressing kisses to his neck. “Pretty please. I’ll even hop in the shower with you after and help you clean up.” There’s a sultry lilt to your voice. This is something you pull out all the weapons in your arsenal for.

“Y/N i go along with a lot of your dumbass ideas, but I’m drawing the line. No paint on my d-dick. Fuck, cut it out.” You had slipped your hands down his stomach and right under the shorts he had on.

“But it’ll be easier to paint if its hard Kat, don’t ya think?” You whisper up against his ear. You run your thumb over the top and smear the precum over his slit.

“Ugghhh. I hate you, you know that.” He groans really low.

“Mmmmhhh. Pretty please,” you say and stroke down to the base of his cock and then back up. “With a cherry on top.”

“You have 10 f-fucking minutes! And that paint better be safe for skin or I swear to god!” He shouts at you.

You’re up and off the couch before he can even finish that sentence and within a minute you’re back with the paint you already had prepared and brushes.

You get down on your knees, in between his legs, and place your supplies on the ground next you. For him to be so against it, he’s already pulled off his shirt and underwear. He’s accepted his fate.

“Okay, if any of the brushes are uncomfortable or the paints don’t feel good, let me know k?” You say looking up at him.

This man has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring daggers into you.

“What the hell ever woman. Hurry up, your time’s tickin.”

So you pick up a big fluffy brush and dip it into the black paint before you start working on the base of his dick.

As soon as the brush touches against his skin Katsuki screams bloody murder. Its scared the hell out of you and you’re surprised at yourself that you don’t drop the damn brush and get paint everywhere.

When you look up at him to ask him what’s wrong the bastard has a smirk on his goddamn face his shoulder are shaking because he’s holding in his laughter.

“You should’ve seen yourself. Your entire body took a screenshot. I thought you might go into shock.” Now he’s outwardly laughing loud as fuck.

He thinks he’s such a comedian. Well too bad for him because we’re a freakin party clown.

While he’s still laughing you bend down and take the head of his cock in your mouth and swirl your tongue all over it.

His laugh is cut short and you look up to see him squeezing his eyes shut. You pull your head back up and give him a sweet smile.

“So now, how about you cut out the jokes and let me focus on my masterpiece.” And you hear him grumble back some kind of rude response but you take that as an understanding.

You breathe and try to gain your composure before you start back on the task in front of you. You again start at the base of his cock and then do long stokes upwards until you get right below the shroomed tip.

You’re about halfway through when you notice his cock twitching and leaking pre all over.

Oh my gosh he likes this. Or it at least feels good because damn. When you look up at him there’s a blush covering his face and his lips are tight like he’s trying to hold in sounds that might escape. His eyes though are trained on the brush in your hand as you work.

You were about to speak when he cut you off, “Don’t. Just hurry up and finish”

“Yes sir” you say slyly as your start working on the other side.

“Ok. Base is done. Now the tip, I know how sensitive you are so I’ll try to be gentle.” And now you’re the one with a smirk on your face. “Look I can’t paint correctly if there’s precum constantly leaking up here.”

“The fuck do you want me to do. I’m not making it leak out on purpose.” He rolls his eyes at, throws his head back and uses his arm to cover his face. Hes not quick enough to cover the blush that’s dusting his cheeks.

It’s so funny that he still get embarrassed in front of you. You take your thumb and lightly run it over the top to pick up as much pre as possible then you pop it in your mouth. Then you get to work.

You dab lightly around it and make sure to avoid the opening. You hear Katsuki’s breath become more ragged.

“Ok, I’m all done. Take a look.” He removes his arms and leans his head back up. You see that his eyes are blown but you try to ignore it for now. “Do you see the vision?”

“This is so dumb.” Is the only answer you get from him.

Next thing you know you’ve wrapped your hand around it and you start singing. “ANNNNDDDDD IIIIIIIII—eeeee-IIIIII will always love Y-“

You’re cut off because he’s gotten up grabbing you with him and now you’re thrown over his shoulder.

“I’m done with this. Not about to watch you sing Karaoke into my penis. You promised me a shower.”he says as he starts striding toward the bathroom.

“But I wasn’t done! I wanted to take pictures and maybe rap a verse or two. Kats wait dammit.”

“No. I was nice. I let you play and have your fun. Now it’s my turn to play around and have some fun.” You can hear the smug grin on his face.

You take this opportunity and slap his naked ass hard asf. You were right outside the bathroom door and the jerk sets you on your feet so quickly you feel like you’re gonna fall.

“You’re gonna pay for that brat.”

And oh do you pay for it.😭

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @i-literally-cant-with-this @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife

*I have a tag list. Let me know if you wanna be added💕🤗

[solpng]

all these incidents w dream and hyuck just reminds me of all the bs clowning i had to tolerate as an overweight kid/teen from my own "friends"

[zyafics]

i love love love your writing<3

rq: rafe had came up to tanneyhill's balcony for some peace at his own party. though he didn’t expect reader to be there, looking utterly lost. he knows reader is new. seen you before, too, hanging out with sarah’s crowd; under a pogue’s arm whenever they see him around, telling you rafe isn't anything worth talking, or interacting with.

first off, i am so sorry it took me so long to get this done (as with a lot of my requests) but thank you so much for enjoying my writing!! 🩷 i hope i do this prompt justice (literally shaking in my boots as i post this 😭)

ANGRY GOD | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (oneshot/mini series) | x Female Reader

Content — fluff, angst, Rafe spiraling (S2 Canons), Enemies Tension, Rafe growing possessive of Reader. Word Count — 3.2K.

Dedication — to @mintforadollar who listened to me rant about this plot a month ago, only for it to now be completed <3. Prompt credited to this on c.ai!

lıllılı Champagne Coast by Blood Orange

Rafe wants to be alone.

His mind is caught in a tailspin, muscles singing with ache from his latest altercation. It didn't help that the fucker managed to get some good swings in, ripples of pain spread from his jawline to his left eye. When he enters the second floor of Tannyhill, all he wants is to catch a breath of fresh air away from the party. His party.

He didn't expect to see you.

"Out." Rafe commands gruffly. You flinch at his abrupt command. "Second floor is off-limits."

He adds nothing else as he marches over to the edge of the balcony, digging his scraped palms into the smooth ridges of the handrails. He didn't want anyone here to witness the brunt of his frustration and disappointment, or how his mind swims with disoriented and incoherent thoughts. He wants to be alone.

But you won't let him.

Cautiously, you take a step forward—not in the direction of the exit, as he hoped—but towards Rafe instead. Lifting his head at the sound of your faint footsteps, agitation flushing through his expression at your proximity. "Didn't I tell you to get out?"

"You got into a fight." You mumble your observation, examining his hardened profile to discover the bruise that decorates his jawline, swelling with discoloration, the darkening under his left eye, and the split of open skin right above his brow.

He scoffs. "No shit."

"And you're bleeding."

He is? He didn't know that. All consumed by the adrenaline rushing through his system—that has yet to wind down—Rafe lifts his hand to run his fingers over the most prominent aches around his face. When he presses against something wet, he withdraws, finding a fresh coat of blood over his fingertips.

Rafe grimaces at the sight—not the blood, he's used to that—but the fact that his opponent succeeded in cutting him too.

Now, he definitely doesn't want you here. Before Rafe has the chance to kick you out the third time, you offer assistance. "I can help," you say meekly, messing with the hems of your top.

He didn't catch it over the loud thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "What?"

"I can help," you repeat, louder this time, wincing at the projection of your own voice. You don't like the strain in your tone, the desperation seeping through. You'd do anything to avoid returning to the party. "I know how to patch up wounds. I'm training to be an EMT."

"I didn't ask for a life story." He snaps, a mechanical response to any aid. The idea of someone taking care of him is unheard of; unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to react other than complete and utter rejection. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Rafe assumes his harsh words would drive you away. The bite behind each syllable has been enough to scare off everyone else but you remain firm in your position. If anything, your expression softens, eyes washing over his rigid posture with a sympathetic look. He hates it.

"I know," you start slowly, eyes cascading down his face, carefully monitoring his reaction. "But... wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to?"

His expression breaks.

Your kindness strikes directly to his chest and his heart clutches at the way you address him. With humanity. Even when he's been nothing but a complete asshole to you, demanding your departure, you respond with a sense of warmth. Rafe clenches down his jaw.

When he doesn't answer quickly enough, a sign of his contemplation, you add. "Please."

Reluctantly, Rafe gives in. "Fine."

Rafe moves from the balcony deck to reenter Tannyhill, not bothering to check if you're following behind. He heads straight to the ensuite connected to his bedroom, checking under the sink for his first aid kit, before throwing the box over the counter.

That's when he catches a glimpse of himself through the mirror, the ugly bruising that lines his face, the dried blood that stains his temple. His jaw tightens at the sight.

You enter shortly after, seeing him with his back to the mirror, his spine pressed against the rim of the porcelain sink. Your eyes do a quick sweep of your surroundings, before landing on Rafe and his rigid form, arms crossed over his chest, and a cold look on his face. He just wants to get this over with.

You glance outside, to his room, with its openness, before meeting his gaze. "Can we go to your bed?"

His answer is immediate. "No."

You frown but ask nothing more. Rafe's trying to make this difficult for you, refusing to cooperate because it's easier than submitting to your grace. Easier than admitting he'd like the help. You work around that.

Grabbing the antiseptics from the kit, you proceed to clean his wounds, softly massaging his flesh in the process. For a moment, it feels too good and Rafe fights the urge to lean into your hand before a sharp pain rips through him from the open cut and he hisses.

You immediately pull back, mumbling a quick apology.

His eyes squeeze shut, it takes a moment for the throb to cool down, and once it does, Rafe reconnects his gaze with yours to find the remorseful look behind your stare, the softening of your features met with utmost concern. You don't make another move to try again.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." He bites out, wanting to rid you of that look. He's not weak. Stop looking at him as if he is. Despite the reassurance, you have yet to continue. "You're not going to be a good doctor if you shy away every time your patient gets hurt."

"I feel bad." You admit, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Why? You didn't do this."

He's the one who got into the fight. The one who swung first. While he may have won in the end, having knocked out the guy in the middle of the yard, it doesn't neglect the damage done to him in the process. But, at the end of the day, it's his fault.

You don't see it that way. "Because you're hurting."

You're too soft. That's what Rafe determines. Every little moment, little sprouts of empathy, every inch of sensitivity, is going to hurt you in the end. It won't save anything.

"I don't need your pity," Rafe snaps, giving you the first taste of reality under his razor-sharp tongue. He could be considerate, and understanding, but he isn't. That's how he learned.

"It's not—" You sigh. You don't want to argue and relent against his jabs. Without further commentary, you continue forward with your duties: aiding in his treatment and biting through the humane urge to sympathize with his pain.

Rafe takes the silence to observe you while you work. He knows you grew quiet because of his rough manners, and he won't lie to himself and say he enjoys it. He doesn't. But it adds to the list of everything else he has done wrong in his life; his long string of failures that his father can't wait to remind him of.

In the quietness, Rafe recognizes something about you. It takes a moment, after all the aches and throbs, but the recognition dawns on him that you're new. You hang out with his sister, Sarah, and the rest of the filthy group of no-good Pogues on the other side of the island. There have even been occasions when he saw you under JJ's arm, slinging around red solo cups and a grim soak of southside.

"Where's your friends?" Rafe asks, surprising you with the roughness behind his voice.

You lift your gaze to his. "Hmm?"

"The Pogues. Don't you hang out with them?"

You swallow hard, feeling like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You hoped your newcomer status would be enough to shield yourself from Rafe's wraith, especially his hatred towards your selected group. "Why?"

Rafe immediately picks up on the shift in your demeanor, the rigidness in your shoulders that tells him exactly what he needs to know. "You've heard about me, haven't you?"

You hesitate to answer. Rafe presses on. "What'd they say?"

Your friends have told you many warnings about the notorious Rafe Cameron. It all comes down to one conclusion: he's dangerous. He's irrational, self-centered, and narcissistic. He isn't worth talking to because all he cares about is himself.

However, you like to find out for yourself.

Rafe leans forward, lowering himself to meet your height and his face is right in front of yours. An arrogant smirk rises to his lips, a challenge for you to answer. "Come on, princess, don't tell you came up here without doing a bit of research beforehand."

You recognize this as a facade, a way for him to hide his true feelings because it's easier to disturb others. To mess with people and not reflect on your own. You place a hand against the solid of his chest and gently push him back, forcing him to reinstate the safe distance established before. You continue back to your line of work.

Your little push surprises Rafe. It also intrigues him too.

"They said you weren't worth talking to," you say softly, avoiding eye contact as he follows your every move. "That you're dangerous."

He scoffs at the reveal, but it pinches his heart that his own sister would agree. He values her opinion more than he'd like to admit. Drawing out a noncommital shrug, pretending not to care, he declares. "They're right."

You hum. "Maybe."

He looks directly at you with a raised brow. "Maybe?"

Your eyes finally connect with his, "I'm still figuring that out." You pull back, setting the supplies back into his aid box. "Done."

You're about to take a step back when Rafe grabs your wrist, holding you in place. Your breath shortens, and you peer down at the place of your contact before raising your gaze to his.

"What do you mean by that?" He demands, his expression hardens but his eyes are pleading. That juxtaposition, between who he is and what he wants, is the exact thing you're trying to uncover.

You aren't afraid of him. Not like the others.

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, sweeping over his face, reading the conflict his features can't seem to contain. Rafe, you're slowly unraveling, is someone who puts his heart on his sleeves. He just hasn't had anyone who cares enough to look for it. "I just don't know if I truly believe that."

"Why not? The rest of the island does."

It's almost a spiral. An edge closer to it. You think it's because Rafe finally has someone who looks past his mask, his deception that the rest of the island gladly takes. They're afraid of him; he engineered that reputation by hand. But you've met your fair share of burnt souls to know they're all worth saving.

You answer him.

"Your eyes." You explain gently. "They say it's the windows to someone's soul."

"And?"

"And, Rafe Cameron, you're someone who isn't as heartless as you'd like the rest of the world to believe."

His grip loosens from your words and you take the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and settle your arms by your side. Rafe watches as you offer him a soft smile, one that reaches your eyes, and you're about to return to the balcony deck for some peace when he follows you into his bedroom.

"That's not fair." He denounces, halting your exit.

You turn around to face him. "What is?"

"You can't come in here and make those assumptions. You don't know shit about my life."

Rafe doesn't like to be read so clearly; to know that whatever he's trying to front isn't deluding you. For some reason, he needs to convince you that every rumor and gossip is true. That he is bad. The idea of it is embedded so deeply into the crevices of his self-worth, that he's having a hard time believing anything else.

Rafe expects your reaction to meet his fury, but the slope of your brows furrow together calmly. A delicate practice over years of training. "I never said I did."

"You're acting like you do."

You frown. "Now you're making assumptions about me," you refute, pointing out his hypocrisy, and a tinge of sharpness slips through. "You asked and I answered. You can't be mad because you don't like them."

"Then why?" He snaps, irritation spewing with his venom. "Who the fuck are you to make that judgment?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear my life story."

He huffs. Rafe finds himself at a crossroads. While you're standing there, with your collected composure, he feels like he's unraveling by the seams. There's something about you. The way you read through him like glass. He doesn't know if he likes it or not. If he needs it or not.

"Bitch," he mutters under his breath at your lack of compliance, and your breath hitches at the term, a flash of anger goes through you like a surge. He recognized that look; it was something he was all too familiar with.

You turn around, about to sprint for the exit once again when Rafe calls out. "Wait."

You don't want to turn around this time. Rafe had managed to make you break through your own facade, your own composure that you spent years trying to cultivate. Something about being in the same room as the eldest Cameron makes you regress into your formative years.

"Turn around."

Your jaw is slighted, but you try to hold it together. You loosen your features before you turn on your heel. You still don't think Rafe is the person he's trying to present to the world, and you doubt that he truly carries that much cruelty in one body, but that doesn't mean you have to be in the same room as him.

But something made you stay.

Rafe crosses the large space, standing just in front of you. His breath is hot against yours, his eyes sharp. You tilt your head, meeting his stare, but to contrast his intensity, your gaze is soft yet firm, your eyes unwavering. Just because you are kinder than he is doesn't mean you are weak.

"You know what it's like, don't you?" He murmurs gruffly, his voice straining at the exposure. This questioning also carries the weight of admission underneath; to bridge a kinship. "Or are you a liar?"

You're not. But no one's ever asked the questions Rafe is asking either. Not your friends back home or the new ones with the Pogues. They treasure your friendship but they don't understand your depth.

"No."

"No, what?"

"I'm not a liar," you bite out. Rafe's mouth curls into a satisfactory smile, and he gets a glimpse of your real character. The true you underneath all that dignity. It's like his own dirty secret. "I know."

You saw through Rafe because you understood him. You shared the same sentiments. You groomed the same callousness. Every act he performs, you went through first. You can't point at his reflection without looking at the mirror yourself.

But you're a bit different. You learn to control it. You discovered that all that anger was something else. Hurt, pain, injustice. You take it all and put it in a box, caged behind thick chains and hard locks. Never to be touched again. Rafe takes it out to the open, free to play. You may come from the same origin but you take two different routes.

However, Rafe sees you much clearer now. To know you can understand him, see through his perspective, and filter out his incoherent thoughts. That's something he'd never experienced before in his life.

"The voices, anger, and impulses?" His voice shrinks, eyes searching yours. You hesitate before nodding once. "You get that too?"

It comes out when you're most hurt. "I do."

He feels like can breathe for once, to not feel completely isolated from the rest of the world. Rafe always feels off, like something is wrong with him. Nothing can be explained; nothing is allowed to be explored. Even when he sought therapy, his father denied his request. He thought he‘d be forever alone in all this.

He steps forward, closing in the distance until there's only an inch of space separating you. But even that feels too big. Oxygen stuck in your throat, Rafe connects his gaze with yours to whisper. "You're like me, aren't you?"

You swallow hard. You didn't realize understanding someone could be a reflection of your own damning soul. You don't know if it's a good thing. "Yes."

His pupils are dilated and nearly pitch-black. His breathing shortens, and his gaze pools with desire. You feel it too. Your heart accelerates beneath your ribcage, your stomach knotting with want. When Rafe leans forward, about to capture your lips on his, you ready yourself to let it all in.

But you're a bit different.

You turn your head away at the last second, his contact coming to your cheek.

"I'm..." You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. "I'm with JJ."

The world stills on its axis, and you feel the gravity of it beneath your feet. You slowly peel your eyes open, only to find Rafe having pulled back, his hand, midway through the air to hold your chin, closes into a tight fist.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes swimming with regret.

The look on his face is heartbreaking because you know him in parallel, you know what he's feeling. You take a step back, for your sanity or his, it’s unclear. All you know is the distance was safe. Until it wasn't.

"I should go." You whisper.

Rafe says nothing as you pad your way across his room, slipping out of the door. He remains motionless in the same spot, his jaw set, his fists clenched by his side. The adrenaline pulses return through his veins.

Fuck.

It takes a minute to gather himself. Hearing nothing but the throbbing bass beneath him, pulsing through the floor. His heart is wretched, his stomach full of nausea.

Rafe returns to the balcony to pull away from his room, the place where you had been, and he steps closer to the ledge. Everything in his mind is too quiet; sterile and white-screeching. He doesn't know how to fathom this change.

His blue eyes search across the lawn and he easily picks you out of the crowd. He knows you well now. Those brief, fleeting moments attached to his soul are permanent memories.

You rejoined the party with Sarah and the rest of the Pogues, while JJ saunters over and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and whispering something in your ear. You smile and laugh, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

When you look up, you find Rafe already watching. His eyes are set on yours, unmoving, and the intimacy of his gaze strikes something deep. You had to turn away to preserve yourself.

Rafe slowly comes to his understanding on his own. He never had someone who understood him, much less in such a short time. You unravel him behind gentle stares and quiet observations. You knew him because you knew yourself, and he doesn't want to lose that. He doesn't want to lose you. He can’t. 

So, he decided.

You weren't his.

But he's taking you anyways.

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[that-one-banger-of-a-rhcp-song]

rodrick headcannons cuz i can

Warnings: mentions of drugs

Poor dude, he can’t handle spicy stuff

^Like, cayenne, paprika, and ‘franks red hot’ is the only shit he can handle.

Eats popcorn with so much butter it could kill you.

^Also, with pepper(please try it its so good)

Thinks manny’s weird

Dyslexic but we all knew that.

Will ask to borrow your eyeliner.

Random ass make-outs

^Will literally pull you into a closet just to give you a hickey and shove his tongue down your throat

Actually very respectful

Yall share earbuds cuz he forgets his

^If you have airpods, you sneak them into class and listen together.

Tries to write you a song.

Random dates

^You go to a gas station or some shit and raid the place

^One time he accidentally bought CBD oil honey sticks(they sell them where i'm from) and yall got high af

Little spoon

His favourite way to cuddle is when you lay on your side and hold his head/face into the crook of your neck

^Oh my god, the neck kisses

Dog person

Golden retriever boyfriend lookin ass

He will follow you around like a lost puppy. It's so cute.

Sucks ASS at guitar hero

Study dates 

^He hates them and tries to make-out instead (valid)

He’s so soft and gentle with you

^One time he thought you were greg (you poked the small of his back) and he turned around and bitch slapped you.

He saw you tearing up and he bent down and cupped you face gently (think trying not to break a family heirloom??) and he cried rather than you

There's this spot on the small of his back that is really sensitive and if you poke it he jumps and whirls around and its super cute.

He started showering a lot more when you started dating.

His family likes you

^Frank never thought Rodrick would ever get a partner

He can actually sing but its more of the scratchy emo voice, not the smooth/clean high pitched justin beiber voice.

Do his eyeliner for him

^Do it I dare you

I beg you, run your hands/fingers through his hair.