#* You take the man out of the city not the city out the man for real!!!

[ridingthatd]

❝ YOUR DAD'S FRIEND ❞

farmer! toji x succubus! reader ft. gojo

➨ succubus : female sexual demon that feeds on a male sexual desire in their sleep.

your parents were divorced. so it was normal for you to spend the whole summer with your dad, back in the village he lives in. but what wasn't normal is getting fucked by the farmer next door who happens to be your father's friend, fushiguro.

warning : heavy smut, kinky, breeding, a lot of cum, squirting, daddy kink, dilf kink, anal sex, degrading, public sex, piss kink, a lot of fluid kink, spit kink, wet tongue kissing, toji is obsessed, pussy talk, dirty talk, fat cock, etc...

you were a succubus. a sex demon.

well maybe half demon? since your mother who's a succubus fell in love with your dad who's a human. he never knew what your mom was she kept it a secret. but her little secret was getting to dangerous once she found out that she was pregnant with you, that's when she decided to divorce your dad. breaking her heart and his heart but what was done had to be done.

your mom had full custody over you, but you still visited your dad from time to time. once you hit eighteen it was time for your mom to teach you about her little secret, after all you were just like her a demon.

a demon who feeds of people sexual desire to survive.

at first it was weird, instead of sleeping at night like any normal human do ; you were wide awake creeping in their dreams. it was weird how lifeless you felt if you didn't absorb energy through sexual dreams. it was weird how high you felt as your pussy suck the life out of a man's cock.

you're 20 now you got used to the way you are. you have a couple of friends who were just like you so you didn't really feel alone, gossiping about how kinky the quiet classmate that you fucked in his dreams was or about how your annoying teacher liked to be pegged in his dreams. college life was fun.

"sooooo you're going to your father's boring ass village this summer?". your friend gojo questions you as he wrap his arm around your shoulder.

you nudge his arm off you in disgust.

"don't put your arm on me! I don't want to touch you after knowing you fucked our old ass lunch lady in her dreams last night!". you shiver in pure disgust while glaring at him. 8shoko laughs next you as she stares at satorus heart broken face.

"hey! it's not my fault she wanted me so bad". he pouts at you before pulling you toward him by the waist and holding you tight.

you sigh before giving into his tight hold.

"do you really have to go to the bum village this summer?". shoko mutters out as she places the cigarette on her wet lips.

"yea I really don't have a choice but I promise I'll be texting you guys". gojo grunts disappointed at the fact you won't be partying with them this summer.

you hear mei mei heels clicking behind you as she makes her way toward the table. "what if I just distracted your dad by fuckin-".

"NO!". you immediately scream out in horror on the average of tears at the idea causing the whole group to laugh out.

"just promise you'll be keeping us updated". gojo firmly says, his hands gripping your waist harder, pulling you closer to him.

you knew satoru cared about you a lot and he would do anything to make sure you're safe and protected.

you node before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, not noticing the way gojo flushes and his head drops hiding his face behind his white hair.

"i promise".

you take a deep breath in admiring your fathers small house. you were finally here in the village, you miss your friends already but you didn't hate it here. the air was fresher then the city toxic air and the sky was a lot clearer. you were found of the cold breeze that was hitting your body.

"do you like it?". your father nervously ask making your eyes soften, he always wants what's the best for you. you quickly node smiling at him.

"mhm- I love it!".

he let's out a relieved sigh before proudly shoving his hands into his pants pocket causing you to giggle.

"I'm glad you like it, I worked pretty hard on it with a help of a really good friend". he puffs his chest out, causing you to snort.

"oh here he is!". your dad speaks out, you shift your eyes to the truck car that was parking in the house next door. your breath hitch as the man behind the car makes his way out.

the man was tall and broad, his dark hair on display as he looked down pulling at his black tie, his other hand undoing the button of his blazer. his large veiny hands then moved to loosen the top buttons of the white dress shirt underneath, exposing the firm looking skin of his chest. it seemed like he wasn't comfortable or used to dressing like that.

it was only when he closed the door of his truck he looked up that your eyes widened.

Wow.

never had you seen a man so devilishly handsome. he was strong, you could tell that much, and not just in the physical sense. sure his broad frame and muscular physique was eye catching but his presence was utterly dominating and intimidating.

it was enough to have your pussy fluttering.

he had beautiful skin, and high defined cheekbones that complimented his strong jaw.

his striking dark blue eyes were cold and calculating, one of a powerful man who knew what he wanted and knew how to get it. and right now they were staring blankly at you, you could swear you saw a hint of lust behind them before they turned blank.

"i told you office work isn't meant for you fushiguro! you're meant to be a farmer". you hear your father jokingly talking to the man ahead of you.

fushiguro? so that's why he looked so uncomfortable in his cloth.

toji mutters out something to your dad that you couldn't really hear. your dad immediately turn his head toward you.

"oh! this is my daughter that I told you about". your father introduce him to you.

"this is toji fushiguro". toji simply looks at you his jaw clenching so hard likes he's trying to suppress something before he gaze at your dad listening to whatever crap he was telling him.

you sit awkwardly at the dinner table chewing on your food as you sneak a glance at fushiguro who sits across the table his huge forearm muscles flexing each time he takes a bite of his food.

little did you know that toji was fighting to control himself.

TOJI POV ;

fucking hell, toji groans in his thoughts as his fat cock twitch in his pants under the dinner table. how fucking disgusting of him getting hard at the dinner table because of his friends daughter, he doesn't know what you're doing to him. he hasn't been sexually active for years now and he has never experienced what he's feeling right now.

he feels like a pervert whenever the veins on his cock twitch as he take a glance at you. something about you feels so breedable to the point where his cock is itching to pound you, breed your dirty little pussy at the dinner table even while your dad is here.

he excuses himself to the bathroom, growling lowly as soon as he closes the door. he got to be losing his fucking mind toji thought to himself as he cup his raging fat cock through his pants.

he hisses at how sensitive it is as he pulls it out- the thickness of his tip was so red pumping with blood as precum leaks out of it.

he can't believe he's doing this right now, jerking off like a horny teenage boy in the bathroom but he can't go back while his cock is like this.

he takes a deep breath before looking around the bathroom for some sort of toilet paper so he can catch his cum when he finishes.

then his eyes land on something inside the washing machine. his cock press on his abdomen as he stares at the red thong in there.

no no he can't- you'll find out- his friend is going to find out for fuck sake.

but here he was his shirt lifted up holding it by his mouth as he huffs and drools on it while stroking his leaking cock with your thong.

fuck toji can't believe he's doing this but it was to good to resist, so good that it has his thighs shaking as he fuck into your thong. he can see his precum leaking through his tip and soaking the fabric.

oh how he wish he could force you to wear this thong once he fills it with his cum, keeping your little pussy warm. and this throws him off edge as robes of cum start shooting out of his fat cock into your thong.

painting it white just like he wished.

a knock was heard on the door causing toji relaxed body to tense.

"hey is everything alright man? we're going to sleep". toji sighs zipping his pants up and rinsing your thong under water making sure there's no drop of his cum left before placing it back where he found it.

"yea give me a minute". he huskly speaks out.

END OF POV.

you let out a deep sigh as you slam your body into the bed, something about your dads friend toji sleeping here tonight makes you excited for some reason.

you snort at your own thoughts before diving into someone's dream to feed off tonight.

you look around confused as you see yourself in the middle of a field. you can really make out where you were because of the tall grass.

you let out a loud gasp as you two rough hands gripping you by the waist and a warm breath fanning against your sensitive neck.

"caught you". a husky voice speaks out against your neck causing your legs to get weak as your heart beat faster once you feel his fat cock throbbing behind your ass cheeks.

he run his nose up your neck before reaching your ear and sucking on it in the most dirty way soaking it with his spit, his warm tongue peak out and trail your ear before reaching down your neck again but this time he bites on it.

you moan out in pain and pleasure, arching your ass into his cock as a reflex.

"hmmm you dirty fucking slut- rubbing yourself on my cock like that? what is your dad going to think hm?". he growls out, grabbing you by your hair and turning your face around.

your eyes widen once you realize who it is but it was already to late because his tongue was deep down your throat, swirling around every inch of your mouth as his large hands make their way inside your panties before shoving them down your legs.

he doesn't let you catch your breath once he pulls away from the kiss, bending you over on your knees before pushing your sundress over exposing your wet pussy.

"wait- ahhh!". he doesn't let you finish as he shove his finger deep inside your pussy grunting against your ass at how tight you are. toji couldn't help himself as he pull his already leaking cock out of his pants.

stroking his fat cock as his tongue peaks out leaking your clit before sucking it into his mouth. you can't believe this is happening.

you were in the middle of a field. on your knees, hands digging into the dirt as you feel tojis wet tongue swirling around your ass hole before sliding down to your bare pussy. his large rough hands gripping your plumpy ass, holding you in place as he devours your filthy pussy in the openness of this field.

"your dirty little pussy better water this fucking field with your squirt". tojis growls out as he graze his fangs on your clit while fisting his fat cock furiously behind you. you can hear the fapping sloppy filthy sound that tojis cock was making while he strokes, it was making your pussy even wetter to the point you weren't ashamed to mutter out your next words.

"and your cock better sow my fucking pussy with your seeds". and that's when toji lose it, he shoves his face completely into your ass.

you scream as you feel his nose entering your pussy, your eyes roll back you've never felt this before the combination of him sucking your clit while his nose fuck into your pussy was so deliciously dirty.

"yea give it to me". toji moans out his hand working harder on his cock as he feels you riding his nose, pushing back and forward against it. your juice was going everywhere from the force, his whole face was glazed.

"fuck-! too much I feel like I'm going to piss-! no more- ahhhhh". you start sobbing, you lost control over your body the pleasure was to much.

"yes-! yes-! you good fucking girl piss in daddy's mouth- piss in my mouth!". toji whines out his cock was starting to rut against your thighs.

your eyes roll back at his dirty words, not being able to hold it back anymore. you came with a force your clear piss landing in his mouth causing toji to groan in bliss at the feeling of your warm liquid. it was spilling and dripping down your thighs to his sensitive cock.

"i-! mmmmmmm, it's soooo good I can't-! I can't-!". your thighs shake as your hot juice spurt out of your pussy landing everywhere. toji couldn't hold his groaning anymore as he drinks in your squirt, it was so much so much. your hot liquid was dripping down his face while his cum was already spilled on his hand.

you were shaking, your body giving out but toji wasn't done with you. he stands up and hold your face with his cum filled hand smearing it on your red lips.

"does my little baby want daddy to take care of her?". he coo at you shoving a thumb in your mouth and you immediately suck on it, whinning as you taste his salty cum.

"shhhh let daddy do the work". he shushs you picking up your body and holding you into his arms. you place your head into his chest whimpering as you feel his fat cock ripping through your pussy.

"I know I know daddy's cock is to big? hm?". you sob feeling your pussy stretching fully trying to adjust to how thick his cock was.

"i- ahhhhh! mmmmmmmm!" you couldn't form out your words, you could feel every inch of his cock, his throbbing veins, his fat tip finally hitting your cervix. your body shakes against his, his cock was so thick so good.

"here baby? right here?". he grunts rutting his hips up, bouncing you on his dick. you were a mess drooling fucked out of your mind. toji growls before ripping your top off and diving into your bouncing boobs taking one of your fat nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while his fat tip dive into the gummy walls of your pussy.

"gonna cum-! please". you sob out.

toji halt his movement pulling his hard dick out ripping a whine out of you before placing your body on the ground.

he hold both of your legs giving your ankles a wet kiss before placing them on his board shoulder as he sloppily tap his fat cock on your clit.

"tell me what do you want from daddy hm?". he breaths out trailing kissing on your feets.

"I want you inside- please! please-". you whine wiggling your bottom at him. toji hums before place his rough hand on your belly pressing his hand there as he questions.

"you want daddy here? hm? you want his cock to fill your belly?". you moan out at his dirty words eagerly noding your head.

toji doesn't hesitate as he shoves his cock fully inside in one go, reaching your insides before pulling out and doing the same again. your body was being shoved away by the force of his thrusts but toji growls holding you back into his cock by your feets.

you were so close so close to squirting all over his cock. you were going to-

"having fun without me?". you hear your friends voice gojo.

you gasp as you find yourself in your room again sweat coating your body.

what the fuck just happened.

taglist : @mikyapixie @renaimel @hikaako @ourfinalisation @justbelljust @sarcasticbitchsblog @sesshomarunrin @phoenixflames498 @cloudserenity @c0ckdrunkk

[bee-whistler]

I understand that he later regretted the film, once the truth about the Holocaust was known. I hope he died understanding that there was nothing to regret.

The humor in the movie was either centered around the barber’s complete unawareness of the atrocities that had been taking place (he’d been hospitalized since WWI head trauma and had finally recovered and been released) or were direct and savage mockeries of the dictators and their lackeys.

The way the Nazis were portrayed (in this case though, the swastika and the name of their party was The Double Cross, lol, as seen on his armband) was very much in line with what would have been seen in the cities at that time. There’s a brief view of a prison camp that was of course far nicer than the reality, but the rest is actually not bad.

Fact is, if you look at this film and think that his interpretation was far less brutal than the truth, it only damns the Nazis more. Even with the humorous aspects, this film portrays a level of cruelty and injustice that is already so starkly and obviously wrong to the eyes of any decent and civilized society that you’d wonder how it isn’t in fact exaggerating the truth.

To then find out that it’s almost the child-friendly version of what really happened should be enough to tell you that Nazis were the darkest and lowest of humanity. Fascism is thuggery, cruelty, hate and cold blooded murder, portraying human beings as disposable and harmful in order to gain power and wealth and control over masses who have been convinced that there is an enemy in every man, woman and little child of another group of living, breathing human beings. Fascism tells you that only it can protect you, that the sacrifice of freedom to their authority is in fact a choice you made to protect the people, land and principles that you love. Fascism is a large and elaborate con game.

The principles I most love include liberty for all, humanity for all. And I love this movie so much, for the humor, the innocence, the sharp wit and unrestrained ridicule of those dictators for what they really were… petty conmen who figured out the right dog whistles to control countries. They weren’t great, weren’t special… just convincing, morally bankrupt liars who happened to be at the right place at the right time.

And that’s something we’re seeing a lot of today. Here’s hoping that the inherent resistance of the American spirit to kings and monarchs will be enough to keep them from taking total control, because clearly more than half the country is slow to learn. After all, half of all people have below average intelligence.

Sorry, I’m passionate about movies and about current events! But yeah… Chaplin created a masterpiece, and I just hope someone told him so while they could.

Because someone is on the ball, Turner Classic is playing (among other WWII films) The Great Dictator today.

If you haven't seen it, please do. It was produced by Charlie Chaplin in the late 1930s, when it became clear that the war was going to happen, and came out in 1940 after it had started. Essentially, Chaplin realized that his famous mustache was about to be usurped forever by a fascist, and that fascist was going to kill a lot more people in the future than he had already.

It's a parody, made before the worst horrors of the Nazi regime were known to the general public, so there is discomfort here (if you've seen Disney's Der Fuhrer's Face, you'll get the idea), but the movie ends with Chaplin essentially saying "fuck it, no one else seems to be speaking out about this and I'm going to use my platform to do that."

For context, this character is a Jew who has been mistaken for the dictator (for obvious mustache-related reasons), and has been sent onstage at a rally to give a speech. Instead of trying to impersonate Hitler, he says what he really thinks. And keep in mind, Chaplin was coming out of semi-retirement for this. It was the first time most people had ever heard him speak, and this is what he said:

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are

We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City. Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.

Wrong.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.

Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.

Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.

Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!

Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.

And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.

They were never fair.

As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.

It can't be.

[4zayne]

𐙚 — you look just like a dream.

⟢ summary: headcanons of zayne as your boyfriend!

꒰ pairing ꒱ : zayne (love and deepspace) x fem!reader

꒰ word count ꒱ : 417 (short again..)

author's note 𑁤 : zayne my baby 😭 i love him so much and had to do some hcs for him too :3 lmk if you'd like to see more of these for the others! i'm gonna try and get some more stuff out trust <3

zayne loves shopping with you (despite how long you guys shop for and the amount of bags you leave with). he loves buying you things, whether it be cute clothes, jewelry, food. he just enjoys seeing your pretty smile.

zayne always has his guard down around you. he finds himself vulnerable when he’s with you, it’s like all walls and barriers disappear and he can just be himself and enjoy your company without having to worry about anything.

zayne reluctantly goes to cat cafes with you whenever you pass by one. he’s not very good with cats and they often run away from him, but it’s the opposite with you. they seem to love you, and they don’t mind him when your around so he supposes it's not that bad. 

zayne helps blowdry your hair after you shower, making you stand still in front of the bathroom mirror while still in your bathrobe. he enjoys doing these little things for you, it’s the least he can do since you’re so good to him.

zayne is always keeping an eye on you. mostly for health related reasons since sometimes you forget to take your medicine or don’t keep up with your weekly checkups. and when that happens, he’s often scolding you and making sure you take your medication on time and setting alarms on your phone so you don’t miss your appointments. 

zayne also knows when you’re on your period. once learning about your menstrual cramps and whatnot due to research and prior knowledge of it, as well as your mood swings, he’ll already have stuff prepared for you. pads, chocolate, red date tea, a heating pad: you name it. he’ll also massage your stomach whenever certain remedies don’t work or when he just wants to, just being next to you to comfort you and help you feel better is enough for him. 

zayne loves taking late night strolls with you. when it’s cold outside and you’ve forgotten your gloves at home, he’ll slip your hand into his pocket while holding your hand in his own. enjoying the scenery of the city, the bright lights, the way they reflect off your eyes, that happy expression on your face when you see a food stand with a delicious menu. it reminds him of how lucky of a man he is to have you, a man with a heart that constantly suffers from a great frost that you manage to melt with your warm touch. you're his dream come true.

© 4zayne do not reuse or translate without my permission!

[livelaughlou]

I wish you would write a fic where buck and tommy meet when they both choose to hide behind the couch at chimney's surprise birthday party ❤️

I LOVE this so much. The timeline's kind of iffy, maybe consider this a total canon divergence? lol. I hope you like it.

"You're late!" Maddie hisses at him when he slides in the door, rushing up with Jee in her arms.

"I'm sorry!" he says. "There was an accident and I got stuck in it. You sent me across the city for a birthday cake!"

She rolls her eyes. "It's not my fault the bakery screwed up the first one."

He supposes she's got him there. Begging off to skip the basketball game that Eddie, Chimney, and Bobby had all gone to so he could help with the party was a blessing actually, because he hates basketball anyway.

She sighs. "Sorry, I snapped. He should be home with Eddie and Bobby any moment now, so come on, let's get everyone gathered in the living room."

He follows her into the living room, looking around to see all the guests there, Ravi, Lucy, Hen and Karen, other people from the station that were free tonight. And then his eyes land on the hottest person he's ever seen.

He's tall, broad-shouldered, and from what Buck can see, he's got a light dusting of stubble around a mouth that looks amused as he talks to Lucy. He's got high cheekbones and a straight nose on a face that Buck suddenly wants to see even more of.

He nudges his sister. "Mads, who's that?"

She looks over, sets Jee down. "Oh, Tommy Kinard. He's an old friend. They've kept in touch over the years."

Buck blinks. "Oh, can you-"

Then Maddie's phone goes off and she pulls it out, her eyes widening. "Okay, everyone they're here. Hide!"

Everyone in the room scrambles to hide while Maddie hits the lights.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that he's not alone behind Maddie and Chimney's couch.

"Um," he says stupidly. "Hi."

The guy--Tommy--grins, and oh God, it makes his nose and eyes scrunch up a little. Did Buck know that was a thing before? He doesn't think so. He hasn't had this strong of a reaction to someone since Abby and he doesn't quite know what that means that Tommy is a man.

"Hi," Tommy says, clearly still amused. He holds out a hand. "Tommy Kinard."

Buck takes it. His grip is warm, strong, and firm and Buck can feel the butterflies in his stomach. "Evan. Buck. Buckley."

Tommy frowns a little. "Sorry?"

Buck sighs at himself. "Sorry. You can call me Evan."

The front door opens and Chimney walks in. "Hello?"

And as everyone stands up to yell surprise, Buck thinks he may have just discovered a surprise of his own.

[zara-renata]

Good Boy | masterlist | ao3

@wearysparrows and i were talking this morning about dogs and work was really slow, so i just... wrote dog!sylus all day today. @leaderincrows is bursting with ideas for dog!sylus, but I only managed to fit some of them in this time (i'm so sorry, i hope you like anyway!). Maybe there needs to be more dog!sylus, i don't know. So voilà, I present you my very stupid take on the trope -> After a stray dog gets injured helping you in a fight against Wanderers, you take it home with you. Then one day, you wake up and find a man in your bed instead of your beloved dog. sylus x gn reader, sylus x mc. sylus acts like a real dog for 2/3ds of the fic. nsfw, there's penetrative sex, not with dog!sylus but with human!sylus (sylus penetrating), oral for both you and sylus, as a treat. Minor doggy injury, but he's fine. fluff, banter, teasing.

The snow is falling. Fat flakes, thick. The world is still, all sounds muffled under the blanket of snow covering the ground. 

The blood is bright on the snow, against the white. 

Your chest heaves as you stare down at the huge, beautiful dog. Wolf? You’re not sure. You’ve never been able to have a pet, never spent much time with animals. Wolf hybrids are outlawed within Linkon City limits, so you think it’s most likely that the injured animal before you is some kind of large shepherd dog. An albino, going by its red eyes, its long, silky looking thick coat of white fur, blending in with the snow.

Except for the blood.

Your Hunter’s watch alerted you to metaflux fluctuations while you were out with friends, in a park near the restaurant where you were having dinner. They stared, wide-eyed, as you stood up right as the main course arrived. 

“Duty calls,” you said.

Tara looked worried. “Why don’t you call for backup?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that big of a fluctuation. Xav’s sleeping, I’m not gonna wake him up for this.”

She glanced around at the group, gaze lingering on the guy whom she was trying to set you up with. “Okay…” she said, grimacing.

You knew you were going to get an earful for interrupting the blind date that Tara had arranged but you didn’t know you were attending when you arrived, in order to fight Wanderers. It was your night off too, after all. 

The guy seemed nice. Handsome. You just… felt nothing when you looked at him, when you listened to his small talk. You’d rather be out in the snow, risking your life.

Yeah, Tara might be right. There might be something wrong with you.

You were just bored, otherwise.

Without the adrenaline. The rush. The sense of accomplishment.

Most men you met just didn’t get it.

None of the men you met ever made your heart race, the way doing your job made it race.

Now, here you are. In the hushed, falling snow, staring down at the dog that just saved your ass from a surprise second Wanderer, while you were busy putting down the first.

The dog received a nasty swipe to its belly as a reward for its efforts.

It’s lying in the snow, curled in on itself, licking, licking.

You tuck your Deepspace Hunter standard issue firearms into your holsters, barrels still smoking in the cold. Crouch down into the snow, your boots crunching.

“Hey, buddy,” you say softly. One of the dog’s pretty, huge, pointy ears flicks in your direction, but it remains focused on tending its wound, its long tongue pink, its breath puffing in the frigid air.

You inch closer, waiting for a sign of defensive aggression, but the dog seems content to let you approach.

Finally, you’re crouched next to it. You lift your hand, and it lifts its head. It stares at you with its strange, bright red eyes. Bright, like the blood on the snow.

It sniffs your hand, nostrils flaring, and then lowers its head. As if deigning to allow you to pet it.

You stroke your fingers along its long snout, along its cheek. It huffs, closes its eyes.

“Can I see your tummy?” you ask, running your hand from its snout, down its shoulder, to rest on its side.

It lets you. Watches your hand, and then licks it.

You lean further, letting your hand rest on its leg. “I’m going to lift your leg now, take a look at your belly,” you inform it. It doesn’t move, so you take a chance, and do as you promised. 

The dog lets you.

Lifting the dog’s leg, you see it’s a boy, unneutered. You’re surprised. Most pets, unless they’re registered for breeding or are show animals, are required to be neutered or spayed in Linkon City. You wonder if he’s a stray. 

But your attention is caught by the long, shallow gash along his lower belly, where his thick, luxurious fur is the most thin. It’s not deep, but it’s bleeding quite a bit.

“You need to see a vet, buddy,” you tell the dog.

He growls, low in his throat. You still your hand, thinking maybe he changed his mind about you touching him. You lift your hand, but then he nudges it, butting it with his nose, as if demanding that you continue caressing him.

You laugh. “Okay. Okay.” You resume petting him. 

He’s not wearing a collar. There’s no way for you to know if he’s a stray, or has an owner to call, who can help come and collect him, to care for him. Based on how beautiful and healthy he looks, you doubt he’s a stray. But you can’t just leave him here.

You stroke his fur, while slowly reaching into your coat pocket for your phone.

You make a call. The answer is swift. A bit exasperated. You can imagine the man on the other end pinching his nose, nudging his glasses aside as he does so, long-suffering from yet another strange request from you.

“You do realize that I’m a cardiac surgeon, and not a veterinarian.”

You humor him. “Yes, yes. I will make it up to you, I promise.”

There is silence on the line. Then his soft, soothing voice. “There is a new bakery that recently opened. They specialize in macha desserts.”

He knows you hate macha. This is his way of punishing you.

You smile. “I’ll treat you. Come quickly.”

“I will.”

The dog’s eyes never leave yours, the whole time you’re on the phone.

Zayne is as good as his word.

He arrives quickly, striding through the thick snowfall, at home in the frigid cold, seemingly unbothered with his handsome wool coat only partially buttoned, his scarf hanging loosely around his neck.

The dog watches him, with his strange, strange eyes, but doesn’t act defensive. As if he knows that this man is here to help.

Zayne couches down next to you. Sighs.

“What happened?”

“Wanderer claws. No poison, or venom. Just the nasty gash there.” You gesture at the bleeding wound, the white fur crimson now, matted.

“Has he shown any signs of aggression?” 

You shake your head.

“All right, but that’s no guarantee he won’t react when I start working. I’ll sedate him.”

The dog growls, narrows his eyes. You have the funny feeling again that he can understand everything that’s happening to him, what you’re saying.

“I’ll hold his snout,” you blurt. 

Zayne frowns, slightly. “He could bite you. He could have an infectious disease. Absolutely not.”

You turn to the dog. “Focus on me, okay buddy? Dr. Zayne is gonna fix you right up. It might hurt, but you can handle it, right? You’re such a good boy.” You speak low, soft, soothingly. The dog’s ears swivel, flick. He whines when you say Good boy. He inches forward, painfully, in the snow to get closer to you. You rest your hands on either side of his big jaws, stare into his eyes. “Do it,” you tell Zayne. “Please.

All you hear is his frosty silence, before a resigned sigh.

The dog whimpers, but doesn’t snap, or otherwise react, as Zayne cleans his wound, stitches him up. As he wraps the clean bandages around the wound, covering the bloody, matted fur. The dog just looks into your eyes, panting, shows no sign of reacting poorly to the pain.

When it’s over, the dog closes his eyes. You run your hands from his muzzle down his neck, back through his thick fur.

“Good boy,” you say, again, softly. His long, fuzzy tail thumps weakly in the snow in response.

“He’ll need antibiotics. You’ll need to arrange for an actual vet for that.”

You nod. “Thanks.” Then pause. Grimace. “I need one more favor.”

Zayne stares at you, lovely hazel eyes flashing behind his glasses. “Do I even want to know?”

“I came here on my motorcycle, and I want to take him home. Make sure he recovers okay. Find his owner, hopefully.”

Zayne immediately understands what you’re asking and frowns again, more deeply. “No.”

“Pretty, pretty please?” You’re not above begging, wheedling like when you were children.

“The upholstery in my car cannot handle all that—” he waves a scarred hand at the lustrous, incredibly thick fur of the dog, and his long, sharp looking nails.

“I’ll pay for any detailing or damage your car might need, along with the macha bakery!” you offer, desperate. You don’t think any cab in the city will accept your not-wolf as a passenger.

Zayne stares down at the dog. His shoulders sag a bit.

“On one condition.”

You perk up. “Anything.”

“Take my scarf. You’re not even wearing a proper winter coat,” he scolds, sounding infinitely exhausted with your inability to properly take care of yourself. He turns to you, lifting the scarf from his neck and wrapping it gently around yours. It’s warm around your neck, and smells good. “How you think you’ll care for a pet, as well as yourself, is beyond me,” he grumbles. He looks down at the dog. “Come.”

The dog just stares at him. Leans further back in the snow.

“Come, now,” Zayne tries again. Cold, imperious.

“I don’t know if he can walk,” you begin, but Zayne shakes his head.

“His side is injured, not his legs. He can walk.” 

You glance uncertainly at the dog, whose ears are now flattened back against his head. He’s panting heavily, where before he wasn’t. He looks miserable.

You steel your spine. “Okay, I’ll carry him to your car.”

Zayne pinches his nose again, knocking his glasses a little. “No, I’ll carry him.”

He kneels, lifts the dog with a grunt.

You swear the dog looks smug as he rests his head on Zayne’s shoulder, ears pricked up and swiveling again. He watches you as you trail behind them both in the snow to Zayne’s fancy car.

You’re going to have to add Zayne’s drycleaning to the bill of what you owe him.

You thank Zayne, return to the restaurant.

You offer your excuses to your disappointed-looking blind date. You don’t have the heart to refuse to give him your number.

Finally, you make your escape. Break the speed limit to get home before Zayne and your… not wolf.

Zayne carries the dog into your place, sets him down on your living room rug.

He looks down at his fur-covered coat when he’s done, expression unimpressed.

“Bill me,” you say, trying to sound cheerful, as if you’re not already deducting the accumulated costs from your bank account and wincing internally. 

Expensive fucking dog, and you’ve only had him for an hour.

“Do you want to stay? Have something to drink?” you ask, the least you can offer after your doctor’s excessive generosity tonight, even if you now owe him.

He shakes his head. “I have to return to the hospital. But thank you.” He stares down at the dog, who is now sitting on his haunches just fine, breathing normally. His ears are straight up, swiveling, swiveling. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, absently.

You tilt your head. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He keeps staring at the dog. “There’s something…” his voice trails off. He shakes his head, seems to shake off his thoughts. “Nevermind. Call me, if you need anything.”

“Thank you, again. Let me know when you’re free soon, I’ll clear my schedule for macha,” you say, cheerfully, despite the fact that you hate it terribly. He nods, makes his way to your front door.

“Oh, do you want your scarf?” you ask, suddenly remembering that he insisted you wear it. You begin unwrapping it from your neck. 

He pauses at the door. “No. Keep it, for now. You can return it when we meet again,” he says, strangely. As if he’s actually saying something else. Like it’s insurance to see you again, when he’s your doctor. Of course you'll see him again.

You thank him quietly, and then he’s gone. You hang the scarf carefully on one of the pegs in the wall of your hallway.

You return to the living room and stare at your new friend, who still sits on his haunches, watching you attentively.

“Hey, Buddy. I don’t have anything for a dog. No food, no leash. I’m going to have to go to the supermarket and pick up some stuff for you.”

The dog just listens, watches. You frown. “Okay. I’m going to go now. Don’t eat my shoes.”

You turn, walk to the door. You put your boots back on, and as you do so, you feel a cold nose nudging the back of your bent neck. You shiver.

“Hey,” you say, turning. The dog has followed you to your hallway. You hate thinking of him as ‘the dog.’ 

“Do you have a name?” you wonder out loud.

The dog whines, a little, tilting his head. “I bet you have some regal name. You seem like a very expensive dog, with a rich owner.”

The dog just huffs.

“Maximus,” you say. Trying it out. He lowers his head, bumps your shoulder with his snout. You laugh. “Okay, not Maximus. Uum.” You think. “Charles?”

The dog growls. 

“Okay, okay.” You try again.“Sherman.” 

The dog actually takes a step back, growls more deeply. You laugh even louder. “I should call you Sherman as punishment for being so picky.” He looks unimpressed, bored. But his ears are pressed back against his head. His tail is thumping the floor in agitation.

You can’t bear to see him so put out, so you decide against calling him Sherman even as a joke.

You stare at him thoughtfully. He’s so beautiful, with his soft, long fur. It almost has a pearl sheen, in the subtle lighting of your hallway.

Finally, a name comes to you. You don’t know why, but you say, “Sylus.” A name that you’ve never known anyone to have before. Not anyone you’ve ever met, anywhere, anyway.

His ears flick forward. He approaches you again. Rests his head on your shoulder.

“Oh, we like Sylus?” you tease him, and he lets his tongue loll out, leaves a wet swipe on your ear. You laugh, pushing his head away. “Sylus it is.”

He watches as you finish tying your boots.

As you shrug back into your coat. As you walk out the door. 

He’s there when you return. Sitting patiently, in the same position. As if he was waiting for you to come home the entire time. His tail wags eagerly.

You dump all the shit you bought for him on the hallway floor.

“You’re already the most expensive thing I’ve acquired in a long, long time,” you grouse at him.

You unlace, kick off your boots. Hang up your coat.

You don’t notice that Zayne’s scarf is no longer hanging on the peg in the hall.

You take the huge bag of dog food to the kitchen. He follows you, head low, watching every move you make. You hum, taking a bowl from your cupboard, scoop out some of his food, set it and another bowl filled with water next to your kitchen island.

When you turn, you find him staring at you, ears swiveled toward you.

You stop humming.

He takes a step forward, nudges your thigh. He’s so big, he comes up to your waist. “What do you need, baby?” You run your hands through his fur. You don’t know where the term of endearment came from. It’s just, despite his size, the fact that he looks like an alpha predator, something about him screams ‘big baby’ to you. In the same way you knew that he wouldn’t bite you as Zayne tended to his wound.

You just know. 

Like you know his name should be Sylus.

This dog is making you insane.

He whines softly. Lets out a little ‘awooo.’

You stare at him. He does it again. A sad little, awooo. Then he nudges your hip with his nose.

You suddenly understand that he wants you to keep humming.

You start humming again, and he looks incredibly satisfied. He sits back on his butt, tail thumping on your floor.

From that day on, you hum, every time you’re home. You decide that the next time you have to leave him, you’ll leave music on for him to listen to you while you’re gone.

You have no idea what you’re going to do with such a big dog if you can’t figure out who owns him, but you’re going to keep him if no one else will. Already, the thought of parting from him hurts your heart in a way that shocks you.

Even as he turns his nose up at the dry food you bought him.

Even as he only eats meat leftovers from takeout from the night before.

Even as he lets you bathe him, docilely sitting in your small shower, but then once he’s out of the cabin, he stares you directly in the eyes even as you say No!!!! and he shakes his body, his soaking wet fur, so hard that the entire room and everything in it, including you, is soaked.

You stand, shellshocked, dripping onto your little, soaked bathroom rug.

“Sylus,” you say. Glaring at him. He sits back on his butt. He doesn’t avoid your gaze, like other dogs. He stares right back at you.

You strip out of your clothes, leave them in a sad little pile on the floor. Naked, you kneel down, take a towel and gently rub him down. He licks your arm, your hand. As if to say he’s sorry. You don’t believe it for a second.

When he’s towel dry, you take out your blow dryer.

His eyes close halfway in hypnotized pleasure as you slowly, diligently brush him with the new doggy brush you bought and dry him with the dryer set to low.

When you’re done, he’s so fluffy, his coat so shiny. You want to bury your face in him. You check his stitches. They look fine, even after the shower.

But you’re still naked, and soaked. You shoo him from the bathroom, step into the shower. Wait for the water to warm up again.

You wash your hair, let the water beat down on your sore shoulders. With your job, something is always sore.

However, after a few minutes, you notice that the water isn’t draining. You look down and see a massive amount of white fur blocking the drain.

You hang your head, exhausted at the prospect of cleaning the drain before you can be done for the evening. 

This fucking dog.

Finally, the shower is clean. You’re clean.

You step out of the bathroom, walk naked to your bedroom.

Sylus is lying on your bed. As if he owns the place. His big head rests on his big paws, and he watches you, his ears swiveling, flicking, as you stop and put your hands on your hips.

“Off.” You are not letting this monstrous, furry thing sleep on your bed. You’re already nuts about him, but this is a step too far. “I got you a dog bed. You can sleep on your doggy bed.”

You go to your closet, and you feel his glowing ruby eyes follow every movement you make. As you slip on underwear. Soft pyjama pants. A tank top.

You turn. He hasn’t moved. “Be a good boy, and get off the bed.”

He pretends not to hear you. Just looks away, as if fascinated by the view outside your bedroom window. He huffs, as if bored, tail swishing slowly.

“I spent way too much money on a glorified pillow of a dog bed for you to sleep on, Sylus. You can sleep on your doggy bed,” you insist, trying to infuse your voice with authority.

One ear twitches toward you, but otherwise he doesn’t move.

“I’m not afraid to shove you off, even if you are injured,” you threaten, lying. There’s no way you could do that to him.

He can obviously smell your lie. He just looks back at you. Thumps his tail.

You’re tired. You’ve got a long day again tomorrow, starting with a five in the morning run. You give up.

“Fine. Just for tonight,” you concede, crawling onto the bed. “But you stay on the end of the bed,” you grumble, snuggling under the covers. You switch off the light, and hear a satisfied sigh from your new companion.

You come awake slowly, not from your alarm, but from the warmth. You’re sweating. It’s a bit hard to breathe.

You blink open your eyes, slowly, to find a giant, soft, space heater of a dog curled up against your stomach and chest where you’re lying on your side, his big head resting on the pillow next to yours. He’s snoring softly. Every now and then, his legs move restlessly, as if he’s dreaming about running.

You roll over, peer at your clock on your nightstand. Ten minutes before you need to be up for your run. You groan. Every minute of sleep is precious, and your new dog deprived you of ten whole minutes. 

Well. You’re awake now. You sit up, and the culprit who woke you up early startles, jumps to his feet. You stare at him. He’s a little taller than eye-level with you, as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Good morning, naughty boy,” you say, dryly. His ears flatten against the back of his head. He takes a step forward, nuzzles into your neck with his wet nose, sniffing. You laugh, pet him. He seems mollified after being jerked awake. As if he has any room to be upset about being woken up early.

You stand, stretch. He jumps off the bed, follows you to the closet. You strip out of your pyjamas, pull on your running things. He tries to follow you in the bathroom when you go to pee, but you shoo him away, shut the door in his face.

When you emerge, he follows you to the kitchen. You shovel down a piece of toast, a sip of water. You dump the last of the leftover meat in his bowl, which he greedily eats. You make a note to get him wet food the next time you go to the store, since apparently your new (probably temporary) dog is a fancy boy.

“I”m going for a run. You stay here and be a good boy, okay?”

You walk to the hallway, and he follows. “No, you’re injured. I’ll take you out to pee and poopoo when I’m done with my run.”

His ears flatten on his head again. He squeezes past you, blocking the door with his bulk.

“Sylus,” you sigh. “You’re hurt. You can’t come on a run with me yet.”

He huffs. Shakes himself, like he shook himself last night in your bathroom. Then, like a king deigning to kneel for a peasant, he lies down and bares his belly to you.

You gasp. The stitches. The angry wound from yesterday. 

Gone. As if they were never there. Just the soft, unmarred skin of his tummy where his fur thins.

You check your Hunter’s watch. No metaflux. You don’t sense any, either. He’s not a Wanderer. He’s just a miracle. You remember Zayne’s strange expression, staring at him yesterday.

You wonder if he’s some escaped medical experiment. 

You resolve to take him to the vet, see if he’s chipped, with his owners on record. If he’s not, you’ll put up posters where you found him.

You don’t want to.

You want to keep him.

But you should do the right thing, and at least make a reasonable effort to find his true owner before allowing yourself to hope that you can keep him. This giant dog, whom you do not have time or space for, to keep properly.

But your heart hurts, when you think about taking him to a shelter. Saying goodbye to him.

“Okay. Okay,” you say. He rolls over, sits up. “I still have to go for my run. I’ll be back to take you out, after.”

He huffs, moves forward, nudges your hip with his nose. He then lopes to the bag of things you got him the day before, and he brings you his collar and leash, clutched in his big jaws, still with the tags on.

You laugh.

“Okay. Okay, you win. Again.” You roll your eyes, surrendering. You kneel, and he lowers his big head, pretty, glowing eyes never leaving yours, as you thread the black and scarlet, gem-studded leather collar around his neck with the empty tag shaped like a heart, clasp it tight. You clip the leash on the collar.

He does a little dance at the door, as if excited, tail wagging. 

He runs with you through the gray, quiet, early morning. The snow hushes your footsteps. He doesn’t falter once, the entire run. 

At the end of your run, as you’re walking to cool down, about to head back to your place, he suddenly dashes forward, jerks the leash out of your hand.

“Sylus!” you cry, trying to run after him. He disappears into an area full of shrubbery and dense vegetation, heavy with snow along the bare branches, the pine needles. You have no idea what got into him. Just as you’re about to get on your knees and try to crawl in after him, he re-emerges. He brings you his leash in his teeth.

“What the fuck, Sylus?” You stare at him.

He huffs. Runs a circle around you, kicking up snow. As if to say, Take the leash, take the leash.

You think back over the run. About how he didn’t stop, once. To sniff. Or to pee.

“Did you need to peepee? Or poopoo?” He just growls, bobs his head with his leash in his mouth. “Oooh, baby’s shy!” You laugh. “You better remember this, when you try to follow me into the bathroom again.” You take his leash from between his sharp, sharp teeth.

He leads the way back to your apartment building. You admire his big paw prints in the snow.

Before you leave him to go to work, you snap a photo of him, staring at you solemnly. As if he’s posing. You leave him with music playing and the curtains open, the door to your indoor balcony open for a view.

At work, you make a vet’s appointment. You print off a bunch of “Found” posters for Sylus for if he’s not chipped, with his cute picture front and center. You do paperwork, patrol the city, laugh and joke with Xavier and Tara.

She gives you the earful you expected, about ditching your blind date. She’s only slightly mollified when you show her the picture of Sylus, who looks like such a big handsome boy in the photo.

You’d rather hang out with your dog, than see that guy again.

But you don’t say that out loud.

This dog is making you insane.

You stop by the store on your way home, pick up an absurd amount of meat to cook, as a backup, you tell yourself. For if Sylus refuses to eat the wet food you’re also buying. Not because you have the bizarre urge to feed him food meant for a king. Meant for a king, and not your stray dog who is the least obedient creature you’ve ever encountered.

You let yourself into your apartment, and are a bit surprised, maybe a little disappointed that your new friend isn’t there to greet you already. You know it’s absurd, to wish he had missed you as much as you found yourself missing him throughout your day.

You kick your boots off, carry your groceries to the kitchen island. You glance around. No Sylus.

You peek on the balcony. No Sylus.

So that leaves the bedroom.

You pad quietly through the living room, and then pause in the doorway to your bedroom, shocked at the chaos before you.

Your dirty laundry basket, knocked over.

All of your laundry spread in a little nest, surrounding your dog.

Your big, beautiful, regal dog, who is lying on his belly the floor in the midst of your dirty clothes, like a sphinx, diligently licking a pair of your underwear meant for the wash that he has trapped between his paws. He’s so absorbed in his current activity that he doesn’t seem to notice you at all.

“Sylus!” you yell. Bellow. Air raid siren level of volume.

The noise seems to rip him out of his meditative licking. He blinks, looks up, pauses. Then he stares you right in the eye and takes another lick.

“No! Naughty! Naughty boy!” You stride forward, intending to yank your underwear from his mouth, but he just… chomps down on the slip of fabric, pulling it into his mouth with his tongue and teeth. Then he tries to swallow. “SYLUS!” 

You drop to your knees next to him and grab his snout. You place one hand on his snout and the other under his lower jaw, and then you try to pry his jaws apart, as he continues to clamp down. “Drop! It!” you order, through clenched teeth. He ignores you, resisting your efforts, but not growling, not snapping at you. Simply...ignoring your insistence.  “Drop it!!!”

He swallows, instead. 

You stare at him, huffing from the effort, as you realize that he has just successfully eaten a pair of your underwear.

You’re really, really glad you made that vet appointment already.

It’s only after he has retreated to your bed, completely unashamed, unapologetic, and you’ve started putting your laundry back in the basket, that you notice Zayne’s scarf amidst the pile of clothes. It’s now completely covered in fluffy, white fur, and it stinks like dog.

You hang your head in defeat.

This dog is making you insane.

You take him to the vet. He’s not chipped. 

“If you’re going to keep him, you’ll have to neuter him.”

Sylus’s ears twitch, and he growls menacingly, deep in his throat. The vet stares at him, a strange look on his face. You say something vague, about making an appointment once you’ve exhausted your options in finding his true owner.

The vet has no idea what breed he is. Suspects he might indeed be part wolf. But without a genetic test, he can’t say for sure. He looks at your dog in contemplation. “A fine animal. It would be a shame if he’s a hybrid, and you couldn't keep him.” His eyes flick to yours. “You’re a Hunter, right?”

You nod, wondering why he’s asking.

“One of your lot saved my daughter from a Wanderer attack, a few years ago. Handsome guy. Bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

You stare at him. “Was his name Xavier, by any chance?” you tentatively ask.

The vet nods. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

You look down at Sylus, who is leaning against your leg, eyes closed. “He’s my partner,” you say quietly.

“Hmm,” the vet says. He puts his tablet down. Seems to come to a decision. “Well, it looks like we’ve already got the genetic test results back about your dog. He’s just a mutt. Mainly shepherd, husky.”

You jerk your head up, stare wide eyed at him.

“Agreed?” he asks.

You could cry. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, not believing that you’re one step closer to keeping your incredibly disobedient, lovely good boy.

The vet shrugs. “Test results are test results. Just take him to obedience training. Make sure he gets plenty of exercise. This type of dog needs a firm hand, and an outlet for excess energy. They can be really destructive if they get bored. Like a bomb going off in your house.”

You snort. Think about your laundry. Your poor underwear, which the vet says was small enough not to present a problem for your giant dog. He’ll just shit it out, later.

“Thank you,” you say, quietly, sincerely. You’re breaking so many regulations—ethics rules, accepting gifts for your work as a Hunter, violating city ordinances, because your dog is clearly not just a dog. But you’re realizing you’d do a lot of shady shit, if it means keeping your good boy.

“No, thank you,” he responds, shooing you and your good boy out the door.

You take Sylus home. He curls up on the couch with you, rests his head in your lap, as you watch tv. 

And so it goes.

Morning runs.

Taking him for walks.

To keep him from going after your underwear again, you take big doggy toys that frankly look like butt plugs and fill them with peanut butter. You freeze them. It keeps Sylus busy all day, licking the peanut butter out of the toy.

You try to take him to a dog park, to interact with other dogs. He ignores them, looking bored out of his doggy mind.

You try to throw a ball for him, play fetch. He refuses to chase it. He just runs around you in circles, nips at your heels. Herds you into running with him. Then he’ll refuse to go faster than a walk, once you get tired. As if he knows.

You try to throw a frisbee for him. That, he likes. He catches it in the air, almost as if he’s showing off. Then he’ll bring it back, but refuses to release it from his jaws. You learn that you have to kiss him on his pretty white head in order for him to give it up. His tail wags furiously, every time you do.

This dog is making you insane.

When you come home, exhausted from a particularly tough battle, or an even more grueling day of paperwork, he waits for you at the door, his beautiful, blood-bright eyes big and excited to see you, his tail wagging so furiously the whole lower half of his body shakes.

You suddenly don’t feel so tired, as you kneel down, press your face into the scruff of his neck. His soft fur smells so good to you, even though he’s just a dog. You no longer feel lonely, or dread coming home to your empty, quiet apartment.

After a while, you resign yourself to hanging up the posters once you get home from work. The last hurdle, before you dare hope that you can keep him.

When you arrive at your place after work, you find Sylus on the balcony. Somehow, the window is open, just wide enough for two crows to perch there. They chatter at your dog. He just huffs in response, but makes no effort to bark at them, or chase them away. 

The entire floor of the balcony is covered with the torn-apart paper strips of what used to be the posters advertising the dog you found, with your phone number on it in case someone is missing their beloved pet.

Your beloved pet.

You wonder if it’s so terrible, to just… accept that you’ll never know who had him before. And that he’s yours now. They should have chipped him, collared him, branded him as theirs if they care about him. You decide to get his tag engraved. 

You put the hanging of posters on the backburner in your mind.

You eat with him. You, sitting at your kitchen island. Him, out of his bowl next to your stool. You snuggle with him while watching movies, TV. You take him for walks, for runs. He’s your constant companion, when you’re not at work.

When Xavier comes over to hang out, to cook and read, Sylus basically crawls into your lap despite your protests and his size, and won’t move unless you promise to make him meat along with the ramen you make for yourself and Xav. Once you’re done and back to reading, he’s back, impersonating a chihuahua instead of the wolf he probably is as he wiggles into your lap.

One evening, you’re dumping more meat into your picky-as-fuck dog’s bowl when you receive a call from an unknown number.

You answer.

“Hey. Um. Hi.” A tentative voice.

You wait. The other end is quiet. “May I ask who is calling?” you prompt, hoping you can just hang up. You hate talking on the phone. It’s never good, when someone is calling you out of the blue. Warn a person with a text, damn!

You’re about to hang up when the other person says. “Hi, yeah, sorry. I’m your blind date. The one from when you had to leave to fight Wanderers?”

You shake your head, shocked. You had completely forgotten that you had given this guy your number. “Oh, hey. What’s up?” you ask, dreading his answer.

“Yeah, hi.” He chuckles nervously. “Thanks for picking up. I was, uh, actually calling to see if you’d like a… if you’d like a re-do. With just the two of us?”

You blink. Try to think of an excuse. 

You think of Tara, her badgering you to live for more than just work. To build new relationships. How much effort she puts into trying to introduce you to people she thinks you might like.

Even though you don’t like anyone. 

Except your friends.

You glance at Sylus, who has lifted his head from his paws, his ears pointed at you, like he’s listening intently.

Except your dog.

Your mind is blank. “Uh, okay,” you blurt, wincing. “When is a good time for you?”

He rattles off some dates. You check your Hunter’s watch, settle on a date, a time, a place to meet.

He sounds excited, like he can’t quite believe you agreed to go out with him again, before you end the call.

You shake your head. How bad can it be? It’s just dinner. You get to eat, and then you’ll let him down gently. Or maybe, who knows? You might feel a spark, a spark that’s been missing for you, for so long. You try to be positive. Maybe this guy will be the one to make your heart race, when no one else has been able to.

You get ready for bed.

Sylus is already curled up next to your pillow, no longer even pretending to initially sleep at the end of the bed like the first night you ordered him to do.

You crawl into bed, lift the duvet for him to slide under, and he curls up against your chest and stomach. You fall asleep easily, as you’ve been able to do, ever since he came home with you.

You come awake slowly. 

Like the first morning you brought Sylus home, something wakes you, but it’s not your alarm.

You’re warm. Really warm.

But instead of the soft fur that you’ve come to expect, waking up every morning with your dog taking up more than his fair share of the bed, you feel smooth, warm… skin?

You turn your head. Look over your shoulder, to the source of the warmth at your back.

You think you might be dreaming.

You must be dreaming.

What else could explain the gorgeous, very human, white-haired, red-eyed man looking back at you from your own pillow, where your dog used to be?

This dog is making you insane.

Are you so desperate for companionship that you can stand, that will make your heart race, that you’re dreaming that your beloved dog is the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life?

What the fuck would a therapist have to say about this dream?

You’re so, so glad that you don’t have a therapist, and will never, ever have to tell anyone about this fucking dream.

You slowly turn your head again. Close your eyes. Your alarm hasn’t gone off, after all. Maybe you can just go to sleep in your dream, wake up, and pretend this never happened.

You hear a low laugh rumbling behind you, rumbling through you. 

A muscular arm snakes over your side, pulls you back against a warm, pillowy chest. “Is this how you greet your good boy?” A deep voice, rough with sleep but still soaked in amusement, murmurs in your ear.

“My good boy is a big fluffy dog,” you bite out, squeezing your eyes shut harder against the warmth, the muscles, the voice. “I don’t know what the fuck you are, other than a really weird dream.”

A big hand—alarmingly big—lifts from your stomach, where it was holding you tight, and tenderly brushes your hair away from your neck, your ear. The … dream behind you noses into the back of your neck, inhales. “I have fluffy hair. And I think you can feel what I am, without even needing to look.” The dream adjusts his hips. Your eyes open, despite your best efforts, widen as you feel a big—alarmingly big—dick against your ass.

“I am not having a sex dream about my dog,” you declare.

The dream laughs, low, a rich fucker’s laugh. “No, you’re not having a sex dream about your dog,” he says. “Unless you’re into that. And then I can oblige, but it’s still my mind inside your dog, I’m afraid.”

Okay, that’s enough. You whip around in the dream’s arms, stare into familiar ruby-glow eyes, so close to you, sharing the same pillow. “Who the fuck are you?”

One corner of his full mouth lifts. He’s so beautiful, it hurts. Your heart is racing.

“You should know,” he says, eyes drifting from your eyes, to your mouth. He lifts a hand again, runs it along your hair, so, so gently. “You named me, after all.”

You don’t dare hope. Just as you haven’t dared hope that you could keep him, from the moment you saw him launch himself at the Wanderer slinking up behind you, preparing to attack you. As you saw him rip out its throat, and watched, heart in your throat, as he was flung into the soft snow as a consequence.

You’re afraid to say it. To name your insane hope.

This dog is making you insane.

“Why so quiet? You couldn’t stop talking to me, telling me about your day, about your dreams, your fears—telling me what a wonderful boy I am, when I was your dog. Does this form not please you?” he asks, letting his hand fall from your hair. He takes your hand instead, places it on his own hair.

It’s so, so soft. Even softer than his fur. You can’t help yourself. You pet him, brushing your fingers through its shimmering strands.

You finally manage to speak. You don’t want him to ever think that you don’t delight in him. “I didn’t say it doesn’t please me.”

“Then say that it pleases you.”

You think of all the moments you’ve shared with him. All of the things you’ve said to him, as he’s lived at your side, in your house. You wince. Then you think of how he made Zayne carry him to his car.

“You could walk, that first day. Zayne didn’t have to carry you.”

He looks pleased, smug. It’s jarring, seeing the expression on his human face that you felt like you saw on his doggy face. “I was injured,” he sniffs. “Any doctor with an ounce of compassion would have offered to carry your injured pet.”

You scowl at him, ignoring his jab at Zayne. “You intentionally soaked me, in the bathroom, that first night.”

He smiles wider, just a little, a canine tooth peeking out between his lips. “But I didn’t make you strip off all your clothes and groom me while gloriously nude. That was all you, sweetheart.”

You lean forward, bury your face in his warm, strong neck. “You ate my fucking underwear.”

He coughs, the first time sounding a little abashed. “When I’m shapeshifted, certain urges… are amplified. Keep that in mind, if you want me to fuck you as a—”

You jerk back, cover his mouth with your hands. “I do not want to fuck you as a dog, Sylus.”

“Excellent, I’ll fuck you as a human then,” he says, voice muffled from behind your hand, but his subtle smile loud and clear under your palms. 

“Sylus!”

“Yes, owner?” he asks, eyes wide, falsely innocent.

You drop your hands. “Don’t call me owner,” you whisper. “You’re my companion, not my possession. You have been from the day you came home with me.”

“Then say that this form pleases you,” he says, sounding uncertain for the first time.

“How can it not?” you ask. “You’re beautiful.”

He shrugs. “Not everyone sees what you see.”

“You’re beautiful. But you’re a naughty boy,” you say, slipping your fingers under the collar he’s still wearing. It’s loose on his human neck. You pull, gently. He whimpers.

“A very naughty boy,” he agrees, breathless. “How will you punish me?”

“First, by making you wash Zayne’s scarf. It wasn’t nice what you did to it.” You punctuate each word, by pulling his collar a little for emphasis. He grumbles, but looks slightly drunk. Eyes half lidded in pleasure. You continue. “And by interrogating you. Who are you, really?” You have so many questions, even as you feel him, hard and warm, against your stomach. 

He huffs. “Would you believe me if I said that I’m the head of the largest criminal organization on the planet, and I’m the most wanted criminal on not one, but two planets?”

You stare at him. Laugh a little. “You were my dog, and now you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my bed. I’d believe you if you said you’ve loved me for lifetimes, and have been waiting for me to be reincarnated in order to make me fall in love with you all over again.”

“How convenient,” he says. “Because that’s the other answer to your question.”

You laugh, loudly. 

This dog is making you insane.

“Wanted criminal, soulmate. Irrelevant. You ate my fucking underwear, Sylus.”

He leans forward, nudges your nose with his long, regal snout. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and your heart races, races. “Is it a crime to want to savor something so delicious?”

“It’s a crime in some jurisdictions to pilfer underwear, yes,” you say, laughing, breathless in turn. You return his kiss. His lips are so, so soft. He makes a little sound of pleasure in his throat.

“Then arrest your naughty boy,” he murmurs. “And teach him what the real thing tastes like, instead of the leftovers.”

“You like leftovers,” you tease, thinking of all the takeout meat you’ve been setting out in his doggy bowl in between the fresh stuff.

“With you, I’ll take what I can get,” he admits. “But maybe if you tell me how to be a good boy for you, you can reward me with a fresh taste.”

Your heart is going berserk in your chest, as you look into his earnest, big, wet, crimson puppy eyes. It doesn’t matter, that he has been lying to you this whole time. That he’s tricked you into revealing so many of your secrets to him, as he wagged his tail for you, kept you warm in bed, as he ran by your side, kilometer after kilometer. Your heart is racing, and you think it recognized him, the moment you looked into his beautiful eyes in the snow.

You tell him how he can be a good boy. He uses his mouth, his big pink tongue, to soften you, make you wet. He licks you, like he licked your underwear. With single-minded, hypnotized focus. You tell him to mind his teeth, when he gets bitey, gently flick his ear to get his attention. His eyes drift between being closed as he savors your taste, and open, eagerly watching your face as he pleasures you, as your body begins to shake, as you gush into his mouth.

You lie there panting for a few minutes, watching him as he licks his lips, his fingers, his palms. Like a dog, licking its paws after making a mess in its bowl.

You suddenly desperately need to return the favor. You roll to your side, sit up. “I want to taste you, too.” He looks surprised, but pleased. He gets up on his knees, takes the back of your head tenderly in his big palm, petting your hair with his other hand. You open your mouth, and he guides his big cock to your lips, smears his own wetness across your lower lip, before gently feeding you his dick.

You have to open your mouth all the way, to allow him in. He moves his hips, little jerks, watching your reaction before sliding deeper, silken along your tongue, ember-eyes glowing under half-lidded lashes. You can’t take all of him, he’s just too big. You suck, use your tongue. Offer your hand, wet and sloppy for your dripping mouth, for him to tunnel through. He helps you adjust your grip. He grunts, with each little thrust. Helpless noises in his big, big throat. He smells so, so good. Skin, and sweat. A bitter tang from his leaking dick.

Finally, he loses patience. “I don’t want to come in your mouth. I want to come between your legs.” He’s panting, hair messy, sweeping over his forehead. “I want you to feel good too. May I? Please? I’ll make it so good for you.” His deep voice has a whiny edge.

You nod, looking up at him, mouth still stuffed with him. 

He slowly pulls out of your mouth, uses his hand on the back of your head to urge you up to meet him, so that you’re kneeling on the bed too. He wraps his big arms around you, hugs you, tightly. Kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye. “Are you sure? How do you want me?”

You lift your hands to his cheeks, kiss him too. His cheek. The corner of his eye. His lips. “You’ve been such a good boy, making me feel good with your mouth. You can have me however you’d like me.”

He doesn’t have a tail to wag right now, but if he did, you think he’d wag himself off the bed. He kisses you, hard, tongue licking into your mouth. He eagerly urges you down, onto your back. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, and you’re grateful for all the mobility, the stretching you do as part of your job, as he splits you wide open, holds you by your ankles, and fucks into you slowly, so slowly at first, before leaning down, bending you in half, filling you hard and fast, over and over again. Sounds come out of you that you’ve never heard before, because you’ve never felt so good, so full before. He fucks into you at an angle that makes you moan loudly, surprised, and he ruts into you there again, and again. “Am I your good boy?” he pants, desperate, in your ear.

“You’re such a good boy, Sylus,” you assure him, turning your head, biting down on his earlobe. “My good boy.” He suddenly comes, hips jerking messily, with a loud whine, a deep grunt. 

After, when your sheets are filthy and you’re both sweaty, cum drenched messes, you rest your head on his big chest, let your fingers circle one pink nipple, sift through the human fur swirling around it.

“Why didn’t you just introduce yourself like a normal person, ask me on a date?”

He snorts. “Oh, hello, my name is Sylus Qin, I’m the leader of Onychinus and your employer’s public enemy number one. May I buy you a drink? Perhaps, fuck you stupid afterwards? Love you for the rest of our lives?” His voice is wry.

You laugh, delight ballooning in your chest at his sense of humor. “Okay, maybe that would have been a little much, and I would have been suspicious. But infiltrating my life as a dog?”

He touches his finger to his lip, tilts his head. “I thought about kidnapping you. Violently trying to jog your memory by re-enacting our contentious first meeting.”

You swat his chest with your hand. “That’s a terrible fucking idea.”

“In retrospect, you are correct. Fortunately for me, the twins talked me out of it. They convinced me that being a cute, cuddly dog would be more… effective.”

You look up at him, curious. “The twins?”

He hums, low in his throat. “You’ve met them. Crows on the balcony.”

You think back, remembering the mysteriously opened window. The “Found” posters, ripped to confetti on your balcony. “The ones who destroyed my posters.”

Sylus nods, strokes his knuckles down your cheek, your neck. “The unnecessary posters containing your personal information, like your phone number, for any random fool to use to call and bother you.”

You sigh. Drift for a while, wondering how you’re going to explain your new dog and your new man in your life to your friends. To your family. “Caleb is going to hate you.”

He smirks. “I’m not worried about your brother.”

You look at him curiously. “You know who he is?”

He leans down, inhales your sweaty hair. Makes a happy noise. “I like to stay informed when I’m interested in a new acquisition. And you’re the most valuable thing I’ll ever acquire.”

You roll your eyes. “Why are you not worried about him? He’s been so weird, since he’s been back. Possessive.”

Sylus gestures at his arm, as if to indicate Caleb’s new augmentation. “I’m good with weapons. I’ll tinker in his arm, give him a little upgrade. Maybe give him sensation back. He’ll love me.”

You stare at him. No one else is supposed to know about Caleb’s arm. It’s like, a state secret. “How do you know so much about upgrading weapons?” you ask, instead of asking how he knows about Caleb.

“Do you really want to know?” He lifts a lovely silver eyebrow. “It has to do with my business. I’ll tell you, but you have to keep it a secret.”

You rest your cheek back on his chest. “Another time, maybe. I’m too tired to process all the shady shit you must do in order to be on the Association’s most wanted list. You definitely fucked me stupid.”

You feel him preen underneath you at your compliment. His invisible tail wags, wags. “Not just on the list, sweetheart. At the top of the list,” he says, smug. “And shady shit… You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, beloved? Like accepting the equivalent of a retroactive bribe from your vet, and breaking all sorts of Linkon City laws to keep your ‘dog?’”

You groan. “I can’t believe you witnessed that.”

“I feel privileged to have witnessed your fall from grace, and all because of me,” he teases you, hugging you tightly.

You just shake your head, close your eyes. Fret about your brother again. “You think you can handle him?”

He scoffs again. “Once he sees how sincere I am, he’ll have no choice but to accept me as your other half.”

You hold your breath. Ask him what you’re dying to know, what you haven’t dared hope, even as you gave in to your racing heart, your affection for him, and loved him with your body, as well as your heart. “So you’re sincere?”

He gently flicks your forehead. “You’re the only person, in any lifetime, that I’d eat out of a bowl on the ground for, beloved.”

You laugh, kiss his chest, right over where his strong, big heart is beating.

In the end, you get to keep him. You let your blind date down gently, but decisively.

You come home one day, and he is eagerly waiting for you, in his human form. You had promised him a treat, after all.

“You’ll have to bend down a little,” you say.

Without hesitation, Sylus drops to his knees, and then places his hands on the floor.

You stare down at him, as he looks up at you, soft white hair, soft red eyes, gleaming in the light.

Your heart is racing again, just from his eyes on you, his scent filling your apartment.

You bend down, thread a new, subtle leather collar around his neck. It will hang on the wall, when he’s using his doggy collar, in his big wolf form. But when he’s a man, out in the world, away from you on business, getting up to no good and causing trouble—as he still occasionally does in your bedroom as he manages to tear the stuffing out of the plushies you’ve caught with other people when you’re away for too long—he’ll wear this one for you.

The one that says good boy on the heart-shaped tag on one side, and your name on the other.

You never do make that neutering appointment with the vet.

[cherbii]

TOGETHER AGAIN | Ryomen Sukuna

summary -> who knew you’d see your long, lost lover in the midst of Shibuya

warnings -> language, violence, attempted murder, SMUT! p in v, creāmpie, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, high key lovey dovey Sukuna. mdni

Shibuya, at night was cold, though it used to be years back before Shibuya was, well Shibuya. Now the city glowed and was warm from all the electronic billboards and screens plastered on every building, casting flickering hues of purple and blue on the dark tar of the roads.

You weren't supposed to be here, but hours prior, sitting in your chambers did your servant tell you what someone under the name of 'Mahito' planned to do-kill sorcerers.

You decided to join, or at the very least, be present. And you thought that being a special grade curse user would set of alarm bells, you surprisingly went undetected and not disturbed, except for the occasional push and shove, as you meandered your way through the large crowds of city goers, all dressed in tacky, Halloween costumes.

The crowds of Shibuya moved in herds, with an occasional gaggle of obnoxious teenagers that laughed loudly, taking up most of the pathway to leave barely any space for a single person to move. Still, you moved forward, eyes shifting from the large buildings, to the glowing billboards, to the groups of people walking around you.

After a long while, that had felt like forever with how slow you were being pushed forward, you finally reached Shibuya Crossing.

You had yet to find any sorcerer or curse user.

The crossing was alive with people, a wave of bodies moving in unison with the crosswalks, lights flickering, and cars honking their horns impatiently. The only thing you were doing was walking, but you felt like you were being squished between bodies, shoved left and right with loud apologies from strangers.

You didn't blame them either, since the crossing was incredibly busy, with many more joining the throngs of people every minute. You walked until you reached the subway station, it was still alive with movement. It didn't help that Shibuya was the busiest city in Japan, and one of the busiest cities in the world. So it didn't surprise you when the underground station was packed with people, going to wherever they needed to go.

You slowly made your way through them, your mind still on finding Mahito. You wondered if this was a waste of your time. You crossed cities to be here, and still, nothing. With a long sigh you found a bench, and sat on it.

There was a person sitting on it already, a man, no younger than 40, who was ridiculously dressed as a scarecrow. Upon noticing your arrival he sat up. "Hey, girl. What's a pretty thing like you doing in a subway. Should be out modelling."

You felt like you had the urge to slaughter the man, though you kept your composure. Just the way he addressed you, pissed you off instantly, but you couldn't do anything.

The man sat up straight, his long legs spread, as he leaned forward, trying to make conversation with you. His eyes looked you up and down, making your skin crawl.

"Thank you." You curtly and politely replied, folding your hands in your lap.

The man smiled, his lips curling back, revealing a set of yellowing teeth that was stained with god knows what. The man continued to speak, his eyes trailing down your body. "I mean it. You're so pretty. You ever modeled?"

You felt your yukata tug, the pale fabric now between his slender fingers rolling the material. You clicked your tongue, pulling it out from his grip. "No, I haven't."

For a split second, the man frowned, as if he were thrown off that you had snatched it away, though quickly a smile was formed. "Awh, c'mon. Don't you think your body is good enough for modeling? I mean, you've got a pretty face, no doubt. I know there are magazines that take pretty girls like you."

The man licked his lips, as if he were about to say something dirty after. The man continued, moving closer to your body.

"You just gotta, show them what they wanna see, y'know? It'll be easy. I mean, with a body like that, you won't have trouble getting hired."

His hand moved up your thigh, and it took every ounce of you not to snap his arm like a twig. The mans fingers trailed up your thigh, inching closer to the edge of your skirt, before you slapped his hand away, the sound resounding in the near quiet station.

The man looked shocked, seemingly taken off guard. He stared at his hand blankly, as if he didn't expect you to be the type to slap him. His eyes flicked to you, narrowing slightly, though his facade of a smile quickly was placed back on to mask his annoyance. The man quickly shook his head, and forced a chuckle.

"C'mon. I ain't got no bad intentions, girl. I was just trying to give you some advice. I was just trying to say that—.” His fingers trailed up your thigh once again, his fingers crawling like spiders, the tips of his nails digging in your skin hard, to the point it was uncomfortable.

Your hand flew out to his, your fingers gripping it, his skin fizzled and sizzled as you allowed for your curse technique to work. "I'd advise you to keep your hands to yourself from how."

The man let out a sharp cry of pain, his fingers trembling in your grip as he began to sweat profusely. If it wasn't for all the people around, he probably would've cursed you out, but instead he just stared at your hand in disbelief, feeling his skin melted under your hands.

With a sigh, you let go of his hand, before folding your hands back into your lap. The man ripped his hand back, gasping to see that there was no physical damage to his skin, in fact it looked the same, but he felt a searing burn to it. He didn't believe what he was seeing, or what he was feeling, but he got the message clear loud and clear.

The man quickly got up, muttering to himself under his breath, as he walked away, throwing side glances at you every so often as he left.

"My, that was impressive." A soft, male voice said from behind you. The voice was light and sweet, but had a sarcastic undertone to it. Upon hearing it, you felt a shiver up your back, even though it was a relatively cool night. When you looked behind you, someone was slowly approaching you, their hands in their pockets.

You noticed his hair before anything else, it was a pale mint colour, then was his raggedy outfit, then his stitches, and at last, his silver, blind eye. "So you're Mahito?" You asked, looking up at the man.

The man titled his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smile as if he were impressed. His hands were still in his pockets, as he slowly strutted over to you. His eyes scanned you from the top of your head to your feet as he stood in front of you, his smile only getting wider.

"In the flesh."

You hum. "So, where are the other curses and the sorcerers?"

Mahito grinned, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. He shook his head, as if he were about to tell you what he did was some funny inside joke, though quickly he cleared his throat and shook off the smile.

"Oh, you know." Mahito took a few steps forward till he was standing beside you, his eyes flicking to yours momentarily before looking over the people around the station. "Busy, fighting one another. It's such a hassle, don't you think? I mean, I'm just so strong that there aren't any sorcerers fighting me! Though that Gojo guy is definitely trying to find me."

You had heard of him, Gojo Satoru, his name brought dread to curses.

Mahito shrugged. "Wonder why the others haven't tried to find me, maybe they're dead," he grinned. "I did cast a veil, but oh well—."

Just as Mahito finished speaking, an object whizzed past your head, barely missing it, before it dug into the wall— a nail. "Shit, I missed. Megumi, a little help over here?" A girl yelled, before preparing to hit another nail over.

"Spoke too soon, there's they are! Precious sorcerers." Mahito sighed, not looking over to where the nail had been thrown. Mahito groaned audibly, shaking his head as if he were a disappointed teacher, which in a way, he was.

He clicked his tongue in fake annoyance, leaning close to your ear to murmur under his breath, to make sure the sorcerer didn't hear him.

"Such a buzzkill." He slid off, before taking on a full blown sprint, away from the sorcerers and disappearing into the crowds, his touch turning the people nearby into ugly things, skin melting into hideous rolls.

The two were stunned to see the people around them melt into disgusting masses of flesh, screams, cries, and panic was thrown around by the crowds of people. The sorcerers just stood in horror, watching people's skin peel off and deform.

Mahito was having the time of his life, grinning ear to ear, and giggling as he ran through the crowds of people.

Sorcerers who you hadn't seen before went after Mahito, leaving you with the girl, and boy who you assumed was 'Megumi’z

Something sharp and cold hit and dug into your neck, like a pin prick. You reached a hand around and pulled the object out of your neck—it was another nail, then it combusted, fazing right through you.

You turned your head to face the girl with a glare at the fact you had been interrupted again, and you held the nail in your hand, examining it.

They had to be the ones who tried and failed to catch Mahito, and they had tried to kill you too even though it didn't work. Megumi watched, though his lips were still in a straight line.

The girl clenched her jaw, her lips slightly parted, as if she were confused how you weren't dead.

"What? It didn't even do damage..." the girl mumbled.

Megumi growled in anger, "Shit, where's Nanami?" Megumi clicked his tongue, his fists shaking as he let his hand hang by his side. He began to turn his head, searching through the people who were running, trying to find the person he had mentioned.

The girl looked just as frustrated, her fists clenched as her nails dug into her palms. She let out a loud huff, her lips curling down into a frown. The girl raised her hammer, and hit more nails at you, and even though they did little to no damage, you still pranced around avoiding them.

"Finally, someone who can have a little fun!" You cheer, stepping out from the bench.

The girl was definitely frustrated now, even more than she had been before. The fact you were doing something the exact opposite of what she wanted pissed her off. The girl let out a scoff, looking over to Megumi.

Megumi sighed under his breath, his jaw clenched, and his eyes flicked between you and his partner. His fists clenched at his side, his nails digging into his palms. He seemed to be doing his best to keep his patience.

You planted your foot on the ground before speeding off to the two. The duo quickly got into a defensive position, their eyes not leaving you. Megumi moved to stand in front of the girl.

The girl moved her hammer, ready to hit you as you approached. You struck out a hand, letting it glow red before a jet of manipulated acid shot out, forming a shape of a spear before plummeting it to the two.

Megumi grabbed the girls wrist and tugged her aside, using his free hand to block the acid with a burst of water, a burst of smoke filled in the space around the area.

The girl grunted, staring at you through the clearing smoke. She looked frustrated. Megumi had a cool and calmer look on his face, the only thing showing any kind of feeling being the sweat dripping down the side of his cheek.

The other people, though terrified, were in your way. The people who were in the way began to notice and move, though most were having trouble getting themselves out of the way in time.

Those who did move ran to safety, most of the people in the station were scattering away. Leaving a rather large open space in between the group of fighters, and the still panicked citizens.

The only downside was the large number of civilians being in the crossfire of this fight.

You let add a noise of annoyance, before putting your thumbs together, hands open, mumbling your curse technique. Thick waves of acid out, the pearly liquid engulfing the civilians, devouring their bodies until they were nothing.

The duo couldn't believe what they were seeing. Megumi stared at the puddle of sludge that the people's bodies had become, his lips in a straight line from shock. The girl looked shocked, but not as much as Megumi, her eyes darted from you to the civilians you had slain with the wave of acid.

Megumi clasped his hands together, yelling, "Demon dogs!" before a large wolf like a dog, both white and black in colour jumped out from behind him, barrelling towards you.

Megumi was quick with whatever he was doing, as the large wolf quickly sprung into action and charged forward, running at you. It didn't seem like it slowed down even when it had to leap over a pile of acid.

The dog was fast, and was on you in seconds, not allowing you much time to react. You sent another wave of acid towards the dog. The dog tried to dodge and weave through the acid, though it had no success. The large dog was hit, its legs melting under the acid, as it's body was reduced to a pile of goo.

The girl stared down at the puddle of dog with a shocked expression, not sure how you'd managed to melt a shikigami with such ease.

"Bye, bye!" You exclaimed, before raising a fist, forming a thought acidic bubble around you before it collapsed, having you nowhere to be seen. Megumi let out a curse under his breath as you were gone, not sure where you had gone after that show of power.

The girl gritted her teeth with her lips in a flat line, looking around frantically to see if she could identify your next move.

Somewhere else in Shibuya, on the side of a building, did you emerge from an acidic rip. You had the vantage point, and the view of Shibuya at night, with everything lit up and the people scrambling around in chaos, was beautiful.

The sky, however was unusually pitch black, a veil. Where you stood, there was already chaos, you could tell by the damaged buildings and property. There were cracks and holes in the roads, with a lot of buildings being half broken. The veil above was dark, not a sign of light other than the stars peeking around it.

You strolled down the streets, distantly hearing noise. The noise was quiet, sounding like murmurs and cries, until the faint sound of fighting reached your ears. The sound was definitely getting closer, and the longer you walked, the clearer it got. There was fighting going on somewhere near.

You rounded a corner, and the fighting seemed to be getting closer. If you continued walking, you would be approaching the fight.

The further you walked, the stronger the stench of blood and death got. The more you walked, the more the buildings melted into a heap of nothingness. It seemed it was either you climb the mess, or turn around, so naturally, you began to climb.

It felt like this area was completely destroyed, with nothing but rubble for miles.

You began to climb the debris, using your cursed technique as an extra grip for your feet. The only issue was the fact it was difficult to climb, with the pieces of building falling, or giving no grip. The noise of chaos got louder on the other side, now you reached the peak, looking down at a large number of people fighting two, and upon squinting, you recognised one.

Your cursed technique bubble under your feet, burning away a smooth path for you as you climbed down, heading straight for the white and partly red haired woman. "Uraume? Is that you?"

Uraume was currently occupied with fighting off two students, who were trying their best to fight back. When Uraume heard your voice, her head turned around, eyes wide, then a smile tugged at her lips. She spoke up, though she didn't look away from the students. "Is that you, my Lady?"

"Yes, what a pleasant surprise," you replied, small smile gracing your face as though you didn't walk straight through a fight. You looked over to the other curse user, his long, raven hair flowing in the wind as he sent shikigami after shikigami to the six other sorcerers. "Need any help?"

Uraume let out a small laugh, her lips curling upward in a small smile as she looked you up and down. She seemed to be quite happy to hear your voice, and in her time of need. At your question, Uraume shook her head, a confident look placed on her face. "I can handle these students."

You just hummed. "Alright, I'll go see what's happening over there."

Uraume nodded, keeping her focus on her own opponents before you had moved off. The chaos down below was overwhelming, with the sounds of explosions, fighting and cursing echoed.

For this man, you didn't ask if you needed help, instead shooting a web of acid, the liquid solidifying as it shot through the air, wrapping around two students who were fighting side by side—an overly large panda, and a boy who's eyes were shut closed, odd.

You ran over, narrowly avoiding getting sucked into a dark abyss caused by none other than the other curse user as slimes, ugly shikigami's shot out and attacked the other students. Your next target was a girl with blue hair.

She had a long sword in her hand, swinging it boldly when she heard you bearing towards her. "Two can play at that game, girl." You chuckled, forming an acidic sword.

The girl watched you for a while before taking notice of your appearance. She kept her composure, though a nervous feeling bubbled up in her stomach. The girl was a little hesitant, but readied her blade anyway, her eyes narrowed at you.

Your sword blade clinked against hers. The girl grit her teeth slightly, her blade clashing against yours. She wasn't exactly a great sword fighter, though she held her composure as she glared at you.

The force of her swing was quite powerful. She seemed to take you seriously, not underestimating like other people may have. Her foot stepped forward, trying to shove you away, before shoving her sword in an upwards motion.

Your sword went flying, dissolving into a puddle which burned a hole in the ground. You clicked your tongue. "I've gotten weak." You murmured, allowing for her sword to fade through you, the metal melting from the acid you covered yourself with.

The girl cursed under her breath, quickly pulling her sword back and taking a few steps away. The girl stared in disbelief, but shook off the feeling. She had never seen anything like that, that was for sure.

You let the acidic barrier drop, spinning to face the girl. "Acid, is acid." You muttered, striking out a hand to touch the girl. She lets out a noise of surprise, her stomach feeling sore.

You were going to manipulate her stomach acid, let it harden and turn to sharps, piercing her, before you felt an inkling to raise your acidic barrier up, right before something that resembled a blood spike shot right through you. Obviously, you felt nothing, but couldn't help look at the perpetrator.

A man, with a tattooed nose, and pinned up hair stood, palms pressed against each other, shooting out a long, red beam. He seemed to be a curse user as well, though he was attacking you. Had he turned on curse users's beliefs?

The man grunted, shaking his head, as he kept his palms pressed against one another to keep firing his blood technique at you. He was focused, eyebrows furrowed, as his lips pulled back into a grimace, making him look even more intimidating.

"Hm, I pity you," you said, forming an acidic bubble around you, teleporting you to roght behind the man. "You're still weak, even for a special grade." You reached a hand out, quickly latching it onto him before changing the form and matter of his stomach acid.

The man cursed, his breath hitching as he tried to fight back. He wasn't ready at all to face the feeling of something being messed with his stomach, his insides felt like it was in fire. The man gasped, groaning, as he stared at you, with his eyes wide in horror. He didn't feel himself melt, but he could feel something horrible happening inside of him.

"Let's see, do you think you're going to heaven or hell?" You asked, flexing your fingers, making his stomach acid harden and grow sharp.

The man's face contorted in pain, his knees buckling as he fell forward to the ground. The man couldn't even try to answer you, the pain of manipulation of his cursed energy was a feeling no other curse or sorcerer could experience.

His head smacked against the ground, as his body jolted, as if he were seizing. You let it turn into a spear head, gradually growing and piercing his organs until the tip made a dent in his skin. The man stared at his chest, his eyes watering as more tears began to drop from his eyes. His vision blurred, and he couldn’t the difference between his tears or blood or the veil or even his manipulation.

He stared at the dent in his chest before raising his eyes to meet yours, as he wheezed, the tips of his fingers trembling. The man let out a small, pained laugh, wheezing through the pain, before a small smile tugged at his lips. Through the pain in his stomach, he had no idea why, but he found you incredibly impressive.

Though you found him boring, this wasn't fun, you thought. So instead you removed your hand, leaving the man hurt, but not dead, not yet anyway, and decided to target someone else. Your eyes landed on two poeple fighting side by side, a girl with glasses and forest green hair, twirling a large sword and fighting off shikigamis, and a boy, who's hair was a blush pink.

The duo was fighting a horde of shikigamis, and seemed to be doing it with ease. The girl swung the sword around with a rather graceful finesse. While the man's fists were balled, throwing punch after punch, and using his hands to grab and flick aside or break the shikigamis when they came too close.

Both seemed to be doing great, not noticing you at all in the midst of the battlefield, which was to your advantage. Uraume's offer was perfect, as well as very convenient. With all the chaos it was unlikely to get the chance again.

You found yourself grinning, as you looked over to Uraume, giving a small nod. You formed acid under your feet, using it to slide to the girl before shooting a tentacle of acid to her sword, melting the metal.

The girl gasped, jumping back as the tentacles of acid shot out, melting her sword. She didn't see that coming, looking down at her now melted sword in disbelief, as she stared at where you suddenly were now standing.

She clenched her fists, but remained calm as she stepped into a defensive position, even if she was without a weapon for now. The girl wasn't about to give up this fight, despite the odds being against her.

The boy noticed, his eyes flicking from Uraume to you, his eyes widening at the scene. The boy let out an annoyed groan, punching more shikigamis to a pulp with ease in frustration. His fists were red, bruised and bleeding, but that seemed to drive him to hit harder.

Uraume was shooting ice daggers at the boy. The boy had managed to block out the first few, but the last few hit his arms. He winced at each hit, his skin getting slightly cut, just nothing major.

The boy grit his teeth in frustration, letting out a loud huff as he focused his gaze on Uraume, his own eyes narrowing further. The girl had no time to react to the sudden tentacle of acid, and it came crashing down on her.

She felt the warm, hot liquid on her skin and let out a sharp cry of pain, her skin sizzling as it burnt. She tried to jump out of the way, but her movements were stiff. The acid kept raining down, burning a hole in the ground.

The girl's skin turned red at first, then it quickly melted, the acid having melted through her clothes, and eating at her skin, the liquid burning into her flesh and muscle as the girl let out a painful cry.

She was still alive, somehow, coughing and wheezing, as she tried desperately to keep herself together. The boy clenched his fists, clenching his teeth together as he watched, his eyes wide. He wanted to jump in, but soon felt ice envelope him, now having him stationary in the cold, frozen cube.

The boy tried to fight the ice, his limbs trembling from the cold seeping into his bloodstream, but it was futile. He felt his legs, arms and fingers turning numb as he let out painful grunts, his breath turning visible.

The other curse user with the flowing black hair grumbled under his breath, before changing out another shikigami, a shimmering dragon, before it picked him up and took him elsewhere.

Uraume scoffed, wiping her cold lips before turning to you. "You did very well, My Lady." You heard Uraume, letting a small smirk tug at your lips. You had killed with ease, without even really getting hurt. It was satisfying to say the least.

You had to admit, the fight was fun too, as well as seeing the other curse users get frustrated. "Thank you, Uraume, you did good as well."

However, what you two failed to notice was on each side of the cheeks of the pinkette boy, two slits opened, revealing a pair of red eyes, both staring at you.

Something strummed in the boy's chest, something intense, a voice boomed and roared in his head, demanding to be free. The boy's eyes opened wide, staring directly at you. The more he looked at you, the more he felt something, an odd, intense feeling bubble up in his chest.

The veins in his arms and on his neck could be seen, as he began to tremble from the intense feeling in his chest.

The voice growled, before mumbling "enchain", spontaneously switching forms. The boy gasped as his form changed, large scars appearing over his body as well as his hair and eyes. His teeth grew into sharp canines, and his nails turned black, almost like claws. He let out an inhuman growl, his chest heaving as he seemed to get even taller and muscular.

The ice block melted instantly, revealing the monster of a man you loved, though not in true form, but still as equally terrifying. His huffs turned to laughs, then a malicious chuckle that boomed, causing your attention to turn, a small gasp leaving your lips.

No, it can't be.

Your Ryomen had been killed and chopped up.

Uraume instantly dropped to her knees, bowing at the king. "Master Sukuna, I'm sorry." She murmured.

Sukuna's chuckles died down. "You're forgiven." He muttered, brushing her off, before his scarlet eyes were on you again. It was almost easy to miss the way his eyes widened, or his jaw lax, or the way his frown shallowed.

Sukuna's eyes fell on you, his gaze was heavy as he stared at you. Sukuna wasn't a soft man, he was rough and he was cruel, but even he could feel something well in his chest as he stared. He hadn't seen you in so long. He felt something, a warm, heavy, intense feeling in his chest that he couldn't put his finger on. What was he feeling?

You blinked. "Ryo...?" You whispered, bringing your fingers to your lips.

Sukuna's breath hitched in his throat as he heard you call his name. He had missed you. He was in shock, his lips parting as he just watched your every move. He couldn't really process seeing you again after so long. He felt his lips slightly quiver in surprise, a thousand more emotions welling up in his chest as he tried to form words. Sukuna took slow steps towards you, as he was just taking in your appearance now.

He was trying so hard not to let his feelings get the better of him, though that was hard as he came to stop a few feet away from you. Sukuna had millions of unspoken words that filled his head, he kept staring at you quietly.

Something surged within you, causing you to bounce over to him and throwing your arms around his still large frame, laughter bubbling from you. "It's you! It's you! It's you!"

Sukuna felt his breath hitch in his breath as you threw yourself onto him, your arms around him in a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, his breath hitching again as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

The others who were trapped in ice could only watch in horror, they didn't know what was more terrifying; the King of Curses, or the King of Curses being nice.

Sukuna could just barely feel his hands trembling against the fabric of your clothes. He was trying to hide it, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was shaking from the adrenaline and emotions in his chest.

You couldn't fend off the tears that pebbled at your eyelashes as you leant back to look at your lover. "I missed you so, so, so much, Ryo."

Sukuna's whole demeanor felt soft and tender as you looked at him. He was vulnerable, though he tried his hardest to conceal it. He had missed you too, he missed you so much that it had hurt these few months apart.

He gently held your chin, his thumb wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye as he couldn't stop looking at you. He was still in disbelief you were here, in front of him. Sukuna quickly pulled you back to him, his fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes as he held you closely, not wanting to let you go. Sukuna held you against him, his grip tightening as he gently nuzzled his face into your neck. He couldn't believe you were here in his arms again, after so much time he spent wondering if he would ever see you again.

"I missed you too brat, so much." He muttered against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. His large hands roamed up and down your back, his hands trailing up to gently place his hand on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

Sukuna had missed so much in these few centuries. He had missed holding you like this even though he didn't do it often with you, he missed the small moments spent together when you were alone, he missed your sweet smile and laugh, everything.

The King of Curses was weak at the moment, he had been through much, but seeing you like this made him feel almost whole again.

You untangled yourself from him. "How are you even alive? I thought..."

Sukuna looked down at you, he had missed your small form. He had missed looking down at you, the corners of his lips tugged up as he heard your question. He gently held you at arms length, his large hands still on your shoulders.

"It's a long story," he sighed. He gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your cheek in the process before his hand moved to the nape of your neck.

Sukuna could feel his emotions swelling again. He wanted to hold you in his hold again, or kiss you. So many things he had missed, he was like a starved man who was just offered a meal. His thumb gently ran over your cheek as he kept his scarlet eyes on your form, just taking you in again after all this time.

"All these foolish sorcerers, they're in my way," Sukuna murmured, a finger tapping his chin. "All the better." He shrugged, before bringing his fingers together and chanting out his domain expansion. You and Sukuna were sucked into the domain, rendering you two alone.

Uraume managed to escape the inky globe that was now hovering in Shibuya.

Your shoes were submerged in the same waters of Sukuna's domain, just below the hill of skulls.

He was say on his thrown at the very top of the hill of bones. Sukuna let out a soft chuckle as his domain swallowed the area, the two of you ending up alone together. He was in the same domain again, his territory of skulls and a lake of blood.

Sukuna sat on his throne, looking down at you with a small smirk on his lips He beckoned for you, his gaze fixated on you. The only thing he wanted right now was this, you. "Come here, brat." Sukuna was a man of few words, especially in private. But he wanted, needed you by his side for now. The only thing he wanted to do was see you, touch you... and possibly take you back to the palace with him.

He wanted this, he needed this.

You began your ascent to him, stepping on mandibles and maxilla's, eagerly wading to your lover. Sukuna's eyes remained on you, watching your every step upwards towards him. He held his hands together, waiting for you to approach the throne. He couldn't hide his smile as his lips tugged back, seeing you walk towards him. It felt like a dream to him, that after months you were finally approaching him again. It felt like forever.

When you reached the top, Sukuna wasted no time to pull you by your yukata, sending you crashing onto his lap. His head was instantly back to your neck. You helped when you felt his tongue dart out, then his teeth. "Ryo, what the hell?"

Sukuna let out a small chuckle as you complained, but he only placed his lips against the crook of your neck, a small huff leaving him. "I just want to remind myself how you taste. You have no idea how much I missed you, brat. You're going to get me addicted again." Sukuna's voice was almost a growl.

You brought a hand to his hair and gently pulled back, wanting to see his face. "What's got you so eager?"

Sukuna let out an almost growl, glowering at you. "All these centuries, I haven't seen you. Why wait for more time to pass? I'm only getting older." He latched a hand to your neck before sliding it up, to your jaw, where he turned and struck out his forefinger, shoving it past your lips.

Sukuna's fingers threaded through your hair gently, allowing you to move his head back. Sukuna had missed your gentle touch, his eyes narrowing at your question. He wanted to keep you close, never wanting you out of his sight ever again.

Being in his domain expansion, having you in his hold so he could just touch you, see you right in front of him, was heavenly for the King of Curses. It had been months and he had missed you more than he had imagined he would.

His finger gently ran across the inside of your mouth, his scarlet eyes boring into you. He felt that intense, warm feeling in his chest again, his fingers trembling gently against your jaw.

Sukuna slithered his finger deeper into your mouth, nail scratching your throat. "I've wrecked homes, torn villages to shreds. Gutted morons and pests, yet none give me the thrill of seeing you at my mercy." He purred, bringing his free hand to the folds of your dress, and tugging at the seams.

Sukuna ran his eyes over your form, taking you in. He pressed his finger against the back of your throat, his nail scratching it while his other hand tugged at the seams of your clothes, trying to get the fabric to move more so he could see more of your waist.

Sukuna's eyes flicked down to your cleavage, feeling his breath hitch as he huffed. He wanted your damn clothes gone, just seeing it only irritated him more.

He had missed feeling you in his hold. He missed you against his chest, his large hands roaming over your body. Sukuna wanted to mark you. He wanted to leave marks all over you, making every other sorcerer know that you belonged to him and him alone.

He wanted to ruin you.

Sukuna grunted, your dress not coming off, so he would use the one thing he thought of. You whimpered as you felt flames kiss your skin, before your yukata was in ashes, presenting you almost bare, bar your underwear. Sukuna let out a pleased grunt as he watched your dress disintegrate into ash. He wanted to see more, and you in next to nothing was amazing.

He took a minute to admire your half-naked form, running his fingers along your skin, taking advantage of the skin-to-skin contact he had missed for months with a hum.

You choked on his finger, squirming in his lap. It was unfair how he was fully clothed, you thought. Sukuna could smell your arousal, could sense it, but he was fine with it. He'd get to that in due time. He wasn't going to move fast.

As you squirmed in his lap, his hand moved to your thighs, his fingers digging his nails into the skin there to hold you still, his thumb tracing small circles on your inner thighs. Sukuna's own clothing felt constricting. He wanted you. He wanted you here and now, to feel you against him, for you to belong with him.

His grip on your inner thighs tightened, as his lips pressed against your collarbone, kissing it and sucking harshly. Sukuna wanted to leave his mark on your skin, to claim you as his own.

You reached your hands to between the two of you, digging them under the cream coloured fabric of his kimono, trying to pull it free. Slowly, the fabric peeled back to reveal his rippling, inked muscles. It wasn't enough, eagerly you tugged further down the kimono, pulling at the cloth around Sukuna's waist until he too was bare; rock hard and leaking, achingly thick and blissfully long.

You blinked up at him, giving him your best pleading expression, even with his finger far in your mouth, just needing to be filled by him.

Sukuna saw how you looked up at him, seeing your expression. What a sight it was as he kept his own large finger moving inside your mouth. He wanted you, so badly, he wanted to completely take you.

Sukana removed his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting from it to your lips. His large hands fell on your waist, lifting you a bit. Noticing how you immediately reacted to that, his lips pulled into a smirk as he watched your expression

"Please, Ryo? Need you to be inside me." You begged, fruitlessly jutting your hips, earning faint pleasure between your legs, though it would never suffice.

Sukuna felt himself twitch in anticipation as your words, a low growl escaping his throat. That's what he had missed the most, hearing you like that, hearing you beg for his touch. He grabbed your hips, pinning them down.

He wanted to break you, make you forget anything apart from him, but he wasn't going to move fast. He took his time, he wanted to take you slow, make it last long and just relish the feeling of you being back in his arms. "Are you so impatient for me, brat?" He cooed

Sukuna gently traced his fingertips along the lace fabric of your underwear, his eyes looking up to meet yours. A smirk tugged at his lips as he ran his fingertips over you, teasing you.

"Yes. Just, please? I need this as much as you do." You whined, shooting a hand to your underwear and shoving it to the side, now presenting your dripping cunt.

Sukana let out a low, pleased growl. He loved how you were so eager for him, it was satisfying. He watched you impatiently as you pleaded, his smirk still on his lips. "So eager for me, huh?" Sukana taunted, knowing the answer as his fingers traced small shapes against your inner thighs, his nails scratching the skin. "You think you can take me? It's only one cock, yet you still struggle. Maybe I need to stretch that pussy." Sukuna huffed, bringing two, thick digits to your hole.

So in a blink of an eye, he plunged his fingers inside, not giving you any prep before hand. You let out a loud moan, it echoed through the domain, fingers curling around the fabric on Sukuna's shoulders. "Oh, my god!" Sukuna began to piston his fingers, scissoring the two as he thrusted them into your pulsating hole.

Sukana let out a small groan, just how he remembered, you weren't quiet even a little. Not that he minded, he loved it.

He groaned, his eyes fixated on you as he watched your expression. All the noises you made filled his head, he wanted to listen to you, all night. He wanted to break you, claim you, and make you his again. He curled his fingers, hitting that one spot inside you, that had your toes curl and your mind fog up.

Sukuna's eyes flicked up at your reaction, a pleased, low chuckle escaped his lips as he curled his fingers. He knew that spot, knew it well. After all, it's not like this was his first time doing this to you.

He wanted to hear you beg for more, he loved it. He pressed his fingers against it again, enjoying the way your chest heaved, making more noises for him as the two of you sat on the throne. Sukuna smirked at the faces you made, bringing a hand to your breasts, second mouth forming on his palm, before his lips wrapped around your sensitive nub.

Your sensitive body seemed to react so quickly to Sukana's every move, and he loved everything about it. This was his kingdom, and you were currently his queen, in front of him, in his lap, and all his. Not to mention the small moans he heard leaving you, the way your nails dug into his skin, driving him nearly insane over you.

Sukana's lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple, his cursed energy wrapping around you as his tongue moved in soft, but precise circles over it. He was working you well, making you whine and moan for him in the quiet domain, filling the silence with your sounds of pleasure, a chorus to his ears as it bounced off the walls of his domain. The small moans and noises you made were music to his ears. Sukana wanted you to feel good, to feel him take over you, and the way you arched into his lips showed he was doing just

"P-Please, Ryo? Can't wait anymore, need to feel you..."

Sukana almost smirked, almost. Hearing you beg him, call his name like that. It drove him insane, and he needed to give in. He moved, picking you up, and moving you out of his lap so he could stand, pinning you against the throne.

He stood before you, holding you against the throne as he looked down at you, his hands on your waist. "Fine, brat. I'll give you what you want," Sukuna clicked his tongue, moving his hips until his throbbing, red tip was aligned with your entrance. "But don't say it's too much."

In one, fluid movement, he thrusted himself in. His cock stretched your cunt beyond its limits, and what was scary is this wasn't the biggest he could be.

He grunted softly, his eyes falling close for a brief moment as he savored the feeling of you around him. He loved this. He loved the feeling of you, the way you felt around him, the way you were his. Sukana held your waist, his fingers pressed into your skin there as he looked you over. He couldn't believe he had you back, like this too.

Sukuna was merciless. Pounding away into you like there was no tomorrow, causing the throne to shift on the bones and skulls. All you could do was take the bullying between your legs, screaming his name, nails clawing at his shoulders. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Love your cock, so much, my lord!"

His title that fell from your lips sent a shiver through him. If anyone knew you had him wrapped around your finger, he'd be a dead man. He huffed and grunted into your ear, breath hot on your skin. "Such a filthy mouth you have, my lady."

You whined, staring up at your lover with teary eyes, mouth agape and blabbering sweet nothings.

Sukuna loved seeing you be so submissive, to him, calling him your lord, your king. He would only let that slide with you. His lips met your neck, kissing and biting at the skin there, leaving marks behind.

The way you felt around him was addicting, and having you beg for him made it better. He had missed this feeling, this pleasure, with you for so long he wanted to savor it. Sukana wanted this to last as much as he could, to make you feel good, and to take you here in his domain.

Sukana's lips traveled up from your neck, to your lips, as he pressed his own against yours in a searing kiss, he moved his tongue over your lips, licking them. He wanted to taste you in every sense he could.

Sukana swallowed all the noises you were making, each noise of yours just added to his enjoyment. He wanted more, more of you. Sukana let his tongue slip into your mouth, exploring and tasting you completely.

The bones of his throne dug into your shoulders, and the buck horns of it dug into your shin. It only added to the pleasure, your nails scratching at his skin, everything did. Sukana wanted to feel it all, the way you felt and sounded as he took you.

Sukana grunted into your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours, his hands now moving to your thighs, and he lifted you up from the throne, using it for leverage, as his hands moved just enough to grip you thighs so he could start moving you again.

He wanted to feel every bit of you, and he didn't want to let you go. He couldn't, so he pushed more, wanting it all. Sukana wanted you to be his in every sense of the word, and now was not the exception. He wanted you to be his, his queen, his lover, his.

He wanted you to call his name, to moan it, scream it, anything. He wanted to ruin you, break you, and claim you as his and his. He wanted to claim and break you all, make you forget anything other than him, anything else.

The moans that left your lips sounded so sweet to him, even sweeter than honey. This was what he had missed, the pleasure the two of you shared, and the feeling of the two of you melting into each other. Sukana wanted to break you, ruin you, make you his for the next days, weeks, months, or years. Sukana was making you feel so good your mind turned to a mess.

You felt everything as he took you. How he moved you, the throne digging into your back, his large hands on your body, making you feel the heat coming off of him. Sukana's lips on yours as he claimed your mouth, his tongue pushing into your mouth, his grunts of pleasure right against you.

Your mind turned to a mess every time Sukana moved, and every moment. It was almost hard to form words with him, but he was perfect.

Sukuna loved the way you moved with him, how you tried to take him as he moved, how you tried to make him feel good too in return. Sukana groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin. He loved every second of it, enjoying taking you, breaking you for him.

The feeling of the coil in your tummy tightening was driving him insane, it had been so long since he remembered those signs or saw them from you, but now he was so glad it was back like that.

His movements only got more intense, wanting to see you fall over the edge. Sukana could feel yourself start to tighten around him, the way you would squeeze him in response and it only made him push more. He was desperate for you, wanting to feel and watch you break as you reached your orgasm with him, coating his fat cock with your cum, crying out as you did, while he stuffed you full of his.

He groaned into your mouth, panting and grunting as he moved his lips to your neck again, suckling on the skin there. He wanted to mark you as his, so everyone would know who you belonged to, to him.

There was no one else you belonged to, that would make his blood boil. You belonged to him and nothing would change that.

Your body fell limp, breathing into Sukuna's mouth as you were well worn. Sukana held you up as you went limp, only holding you more. He wasn't done yet but he let you relax for the moment while he looked at you, his fingers gently roaming over your body for the moment, his chest heaving as he also tried to catch his breath.

He still loved to simply hold you and touch you however he could. His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there, adding more marks from his lips, marks to show you were his.

"Ryo...do we have to go back?"

Sukana did not like the thought of having to go back. It was nice being in the domain just with you, being able to hold you and make you his. But he knew this wasn't permanent. Sukana moved his lips from your skin, bringing his fingers under your chin to tilt you to look up at him. “Yes, unfortunately I don’t have full control over this brat so sooner or later I’ll be turning back. But trust I’ll find away to be with you again.”

But that wouldn't always be an option, he knew he would have to go back eventually. For now he savored the moment of having you in his hold, being able to touch you and hold you against him.

And even if it was for a few minutes more, you had your Ryo back.

[haveihitanerve]

sobbing.

Batman, Bruce Wayne, Brucie- it doesn't matter what you call him, at his core, its all the same.

He's a sickeningly optimistic optimist, though people'll have you believe he's not. But he is. Because he has so much hope for the world, for the people, he sees the good in everyone, everything, is intent to pry it out of them himself if he has to, and plaster it across every billboard in the city if that's what it takes for them to believe him.

Batman is every old man at a gas station who buys you a soda because you didn't have enough quarters. He's every college kid at a bus stop, handing you his umbrella because its raining and you don't have one. He's every old lady patting you affectionately on the cheek and telling you, "you're such a nice young man/woman aren't you?"

Bruce is every child that surprises you with a spontaneous hug, grinning up at you like with one smile it can wipe every bad thing from the world. He's every toddler that frowns in determination, desperate to lead the spider outside instead of letting Dad kill it.

He's every act of kindness, every bit of hope, every spark of goodness in everyone.

Batman might not be the first person people think of when asked to imagine a good person. But he should be.

Because no matter what you've done, no matter how worthless you think you are, no matter how many people you've hurt or however many crimes you've committed, he'll show up to bail you out, and he'll still offer you a hand up off of the floor.

Because he cares goddamnit, and he'll risk the flames if it means you're not alone.

if you were at your worst, if you’re a villain or a screwup or whatever, there is a goth man dressed as a giant bat who keeps coming after you, bothering you. he sabotages your journey of self destruction over and over. ur ready to give up but he won’t let you. you think, today he won’t come. today he will give up on me too. he never does.

[ghosty-writes-23]

Kneeling Before Her. - Leon S Kennedy.

Ghosty's Notes: okay so this was a random idea I had randomly thinking about Wife!FemReader + Older!Leon (Between Damnation & Vendetta.) also I wrote this on my phone which is something I don't normally do, but it's like 2am and I can't be stuffed grabbing my laptop, so please forgive me if their is alot of spelling mistakes.

Summary: Y/n and Leon had been fighting alot lately, but even with how much they where fighting it didn't stop them from desiring each other.

NSFW Tags: Smutty Content, Eating Out, Pleading, Body Worship, Desperate!Husband!Leon, Hope for the future, Happy Ending.

Used Pet Names: Darling, Sweetheart, Princess, Love, Good Boy, My Wife.

| ID!PROFESSOR!LEON COMING IN 2 DAYS |

!Unedited!

Word Count: 1.9k

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Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty :] ❤️🦝

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Y/n and Leon had been fighting alot recently, from small things such as dirty dishes in the sink to Y/n tripping over Leon's alcohol bottles and she had enough. Tonight was like any other night, Leon was coming home from a mission and smelt like a brewery, the pair had argued yet again, Y/n was upset Leon had come home drunk and Leon was trying to justify he wasn't that drunk yet he could barley walk a straight line, she had guested one of the staff from the bar had called him a taxi because there was no way in hell he would be able to drive in the state he was in.

Sometimes she felt as if Leon treated her as if she was dumb, she knew this wasn't what he really thought of her, but when he was drunk he would treat her as if she was an idiot and it was getting on her last nerve, there is only so much a person can take before they snap, as Leon passed out on the living room couch Y/n had thrown a blanket over him and left a bottle of water and Advil on the coffee table before going upstairs to what used to be their shared bedroom.

Leon mostly slept in the spare bedroom when he was home, it was strange feeling to feel alone in her own house even with Leon home. Shaking her head Y/n closed the door and started to get ready for bed, such as doing her nightly routine of showering, changing into comfortable pajamas, drying her hair and doing nightly skincare and brushing her teeth and taking the last of her medication for the day.

When she got into bed, she couldn't help but wonder how did her and Leon's relationship end up like this, she knew Leon had alot of trauma before they had met, he had warned her that he wasn't the most easiest person to get along with but that didn't stop Y/n, she didn't see Leon as the government agent or the weapon that most people seemed too, but just a man that had the worse timing most of the time but once he started to open up he was a complete sweetheart.

When they had gotten married Y/n and Leon had gotten married in 2006 she thought everything would be perfect, they would have a house maybe out of town, maybe a fixer upper they could do together as a couple project, like an old historical cottage that has a nice front yard where she could plant flowers, maybe have a dog or a cat.

Leon would have left the government and got a less dangerous job after he found out she was pregnant, everything was meant to fall into place, but sometimes promises are broken even by the people we love the most, this had lead Y/n to start wondering was Leon still the man she had fallen in love with and married all those years ago, or was that man gone and replaced with an drunk, anger hollow shell of his former self.

Shaking her head Y/n turned off her bedside table lamp and layed back in bed, all this thinking was hurting her brain so she decided to try and get some sleep, even if she had to force herself too.

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Later on in the night the small city apartment was quiet, the only sound was a ticking clock and the soft hum of the fridge, but upstairs their was a soft buzzing sound and muffled soft mews filtering from under the door. Y/n had her eyes closed as she worked the toy on it's medium setting, after forcing herself to sleep only to end up tossing and turning, she knew the perfect thing to put her to sleep.

It was the ultimate relaxer or so she thought, her bottom lip was between her teeth as her middle finger and ring finger where working her clit, her other hand was working the toy inside her quivering walls. She couldn't remember the last time she had to use her toy to get off, usually her fingers would work just fine but she knew her body was craving something or somebody else.

In her mind was replying the last time Leon had touched her, when her hands where gripping his pillow as her hand was buried in it, his hand was in her hair, tugging firmly but not to roughly as he thrusted into her from behind, he had come home from a stressful work day and needed to let off some steam and who was she to say no to her husband, with Leon's stamina they would at least go for 2 maybe 3 rounds.

But she was soon pulled out of her fantasy when she heard footsteps, she slowly turned off the toy before hearing a soft knock on the door. "Come in." Y/n spoke softly soon the door opened and Leon sheepishly walked in only wearing his briefs and no short, he looked more sober but their was still bags under his eyes. "Did I wake you?" Y/n asked causing Leon to shake his head as he closed the door behind himself.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart." Leon spoke as he started walking towards their old shared bed, Y/ was at a lost for words this was the first time he apologized for anything in the past few weeks, so she was a little surprised but before she could get any words out, Leon slowly lowered himself to his kneeled in front of her, his head down as if he couldn't make eye contact with her.

"I'm so sorry for being a shitty husband, I know I should have come to you, I just didn't want to burden you with my problems, I wanted to protect you from them, but instead I did the exact opposite." Leon says before he shakes his head before finally he looks up at her. "I know I don't deserve you Y/n or your forgiveness, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you." Leon says causing her heart to skip a beat.

"You really hurt me." Y/n started and Leon put his head down like a puppy that was in trouble, "I know princess." Leon says shamefully. "But I am willing to forgive you if you promise this behavior stops now okay, I want you to go to counseling and get help." Y/n says and Leon listens and nods his head. "I'll start looking in the morning." Leon says causing Y/n to smile ever so slightly and nod her head, maybe this wasn't the end of their marriage.

"Good." Y/n said and just as she was about to move over in the bed, Leon reached out to grab her wrist to stop her, but as he did she knew he felt her hand was wet, she saw his eyes widen slightly before he started to bring her hand to his lips. "Leo-." she tried to protest but soon his lips where around her fingers.

the warm and soft feeling of Leon's mouth on her fingers caused her to gasps softly, their was something so erotic about a man on his knees lapping and sucking his wife's juice's off her fingers, especially a man that hasn't tasted her in months. she watched Leon her thighs clenching together as his tongue gently gliding between her fingers.

But soon Leon let her finger's go with a soft pop, a string of his saliva was between her now drool covered fingers and his lips, he looked up at her she could see the desperation and the lust in his eyes, because her were probley mirroring the same look ad if she was honest she was too pent up to let this moment slip through her fingers.

"Can I have more." Leon asked his voice was more husky but still had a slightly desperateness to it. "Will you be a good boy?" Y/n asked with a small tease in her voice but Leon nodded his head quickly, instead of getting up onto the bed so he could be comfortable, Leon was still kneeling on the ground but moved her so she was sideways on the bed but her ass was on the edge of the bed.

Leon started peppering kisses down her ankle, to her legs and then to her thighs, her body was starting to warm up, her thighs clenching with every soft press of his lips, she was nearly about to put him in a headlock between her thighs. When he finally got the edge of her panties that she knew where soaked, she let out a little mew as she could feel his warm breath against her.

"Please can I taste you now sweetheart." Leon softly pleaded as he looked up at her, she knew he was pulling the puppy dog eyes but even with the bags under his blue eyes and the stubble on his face that she knew would be scratching against her inner thigh. Y/n nodded her head again biting her lips.

She could see a small smile come onto Leon's face, as his index finger hooked into the side of her panties, he then lent in and placed a gentle kiss on her aching clit and quivering folds causing a soft moan to leave her lips and her fingers to go into his dark hair. She heard Leon groan softly as he started to lick and suckle as if he was savoring every moment of this.

His name falling off her lips in sweet moans and mews, the sound filled the bedroom as she gently gripped his hair, this was what she had missed the most between their fighting, she missed the intimacy between them, the love, affection, desire, want and need for each other what they can only get for each other, it almost made tears spring to her eyes.

Looking down Y/n saw Leon's face was buried between her holds, his eyes closed as he feasted on her like a starved man, she knew she wasn't going to last long as she already felt the familiar knot forming in her stomach. "It's okay, darling you can come for me." Leon grunted against her flesh, his stubble starching against her inner thighs.

With Leon's permission she came on his tongue with a high pithed cry of his name, her back slightly arching off the bed as her thighs trembled around his head, Leon helped her ride out her orgasm before he pulled away after placing a gentle and loving kiss on her folds, his face was coated in her slick but their was a small blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, there was a slightly glazed over look in his eyes.

But when she looked down, saw that Leon's cock was straining through his brief's he shook his head before slowly standing up. "Tonight was about you, I'll do deal with this." Leon spoke causing her to pout slightly but she nodded his head, he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before he headed to the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom.

Maybe this was the start of the new beginning, maybe their was hope for their relationship, Y/n could only hope and pray but this was a good start and it could only get better for here....

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2025. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[sariyastars]

🕷 Silk and Shadows

I. Shattered Threads

Pairing: Older! Damian Wayne x Spider! Reader Synopsis: While fighting a multiversal anomaly, Spiderlily is thrown into a city of shadows. With their Gizmo shattered and no way home, they discover Gotham’s dangers are far greater than they ever imagined. But giving up is not an option, because with great power, comes great responsibility. TW: Violence, Anxiety, Light Injury, Threatening Creatures, & Disorientation Word Count: 3,601

The city lights of New York had begun to flicker on, as the sun slowly fell over the building's horizons. For the past week, you have been running on pure willpower. Between starting university, working, maintaining a personal life, and keeping up with New York as the friendly neighborhood Spiderlily, it has been difficult to say the least. You loved your life, but being (y/n) and Spiderlily was beyond demanding. 

Bells of the cafe chimed, as you turned to greet the customer. While attending New York University, you worked at a local cafe part-time to help with the bills. The cafe was a small and cozy place, just off of a corner 10 minutes away from NYU. As you lift your head up from wiping the counters, you see your two best friends bounce in. 

Lenora Peterson, better known as Leni, has light brown medium-length hair that curls just a bit at the ends and big golden brown eyes that somehow always seem to have a mischievous glint to them. Leni is the crazy engineer type. She has quite the passion for crafting things and trying out new scientific experiments that should probably be considered illegal. You guessed that being a Mechanical Engineer major allowed her to create such strange machinery whenever she pleased. 

Hanley Munoz, also known as LeyLey, stands at 5'10" with fluffy brown hair styled to the side. His green eyes, often framed by his black thick rimmed glasses, are calculating. Kind but never sure. Hanley was never great with social cues and is trusting to a fault, but is incredibly intelligent despite this. Majoring in Biochemistry, he dedicates most of his time playing lacrosse for the NYU team. 

And then there was you. NYU Biophysics major and local spider-hero. The three of you were like the Three Stooges. Ever since middle school, you were always seen together and rarely ever apart. Participating in multiple different science fairs and other events together. However, you never wanted to involve them in your private life as Spiderlily. It did not take long for Leni to figure out your identity, but Hanley still has not yet seemed to catch on. His lack of awareness played well for you, and you planned to keep it that way. 

Although, ever since Leni has found out about Spiderlily, she began to self-proclaim herself as your ‘man in the chair’. While you were adamantly against this for a while, she ended up becoming one of your greatest assets. She has helped you improve and fix your gadgets when you didn’t have the time. She’s guided you through the city countless times. She has even made your spidersuit. Now, Leni was no seamstress. Except for when the fabric involves vibranium. How she managed to get her hands on a vibranium custom spider suit for you is beyond your comprehension. You’ve learned it’s best not to ask her these kinds of questions. Especially when it's handed to you on such a nice silver platter. 

The smell of coffee washes over you once again as you place your cleaning rag off to the side of the counter. Both Leni and Hanley make their way up to the register to greet you. 

“And how may I help you guys today?”, you ask playfully, meeting them at the front register with your hands on the counter and your head tilted to the side. 

“Our usuals please, madam.”, Leni retorts back in a terrible fake British accent. Her arm is slung around Hanley’s left one, whose hands are in his pocket. His Lacrosse bag is slung on his right arm, along with his school bag. The two both seem tired from the day, but Leni seems to be a bit more energetic as she is tugging Hanley back and forth as she sways.

You note the tired eyes Hanley has while he attempts to stifle a yawn. Presumably exhausted from his classes and Lacrosse practice. You look over to Leni who is now pulling out her wallet. Guess it was her turn to spot for coffee.

As you type up their usual coffee orders, you read it out loud to them- “So, that’ll be one blended medium vanilla frap and one extra large salted caramel cold brew.”.

“Oh! Can you add 5 extra shots to my cold brew.”, Leni quickly pipes in.

You look up at her with a stoic stare. “You’re joking. Right?”

“No, I have some essays I have to suffer through tonight for English 1301, and our personal project I want to complete.”, Leni finishes with an obvious wink at you. Hinting at the new spider gadgets she has been working on for the past week.

“What? You got something in your eye?”, Hanley questions, turning his head to Leni with a weird look of confusion.

You both are so lucky Hanley is as oblivious as he is. Truly.

Your eyes roll at this as you let out a soft chuckle. “Legally, no. Cold brews are already at max level of caffeine and it would be illegal for me to add any more. So, no.”

Leni scowls at your response, her lips pursing together in thought. “Can you leave some space in the cup and give me 5 shots on the side?”

You both stare at each other for what seems like a long moment. You are lucky the cafe is not busy at this hour. 

“Fine.”, you state while typing it into the system, your face still deadpan before letting out a soft smile. Leni cheered at this and tapped her card on the card reader. 

“What? No tip?”, you tease her again. She playfully sticks her tongue out at you, while Hanley begins to pull out a couple bucks from his wallet and drops it into your tip jar.

“Thank you, HANLEY.”, you emphasize his name. Leni laughs at this and begins to drag Hanley towards their usual table. Hanley grunts in response, as if saying ‘no problem’, as he allows himself to get dragged away from the counter. You laugh as well and begin to turn away to work on their drinks. You were the only barista for the closing night shift today. 

After handing Leni and Hanley their drinks, you lean against the counter as you all chat about your days. Leni is venting about her English 1301 essay she needs to complete. One hand is holding her coffee, that she had poured the 5 extra shots of espresso into, and the other is waving around in the air. “It’s 2 pages TOO long.”, she sighs exasperatedly. Drama queen.

On the other hand, Hanley is mostly quiet. Listening intently to Leni while sipping his vanilla frappuccino. He speaks about his coach and his teammates once in a while, but his schedule remains relatively consistent compared to Leni. 

You love moments like these. Where it’s just the three of you without the weight of anything else on your shoulders. No NYU scholarship kid. No Spiderlily. Just (y/n), and their best friends. 

The cafe is quiet now, with only the three of you left. It is 8pm, just about closing time. You sigh softly, now beginning the closing routine. As you clean up the cafe, you glance over to Leni, who’s sketching something on a napkin, and Hanley, who’s absorbed in his phone. Just for a moment, everything feels normal. 

With the closing routine completed, you lock the cafe up. The metallic click of the lock hit your ears, signaling that the door was properly closed and secure for the night. Leni stood beside you, watching as you locked the door, while Hanley stood a couple steps farther away- adjusting his bags on his shoulders. 

Just as you had removed your key from the lock and turned to face them, your Gizmo buzzed on your wrist, notifying you of yet another anomaly. You quickly glance at the watch that was now lighting up beneath your hoodie’s sleeve. Ignoring the watch, you give Leni a knowing look before glancing over to Hanley who was now yawning. His breath was visible with the cold crisp air. 

“Heyyy, oh my gosh. Completely forgot. I have a huge project to work on tonight that I really need to focus on. Rain check on our study group tonight?”, you ask hesitantly while slowly backing up, ready to run to your apartment.

Leni, always being your cover, quickly grabs Hanley’s arm and begins dragging him in the opposite direction. “Yep! No worries, Hanley and I can just work on other stuff. Isn’t that right, Leyley.”

Before Hanley can respond, Leni is already pulling him farther away. His eyebrows are scrunchies in confusion, but is accepting of his fate. Leni waves in your direction as the two slowly get farther and farther away.

“Bye! We’ll see you tomorrow!”, she waves excitedly. Hanley looks back as well, throwing up a small wave and smile.

Once the two were far enough, you rapidly whip yourself around and book it towards your apartment. The cold air was sharp against your face as you ran home. While running, you pull back the sleeve of your hoodie to read your Gizmo that was continuing to buzz for your attention.

ATTENTION: ANOMALY DETECTED- HIGH PRIORITY

The screen flickered with a brief glitch, just for a moment, before the alert stabilized. Your heart sped up a bit more and a knot tightened in your chest. “High priority?”, you whispered to yourself, your breath visible in the cold air. It has been a long while since you had such an urgent anomaly from the Spider-Society. You were grateful Leni was able to pull Hanley away so efficiently. 

Busting into your apartment, your bag tumbled across the room as you swung yourself into your bedroom. You quickly rip your spidersuit from your hidden wardrobe compartment and throw it on. The suit is sleek and form-fitting. Vibrant crimson web lines flow out from the center of your chest, with patterns similar to that of a spider lily at the base of your boots. Your spider logo is black, like the rest of your suit, with scarlet accents and covers a majority of your chest and shoulders with its long legs and stylized body. 

With a quick tug on your mask, you flatten the fabric around your neck and head towards your back apartment window. It creaks as you push it open, letting a gust of the cold night’s air. Luckily you could not feel much of it through the suit, as it was well insulated with its own warmer. You hop over the window’s sill, gripping to the wall, and push it back shut.

Dangling off of the wall, 5 stories up in the air, you check your Gizmo again to locate the anomaly. Downtown. Not terribly far. 

You jumped off of the building and shot a string of web from your wrist, your body twisting as you glided through the city. The New York’s city lights twinkled around you as you flipped past each window. As much as you loved to admire your city, you couldn’t help but focus on the alert on your wrist. A high-priority anomaly was never an easy night. They were world destroying. You had to take care of this anomaly and fast. 

As you swung into the heart of the city, the air and your chest felt heavier. It was almost suffocating. You jumped up, landing on a nearby building of the location, and found the anomaly. It was a large, iridescent vortex of crackling energy. The area around it was distorted, almost as if it was being sucked into it. The vortex pulsed and projected streaks of colors that flickered erratically. 

Your jaw became slightly ajar at the sight, as a dark clawed hand gripped the vortex’s edge. Almost as if it was trying to pry itself out from its gravitational pull. Soon enough, the shadow ripped itself from the vortex. Its body glitched erratically, similarly to that of the vortex itself. It had no distinct features, just the empty silhouette of a creature, and eyes that were nothing but narrow slits. The creature howled, its voice raspy and defective. 

“Jesus Christ.”, you muttered.

Just as you spoke, another clawed creature ripped itself from the vortex that was soon followed by another. Within just moments, multiple of these shadows had clambered through. You swallowed hard, examining the situation. 

“God… Ah, fuck it.”

You flick your wrist, shooting yourself to the closest shadow creature. They had begun to scramble down the street. With a quick dive, you drive your feet into the nearest creature. Curb stomping them as hard as you could. The creature screeched at the impact before glitching bright colors and dispersing into a black mist.

“One down… One too many to go…”, you say looking at your surrounding vicinity that was now infected with these things. 

You barely get a moment before another shadow lunges at you from behind. Your spidey sense had activated, causing you to jump up quickly. Its claws sliced the concrete street that you were just standing on a second ago, leaving a large scratch mark ingrained into it. You managed to land on a light post, but another lunged at you off of the nearby building. Your body twisted as you jumped, attempting to dodge all of these creatures' attacks. Just one hit might render you unconscious. 

Hanging on the side of a metal balcony, you watch as three more creatures advance toward you. While there were no distinctive figures to them, it almost felt as if they were predators- hunting their prey. Their eyes were locked onto you. Their movements seemed calculated, oddly robotic, and trained onto you. 

The first shadow attacked from below, scaling up the building quickly- tearing into the brick as it raced up. You jumped off of the creaky metal balcony, getting away just in time before webbing yourself up towards another building. As you jumped, you twisted your body around to shoot a web directly at its supposed face. The web hit, covering its face in the sticky strands. It immediately reached up to claw it off of its face, releasing the creature from the building and causing it to fall. A glitchy hiss echoed your ears as the creature was falling. It was not long before the creature hit the ground, dispersing into a glitch of bright colors and black mist- just like the first one. 

Another creature advanced towards you, leaping off of the previous creature's body right before it had hit the concrete. Swinging on your web, you redirected your momentum to make a tight turn and kick the creature with all of your weight. The force from your kick sent the creature through a wall as it yelled and dispersed. 

“So sorry tax-payers!”, you yelled out, still swinging and webbing the creatures as you moved by. 

You continued to take them down as quickly as possible. All it seemed to take was one good hit to destroy them, but there were just so many. You had to handle it by closing the vortex.

As you were thinking, you could hear a shriek cutting through the yells of the shadows. It was sharp and fearful. Your head quickly snapped in the direction of the scream; your spidey sense rang. Abandoning the creatures in front of you, you immediately zipped towards the voice.

There, a young woman stood shaking on the side of the street. Her phone was raised, held tightly in her hands as it recorded a creature about to pounce on her.

“Run!”, you yelled at her, but she did not move. Her eyes glistened with fascination but her body shook with fear. 

“I said MOVE!”, you yelled once again, charging at her full speed.

The creature was just about to pounce, its claws ready to tear into the woman. You quickly shot out a web and yanked her back towards you. The woman flew across the pavement, still attached to your web. Her beanie had slipped off, but otherwise she was still intact with her phone in her hand.

Where the creature had pounced, was left a small crater in the sidewalk. Cracked and dented. That was going to need quite a bit of fixing.

“Seriously? Risking it all just for what? A TikTok?”, you questioned the woman with a breathy angry sigh, grabbing her beanie and slapping it into her chest. “Now GO.”, you demanded.

“But I-”

Another shadow creature began to approach.

“GO!”

The woman nodded at this and quickly scampered off at the sight of it. The creature screamed once again, charging at you like a bull. 

“Always giving me more work.”, you muttered to yourself.

As the creature charged, you jumped up and shot two webs on the street below you. Once it had ran under you, you used the momentum of your webs to slam yourself down onto it.

You continued to take down more shadow creatures as you made your way back towards the vortex that was now pulsating rapidly.

“Okay, Spiderlily.”, you spoke to yourself. “How do we close a giant neon pulsating shadow puking multiversal portal? The answer is totally obvious. Came in the spidey handbook!”

Landing on the same building as the vortex, you look up at it. Analyzing it.

“Think, Spiderlily. Think.”, you whispered, staring deep into its colors.

It did not look like your typical portal. It was cracked, ripped- unstable with frayed ends. Everything about it was simply unnatural. It throbbed violently and seemed to distort reality itself. This anomaly was different from your usual ones. You couldn’t open a portal and kick this portal into it. There had to be a way to reverse it. You just didn’t know how. 

Eventually, you decide that any attempt is better than no attempt. So, you began to pull at the edges of the vortex with your hands and attempt to physically shut it. Sure, there is probably a better solution, but there wasn’t much time and your options were looking relatively limited.

Good news though, the vortex was moving. It was closing with the force you were putting into it. Feeling it slowly inch, you began to pull harder. Soon enough you were close enough to grab the other edge of it with your hand and were now able to pull both ends towards the center. 

“Come on…Come on!”, you grunted through your teeth.

The vortex continued to thrash against you, colors flying out of it as some left over shadows shrieked in the distance. You were nearly there, with just a bit more you would be able to forcibly shut it closed.

Just as you were about to give the last pull, you saw a flash of movement come from behind you and a ringing in your head. Within a split second, you feel a kick on your back. With no time to react, you fall into the vortex.

You felt a surge of panic as you were kicked into the vortex. As you fell, you could see a humanoid shape stand at the end of the vortex you had just fell through. It was glitchy, shadowy, just like the creatures you fought before. However, it held a more sinister smile to it.

Your surroundings dissolved into a blur of glitchy bright lights and colors as the world around you fractured into jagged shards. Your senses were overwhelmed, caught in the series of spiraling portals. Each one flew past you like windows into other dimensions. Worlds you didn’t recognize.

Soon enough, the vortex had spit you out. You tumbled across yet another rooftop, the gravel scratching your sides as you rolled. It took a moment, but you eventually were able to push yourself up- groaning as you held your side. Definitely bruised.

You looked around at your surroundings. The colors of this world were relatively similar, but somehow darker. As you stood up, you immediately checked your Gizmo. The screen was cracked, a bit glitchy, but still responded when you touched the screen. You sighed at this and immediately looked to see what universe you were pushed into. Hopefully, if you were lucky, it would be one of your other spider friends.

As soon as you clicked the screen for it, the Gizmo beeped.

ERROR: UNREGISTERED DIMENSION

“...What?”, you whispered. It glitches again. 

You attempt to recalibrate it, however nothing seems to work. You continue to get the same notification. Bewildered, you slap the watch on your wrist. Every dimension is registered, even if the Spider-Society does not have all of the spiders from each one. This was supposed to be impossible.

A wave of anxiety washes over you after minutes of attempting to recalibrate it. Your knees were buckling, realizing that there was no way to fix it without any tools. Getting back was going to prove more difficult.

“No, no, no, no!”, you yelled as you continued to slap it- not knowing what else to do. Your breath quickened as you stared in disbelief. You were stranded. 

Your heart pounded in your ears at this thought as you turned your attention to your surroundings. The buildings were similar to New York, but the streets sounded different. The air was heavier, thicker. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you like some sort of thick fog. The architecture around you was so similar yet so different. Everything was just darker, as if encased in an evercasting shadow. You glanced across the city skyline, your eyes catching onto a beam of light- piercing the foggy night sky. A bat logo.

Shit.

Next ➔

A/N: yay! so happy to finally push out the first chapter. hopefully i keep up the motivation to get this finished. i haven't written creatively in a really long time, so i am a bit rusty. i am also a very slow writer which does not help my case lol. anyway, i hope yall liked it! i think im still tryna get a grip on spiderlily's character, so if you guys have any suggestions for this fic- i am very open to it!! i appreciate all comments, notes, and reposts dearly. <3 this was also inspired by a bunch of fic's i have read in the past and @/yannawayne, so please go check them out!

[duachai]

DE.VIL - BANG CHAN | STRAY KIDS

A fashion designer under a mafia contract is Chan's one and only toy to play with.

Here, baby, take a sip, take a sip. Take a sip, take a sip, lick your lips, lick your lips

♱ PAIRING : BANG CHAN X MALE READER ♱ CONTENT WARNING : This writing contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. ♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE : This was supposed to be for Halloween, but I left it in my notion and then forgot about it. So... then I got carried away... turned it into smut... and then with railway and... well.... it's Chan. ♱ REQUESTED : YES (ANON) LINKS : Wattpad

Lollipops were M/n's stress relievers. His mother, wise to his anxieties, had given him the habit of carrying one at all times. In the face of conflict, the sugary treat became a calming ritual, helping him navigate the tension. 

The urge to pop a lollipop for comfort was eating him alive. However, he knew a childish indulgence wouldn't sit well with the wealthy client scrutinizing his latest masterpiece, or what he thought was one. 

"Is this it?" the client scoffed, slumping back in his chair. "This just looks like a bunch of draped fabric. And it's way too feminine for what I instructed you to. Listen, I respect your achievements, and you can do whatever you please, but this is a complete miss for me. Try again.” 

M/n clenched his jaw, the fingers of his right hand twitching to reach for his hidden stash of lollipops. This was the opposite of S-Class Styles’s brand. His brand thrived on pushing boundaries, not churning out these uninspired black-and-white suits. He craved the opportunity to inject some signature edge, a touch of that S-Class shock factor, to weave a story into the fabric itself. 

S-Class Styles was a front for a darker business, but as the specific gentleman who bought out the place, they offered M/n a secure job to do whatever he pleased, but still he got walked all over. 

And frankly, this was M/n’s fifth project for this man. Could he not catch the hint? 

“Alright, Mr. Jung. I’m sorry this doesn’t fit your… criteria. I’ll work on getting a better version for you.” M/n swallowed his pride, putting on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He kept it moving, something he continued to do through the last six clients until the end of the day. 

The shop lights flickered off one by one, signaling the end of another grueling shift. M/n gathered his belongings and shuffled out, ready to escape the suffocating pressure of client demands. 

As he stepped into the lobby, he was greeted by a figure that instantly made his pulse quicken. Chan, the mafia leader who had an iron grip on the city, was lounging casually on a velvet chair, waiting for him. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, studying M/n with an intensity that left no room for distractions. 

“Bad day?” Chan’s voice was smooth, his presence undeniably commanding. He rose slowly, the tension in his muscles barely contained beneath his perfectly tailored suit, one that M/n made himself. The air around him seemed to shift, and M/n's breath hitched despite himself. 

"All the same," M/n replied, trying to mask the sudden heat crawling up his neck. 

“Mm,” Chan hummed thoughtfully, stepping closer with a predatory grace. He reached up, his thumb grazing M/n’s jawline, a movement that was as casual as it was intimate. "That look on your face tells me something’s eating at you. I don’t like it." 

M/n swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. "It’s nothing. Just business, you know?" 

Chan’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Doesn’t seem like nothing. Why don’t you let me take care of it?” M/n was Chan’s personal... liaison. Chan took care of him and his shop, and M/n took care of anything Chan needed work wise and personally. 

Before M/n could protest, Chan’s hands were at his waist, pulling him into a firm embrace. The sudden closeness was overwhelming and M/n could feel the heat radiating from Chan’s body, and his breath caught in his throat. Bang Chan leaned in, his lips brushing just below M/n’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“You’ve been carrying all that stress around,” Bang Chan whispered, his voice rough and low. "Is there someone bothering you? Let me handle it." 

M/n’s mind raced, but his body betrayed him. He wanted to push away, to retreat, but the pull of Chan was magnetic. He leaned into the kiss, their lips crashing together in a searing kiss. The taste of mint and danger mixed as their tongues tangled in a heated rhythm, all pretense vanishing in an instant. 

“There’s no one,” M/n whispered between the kiss. Chan’s hands moved down to M/n’s hips, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. The space between them vanished as M/n’s lower back pressed against the nearest desk with his sewing machine on it. The sharpness of the suit’s fabric dug into his skin, but it only heightened the fire burning inside him. 

Chan broke the kiss briefly, his lips brushing M/n’s neck as he trailed kisses along his skin. “Are you being honest with me, doll?” he murmured against his collarbone, voice laden with desire. 

M/n’s breath faltered, his hands reaching up, desperate to touch, to claim. The tension, the stress, everything melted under Bang Chan’s touch, and he knew, deep down, there was no turning back now. 

“Answer me,” Chan murmured, his voice dropping to a near growl, “Is there a problem I have to deal with?” His dark eyes searched M/n’s face intently looking for any sign he was hiding something. 

M/n took a breath, pushing Chan back a little as he dropping his head as he sighed. “There’s nothing, I don’t understand why you get so worked up.” Chan’s expression turned as he slightly rolled his eyes, his brows furrowing as he looked down at M/n with a mix of frustration and concern. He reached up, his thumb brushing over M/n’s jawline as he tried to coax him to look up. 

“Your shop looks a reck. Someone came here causing trouble. What I don't understand is why you keep protecting them.” He said sternly, M/n adverting his eyes completely. “When are you going to stop covering for people who clearly don’t give a fuck about you and what you’re doing?” M/n’s shoulders drop and his lips form into a pout. “One of these days, I’m not going to be here to protect you, M/n.” 

“Just stop with your gangster bullshit, Chan.” M/n said, pushing off from leaning on the desk as he grabbed his coat, “I can’t deal with another lecture. I’m going home.” 

Chan’s eyes flashed with a little bit of concern, he bit his anger back as he watched M/n walk away. He knew better than to push too hard, not when he already knew M/n was one for an attitude. With another sigh, he reached back and caught M/n’s arm pulling him back in  front of him, “Stop.” 

“I’m just trying to fucking help,” Chan said, his voice low and dripping with tense as he looked at M/n with slight puppy eyes. “You can’t keep letting people walk all over you, doll. I know you and I know one day you’re going to snap and it’s gonna to be a mess so I’m telling you here right now don’t do that. You’re my cover, so don’t blow it.” 

“I’m sorry, I can do better.” M/n said his lips pushing out. Chan’s expression softened as he pressed his forehead to M/n’s, his hands back at his hips. He became mushy, and folded under M/’s pout, one he could just kiss over and over. 

M/n drew in a gentle breath as Chan nuzzled his face into his neck, placing peppered kisses on the area as he inhaled the scent of cinnamon on M/n’s skin. “You always make it so hard to stay mad at  you,” He murmured, his hands roaming lower. He hooked his fingers under M/n’s waistband, tugging gently. 

“Chan...don’t-” 

Too late. Chan cut M/n off as he lifted the male on top of the desk, stepping between his legs as they wrapped around his waist instinctively. Their lips connected again and M/n moaned in a sexy fit of protests before melting into Chan’s lust. 

Chan’s hands slowly move to M/n’s backside, untucking his dress shirt. His cold hands gently caressed his bare skin as he pressed soft, slow kisses along M/n’s jawline and neck. He unbuttoned M/n’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulder, admiring M/n’s upper body. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Chan cooed, his hand wrapping around M/n’s neck lightly as he tipped his head up to look him straight in the eyes. 

Chan gazed intensely into M/n’s eyes, his grip around M/n’s neck feather-light yet so possessive. “Can you service me tonight, doll?” He asked, Chan’s thumb brushing over his bottom lip before it slipped between his lips, his eyes dilating as through his eyelashes M/n looked up at him so seductive. Chan inhaled sharply as the feeling of M/n’s warm mouth. 

“Open wider.” He commanded. 

“Yes, daddy,” M/n obeyed as Chan guided M/n down onto his knees, keeping his hand on M/n’s cheek as he used his other hand to unbutton his pants. M/n watched with pouty lips glazed in his spit, practically drooling to get Chan back in his mouth. 

“Good boy, now suck.” Chan commanded, releasing his now-hard length from his undergarments, a small bead of moisture already forming at the tip. He pressed the head against M/n’s open mouth, his hand now tangled in M/n’s locks of wild black and white hair, slightly guiding his head forward. 

“Yes...” M/n said in almost a whine, his lounge darting out to lick the tip of Chan, gathering the salty love liquid before sucking gently on the head. Chan’s hand in his hair tightened further, his hips giving an involuntary jerk as M/n’s warm, wet, mouth enveloped him. 

“Fuck,” Chan hissed, his head tilting back slightly at the pleasure M/n brought him. He gently thrust his hips forward, watching himself slowly disappear into M/n’s mouth, “You take me so well, doll. Go deeper, baby.” 

“Mm,” M/n hummed against Chan, his free hand stuck between his underwear as he palmed him in the rhythm of his mouth. Chan tuned on even more, if possible, watching M/n’s pleasuring himself while sucking him off. He throbbed between those perfectly shaped lip. 

“Yes, baby, fuck... just like that, my sweet doll.” 

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna c-cum. Shit,” M/n whined. 

Chan smirked with a hum, those dimples pressing on his cheeks, keeping M/n’s mouth stuffed with his thick length as he found himself pressing his own release too, “Go, baby, go ahead. Do it together” He encouraged. 

“Oh... fuck!” M/n half screamed as he halted for a second his mouth work on Chan just to use his hand to work the same pace on both, only to cum ribbons of his liquds over himself. 

“Mm mm, you’re not done, baby, come take this,” Chan commanded before letting M/n leave him without release. He lead M/n’s mouth back to his dick and stroked himself a few times before completely letting his cum funnel into his mouth. “Such a good fucking boy..” Chan cooed between one like moan as he slowly pulled out of M/n’s mouth. 

As M/n swallowed, he used his thumb to wipe away the drips from his abused and beet-red lips with a sugary, sexy grin, “Look at you, my doll. There’s no way I won’t keep you from everyone else.” 

[batfsm]

I wrote a fanfic for this but I now need a title…and a summary.

Warnings: I don’t say outright in the story, in my opinion, but i imply a lot of child abuse and sexual assault to children. So be careful please.

I do speak of death and drugs but only in passing.

The story is under the cut. It got away from me. I just wanted to write about Jason and Tim running from Bruce and next thing I know Dick and Alfred are in it, Leslie is mentioned as is Jim, Roy, Lian, Oliver, Damian, and Talia. (Cass and Duke are implied.)

I hope you enjoy @ky-landfill. I’m putting it up tomorrow on my AO3 so I’ll edit in the link then. (Hopefully a name and summary also. Especially a title.)

Edit: Figured both out.

Meetings

Summary: A sound had Jason dropping the tire.

A sound had Jason dropping the tire he just took off and reaching for Tim who came willingly.

Tim climbed onto Jason’s back as the older boy started to run, a move they had practiced for hours until they got it smoothly, and Jason gripped his tire iron harder as he moved faster.

A body suddenly dropping in front of him had Jason sliding to a stop and crunching a bit.

Tim peeked over Jason’s shoulder and felt his eyes widen. Other than that the only other reaction was his tightening grip on his elder brother’s shoulders.

Jason glared as he shifted a bit more to hide Tim and lifted his tire iron. “Leave us alone!”

Batman glared. “Why did you take my tires?”

“None of ya business. We aren’t anymore, so let us go.”

“You’re coming with me.” Batman I growled.

“Fuck off, you big boob!” Jason shouted before rushing Batman.

The man was so surprised that he couldn’t stop the hit to his abdomen. As Batman doubled over, Jason ran past as fast as he could.

[They wouldn’t be found for a week and it wasn’t by Batman. Robin, who came back to visit Agent A and was reluctantly patrolling with Batman, though he was internally glad to be home, ran into Tim by accident.

Tim, when faced with one of his heroes, just stared as he had at Batman before grinning and asking Robin if he wanted to come meet his big brother.

Robin, who was told about the story by a mulish Batman, grinned brightly and agreed.

The young boy led the way to their hideout only to find Jason struggling against a man. Robin didn’t even blink as he took the man down and then fussed over the two boys.

Tim clung to Jason who clung back as Robin looked around and then called Agent A who came to pick the boys up and take them to dinner and then Doctor Thompson’s clinic to be looked over.

As Leslie looked the two civilians over, Agent A snuck out and back to the hideout where the downed man was just coming around.

(Commissioner Gordon ended up with a man beaten up and files full of evidence against the man and others hurting children. Jim Gordon took pleasure in slapping charge after charge on the man and the others, including more police officers who he had thought were not corrupt.)

When Agent A joined the trio, Batman was with him. (Bruce had gotten his own hits in when he saw files on Dick and Roy. Oliver had been alerted and was hunting down the men and women in Star City that were a bit to interested in children, especially his son.) Batman, who had found the files and most of the evidence, dropped to his knees and hugged the three boys. He silently vowed to do better in his relationship with Dick and to keep a close eye on the two younger boys and where they would be placed.

Batman redid the vow months later to include all his children when he finally admitted to Alfred and himself that Jason and Tim were best left with the family.

Jason and Tim, like Dick, was the best thing that happened to him.

All his children, present and future were.]

[Roy and Oliver’s arguments in the future would never get as bad as they should have been because Oliver followed Bruce’s example opened up to his son. Roy would be able to fall back on his dad when he started to get addicted and would have the support he desperately needed from the start. Lian would grow and never die since she was with her dad and grandpa all the time and not just Roy.

The whole family would be happier.]

[Jason, by way, never became estranged from the family. He does die but Talia puts him straight into the Pit and then takes him home with Damian.]

Fuck off, you big boob!

[viennakarma]

VIE PLEASE WRITE THE MAFIOSO LEWIS FIC 2IFNEJJFNDJ2JDNJENE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2025 THE MAN DO BE LOOKING SOOOO FINE even Lando had to comment!

inspired by THE pic

LISTEN—

tw: mentions of violence, guns, blood and death

Mafioso Lewis isn’t one for unnecessary violence. He does the job, he gets the money, and go home. He’s not particularly prone to viciousness. He does it right, and swiftly. He doesn't come from generations of a mafia family, no. He is the only to build his own empire from the ground and he is damn good at keeping it working.

He is very happy with separating his work life and his home life. Despite knowing who he was and what he did within the first year you first met him, Lewis always promised to keep you, his wife, his love and life partner, away from his mafia life. You and his children live away from the city, in a place a little far, up a hill with state-of-the-art security and guards.

Until, one day, he needs to go out of the country for a mafia meeting. You stay at home, taking care of the kids, 5 and 3, keeping the house running like you usually do. He's halfway to his destination when you call.

Gunshots.

Gunshots are the first thing he hears as he picks up. And then, your voice, shaky, trembling with some kind of fear he never heard from you before. A fear that takes inside his chest and expands its roots. He slaps himself as his stomach drops, thinking of you, and guns, and the kids and—

You say there are people invading the property, killing all the guards point blank, one by one. And he thinks of his kids that were asleep for the night when he left. He tells his driver to turn back around, to go back home as fast as possible, though he knows he’s too far now, even as fast as possible he’d be home in around two hours at least.

He swallows the burning panic, focusing on you on the call, on calming you down, on telling you about the emergency button in his study, to tell you about the gun hidden inside the piano, to tell you about rushing to the kids, about desperately getting to them before the rivals entered the main house.

That night, when he arrives home, following a trail of blood and dead bodies, he finds you inside the safe room, your small children hiding behind you. Your face and silky pajamas sodden with blood, none of which are yours, your hand holding a gun pointed towards the door.

When he walks in and you put the gun down, he hugs you, his children.

As he looks in your eyes, he sees that fierce, blazing gaze and he knows.

He knows he found his right hand man. His vicious hand.

[witherby]

Please help a starving Anon..... I need more Mother Hen Hal from you...The way you write him and the characters are so good and perfect(idc if anyone disagrees), i am dying../silly/nf

It can have anything you wish to add, maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort (let's not forget the queers(BatLantern) too/verysilly)/lh

Yeah, you can absolutely have more mother hen Hal!!! This one is a little early in the relationship, pre-Flittermouse, and Dick-centric.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen (Dick)

"B! Thanks for coming to get —"

Dick stops and tilts his head as the window of the Lambo rolls down. It's not Bruce, here to pick him up from a celebration at Titan's Tower he was just a smidge too drunk to drive himself home from.

It's Hal.

"Hi, kid," he greets. "Bruce was asleep when you texted. I told him to chill out and I'd get you instead."

"Oh, hi," Dick says, a little off-kilter. His grin only wanes a little. "Yeah. Okay."

He walks around the car and climbs into the front passenger seat, brows furrowed. It's the first time they've been alone together since Bruce told the boys that they started seeing each other.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have you eaten in a while? Might hit a drive-through before we get back. My treat as long as you don't tell Alfred."

Dick nods slowly, staring at Hal like he can't quite figure everything out. Hal just shoots him an easy smile, then focuses his attention on the road.

They're quiet for a while, the radio playing some top 10 hit softly through the speakers neither one of them recognizes. When Hal pulls up to order them some food (and how curious that he knows Dick's usual) then waves away Dick's effort to pay, the man can't help but say something.

"You don't... have to do that."

"It's like thirty bucks, champ. I've got it," Hal chuckles.

"I don't mean the food."

Hal looks at Dick curiously. It's probably the fact that he's still pretty sloshed, but he feels especially vulnerable in the car with him, and can't quite keep his thoughts to himself.

"You don't have to pretend to care about Bruce's kids just because you're dating Bruce." Even as he says it, he knows it was mean and dismissive. Dick chews on the inside of his cheek and can't figure out how to take that back, so he stops talking.

Hal doesn't respond. Dick can't make himself look at Hal's face, so he fiddles with the Nightwing charm dangling off his cellphone.

"Here's your meal, sir. Enjoy," says a fast food employee. Hal thanks her quickly, then pulls into a parking lot and kills the engine. Dick listens to him rustle through the bag and sort out what belongs to whom for a minute, then gently takes his portion from him when it's offered.

"Hey," says Hal. Dick pretends he's too preoccupied with opening the sauce packet for his chicken nuggets to look up. "Okay. I'd probably be a little skittish after dropping a bomb like that, too. So, just listen for a sec, okay?"

"Kay," he mumbles through a mouthful of fries, trying very hard not to feel like he's eight years old and sitting in Commissioner Gordon's office, waiting to find out if Bruce will assume guardianship and take him home, waiting to see if he'd be accepted or rejected.

"I think Bruce is it for me."

Hmm. Okay, not the words he expected to hear, but Dick is listening.

"You've probably heard that from his exes before. Something about Bruce is just...captivating. He's got his own gravitational pull, and I'm not interested in getting knocked outta orbit."

Hal pops a couple fries in his mouth. Dick sees his shoulders shrug in his periphery.

"I'm in love with him, is the point. Have been for a few years now, but I didn't think it was reciprocal until that battle in Coast City. But Bruce isn't just Bruce, is he?"

Hal reaches across the center console to gently squeeze Dick's knee.

"He's Bruce, and Dick, and Jason, and Tim, and Damian. He's got a whole gaggle of wonderful sons I'd love to get to know."

"We've worked together tons of times before," Dick says. He's barely picking at his food, too busy trying to figure out Hal's point.

"Sure. I've worked with Nightwing a lot. But that's not all you are. I don't really know anything about Dick Grayson, and I'd really like to."

Hal pulls his hand away and picks up his burger to take a bite.

"All this to say...I know you guys are mostly grown. You're used to having one parent and don't really need another one, and, damn, I don't know the first thing about any of that. But I'm in this for the long haul, and you can rely on me. I don't want any of you believing you're just an afterthought to me. Okay?"

Oh. Oh.

In lieu of an answer, and also because his throat feels too tight to speak, Dick just nods and goes back to eating. They finish their food in silence and Hal gets out to dispose of the trash, then turns the engine again to take him the rest of the way home. As he parks and they leave the garage, Dick throws his arms around Hal. He pretends the stinging in his eyes is some weird effect from the alcohol when Hal hugs him back just as tight.

"Goodnight, kid," he murmurs. "Go take a glass of water and some ibuprofen to bed with you for that hangover in the morning."

"Yes, mom," Dick snorts, teasing, but he detours to the kitchen with a shy little grin anyway.

[mimiii-3]

would Saboteur reader after getting to metropolis with darling ask (or blackmail idk) Superman for protection

You’re on the right track

…

Saboteur: Two Most Wanted Pt. 2

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: fluff for now

…

The three hour drive to Metropolis was nothing but pure fun. Darling dangling the upper half of their body out of the window while you scream along to the radio.

You swear you laughed more on the drive than you have in your entire life. The stunning skyscrapers of Metropolis come into view and Darling excitedly presses their face against the window.

You pull into a spot next to Metropolis Park and hop out of the car. You twist from side to side and breathe in the big city air.

Darling stands next to the car and fiddles with the end of their sleeves. Their eyes dart around looking for any brooding billionaires.

The batboys wouldn’t know Darling had disappeared yet. It’s only 4am and their patrol usually doesn’t end til 6am.

“Hey. Just relax, ok? We’re good for now,” you make your way around the car and pat Darling’s shoulder. They smile at you appreciatively before focusing on the park.

Darling sniffs and rubs their cold hands together, “So who are we waiting for exactly?”

Before you could answer you hear heavy footfalls from behind. Burly arms wrap around your middle and pick you up.

You yelp as the man spins you around and laughs. “Oh my- Conner put me down!”

Conner snickers and sets you back down. You turn to find his boyish grin and sparkling eyes. “I bet you missed me,” he teases and lightly flicks your arm.

You roll your eyes, “And what if I did?” Conner barks out a laugh and shifts from foot to foot. He looks back down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle.

The undivided attention makes your breath hitch. You try and come up with some corny joke just to hear him laugh again but you’re interrupted.

“Ummm hi?” Darling waves at Conner. Their head is tilted to the side. You can’t help but feel irked at the mock curiosity.

Conner’s focus shifts, “Oh my bad. I’m Conner.”

Darling approaches Conner and holds out their hand. Conner shakes their hand and eyes the red mark that stretches around their neck.

You clear your throat to end the awkward interaction. “I hate to do this Conner, really, I do. But, I need to cash in that favor you owe me,” you drawl.

Conner’s eyebrows raise at your crooked smile, “I’m concerned but I do owe you. What do you want? Name it. I’ll get it done, no problem.”

You take a deep breath and try to suppress your mischievous grin.

“You.”

…

Extra notes: I like to merge the image of 90’s Conner, young justice Conner, and injustice Conner for this particular depiction of him

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[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-two: Power not Pity

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

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Series Masterlist

In-ho’s POV

I left the quiet confines of my office and made my way down the hall, the weight of tonight’s task pressing heavily on my chest. The moment had come. The moment I’d been preparing for since the panther mask had dared to make his move. It was no longer about subtlety, about games or manipulation. This was about sending a message—a loud, resounding message.

The VIP room was as opulent as ever, but tonight, it felt like a cage. The usual tension that lingered in the air, thick with whispers of power and influence, seemed more suffocating than usual. I couldn’t afford to have this simmer for any longer.

When I arrived, the panther mask was in the corner, sitting comfortably in one of the plush chairs, looking out over the city through the tall windows. The mask glinted in the dim light, its polished surface reflecting the cold, calculated silence of the room. He hadn’t heard me approach.

I paused at the entrance, my mind already preparing for what was about to unfold. I could feel the growing rage inside me, the need to assert dominance, to remind him and everyone else who ran this world.

“Still hiding behind the mask?” I asked, my voice low but carrying through the room.

He turned his head slightly, the panther mask gleaming in the half-light, but his posture didn’t shift. He was playing it cool, still believing he could control the situation. Typical.

“I don’t hide,” the panther mask said, his voice smooth, almost too casual. “I’ve always been exactly who I’ve claimed to be. It’s you, In-ho, who likes to pretend. Pretend you can control everything. Pretend you hold all the cards.”

I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face—thin, predatory. “You think you’re the one with the cards? Let me remind you who’s holding the deck.”

Before he could react, I was on him in an instant, closing the distance with a speed that caught him off guard. I grabbed him by the collar of his tailored suit, yanking him to his feet, slamming him into the cold marble of the wall with such force that the impact echoed through the empty room.

His eyes, hidden behind the gold mask, widened briefly with shock. For a split second, I saw the uncertainty flicker in them. Good. He should feel it. Fear was the first step to understanding who truly ruled here.

“You should have stayed in your place,” I hissed, tightening my grip on his collar, my voice low and dangerous. “You crossed a line, and now you’re going to pay for it.”

The panther mask struggled briefly, but I didn’t loosen my grip. I could feel the faint tremor in his body, the subtle crack in his bravado. He was trying to regain control, trying to figure out how to twist this into his favor. It was too late for that.

“You think I’ll just sit back while you try to take what’s mine?” I growled, my face inches from his. “You’ve made a dangerous mistake. And I’m here to correct it.”

I saw him swallow, his confidence draining, his breathing growing shallow. The mask was his armor, but underneath it, he was nothing more than a man. And now, he was finally realizing that I wasn’t some shadow in the background. I was the frontman. And when the frontman speaks, people listen.

“You think this is some game, don’t you?” I continued, pressing my body closer, feeling the heat of his fear seeping through the cold mask. “Well, let me make it clear to you, panther. This isn’t a game. This is my world. And you’re just another player—one I can erase in an instant if I so choose.”

His lips parted, perhaps to protest, perhaps to challenge me, but before he could utter a word, I shoved him back. He staggered, but managed to keep his footing, his hands instinctively moving to adjust the mask, trying to regain composure.

“I don’t need to hear your excuses,” I said, my voice like ice. “You’ll stay out of my way, or I’ll make sure you regret ever thinking you could challenge me.”

The panther mask stood there for a moment, still reeling, but then—surprisingly—he straightened up. His pride, his arrogance, it was all coming back to him. He took a step forward, chin raised. He thought he could salvage this.

“You’ve shown your hand, Frontman,” he said, his voice steady, though I could sense the strain beneath it. “But don’t forget—I’m not the only one who holds power here. There are others who will be watching. Others who may not be as… loyal as you think.”

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head at his arrogance. “You think I’m afraid of threats? I’ve built an empire, panther. I’ve torn down those who thought they could bring me down. Do you really think you’re any different?”

Before he could respond, I moved again, grabbing his arm with such force that it cracked against the marble once more. I leaned in, my lips almost touching his ear, and whispered, “You’ll learn your place. And I’ll make sure everyone else learns it too.”

I could feel his body stiffen, the fear now radiating off him in waves. He was beginning to understand—he wasn’t untouchable. No one was.

With one last shove, I threw him back into the chair where he had once sat so confidently. He sat there for a moment, dazed, the mask slipping further down his face. He was broken. His facade had shattered, and he knew it.

“This is your warning,” I said, my voice cold, final. “Don’t ever cross me again.” He wasn’t going to like what would happen to him if he did.

I turned on my heel, the silence in the room deafening in my wake. The panther mask didn’t move. He couldn’t. His mask wasn’t the only thing cracked now.

As I walked away, I felt a grim satisfaction settle in my chest. This was more than just a lesson for him. This was a reminder to every single VIP in this building. Every single person who thought they could challenge me.

The frontman wasn’t a position to be questioned. And anyone who forgot that would be dealt with swiftly.

I stepped out of the VIP room, letting the door close behind me with a soft click. The message had been delivered, loud and clear. The panther mask would think twice before daring to make a move again.

As I made my way back to my office, my mind shifted to the next task. There was still work to be done. But for now, the lesson had been set. A reminder that no one—not even the panther—was above the frontman.

———————

Chapter twenty-two!! Whoa we are getting up there in numbers! Lemme know what you think! Thank you! :)

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