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not-neverland06 · 4 months ago

Note

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead.

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants.

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse.

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit.

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits.

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault.

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim.

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about.

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight.

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine.

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look.

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes.

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror.

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it.

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face.

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him.

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you.

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said.

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same.

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after.

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle.

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again.

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to.

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead.

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills.

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself.

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again.

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands.

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones.

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore.

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it.

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her.

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her.

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved.

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved.

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you.

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them.

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage.

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe.

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again.

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better.

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years.

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan.

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house.

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves.

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home.

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real.

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up.

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this.

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them.

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better.

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad.

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can.

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real.

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand.

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do.

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying.

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch.

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture.

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself.

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob.

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything.

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway.

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since.

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing.

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt.

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse.

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better.

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh.

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive.

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped.

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you.

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy.

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns.

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight.

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you.

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room.

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something.

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him.

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said.

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now.

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him.

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face.

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings.

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in.

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.”

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium ♡

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #the worst logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #anon

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the-suicidal-lizard · 5 months ago

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(Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers)

Every Deadpool has a Peter.

And Johnny actually saying that Cassandra is a “finger-licking, dead inside, pixie slab of third-rate, dime-store nut milk. And I'll tell you what she can do: She can lick my goddamn cinnamon ring clean and kick rocks all the way to bald hell.”, so Wade didn’t make it up and that means Johnny kinda deserved his death (he didn’t tho, I love him. I wanted more of him.)

Dogpool is amazing.

ladypool is so cool.

I equally was not expecting to see Laura, Blade, Elektra and the joy I got at seeing Gambit.

Wolverine in the full suit. That is what I wanted, I wanted the mask too. I got it.

Even though the cgi in some scenes weren’t that good, and looked fake, it looked cool enough and the story and humour and gore was perfect, and you can overlook it.

#Deadpool #wolverine #Wade Wilson #james logan howlett #Deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #ladypool #dogpool #Johnny storm #the human torch

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hannahbarberra162 · 25 days ago

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The Crocodile's Gambit, Ch. 5 (Croc x Reader)

18+ MDNI

on Ao3 All the other chapters

TW: (just for this chapter) mentions of torture / gore but not described in great detail.

Skip about halfway for softie Croc :)

Crocodile was in an absolutely fabulous mood as he cleaned the dripping blood from his hook with his handkerchief. He’d always enjoyed psychological torture more than physical, but combining the two was when he really shone. He’d been torturing the Marine in the same ways he’d tortured you - creating thousands of wounds, infecting them with sand, and allowing them to heal enough to scab. He’d then remove the sand, the wounds would reopen…ah, he was having fun with this one. His pitiful screams made Crocodile smile wider the louder they became. He didn’t need information, he didn’t need them as blackmail, he had full reign over the pacing of his craft.

It had been three days since the Mad Medic had come into his hands and Crocodile had kept him alive thus far. Crocodile had made him beg for the mercy of death but hadn’t yet granted the request. He was thinking about killing the Medic the following day but he wanted to ensure that you didn’t want to have your just desserts before he did so. Double checking his vest had no blood spatter on it, he walked the distance between the jail and his nearly-completed mansion with a spring in his step. He was elated with the way he’d dragged out this torture. Normally Crocodile bored quickly during his torture sessions, finding the pleading and begging irritating. But keeping this one alive and suffering was a delight, given what he’d done to you in the past.

Entering his mansion, Crocodile looked for you first in the office. He’d given you the week off but you’d insisted on cleaning his house anyway, saying it gave you an outlet for your nervous energy. You’d been off since the Medic had come to the island and Crocodile couldn’t wait to show you his progress with your former tormentor. You weren’t in the office so he checked your next favorite haunt - the kitchen. You were often in the kitchen, munching on snacks or drinking tea, or trying to get Daz to like you by baking him desserts. Daz did like you, but the two pirates had a silent agreement to dump your treats out the window or turn them into sand when you weren’t looking. You had many incredible qualities but baking was not one of them.

Nearing the kitchen, Crocodile smelled burnt flour and vinegar, indicating he’d guessed correctly. You’d been in the kitchen more than ever this week and your...food had gotten more creative over the time period. Peeking his head in, Crocodile prevented his nose from wrinkling as you plated the charred cookies. You looked cute in your apron, he’d love to unwrap you like a present but now was not the time. Maybe in exchange for eating the bricks he'd have you serve him in nothing but the apron...

“Crocodile! Would you like to try some of my oatmeal raisin cookies?” you asked with a bright smile. The cookies looked more like charcoal briquettes rather than an edible foodstuff.

“I fear they are too hot, they are straight out of the oven, no?” Crocodile demurred, trying to avoid the inevitable outcome. He’d resorted to turning his tongue to sand while in his mouth to decrease the taste of your creations.

“True, you can have some later. I’ll set one aside for you, I just hope no one eats it,” you agreed easily. Crocodile could have sighed with relief but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“I assure you, no one will touch the cookie. Come, we have matters to discuss” Crocodile replied, thinking of the times he’d paid Daz to sample your baking in your presence. You took off your apron, set it aside, and followed Crocodile to the office. Crocodile sat down first in his leather arm chair, patting his lap. Like a spoiled little housecat, you slowly trailed behind him and perched on his generous thigh.

Unfortunately this was no time for heavy petting. He was about to make you uncomfortable and wanted you near so he could physically reassure you. Something he’d realized over the time you’d spent together was the lack of physical affection, especially romantic affection, you’d received over the course of your life. You hadn’t come to him a virgin, you’d had some dalliances in the past. But he could tell no one took their time with you, treated you like the beautiful treasure that you were. You were used to quick, rough fucks, pulling your panties up when you were finished and leaving immediately without so much as a kiss. You were used to sex but not to intimacy which…Crocodile pitied you in some way. He didn’t often desire intimacy but to never have experienced it was depressing to think about. Indeed, the first time Crocodile had offered you aftercare, you’d balked at him.

“I can clean myself, I don’t need you-” you started in on him as soon as Crocodile had offered to run you a bath in his (newly renovated) bathroom. You were curled up completely nude on his lap, indulging in a lazy post-sex game of chess as his seminal fluids dripped down your thighs. You were winning, naturally.

“Of course you can but I want to,” Crocodile retorted, keeping his tone intentionally sharp and lightly slapping the outside of your thigh. You tended to yield most easily when he established that he took care of you for his pleasure, not your own. Which was partially true, Crocodile did enjoy pleasuring and pampering you. You were always awed and grateful, the relative poverty of life with the Clown a good counterpoint to the luxury in Crocodile’s mansion. But the larger problem in Crocodile’s mind was that you didn’t feel you deserved anything good in life. Not from Crocodile, not from the Clown, not from your fellow crew, not from anyone. And Crocodile didn’t like that line of thinking one iota. The least he could do is give you the head of your former tormentor on a silver platter. Perhaps literally.

Wiping a stray smattering of flour from your cheek, Crocodile gave you a serious look despite his inner glee.

“Dear, would you like to join me in the jail for a few moments? Perhaps torture the Medic yourself? It might give you some kind of closure,” Crocodile mused. Since he’d fought Strawhat, he always remained until his opponents were truly dead; Crocodile didn’t like making the same mistake twice. Your smile faded from your mouth, a sight Crocodile loathed.

“I, um, don’t know. I was, um, thinking, maybe but I -” you were looking beyond Crocodile as he used the flat of his hook to gently turn your face towards his. Your eyes held a hint of fear, of memories from long before you’d met Crocodile. Just for the tension you were feeling now, he’d torture the Medic for at least 4 more hours.

“ Tesoro I will be with you the entire time if you wish to go. You do not have to. You could also watch me torture him if you prefer,” he said quietly, running his hook up and down your back carefully avoiding ripping the fine green linen dress he’d bought you as a gift for winning your fiftieth game against him. You looked up, your eyes filling with the same tenacity he saw when you defeated him in chess.

“Let’s go.”

Crocodile was sure of his decision as you walked hand in hand with him to the jail. He watched you mentally prepare yourself for the sight, tilting your head to the sides as you engaged in silent conversations with yourself. You didn’t need to worry, the Medic wouldn’t be able to touch you in any physical manner, even if he had all his fingers. Reaching the jail, you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders.

“Remember, I am always at your side. I will begin with him, join me if you’d like. And if the sight is too much -” you cut off Crocodile with a curt wave.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen the gore I have, no matter how many people you’ve tortured,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Crocodile smiled at your bravery and passed through the guarded doors with you by his side. The jail was a rather small building, as you had recommended they did not keep many prisoners. There were no windows save small rectangular openings high up on the stone walls to let in a minuscule amount of airflow and light. Most cells were empty but as you walked down the hallway a few groans could be heard from a few cells along with the clinking of chains.

Crocodile wasn’t bothered by the smells or the oppressive heat inside but he did worry about your own constitution for a moment. He realized that your words earlier were true, you were non-reactive to the rancid environment. You held your head high and kept your gaze forward as the two of you made your way to the back of the jail with Crocodile leading the way. Stopping in front of the last cell, Crocodile beheld the sight in front of him.

Bloody, bruised, battered, and beaten, the Mad Medic was a whisper of his former self. Sitting in the back of the cell, arms chained to the wall, the Medic’s greasy black hair hung loosely as he drooled on his lower half, jaw unable to close properly any longer. You looked at him askance, as if he’d ruined your favorite pair of boots, not like he’d tortured you maliciously for years. Crocodile ran his hook over the bars of the cell, enjoying the twitch it brought to the Medic’s frame.

“Wake up, Doctor. You have a guest,” Crocodile sneered. You watched impassively as the Medic made eye contact with you. Whereas before he’d grinned wickedly at you from afar, now he stared at you in horror as you stood next to Crocodile, searching your face for forgiveness that would not be granted.

“Nothing to say? Come now, let’s have a chat, shall we?” Crocodile unlocked the cell and entered, his dress shoes clicking against the stone floors. The Medic curled in on himself as Crocodile took the tip of his hook and dragged it down his face, cutting the flesh neatly in two. The Medic moaned out loud, the wild look in his eyes showing the culminating effects of days of torture at Crocodile’s hand.

“Pleasssse, merccccy,” the Medic said in loose syllables, looking at you. You furrowed your brow.

“It doesn’t hurt. Ignore the sounds of the beast,” you replied in a clipped monotone. Crocodile tucked those words away for later in his mind. In the meantime, he sliced the Medic from finger to shoulder, putting increasing pressure as his hook continued its journey. The Medic screamed like a stuck pig, though his voice was now hoarse from repeated use. You watched for a moment longer then spun on your heel and left the jail. Crocodile smiled his unnerving cheshire grin at the Medic, who was trying uselessly to remove Crocodile’s hook from his skin. Oh, the fun they would have.

An hour or so later, Crocodile sauntered out of the jail. It was a shorter session than usual but Crocodile wanted to check in on you. He’d already changed his blood soaked clothes and started a new cigar - the old one had been extinguished on the Medic too many times to relight - and was heading back to his Mansion. First looking in the office and kitchen (where his cookie remained untouched on its plate), Crocodile finally looked in his bedroom. The bathroom door was shut and he heard the sound of running water in the pipes.

Opening the door, Crocodile allowed the steam to escape before he entered the humid bathroom. All devil fruit users were weak to water but more so Crocodile than others. Of course he bathed but he avoided water as much as he could. The glass shower stall was billowing steam like a cauldron but he didn’t hear any noises besides the running of the water. He entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him, unwilling to let you get cold despite his discomfort.

“ Tesoro , how are you feeling?” Crocodile asked from the doorway. He heard no response, and approached the shower. Though the glass doors were fogged, he could see you sitting under the stream of water on the cold tiled floor with your knees tucked under your chin, allowing the hot water to beat against your back.

“Answer me, Darling,” Crocodile urged you gently. You looked up at Crocodile with red rimmed eyes, tears running down your face even as water ran down your skin. Crocodile hadn’t seen you cry before and it was nothing he wanted to see again. He started unbuttoning his vest and shirt, folding them and placing them on the counter. You watched him with concern as he removed his pants as well as his hook, placing both on the counter.

“B-but you don’t like water -” you stammered out, starting to get up from your spot on the floor. He entered the shower, hiding the grimace he felt as the water began to bead on his skin. He wasn’t weak, the majority of his body wasn’t submerged in water, but the feeling was akin to a paper cut between his fingers. Decidedly unpleasant but not outright painful.

You stood up as he entered, Crocodile walked to the teak bench in the back and sat down, opening his arms to you in invitation of you joining in his embrace. The shower was roomy - Crocodile himself was a large man - and he liked having the bench near enough to feel the mist of the warm water without having to deluge himself in it. Unlike earlier when you’d practically strutted to him, now you scuttled like you were about to be punished. You stood between Crocodile’s muscled thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling into him. Crocodile ran his arm up and down your wet skin as you remained silent.

“I will ask you once again. How are you feeling?” Crocodile said over the noise of the falling water. The increasing moisture in the air was bothering him but he’d endure for your sake.

"I don't know, I um, I don't...know," you trailed off, still lost in your own thoughts.

"Take your time, Tesoro, we have nowhere else to be," Crocodile said softly, holding you by the back of your arms. Though Crocodile enjoyed revenge and torture, he knew that trauma resolution was not so easy as the death of your former adversary. He'd learned his own lesson as he'd fought Whitebeard, the sick old man not giving him the fight he wanted.

“It um, didn’t feel as good as I thought it would? Like, I thought I would feel great, standing next to you? And you looked so powerful and strong and... but I felt…I don’t even know. Sad? Small? Confused?” you replied. Crocodile hummed and turned you to sit on his lap.

“What did you mean about the ‘sounds of the beast’?” Crocodile prodded gently. He had a suspicion but wanted it confirmed before he visited the Medic next.

“Oh. That was what he would say if I screamed or made noise during procedures,” you said in an emotionless tone. Crocodile put his large hand on the back of your neck and pulled you forward to kiss your forehead.

“I am sorry it was not what you imagined. It can be challenging to have such important events not live up to expectations. For what it is worth, I did not think you small or sad - I saw a powerful, strong, capable woman who has survived and overcome significant adversity. You were as I always have seen you -”

“Pff. Please don’t say something cheesy like the Queen on the chessboard,” you said lightly, trying to break the tension, burying your face in his shoulder. Crocodile tutted at you, enjoying the change in your mood. He watched the water drip off your nipple and yearned to lick it but restrained himself for now.

“Nonsense. You are not the Queen, a piece to be moved in defense of or sacrificed for another. You are the only opponent worth playing,” Crocodile finished, looking you in the eyes. Your lashes filled with tears again, though this time they were accompanied with a smile and hiccup.

“You’re the most romantic person I know,” you said with sincerity ringing in your tone, wiping your nose on your palm. Crocodile grimaced and put your hand under the stream of water in the shower.

“That is…not one of my known personality traits,” Crocodile replied dryly. He wasn’t going to disabuse you of your notions, it made his life easier if you were easily impressed with his variety of romance. He made a mental note to have flowers shipped to the island, based on your statement you’d be floored to receive them.

“I’d like to show you my romantic side,” you purred at him, your sadness forgotten. Your arm crept along his inner thigh towards his half erect cock. Crocodile was eager but the water was beginning to bother him.

“Gladly, my Dear. I’d love to see what you have to offer me. In the bedroom,” Crocodile demanded, picking you up bridal style and turning off the shower. Wrapping you in a towel, he exited the bathroom and stalked towards the bed in the center of his room.

“What Croccy, don’t like swimming as much as your bananawani?” you teased, licking his dripping earlobe.

“Mm. I see your attitude has recovered, Brat. Let’s see how well it serves you. I seem to remember you proclaiming endlessly that you would be my good girl if only I would stop my ministrations. Is that not still the case? Perhaps I can remind you of your promises to be good for me,” Crocodile drawled, biting your shoulder gently. You puffed up in fake outrage as Crocodile tossed you on the bed. You laid on your stomach on the bed, leaning against your elbows as you reclined on the tall bed frame.

“You had me over your knee, spanking my ass forever! I was sore for two days! Of course I’d say whatever, I woulda said you’re the Pirate King,” you said, flicking your eyes as he loosely stroked himself.

“Tsk, tsk. Lying to your Captain? Definitely not a good girl,” Crocodile said, raking his eyes over your figure as you broke out in goosebumps.

“Definitely not,” you agreed, licking your lips. Crocodile could tell you wanted to suck his cock but he had other plans in mind for you. He hooked his forearm and hand under your knees, flipping you up onto your upper back, pussy high in the air. His bed being so far off the ground put your delectable pussy at the perfect height for him to sample at his leisure.

“H-hey, wait, I wanted to -” you squeaked out before he silenced you.

“Don’t care what you want, Brat. This is what you’re getting,” he growled, holding your hips in place as your legs dangled over his arms.

“I can’t come like this, it’s too -” you began as a blush crept over your face. Even though you’d been with Crocodile for a few weeks now, he’d discovered that some sexual acts made you feel embarrassed. You didn't like feeling exposed, you preferred to come with your legs clenched around his hand, face, and cock. Your embarrassment was absolutely adorable and he made an effort to show off your pretty pussy and watch you squirm.

“Is that so? You cannot come in this position?” Crocodile smiled, baring all his teeth at you. You shivered, biting your bottom lip and nodding.

A few hours later he'd changed your mind. You could indeed come in that lewd position, your pussy on full display for his consumption. You’d also come in many others as he’d taken his time with you, stroking you slow and deep, hitting your g spot with his thrusts as he kissed and nipped at you.

“Just come for me once more, just one more time around my cock,” Crocodile murmured into your hair as he thrust into you from behind, his hand on the bed to keep from putting weight on you. You whined, you’d been so good for him already. Crocodile leaned back onto his knees, still thrusting as he smacked your ass for good measure. Picking up his pace, Crocodile admired the sight of his cock sliding into your well used cunt.

“ Aah , ah, p-please, I c-can’t -” you stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence as he continued to pound you from behind.

“You can. You will,” Crocodile said as he reached under you to rub your oversensitive clit. He’d kept you on edge for quite some time then had you coming over and over. You arched your back even higher, clamping your legs as closely together as you could.

“Ah ah. Legs spread, let me see my beautiful pussy. No hiding,” Crocodile cooed at you, using his knees to force your legs further apart.

“Croc-crocodile, I’m c-close, I’m -” Crocodile slapped your clit with his fingers and was rewarded by the pulsing of your pussy around him as you moaned your release. He rode you through your climax, wanting you to enjoy every overwhelming moment as he sought his own release. Your fluttering, messy pussy pushed him over the edge as he came deep within you. As you came down from your high, you pulled him down to lay next to you. Sweating and panting, you pulled his arm over your side as you rested.

“Feeling better?” Crocodile asked, kissing your mouth tenderly.

“Mmhmm, feelin’ fuckin’ great,” you replied, stretching out your legs. Crocodile closed his own eyes, content to enjoy the moment together in comfortable silence.

“You can kill him now,” you said apropos of nothing. Crocodile didn’t have to ask what you meant.

“As you wish, Darling,” he agreed, running his fingers over the scars on your back. You kept quiet a few minutes longer, fidgeting every half minute or so by shifting your legs, arms or learning his body with your fingertips. Your unease told him you had something else you wanted to say. He gave you the time to sort through your thoughts and feelings, despite the fact that he knew what you were going to say. As well as you could read him, he’d spent time working on being able to read you. And he knew you had a big revelation coming his way.

“Crocodile I -” you started hesitantly after several more minutes, stopping to collect your thoughts. Crocodile opened his eyes to watch you chew on a nail.

“It's alright, Dear. I love you too,” he replied quietly, looking into your eyes as he cupped your cheek.

“....I was gonna say I don’t have the energy to play chess tonight,” you replied sheepishly. “But, yeah, that too.” For the first time in several decades, Crocodile felt himself blushing.

Fuck.

#crocodile x you #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece #tw violence #tw blood #tw torture #soft crocodile #protective crocodile #sweet Crocodile #op x y/n #x reader #reader insert #fem reader

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smashhed · 7 months ago

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|| The King's Gambit ||

🔞 Sukuna x Y/N Minors DNI| TRIGGER WARNING 🔞

Plot: Sukuna in a human world as a mafia boss so things will surely get steamy . Can you handle it ?

Tags- Breast sucking ,killing, mafia ,lust ,revenge ,sex ,plot , fights , gun , gore, action

NOTE : Hey readers,

I just wanted to drop a quick note to let you know that I’m new to the smut genre. Previously, I’ve been writing action fiction novels on other platforms, and now I’m trying to blend some of that action-packed excitement into my new work here. I hope you enjoy the mix of intense action and steamy scenes!

For the love of all things holy, if you're a minor reading this, stop right now. This content is meant for adults only, and I swear to god, if I find out you're reading this, and complaining and crying about it , I'm gonna beat your ass. Stay safe and read responsibly! Divider Credit : @cafekitsune

The city was like a giant maze of metal and glass, full of dark corners and secrets. In the middle of all this, Sukuna, a feared mafia boss, was in charge. His name alone was enough to scare people, and he had a reputation for being tough and powerful.

Tonight, though, things were going to get interesting.

Y/N loved adventure. Her job as a reporter had taken her to some risky places, and this city was no exception. She had heard rumors about Sukuna, the mysterious mafia leader, and she was curious. Wanting to find out more and hoping for a big story, she followed clues that seemed to lead to where he was.

As Y/N navigated the dimly lit streets, her heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. She knew this was dangerous, but the potential reward was too tempting to ignore.

Sukuna was sitting in his fancy office high up in a skyscraper, far above the busy, dirty streets of the city. The office was decorated with expensive furniture, making it look very different from the rough streets below. He was looking through some reports when one of his guys came in, looking nervous.

"Boss, we found someone snooping around the warehouse area. What should we do?" the man asked, his voice shaking a bit.

Sukuna's expression turned serious. "Who's brave enough to mess around in my area?" "It's a woman, boss. She seems determined, like some sort of journalist," the man replied, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

Sukuna's interest was piqued. "Bring her to me. But make sure she's unharmed."

Y/N didn’t expect to be caught so quickly. Suddenly, a few well-dressed but scary-looking men surrounded her. Before she knew it, they grabbed her.

"Let me go!" she demanded, trying to break free.

"The boss wants to see you," one of them told her without any emotion.

They brought her to Sukuna's office. As she was pushed inside, her breath caught in her throat. The man behind the desk was as intimidating as the stories said. His presence filled the room, and his eyes seemed to see right through her.. His penetrating gaze seemed to strip away her defenses, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here ?" Sukuna's voice was smooth as silk, yet laced with a subtle threat. "A journalist, nosing around where she shouldn't be."

Y/N squared her shoulders, meeting Sukuna's intense stare with defiance. "I'm Y/N. And I'm here for a story."

Sukuna leaned back, a small smirk appearing on his face. "A story, is it? You must be quite brave or quite foolish to come here for that."

"Perhaps," Y/N replied, her tone unwavering despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Sukuna's eyes gleamed with amusement. He admired her courage, even as he contemplated the implications of her intrusion. "Very well, Y/N. I'll entertain your request for a story. But know that it comes with a price."

Y/N frowned, her curiosity piqued. "What sort of price are we talking about?"

Sukuna leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "You want a story? Then you'll have to play by my rules. You'll have exclusive access to my world, but in return, you'll owe me a debt—one that I will call upon when the time is right."

Y/N hesitated, weighing the risks against the potential reward. But in the end, her thirst for a groundbreaking story outweighed her apprehension. With a nod, she accepted Sukuna's terms, knowing that delving into his world would be a dangerous game—one where the stakes were higher than she could have ever imagined.

Y/N hesitated. It was a dangerous proposition, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. " Fine. I agree."

Sukuna's smile widened. "Good. Let the games begin."

That night, Y/N was given a room in Sukuna's mansion. It was luxurious, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being a prisoner. She lay in bed, thinking about the man she had just met. There was something magnetic about him, something that drew her in despite the danger.

Meanwhile, Sukuna sat in his study, thinking about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had ever met. Fearless, determined, and undeniably attractive. He was intrigued by her, and that was a feeling he wasn't used to.

The next few days were a whirlwind. Y/N followed Sukuna as he conducted his business. She saw the darker side of his world, but also moments of unexpected kindness. He was a complex man, and the more she learned about him, the more fascinated she became.

One evening, after a particularly tense meeting with a rival gang, Sukuna and Y/N found themselves alone in his office.

"You handled that well," Y/N said, breaking the silence.

Sukuna looked at her, his eyes intense. "You surprise me, Y/N. Most people would be terrified in your position."

"I'm not most people," she replied, meeting his gaze.

Sukuna stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "No, you're not."

There was a charged silence between them. Y/N's heart raced as Sukuna reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

" You should be careful," he murmured, his voice low. "Playing with fire can get you burned."

Y/N's breath hitched. "Maybe I like the heat."

Sukuna's eyes darkened with desire. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."

"And you're enjoying every minute of it," she shot back.

Sukuna's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Maybe I am."

Over the next few days, the tension between Sukuna and Y/N grew. They were like two magnets, drawn together despite the danger. Sukuna was captivated by Y/N's spirit, and she was drawn to his raw power.

One night, Sukuna took Y/N to a high-end club. It was a place where deals were made and alliances formed. As they entered, all eyes were on them. Y/N felt a thrill of excitement and danger.

They danced, the music pulsing around them. Sukuna's hands were possessive on her waist, and Y/N felt a shiver of anticipation. She looked up at him, their faces inches apart.

"This is your world," she said softly. "But it feels like we're in our own little universe."

Sukuna's grip tightened. "As long as you're with me, you're part of it."

Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Then let's make it ours."

Sukuna pulled her closer, their bodies moving in perfect sync. The heat between them was undeniable, and Y/N felt like she was on fire.

Just as they were lost in each other, chaos erupted. Gunshots rang out, and the crowd panicked. Sukuna immediately shielded Y/N, his eyes scanning the room for threats.

"Stay close to me," he ordered, his voice deadly calm.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. They moved through the chaos, Sukuna taking down attackers with ruthless efficiency.

When a man with a gun emerged from the shadows, aiming directly at them, Sukuna's response was lightning-fast. He quickly pushed Y/N behind a pillar for safety, then charged the gunman. As he closed the distance, he ducked under a sloppy shot, rolled forward, and sprang up right in front of the attacker. Using his forearm, he blocked another attempted shot and twisted the gunman's arm sharply, forcing him to drop the weapon. With a swift uppercut, Sukuna knocked the gunman out cold.

Another attacker charged at Sukuna, wielding a knife. Sukuna sidestepped, grabbing the attacker's wrist, and delivered a low kick to the assailant’s knee, destabilizing him. As the man stumbled, Sukuna used his grip on the wrist to flip the attacker over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. The knife skittered across the floor, and Sukuna quickly kicked it into a corner.

Y/N, from behind the pillar, watched Sukuna with a mix of fear and awe. His movements were precise and calculated, his expression focused and unyielding.

More attackers rushed towards Sukuna, but he was ready. He swiftly picked up the dropped gun and switched to defensive stance. He fired several controlled shots, each aimed with deadly precision, incapacitating his assailants one by one. The sharp reports of the gun echoed through the club, overshadowing the chaotic screams around them.

Sukuna’s agility and combat prowess were on full display as he ducked a wild swing from another attacker, countered with a jab to the throat, followed by a knee to the stomach, and a powerful palm strike to the chest that sent the man flying backward.

As the last of the attackers fell, the intensity in Sukuna’s eyes faded slightly. He turned back to Y/N, his posture relaxing as he walked over to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, his tone shifting from the commanding fierceness of battle to concerned softness.

Y/N nodded, her voice shaky from adrenaline. " Yes, I’m okay, thanks to you. That was… incredible."

Sukuna cracked a small, confident smile. "Glad to hear that. Stay close to me, it’s not over until we’re out of here."

Back at the mansion, Sukuna and Y/N tended to their wounds. The danger they had just faced brought them even closer.

"Sukuna," Y/N said quietly, breaking the silence. "Why did you bring me into your world?"

Sukuna looked at her, his expression unreadable. "At first, it was curiosity. But now... it's more than that."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

Sukuna took a deep breath. "I've never met anyone like you, Y/N. You challenge me, make me feel things I haven't felt in a long time."

Y/N's eyes softened. " I feel the same way, Sukuna. "

He reached out, taking her hand in his. "This is dangerous, you know that, right?"

Y/N nodded. "I don't care. I'm not afraid."

As their conversation simmered with tension, Sukuna's gaze darkened with desire. "You want to play with danger, Y/N?" he murmured huskily, his voice dripping with seduction. Y/N's pulse quickened as she met his gaze head-on. " I'm not afraid to explore every inch of you," she whispered, her words a challenge. Sukuna smirked, his dominant aura filling the room.

"I want to possess every inch of you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice laced with desire.

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her body already craving his touch. "Then take me, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice thick with longing. With a growl, Sukuna claimed her lips in a fierce kiss,

Sukuna's eyes darkened with raw desire as he pinned Y/N against the wall, his body pressed flush against hers. " You're mine, Y/N, " he growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. Y/N gasped at the intensity in his gaze, feeling a rush of heat pooling between her legs. "Claim me, Sukuna," she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. With a predatory smirk, Sukuna trailed kisses along her neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "I'll make you mine in every way," he vowed, his hands exploring her body with a hunger that sent shivers down her spine .

Sukuna's lips trailed along Y/N's neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her like a predator savoring its prey. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she surrendered to his dominance, her body arching against his with a desperate need. "You're mine, Y/N," Sukuna growled possessively, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "And tonight, I'm going to show you just how much you belong to me." With a hungry moan, Y/N nodded, her desire burning like wildfire

With a wicked grin, Sukuna's fingers trailed down Y/N's body until they reached her throbbing clit. "You like it when I tease you, don't you, Y/N?" he purred, his voice laced with dominance. Y/N whimpered in response, her hips instinctively pressing against his hand, craving more of his touch. "Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice thick with desire. Sukuna's smirk widened as he circled her clit with expert precision, driving her to the edge of madness with each teasing touch. " You're so beautiful when you're desperate for me," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Sukuna suddenly stopped, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked at Y/N teasingly. "Do you want more, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dripping with dominance. Y/N's breath hitched as she stared up at him, her body throbbing with need. "Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice a desperate plea. Sukuna smirked, reveling in her desperation before resuming his ministrations with renewed vigor. "You have to earn it, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Sukuna's smirk widened as he gazed down at Y/N, his dominance radiating from every inch of his being. " If you want more, Y/N, you'll have to show me how much you want it," he teased, his voice thick with desire. Y/N's heart raced at his command, her need for him burning hotter than ever. "I'll show you, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. With a wicked grin, Sukuna leaned back, his cock throbbing with anticipation as Y/N eagerly took him into her mouth, sucking him like she meant it

Sukuna watched with smug satisfaction as Y/N took him into her mouth like a hungry prey, her lips wrapping around him with eager determination. "That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Show me how much you crave me." Y/N moaned around him, the vibrations sending waves of ecstasy coursing through Sukuna's body. "You're mine to devour, Y/N," he growled, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her movements.

Sukuna's eyes widened with surprise as Y/N suddenly deepthroated him, her mouth engulfing him with a hunger that left him breathless. "Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're even more skilled than I thought." Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued, her movements relentless as she took him deeper and deeper. "You like that, Sukuna?" she teased, her voice husky with desire. Sukuna could only nod in response, his mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of her mouth around him

Sukuna's fingers found their way to Y/N's throbbing clit as she deepthroated him, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. "You like it when I take control, don't you, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice thick with dominance. Y/N moaned around him, her hips bucking against his hand as she surrendered to his touch. "Yes, Sukuna," she gasped, her voice muffled by his length. Sukuna smirked, relishing in the power he held over her as he continued to pleasure her without mercy

With a primal growl, Sukuna seized control, flipping Y/N onto her back as he positioned himself between her thighs. "You're mine to claim, Y/N," he declared, his voice dripping with dominance. Y/N's breath hitched with anticipation as she felt him enter her, his length filling her like never before. "Yes, Sukuna," she moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and surrender Sukuna's throbbing cock plunged into Y/N's wet pussy, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "Oh, Sukuna," she moaned, her voice a symphony of ecstasy as he pounded her relentlessly. Sukuna's primal growls filled the room as he claimed her as his own, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you, Y/N?" he grunted, his voice thick with desire. Y/N could only nod in response, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their passion.

Sukuna's hands eagerly seized Y/N's breasts, and with a swift, decisive motion, he tore apart her top, revealing her pert nipples to his hungry gaze. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as he took her sensitive peaks into his mouth, his lips and tongue working wonders on her flesh, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through her entire being. With each suck and nibble, she felt herself unraveling under his skilled ministrations, her body responding instinctively to his every touch.

"Oh, Sukuna," Y/N moaned, her back arching in pleasure as she surrendered herself to the overwhelming sensations washing over her. Her fingers clawed at his back, urging him closer as she sought to immerse herself fully in the ecstasy of their shared passion. Sukuna groaned in satisfaction, his hunger for her growing with each passing moment, his dominance radiating from every fiber of his being.

"You're mine, Y/N," Sukuna declared, his voice thick with possessiveness as he claimed her with each fervent kiss and caress. Y/N could do nothing but whimper in response, completely lost in the intensity of their connection.

Sukuna shifted Y/N onto her back, his eyes ablaze with desire. "You ready for more, baby?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. Y/N nodded eagerly, her breath coming in short gasps as she braced herself for his next move.

With a primal grunt, Sukuna thrust into her once again, his cock filling her completely. "Oh god, yes!" Y/N cried out, her voice filled with ecstasy as she surrendered to the pleasure of his powerful thrusts. Sukuna's lips crashed down on hers, his kisses hot and urgent as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

Their bodies moved together in a frenzied rhythm, each thrust driving them both closer to the edge. "You feel so good, Y/N," Sukuna moaned, his voice rough with desire. Y/N's nails dug into his back, her cries of pleasure mingling with his

Sukuna's voice was a low, husky whisper against Y/N's ear as he spoke, "I want to make you cum, baby. Let me feel you unravel around me." Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her body quivering with anticipation.

"Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice dripping with need. "Make me cum hard."

With a predatory grin, Sukuna increased the pace of his thrusts, driving her closer to the edge with each powerful movement. "You're so close, Y/N," he murmured, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "Let go for me."

Y/N's fingers clenched the sheets as she surrendered to the pleasure building inside her, her cries of ecstasy filling the room as she finally reached the peak of her pleasure. "Yes, Sukuna, yes!" she screamed, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

Sukuna's cock throbbed with anticipation as Y/N reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, her walls gripping him tightly as she came hard. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight," he groaned, feeling her hot juices coating his dick. With a primal roar, he released himself deep inside her, filling her pussy with his hot, sticky cum.

But Sukuna wasn't satisfied yet. His hunger for her was insatiable, and with a predatory gleam in his eyes, he continued to pound into her relentlessly. "You like that, don't you, Y/N? You want more of my cock?" he growled, his voice dripping with lust.

Y/N could only whimper in response, her body writhing beneath him as she begged for more. With each powerful thrust, Sukuna felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge once again. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, baby," he grunted, his voice thick with desire.

And with one final, powerful thrust, Sukuna emptied himself inside her for a second time, their combined moans filling the room as they surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of their shared climax.

With a satisfied smirk, Sukuna leaned down to kiss Y/N passionately, his lips claiming hers with a possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine. "You're mine now, Y/N," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with dominance. "I've claimed you as mine, and there's no going back."

Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to him. "Yes, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice a breathless affirmation of her submission to him.

Their night was a whirlwind of passion, each moment hotter than the last. They fucked again and again, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they sought to quench their insatiable desire for each other.

With every thrust, Sukuna claimed Y/N as his own, their moans of pleasure echoing in the darkness as they surrendered themselves completely to the fire of their passion. They explored every inch of each other's bodies, leaving no part untouched as they reveled in the ecstasy of their shared pleasure.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, they finally collapsed in each other's arms, sated and spent from their night of passion. With a contented sigh, Sukuna pulled Y/N close, holding her tightly against him as they drifted off to sleep, their bodies entwined in a blissful embrace.

The next few days were a blur of action and emotion. Sukuna and Y/N grew closer, their bond deepening with each passing moment. They were a formidable team, each pushing the other to new heights.

But the danger was always lurking, and they both knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to them.

The inevitable showdown arrived with the fury of a storm. A rival gang, determined to dethrone Sukuna, launched a full-scale attack on his mansion under the cover of night. Bullets rained and explosions lit up the dark sky, signaling the start of a merciless battle.

Sukuna and Y/N stood back to back, their resolve steeling them against the onslaught. Sukuna's eyes were ice-cold with focus, his gun firing with the precision of a seasoned warrior, each shot synchronized with his breathing. Beside him, Y/N matched his rhythm, her own gun spitting fire at any figure that dared advance.

One thug tried to look menacing but slipped on his own shoelaces and went flying past them. Sukuna couldn't help but snort.

"Watch this," Sukuna whispered to Y/N as he spotted another group trying to flank them. He waited until they were awkwardly clustered together, then lobbed a smoke grenade. The gang members stumbled around, bumping into each other like characters in a silent film.

Y/N giggled, covering her mouth. "They're like penguins on ice!"

"Cover me," Sukuna said, diving into the fray with a bit more flair than necessary. He rolled, not because he needed to, but because it looked cool. When he came up, his hair was perfectly tousled—somehow it always was, even in a gunfight.

A large, burly thug swung a crowbar at Sukuna, who dodged and quipped, "You need to hit the gym, mate!" before delivering a punch

A thug lunged at him with a knife, slashing wildly. Sukuna dodged to the side, his arm whipping out to catch the man's wrist, twisting it viciously until the knife clattered to the ground. With a swift uppercut, he sent the attacker sprawling.

"Y/N, watch out!" Sukuna yelled as he saw another assailant sneaking behind her. Y/N spun around just in time, her fist connecting with the attacker's jaw in a satisfying crunch.

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Amidst the chaos, a burly figure emerged— the leader of the rival gang. He was flanked by his best men, who moved with lethal intent towards Sukuna and Y/N.

Sukuna met the gang leader's gaze, his expression grim. "This ends tonight," he growled.

The leader smirked, cracking his knuckles. " You're in over your head, Sukuna. "

With a roar, Sukuna charged, ducking as the leader swung a heavy pipe. He countered with a jab to the abdomen, followed by a sharp hook to the face, staggering the larger man.

Meanwhile, Y/N battled two assailants. She ducked a wild swing, pivoting to deliver a kick that knocked the wind out of her opponent. As the second man raised his gun, Y/N grabbed his arm, twisting and using his own body to shield herself as she disarmed him, throwing him over her shoulder onto the ground.

"Y/N!" Sukuna shouted, distracted for a split second as he saw her struggle. That moment was all the leader needed. He landed a heavy blow to Sukuna's side, a knife slicing through his shirt and skin.

"Stay with me, Sukuna," Y/N cried out, dispatching another attacker before rushing to his side. Blood was beginning to stain his shirt, but his eyes burned with an unquenchable fire.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sukuna gritted out, pushing past the pain. With a fierce yell, he launched himself at the gang leader. They traded blows, the sound of flesh and bone meeting echoing above the gunfire. Sukuna's movements were a blur, a ballet of violence, as he parried, dodged, and struck with ruthless efficiency.

Finally, with a powerful combination of strikes, Sukuna landed a devastating blow to the leader’s temple, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

The remaining attackers, seeing their leader defeated, began to falter. Sukuna and Y/N seized the momentum, pushing back with renewed vigor until the last of the attackers fled into the night.

With the last of the attackers gone, the mansion was left in ruins. Smoke and dust hung in the air, and the once luxurious rooms were now a battlefield.

Y/N rushed to Sukuna's side, her heart pounding with fear. "Sukuna, you're hurt."

He smiled, though it was strained. "It's just a scratch."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, her voice trembling. "Stay with me, Sukuna. Don't you dare leave me."

Sukuna reached out, cupping her face in his blood-stained hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he said softly, his eyes filled with determination.

With a final, desperate push, they managed to defeat the attackers. The mansion was in ruins, but they had survived.

As they stood amidst the wreckage, Y/N looked at Sukuna, her eyes filled with love and determination.

"We did it," she said softly.

Sukuna pulled her into his arms, his lips brushing her ear. "Yes, we did. And as long as we have each other, nothing can stop us."

In the aftermath of the battle, Sukuna and Y/N began to rebuild. Their love had been tested and had emerged stronger than ever. They knew their future would be filled with challenges, but they were ready to face them together.

As they stood on the balcony of their new home, looking out over the city, Sukuna took Y/N's hand in his.

"This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with promise.

Y/N smiled, leaning into him. "And I can't wait to see what the future holds."

With their hearts intertwined and their love burning bright, they were ready to take on the world.

Together. THE END { or is it <3 ? }

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