#I need someone to come wreck me like this

[crimsonwolf715]

Coming Home

(Part 2 of Adventures of the Batfamily)

Jason watches Batman and Robin take out one of his competitors on security cameras. Batman, who is undoubtedly still his older brother instead of his father, is doing a wonderful job of taking out Jason’s competitors while he’s recovering/vacationing. He grabs the chilled bottle of beer and drinks it while continuing to watch. Once the battle’s over and his brothers come out victorious, he turns the feed off. 

He grabs his cigarettes and heads out onto the roof to smoke. Not the best place, the wind’s more aggressive up there, but he likes the view. He only gets through one cigarette before he gets a call. He looks at it and it’s one of the heads of his port operations. 

“We’re being attacked, boss!” someone that the phone definitely doesn’t belong to shouts when he answers. “The warehouse down by the harbor is being attacked by Batman and his sidekicks!” 

Jason puts the cigarette out and heads down to grab his gear. He drives towards the warehouse once he’s gotten all his gear. After almost getting in two wrecks due to his reckless motorcycle driving, he makes it to the warehouse. It’s quiet and nobody’s there. 

“Where’s the attack?” Jason asks. “If someone is yanking my chain, I swear…” 

The sound of the doors opening stops him. He pulls his pistols out and points them at the door. When someone comes into view, it’s his people. 

“Where’s the attack?” Jason asks. 

“Attack?” one of them asks. “Nobody’s attacked us. We’ve been doing exactly what you instructed us to do, keep things on the down low. We haven’t had a run in with anyone since you left to recover.” 

“So somebody’s pulling the strings. What strings though? What’s the gain?” Jason mutters. 

“Everything alright, sir? Should we fear an attack and move out?” 

“No, I’m going to head out and figure out what’s going on.” 

“Okay, sir.” 

Jason walks back out to his motorcycle and drives to his other warehouse by the docks. 

Not as close to the docks, but maybe they just couldn’t remember the address. Not like Gotham goons are known for being smart. 

He barely gets there and finds the place empty before Batman, Red Robin, and Robin come busting in. Jason signals for assistance, then avoids his siblings by hiding and running around the warehouse. Every time he comes across Damian, Damian gets closer to catching him. On the other hand, Dick does catch him by complete accident. Jason was avoiding Tim when he ran into Dick. 

The two start fighting and he hears his people coming in one of the doors. Dick punches Jason in the abdomen, sending him into the wall behind him. Jason’s reinforcements show up and start attacking Dick. Jason uses the distraction to make his getaway. He hops on his motorcycle and  drives towards his apartment. 

Batman heads down to the Batcave when he gets a notification that someone’s trying to contact him. He sits down at the computer and answers. 

“Hi, Batman.” That voice belongs to Catwoman. 

“Did you find something Selina?” Bruce asks. 

“Always in such a rush,” Selina replies. 

“Yes, I did. I figured out where the Red Hood lives. He lives in one of my old apartment buildings. The landlord was very willing to talk to me about Hood. He’s a model tenant outside of watching movies with gunshots late at night, which people seem to complain about. He was almost never there until two weeks ago. He’s barely seen the man leave since then. He is currently not home though, if you wanna wait on him. Why did you need me to find all this out? Couldn’t figure it out yourself?” 

“Would’ve taken too long. What’s the address?” 

Selina rattles it off, so Bruce writes it down. 

“You think maybe we could…?” 

“Thanks, Selina.” He cuts the line and heads back upstairs. 

He runs into Alfred on the way out. 

“Where are you off to, sir?” 

“To talk to Gordon. We’re hosting a gala for the police force and donors. We need to iron some stuff out.” 

“That doesn’t sound worth leaving when you said you wouldn’t.” 

“I only said that I wouldn’t go out to fight crime. I’ve left the house a handful of times. I’ll be back in a while.” 

“Alright, sir.” 

Bruce gets a car and then drives towards the address Selina gave him. 

Jason stumbles into his apartment and he can hear something making a whistling sound from the kitchen. Jason walks in there and he’s struck by the sight of seeing his father there, boiling water like this is a casual “come to see your child situation”. 

“What the…?” 

Jason doesn’t get the chance to finish the question since Bruce turns and asks, “Are you injured? You’re bleeding.” 

Jason looks down and notices that there is blood on his costume. “Oh, that’s why I’m in pain.” 

Jason’s vision blurs and he falls forward. He feels someone catch him before he blacks out. He wakes up with a needle in his arm and a fuzzy feeling in his head. He opens his eyes and he sees Bruce sitting in his armchair, watching something to Jason’s left. Jason glances in the direction and it’s a bag of blood. Jason glances down at his arm. 

He’s giving me blood. Is this the blood I keep in my stash? 

“Oh good. You’re awake,” Bruce says. 

“What?” Jason asks, the word slurring slightly. 

“I said that I’m glad that you’re awake. I was worried that what I was doing wouldn’t be sufficient.” 

“Why…? Why are you helping me?” 

“Jason, you’re my son. I want to help you.” 

“Bullshit,” Jason spits. “Get out before I rip this out and kick your ass out of my apartment.” 

Bruce gets up. “Just keep the blood going and take meds in three hours. And know that you’ll always have a place at home.” 

Bruce gives Jason one last look, one that Jason interpreted as remorseful, then leaves. 

The three get to the Batcave and Dick pulls the cowl off. 

“Ugh, I hate wearing a cowl. I don’t know how Wally does it all the time. I’m glad the police tipped us off that Red Hood was out tonight.” 

“Are you bleeding, Grayson?” Damian asks, walking closer, his eyes on Dick’s abdomen. 

Dick looks down and notices blood on his torso, but he’s not in pain. 

“It’s not my blood, Dami.” 

“Does that mean you hit Hood?” Tim asks. 

“I guess. I don’t think I hit him with anything sharp, but he’s the only one that got close enough to get this much blood on me.” 

“Quickly and carefully take the suit off. I’ll run the blood through the system to see if we can find a match,” Tim says. 

“Good idea, Tim,” Dick says. “I’m gonna go change and give this to you. Bruce is gonna be pissed.” 

When Dick comes back, Alfred’s standing by Tim and Damian, who are stationed at the computer. Dick offers Tim the suit, which Tim takes. 

“How’s Dad?” Dick asks. 

“He left a little while ago,” Alfred answers. 

“Where did he go?” Damian asks, sounding suspicious. 

“He said that he was going to speak to the Commissioner about the upcoming Police Gala. I wasn’t too worried considering he knows better than to do something dangerous without his gear, which you had Master Grayson.” 

Dick nods, though he doesn’t look convinced that Bruce wouldn’t go out and do something dangerous without his gear. 

“Roughly how long should this take, Drake?” Damian asks. 

“Thirty minutes.” 

“Then I’m going to get a quick shower and change.” 

“Okie dokie.” 

Tim puts the sample into the computer as Damian heads towards the changing area. The computer beeps five minutes later, surprising Dick and Tim. 

“That was really fast,” Tim says. “Let me…” 

He clicks two things and the results come up. 

Jason Peter Todd  

Dick and Tim stare at the computer in silent shock while Alfred excuses himself. 

Damian silently walks up. “Is this the result?” 

Tim wordlessly nods. 

“So that means that Todd isn’t dead.” 

“What do we tell Dad?” Dick says. 

“That maybe he wasn’t wrong and he did see him in the warehouse that night,” Tim answers. “I did some searching earlier this week and found footage of someone driving to the place before we got there, but either he knew where the cameras were and avoided showing his face or he was just really lucky.” 

“Father definitely went after Todd.” 

“What makes you say that, Dami?” 

“Father has thus far kept his word on not leaving the house unless it was essential and while we all know that Alfred probably tried to stop him from leaving earlier, the lie was to put him at ease. There’s no way that Father broke that for a police gala that anyone could plan. Also, have you ever met that man? He’s obsessed with his orphans whether they’re supposed to be dead, or not.” 

Tim types for a minute and then a picture pops up. It’s Barbara. 

“Hey, Babs,” Dick says. 

“Hey. What’s up? I thought you guys were done for the night.” 

“Is Bruce with your dad right now?” Tim asks. 

“No, my dad’s here with me. Say hi, Dad.” 

“No,” they hear Gordon’s voice say off screen. “I talked to them plenty earlier.” 

“Well he’s being anti-social, but he’s been here with me since getting back from the crime scene.” 

“He went after Jason,” Tim and Dick say at the same time. 

“What?” Barbara asks. 

“I will explain everything later, but we have to go find Bruce now,” Dick promises. “I’ll talk to you later, Babs.” 

“Bye.” 

Tim ends the call and gets up. “We should change and go back out.” 

“Why are you going back out?” Bruce asks from the elevator. 

“Oh thank God,” Dick says. “You didn’t go after Jason, did you?” 

He goes over to Bruce, who sighs. “Why would you ask that? I thought you didn’t believe me.” 

“We got into a fight with the Red Hood earlier and his blood got on the suit. We searched it and it said that it’s Jason. The computer doesn’t lie, and it explains how he’s able to know our moves.” 

“Well, I’m not with Jason. I’m here with you three. You should come up, I brought dinner with me.” 

Damian and Tim exchange a look of disbelief while Dick nods like he believes Bruce. They go upstairs and Alfred’s sitting at the table already. 

“You alright, Alfred?” Dick asks. 

“I will be, thank you.” 

Dick nods, then passes out food. He barely eats anything, then goes up to his room and spends the night thinking about Jason. 

The day goes by with Jason just nursing his injury. He gets up and gets ready at eight pm. He gave the police another tip about one of his competitors, but decides that he wants to watch his family deal with them in person. 

Jason arrives at the scene in his Red Hood attire, armed and ready in case anybody spots him. He watches his family deal with the thugs, a weight settling in his chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Once they’re done dealing with the thugs, Dick ruffles Damian and Tim’s hair. 

Dickie wouldn’t mind. He’d probably cry, but he wouldn’t try to kill me. I’ve never directly interacted with Damian Wayne. Just a couple of encounters with Batman and Robin where I was fighting Batman, but he seems like the type that might try to kill me. Tim, on the other hand, would be a problem. I’ve had countless run-ins with Red Robin where I’ve point-blank tried to kill him. He wouldn’t feel safe anywhere near me. 

Am I actually considering this? 

Jason realizes that Dick, Tim, and Damian are all heading back in the direction of the Batcave. The police show up and Batman talks with them briefly before heading to a roof right above to watch the police do their jobs. 

Probably so no loose ends get left. 

Jason makes the decision at this moment. He jumps onto the roof that Bruce is on, clearly waiting for the police to finish up before leaving. 

“Batman.” 

Bruce turns to see that Jason’s heading towards him. Bruce clearly braces for some kind of attack but Jason just puts his head on Bruce’s chest, craving the affection he’s been deprived of for years. 

Even if Bruce just lets me stay here like this, that’ll be enough.  

Bruce pulls Jason into a hug, so he drops the helmet and gun in his hands. As he hugs Bruce back, tears start pouring down his face. They just stand there for a while, hugging while Jason cries. 

“I’m glad you came,” Bruce says softly. 

Jason half nods. He can hear Dick’s voice over Bruce’s comm. 

“Hey, Dad. Everything alright? Your tracker still places you at the crime scene.” 

Bruce switches his comm on. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ll be home in a bit. How are your brothers?” 

“They’re both safe and at home. These last two days have been a disaster. We really have to come up with something to do about this problem.” 

“It’ll be fine. We’ll all talk when I get there.” 

“Okay. I’m gonna get everyone upstairs and ready for dinner. Over and out.” 

Bruce switches his comm off again. 

“Are you gonna come home?” Bruce asks. 

Jason doesn’t even think about it, he just nods. He doesn’t want to leave Bruce’s embrace, and the warmth that it brings being back in the arms of his father who really does love him. Bruce orders the food and picks it up with one arm wrapped around Jason’s shoulder. 

After getting changed in the Batcave and Jason staring at all the things that stayed the same and the few things that have changed, Bruce takes Jason upstairs. 

“Let me talk to them before you come in,” Bruce says. 

Jason nods, then leans against the wall. “What? Were you just not gonna tell them about me?” 

“They already know. Your blood got all over my suit. I just have to explain you being in the house. I planned on explaining, I just didn’t know exactly how to go about it.” 

Jason nods again. “Take your time, I’m still in pain from that stab wound. So I’m not going anywhere. And before you ask, no, I haven’t busted my stitches.” 

Bruce’s turn to nod. He walks into the living room and Jason settles down in the study, grunting at the pain. 

I’m alone, so who’s gonna know I’m being a little bitchy about the injury? 

“Master Jason?” 

Jason looks up and sees Alfred. 

“Hey,” Jason mutters, plastering a smile on his face for Alfred. 

“You all have never been very good at lying to me.” 

Jason’s frown returns. “Yeah, something like that.” 

“Are you staying?” 

“That’s the hope.” 

“Let me look at the injury then.” 

Jason obediently pulls his shirt up enough that Alfred can see where Bruce stitched him up. 

“I need to rebandage it, but that’s something I can do when it’s more convenient.” 

“I’ll get the first aid kit. I assume that Master Wayne is talking to the others.” 

“He’s supposed to be.” 

“Alright, I’ll be right back then.” 

Alfred leaves and Jason closes his eyes. The whole place smells and feels familiar. Something that’s always put Jason at ease. He feels himself starting to doze so he sits up. Alfred walks back in and starts wordlessly taking care of Jason. Jason stays still and doesn’t complain. 

“You’re much better about being cooperative than you were as a child.” 

“Thanks,” Jason says. 

Dick sits on the couch in complete silence. He’s been like that since figuring out that Jason’s alive. Unless he’s out in that uniform, he’s been completely quiet. Damian walks over and sits down on the opposite side of the couch from Dick. 

“Do you need someone to talk to?” Damian obviously sounds uncomfortable, but he’s been putting more and more effort into his relationships recently. 

Dick shakes his head. Damian moves closer, tentatively leaning against Dick. Dick runs his hand through Damian’s hair silently. 

Jason’s alive? He’s been alive this whole time and we’ve fought. Countless times we’ve gone up against each other and I was none the wiser. I knew that it was someone who knew our moves, but I’d always assumed that it was someone who could adapt from watching us. I never thought that it was my little brother. 

Dick’s pulled from his thoughts by Tim walking in saying his name. He looks up and Tim’s holding a bowl. He offers it to Dick, who takes it. There are small cookies inside, the kind that Barbara taught Tim how to make. Dick smiles. 

“Come here.” 

Tim sits down on the opposite side of Dick. He wraps his arms around Tim and Damian. 

“Thank you two, for trying to make me feel better. I really do appreciate it. This is just…” He trails off, not really sure how to explain to his brothers exactly how he’s feeling. 

“We get it,” Tim says. “This is something that we could have never seen coming.” 

“We’ll figure out what to do,” Damian promises. 

Bruce walks into the room and smiles. Dick gives Bruce a half-assed smile in an attempt to not prolong this conversation. 

“I have something to talk to you three about,” Bruce says. 

“Is it in regards to dinner?” Damian asks. 

“No,” Bruce answers. 

“Then it can wait,” Tim replies. “We’re in the middle of something here.” 

Bruce blinks, clearly not expecting the conversation to go like this. 

“What’s up, B?” Dick asks. “Any news on our problem?” 

“Yes, that’s actually what I wanted to talk about.” 

All three of them perk up. Dick and Tim are clearly surprised that’s the topic and Damian just seems interested in what Bruce has to say. 

“He’s in the other room.” 

“In the other room like down in the Batcave because you captured him or in the other room like you let him in the house?” Tim asks. 

“He came here on his own accord. I wanted to talk to you guys about it.” 

“Nothing to talk about,” Dick says. “You brought him in so you’re clearly wanting to keep him here. Why don’t you bring him in?” 

Bruce looks a little hesitant, but he walks out. 

“Are you okay?” Tim asks Dick. 

“Not really, but I will be.” 

Bruce leads Jason into the room and everyone seems wary other than Damian. Damian is never intimidated or wary of anyone. Jason gives them an awkward smile he barely manages. Dick gets up and walks over. He seems to be looking Jason over, which makes him uncomfortable. The look in Dick’s eyes is one he’s never given Jason before. Dick punches Jason in the jaw and Jason lands on his ass, not at all prepared to be hit in the face. 

“Dick,” Bruce says. 

“He definitely deserved that, but I’m surprised it was Grayson,” Damian says. 

Tim nods. 

“I mourned you. I go to your grave monthly, you asshole,” Dick says. “I had to deal with the fact that I lost another brother and you were alive the whole damn time? I… I need a breather.” 

Dick walks out and Jason gets up. Damian gets up and goes after Dick. 

“Are you gonna try to kill me again?” Tim asks. 

Jason shakes his head. 

“Okay, then welcome back. I’m gonna figure out if Alfred needs help with dinner.” 

Tim walks out, leaving Bruce and Jason alone. 

“They’ll adjust,” Bruce says. 

“Should I be here while they do?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m not really hungry. Can I go to my room or something?” Jason asks. 

“Yeah, your room is still the same. Feel free.” 

Jason heads upstairs and other than the fact that it’s probably regularly cleaned, his room looks the same. He sits down on the bed, feeling the urge to pull all the stuff off the walls. 

This feels like a hall of memories. That’s what it was. I was gone. 

Jason sighs. He ends up passing out after a while of looking at his old stuff.

[siolixz]

ღ Of Love and Loyaltyღ

One-Shot

+18

<Part 1> <Part 3: final>

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have developed a relationship of sorts and now she changed based on her circumstances and everything she has around her. Reader is a young girl infatuated with a man decades older than her- who is also very dangerous and powerful (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)👌 Oz's mom is actually dead in this story. I will write a third and final part to this after the last episode. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting 100%.

Enjoy, give some feedback if you want. (>‿◠)✌

Warnings: violence, age-gap relationship, smut(¬‿¬)

You finally made something of yourself. Sure it was all blood money, but you did- you did what you had to do to survive and not only that, to thrive. 

Before leaving he told you to get in the car while he talked to Sofia outside, when you got back he was on his knees- a gun pointed at his face. You acted on impulse and drove the car into one of the guys there; best thing you could’ve done at the moment he told you.

 You would think that planning to escape would distance you from him but it did the opposite- even after wrecking his car, that poor gorgeous car; you’ve never been in one as fancy before- let alone drive it.  

“I’m so-sorry about your car.” you said as you stared at it in flames. 

“Yeah- what're ya gonna do 'bout it- only the good die young.” he came closer to you and grabbed the back of your head- forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be sad about it- you’re worth a thousand more to me.” 

He told you that you two were “really in it now”- and he couldn’t have been more right about that.

He got the Bliss operation back from the Maroni family by burning the mother and the heir apparent to their family- together. His brutality frightened you but If he wanted to rule the mob- he had to be brutal and unwavering in his choices, at least that’s what you told yourself to justify what he had done. Now not only Sofia Gigante was after you, but also Sal Maroni.

In the weeks following you had your own operation- underground, in a sewer system that connected you to all of Gotham, you became Oz’s eyes and ears above ground, traveling on your motorcycle- giving him news about the world above and delivering his money directly in his hands. He had given you your own gun—"just in case someone messes with you"—though you never ended up using it.

 Oz trusted you, even after your attempt at an escape- he moved you two to an apartment on the East Side, one that reminded you of your old one; without electricity but it did its job. In the apartment you got very close to him, you got to know him much better and you changed too in the meantime, you were more confident- more sure of yourself next to him. 

He was all you had, the one person who made you feel like you were the center of his world. One night- he came "home" late, as he often did. You were already in bed, curled up and trying to stay warm when you felt the familiar weight of his body sinking into the mattress. He slid under the covers and pulled you close, and you sighed, finally feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

"The people in charge really don’t give a fuck about us," you murmured, exhaustion lacing your voice. It was a tired frustration—being cold at work and now being cold at home. Winter was coming, and your mind drifted to families with children who needed warmth.

He took a deep breath. The long days weighed heavily on him; managing his people and the constant stress left him drained. Most nights, he would grab a bite, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, cold or not, he’d fall into a deep sleep. You’d take advantage of those moments, cuddling close and pulling his heavy arm over you. Oswald slept like a rock.

"I’ll do something about it," he said, his deep voice vibrating through you. In the weeks you’d been together, you’d learned how to speak to him, how make him feel powerful—your man, your only one. He was the only man who had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t deny the rush you felt watching him command respect when he barked out orders to his men, a cigar perched between his lips. God, he was handsome. Your stomach would flutter every time you caught a glimpse of him, even if only for a second.

He was a towering presence, terrifying when he loomed over you, and seeing him angry was enough to scare you senseless. But it also sets your heart racing for other reasons too.

Before the club, his gaze never strayed from you; now, it was his hands that constantly sought you. He couldn't help himself when you were close, sometimes grabbing you in public like an eager kid in a candy shop. You learned that when he called you into his "office," it meant he was either seething with anger or burning with desire—either way, you knew he’d end up taking it out on you. 

He’d told you more than once that he hadn’t felt this alive in years, and you could sense the shift in everything he did—from the way he spoke to the intensity in the way he fucked you. He had changed.

You told him about Squid- about how he came up to you today- asking you where you got your clothes- “what shit you got cooking” - Oz asked you if it was going to be a problem, you told him no; he could count on you- you won’t let him down.

“You know, I think you’re the only thing keeping me good, doll.” he traced circles on your arm. If you were keeping him good, what was Oz like when bad? The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt his hands traveling under the blanket and beneath the sweater and t-shirt you had on and you proceeded to hiss once they made contact with your skin “your hands are so cold” you said and he chuckled.

The next day, you made true to your promise and met up with Squid- you had a plan, of course you did, you would give him some money and hope he would leave you alone.

Of course the dumb bastard declined the money- of course he tried to intimidate you to “bring him to the big man” or else he was gonna go to the Maronis or Falcones- maybe they would help him; the fuck was he thinking?  That a small-time asshole like him could make a deal with Oz? 

So many thoughts were running through your head, what if you did bring him to Oz? You didn’t want to bother him, he had enough stuff he had to worry about- plus the things Oz would do to him were too graphic to think about. What if you ran? No, he would catch you- probably beat the shit out of you too. Shit.

“Ok, I’ll take you to him.” you said as you were going down the steps, him following. Fuck-fuck you had to shoot him, this motherfucker was going to ruin whatever you had going on.

You had to shoot him, no other time better than now- your pistol was in the front of your jeans. Do it now.  You grabbed your gun from your pants and before you knew it, you turned around and pulled the trigger. 

When you opened your eyes, Squid was gripping his throat- blood was coming out in buckets- he stared at you and your shocked face. Neither of you believing what you just did. Your breathing was becoming heavier and heavier- almost gasping for breath- you just shot someone- he was going to die. 

Oh god, he was dying. You watched as the light drained from his eyes and you didn’t want to stick around to see him pass so you ran- you ran to your motorcycle and then you drove above the speed limit, probably breaking a few laws too until you got underground.

 He was probably dead by now- you just killed him. You never realized that you were crying as well; you ran to his office and thanked the lord that no one was around to see you. 

You opened the door and there he was, wearing a well tailored shirt and a vest- writing something down- money next to him. He quickly looked up as he heard you come in and then dropped his head down to continue what he was writting “Well look who decided to pay me a visit”,  he muttered with a smirk; you tried to control your sobs and when he heard the shallow breath you took to steady yourself- he looked up again “The fuck happened?” he immediately got up and went towards you.

You told him what happened between sobs as he held you on his lap, seated in his chair.  You told him everything; about Squid- how he threatened to go to the Falcones or the Maronis- how you knew you had no choice and while leaning back he told you that it will get easier, this isn’t the end of the world.

“You wanna know something?” He grabbed your face and made you look at him “You did what was right, you protected yourself, what you have. No one can take that from you- I’m proud of you.” Your sad demeanor was gone by now and replaced with the familiar warmth you had whenever he said something like this.

 He kissed you and brought your body and embraced you “You’ve grown so much in these weeks, you’re no longer the kid that used to sneak around buildings-” you kissed him, bringing his lower lip between your lips. You wanted to forget- forget what happened and what you did- he always made you forget all your worries, you only ever thought about him when you were in his presence. He put his arm beneath both of your legs as you were sitting and you almost yelped when he got you on his desk.

“Oz-” Ok, maybe getting him started wasn’t the best idea, whenever you got him going he would forget about the windows in his office or the fact that someone might hear you.

You tried to bring one of your legs between the two of you, trying to stop him “-Oz, when we are home” you tried to reason with the man, even if getting fucked in his office would turn you on in the worst ways and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t getting wet already.

 He loved the power he would hold over you- whenever he would manhandle you in any position he would like or whenever he would order you to do something- you couldn’t lie, you liked it too; sometimes he would have you suck his cock as he solved the men's pay, sometimes he would have you on all fours on his bed- Oz was a man that loved to be in control, to be number one- the best. You knew that. 

He was already getting your jacket off, “Oz-” he grabbed the money from the table and placed it away from you two, before getting back to kissing and groping you.

He grabbed hold of your clothed pussy and from the feeling of his hand there- you raised your butt slightly up and pushed back into him.

 This relationship that you two had, it made you feel like a woman- it was so different than the one you had with Robert, where it was just light touches on your face and small kisses- Oswald was a man, whenever he wanted you, he would have you and it made you feel as if you were wanted and desired- it made you feel alive.

He stopped and you knew someone was probably at the door. Shit- this is so embarrassing, you looked down and without making eye contact, went into the small room connecting to his office- he had a bed there, a small one; not big enough for two people to sleep comfortably but it was something. It was also way more warm in here than outside where everyone else was working. 

You took your sweater off and sat on the bed, while listening to what he was saying to the guy that came in, something about the meeting he had and a surprise. You had to ask him about that, but after he was done with you.

 Your heart was beating out of your ches- the door opened. 

He looked at you and made small steps towards the bed, you were smiling while scooting back- with butterflies dancing in your stomach; wondering what he was gonna do next when he grabbed both of your legs and placed them on either side of him before joining you on the bed- on top of you.

One of his hands immediately went to your ass, giving him easier access to rubbing himself over you and the other one was supporting him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as your lips met his. Despite the darkness and heaviness of the moment, he still radiated a magnetic presence—full of charisma as ever, his scent enveloping you in a way that made everything else fade. From the sharpness of his aftershave to the depth of his cologne, he had it all. He started pushing himself even harder against you, where it was almost painful; you moaned in his mouth and against his tongue. 

He raised himself on his knees on the bed, casting a shadow over you and ordered you to take your jeans off and get on all fours while he was taking his vest off and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Your hands were shaking a little bit as you unbuttoned your pants and took them off.

After you obeyed him and raised your butt in the air, he grabbed hold of it- to angle you how he wanted; excitement so palpable you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, almost laughing. You felt him slowly enter you, giving you a few small moments to adjust to his size- you closed your eyes and moaned, you don’t think you’re ever gonna get enough of this man; all of him.

“Oh baby-” he was always so vocal during sex. 

The feeling of him stretching you out and the feeling of him pushing himself in you in and out- whenever he would press himself back in, he brushed up against your g-spot- the sound of his body when it connected to yours was so loud- it made your cheeks burn- you were so wet and he didn’t even touch you all that much, like that night at the club. He had a gun under your chin and you were so wet, who even were you anymore?

You arched your back, consciously making yourself as pleasing as possible for him. The act itself sent a thrill through you, but it also made your cheeks flush with a mix of desire and shy uncertainty- the usual girlhood embarrassment that flushed your cheeks overtaking your body whenever he had you like this. 

When he found his rhythm- while grabbing your waist and pushing you back into him, he’d shower you with praise. “You take me so well… you’re such a good girl—my good girl.” He knew exactly how to make your stomach flip with words like that—this old dog. 

He pulled you back against him time and time again before you felt like it was almost painful, your moans of pleasure mixing with those of pain.

He pulled himself out and got on his back next to you, ”Come ‘ere” you giggled in excitement- he loved whenever you rode him.

You squatted over him- your legs on either side of his body and with one of your hands- you brought his cock between your legs and you watched closely as his stupid grin was wiped from his face when you lowered down on him, mouth open- you gave him a quick peck on his lips. Your legs were almost shaking and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. 

From this position you could feel him so deep inside- you started to grind yourself on him- it felt so good; you almost started crying again. 

Oz grabbed your tits from underneath your shirt and was slowly pushing himself deeper in you “You’re my girl- I’m so proud-” he groaned as he said that, this mountain of a man- beneath you, between your thighs; you felt like you held the power “-I’m so proud of you.” 

From this position you could feel him brushing against your clit, the feeling only making you go faster, the thrill of reaching your peak on him taking over “easy…easy” he repeated- obviously, you didn't listen. 

You shifted the tempo, lifting yourself up before sliding back down, causing him to grimace. Without missing a beat, he pulled your upper body down, pressing you flush against him- you pressed your face against his shoulder and he grabbed it- holding it there; the cold feeling of his rings compared to how hot your face was giving you goosebumps.

You felt him adjust his legs and from this position he started to fuck you how he wanted to. He thrived on being in charge, practically reveled in the power it gave him. God, your throat was dry- you were sure you would be sore down there after you two were done.

 You knew anyone walking by could 100% hear you at this point, you tried to be quiet but to no avail with this man. Oz seemed to like whenever people would stare at the two of you and it excited him to think anyone would be listening in.

You brought your face up when he slowed down and kissed him, putting your tongue in his mouth. This felt so amazing but you knew he probably had places he had to be. “Do I make you feel good baby?” you nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the right side of his face, right on the thick scar that ran from his mouth to his cheekbone.

He was a strikingly intimidating man, his features hardened by a life of danger. You slowly brought yourself down and up- trying to match his movements. 

“You get so tight around me-” he placed his arm over you, bringing you as tight as he could on him. 

One of your hands went under the pillow he had under his head and the other was gripping the side of the bed. His rhythm was becoming sloopy- switching between fucking you and kissing you, on your cheeks or on your mouth; he grabbed your ass in both of his hands, squeezing and pushing you down on him while he fucked you. 

You looked in his eyes, the light from above casting a shadow over them that only added to his allure.  “-I’m gonna cum” you nodded again- words escaping you “Tell me where-tell me” he closed his eyes- you knew he would start with that, the only way he finished was inside you. 

Whether it was your mouth or your pussy. Oz loved when you would describe how he felt in you, how you loved when he would fuck you- how you wanted him to cum in you. It turned him on. It turned him on how embarrassed you would feel most of the time he made you say those things.

You told him you wanted it inside and It wasn’t long before he started his fast pace again and you closed your eyes, trying not to moan as loud as you would like- fuck he felt so good. It mustn't have been long before you felt him slow down and the familiar feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you. You had to drink some water- your throat was hurting. Oz hugged you close to him and while one of his hands was rubbing your back he kissed your forehead- “You feeling better?”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: Bro you just fucked him AGAIN?

Finished there the story because I KNEW i would start writing a lot and I wanna finish part 2 in time for the finale. I'm sososos excited for it and sad it will end ugh. Anyways hope you enjoyed and thank you to all the people that wrote nice things to me regarding my writing, I've been having some health problems lately and your messages made me feel so much better, truly. Have a nice day :))))))

[chasing-faith-and-fate]

hello! Sorry to ask, but could you give me an idea of what a taker is? Sorry, I’m a bit new around here and probably wasn’t around for the explanation

Yeah sure!

So takers are semi (read very very loosely) based off of mythical creatures I grew up with such as Huldra and Nøkke!

What Takers do is that they inhabit the hollowed out skins of the dead, either after they've passed themselves or by a Taker killing them. They strive to cover their whole body (which is a black void like being that comes in whatever shape they desire) if they cannot cover their whole body with one skin, they find other bodies to take from to create a patchwork.

They only take what they need, and leave the rest for other Takers.

They're very allergic to water, a bit of dew won't do anything but if they step in a puddle the skin they inhabit with start to corrode, and if water touches the void part itself- they will start smoking and burning away. This is the only way to kill them.

Takers are not intelligent, they're not sapient, they're barely sentient at all.

The only feeling they really have is anger, greed, and very rarely something akin to fear. They mirror and copy living cats if they somehow manage to live among them.

A Takers one goal is to live like sentient beings, to be a part of a community- not because of loneliness, but because that's simply what they do. It's what they've evolved to do. This is also why they're sticking around the clans, because that's the biggest collection of communal life in the area for miles upon miles. (Good thing as they could wreck human populations very quickly if given the chance).

They learn and grow as any species does. They've learned not to go after the younger members of a species, or the very old ones, because if a Taker has taken someone, that someone isn't alive anymore and therefore doesn't grow or die naturally.

There's a lot of Takers stuck in the rift because the older days the clans threw their taken members down there because they couldn't otherwise be killed.

Takers come from the Chasingclan lands, it's not been discovered why it how yet, but they do have a mirror world that only exists within the Chasingclan territory.

That should be everything? I believe so?

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

ᴛᴡ: rough foot tickling, teasing, seungmin being absolutely horrendous (ahhie baby don’t read if you’re not okay)

ᴀ/ɴ: this is so cute 🥺 ILL FINISH TKTOBER I PROMISE

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117

Chan slipped the key into the keyhole, exhausted after a long and overwhelming day, ready to get home and dive into the comfort of his warm bed. 

He pushed the door open and kicked his shoes off, snapping his head up at the sound of high pitched squeals and honey-like giggles. Oh no. Hopefully whoever that is won’t be loud. 

But curiously got the better of him, so Channie wandered around the house, trying to locate the source of those adorable giggles.

As he rounded the corner, the scene came into full view. Minho was sprawled on the couch, face bright red, writhing and helpless, laughter pouring out of him in loud, broken bursts. Seungmin sat comfortably at the end of the sofa, practically grinning as he held Minho’s ankles pinned under his weight.

“What’s going on here?” Channie’s eyes softened at the sight of his kitten, Minho looking absolutely wrecked as an evil puppy on his ankles skittered his fingers up and down Minho’s feet at such a quick pace it had poor Min squealing and kicking. 

Minho’s voice was already cracking, his words dissolving into more squeals as Seungmin dragged his nails slowly up the length of his hyung’s arch. “SEUNGMIN!! Stohohohop—y-youhure EHEHEHEVILLL!!” 

Chan laughed at that, but Seungmin smirked, unfazed by the protests. “Oh, am I? But you didn’t seem to mind starting this whole thing by teasing me earlier, hmm?” His fingers danced over the tops of Minho's toes now, making him jerk with each light, teasing stroke. “Told you there’d be consequences, hyung.”

Chan couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped as he took in Minho’s wrecked state. “Wow, Minho…didn’t know you were this ticklish.”

Minho shot him a look, wild and desperate, even though his face was twisted up with laughter. “CHAHAHAHANNIE HYUHUHUNG!! Help mehehe!!”

“Oh, hyung’s not gonna help you, sorry.” Seungmin laughed. Chan watched in amusement as poor Minhos shrieked cutely, Seungmin now focusing on his arches. 

“STAHAHAHAP!! I CAHAHAHANT BREHEHEATHE!!”

“Oh, you’re breathing just fine.” Seungmin laughed, tracing little circles over the pads of Minho’s toes, his movements slow and torturous. “What’s wrong, hyung? I thought you were tough?”

Minho let out a helpless little whine, his voice dissolving into uncontrollable giggles. “I—Seungmin—y-you—” He could barely even form words, his face turning an even brighter shade of red. Tears were pooling in the corners of his eyes, his cheeks streaked as he tried to twist away from Seungmin’s relentless hands.

And then Seungmin grinned wider, lifting one hand to pull back the hem of Minho’s sock. “Oh, you know what I think, Channie hyung? I think he needs a little more…direct attention.”

And with that, Seungmin threw Minho’s socks across the room with a flourish, smiling down at poor Minho as the older struggled, pulling at the floor to yank himself out if Seungmin’s grip. It didn’t work. 

“No…NO!! SEUNGMIN DON’T YOU DAR—AHAHAHAHAHA!!” Minho yelped, his head shook frantically, his muffled giggles turning into breathless squeals as Seungmin kept up the gentle, relentless assault. 

“Awhhh, but you have the cutest laugh~” Minho’s laughter shot up a notch, his face flushed as he threw his head back, the muffled sound of his laughter echoing through the room.

Chan watched in amusement as Seungmik refused to let up, staring at Minho’s red-flushed face and his growing frustration as Min squealed out and pounded his fists to the floor in a pure, ticklish desperation. “STOHOHOHOHOPP!! CHAHAHAN HYUHUHUUNGGG!! Hehehe’s gohohonna KIHIHILL MEHEHEHEHHE!!!”

“Oh, come on, Minho~” Chan said, grinning down at him. “You’re always telling us how tough you are. Just take it.” He chuckled, clearly more amused than sympathetic.

As if responding, Seungmin sighed and started going faster than ever, using both hands to reduce Minho into a shrieking, hysterical mess. 

The instant the vibration hit his skin, Minho’s body jolted, his laughter breaking into panicked, high-pitched squeals that barely sounded like him. “NOHO! NOHOHO! NOT THAT! NOT THAHAHAHAHAHHAT!!” He shook his head wildly, as if it could somehow stop the torment. “S-Seungmin, I swear, I swear, I’ll—I’ll get you!”

“Oh, I’m so scared~” Seungmin replied dryly, focusing the tickling on the exact spot where Minho’s arch met his heel. “You’ve got a lot of bark right now for someone who’s completely at my mercy.”

Minho’s threats melted into helpless laughter, his hands slapping the floor as he tried to twist away, only to be thwarted each time by Seungmin’s unyielding grip on his ankle. His eyes were squeezed shut, mouth open in silent laughter as his entire body convulsed from the intensity.

“STOHOHOHOHOP!! OHMYGOD SEHEHEHEUNGMIN STOP IT!! STAHAHAHAHAH—”

Laughing, Chan finally pushed himself off the doorway, kneeling down beside them. “Alright, Seungmin, you’ve had your fun. Look at him, he’s going to pass out if you keep this up.”

Seungmin, looking ridiculously pleased with himself, sighed and finally released Minho’s ankles. Minho’s legs flopped to the floor, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, cheeks flushed, eyes dazed. But as soon as he saw Chan next to him, his hand shot out, holding his hyung’s tightly. 

Chan chuckled, giving Minho’s shoulder a gentle pat. “Next time, maybe don’t provoke Seungmin, huh?” he said softly, amused at the utterly defeated look on Minho’s face.

Seungmin leaned back, stretching as though he hadn’t just completely destroyed Minho, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Lesson learned, right, hyung?”

Minho’s only response was a barely audible groan, his hand limply reaching out as if to threaten him, but he was far too exhausted to say another word.

[fountainpenguin]

Things that happened in Martyn & Cleo Double Life canon:

Cleo hoping to find her soulmate and start a life with them

Cleo dumping Martyn without giving him a chance to explain his side of the story, but hearing him out when he comes to her later

Martyn watching Cleo through his spyglass and telling the audience she seems safe and happy even though he thinks it's weird she's outside at night

Martyn, after he's had time to consider how he wants to play this, spinning a story about trying to be a provider for her and Cleo explaining that she wanted him, not things

Cleo not being remotely impressed by the "I was providing" sob story, lol

Martyn calling Cleo selfish for choosing to be with Scott because she's supposed to be HIS soulmate and he wants a partner

Cleo willing to forgive Martyn if he meets them halfway

Martyn refusing to meet them halfway because he doesn't think he did anything wrong

Martyn screaming about how Cleo's building bridges with Scott but "When will she think about mending our bridges???"

Martyn explaining to Cleo that he doesn't understand why his Session 1 actions bothered them

Martyn centering his character arc and roleplay on trying to win Cleo back without actually apologizing

Cleo giving Martyn a flower and stating that if he loses it, she'll be real cross with him

Cleo chasing Martyn out of her yard because he tried to put an HOA sign on her base and she wanted to make it clear that she wasn't associated with them and their hate for his base (even though she does think his heart base is strange)

Martyn attacking Cleo after she said attacking is a form of affection to her

Cleo setting boundaries with Martyn and explaining what he can do to get her back

Cleo sighing when Scar set her up on a date with Martyn, but taking the chance to talk to him instead of walking out

Cleo genuinely wanting Martyn in her alliance

Martyn and Cleo giggling constantly when they chat

Scar asking if Martyn wanted him to play a romantic music disc for him and Cleo (and Martyn getting excited and saying yes)

Martyn offering to take Cleo's armor and weapons to the deep dark so he can enchant them and bring them back while she stays safe

Cleo gifting Martyn diamonds, expecting nothing in return but not wanting him to die from lack of a good sword

Martyn and Cleo forming a secret alliance that allows Cleo to live with Scott while being on good terms with Martyn

Martyn expressing frustration that Cleo wants to keep this alliance secret because he wants them to be public allies; Cleo softly shushes him when people approach and might overhear

Martyn telling Cleo that she's putting out a lot of mixed signals because she keeps reeling him in and then pushing him away, claiming he is very confused about where he stands with her

Martyn teasing Cleo by punching her off a cliff and accidentally killing her and feeling so bad about it that he apologizes profusely despite roleplaying as someone who refused to apologize for Session 1

Martyn and Cleo immediately threatening Bdubs together when he said hi to them while they were hanging out, sdkfj

Martyn genuinely apologizing to Pearl for dumping her after Session 1

Martyn hiding under Cleo's bed while she defends him from an enderman attack

Cleo offering to let Martyn move into her house after Etho and Joel grief his base; Martyn saying he might take her up on that

Cleo and Martyn agreeing to move out and base together at Box

Cleo trusting Martyn with the location and resources of her red life base

Martyn rushing to Cleo's aid in the deep dark and trying to turn everyone against him instead

Cleo responding to Martyn's panicked shouts for her to eat by opening her inventory to get food (and drowning because she forgot she was in water)

Cleo hanging back and letting Martyn attack Scott while she does nothing to stop him from doing so, implying as much as she likes Scott, she won't kill Martyn (and herself) for him (and/or she trusted Scott to handle himself even though he ran away while Martyn was shooting at him)

Things that did not happen:

Cleo unwilling to forgive Martyn or consider being his friend and partner

Martyn and Cleo hating each other

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[bibleofficial]

ok so man that i hooked up w like 2 weeks ago that i wanted to see for like dates: cancelled. i’m bored of him 😭😭😭

[vault81]

ik i already did smn like this before but im doing it again!!

(template below cut!)

[sukugo]

I love your blog so much. I thought I was the only one who thinks Gojo is so compatible with his enemies like Sukuna, Toji, and sometimes even Kenjaku. Satosugu is great but Gojo just looks perfect as a villain's fuck toy instead.

thank u so much anon!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖 trust me u are absolutely not the only one, being a pretty lil fucktoy is exactly what he deserves, and who better than them to do it

[johndonneswife]

i am a simple girl. i type ‘jungkook crying’ into the youtube search bar and have the best night of my life each and every time

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Fuck being nice to you

Tags: Nanami x Reader, nsfw, mdni, exhibitionism, cock worshipping

An: I’m thinking about either doing a part two or an alternate ending where Satoru ends up joining in 🤭

“Yn, this is ridiculous- Come out from under there… No, come on. Someone’s going to see you- You want me to…. Yn, darling, that’s too risky. I promise we can do whatever we want as soon as we’re home. Just let me.. Ngh~ fuck.. don’t… don’t look at me like that.. Oh.. my god, where did you learn that..? F-fuck… This is so… irresponsible- You’re going to.. ngh agh! .. pay for this, you little m-minx.”

That’s what Nanami sounded like as you climbed under his desk, begging to taste him while you two were at work. You had successfully undone his belt buckle, and pulled his length out from his boxers and slacks.

Nanami is such a handsome, well put together man. He always smelled so clean with an undertone of his woodsy cologne. He kept himself nicely groomed… everywhere. He wasn’t shaved completely because neither he nor you liked the look. So, he kept his blondish pubic hair trimmed down for you.

His dick was also just… pretty? You always thought that was impossible after your years of being sent unsolicited dick pics by disgusting men, but Nanami?? No, his cock was pretty, long, and cut. Along his shaft, he had one protruding vein that ran up the underside of his dick. His tip was thick and swollen. It was always such a pretty shade of red when you made him hard like this. When you held it in your hands, it was nice and heavy too. You wondered how he managed to walk with that thing.

You had pressed his cock up against your face, and you fluttered your eyes up to look at him while his length was nuzzled against your cheek. It was nearly bigger than your face for fucks sake. Nanami had no business keeping weapon like that on him.

Nanami’s face burned bright red as he told you not to look at him like that. You looked so pretty on your knees below his mahogany wooden desk. All he wanted to do was wreck you, but he tried to force those thoughts aside.

Nanami was a lover in bed. He loved to kiss on you, dote on you, rub on you, make you feel so so good. He cherished and respected your body wholeheartedly. He fucking loves you. But sometimes… on rare occasions, Nanami felt the sick intense need to just ruin you. ravage you. wreck you. use you. fuck you until he’s shooting blanks.

Seeing you look up at him all nice and pretty with his cock so blatantly pressed against your face just sent his brain into overdrive.

He let out small groans as you licked his tip, teasing the very sensitive portions of his length with your tongue. He held one of his hands over his mouth to mask some of his noises. You two were still in his office, and anyone could walk in at anytime. His other hand was grasping the back of your hair, entangling his fingers in your soft locks.

A gasp left his mouth as soon as he felt your plush lips wrap around his girthy length. The wet noises that left your mouth soon following were nothing short of pornstar worthy.

You had this grown ass man moaning, growling, and shaking with your mouth alone as you sucked, licked, and kissed all along his length. You were absolutely sloppy with it too. He was always clean and put together, and you just wanted to defile him.

A mixture of your spit and his precum was gathered at the base of his length from you bobbing your head up and down. Spit trickled down his balls, and you used your hand to cup them.

“You’re so f..fucking good at this..” He groaned lowly as he kept his eyes on you. It was like watching an artist at work. “So fucking perfect… my good girl.” He cooed as he petted your head, still trying to repress the thoughts of making you his fucktoy.

His praise only seemed to make you work harder for him, swallowing and gagging around his length. You would hum and whine from the discomfort, sending vibrations up his cock. Small tears involuntarily dripped down your cheeks.

Gods, he was so fucking torn. On one hand, he wanted to wipe your tears away and tell you to be gentle with yourself. On the other, he wanted to yank your hair and make you take more of him. In his intoxicated state, he ended up doing both.

“Don’t push yourself too hard.” He chided as he forced his length down your throat.

He sounded like an absolute asshole.

If your mouth wasn’t full of cock, you’d probably giggle at his little blunder.

He was close. so fucking close. He could feel his balls tightening as he started to rut his hips upward, making you take more of him in at his pace.

So close. He was right on the edge when his office door opened.

Violence was a necessary part of Nanami’s career. He didn’t ever search it out by picking fights with people. He actually didn’t even enjoy confrontation all too much, but he wanted to fucking kill whoever was daring to interrupt his moment with you.

Nanami’s eye visibly twitch when none other than Satoru Gojo walked into his office. He was not in the mood, and he was all out of patience right now for the white-haired man.

Now, your sweet husband assumed you’d.. you know… pause your sucking while his coworker friend? was in the room. Unfortunately for him, he was unaware of your sick and twisted sense of humor.

“Nanami~” Satoru’s voice drawled in a whine as he dramatically flopped himself over the back of the chair across from Nanami’s desk.

“What is it-“ Nanami’s eyes almost rolled back into his head as you slowly took his length back into your mouth. “-Gojo?” He added as he gripped the sides of his chair tightly. His veiny hand was red, and his knuckles were turning white.

“Someone ate my dessert in the break room.” Satoru dramatically whined again. “Who would do such a thing? I’m wanting to launch an investigation.”

“Are you seriously bothering me about this right now?” Nanami hissed in a more vicious tone than he normally used. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he needed Satoru to just fuck off right now.

You swallowed his length, trying to be semi-quiet about it, but there was some wet noises. Nanami quickly coughed and shifted around in his seat. You were going to pay for this.

“Why are you so grumpy, Nanamin?” Satoru asked, unfazed by Nanami’s harsh tone. He was used to it by now. The white haired male cocked and eyebrow and lazily smirked at your husband. “Wife problems already?” He taunted.

Oh yeah, Nanami had a wife problem alright. His problem was that his wife was on her knees practically begging to be fucked.

“What do you know about-“ Nanami coughed loudly again to prevent from moaning as your tongue swirled around his tip. “- wife problems?”

“Uh… Nanamin, are you okay?” Satoru asked as he tilted his head to the side.

“Yeah.. yeah.. Actually- no, I think I’m falling ill. I think you should g-go now… I don’t want to contaminate you..” You didn’t know your husband could be such a filthy liar, but here he was. His voice was breathy and needy. He was nearly panting in front of his coworker.

“Oh- Oh ew.” Satoru’s face twisted in disgust as he hated getting sick. “Text me if you need anything, Nanamin.” He said as he promptly left the room.

As soon as Gojo was gone, Nanami rolled back in his chair quickly so he could get a good look at you.

“C’mere.” He grunted as he grabbed you by your blouse. He stood up out of his chair, pulling you to your feet.

He spun you, so his chest was against your back, and he carefully tread his hands up your sides, feeling up your curves that your pencil skirt didn’t bother to hide in the slightest.

He then gently tugged your hair back, causing for you to lean your head back into his shoulder with a small yelp. His lips ghosted over your ear. “Did you have fun making me look like a mess in front of Gojo, hm?”

You’re such a brat sometimes. You nod your head and let out a small giggle, remembering Nanami stuttering over his words and shaking while you sucked him off under the desk.

“Yeah? Was it funny?” He asked as his hand pressed to the center of your back, and he bent you over his desk. “You want to act like a whore so badly; I might as well fuck you like one, isn’t that right baby?” He purred into your ear, making your eyes widen. Nanami had never spoken to you like that before in the past. You didn’t even know he was capable of degrading you.

You fucked up.

Nanami curses as he looks at your plush ass against his bare cock. He’s carefully rutting it against your backside while he’s intoxicated by the way his cock looks buried between your clothed cheeks.

“Ken~” You moan as you arch your back up off the desk a bit more.

“Shut up.” He demands lowly. He can’t hear your whiny voice right now while he’s trying to hold whatever sliver of self restraint he has left.

“Mmnnph.. p-please..” Your whimper sends him over the edge.

“Fuck being nice to you.” He growls lowly as he pushes your tight skirt up and over your ass. He marvels at how pretty you look, bent over his desk like this.

Slap!

His hand forcibly connects with your bottom, causing you to jolt forward from surprise. A small whimper escaped your mouth. “T-too loud..”

“You didn’t seem to care earlier when Satoru was in the room. Is it different when he’s the one hearing you slurping?” He taunts lowly, and he gives your ass another firm spank.

“N-no!” You whine out.

“You wanted him to hear you, didn’t you?” Your husband growls as he swats you again.

“No, I-I just wanted t-to make you feel good.” You’re practically searching for friction on his desk. The ache deep inside you feels like torture. You raise your hips again, hoping Nanami will finally just take you.

Your words tug at his heartstrings a bit. Deciding you’ve had enough punishment, he pulls your panties down around your ankles. He carefully presses his fingertips to your warm, wet heat, and he groans from the feeling.

“You’re this wet from sucking me and getting spanked?” God, you’re a national treasure to him. So perfect in every way.

You weakly nod and hum in approval. You try to push back on his fingers, but they were already gone. The sound of clothes shuffling filled the room as Nanami pushed his pants and boxers further down his thighs for easier access.

He looks down at you with a barely noticeable smirk as your displayed so prettily for him over his desk. His wife’s pretty cunt was practically begging to be fucked, and who was he to deny her that pleasure?

A small grunt escapes his mouth as he aligns himself with your dripping entrance. He feels a bit of resistance against his cock that normally isn’t there. He normally preps you a lot more, given that he knows his size can be uncomfortable if not properly prepared.

“Ken.. ngh.. p-prep?” You breathily ask as you drag your hips upward, presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat.

“No, I want you to feel this, baby.” He lowly coos before burying himself to the hilt deep inside of you. Your fingernails claw at the desk, and tears spring into your eyes involuntarily.

“F-fuck!” You whimper out, trying to hold yourself together.

Nanami lets out a quiet groan from the feeling. You’re squeezing him so perfectly right now. His hands trap you against the desk, and he pulls all the way until just his tip is in before pushing back inside forcefully. He repeats this motion a few times, making you feel every inch of him. You did this to him. You asked for this.

Small whiny gasps and moans fled your mouth. You tried to be quiet. You really did, but it was so hard when he was fucking you so deliciously from behind, making your cunt squelch with each forceful thrust.

“I hope he comes back and sees you like this.” Nanami growls lowly in your ear. “.. sees my pretty wife.. ngh fuck! .. taking my cock so well..”

His words literally have you hypnotized. The thought of someone walking in was frightening yet erotic at the same time.

“I wouldn’t stop either.” He goes on as his hips clap against your ass. “I’d let him watch how I fuck my wife.”

“Ken~” You whine from his vulgar words. You’re practically seeing stars as he hits all the right places. He knows you like the back of his hand. He knows just how you like to be fucked.

As you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, Nanami growls from the look on your face. You look so fucked out and cock drunk already. He can’t hold back anymore.

His grasp on your hips is nearly bruising as he pounds himself into you, not caring about the noise. The desk creaks and scrapes against the ground with each powerful thrust. You try to keep yourself together as he fucks you into oblivion, but your body is nothing but a puddle.

“F-fuck~! Ken, I- .. cumming..” You barely manage to warn him before you’re spasming on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm until you’re panting and whimpering against his desk. You weakly try to sit up, but his large hand catches your shoulder and forces you back down.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He lowly growls as he resumes his harsh thrusts. Your hands grab at the desk tightly, and your eyes screw shut as your poor cunt is so sensitive.

“Fucking… ah~ fucking take it, slut.” He demands as he rails you from behind. His thrusts are growing erratic and uncoordinated. He’s so close for the second time. He leans down over your back, and he bites down on your shoulder harshly before pumping you full of his cum. Your sloppy hole clenches around him as you find your second orgasm. Something about Nanami taking what’s his just really did it for you.

Slowly, he releases your shoulder from his teeth, and he presses soft kisses into the bite mark. “Are you okay, my love?” His adoring tone his back.

“‘m perfect..” You mumble quietly, on cloud 9 from receiving the best dick of your life.

“That you are, darling. So perfect.” He praises as he trails his kisses up the side of your neck. “I love you so much. You’re such a good wife.” His lips press against your jaw and cheek. “and a good girl too.”

“So, I’m not a slut?” You ask with a small giggle, remembering how he degraded you for the first time earlier.

“You’re my slut.” He quietly corrects with a soft chuckle. He then quietly hisses as he pulls out of you. He watches as some of his cum trickles down your swollen cunt. “So pretty.” He murmurs quietly as he leans into your heat and presses a small kiss to your sensitive folds, making you shiver.

“You’re not going to get any work done at this rate, Nanamin.” You playfully chide as you bite your bottom lip, silently hoping he’ll kiss your cunt again.

“Fuck that work.” He grumbles lowly before pressing another wet kiss against your core as you tremble before him.

He didn’t get any work done that day.

tags: @theuniversesnepobaby @lemonlimecrystal-blog

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[logansbaby]

guys i need logan so bad, i cant stop thinking about him between my thighs— someone sedate me before i spend all night writing horny thoughts

18+ content below

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

logan howlett is a man that loves eating you out. in fact, he craves it. the taste of you, the moans you try to stifle, the feel of your thighs threatening to enclose around his head as he tongue fucks you.

he already goes feral when fucking you, but once he gets that honey-sweet taste of you on his tongue, dancing around on his tastebuds? oh, he’s fucking animalistic.

if he had it his way, he’d be eating you out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner each day. obviously, that’s not possible but he tries his hardest to be between your thighs as much as possible.

each era of logan would be a different type of crazed for you. for example:

❥ early xmen logan getting back from a mission? logan would ignore everyone in his path and beeline to your shared room in the mansion. his nose would twitch at the scent of you. before he barges in, your mutant abilities would have you rushing out of bed (in one of his old t shirts that still smelt like him and white, frilly panties— a sight that always had logan panting) and throwing yourself in his arms. the sheer adoration present in the way you wrap your arms around his neck would have him lifting you up in his strong arms, smashing his lips to yours and cutting off whatever words fell from your pretty mouth. he wouldn’t be able to help it, the scent of you had him going dizzy with want. he’d throw you on the bed and immediately get to work, pressing scorching kisses to your clothed pussy. it wouldn’t be long before he’d had you bare for him, diving in and messily making out with your puffy clit, tongue dipping into the part of you that leaks messily with desire. when you’d wake up the next morning, you’d find your thighs littered with bruises in the shape of his mouth.

❥ old man logan would be needy in random moments. more often than not he’s working odd jobs or sleeping off the excruciating pain that plagues the entirety of him. so, there’s not a lot of time he gets to truly be where he wants to be; between your thighs, calves thrown around his shoulders as he licks at your weeping cunt.

there’s a night he comes into the makeshift home, limping in pain and maroon liquid seeping through his white dress shirt. his handsome face screams tired, but the second you try to comfort him and clean him up, he simply grips your hand and pulls you to the bed. he lays down first, not thinking to tend to his injuries, but instead beckoning you to him with a soft, sensual caress of your name.

when you’d sit beside him, still confused, he’d get frustrated and use all his strength to pull you up and onto his chest.

“wanna eat your pussy, baby” he’d say and oh, how you’d melt at the pure lust in his eyes, the hunger evident in his actions as he tugs you further until your cunt hovers over his mouth, the thin cloth of your underwear the only separation. he’d be too lazy to get them off properly, so he’d just pull the fabric to the side before absolutely ravishing you. his graying beard would sting your thighs deliciously as he licked your center desperately. he’d always say you tasted sweet, like honey mixed with something entirely you that had him crazed. he’d wrap his lips around your throbbing clit and suck, not letting up until you were humping his face with frantic whimpers, your release slicking him up. and since he rarely got to have you like this, he’d want to get a couple more orgasms out of you. he’d keep you on his face and wreck you entirely until you were both exhausted.

❥ 70’s logan would be a little different because instead of having his focus completely on you, he’d be a little selfish. meaning, he’d sit you right on his face but backwards, because not only is he 100% an ass man, he wants you to suck him off whilst he pleasures you. the feel of your pretty, puffy pussy on his mouth would have him hard, throbbing against his thigh and he wouldn’t be able to concentrate fully. so, his solution would be to have you on his mouth, where he’d lap up at your slick pooling on his tongue, while also having your spit-slicked lips wrapped around the entirety of him, gagging as he’d thrust deep into your throat. of course, you wouldn’t complain, you were just as needy for him as he was for you, so it made sense.

❥ lumberjack logan would be the filthiest for sure. being tucked away in your shared cabin, surrounded by the vast forests and mountains, would have him completely driven by lust more often then not. if he was coming home and found you prancing around mindlessly in one of his flannels and nothing else, he’d pick you up effortlessly and place you on the counter, knocking anything off in favor of spreading your thighs and licking fat stripes along your center, and dipping his tongue inside you.

if he was picking you up from your work, he wouldn’t be able to wait until you were home. he’d simply pull off to the side of the road, lead you to the backseat and fuck you senseless with his filthy mouth until you were reduced to a whining, mumbling mess.

and at home? he’d eat you out in every room, on every surface there was just because.

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

[aakeysmash]

Tell me you love me

Pairing: f!reader x Sukuna Ryomen.

Word count: 2512.

Warnings: ANGSTTTTTT. An attempt at it at least lmao, let me know if I did a good job with it. A bit suggestive in the middle. Cursing. Mentions of cheating (mentions!!! No cheating in this house).

People often say that Sukuna would be obsessed with the reader/oc, but I think a relationship with him would be the hardest thing ever.

He doesn’t get the concept of being in love: at the start of your relationship he found out you were more tolerable than anyone else, he assumed that meant he liked being around you and went along with it. Of course he fell in love in the long run, but for him it’s embarrassing to admit it. He barely even said it when you asked him why he wanted you to move in with him.

It’s not like he isn’t obsessed with you: he’s obsessed with the way you just seem to get him, with the way you smile when he comes home from a long day at work, with the utmost kindness you treat people around you with and that he lacks completely. He’s mesmerised by you, by the curve of your hips, the brightness of your eyes, the softness of your hands on his body.

He doesn’t show it, though.

He’s used to being rough and redeems emotions as futile. Like he already said to you in a couple of your arguments, if you get him you get him, if not, he’s not explaining himself. Everything he does is thought of and automatically right, so why would he give you explanations?

But sometimes in relationships you need communication. He doesn’t see how intense it is to be next to someone who acts like he doesn’t care about what you want to share in your daily life. And again, he does care: if he could, he’d make a copy of you yapping and just listen to it on repeat while working. He loves how passionate you sound while talking about your hobbies, he finds the little tilt to your voice when you search for his approval adorable. He doesn’t see how difficult it is to be with him because he’s only been with you, and you’re so good at communicating and making him feel heard he doesn’t notice he’s not reciprocating your efforts.

And that means that he’s never the one who wants to resolve misunderstandings, because he thinks they don’t really exist. You were upset about your dish not coming out the way it was supposed to and instead of reassuring you it was still edible he straight up said it looked horrible and walked away? He’s not sorry. He spoke his mind, did he not? And why would you be sad about the truth?

You’re not weak, and you’re not shy either. Kind people are not necessarily stupid, and you’re living proof of that. He’d never be in a relationship with a weakling who doesn’t know how to raise her voice and stand her ground. You’re fierce in your own way, and you know how to manage his stubbornness 90% of the time. You don’t like being disrespected or ignored, and you made sure to talk his ear off whenever he did it. Not like he purposefully did it, anyway.

But as a person who understands emotions and feels emotions, sometimes being with him frustrates you. And it comes to a point where you debate on keeping being next to him or leaving him for good.

He’s not the only one who has hard days, but when both of you have one, the silence inside your house is deafening. You’re the one who usually starts up conversations, but your mind is occupied with other things. You’ve barely touched your food.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He scoffs at dinner. He doesn’t like you frowning, it wrecks his heart. It makes him want to destroy the face of whoever took the smile he lives for off your face.

You sigh. “You know how my parents said they were coming to visit us next month? Well-”

He’s silent. Fuck, when did she say this? He thinks. Probably one of those days where the thought of your thighs suffocating him all night plagued his mind last week. Fuck, he’d take a bite of them right now if you let him. Maybe he could suggest it. It could take his mind off of his own shitty day.

“Are you even listening to me?” You say sternly. He notices you kept on talking while his mind wandered, but he disregards it.

“Wanna fuck?” He asks instead.

You’re baffled. “Sukuna, what the fuck?”

“Damn, you could’ve just said no, brat,” he says rolling his eyes.

You get offended. “Don’t fucking ask me what’s wrong if you’re not going to listen to me.”

“Yeah yeah, you were probably going to talk about how worried you are and shit. I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to get my dick wet I’m going to rub one out,” he says waving his hand in front of your face and standing up from his chair.

You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Would you prefer me to find someone else to do it for me?” He bites, snapping his head toward you.

He sees you widening your eyes. If there’s a thing you don’t tolerate is cheating, or jokes about it. He knows it. He knows it, dammit. You’re fuming.

“You’re an asshole. Fuck you. I’m sleeping at Nobara’s,” you spit at him, grabbing the purse you left on the side of the table and rushing out the door, slamming it.

When he’s left alone in your shared living room, he keeps on looking at your front door. The silence is making his head hurt, the only thing he’s hearing is the sound of the door slamming. Did he overstep? Nah, you were probably overreacting. He shrugs and finally moves from his spot, going to put his dish in the sink. He leaves yours on the table, because maybe you’ll be hungry when you come home. You usually are after an argument. You’ll come back after a couple of hours saying you didn’t want to worry him too much, you’ll sigh saying this can’t keep on happening and that you’re tired of arguing, then he’ll hug you and everything will be alright. Just like it always is. You’ve never left like this, though.

He ruffles his hair; he’s angry at everything and everyone. You should’ve got that he’s the one overreacting, why didn’t you get him like usual? Why aren’t you still back after 3 hours? He hates feeling angry. He hates feeling tired. He hates feeling in general. Most importantly, he hates that the hands in his hair are his and not yours. He hates the way right now he’s craving your soft voice reassuring him in his ear, your sweet words covering him like a blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat while lying on your couch, reminding you that you’re there. You’ve always been there. There’s no one else for him, there’s never going to be one. He’d never cheat, you’re so stupid for getting angry about it. Why did you get so mad about it? Suddenly, he’s thinking about random stuff you said that he ingrained in his head.

I love you too, Sukuna. I’ll wait for you to tell me that without me forcing it out, mh? I’ll move in with you, sure, if you ask me so that nicely.

You picked this book because it reminded you of me? Thank you, baby. I love it. Both the book and the fact you thought of me.

Can you stop messing up my sock drawer? No, I did not hide your cigarettes there. But please stop smoking, I love when you taste like my lip gloss and not that disgusting shit you inhale. Give me a kiss so I can prove it to you. I’ll take your breath away way better than tobacco.

He smirks while on the couch, alone. You’re so cute. He wants to bottle up your laugh. Why aren’t you back still? His mind doesn’t stop, though.

You hurt me, Sukuna. Why can’t you notice?

I feel like you don’t care about me.

If I hadn't come to you, would you have come to me? Or would you just have ignored this whole argument and acted like nothing happened?

Am I just filling up a random space you leave open for a significant other or am I the significant other that’s capable of filling that void?

That night he dreams of you. The way you glared at him asking him if he was serious, almost like a warning before you lashed out. He dreams of the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he spewed nonsense. And when he wakes up, you’re still not back. Your unfinished plate is still on the kitchen table.

But he’s prideful, that’s why you’re the one that’s always trying to resolve arguments. Yes, you’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You always came back during the 3 years you've been together.

A week passes by and he's going crazy. You haven't contacted him at all, and he didn't text first. He lies to himself saying it's because he's leaving you some space, but the truth is that he's scared. What is he even supposed to say? Hey, I'm sorry, I miss you, please come home? That's pathetic. He's taking a shower when suddenly his phone rings. His heart skips a beat and he rushes out to check if it's you. Please, let it be you.

Instead it's Yuji, his brother.

Yuji: Hey, what happened with y/n? She asked me to come get some of her things for her. Is she sick?

Sukuna frowns. Then he realizes that- you're going to move out. You're going to break up with him.

He goes into panic mode. He never thought about the possibility of you leaving him. He thought you would come back, like you always do. Why would you leave him? Is it because you finally realized that you're better off with someone who knows how to express their feelings for you? Did you get tired of him? Have you already found someone else?

He finds himself knocking on Nobara's door in the next ten minutes. He ran, he's sweating and it's starting to rain. He's out of breath, and he gets his hands on his knees while he waits for you to open the door. He's not ready to let you go. He can't even fathom a life where he doesn't wake up to you trying to get warm between his arms, without you nagging him while watching a film together, without helping you bake cookies while laughing with each other. Without not being able to talk from how in love he is while looking into your eyes. And he knows that if you leave him he's never going to be able to live in his own house ever again, or walk down the street you always do together, or go grocery shopping and not thinking about you while looking at vegetables. You always said you liked vegetables and he always lied about liking them just to see you excited about cooking them together.

"Yuji, I didn't think you'd be this fas- oh," you open the door and your face falls when you see it's Sukuna. He snaps his gaze toward your face when he hears your voice. He missed it so much. You're so beautiful. He missed all of you. So much.

Neither of you move, you just keep staring at each other. This time, he knows he's going to have to talk first. For the first time, he realizes how hard it actually is to confront someone first. Do you feel like this every time?

"Come home," he says. "Please," he adds.

You look sad. "I don't think I'm going to, Sukuna. It's been more than a week and you didn't even reach out to say... I don't even know what. I know you don't say sorry. You never do."

Your words feel like knives. From where you're standing you're taller than him, and he has to look up to look at you. It's like he's in front of the pearly gates of heaven and an angel is making him confess all the wrong things he did, except in this scenario you're the angel and the things he did are just what he thinks about all of this. About you in general.

And you're right, he doesn't usually say sorry. The words get stuck in his throat and he just gapes up at you, still catching his breath. Pathetic.

You sigh, then go to close the door. You don't look at him anymore and he feels like he can't breathe, and not because of the run.

"I'll come get my things next week. Go home, you'll get wet," you say. And your voice is clear, you're not mumbling, you must have thought about this. He sees how hard you're clenching your jaw to appear resolute, your nails hurting your palms from how hard you're closing your hands. But you still manage to worry about him, worry about him possibly catching a cold from the rain. And he loves you. Fuck, he loves you so much.

"Wait," he manages to say. You look at him with longing. With sorrow.

And he feels like he's crying to the angel in his afterlife when he opens his mouth again, thorns in his throat getting tighter, suffocating him. But he doesn't cry here, in front of you, even if maybe you'd like it. You'd probably say that you appreciate him showing emotions, maybe tease him for it, but you'd like it. He'd kiss you while you're still laughing, saying you're stupid, and you'd continue laughing.

"I love you," he rasps out. The words feel so unfamiliar to his tongue, but so familiar to his ears. You always tell him you love him. "I'm sorry for being a shithead. Please don't leave me. I promise you I'll get better at this communication shit," he begs.

You still don't move, but he sees you getting softer.

"Go home, Sukuna. We'll talk about it when it's not raining," you utter.

"No, I don't fucking want to," he snaps. You're startled, and he cringes. He's really not used to all of this. He doesn't like scaring you.

"Fuck, I meant to say I want to get over it right now. I didn't want to scare you. I want you back, Y/N. Please, have me back. I'll get better for real," he says while getting progressively closer to you.

"You promise?" You ask, now shorter than him. You're a step of distance from each other.

"I promise, baby. I'll make you the happiest girl to ever exist," he tells you, looking at you intensely.

"Start by saying you love me again," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He engulfs you in his own arms, inhaling the smell of your shampoo, then snorts.

"Sure. I'm in love with you, brat."

Being in a relationship with Sukuna is hard, but he loves you easily.

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s not an odd moment for Simon to come sit in his office. He does it fairly often, either to get away from people wanting his attention or to cool off and relax. But this time, he looks more than his usual serious as he sits down and sets a file in front of Price. They make eye contact, and Price picks up the folder, looking it over, before a brief surprise flashes in his gaze and he looks over the papers.

“You’re not re-enlisting?” He asks in shock.

“It’s time to get out,” Simon simply says.

Price isn’t going to engage something so serious with lies. “This about her?”

Simon almost bristles. Almost.

“She’s a wreck without ‘im.” He looks at the old man. “The kids are strugglin’.”

“Morrigan and JJ—”

“They need their mother back,” he cuts him off. “She can’t do it alone.”

“So you’re stepping up to play dad.” It’s a bit of a low blow.

“I’m not replacin’ Soa—I’m not replacin’ John.”

“So this is about her then.”

“I’m not in love with ‘er,” he retorts and like a fool, realizes he just shot himself in the foot. “She needs someone.”

Price reclines in his seat, lights a cigar—he’s too old for this. “I can’t stop you.”

“But you want to,” Simon replies.

“Can’t deny losing you will be a walk in the park with every superior we have.”

Simon looks at him. “Price, I need to do this. I…I owe it to ‘im to do this. To be there. To look after them. It’s…it’s what ‘e would’ve wanted me to do.”

“I know, son,” he says gently. “I know.”

“I’m not in love with ‘er,” he says, uncharacteristically weak.

“It’s okay if you are,” he smiles with with a softness. “She’s a helluva woman.”

Simon chokes back a snort at that. “She was to wrangle a man like Soap.”

Price eyes him for a good moment, they stare back into each other’s gaze. “Can I tempt you with reserves?”

“You can try,” he shoots back with a grin.

He sighs fondly through his nose. “Go home, Lieutenant.” Before he can get up, Price adds, “To Soap’s.”

“Yes, sir,” he says quietly and stands, looking down at his sitting captain. “I care about ‘er. About the kids.”

He looks at Simon and sees the scrappy eighteen-year-old just out of boot camp standing before him, the chip on his shoulder, and a desire to take on the world.

“You’re a good man, son,” he commends. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies and turns, pulling out his phone. He shoots her a quick text.

Leave a plate out for me on the table?

Her response is almost instantaneous.

Already waiting.