#like the sweetest destruction mhmm

[slippinninque]

This is just... EVERYTHING

SHE — OJ HAYWOOD

"she, (she), she lives in daydreams with me, she's the first one that i see"

pairing oj haywood x Black! afab fem!reader

summary oj's stoic demeanor is long gone when he makes love with you.

contents oral (fem receiving), rlly rlly passionate lol, unprotected sex, praise but like.. in a very oj way, belly bulge but make it so fucking romantic, reader and oj are fucking whipped omg, creampie let's go, it's actually insane how in love they are like woah am i interrupting something..? coded language (core, clit), reader has afab! parts but there's no pronouns used

words 1.5k

notes reupload from my old blog. i wrote this in like one day. oj's just my silly little stoic man with a heart of pure gold. pls listen to "she" by harry styles while reading this omg. ignore the lyrics tho cause i only rlly relate the chorus and the sound of the song to this fic and to oj cause it's just one of them songs.

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oj’s so good at making love to you.

he’s good from the beginning. good as he grinds against you slowly, kissing you just hard enough to leave you breathless but also wanting more. good when he pulls your shirt off along with his, eyes taking in your lack of a bra. good when he kisses down your body, pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving kisses on your thighs. 

he’s almost reverential with the way he handles you, the definition of passion as spreads you open for his worshiping eyes, dips right down and licks a stripe up your core. he lets you squirm, knows just how fucked out you get when he goes down on you.

he moves up to focus on your clit, already puffy and aching to be touched. he doesn’t deny you any pleasure, slips his mouth around you clit and sucks, licking with it still in his mouth. your hands find his head to pull him closer and he just lets you, lets you damn near use him. 

he doesn’t mind. he never does.

even as your hips begin to move against his tongue, he keeps his movements steady, a low groan of “mhm, that’s right” leaving his mouth, nodding against you and sending waves of honey-like ecstasy through you. 

it’s always so maddening, endorphic, borderline insane when he goes down on you, sweet pleasure trickling through your veins until you’re like putty in his hands, hips barely able to continue their rocking motions against his determined tongue. no matter, though, he takes over when it gets to be too much, when your body can’t keep up with what he’s done to you. 

soft moans of his name slip past your lips and he knows what you mean, knows all too well that you’re about to reach that precious peak that he’s so willing to throw you off of. fingers join his tongue on your clit, rub in tight circles with the skill of a man you’ve known for years.

he lives for this, for this feeling ordained by the gods above. lives for the way your thighs close around his head, the way your hands try and fail to find purchase in his short curls. he loves making love to you in so many different ways, the knowledge that he’s yours and you’re his, that he is making love to you, makes his mind feel indescribably perfect. 

“oj, ‘m gonna—”

“i know, baby. you got it.” it’s a low murmur, paired with another nod and just a little more pressure on your clit with his tongue and fingers. he knows you like the back of his hand. he knows your whines, your whimpers, your short little breaths that he only hears right before you—

“you’re good, baby. give it to me.” and you do. hips roll over and over again against him, meet his dutiful moves against you, send you higher and higher and impossibly higher, until you’re not sure you’ll ever come down. you float like a fucking bird, wings lifted with the air of oj’s masterful, almost adoring, motions. it’s always like this, always so fucking sweet , mind-numbingly so. the saccharine pleasure drips throughout your veins, his soft groans of affirmation drifting to you as you lay suspended in the blissful madness he’s given you.

you come for oj in a way that’s so different, because the way in which he makes love to you is so different. and you love it.

you love it as he slows down to a stop, kisses your shaking thighs and fluttery stomach, making his way up to your softly heaving chest. he continues his pursuit, lifting up until your lips connect, transferring your taste to your lips. any other time, this would be filthy, the sharing of your taste on his tongue. but now, it’s so right, fits in perfectly with the way oj handles you. 

your hands make their way to the waistband of his jeans, pull the denim down along with his boxers and he finishes the job for you. you feel him, hard and heavy against your thigh, so turned on from just pleasing you. it’s always a gratifying experience, knowing that it’s you that makes him this way. no matter his exterior— the stoic cowboy, preferring horses over people, chooses his words carefully as though he’d die if he spoke too much— he loves you. you are the tear in his heart, that one thing that breaks down his walls. 

and you feel it when he entraps your lips in another kiss as you reach down between you two and line him up with your entrance as he groans at your touch, and he slides in with one smooth stroke, your body always open to him. you both can’t break the kiss for him to do anything other than thrust oh-so softly, movements barely there. but it’s enough, god it’s more than enough, because every touch, every fluttery glide of his hips against yours is like fucking magic, the shared love between you two heightening everything tenfold.

this is how oj makes love to you. face to face, your legs coming up to wrap around his waist as he pushes into you slow and deep, hits every single spot you need him to. he’s calculated with his moves, like he is with everything, hands balancing him above you as his chain bumps your chin with every forward stroke. kisses broken are reciprocated just as quickly, mere milliseconds separating every one. 

“you're so good, baby.” it’s genuine, his brain blanked and grasping for words to describe the feeling you always give him. whines meet him in response, you’re too far gone to manage anything else.

this feels almost criminal, the pureness of his love, reflected in his every move, in every kiss he places against your lips. his every thrust is on purpose, is meant to drive you wild, to somehow translate his love for you into something tangible. and it works. you feel it, feel what you know is impossible for him to say. 

you don’t speak much, dirty talk reserved for times other than now. now, is just him moving inside you, you pushing down against him. bodies together, lips locked in an almost infinite kiss. and then he shifts just a bit, brushing over that perfect spot. the whine that meets him in response, one from deep in your stomach, tells him all he needs to know.

“there we go.” he drawls, heavy accent making his words that much more insanity-inducing, goosebumps raising up on your heated skin as he directs his gaze to where you connect, eyes falling on the bulge that’s so prominent. “i’m right there, baby. you feel it?” he wears a slight smile, loves making love to you like this. 

“feel it, oj. feels so good .” another depraved whine meets his ears, words an abstract to you that you don’t think you’ll ever understand again. his pace is steady, building you up without ever moving past a slow grind. and you’re gonna come again.

“you close, baby?” he asks, knowing how much you love his voice, how you live for how he talks to you when you’re together like this, how even though he doesn’t have to say a word to get you this high, his voice can push you that much higher. you just nod, meet his lips again and moan into his mouth when his fingers meet your clit, rubbing those same brain-numbing circles from earlier. god he’s so good, so fucking good and this is it, you’re gonna come for him once again. 

“come on, baby, let me have it.” that’s all you need to hear. the pleasure pooling inside you overflows, spills over the edges of your being as you you’re dunked into it, mouth and nose and entire body filling up with the sweet feeling that oj has once again given to you. his praises float to your ears, a soft murmur of “that’s it, baby, you got it.” breaking through your syrupy delirium, pulling you even farther into what you can only feel as indescribable bliss. 

oj’s so close too, streams of shakes moving through his body as you come around him, your back arching into his chest, legs tightening around his waist. his head is tucked into your neck now, placing soft kisses against the skin there. he doesn’t have to say anything, because you know he’s almost there, turning your head to whisper into his ear, your turn to drive him absolutely mad. 

“come on, oj, need it, wanna feel you.” it leaves you as a moan, and it’s more than enough to drive him mad, his hips still moving slowly as he lets go just as you did, breath heavy, small groans escaping his mouth that’s still pressed into your neck. you hum as you feel him inside you, warmth filling your body and seeping into your bones. his lips meet yours again, kissing slow and soft, like always. you both don’t intend to move for a while, chests rising and falling in tandem as you soak in the afterglow of love, bodies close enough to fuse. this is your natural state, oj sinking love into your skin just for you to give it right back to him. 

this right here.. this is perfection. this is how oj makes love. 

[lol-im-done]

Blossoming Love (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

I've been so obsessed after watching the Batman and this idea came to me one morning. This will likely have a second part. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Set after the events of 'The Batman', a GCPD detective with a crush on the Batman has a one night stand with Bruce Wayne not knowing they are the same man. What results is a blossoming love that they never thought possible. Will likely be split in two parts.

Tags: Unplanned Pregnancy, Friends to Lovers

Part One:

Before Bruce had met you he had a general idea of how his life was going to go, even after the Riddler had brought destruction to Gotham. He would continue to live his double life, bring justice and become a symbol of hope to the city as Batman. He would then return, worn out and bruised to Wayne Tower and find ways to try and feel human as he continued to live in solitude. It had been a few weeks after they had drained the city and rebuilt the sea walls that things began to pick up again. With crime rampant it would take a lot to get it back under control so he found himself in the company of Jim Gordon and his team more often. He had seen you around here and there but finally became introduced to you when you officially joined Gordon’s division. You were Jim Gordon’s right hand person, probably the only other person besides Batman he fully trusted in his line of work. You were intelligent, witty and above all compassionate and kind which was rare to find in Gotham these days. Maybe that’s what attracted Bruce to you when he started interacting with you. You greeted him with a bright smile, not with a look of distrust like the others. Gordon trusted him and that was enough for you. He was so broody, so silent and intimidating you couldn’t help but want to crack that tough exterior. It also didn’t help that you had begun harboring a crush on the masked vigilante.

“Catch any baddies tonight Batman?” you would ask and Bruce would get a flutter in his chest at your words. He was hesitant to call you a friend at first but soon enough you had solidified him as your own.

“I don’t know who you are under the mask or dark eyeshadow-,” you said one day.

“Paint. Not eyeshadow,” he corrected gruffly as he examined the dead body in front of him.

“Sure Batman,” you grinned before continuing. “But we see each other pretty regularly, we exchang semi personal information though that's mostly me, we joke. I’ve also saved your life once or twice,” you chuckled. “So yes you’re my friend,” you finished with that gentle smile.

“You saved my life one and a half times,” he deadpanned, making you tilt your head back and laugh. He swore it was the sweetest sound he had heard. But you were right, you had saved his life before. ‘The best shot in GCPD’ they called you due to your extremely steady hands and expert eyes, you rarely missed your shot. You had been at one point a special sniper for the GCPD for hostage situations before moving to Gordon’s team. So when Batman was cornered by trained killers in a warehouse one night you had burst in and with efficiency let your bullets fly, taking them all down.

“Bet you regret your thing about no guns,” you smirked as he stood there dumbfounded before Gordon arrived with backup. Bruce had to return quickly to his bathroom that night for an extremely cold shower, trying to get the heated thoughts about you out of his mind. After that it became harder to make eye contact with your captivating eyes.

“Batsy Batsy,” you mused as he entered the crime scene. You were jotting down notes, hair piled atop your head and he admired the way some of the strands framed your face.

“Anything of importance?” he asked, his intimidating gaze roaming the room.

“Mhmm. We got a partial by the window and actually some….,” you began but your words blurred away as he watched you, only focused on your animated style of talking which he found so endearing. As you spoke he found himself thinking about what it would be like to be with you as Bruce Wayne. To be able to form a true friendship, to truly laugh with you and be himself. The day he would meet you as Bruce came sooner than he anticipated when you showed up to the Wayne Tower one late evening. Alfred had been hesitant to let you up but Bruce insisted quickly on allowing you in, hands nervously combing through his hair to look presentable. When you walked into the main foyer of his home he had to force himself to act normally, to act as if he had never met you before.

“I apologize Mr. Wayne I’ve been sent by Detective Jim Gordon of the GCPD. We have a few questions about an acquaintance of yours,” you apologized with that familiar smile.

“Of course, whatever I can do to help,” he replied, gesturing to the table as he pulled out a seat for you. For the next half hour you asked your questions trying so hard to concentrate on your task at hand and not the incredibly attractive Bruce Wayne next to you. Those eyes, god those eyes, you felt you could drown in them. The attraction was mutual and clear when he invited you to stay for a glass of wine. It was probably incredibly inappropriate but you were technically no longer on the clock and that wine sure looked good. He brought you to a side room, the lamps casting shadows across his handsome face and you took a seat on the grand loveseat, admiring the beautiful architecture.

“Do you usually invite people to stay for wine?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“People don’t usually come over,” he replied with a small shrug as he poured you some wine. You would like to say you were drunk with what happened next but you had barely finished your own glass as you chatted away with the charming but shy man in front of you when his hand went to your knee. You froze, eyes latching onto his as he whispered your name almost like a plea. Surging forward for a powerful kiss, electricity crackled between you two as his hands immediately roamed over your body. Bruce was desperate to have you, your moans and whines like music to his ears. In a matter of minutes you were both naked on the carpet but before he took it further he paused, pressing his forehead to yours in a strangely intimate way.

“Bruce,” you gasped out as he filled you, crying out in pleasure. He took you there on the carpet and again in his room from dusk until dawn. There was no time to really think of what you had done as you left early the next morning wishing you could stay in his arms but with a sigh you walked out. So deep in your thoughts you forgot to leave a note with your name and number just in case. Instead you had left your card with the woman at the front who gave you a disapproving look making you go red with embarrassment. Bruce never left your thoughts after that as you daydreamed of his voice, his hands, and those eyes. Four weeks later when you missed your period you had returned to the Tower practically in tears, to try to see him but were turned away as if you were trash. You had tried what you could to get in contact with him but no luck and you tried not to take it personally. It took you a few days of wallowing and crying to make your mind up. You were capable and ready. You could do this, so you wiped your tears, let your family know before striding into work to notify them of your pregnancy and were placed on desk duty until it was time for your maternity leave.

It had been too long, weeks and weeks of waiting to see you as Bruce or Batman but you were nowhere to be found. Bruce had fought the urge to track you down, he was so close to getting into your personal files out of sheer desperation until Alfred intervened. He could see the turmoil Bruce was facing but he reminded him of your right to privacy so Bruce was left with no other choice but to let you go. He never thought he’d see you again as he resumed his restless nights as Batman. Until tonight. There you were chatting to Gordon outside of the abandoned warehouse, soft murmurs filling the air as other cops walked around gathering evidence. Bruce slowly made his way towards you silent even in his suit, noticing the way your hair had gotten longer since he saw you last. Strangely you held one hand to your back as if trying to get comfortable standing and he wondered if you had gotten hurt during this drug bust. He caught Gordon’s eye first who softly poked your shoulder, before gesturing towards him. Slowly you turned, eyes bright and smile widening as you made eye contact with Batman.

“B-Man!“ you waved and he would have returned it but instead he stopped mid step as his eyes roamed down to your stomach. Shit, he thought.

“Oh this old thing,” you joked, moving your jacket aside to reveal a blooming baby bump but he remained silent as stone.

“I’ll let you guys catch up,” Gordon said, noticing the increasing awkward tension before walking off. Bruce could not stop staring and he knew it must have made you uncomfortable as you crossed your arms over your chest, teetering on the balls of your feet.

“Never seen a pregnant woman before?” you asked, breaking him out of his shock.

“No I have… I was just surprised. Congratulations,” he recovered trying to keep his voice low.

“Thanks. It’s been a long few weeks so far and I’ve been staying in the office and was supposed to until August but this was a big bust so I came out to help Gordon,” you explained.

“You shouldn’t be out this late,” he couldn’t help but say, feeling overprotective for a moment, eyes looking around for any danger.

“Well now I have you to keep us safe,” you grinned. Your words were like a crack of lightning, igniting his body with feelings he’d never had before.

“The father anyone I would know?” he blurted out, cringing internally at his wording. You let out a nervous chuckle, not at all insulted by his words, as you rubbed your bump absentmindedly.

“There’s only one guy in the whole world who could be the father but he…he’s not really in the picture,” you sighed sadly. Bruce felt his chest tighten uncomfortably at your words, eyes not leaving your swollen bump. Yes it all lined up, your due date with the night you had come over for that late night interview.

“Have you tried reaching out?” he asked quietly and you swore his voice sounded familiar for a moment.

“Once. But his secretary kind of kicked me out,” you shook your head. Bruce felt a surge of anger at this, damn that new secretary, damn her and her meddling.

“I tried other ways but he’s kind of a recluse. No worries though, I’m moving to be closer to family,” you spoke softly and Bruce’s heart stopped.

“You’re leaving Gotham?” he asked, stepping forward closer to you.

“I have a few friends and a cousin here but I would appreciate the support from my parents and sisters. They live two hours away and I’ve already talked to Gordon. He’s sad to see me go but agreed it’s best,” you explained. I’ll be sad to see you go, no I’d be devastated, Bruce thought. Before he could respond someone called your name, so with an apologetic smile you gave him a goodbye wave before walking off. He didn’t even bother to stay to investigate; he went straight back home to think of his next steps.

A few nights later you were dozing off on the couch, a cheesy romcom on the TV when a soft knock awoke you. Sighing you tried to ignore it but it persisted.

“Coming!” you called out as you put on your slippers before waddling to the door. So sleepy you hadn’t bothered to check the peephole so it was safe to say you almost peed your pants when you saw who was waiting on the other side.

“Bruce,” you squeaked, half hiding behind the door in your disheveled state.

“(Y/N),” he replied calmly but under his shirt his heart was pounding and his hands began to sweat.

“Uh- how can I help you?” you choked out, trying your best to remain calm.

“I think it's best if I come inside so we can talk,” he said. Nodding, you opened the door and let him in, watching silently as he kicked off his shoes before looking to you for guidance.

“Please, sit,” you said, moving towards the couch. None of you said a thing for a few moments as you tried to get comfortable. Finally he turned to look at you, eyes now on your very pregnant belly and it was crystal clear why he was here.

“I had heard that you were pregnant. I wouldn’t presume to say I have a right to your personal life or information or anything like that but I wanted to respect you by coming to you directly,” he spoke softly.

“Of course, I understand,” you nodded, urging him to continue. Bruce took a deep breath, twiddling his hands in his lap as if trying to gain the confidence to ask the question you both knew was coming.

“I just have to know- is the baby mine? ” he asked in such a broken voice it made tears fill your eyes as you nodded, looking down at your hands to avoid bursting into tears.

“I- I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen! I was on birth control and I know you might not believe me and would need a DNA test-,” you began to ramble.

“No. I trust you,” he interrupted. Looking up in surprise you were shocked by the sincerity in which he said those words, your eyebrows crinkling as he scooted closer to you.

“I need to tell you something, it’s going to be shocking but I trust you and it needs to be said before this goes forward,” Bruce said seriously. Taking his trembling hand into yours you squeezed it reassuringly.

“I'm Batman,” he admitted softly, and your blood ran cold. “It’s only right for you to know since I want to be involved in your life and the baby’s. I wouldn’t lie to you,” he said. Your mouth fell open as you shifted on the couch to accommodate your bump as you took in the news. The baby seemed to jump in your stomach in reaction to your shock. Bruce noticed the way your stomach trembled and he fought the urge to run his hands over it.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I’d be willing to take some time off. To give us time to get to know one another and focus on what's best for the baby,” he continued.

“Batman gets paternity leave,” was what you found yourself saying and Bruce let out a light laugh at this.

“Yeah something like that,” he smiled softly.

“Thank you for telling me Bruce. It means a lot that you’ve decided to trust me like this. I agree we need time to figure things out, to see the best way to co-parent,” you said, still not letting go of his hand.

“I know it's a lot to take in right now but now that you know who I am I’d feel safer having you close to me. If it's something you’re open to, I hope you could come live with me,” he said. It was a lot to take in in the span of a few minutes, Bruce Wayne your night one stand also being Batman who you had been harboring a crush on for months now asking you to move into Wayne Tower. But as the seconds went on, your heart calmed down as Bruce and Batman blended into one person in front of you. Holding his hand you felt safe and at peace.

“If you’ll have us,” you smiled, taking his hand and placing it on your bump. Seeing his face light up as the baby kicked was to become one of your fondest memories. Yes, this was not at all what you had planned for your life and there would be a lot to work through on both sides but in that moment you knew, you loved Bruce Wayne.

[solisnumen]

Goes over and catches Tamamo sitting with a book in her lap, he moves over with quiet steps and gently lets his fingers sweep at her hair before he feels the soft skin of her neck. Urging her chin up, he leans down to sweep over his lips against her own, a faint smile curling his lips, "Morning to you as well Jannu," (sweetheart), "Can I presume you're free to humor a most humble request to spending an evening with me?"

@kiritii 

The book and the plot of that piece of literature were completely forgotten upon his smooth actions. His lips always tasted like heavens above: hot, soft, addictive. She was not a good person nor was she someone who would not use that against him someday or remind him of a payment he deserves for making her heart skip a beat. Tamamo-no-Mae was once was a destructive monster, a killing machine who was only created to be a beneficial avatar for someone who couldn’t even find a suitable host among humans due to her sheer excellence and strength of the universal level. However, that still remained a mystery. 

“Mhmm, Arjuna-san,” she spoke up sweetly at him, a smile immediately appearing to prove her maiden’s happiness. The Fox couldn’t help but feel how emotions within her were dancing like butterflies, lifting her spirits and making her completely forget about this book on her lap. Mae wanted to taste his lips over and over again, he was addicting and she didn’t mind that at all. She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want this warmth to disappear. Her possessiveness was talking louder than anything else here, but her love was just as strong as that feeling. 

His proposal was something she could never say no to. It was the sweetest reward for her. It was the spoiled riches that she couldn’t refuse. After all, she was a greedy woman. She’d take everything, anything, all of it to make herself feel good. Not as selfish as it sounds like, but close to it. Tamamo wanted to make the other happy as well. If they would smile, she’d be the happiest woman ever. Her happiness plus her lover’s happiness? Totally the perfect dream! 

“How can I say no, 私の恋人?”  Humble as always, gentle-man like behavior that drove her crazy. When will he drown in passion just like she wanted him to? This careful nature was both igniting her but also making her scream internally. She loved it. She adored these games they were playing. Tamamo giggled as she continued.  “I’d be honored to join you during the evening, Arjuna-san. You know it perfectly well.”