Hi,🚨

boomshakalaka yes gawd

savior | jason todd

Summary: Red Hood is the stuff of nightmares. Red Hood is no hero. Red Hood is your best friend.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: angsttt, reader is afraid of red hood and they discover that he's jason, injured and kidnapped reader, emotional hurt no comfort.

A/N: hey guys! i didn't know what the hell to write so. this is what i came up with. hope ya like it :) if you like this fic, lmk through comments and reblogs!

the divider

“You fucked up!”

You wince at the shouting and the ringing in your ears. You try to sit up but that makes things hurt, so you lie still and listen. 

"What? You said pick a civilian!”

"I don't give a fuck what I said; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag.

Batman? Batman isn't coming?

No, that can't be. Batman knows everything that happens in his city. He wouldn't abandon a civilian in need.

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead. Jason's probably tearing his hair out if he's home from work. He always stresses safety, to the point of paranoia.

Lock your doors. Don't walk down this street. Did you get home okay? Text me when you get home.

You hope Batman's out there, somewhere. Or any of the Bats. You don't want to die. You really, really don't want to die.

Thump!

Something hits the ground. There's a shout.

“You fucking shitheads! You were supposed to check the—”

Gunfire erupts suddenly, and you tuck your head between your knees as best as you can, with your hands and ankles bound.

Thump! Thump!

More bodies hit the ground. But Batman doesn't do guns.

"What the fuck is this?" comes a distorted voice. 

Your blood chills.

"H-Hood!” one of the kidnappers squeaks. “Sh-shit. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Protecting Gotham,” Hood says. “What’re you doing, McKelly? Thought you were on the straight and narrow. Thought the Bats taught you what happens to people who lose their way. Did the lesson not stick?”

“It’s not what it looks like, Hood! We just needed some extra cash and Black Mask—I swear, we weren’t gonna do anything to—”

“Was it worth it? He’s got my attention now.”

“It was meant to draw out Batman! Not you, honest! Aw, Hood, please. I’ll be good after this, I swear!”

“You assholes just don’t learn your lesson, do you?”

He turns and locks in on you. You freeze, tensing up.

“You hurt them," he says, voice like steel. "You hurt them. And you would've hurt them more, wouldn't you?"

“Hood—”

"I’ll kill you all.”

He shoots McKelly in the chest. You scream through the gag. Red Hood looks at you, and it seems to rekindle his anger tenfold.

He shoots the two remaining guys in the head. McKelly writhes, screaming. You shut your eyes and turn away from the bloodshed, stomach rolling. The crunch of bone and muscle makes you sick.

"Hood, please! This ain’t your s—”

The next shot silences the room. Your heart rate skyrockets; is this a rescue or a massacre?

As the footsteps get closer, you press yourself into the wall and quiver. Red Hood is terrifying. He's merciless, bloodthirsty. You know the stories. You don't even know why he's here in the first place. This isn't his territory; you live far from Crime Alley. What is he doing all the way out here?

You peek one eye open. Red Hood freezes. He's about two feet away from you. His jacket and helmet are splattered with dark blood. Tears prick your eyes.

"Hey," he says roughly, like he’s not fully present. "’S okay. Y’alright?” 

You nod rapidly. In reality, your ankle throbs, you might be concussed, and you’re sick with fear. And you don't want Red Hood anywhere near you.

"Okay. I'm gonna remove the gag."

You can't really protest; Red Hood's a big guy, and he has a lot of weapons on his body. All you can hope is that he won't decide to pick up where your kidnapper left off.

He removes the gag. Then he pulls out a blade. 

"Please don't hurt me," you say.

Red Hood stills. His voice is thick when he speaks again. The modulator doesn't soften his words. 

"I would—I would never hurt you. I don't hurt innocents. I... I came here to save you.”

It still doesn’t make sense in your mind, Red Hood being so far from the Bowery. You press your cracked lips together. You don't want to throw up. If you throw up in front of Hood, he might change his mind about saving you. 

“Hey,” he says. “It’s alright. I’m gonna remove the zip ties now, okay?”

You don't have a choice, so you watch the blade whisper past your skin. It would be so easy for Hood to cut more than the restraints. It's all you can think about, frankly.

He makes quick work of the binds. His hand lingers on your wrist. There’s blood on his sleeve. Your heart pounds in your chest.

He finally lets go and you pull away, scooting to the side. That puts pressure on your ankle, though, and you can't hide your wince.

"Your ankle," he says. "Let me see.”

You shake your head. "No, I'm f-fine. I just want to go home. It'll heal.”

Hood seems to make a decision then. He reaches for his helmet. It clicks and he pulls it off.

No. No, it can’t be. It can’t.

“Hey,” Jason says, smiling a little. “‘S just me. Just Jay. You’re safe.”

Your eyes dart between Jason and the bodies. This time, you can’t swallow your nausea; you throw up. There’s tears in your eyes. Your face is hot and sweaty. 

“You–you killed them,” you whisper. 

Jason’s smile fades. “They hurt you. I… I saved you. It’s okay. ‘S just me.”

You clench your hands, willing them to stop shaking. He watches you for a long moment. Then he puts his hand out. You flinch. 

Silence stretches. Then Hood—Jason speaks.

"You're scared of me.”

You shake your head. "Please, I just want to go home—”

"You want Batman instead?" He sounds choked. “You want Batman to come save you? Or Nightwing? Or Robin? You want a good guy?” 

This feels like a trap. You know better than to fall into it. This is the Red Hood.

"No! No, I-I don't have any problem with you, Hood, really, I'm just—"

“It’s Jason!” he shouts. “You’ve known me for three years! Jason! You know me!”

The night is catching up to you; tears begin to spill from how overwhelmed you are. You wipe at your cheeks quickly, trying to calm down, but it's too much.

Jason creeps forward like he wants to touch you. You press against the wall without thinking about it.

“Fuck, you’re—you’re terrified of me,” he rasps. “You think I’m a monster.”

Your panic has reached a peak now; you lose track of time and space, hyperventilating through your cries. Jason shoves himself backwards, tearing a hand through his hair.

“I’m good, I’m a good guy. You know me, you know me. I would never hurt you!”

You could've died tonight. The Red Hood is Jason. The Red Hood is no hero.

You don’t look at him, curled up and cradling your ankle. You’re afraid you’ll get sick again if you open your eyes.

Then someone's hand holds your shoulder. You flinch hard, expecting cold, glowing eyes in a red helmet.

Instead, you see white lenses. Nightwing smiles sadly at you, squatting to your level.

"Hey, there," he says. “I’m—”

"Hood’s here," you blurt. "Watch your back."

Nightwing glances behind him; Jason is across the warehouse, as much distance between you as possible. He has his knees to his chest. The corpses lie between you. Your eyes widen and you turn into Nightwing’s shoulder. He rubs your back.

"It’s okay. I know him. He works with us a lot these days."

“I would never hurt you,” Jason says quietly, voice cracking. “Never.” He doesn’t try to approach you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Please don't make me go with him,” you whisper. “Please, please…”

It hurts to breathe. Nightwing puts your hand on his chest and tells you to follow his breathing. It lasts a lifetime, it seems: Nightwing crouched to your level, exaggerating his breaths until you're no longer gasping for air. 

"Alright, it's alright. I'll take you home," he says. "It's okay. You're safe. I won’t make you go with him.”

Nightwing helps you stand, and when you stumble through your injured ankle, he catches you, bracing you with his arm around your back.

"Let's wrap your ankle first, okay?”

Nightwing guides you to a lone chair so he can tend to your injury. When you look up again, the Red Hood is gone.

no pain, no gain, right?

"is this all a game, or are they all secretly masochists?!"

nah, imaging being kidnapped by the batfam, neglected or not, romantic or platonic, and being expected to treat your abduction as merely normal, to love them like you've known them for your entire life rather than strangers who randomly decided that you're the object of affection they'd focus on their attention on one day—

do they honestly think you'd fall for their honeyed words? of course not! you're fucking trapped with both men and women alike with physical capabilities enough to trap you in a headlock or in a bear hug. they could kill you with a damn finger jabbed into your neck. is that not a valid enough reason for you to try and constantly fight them?

if you're a person bound on the feistier side, the first course of action you'd commit on, say, dick who's known to be the most physically affectionate, the neediest of them all - who's constantly kissing you, playing with your hair and laying his head on your chest - would be your nails digging deep into his skin and dragging it along his back, or trying to throw a punch into tim's face when you feel he's been staring into you rather than at you far too deeply for your liking, watching the blood drip down his nose like a faucet right after, as long as it means his eyes would leave your body for just a damn second.

whatever they're doing, even if they're always assuring you that they're doing this out of love, out of protection, out of their deep-seated paranoia that out there, you're not safe, you won't survive; their actions are all done for you — yet they'll always be met with you threatening to bite or chew their faces off. they're not your damn family, or lovers, or whatever fantasies they think they could reenact with you, and they know damn well that you won't be giving up soon, not at all—!

yet you don't know that behind your fiery side are those willing to let the fire burn much longer, those who throw more logs and gasoline into the ever-burning pit of rage and spite that crackles at your heart.

jason trying to trap you into his muscly arms only warrants your fight-or-flight instincts, akin to a gothamite walking past the crime alley, kicking and scratching at the man just wishing for a day of comfort as he sighs and nuzzles his head into the crown of your hair, breathing deeply to take in your scent, as if you're not currently pulling his hair out. he'll let you bite on his hard neck, or kick at the fat of thighs or even his crotch with no reaction other than tightening his already caged grip on your body.

a body much frailer compared to everybody else's. a mere gazelle to a lion ready to be chased anytime soon.

bruce placing a hand behind your back will only result in you digging deeply into his forearms, wide eyes and heaving breaths that reflects not only utter fear but a thinly-veiled threat of another session of attempting to uppercut him, like you're some wild prey ready to make a run if he dares push the boundaries you settled for. yet all he does is try his best to warmly smile at you without any weariness, not even any vigilance of your future actions, and most especially not fear.

how long are you going to fight them? why are even you doing this? to soften the blow? to make them wish they regret even taking you away from the first place? or do you wish for them to feel a semblance of fear you felt whenever their toned arms surprised you from when they appeared before a shadow? do they not know just how deeply terrified you are of them, that you're doing all this because you're afraid of their strength?

except, what you expected never came. you would've been fine with them punishing you, slowly losing their inhibitions, snarling at you every damn time you snap, becoming tired of your antics and threatening to throw you out, even mocking you for your weakness; anything...!

but not whatever this is.

not the stupidly gentle smiles, or the droopy eyes that look as if they've fallen in love even more at just how much droplets of blood you were able to procure with another set of scratches against jason's forearms. not the astounded whistles at another bruise you managed to punch into steph's shoulders after a momentary lapse of shock from another one of her back hugs— as of this were some all sick form of therapy. you know they're taking your daily fights seriously, you know it because they always take note of it by staring at each other every time you manage to injure them! but fuck, why are they just letting you do as you will?

since when have your nails been longer, sharper even?

why is jason just... staring at you, his gaze proud and mighty, not out of his attempts at mocking you but looking genuinely so gratified. there's rivulets of crimson dripping down his neck all the way to the clavicle until it reaches his upper pecs, multiple indents of scars already faded, now overlayed with fresher, even deeper ones; displayed like a museum artifact by his loose tee. his fingers, shaky and equally scarred, moved to run over the inflicted injuries, touching and pressing deep, as it just as quickly finds its way to his mouth, lapping at the blood, his eyes never leaving your equally shivering form; dread and disgust curling into your very being.

he takes deep breaths after lapping his fingers clean, his fists are curled together like yours; except your nails are stained with blood, jason's, a stench that curdles deep into your nostrils. and for a second you feel something scarier than fear, an immeasurable pit of doom that looms over your back. for a second, you thought this would be the last time you'll ever see the light again. just as quickly as you scratched him, you try to retort with an excuse.

"jason, i'm- i'm so sorry i didn't mean to—!"

"we get it now, angel...

this is your way of coping, right? it's all good, do as much damage as you could 's long as you get it all out of your system, 'kay?

and thanks, by the way. this one's even better than the one you gave me just earlier."

what does he mean? what's even better...? you just- you just gave it your all trying to engrave your sharp nails into already scarred skin; why is he talking to you as if he's congratulating you rather than scolding you?

no, no, no... he shouldn't be all like this... why is everybody staying silent all throughout? why do your ears wring, every sound mapped around the house turned into one singular sound? this shouldn't be happening, no! he should be mad, should be punching you, bruce should've broken you both up the moment he noticed your hands make a way for jason's neck— yet since when did anybody try to interrupt?! the only damn time, god... the only time they ever do is when you try to inflict injuries on yourself, but never on others... just why?

there's sudden clapping that distracts you from your thoughts, from dick's or duke, you don't know? one of them is saying something and you can't comprehend it other than one-liners and muffled, incomprehensible words.

"—'m jealous of you," that's duke's voice! what else is he saying? why is he envious? of what exactly? the fear doesn't settle down unlike all the other times, there's tears that began brimming on your eyes and you still stand in the middle of the living room, the chandelier's light basking you in its ethereal glow, yet you feel the opposite. you're no angel as what's jason called you, and the people surrounding you are more like demons than anything else; witnessing your fall from grace, taking you away from your home whilst having the audacity applauding your presence as if you've fucking graced them.

and then steph coos, your head snaps to the direction of her grating "awe's!". you're convinced she's looking at jason like he's been vindicated for some crime, eyes you never knew could hold so much anger and spite. you don't know why she does, you don't understand the hidden implications of her next words, you can only watch from a distance.

"that should've been me, y'know! that's so unfair of you!" her seething voice and hardened glare at the man subsided into your thoughts; who wishes to be hurt? who even wants to be the victim of your feisty glares and venomous insults? you know they don't like it when you stare at them with burning hatred— but why do they enjoy it when you physically scar them instead? when you punch at their noses and watch as the blood stains their clothes evidently?

and yet it only registered within your mind just now: how they never seem to patch up any of the marks you imprint on their body. it's only now that you realize that they always bare it right in front of everybody, some even wearing looser clothes that give others a peek of their skin in the more intimate places you've marked. there's bandages from when they go home after every patrol, there's casts that they wear after suffering through broken bones and dislocated limbs from the criminals they fight every night— but never with you, not even a gauze from when you've cut all too keenly into damian's cheeks, a deep gash that he's sported proudly throughout the following months with everyone else seething, even bruce seems envious of his own son.

"well, it's not my fault you didn't try hard enough, blondie. right, angel? guess they love me even more than you," his sultry words pierced through your mind, and for just a second, he was already at your side, hands weighing on your shoulder whilst his head makes its way to the crown of your head, leaning down to give you a lingering kiss on your forehead. he releases an airy laugh at the complaints that come after. and for a second, your claws were ready to retaliate from mere instinct, at how he dares treat the entire situation like a bragging right; but unlike last time, you try to hold back, shoulders sagging as you try to blink out the tears running down your eyes; all right after discovering their... sick fetishes.

fetishes you didn't know run deeper than just that. you don't even know of the competition they hold every night right after they put you to sleep, counting each and every scar, every pull of the hair, every bloodied nose, bruised eyes, scratched skin, cuts inflicted from knives and other sharp objects laying around, your very own murder attempts at your abductors; all tallied and inputted into barbara's coded system that tracks and points each and every injury. you don't know just how much they cherish these marks you left in their body, like medals dangling off their parts that showcase their dedication, their patience never dwindling at achieving your trust— bruce once said it was an unhealthy habit of yours, but dick retaliates, saying it's the only way they could get closer to you.

it's the only time that you willingly touch them, even if it's with animosity, with passion and hope that someday you'd maim them just hard enough to escape.

"don't even think tonight's over yet, todd. you all simply haven't seen what they've done to me just yet," now it's damian who butts in, with emerald eyes gleaming with emotions you're still unable to detangle. yet now there's hints of rage, a face that says he's ready to compete with what jason has to offer now, hands caressing the cloth he wears that hides an injury enough to compete with the pain you've inflicted upon jason, an injury you're far too familiar with.

he's the youngest, and sometimes, you feel the most fear trying to discern why he's too possessive of your time, of your space and your presence, all whilst sporting a glare that never seems to lighten. but nothing ever changed the fact that he's the one who pushes all your buttons the most, he's the one with the cruelest words and sickening intentions, enough for you to treat him the foulest you ever could; with murder the only product in your mind every time he tries to even come closer to you.

and his words right now made you realize just how deeply you fucked up, and just how equally as fucked up your abductors truly are...

after all, you did just bite him earlier, in the space between his neck and shoulders from when he attempted to lick at your neck, making sure your teeth grates at his skin and nearly rips at flesh; to the point where the taste of blood that filled your mouth still lingers even until now.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: art by yuto sano. written in 30 minutes sheesh. you know what's scarier than your kidnappers retaliating against you whenever you try to attack them? them taking it all in stride instead. the delusional belief that it's your own expressive way of getting used to their presence— even going as far as turning it into some sort of competition on who gets to have the most scars by the end of the day. i think that's absolutely more insane than just punishing you, and please tell me i was at least able to portray the feeling of doom well with this. i also hope this isn't too ooc. guys, pls pls pls tell me what you think of this, did this cook or what? interaction's been low lately and i've been feeling demotivated to write so uhm... also, if anyone wants me to write the difference between the romantic or platonic implications of masochist/sub batfam, just tell me and i will!

this is inspired by @on-leatheredwings post about masochist tim drake. she's literally the reason why i read the entire red robin comic run and was obsessed with him for like a long period of time because of her banger portrayal of him. and it's also inspired by @sleepingdiaryzzz's recent post, her writing is really immaculate and well thought out unlike mine LMAO and she's a tad bit underrated so you guys definitely should check her out! this post is also dedicated to @neerathebrightstar, thank u for being my coolest supporter ever.

Universe of amfstargirl⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"life's better on saturn" _sza

⋆. Tip toes yandere batfam x neglected reader

In which you stand in your tallest tiptoes, spinning in your highest heels, shining just for them.

00 we ain't angry at you love

01 the cut that always bleed

02 half return

03 stuck here like me

⋆.related topics:

°is the reader unattractive

°how old is the reader

°details in half return

°yandere alfred

°Tim and you having the same age

°rapunzel reader

°Cassandra's character

°chapter 3 slight details

"Venus planet of love"_mitski

⋆.ೃ jason todd x reader

°crawling back to you

In which jason todd will always come crawling back to you.

Hello dears! My name is Mahmoud Hilles, I am asking you to support my campaign to help me achieve my goal. I am in dire need of your support now to help my family rescue them from the besieged and destroyed Gaza Strip. Gaza is a very dangerous place. I need your financial support to enable me to get the basic needs for my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help the family survive their ordeal through your small donations or by sharing my campaign with your friends and others or by praying for us. Thank you so much for standing by those in need.

Support them!!

(sfw/nsfw) Subspace!BLLK :: x femdom!Reader

anon thank you for the request! I've got a little too much albuterol in me to focus super clearly so I hope some headcanons will suffice for now ♡ - askbox open cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, aged up, DARK CONTENT; physiological/psychological sub space(s), bdsm dynamics word count: sloppy headcanons character(s): Nagi Seishiro, Hyoma Chigiri, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi

DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs

PHYSIOLOGICAL + PSYCHOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Almost exclusive to spanking but calling you mommy gets the job done too!

absolutely grew up disconnected from any parental figure so the moment he finds out what a mommy kink is, Nagi is enthralled

straight up starts calling you mommy in private and public

scenes with him are very structured and he obeys mommy extremely well

craves structure even if that means punishments along with them

spanking with the addition of calling you mommy during a scene is absolutely when he can enter his subspace

make choices for him, decide what's pleasure for him, don't make Nagi think of utterly anything and his body is yours

impossible to overstimulate when he's in his subspace while being incredibly sensitive over every inch of his body

but he is incredibly limp when he's this vulnerable so your positions are...limited

adores the confines of mommy's pussy if you're riding him and praising him after a good spanking and his bum is warm with the marks you left

or being folded in half, all six four of him, while you peg him and tell him how many more orgasms he'll give you bc he's a good boy

either way you decide bc Nagi checks out in the best ways the second his subspace hits with you

PSYCHOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: He gets in his head about his own body!

he knows his weak spot and sometimes Chigiri obsessives over his weakness

that's where you come in

the first time was an explosively pleasant surprise during a particularly heated session that Chigiri kept insisting you keep going and that's when he accidentally slipped into that euphoric floaty bliss

then by back tracking when Chigiri realized he could slip just right into that perfect subspace when he's at his worst by how you made him feel

absolutely needs that connection and your guidance to let him let go and find his bliss

coax him thru words, praise and gentle touches over every inch of him working your way to touching his thighs and his legs

he will loose it the second you touch his legs while you're pegging him

acts a total whore and lets you use any part of him you want

very suggestible and very ready to please

his body becomes your gummy toy to do whatever you want with bc Chigiri trusts you with his most weakest spots

PHYSIOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Pain! Push the limits each scene!

a living breathing monster that lives to push the limits of what both of you can do!

Bachira experiencing subspace comes almost accidentally after an experiment with a leather crop turns extra exciting

make it more than just pain though he needs to be limited in what he does or how he can move - revoke his freedom and his subspace follows

preferable, strapped to do a chair if he has any say in it

pay extra attention to his thighs to break him sooner than later for each scene

and that goes for his cock as well Bachira gets off quiet well to the slap of the leather against his thigh or simply across his cock as well

trusts you to know his limit during the scene and bc of that subspace isn't always achieved

when it is though Bachira turns simply into a sex starved whore

exceptionally loves to have his mouth used when he's floating in his subspace

ride his face and suffocate him in your fun if you must the pain of no air to his lungs is ecstasys inducing

or fuck his throat with your strap telling him to wet it for you to fuck him with and he'll slobber all over the silicone like he's trying to suck a load from it

and when it comes to pegging him, you might as well let Bachi ride you bc your hips will give out before his subspace does if he earns the right of your strap in him

PHYSIOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Making him feel so much sends him adrift in his subspace!

break his calm exterior with leather and chains

emphasis on restriction of what he can do forces Sae into the comfortability of his subspace as his body realizes faster than his mind that he can't be in control

fond of both your hands as well as flogs and crops this man's body begs to be painted in red marks until he's agreed to obey

scenes with this man include breaking his spirit as a right of passage to his subspace

first time he responds to you with a "yes ma'am" means you're on the right track

fueled by pain Sae loves the feeling of loosing control of his body as it reacts to what you inflict onto him and not by what he's telling himself to do

total control on the soccer field leads to utter helplessness in the bedroom

his torso and thighs are where it's at!

the broadest parts of him where you can make the sharpest stings with your palm or a favored toy

he loves leather

eliciting different reactions from his body though in ways he couldn't think of also help this man slip into his subspace

temperature play integrated with some light slapping will have him obeying you while he is unable to talk back

Sae is extra willing to please you after his body is marked up by you in the most devilish of ways

PSYCHOLOGICAL SUBSPACE :: Overwhelming emotions gush over to his subspace!

will almost always ask for a scene in which he can slip into subspace if he's lost a game, hard a bad practice or any interaction with his brother

so...often

triggered by words; such as cooing, praise and being referred to as "mommy's baby" will instantly set Rin on the track for his subspace

touching can help speed the process along but Rin tends to take these moments as a way to decompress and let go as well

overwhelming praise brings out that passive floaty personality of his while you get the pleasure of disrobing him and peppering his body in delicate attention

skin to skin! skin to skin!

Rin wants you as naked as he is so he can mash every inch of his body into yours like he needs to crawl into you to survive

when his emotions are this raw overstimulating him is so easy and a must

every form of pleasure is welcomed from you riding him while he nurses and clutches you...to pinning him under you and fucking him until he's nonverbal...Rin expects the full spectrum if he trusts you enough to find his subspace

his subspace can be longer if you peg him and refuse his orgasms

body super eager to please once he's slipped into his subspace under you; he can't say no to you like this so tender care of every inch of him until he's overflowing is a must to assure a successful scene

Yn: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up!

Yn: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!

Batfamília: 🤨

Bruce: There's no more salvation

AAHHHHHH HAPPPY BIRTHDAY AAAAAAAAAA🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

THANK YEWWWW

Being the bane of sukunas existence as you're his girlfriend because you act like a perverted old man around him... he kinda digs it tho, its mildly hilarious and he doesn't dislike the unhinged attention (he tries to be so lowkey about it)

Every once in a while, you'll caress his behind or fondle his big boobily man breasts, the same way he does to you. he was only stunned at first - now he is completely unphased by your sneaky little hands.

he texts you, asking you what you want for dinner, and he's not surprised when the answer is "i want you oiled up and naked in bed by the time i get home". then he just replies with "making pasta"

Big obnoxious smacking noises when you kiss him all over, and sukuna just lets you be, he'll be sitting on the couch turning the tv on and here you come, smooching his cheek. sometimes, its the top of his head, other times, its his forehead or neck. if you do it too much though, you'll get covered with his bite marks in return.

when sukuna gets up to go to the toilet, you ask him if you can hold his peepee while he takes a piss, bc you saw a funny tiktok talking about it... he gives you a silent judgmental stare as he closes the door on your face. but behind it, he lets out the tiniest snort and shakes his head bc the idea of it is so ridiculous.

one time when you go outdoor camping with him you genuinely accidentally stumble close to sukuna who is taking a leak in the forest bush area and he catches you staring from behind as he's buttoning himself back up. and then he's chasing you down while you're screaming that it was an accident and that you only heard him peeing and didn't actually see anything. (not that you don't know what it looks like, anyway.)

when he's sweaty after a workout or some physical exertion, you'll definitely be approaching him deviously, talking about some "covered in flavour" type of bullshit... he'll push your face away and head into the shower but his ears are flushed with red.

just... sukuna who will let u mack on him endlessly bc he secretly doesn't hate the doting 🥹🥹🥹 and if you're not being obnoxiously lewd or affectionate?? thats when he knows something's up...

and obviously, every now and then you'll say something that makes him know that you're not just lusting over his body.

during a walk back home on a summer afternoon, you point upwards while holding his hand and looking up.

"sukuna, look. you're in the sky."

he reluctantly looks up, expecting some sort of dick shaped cloud or something like that. but there are no clouds in sight.

"what is there to look at?" he asks, quizzically.

"the colour, silly. when the sun's still setting, the sky always gets like this, around the same time everyday. the pretty pinkish colour, like your hair."

he turns silent and observes the sky for a minute. you call him silly, as if it's an everyday thing that you compare a person with the literal sky.

"it's my favourite time of the day..." you mumble, just barely audible to his ears. and something about the way you stand there, and speak so softly, makes you look so pretty to him. "i'll always think of you when the sun is setting."

"oh- but i think of you everyday regardless, i suppose."

he already knows that. he already knows you love him. why does he feel so flushed right now?

"alright, i get it. enough. let's continue home," he urges you, holding your hand tighter. you follow him down the street, like a puppy.

life couldn't feel more at peace right now, with your fingers interlocked with his, listening to you hum your favourite song on the way home, the street now covered with the orange light of the sunset.

"any ideas for dinner?" he asks, a few minutes after some silence.

"mmm..."

oh, he regrets asking the question now, fully knowing what's coming.

"i want your tatas in my mouth, please."

"tatas?" sukuna's asks with furrowed brows.

after bursting into laughter at the way he said it, you attempt to think up an actual food you want for dinner.

"...just for tonight." sukuna mutters.

"huh?"

"don't ask me again, i might change my mind."

"wait- really?"

let's just say, your mouth had a taste of heaven for the first time that night.