#related and others are just me dicking around
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tozettastone · 2 days ago
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"That other unnamed Grimmjow/Ichigo (Bleach) fic," is actually a fic in which I skimmed so many of the omegaverse fics (which, can confirm, I still don't enjoy) and a bunch of the mating cycles/in heat fics and decided I too could write about the hollow urge to bone.
It's a fic about how Ichigo experiences a fairly minor change in his libido relating to the awakening of his inner hollow and, because he is a teenager, responds like the world is ending.
My draft is a draft and subject to change, but this is the vibe:
"Like a cow?" is the first thing Ichigo thinks to say, puffed up in indignation. It's not Ichigo's fault, really. He remembers, very vaguely, a life sciences class from when he was fifteen. Everyone picked an animal about which to research the life cycle. Ichigo, naturally, had been late — important shinigami business, naturally — and the only approved animal left had been domestic cattle. That was the last time he heard the word "oestrus." It has been living on the back shelf of his brain ever since. It's definitely not a term he expects to hear used about himself! Urahara blinks at him from over his fan. He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "Not... exactly," he says. Ichigo gets the sense that he has, for once, surprised him. "Many mammals experience oestrus cycles, Kurosaki-kun. Humans are actually in the minori—" "Urahara-san... Is this some kind of bad joke?" Ichigo can't imagine otherwise, but he also can't figure out why this is the joke Urahara is telling. His sense of humour usually runs high to pervy shit, but it's usually aimed at pretty young girls, not... "You're telling me everyone with an inner hollow is going around in — in season?" Like a farm animal? "Ah. No." Urahara tilts his head so that the shine of one eye peeks out from under the shadow of his hat. "This kind of thing... it's hollow biology. It's not something that affects vizards. I've never seen it on paper before and I've never studied its effects." "If it doesn't happen to vizards, why would it happen to me?" Ichigo demands. Urahara tucks one hand behind his head and titters an obnoxious little laugh, because he's clearly not taking this anywhere near as seriously as Ichigo wishes he would. "You're unique! It's hard to predict these things with your hybrid biology, you know. But as far as I know, there's no reason to suspect it will make you do anything you don't already want to. You'll probably find yourself shorter tempered and more restless, and what you want in a partner may change for the duration." His smile gets a smidge wider. "This is a confusing time of any young man's life, Kurosaki-kun, but you shouldn't worry if you have any... new urges." New urges. New urges. Like he's twelve and just discovering his dick can get hard at inopportune times? He surfaces from his mortification for long enough to scrunch up his face. "That doesn't make any sense," Ichigo protests. "I can't be... doing that. For one, I'm a man." Urahara snaps his fan open just to use it to gesture dramatically, like if he pulls off a flashy enough act Ichigo will somehow resist the temptation to smack him in the face with it. Ichigo will not resist that temptation. "Ah, but these measurements suggest otherwise, Kurosaki-kun. It's not really dependent on sex for hollows, either... they don't reproduce sexually. Besides! Who knows, perhaps there's a lonely hollow love out there just waiting for you to imprint on he — Oof! Ouch!" Ichigo tosses the lightly bloodied fan onto the desk, turns on his heel and stalks towards the shop's entrance. Chad blinks up from his intense staring competition with Jinta, but whatever he sees in Ichigo's face is enough to prevent him from following him. "Aya... my own fan," sighs Urahara behind him. Then he raises his voice, so that what follows Ichigo out into the rainy Kurakara afternoon is: "It's important to keep an open mind, Kurosaki!" "Pass!" Ichigo bellows back.
Anyway I'm going to ruin his life. For fun! :)
Okay, here's what's going on right now:
I was going to name the Ishida/Szayel (Bleach) fic "The Way To The Top" but despite the subject matter it has turned out way less comedic than I thought it would be, so I may have to rename it. Regardless, it's currently 18,000 words long and still somehow going.
The latest Maddieverse fic (Naruto) is "Where The Heart Is" and it's currently 22,000 words long. I am more or less still following the outline and have not run into any sudden debilitating snags. It continues.
That other unnamed Grimmjow/Ichigo (Bleach) fic is 3,000 words long so far. It's intended to be a one shot, but it feels like it's only about 30% done. I don't think I signed up for a 10k word fic but what the hell do I know.
I've also written 2,500 words of a prompt fic in which Maddie meets Sakura but I haven't ended it properly yet. But that also exists, I guess?
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artvann · 1 year ago
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100 days of doodles are done! I started this to pass the time till I got to see Voltaire, and that will be tomorrow!!
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hood-ex · 1 year ago
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No because I'm mad at DC for covering up our dysfunctional family rep.
Don't give me this:
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Nightwing (Vol. 4) #100
Give me this:
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JLA #75
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JLA #76
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scholar-of-yemdresh · 2 months ago
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r/fantasy recommend books other than by the same 7 cis white guys challenge: level herculean.
It's genuinely disgusting to me how myopic their recommendations are. No wonder we keep getting posts asking for books with good female characters or POC or Queers because the image of fantasy you project is cishet dude mantasy slop where women are rape doll incubators(the more underaged the more "realistic") and poc/queers are more mythical than dragons.
I swear to God if I see one more neckbread bleating about The First Song Of Wheel Storm Name Winds Law by T.R.M McWhiteman I'll b*mb an orphanage.
Seriously if the only "zomg must read most epicest bestest fantasy everrrr!!!" Are ALL the SAME cis white men, your reading tastes are shit, your literature pallet is unrefined to the point of non-existence, you have no idea what you're talking about, you have no ability to give actually good book recommendations, you're just shovelling the same mantasy slop that the ur-neckbreads shoved at you, your recommendations are bad and you should feel bad.
Are you giving worthwhile recommendations that fit the brief or are you just throwing your uwu favourite books at a person, damn the fact that it doesn't fit or might even be the exact opposite of what the OP is looking for? Hmmm???
#i am legit tweaking rn#I'm not even opposed to cis white guy authors just not THE SAME BITCHES EVERYTIME#claptrap about “battles” and “magic systems” and “realistic”...for 10 billion Dollars name a woman or POC adult sff author#the ones who aren't damned to the outer darkness of mantasy slope will at least be able to mention Ursala Leguin or Octavia Bulter#then ask them to name one ALIVE and Currently writing crickets or maybe NK Jemisin lmao#also let me not get started on their racist/misogynistic double standards#hate on Poppy war because Rin is “despicable” but then squeal about their favourite malazan character who's a serial child rapist...k1ll me#oh don't forget the covert bigotry against anything related to not cishet white men#r/fantasy is infinitely better than all the other sff subs bc at least there you actually banned for being overtly a bigot#...but! everypost about POC or queer stuff or women/feminism gets downvoted to hell#plus the sealioning nerds about “why does representation matter i only care about good bokks” ofc all the good books are by cishet white men#one of the reasons i stick around r/fantasy is that i might be one of the few big sff book spaces that isn't focused on YA or romantasy#and sorting by new and ignoring every BrandoSando KKC etc post actually makes the sub tolerable great even#y'all might think I'm being too harsh but when in “no rape/pedophilia/incest” threads r/fantasy nggas be recommending shit like ASOIAF#I'm not going to be nice ESPECIALLY when they get mad when you point out how they don't fit and it's a dick move to ignore OPs request#books#fantasy#just to be safe#tw pedophila mention#tw rape#tw incest mention
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waywardsalt · 3 months ago
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bellum x linebeck chapter summary drafts that won those polls:
chapter 8
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chapter 14
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chapter 20
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#bellum x linebeck#salty talks#tag works. anyways three chapter drafts and they have alt texts and the alt texts are sliiiiightly different form the actual text#as in i have 'pov' written as 'point of view' and fixed a typo in chapter 8#love that chapter 14 starts with anyways linebeck is running away from something. bc this is a chapter draft there is no elaboration#bc on my end its just. ok scroll back up to chapter 13. there it is#lil hint of. some. larger plot but not really. i can elaborate on anything related to these three and i am down to#but i dont rlly want to get specific abt any other chapters or story things. or at least dont ask me to if i want to do that i'll make#some sloppy salty talks text post talking in probably too much detail abt some fic thing im working on#not to be. like that. but im a lil sad that none of the ones here are any one of the ones with more fun comments in them#theres not a lot and theyre mostly in the latter drafts so far#my favorite is verbatim 'idk while dicking around he swallows some water'#i consider 'comments' to be the bits in parenthesis so theyre like notes for myself to keep in mind details a layer lower than the basic#plot stuff or just reminders and the one thats my favorite iirc was just like. fuck i need to figure out why this happens. and.#it solves my problem and i like seeing it there bc i think its silly#anyways here u go. three of them. there was a fourth person going along with the polls for a bit#and i personally have like. pet theories on who yall are so if the fourth person eventually wants to ask for whatever chapter draft they#were gonna vote for i wouldnt rlly mind sharing it bc with how it turned out i do feel a lil bad that that fourth person is left out kinda#my writing
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guubiiz · 6 months ago
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heartslabyul would be named my favorite dorm if i didn’t despise riddle.
#he’s just ......#if you don’t like him either you understand#( though i relate to riddle as a character i don’t like him for some reason )#he can be a lil’ bit silly a times ( and i mean LITTLE ) but most of the time he’s still just as unlikeable and an asshole as when we-#-first met him#i feel like a lot of the “development” is just at the end of their ob’s n’ never actually happens#idk .. the only dorm leaders i can confidently say i like as characters is leona vil n’ kalim#leona is like .. barely passing as one but i think that he’s shown to be v emotionally intelligent and i like that#vil is an absolutely wonderful character. he’s not my fav but i honestly think he’s the best character ( lilia being second )#and kalim is v v sweet ( though he’s portrayed as dense ). i think he has so much potential and it’d be wonderful if something ever happened#for the others-#idia i can relate to as a game lover n’ extreme introvert / people avoider. but he’s such a fucking dick n’ he’s got this giant superiority-#-complex but he also has an inferiority complex ??? idk when i finished watching through book 6 i didn’t really feel bad for him at all.#ortho i did but idia was still a mega bitch at the end.#azul is an absolute loser ( negative ) n’ i still think book 3 is ( n’ always will be ) the weakest#he gets the “handsome glasses” pass n’ also because i am an ursula lover#jamil ( since he ob ) is a character i LIKE but he is also just a bitch#his char development is near non-existent#kalim “set him free” or whatever the hell but it feels like his life is still centered around him? ik he’s still his servant but i wish-#-that jamil was shown as being his own person now.#and he literally thinks he’s better than everyone ... good lord.#book 6 was almost unbearable when watching him n’ leona’s part#malleus is soooooo fucking annoying atp. he’s not handsome sexy dragon he’s annoying ass crybaby. sorry but after his ob reason it’s just-#-more true.#DON’T GET ME WRONG#I LOVE ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND WHAT THEY’RE MEANT TO DO THEY DO V WELL#BUT GOD DO THEY PISS ME OFF SOMETIMES#they all have their good moments and they have their bad.#anyway this was just a rant. don’t expect this to be read#half of these thoughts don’t really make sense since i’m shoving them into the tags
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mostly-imagines · 2 months ago
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La Vie En Rose
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.
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You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.
As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.
The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.
You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.
Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.
Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle. 
Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.
The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.
Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.
“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”
He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.
Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.
You hum, "Just strawberry's good."
Tim sits up, "Can I—”
"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.
Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.
Tim looks absolutely aghast. 
“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”
“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”
Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.
Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”
You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.
Jason returns after Cass a minute later with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and two spoons. He expertly ignores Tim’s unwavering glare as he resituates himself beside you.
He scoops your legs up over his lap and positions the bowl in between you, wrapping the sleeve of his jacket around it so that the cold porcelain doesn’t make contact with your skin.
The others have set themselves up so that the four of them are stuffed up against each other on the sofa adjacent to you, very obviously examining you both. 
And while you’re willing to acknowledge the amused stares and singular glare, Jason only sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he glares at the coffee table.
Only a few seconds of this are allowed to go by before he pulls over a throw pillow and sets it over your knees, so that it rests atop your heads like a mini-fort, successfully blocking out his siblings' view of the two of you.
You smile and press a light kiss to his shoulder as he simmers.
Regrettably, you miss the way Damian side-eyes the pillow above you as he re-enters the room, perching himself atop the back of the couch behind the others.
“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”
Stephanie watches the makeshift fort with wary eyes, scooping ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah…I don’t wanna freak you guys out but, uh…”
It’s quiet for a moment and you guess Cass is speaking. 
You’re proven right when Stephanie starts up again, “My thoughts exactly.” Her voice drops into a raspy whisper that isn’t really meant to go unheard, “I don’t know who the hell that is, but it is not Jason.” 
“This is unprecedented,” Damian mumbles, dipping into his own chocolate cup.
“Do they always talk about you like you’re not here?” you ask Jason quietly. 
“Yes,” he grumbles with a scornful look directed at the bowl.
A low hiss can be heard immediately after, “I’ve never heard him whisper before, what the fuck?”
You can’t hide your laugh as well as you mean to, but you know Jason’s light swat to your thigh is nothing more than a rib.
Mumbles continue along the other couch, mostly going unacknowledged, until Tim busts out, “He doesn’t even like strawberry!”
Jason snaps the pillow out of the way, “The fuck do you know about what I like?”
Tim resets his posture with one hell of an attitude, snarking, “Well I can name one thing you really seem to fucking—”
Jason grabs the pillow harshly and chucks it at Tims head which connects with a loud thwack.
Damian swats it away before it can knock him off balance, though his scowl is only half worth what Tim’s is. 
“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a sneer. “This is why you don’t get invited to movie night anymore.”
Jason doubles back at him, “Sorry, is this not your own fucking house?”
Tim huffs, “Yes, which i—”
“Then get your own goddamn ice cream!”
Tim huffs as he stands, sending Jason a pointed look. “I’m going because I want to.”
Jason barely gives him a sardonic nod as he stomps off.
“Get me some too!” Dick calls back, only for the back of his head to be met with a sideways grimace from Tim.
As he leaves, the focus of the room seems to shift towards Damian dripping chocolate onto his cape and it fades away from there.
You turn to Jason, lowering your voice to just below a whisper, “If you don’t like strawberry—”
“I like it,” he tells you, leaving no room to argue as he takes a bite.
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Voicemail. 
Voicemail.
Voicemail. 
Voicemail.
Declined.
Voicemail.
Declined.
Declined. 
“I swear to God, he better be dead,” Stephanie mutters to herself.
She shuts her phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat with a huff. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel as she scans the sidewalk across from her car.
The night before the majority of the team had been involved in a less-than-successful plan, which some have called “a display of complete idiocy and inability to circumspect.”
Then Tim had to go and make a joke about that word choice in what was apparently a bad moment. This gave way to a harsher punishment of the team being forced to clean the batcave foot by square foot—notably, an impossible task.
So naturally, they had to retaliate.
The plan was to dismantle the batmobile piece by piece and leave it a collection of parts for Bruce to find. Problem being, the group as it stood didn’t possess the capability to do so without doing a great deal of damage to the parts. Damage, that the family was not willing to face extra retribution for.
Fortunately, they knew just the man for the job. 
Unfortunately, said man has devoted his life to ignoring their messages, favoring to live peacefully and distantly from them. And because that peace and distance does come with an add-on of borderline complete secrecy from his family, no one had any idea where to look for him.
So, Stephanie decided to do the next most rational thing and track down your location. She’d hoped he would be with you like he always is, but for seemingly the first time in the last year—he’s nowhere to be found.
Now, was revenge for a minor-slight by Bruce so important that it required Stephanie to take all of these steps to get a hold of Jason? No, absolutely not. She’s pretty sure that the others have already given up on it by now and started cleaning. But it’s about the principal. And also, she does not want to clean the floors of a cave.
She jumps up in her seat when she spots you exiting a store, scurrying to unbuckle and pry the car door open.
She’s across the street in half a second, running directly into your line of sight. It actually would’ve been very difficult for her to miss your line of sight, considering she’d landed only a good six inches in front of your face. “Hey!”   
“Oh, fuck—” you jump, grabbing your chest. You take a breath when you realize who it is, less surprised now by the theatrics of the introduction. “Hey Steph.”
“Hey,” she smiles casually, like she didn’t do what she just did. “So Jason’s been ignoring us and I need to get a hold of him,” she tells you.
You nod, still collecting yourself. “Oh. I don’t know where he is—”
She shakes her head, “That’s fine. Can I use your phone to call him?”
You frown, “Is something wrong?”
“With him, yeah,” she snarks. “I called him, Tim called him, Dick called him, Cass called him, Damian called him, we used Bruce’s phone to call him—that was a bit of a long shot, but still. This is our last option. Well, not our last option, if this doesn’t work I could get really invasive, but—” She shakes the thought from her head, “Nevermind.”
You nod blankly, taking in the mountain of information she’d just handed you. “How’d you know I was here?”
She scans your eyes back and forth for a second before her own widen in realization and she’s shaking her head. “No, no, don’t worry we’re not tracking you! I just hacked into the traffic cameras to find you.”
“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding some more. “Okay.”
You hand her your phone without any further questions—for your own sake—and she happily accepts. 
“You know I texted him 115 times?” she tells you as she scrolls through your contacts.
You furrow your eyebrows, watching her click his name and press the phone to her ear. “Did you count?”
“Well, I had the time, di—you son of a bitch! One ring?” Stephanie scorns into the phone.
You can hear Jason groan on the other end of the line. 
He says something to Stephanie that she follows up with a firm shake of her head.
“No,” she says defiantly. “She let me use it.”
Stephanie rolls her eyes, not pleased with his response. “What if it was an emergency?”
She listens for a second, skeptical look on her face.
She gasps suddenly, “I am not overstepping, we thought you were dead!”
Over the course of about ten seconds the shock on her face drops into just-been-caught guilt. “Well, I mean we considered it.”
You imagine Jason’s telling her to give you your phone back as she stands her ground, pushing, “If you promise to text me back.”
A short response on his end.
“Promise to text me back!”
There’s a brief lull before she’s giving a self-satisfied nod and jostling your phone back into your hands. “Here ya go. Thanks, babe!” She smiles wide at you before jogging back across the street, not waiting for the cars.
You smile as you watch her go, putting the phone up to your ear, “Hey Jay.”
You can hear the relief on the other end of the line. “Hey sweetheart. You know if you see Steph in public, you can just walk away?”
“I’m not going to walk away from your family.” You look again across the street, “Also I don’t think that was an option for me this time.”
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“That thing is fucking scary.”
Cass smiles fondly, signing, “I think he’s cute.”
Tim eyes the way Salem traipses around his feet, yellow eyes staring up at him. “Why’s it even here?”
Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to scroll on his phone. “He’s hers. Deal with it.”
Tim scrunches up his mouth. “She knows I hate it. And she, unlike you, wouldn’t subject me to this just for the hell of it. So again I ask: why is it here?”
Jason huffs, looking up from his phone. “What do you want me to say? He wants to be.”
Tim scoffs at that, “‘It wants to be’? You’re the one who put it in the car.”
“No, I didn’t,” Jason says factually.
Tim looks at him sideways as Salem leaps onto Jason’s lap and nudges his hand up. Jason follows along as requested, petting the top of Salem’s head with an open palm. 
Tim squirms to the other side of the couch with a look of disgust on his face. Salem watches him the whole time.  
A smile adorns Cass’ face as she signs, “She says he can read people’s energy.”
Tim huffs, resting his head against his fist. “What does that even mean?”
The conversation is cut off by the clatter of you and Dick stumbling into the room, carrying a freshly painted headboard. Blue paint coats both of your hands and has no doubt stained your clothes.
You’re clearly struggling a bit to keep your grip on your end, the weight of the wooden frame dragging your arms down.
Jason stands and Salem flows along with his movements easily, leaping down onto the hardwood. He comes over and helps you lift your end of the frame with a stupid amount of ease, to the point that you’re not even holding any of the weight up anymore. The three of you—less so you—move the headboard and lean it up against the wall. After it's set down Jason steps back and looks over it gingerly.
“It looks good,” he murmurs to you, quiet enough to not give his brother the satisfaction of his approval.
Dick had asked you over to help him paint Damian’s bed frame as a surprise for him for not getting in any “altercations” at school this semester. You’d decided on coating it with his favorite color first and then fill it in with a collection of what Dick has “on good authority” are his favorite animals. It’s a fairly random assortment that you’re not sure adds to or disproves Dick’s credibility. You’d spent the better half of the afternoon googling animals you’d never heard of just to make sure you projected their likenesses accurately. Dick had been very clear that you had to be precise on the details because Damian would know if he was really looking at a komodo dragon painting or if it was “some common lizard.”
You sigh, “I hope he likes it. I’m worried we did it too childish for him.”
“He is a child,” Jason says plainly.
“But he is not childish,” you counter. And he sure isn’t. You’d had a hard enough time convincing Damian to watch cartoons, adding a colorful animal mural to his bedroom might be one step too far. You’re still trying to figure him out.
“He’ll like it,” he says firmly.
You smile, slipping around under his arm and tucking yourself into his side.
Not a moment later, Dick slings an arm around Jason's shoulder, grinning as he pulls his brother in close.
Jason’s immediately louring. "No, get away from me."
Dick, unfazed and still smiling, removes his arm and takes a big step to the right. You do the same, figuring he needs his space, but you get caught by the wrist before you can do more than sway to the side. 
“Not you.” 
He pulls you back under his arm, wrapping it around the front of your shoulders. You hook your fingers around his forearm, letting your hand hang.
You hear a double-clap from the other side of the room that has you both turning around to face Cass. 
She signs something to Jason with a fond smile on her face. 
You look back and forth between them as Jason waves her off. “What?”
He shakes his head, “It’s nothing. She said—she said we’re cute.”
You smile up at him and he deflects—not so subtly—and starts nudging you back towards where the group is gathered, now all standing. 
Dick’s quick to start bragging off to the room about how great of a job the two of you did and how really complex and daunting it actually is painting animals for a child.
As he talks, your eyes find Jason, who’s definitely about to roll his eyes any second now. A bit subconsciously, your hand comes up to brush Jason’s white streak of hair back, away from tickling his forehead. 
On the other side of Jason, Tim does the same, sweeping Jason’s hair back in a much more mocking manner. 
This gives way to Jason smacking his hand away, harder than he needed to.
"Wha—You let her do it!" Tim protests, overplaying how much the slap hurt.
Jason scowls, "She can do whatever she wants."
Tim drops his shoulders, looking at Jason as if he’d been scandalized. “Oh but I can’t?”
“Not if it involves touching me,” Jason grumbles.
Tim steps closer, putting a finger to Jason’s chest. “You’re such a—”
From the floor, Salem hisses up at Tim, successfully startling the teenager. “Auahh—”
He stumbles backwards, grimacing at the cat. 
“Fucking demon,” he hisses, walking away.
When Tim’s far enough away and Salem’s seemingly satisfied, he brushes up against your leg, purring. 
You peer down at him with a furrowed brow. 
“What’s Salem doing here?”
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“I’m not doing this shit with you.”
“No, come on, 9 out of 10 times is what you said. How ‘bout just once? Beat me one time at anything, Jaybird.”
“Anything?” Jason asks like he knows damn well Dick can’t swear on that word.
Rightly so, Dick backtracks. “Something agreed upon.”
Jason throws his hands up, partially in exasperation, partially relenting.
Dick smoothly turns his back to him, announcing, “Opening up the room for ideas.”
Damian’s eye roll is almost audible from the corner armchair, where his attention is unmoved from intently sharpening a blade he’d recently come into possession of.
Bruce similarly remains unbothered in his seat, trying to read despite the distractions. 
“Ooh, okay. Okay.” Stephanie wiggles up a little on the couch. “You could race!”
Dick shakes his head negatively, “I literally just busted my knee up two days ago, Steph.”
“Convenient,” Jason mumbles.
“You were there!” Dick exclaims with an open mouth.
Steph continues, “Um…”
Cass waves to the room from her position upside down on the couch, head hanging down next to Stephanie’s legs. Attention successfully acquired, she signs, “Staring contest.”
Jason grimaces, “That sounds like a nightmare.”
Dick gives him a faux-smile.
“You should play chicken,” Damian chimes in, holding up his knife.
“No,” Bruce drones monotonously as he flips a page. 
“Tic tac toe?” Steph suggests.
Cass is already shaking her head as she scrunches up her mouth in thought.  
Jason rolls his eyes, “What are we, five?”
Dick nods, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “No, we need something that really proves our worth.”
Bruce looks up from his book, staring numbly through his brow, but remains silent.
“You could arm wrestle,” Steph suggests.
The elder brother twitches at that, “Uh, no.”
Cass moves past that before a joke has the chance to be made. “Handstand contest?” she suggests.
Jason shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”
The elder brother looks at him incredulously. “You’ll do a handstand contest with me?”
“That’s what I just said.”
Dick scoffs, “Jaybird, I’m an acrobat, you’re just some guy.”
Jason, not giving him the courtesy of eye contact, pulls his sweatshirt off from his back. “Well, you’re a lot of things, aren’t you?”
Dick throws his head back with a squint.
Jason fishes his phone out of his pocket and Dick follows suit, offended stare maintaining all the while. 
No exchange is required as they both toss their phones across the room, landing together with a rough clatter on Damian’s lap. Damian’s resulting glare is borderline disgusted.
Dick starts them off, “Alright, go. One…two…”
Both men push up onto their hands, muscles flexing as they find their balance. Dick’s form is better, of course, but Jason looks to have a stronger foundation.   
They both hold strong as several minutes go by with the brothers only maintaining the attention of some of the room, and the interest of none of it.
Stephanie huffs and tilts her head, thoroughly unentertained with the consistency they’re both managing. 
“Starting to wish they’d picked something that moved along a little faster,” she murmurs to Cass.
Dick glances over at the younger brother, clearly displeased with his lack of trouble keeping up with him. He shuffles closer one hand at a time, using the decreased distance to poke at Jason with his foot, trying to knock him over.
Jason kicks him back harder, “Hey! Don’t be a dick—”
“Very funny,” Dick leers.
They both end up finding a struggle to keep balance and are forced to mind their own.  
A chime rings out from the corner that has heads turning briefly in his direction before coming back to the competition. 
“Whose was that?” Dick calls out.
Damian leans over and inspects the screens with disinterest. “Todd’s.”
Jason adjusts his position, “Who is it?”
Damian responds with your name. 
“And?”
He picks up the phone shrugging like he couldn’t care less, “She wants to know if you want to go see some movie.”
There’s a brief silence before Jason drops out of the handstand, standing up. 
Dick’s blood-flushed face peers up at him, bewildered. “Wait, what?”
The family watches with wide eyes as Jason picks his sweatshirt up off the floor and tugs it back on.
Stephanie gawks, bordering on laughing. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” he says simply.
Dick lets himself fall into a kneeling position with a huff, “You would rather go to some movie you don’t even know the name of than win a bet?”
Jason moues at him, “Uh, yeah.”
He tosses a twenty at Dick, and plucks his phone from Damian’s hand as he strolls past him, typing out a reply.
Cass sits up a bit and signs up to Stephanie, “Does he even like movies?” 
Bruce, now attention now fully removed from his book, watches Jason exit with the slightest hint of a smile. Dick sits dumbly on the floor, staring after him with an open-mouth. 
Damian twists the knife in his hands around contemplatively before rising to stand. 
“I will go,” he announces, dropping his blade onto the seat of the chair. Jason grumbles a no but Damian follows after him just the same.
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you know what happened to the last guy that didn’t reblog? … 🔪🧨💥😵⚰️🪦
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neverendingford · 9 months ago
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#tag talk#seeing hornyposting on tumblr makes me realize just how insecure my last bf was about his weight#and how much internalized phobia he had about so many things (but thinking about the fatphobia specifically here)#which like. tragic because I deadass forget that people irl do have and perpetuate fatphobia#like. he was so good and chunky and I loved that but he was so wildly insecure and wanted to be skinny again and I was like noooooo#the amount of times he would make fun of fat dudes and then turn around and shame himself for putting on weight.#not very healthy and also it's like that thing how it's hard to compliment someone if they always deflect it and insist you're wrong#hard to let someone know you actually do think they're hot as fuck when they're always like ew I'm ugly I wish I were different#also... a fat guy isn't gonna use his chub in a sexy way if he's insecure about it.#like. yes pin me down with your weight and make me breathe it in. but if that just makes you insecure about your body then you're not gonna#kinda like how if you like dick but the trans woman you're with is dysphoric about it then you're not both gonna have a good time#anyway. fat people rule and chub is good and one of my many goals is to assure the people I sleep with that I think their bellies are hot#I showered with my gf a few nights back and like. honestly damn. she asked about what I thought and I was like girl you're serving classical#like. very heart shaped in the way the belly lines lead toward the thighs. idk it's very beautiful and I like it a lot.#I get that a lot of people prefer my hyper-slim body type and sure that's fair. but don't erase us who prefer heavier people.#like. I keep thinking about her.#I don't remember which art period it is that's got her specific body type I said Renaissance but I looked and they're thinner there#anyway. still figuring out how my sexuality relates to my own body because gender dysphoria forever. but I know how I feel about others
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crushmeeren · 3 months ago
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Sex chocolate with Hawks, Dabi, Aizawa and maybe Toshinori???
⋆ ft. izuku ⋆
⋆ this is written as if the guys didn’t know they’d eaten the chocolate and how they’d react to the treat. sorry I didn’t put Toshinori in this, I’m not quite sure how to write his personality yet. (ó﹏ò。)
𝛏 master list link 𝛏
// @emmab3mma hope you enjoy! ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ゚.
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Izuku’s lips would tug into a sheepish smile, no doubt thankful for the sweet treat pick me up. His eyes would brighten, a satisfied hum dancing in the air.
Izuku would be unbearably jittery out on patrol that evening, hopping from the sidewalk on one side the street to the other, green light crackling in his wake. He’d do it mindlessly, thoughts wandering to you and what you currently could be doing.
Suddenly, he’d be flailing mid air when he vividly imagines you on your knees, plush lips stretched so wide on his cock he knows it must hurt your mouth. Izuku would stumble when he hit the concrete, catching himself on the bench nearby.
Izuku’s expression would twist from calm to horrified, thoughts running a mile a minute when he steadies himself and realizes his cock is…hard. Throbbing. Straining against his hero suit. He’d make haste running to the nearest building with a public restroom.
Izuku would shut the door to the restroom and lock it before anyone could even notice he entered. He’d be frantic, shoving his pants down mid thigh as he leaned against the wall and hissed through his teeth when the cool air hit his freely bobbing cock.
He’d have a million concerns in the back of his head but not be able to focus on a single one. Izuku would have a one track mind, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking until he came in less than 20 seconds to the image of you on your knees.
Izuku would be so embarrassed afterwards, cheeks bright pink as he adjusts his clothes and washes his hands.
Being as smart as he is, he’d have a suspicion this is related to the chocolate you gave him and he intends to find out once he’s home. Once he returned, he’d tease you until you’re on the edge of tears and blurting out the truth, fucking you until your mind whites out and you scream his name.
Lucky you.
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Keigo would give you a flirty grin, winking playfully as he snatched the chocolate from you and swallowed it within two bites. You’d give him an unimpressed look but he’d just laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
Keigo isn’t surprised when he got a boner while soaring through the skies on the way to his agency. He’d been thinking about you anyways and his dick getting hard wasn’t uncommon when he thought of you. It’d be fair to say that happened often, if he’s honest.
Keigo would take note of the violent flush crawling down his neck and snaking under the fuzzy collar of his flight jacket. He’d suck his bottom lip in between his teeth and adjust his cock in his pants so it’s sticking straight up instead of outward.
He’d be able to somewhat focus on the business meeting he didn’t want to attend in the first place, only being reprimanded a few times more than normal for zoning out.
Keigo’s pulse would thunder. He’d wear a neutral expression, letting his chin rest in his propped up hand as he sent a feather to find and turn on the air because why the fuck is it so hot in here?
He’d text you something filthy as discreetly as he could under the table, biting his knuckles when you sent back a picture of yourself with your tits on display. Keigo would come to the conclusion that maybe he was a bit more pathetically horny than normal and he needed to ditch this meeting yesterday.
Keigo would go straight home, ignoring anyone who had tried to speak with him on his way out. He’d find you on the couch with nothing on but an oversized shirt and waving what’s left of the chocolate bar at him with a smirk when he entered through the balcony.
He wouldn’t even be upset when you told him what you’d done. He’d just crowd close, looming over you with a wolfish grin that shot a thrill down your spine.
Keigo would succumb to the aphrodisiac completely. He’d bend you over the backrest of the couch at hip level and wrench your arms taut behind you, fingers circling your wrists to secure you in place.
Keigo would have no mercy, sliding his cock in your tight pussy before you’re turned on enough to take him smoothly. He’d send a feather down to play with your clit until you strain to escape, not stopping despite your pleas because “this is what you wanted, isn’t it baby? yeah, so stop yapping and take it.”
In the end all you can do is nod, because if you truly wanted him to stop you’d only have to say the safe word.
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Shouta would raise an eyebrow with a bored expression on his features. He’d roll his eyes and eat the chocolate after you pushed your lower lip out and fluttered your lashes at him.
Shouta’s a sucker for you.
He’d be grading papers that afternoon, knuckles rubbing at his sleepy eyes in the office of your shared home. He’d take a break, pressing his palms to his eyes and resting his elbows on the desk.
A scenario would pop into his head, one where you sat on the edge of the desk while he’d relax in his chair and lazily eat you out. He can imagine the way your clit would feel against his tongue, how warm and soft your pussy would be on his lips.
Shouta would lean back in the chair, a hand absently dropping to his lap to palm his cock and he’d be startled at just how much he’d filled out already. His dick hot and sticking to his inner thigh. Shocked at the unavoidable thick warmth swirling in his belly when it’d usually take a bit more than a brief daydream to get this worked up.
He’d be certain that you had something to do with this and irritation would lance through him. He’d sit in the kitchen once he’s finished, arms crossed and cock stubbornly refusing to flag until you returned home.
Shouta would ask you about it as if he were asking a child if they had stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Easily, you admit to it. No hesitation, no shame, just a smug air about you.
Then, Shouta would make his fantasy a reality. He’d eat your pussy until you were right on the edge of cumming and then he’d stop. He’d speak condescendingly, saying “poor baby, your pussy just wants to cum doesn’t she?” as he sits you roughly down on his cock.
He’d spank you a few times, teasing you a bit more but he’d make you cum so intensely your toes would cramp — and then he’d keep going until his own brain got fuzzy.
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Touya would say fuck no at first. He doesn’t like chocolate. Until you mention there’s something special about the sweet and he assumes it’s an edible. You don’t bother to correct him because, technically, it is an edible, just not the kind filled with weed.
Touya would be leaning his back against the railing on your balcony, angled so he can peer into the open doors of your living room. He’d have a cigarette dangling from his lips, scrubbing at his cheek with one hand because yeah, his cheeks are typically roasting but they’re never this hot.
He’d shrug it off and nonchalantly light up the cigarette with his pointer finger. He’d startle as the tiny flame bursts into a fireball that he really didn’t mean to create when you stride past the doorway in soft shorts that show the crease of where your thigh joins your ass.
You’d freeze mid step and turn to stare at him incredulously, lips parted slightly when the aftershock of heated air damn near singes your skin.
Touya would be flustered. Cheeks painted rosy pink with embarrassment at the lack of control over his quirk. He’d scowl harshly, pinching his brows together as he dropped and stomped on his cigarette to put it out. He’d stalk towards you and snarl “why the hell are you wearing those fucking shorts?” as if his sudden overbearing lust is your fault specifically.
You’d roll your eyes and begin walking in the direction you’d intended in the first place but Touya would snatch your wrist tight enough the bones grind together and drag you to your bedroom. He’d ignore your obviously fake bewildered expression and shove you onto the mattress. He can’t focus on the fact that you seem to be going along with this a bit too easily.
His cock would be jumping and pushing painfully against the zipper of his jeans before he so much as kissed you. He wouldn’t get either of you truly naked, he’d just slide your soft shorts to the side and unzip his jeans. He’d shove your shirt to your collarbone so he could watch the way your tits are about to bounce.
Touya would yank your ankles up and over his shoulders until the backs of your thighs press into his chest and then fold you in half like you’re a fucking blanket. He’d tilt his hips until his tip catches on your pussy and then he’s shoving his cock all the way inside to steal the breath from your lungs.
Touya wouldn’t have the self control to stop for a long time that evening and you’d almost regret giving him the chocolate. Almost.
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4unnyr0se · 5 months ago
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PLEASEEEE MATCHING WITH CAPTAINS ON TINDER WITH USHI AND KITA PLEASEEE IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES 🙁 FROM ONE AUTISTIC TO ANOTHER I AM BEGGING YOU
❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | wakatoshi ushijima and shinsuke kita
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warnings: timeskip! ushijima and kita, fem! reader size kink, protected sex, hayloft sex, unprotected sex, biting, marking, virgin! ushijima, soft dom! kita, spanking, rough sex, tendou mentioned, kind of dom reader for ushijima
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 2k
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Wakatoshi Ushijima | Loosing his virginity
Ushijima wasn’t a stranger to people talking about their sex lives around him. His face was so stoic and statuesque that no one could tell if he was uncomfortable listening to the subject. The topics spoken in his vicinity ranged from how big a woman’s breasts were to how someone lost their virginity. He had to admit, he was a bit more awkward around those conversations because he couldn’t relate. He was a 26-year-old virgin, while his teammates and rivals had no doubt lost their virginity years prior. Some people even lost their virginity in high school. How scandalous!
He had contacted Tendou, his closest friend from Shirtatorizawa, to hopefully give him advice on the subject. Tendou was shocked at first (and found this entire situation to be completely hilarious) but offered his advice anyway. He told Ushijima that losing your virginity doesn’t have to be a big deal, that it doesn’t have to be romantic or special. It’s just something that happens, and everyone is different. Tendou also recommended downloading Tinder, which is a very useful resource. “If you want sex with no strings attached, look no further.” his words rang in Ushijima’s ears, his thumb hovering directly over your profile. You seemed like a good match for him, but he didn’t really know what he wanted yet. 
Shrugging his shoulders, he slid right on your profile and was surprised when you matched with him. He had very clearly stated that he was a virgin in his biography (Why would he not? It was accurate), so that kind of deterred people from matching with him. You messaged him instantly, suggesting he visit your apartment sometime this week. Of course, he accepted; that was the whole reason why he was on that app. He had one concern, however. Ushijima was massive, bigger than any other man by a wide margin. Could you handle him?
“Shh,” gentle sounds left your lips as you covered your dripping core above Ushijima’s length, observing how it was practically twitching with want for you. “We don’t have to rush things, okay? I know it’s your first time, baby,” you kissed the side of his cheek tenderly, your nails dragging themselves up and down his muscular chest. “Just let me make you feel good.”
He could only nod as your lips touched his once more, biting on his swelling bottom lip playfully. His hands rested on your hips, kneading the flesh between his calloused fingers. His usual stoic face was flushed, lipstick marks adorning his chapped lips and thick neck. He impatiently squeezed your hips, not daring to open his mouth just yet. 
“Oh? Are you ready now, ‘Toshi?” you purred, breaking the kiss to lower yourself down even further. “You have to tell me if you want this, baby. Or else I won’t do it.”
“P-please,” Ushijima mumbled, his eyes staring intensely into yours. He couldn’t take it anymore; he needed to feel you. He needed to know if the stories his teammates told him were true and if it felt like euphoria once he was inside you. Without giving you any warning, he thrust his hips upwards, pushing his pulsating shaft inside your sobbing core. “Sorry, couldn’t wait any longer. Fuck.”
“Shit!” you cried out, balancing yourself on his broad shoulders. “Y-you’re really fucking big. G-gimme a second, okay?” your breath was quick and shallow, your walls wrapping so perfectly around his huge cock. Was he really a virgin? There was no way in hell someone with that big of a dick was a virgin. After regaining your composure, your hips began to move up and down on his length, a wanton mewl escaping your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive place. 
“Go faster,” Ushijima demanded, gripping harder onto your hips. He wanted to take charge but had no experience in this department. What if he messed up? What if he hurt you? His left hand was the size of your entire ass, you were so fragile compared to him. “Wanna feel more of you.” He cracked his palm against your ass softly, massaging the stinging flesh soon afterward. 
You nodded, burying your blushing face in his neck. Your bruised lips peppered soft kisses on his skin as you continued to bounce up and down on his gigantic cock, his head brushing against your cervix so deliciously. All that could be heard in your apartment was the sensual sound of R&B music, your wanton cries of pleasure, and Ushijima’s occasional grunt or deep moan. He wasn’t very vocal, but he was close; he could feel his cock twitching inside of you, relishing in the sensation of your gummy walls, attempting to milk him for all he was worth. “I’m, fuck, I’m gonna cum soon. Feels fucking incredible.”
“D-d’ya wanna cum inside o-or on my tits?” you whimpered, feeling your own climax quickly approaching. He was just so fucking big, and his voice was so deep. Each word he spoke made your clit throb even harder. “P-please ‘Toshi!”
“Inside,” he demanded, bolding, leaning up to kiss you once more. The kiss was molten, full of fire and passion that he had so long oppressed. He groaned in your mouth as he felt you let go of your cock, feeling your body convulse around him. The sounds of your pathetic and fucked out mewls drove him over the edge, his cum painting the walls of your womb white. 
You broke the kiss and smiled at him, pulling yourself off of his cock with a pop! Ushijima groaned at the sight of his seed trickling down your thighs so beautifully, looking like a Renaissance painting. Was this the sensation his teammates were talking about earlier, was it this kind of beauty? 
“Was that a good first time?” you asked, snapping him out of his wandering thoughts. He nodded and got off the bed, dressing himself quickly. “Yes, I liked it. Thanks.” The faintest tinge of pink dusted his cheeks, his eyes not daring to meet yours. He knew that if he looked into your pretty eyes again, he would be included to stay, and he couldn’t risk getting distracted from volleyball. 
“You have my number if you ever want to, y’know, fuck again. You were really good for a virgin.” Was that a compliment or an insult? Ushijima couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both, he didn’t take it personally. He turned towards you, still not making eye contact. Fuck, you were so damn pretty. Was missing his practice tomorrow really worth it? Did he want to have you in his arms that badly? 
“Maybe I’ll give you a call some other time.”
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Shinsuke Kita | The florist
Kita loved the local farmers market. It was where he could sell his rice without worrying about the middleman. It was peaceful, seeing the mothers bring their children and pets. Seeing couples holding hands as they checked out the local food and drink vendors. This weekend, Kita wasn’t at his usual booth. He chose to browse instead, having turned an acceptable profit this month. There were stands that he had seen a million times before and one that was brand new. Fresh, the paint is not yet chipped off by children carelessly running into it. And it smelled beautiful, but that was no surprise. After all, it was a florist's booth.
He saw no one running the stand currently, maybe they were on break. Kita shrugged and took out his phone, opening Tinder to mindlessly swipe through it. It wasn’t an ideal pastime, but it beat standing around waiting for the floral stall owner to show up. 
You greeted him with a rushed hello, an embarrassed blush tinting your cheeks as you apologized for being away from the stand for so long. Before Kita could respond, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Opening the notification, you saw none other but the profile of the man standing before you, looking incredibly attractive. 
“You matched with me,” you blushed, holding your phone for Kita to see. He smiled softly, thinking it was adorable how you could barely make eye contact with him. 
“It appears I have.”
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“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, princess,” Kita purred against your lips, thrusting into you so gently Like you would break like you were made of glass. “Think you can take more of me, darling? I’m barely halfway inside that pretty pussy.”
Fuck, his voice made you squeeze around him even harder. Here you were, laying under him in a hayloft with your hands clawing desperately at his muscular back whilst he thrust inside of you so slowly, painfully slow. Was he trying to be a tease? Was making you squirm his kink? “J-just fuck me already! Don’t tease. It’s mean!” you whimpered in frustration, attempting to angle your hips in such a way that you could feel Kita deeper inside of your core. 
“I’m not trying to be mean, sweetness,” he chuckled against your lips, pecking them softly. They tasted like vanilla and roses, a pure scent that did not fit you being defiled in a hayloft. “Just don’t wanna be too rough with you, that’s all.” he squeezed your wrists, pinning them above your hand with just one of his hands. “But if a pretty girl like you wants me to go rough, I guess I have no choice.”
The atmosphere changed instantly as Kita slammed himself into you at full force, his length pistoning in and out of your sobbing core. Your pathetic and adorable sobs of pleasure filled the hayloft, the occasional beg and plead thrown in as Kita destroyed your insides with his cock. He was holding back, not wanting to break any barriers you had set up. But when you beg him in that angelic voice to fuck you, who is he to refuse a darling such as yourself?
“Is this any better, sweetheart?” Kita groaned against your neck, trailing kisses down the already bruised flesh until he reached that sweet spot just above your collarbone. His teeth just grazed the skin as he continued to practically slam into you, shaking the sensitive wood of the hayloft with each powerful thrust inside your drenched core. “Do you like it when I fuck you like this instead, hm?”
“Yes! Fuck, Kita! M’close, holy fuck! I’m so fucking close, please!” you sobbed into his shoulder, your nails leaving angry crescent imprints on his back in accompaniment with the array of feral red scratches. “Please, please, please! Lemme cum!”
Kita moaned at your desperate words, the cadence of your voice making his dick twitch deep inside of you. He was close to his climax as well, your mewls of pleasure making the sensations he was feeling all the more delicious. “Yeah, you wanna cum pretty girl? It’s okay, cum on my fucking cock. Fucking make a mess all over me.” he bit down harshly onto your collarbone, punctuating every other sentence fragment with a powerful thrust into your weeping cunt. He felt your gummy walls attempting to pull him impossibly deeper, your orgasm approaching incredibly fast.
Finally, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of complete euphoria. You sobbed as your release coated his cock, almost sending Kita over the edge in tandem. Quickly, Kita pulled out of your throbbing core and frantically fisted his cock, quietly roaring as his hot and sticky ropes of white painted your stomach so beautifully. He stood above you for a moment, admiring how beautiful you were from his point of view. Shaking from your orgasm, covered in his mess. You looked so fucking perfect.
“That was incredible,” Kita smiled at you, sitting beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the teeth marks he had left earlier. “Do you feel good, sweetheart?” His tone was soft, gentle, and kind. He wanted to ensure you knew you would be cared for, even though you both accomplished what you wanted. 
“I feel amazing, thank you.” you smiled, resting your face on his exposed shoulder. Your eyes landed on the scratches and marks you left on his back, fingers tracing over them tenderly. “Uh, sorry about all of this. I’m not usually this rough.”
Kita kissed the top of your head and pulled you closer to his form, caging you in his muscular arms whilst he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. 
“You have nothing to worry about, pretty girl.”
okay this ask was literally so sweet i love u nonnie
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lunasfics · 1 year ago
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Found Family
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
word count: 8.2k
preview
a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)
reblogs are appreciated!
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“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 
“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 
“Good. Nightwing?” 
“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 
“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 
“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 
“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 
Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”
“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 
Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”
He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 
Attempt 1: G6B24 
Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)
Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 
Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision
‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 
“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 
Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.
His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 
“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 
“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.
Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 
“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 
The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.
You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 
“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.
You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.
“Batman?” 
Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.
Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 
You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 
Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 
"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.
He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."
You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 
When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.
They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 
“Hello?” 
“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”
“What’s going o-”
He hung up. 
Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 
Damian covered his laugh with a cough.
You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 
Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 
Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 
Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.
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Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 
He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”
You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.
Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 
Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 
You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 
Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 
“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 
You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?
“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 
Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 
At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 
Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.
Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 
You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.
“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  
Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 
You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 
“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 
“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 
Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 
“Wayne.” 
He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”
“Wayne.”
This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”
The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 
Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”
“No.” came their simultaneous response. 
Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 
Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 
Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 
Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”
Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”
Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”
You nodded, “I like it.” 
Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”
Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 
Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 
Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 
Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 
Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 
You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 
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You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 
“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 
“They’re fine…Thank you.”
He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 
You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 
You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 
Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner
You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 
You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 
Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 
Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 
“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.
He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 
You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 
“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.
His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 
“How?” 
All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 
“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 
Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”
“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 
Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 
Bruce simply gave a nod. 
Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 
Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.
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Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 
Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 
She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 
Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”
“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 
“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.
Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”
You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”
“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 
Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 
He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”
“Sounds about right.” 
Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 
The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.
The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.
Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 
“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  
The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 
“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.
“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 
You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 
Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 
You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 
Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.
Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 
“This better be good.” 
Tim mumbled, “Finally” 
“Miss me Timmy?” 
“Quite the contrary.”
The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 
His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 
“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 
Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 
“Holy shit, man.” 
“Jason, will you shut up?” 
“Never.” 
“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 
“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 
“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 
“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 
“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 
Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 
“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 
“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 
“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 
Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 
Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 
“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 
Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 
Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 
“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 
She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 
“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 
Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 
“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 
“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.
“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 
“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 
“I want time with her, Bruce.” 
“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 
Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 
Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 
You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”
She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”
You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
Clark gave you a fond smile. 
Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 
The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 
“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 
You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 
It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 
You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 
He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”
“I suppose so.” 
“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 
“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 
“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 
Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 
A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 
You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 
Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.
Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 
You nodded, “Yes, please.” 
Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 
“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”
Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”
Cass nodded in agreement. 
“We’re just buying training clothes.” 
“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 
You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 
“See?”
Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”
Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 
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When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.
Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 
You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 
The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.
He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 
He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 
The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 
By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.
The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 
When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 
The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.
As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 
You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 
He nodded, walking away to change as well. 
You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 
“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”
You nodded.
“Let’s see it.” 
You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.
Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.
Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”
He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
You nodded. Made sense. 
“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 
You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.
Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 
You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 
This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 
Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 
You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.
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The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.
He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 
And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 
“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 
You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 
You nodded, “How are we doing that?”
He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 
You nodded. 
“Okay… and…. Go!”
You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 
“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 
You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 
They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 
That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 
They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 
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The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 
Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 
Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 
You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.
Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 
Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.
Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 
You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.
Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.
Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.
True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.
Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 
You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.
Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 
You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.
Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’
Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 
Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.
These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.
These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.
And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.
You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.
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Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag (I'm not sure why some people's tags didn't work,, I am very sorry, if anyone has suggestions onhow to fix that i'm open to fix them)
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slvttyplum · 7 months ago
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random share but you know the "depressed geto who just needs you sooooo bad to feel better" fic trope? (me and my friend eat that shit up lol). i had a revelation of a related prompt: "geto who is no longer in a depressive ep and his drive is thru the roof" 🤪
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suguru was wearing you the fuck out, you losing your breath and him tying his hair in a bun as you try to catch your breath, the same thing has been happening every single night and even twice a day if he felt like doing extra work.
suguru hasn't been doing the greatest the last three months, and you tried your hardest to help him, but he just needed time, and he got it, a random week he was back to him, feeling better and wanting to do different things, that including you, and he wasn't playing when it came to that.
his sex drive was through the roof and him jerking it wasn't helping shit, he needed your pussy sliding up and down on his every second, he didn't even want to slide out not to cum inside of you, he was disconnected to you and never wanted to disconnect, he didn't realize how much he missed you until you finally laid the pussy on him.
his eye twitching when he first had you slide onto him, that's when he realized he needed you every second of every day. suguru even took days off just to fuck you, he couldn't help it, it felt too good to just stop and pick it up at night, he was going to go on for hours and take advantage of the time he had with you.
“you're the one who took off, not me. i have to go to work.” a pout on your face as you stare at him moving in closer with a sly smirk on his lips as he takes his arm, wrapping it around your waist and moving in for a kiss, his other hand around your neck. he needed you so bad he could barely think, his dick pushing out his sweatpants, you could feel his bulge press against you.
“i'll pay you double what you would've made this whole week. please? i need you.” kissing you again before you toss your bag on the floor and him pushing you into the bed, wasting no time stripping off his sweatpants and getting to work. there was nothing else on his mind beside you, the only thing flashing throughout his head was your pretty smile and the nasty shit he was going to do to you.
those seven days he tore your ass up, you couldn't even form sentences in between what he was doing, your pussy still tingling even after he was thankfully out of you. his cum leaking out of you as you tried to catch your breath, his hands still rubbing over you as he laid in between your legs and played with you, your eyes going blurry from the tears that were forming in your eyes, light moans slipping out of your mouth, you could barely breathe.
your whole body covered with hickies and your knees bruised from you kneeling on the ground from suguru face fucking you, and some of his cum still in the back of your throat from before. it was like he was trying to test hard far he could get away with doing things before you finally told him to stop, but you never did, you just let him keep doing things because it felt too fucking good not too.
even though he was tearing you down and thrusting into you s hard you could barely breathe and tears were sliding down your pretty cheeks, it still felt good to have him inside of you, his dick stretching out your walls over and over again or his dick sliding on your tongue and his cum leaking in the back of your throat.
this was better than anything you've ever experienced and both you and suguru wanted to savor the moments where his sex drive was so high he didn't care he had to pay you back double the amount you would've gotten paid, he just needed you, or he was going to breakdown, you and only you.
your pussy tightening around him every time he finished inside of you, his dick still sliding in and out, the stimulation of how wet your pussy was and his cum mixing together to make lewd sounds, it drove him crazy. sweat forming on his naked body, falling onto your body with every thrust, his body still moving as he ties his hair up so that he can see your pretty expressions to everything he does to you.
pushing into you over and over with no care in the world if the neighbors hear or not, all he knew was that he wanted to be buried inside of you forever and always without a care in the world. his cheeks flushed red from staring into your beautiful eyes and your pussy squeezing around him tightly every time he said something.
his hand on your cheeks, his fingers pushing open your mouth as he slammed into you, gathering his spit and having it slip into your mouth slowing. the feeling of his warm spit sliding into your mouth made you roll your eyes and jerk with pleasure, shortly after closing your mouth with his. his tongue sliding over yours.
“ i love you so fucking much, you're mine.” his eyes piercing into yours as he slams into you once more, his cum leaking into you again, filling you whole.
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venus-haze · 7 months ago
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Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)
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Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.
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You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.
“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.
“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”
“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.
Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.
“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”
“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“
“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”
You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”
“Pick your poison.”
“Whiskey?”
“Sure.”
At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right. 
He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To taking next week off.”
“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”
You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”
“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”
You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.
“I might need some convincing.”
“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.
You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”
“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”
Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor. 
“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”
With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.
He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”
And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.
“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”
He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.
“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“What was that?” 
You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 
His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.
It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk. 
Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth. 
“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.
“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”
“What are you gonna do to me?”
“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”
You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”
“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”
“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release. 
He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust. 
You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.
You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.
“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”
“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”
“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“
You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”
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snekdood · 5 months ago
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bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?
#personally I think me making fun of a douchey type of dude is less bad than drawing 'rape is fun' but yknow#ig I can just weigh the gravity of how bad each thing is accurately idk#vent#'yeah but you started to identify with the douche bag character !!' well- even before i realized I wanted to be him- the plot was#already that he was going to grow out of being a dick. him and mj were going to help eachother realize their flaws and become better#to eachother and everyone else. so by the time i DID realize I wanted to be a guy I already had in mind the mature version of him#floating around but I didn't really post about it bc I didn't want to spoil anything at the time#and it took me a LONG TIME to accept that I wanted to be snake. I was trans before that. and then when I was close to accepting it#I had that whole 'lsd' thing that made me slink back into my shell bc the people I was around made me feel like I would never be a guy#so instead I figured if I couldn't be snake then the next best thing was to be *with* him and started to self ship myself w him and he#evolved even more into an even more mature version of him that by the time I got out on the other side of feeling like I couldn't#be a guy I had this more serious and mature version of him in my mind and started to accept that I wanted to be him and basically was him#and just didn't know bc that version of snake was more like me than the one I made in 2013/14#in 2013/14 I was only ever considering my comic in the context of some sort of comedy and just wanted to make a douchey character#to make fun of bc I had a lot of douchey people in my life who I felt like needed to be knocked down a peg and I figured the best way#to do that was to make an example out of them via the old version of snake and have him be an overly confident asshole whos hubris#often gets himself humbled even if hes too prideful to accept or admit it#at this point in time I didn't really see much of myself in any of my ocs. maybe a lil bit in mj and (mostly)peaches bc I didn't know it wa#ok to id with a guy... but even when I did subconsciously id with him here n there...i didnt relate to snakes douchey-ness like at all.#sometimes I jokingly act like a douche but again its for the same reason that I made snake a douche back then in the first place-#to make fun of people like that- to hopefully show them how foolish they are by me mirroring them or. alternatively. making people#laugh at me acting that way because pretending to act like a douche is easier to enjoy and laugh at than dealing w an actual douche#i'd do it with my ex-bestfriend all the time- I made snake such a dick because we'd laugh about it together and bc we wanted to make#fun of the dicks around us who lacked any self awareness and if not that any actual fuck about how lame and shitty they come off#what can I say. it's fun to mock people sometimes.#when I actually started to accept it my first pic I drew of him being obviously trans was in 2016... soo a couple months before I remet#my abuser...#which honestly explains why that whole relationship was so rough on me. I had just finally accepted myself and then this person comes#along and tries to smear me and gaslight me into thinking im Horrible for who I am. like. hello???????#my first time fully being myself was with them and their friend group and they all accepted me until their cult leader told them not to
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celuere · 2 months ago
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Teased
photo creds to @/Sakupake_OxO on twt !
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Part two of the Teaser story!
Pairing: Arlecchino x fem!reader
cw: voyeurism, deepthroating (reader takes it like a champ tho), mirror sex, mild degradation, praising, arle has a dick here, full nelson, I actually suck at writing orgasms I am so sorry, not proofread
This took me like 9183929392 years to finish I am sorry BUT I DELIVERED! ENJOY!!!!
NSFW utc, MDNI!
„Sit.“, a black hand gestures over to your shared bed. You didn’t dare look up to her face. You knew better than to make eye contact with her when not directly commanded to do so. Knew pleasuring her underneath the table filled with other high operatives would come at a prize. But you were more than willing to pay or else you wouldn’t be standing in front of her right now. Being preyed at like a lamb cornered by a starving wolf.
The snap of her fingers suddenly echoed through your shared bedroom, followed by her hand lifting your face up by your chin to make you face her.
„I told you to sit. What has gotten into you today, hm?“, heat dropped right into your core as your eyes found the bloody X‘s of your wife’s. You felt your breath hitch, subconsciously pressing your thighs together as you couldn’t help but quickly advert your eyes again.
„Doll, my eyes are up here. I didn’t tell you to look away, now did I?“, her thumb gently caressing your bottom lip. Her voice was low, a slightly annoyed undertone to it. Didn’t really help the fact that your inner thighs were already coated in your own juices.
„So disobedient today… did I do something that perhaps upset you, love?“, she studied your face as if she tried to look right into that pretty little head of yours. Maybe so she could already come up with something to make you beg her for mercy. Maybe she‘s gonna let you bounce on her cock, maybe even coat your beautiful face with her cum.
To be honest Arlecchino could never really decide what she should do with you. She loved the way her dick fit perfectly into your cunt, the way you clenched around her fingers, how your eyes fluttered shut whenever you melted apart underneath her, her name leaving your lips like a prayer over and over again. She was addicted to everything even mildly related to you.
„N-No…“, you quickly cleared your throat, „No, you didn’t… I just… thought I could pass some time if I…“, a bite to your lower lip as you thought back to how she pressed her hardened dick into the palm of your hand.
„If you what? Decide to please me underneath the table in front of what? The other Harbingers along with the twenty high officers at the table? What if someone dared to have a look in our direction? What then, hm?“, the nail of her thumb now pressing into your cheek, you hissed slightly. Congratulations. You successfully pissed her off and now you can suffer the consequences. Even tho suffer seems to be the wrong word here…
Her cold stare was a strong contradict to her hot touch against your face but that quickly vanished as she let go of your chin before her hands got to work on opening up the tie around her neck.
„You know what happens to people who misbehave under my watch. Right?“, the words reached your ears but not your brain. You were too captivated by how delicately her fingers opened up her tie before they got to work on the belt. Oh, those fucking fingers. You remembered the first time she used her fingers on your all too well. How she had you clinging to the sheets in a matter of seconds, legs quivering as you could do nothing but pray for at least some mercy from her.
„….et naked.“
Hm?
„Sweetheart.“
The harsh grip on your face ripped you out of your daydreams like a bucket of ice water.
„H-Huh…?“, blinking once- then twice to regain focus on your wife’s facial features, it took no expert to figure out that her patience was hanging on one singular, very thin strick.
„I didn’t even get the chance to have you loose your mind over my dick and you’re already elsewhere with your head? I don’t remember teaching you such manners. I said get naked.“, the bare tone that laced her tongue was enough for you to rub your thighs together but before she might get the idea to not make you cum at all today, your fingers got to work on opening up that silken shirt of yours.
With gleaming eyes she watched you undo the buttons one by one, contemplating wether she should speed up this agonizing process by simply ripping the clothing open, her mind already working up a plan for you. Oh, she won’t just make you apologize. She will have you begging for her. Begging to take her cock deeper, to fill you up with her semen that you will never think about anything else ever again. You owed her that.
Earning yourself an approving nod as you were now covered by nothing else other than your soaked lace panties, the cold air surrounding you forced goosebumps on your skin as your nipples hardened at the chill. A lamb waiting for its slaughter. That’s exactly how you felt at this very moment. Utterly at her mercy with no one coming to save you.
You didn’t want to be rescued anyways.
„What shall I possibly do with you…“, putting her hands behind her back, your wife took a step to the aside to reveal the mirror she‘s been hiding behind her figure. That naked reflexion of yours forced a blush to creep up on your face. You were so very naked and she was still so very clothed. And for one particular reason.
Arlecchino wanted to let you know exactly who is in charge in this bedroom. Who is wearing the collar and who is holding the leash.
„Spread your legs. Pleasure yourself in front of me. You want more? Earn it.“, her tone left absolutely zero room for complaints or discussions, snapping her fingers to signal you to start.
Reluctantly you opened your legs, slowly revealing how your soaked cunt gleamed in the chandelier light. And she didn’t even touch you once tonight. At least not yet.
You traced your fingers over the slickness of your cunt, a breathy whimper leaving your lips, „Of course, Per-”
„You know my title. Make use of it.“, fuck, those words went straight into your core. Never once was she commanding you around or using her position in the Fatui to undermine or silence you, but here? In the privacy of your home? Let that woman have some fun, no?
Gulping down the nervousness, you replied back, not wanting to anger her even further, „O-Of course, Lady Arlecchino… Whatever you may… wish for…“, slipping your fingers now inside, you allowed yourself to fall back into the soft sheets, curling up your fingers in search of your spot. If it were Arle‘s fingers inside of you instead, she‘d already found it, but you have actually troubles with finding it on your own. Quite embarrassing, isn’t it? But what else to expect when she is already doing such an excellent job at fulfilling your needs in the bedroom.
„You need to push them deeper inside before curling up. Come on. Try it.“, with her eyes being fixated on your cunt taking in your fingers, you followed her suggestion by shoving them deeper until your all the way to your knuckles inside. The first curl had a moan after the other slipping past your lips. The second curl made you arch your back. After the third one your hips were practically grinding against your hand for more friction, deeper access. It wasn’t enough. No way in hell were your fingers enough to still the hunger inside of you.
„That‘s it. Fuck that pretty hand of yours. Make sure to spread them every once in a while as you still need to prepare yourself for me.“, as she spoke down at you with a low tone, watching you, analyzing you. How you had one eye closed for example. The back of your hand hovering above your mouth but not muffling that beautiful melody of yours either. Your nipples practically screaming at her to pay them some attention.
A gift from the gods themselves.
That was the only fitting description for your current appearance to her.
Parting your slick walls the inside, goodness it felt different. You didn’t have the same strength in your fingers like your wife did. They were nowhere nearly as skilled when it came to hitting your weak spot over and over. To switch between curling up and spreading them all in a matter of mere moments. Your hand- no. Your whole arm was growing tired, muscles aching as you tried to keep your pace up.
„L-Lady Arle- hah… A-Arlecchino… I don’t think I…-”, whimpering as the speed of your fingers was greatly decreasing, your wife clicked her tongue at you in frustration.
„Out of practice? A shame.“, her eyes now wandered up from between your legs to your face, expressionless. Not calculated. „It seems I have to use different methods on you… Take your fingers out and get on your knees. There is still a mess you need to take care of.“, tapping the wet spot on her bulge with one of her black fingers, you didn’t have to be a genius to know what she is referring to.
But you did as told. Pulling your soaked fingers out and got off of the bed to drop to your knees right in front of her as she got to work on her belt. The mere sight of watching your wife pulling down the layers of fabric made you rub your legs together.
And the sight.
The sight might just push you over the edge.
Prior to climaxing in her boxers, the tip along with almost half of her shaft is covered in the white texture. Even now there are still drops of precum leaking from the slit on the top. You did a fucking great jab back in the meeting. And you were proud. Proud to be the one to cleaning all of that up.
„Huh… seems like someone is admiring her work. Go on. Do your job.“, giving your head a nudge towards her dick until she rested it right on your lips. May this view brand itself into her brain. You, kneeling before her and ready to suck her cock will always her favorite. You were just so cute with those plump lips, the pleading eyes and Celestia above- your tits on full display to her.
Hesitant at first, you eventually submitted as you slowly took in the first few inches of her into your mouth. Making sure to swirl your tongue around the coated skin before you felt her hand getting a good grip on your hair and the Knave leaned her head back into her neck. Now letting a moan of her own echo through the walls of your sleeping chambers.
„Just… Just like that, doll… That‘s it… Such a good girl, aren’t you…?“, using the grip on your head now to shove your forwards on her cock until the tip kissed the back of your throat. Then she waited. Before carefully pushing her hips forward and adding the remaining inches into you.
With your nose now buried in her hair, the tears quickly began to sting in your eyes as you tried to slowly breathe through your nose, a slight gagging sound erupting from your throat.
„Mhm… taking me so well without…“, your wife actually had to take a quick gasp of air in between her words, „…complaining… That’s how I like… my wife…“, with an agonizingly slow speed she withdrew her length from the warmth of your mouth. Only to push herself all the way back inside. Over and over until she reached a somehow steady pace that was not to rough on your throat but still enough to have her occasionally moan out. That mixed with your own hums against her, needless to say you were a dripping mess down there.
„I want you to swallow it all up… don’t waste a single drop of me. Understood…? Hah…“, stroking now over your head and brushing the loose strands out of your sweaty face, Arlecchino spared no efforts when she sped up the movements of her hips. Tears staining your cheeks while you sucked on her until she eventually started twitching in your mouth before she eventually released herself inside with a low groan, nails scraping your scalp in the process.
The nutty taste that soon coated your tongue as she withdrew herself forced a grimace on your face, the texture of it didn’t really help as you looked up to her wit bloated cheeks. You loved the woman in front of you dearly but her cum was not it.
Slicking her hair back with a swift comb of her fingers, she tapped your chin.
„I told you to swallow.“
With no choice other than to oblige, you started to force the containments down, the salty aftertaste leaving a bitter expression on your face, you preferred her cum painting your face gorgeous face way more than this.
„Yeah, that’s it. Get all that stuff down.“
When you were done with the small appetizer, you opened up and stuck out your tongue to her as she took your in saliva-coated chin between her fingers to inspect you further.
„Mhm… not a single drop left. Such a good doll aren’t you…?“, closing your mouth back up as she sat down at the edge of the bed, your wife now patted her lap before making a little twirling motion with her finger. Gods above, this woman.
„Take a seat, pretty thing. Make sure to face the mirror.“, she waited patiently for you to get up on slightly wobbly legs. How adorable. But she decided to not tease you about it - at least not today.
Guiding your hips until your leaking pussy hovered right over her still erected dick, her free hand pointed at the mirror in front of you.
„I want you to watch. I want you to watch the way you‘re going to swallow me whole without any problems, understood?“, when you didn’t give a clear answer, she pushed your hips down on the first inch, „Understood? What happened to your manners, woman?“, her sharp nails digging into your soft flesh, you didn’t hesitate before sitting down on her completely.
„H-Hah-! U-Understood-!“, you tried your best with supporting yourself by grabbing onto her thighs but that didn’t do. One moment you were neatly placed in her lap, the next moment she had your legs suddenly restrained to your chest as all you could do was moan and whimper for her to be move while you were forced to look at the reflection of your cunt being split open on her cock.
The Knave was for once having troubles with breathing herself. The closeness. Your pathetic sounds filling the room. The way your walls clenched around her dick. Waiting sounded like torture to her. What should she wait for? She slid in and out of you like butter. Lifting you up and down over her length while simultaneously thrusting her hips up against you.
As for your part? You were already far gone as your wife dedicated herself to hit your g-spot each time she fucked back into you, dizzying your mind further and further as you reached behind you to bury your hand in between her strands of hair, begging for more - begging her to fuck like it’s her last day on earth.
Maybe you should tease her more often during important meetings.
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schrijverr · 11 months ago
Text
We’re Adopted?!?
When Bruce’s kids end up on the Watchtower due to a set of unforeseen circumstances, Jason first tries to get the League to believe that they’re all biologically related to Bruce. He tries to avoid having Jason give everyone a sex talk by reminding him that he’s adopted. This leads to all his kids pretending that this is the first time they’ve heard of it, much to the horror of the League and the exasperation of Bruce.
Based on this post.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: none
~~~~
It finally happened. After years of successfully keeping the League from finding out about all the kids he has, they’ve finally met. And in the most dramatic way too. In a way it’s very suited for their family, but that is a detail Bruce had hoped to keep from the League.
However, it happens anyway and now his two teams have met.
They’re sitting in the common area of the Watchtower when the Zeta-Tube suddenly whirs to life and the Batmobile comes crashing into the area. It spins to a stop as if it had been in the middle of a chase, before the teleporter snatched them off the streets.
Bruce gets out of his chair and makes his way over. He isn’t too worried about them, since they’re here and while that might have meant danger before, they are safe with him now. If one of them had been terribly injured or left behind, they would be screaming and yelling already and that isn’t happening yet.
His eyes meet Tim’s, who is standing next to the car, his costume a little singed, hair askew and looking a little worse for wear. Apologetically he greets: “Hi, Justice League, promise we have a good reason to be here.”
For Bruce, this is quite normal chaos and these are his kids, but he notices that the Justice League has formed a defensive barrier around the Batmobile. They perceive his kids as a threat. It’s so absurd that he is quiet for a moment.
In that moment, Superman steps forward and demands to know: “Who are you and how did you get up here?”
“With a car no less,” Hal adds, sounding a little impressed, which doesn’t make Bruce smug in the slightest, no sir.
He is about to tell everyone to stand down when the doors of the car open and his kids come spilling out. It’s a bit of a car clown moment with how many vigilantes fit inside.
Dick nearly falls out of the side, with Damian following after him. Both of them have soot in their hair and scratches on their faces.
A singed Jason stumbling out on the other side as he loudly complains: “This is the last time we’re letting Spoiler drive.”
Steph’s costume is a little flame tattered too as she swings open the driving side and says: “I’d like to see you do better, asshole. At least it wasn’t like Signal’s first driving attempt.”
“Hey,” Duke exclaims, coming out of the car after Jason, looking a little banged up. “Just because I didn’t know where the missiles were, doesn’t mean it was terrible.”
“I didn’t eject anyone,” Steph pouts.
“Yes, you did!” Duke exclaims. “You very much did.”
“Well, not by accident,” Steph argues. “It was part of the plan.”
The other front door is now open and Cass is next to him. He puts an arm around her and pulls her into his cape. Then he decides to step in, because it seems the League doesn’t know what to do when they’re not viewed as an authority.
“What happened?” he asks.
Six heads snap his way, as if his kids had forgotten where they were. It wouldn’t be the first time, so he doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes.
Tim reports: “The Riddler broke out of Arkham, along with like a bunch of b-rate villains. They caused havoc, but we rounded them all up. Riddler took the time it took us to round them up to set up his trap. He went with a fire theme.”
“Is he contained now?” Bruce asks, a little concerned.
“Yeah, no problem, B, we got ‘em,” Steph assures him casually with a thumbs up.
“Sorry, uhm, excuse me, Batman, do you know these people?” Clark asks in that awkward, polite way of his.
Bruce contemplates for a second what he should answer. Then decides that he wants to know what happened and doesn’t want to deal with questions. So he just says: “My associates. Now report, how did you end up here?”
“Associates,” Jason snorts.
However, he is ignored by his siblings as Damian reports: “We have caught the Riddler, however we did so without solving the last of his riddles. So, he sprang his trap after we took him down and we became the target of some missiles.”
“Oh my god, are you okay?” one of the League members exclaims under their breath.
“Tt, of course we’re okay,” Damian spits back. “Unlike you, we have been trained.”
“And we learned our lesson; always solve all of Riddler’s riddles,” Steph grins, giving them all a thumbs up.
“I already said that, but who listens to Red Robin? Nobody,” Tim complains.
Before it can turn into a squabble fest again, Bruce clears his throat and Dick jumps in to get them back on track, explaining: “We tried to get away in the Batmobile, but we couldn’t outrun it forever. So we decided the best way to escape was to use the Zeta-Tube connection.”
“It was great, Spoiler sent replacement flying so he could put in the code,” Jason laughs.
“I wanted to beam us to the Cave, but with the amount of time we had, just taking us to the most recently used coordinates was smarter,” Tim explains. He checks his arm computer then says: “The chatter on the police coms is that the missile made impact where we disappeared. No one was in the area when it went off, but there is property damage. And a few of the new recruits are convinced we’re supernatural, since none of our remains are being found.”
That last bit gets a few laughs from the assembled vigilantes. Most of Gotham PD have resigned themselves to the fact that the protectors of Gotham are humans, who seemingly pull of the impossible from time to time.
However, there are always newer members, who come up with great conspiracies about how they aren’t human and that’s why they pull it off. Bruce knows that it’s a bit of a game between his kids to see who can get them to believe the weirdest shit about them.
So, he just lets them have the moment of amusement after what must have been a highly tense moment.
Then he asks: “Where is Bluebird?” since he hasn’t seen Harper among the crowd, which is weird, because she’s on the night shift, while Duke is on the day shift.
“She the one, who figured out where Riddler was and caught him,” Dick says proudly. “She was escorting him to Arkham when she noticed he was being off. Without her we would’ve never made it to the Batmobile on time.”
Bruce makes a mental note to thank her for saving his other kids when he sees her.
“We also let Oracle know we’re okay, so she can inform her and Batwoman when she gets back from her mission, just in case she saw the news,” Dick goes on.
“Wait,” they get interrupted by Hal. “How many more heroes are you going to pull out of your sleeve? What happened to Mr. I Work alone? Am I being crazy here? Why are you all just standing there?”
Clark says: “Well, it’s obvious Batman knows these people and they do not seem like a threat to us, so I was going to wait until they’d given a report before demanding answers.”
“And we will demand answers, Batman,” Diana adds, making Bruce swallow a little. “We are your friends, we hoped there would be some trust there. You seem to have a whole different team of warriors. That is something you share.”
“Don’t mind, B, he just comes with permanently built in paranoia, it’s nothing against you,” Dick tells them.
In the background, Jason snorts: “Did you hear that guys? We’re his team of warriors. His associates.”
Damian huffs at that: “These imbeciles obviously do not know what they are on about and I refuse to be referred to as such, when I am the blood son.”
“I don’t know, Robin,” Steph laughs. “It almost starts to feel like he cares. I mean, he obviously has been bragging about us.”
“He has not spoken a word about us,” Damian exclaims.
In the background, Bruce can feel a headache coming. He has tried to keep his kids away from the League for their own safety. They can’t use his kids against him, should they become compromised, if they don’t know they exist.
However, they do know now and not only that, it seems like his kids are here to cause trouble on purpose now that they finally get to meet, who they refer to as, ‘his work friends AKA the only friends he has’. Delightful.
Indeed, the League has picked up on the words Jason set Damian up for, because Hal repeats: “Blood son?”
And Clark frowns: “They do seem quite young.”
“Batman, are you employing babes to protect Gotham with you?” Diana exclaims in horror.
“I am highly trained, who dares to call me a baby,” Damian protests immediately and while his siblings would usually laugh at him, they now also feel offended.
All of them have had to defend their age to people, including Bruce. They don’t like being questioned. So all of them are falling over themselves to defend their position as protectors of Gotham.
Bruce decides to help them, explaining: “There are more teen heroes, most of you have or had a sidekick. These vigilantes keep each other safe, they have the safety of back up and I also provide good gear. They’re not running around without a clue of what to do.”
“Ahww, I knew you cared, old man,” Steph coos, while Cass taps a genuine thank you in Morse code on his arm.
“Batman, I appreciate that you look out of them, but most sidekicks have had superpowers that are related to one of the heroes and sought out a mentor to help,” Clark says gently. “You have no powers, where did you get these kids?”
And in hindsight, he should have known better than to hesitate. However, at the times, he does, because the circus, the streets, the neighbor’s and some villains, are not really good answers to that question, no matter how true. And he doesn’t know if he wants to explain.
Still, he has to admit that he melts slightly when Cass speaks up to say: “His kids.”
Plus, it’s kind of funny how most League member jump out of their skin at the sudden voice, since none of them had spotted Cass before. Not even those with superhuman senses. His daughter is so talented.
Arguably the funniest reaction is Hal, who shrieks: “Where the fuck did you get these kids, Spooky!” as he violently startles backwards.
However, Jason jumps on the opportunity, sending Bruce a shit eating grin before he does (he might still be wearing the helmet, but Bruce knows him). He says: “Well, when two people love each other very much, they-”
No, just no. Absolutely not.
The League already thinks him to be a bit of a weirdo, who is steeped in paranoia. They respect him, but they’re always a little wary of him too (which is good in a way, he doesn’t want them close to his secret identity with the threat they could pose). Still, he doesn’t want them to think he practically bred an army of shadow-y vigilantes to protect Gotham. He’d never live it down.
“Hood,” he quickly cuts Jason off, before he can continue with his nonsense. Then he tiredly reminds him: “You’re adopted.”
“WHAT!” Jason shrieks, ripping his helmet off to reveal a shocked and betrayed face even with his domino mask. “How could you keep that from me?”
It seems like everyone needs a second to recover and process after the outburst. However, Jason is gaining steam and dramatically barrels on: “For years. Years! I lived with you, you fed me, you cared for me. You are my dad. At least you were. Was that all a lie? Some ruse? How- Why- I deserved to know.”
Bruce is shocked, unable to form words. His relationship with Jason has been rough, though getting better. It’s still tentative, though, so to hear Jason refer to him as dad throws him off in one of the best ways. Until he realizes Jason is fucking with him.
Even then, it is kind of nice that Jason is messing with him. When he looks, he sees that Jason is having fun under the mask of betrayal. It doesn’t have a bitter undertone, like it would have a few months ago. Instead, it feels a little like all the times Jason messed with him in front of Commissioner Gordon, back when he was Robin.
So, later Bruce will cut himself some slack for basking in that feeling for long enough that the others catch on and join in.
It starts with Steph, who has never claimed him as her father a day in his life, but will always be committed to a bit. She sniffles: “I can’t believe you’d lie to our brother like that. Soon you’ll tell us we’re all adopted.”
“Spoiler,” Bruce warns, hoping to deter anyone else from joining in.
That doesn’t happen, instead, Dick pulls Duke into a hug and exclaims: “Yeah, next you’ll tell us Signal here isn’t our half brother, like you didn’t leave his mother at the altar.” He narrows his eyes and adds: “I was the flower boy too, I can’t believe you did that to her.”
He sees Duke’s calculating gaze, flitting between Dick and himself and knows it’s only a matter of time before he picks a side, so he grunts: “Signal, don’t-”
“She talked about it until her death. Don’t tell me she made it up,” Duke suddenly says, picking the side of his siblings. Bruce would be more glad about him getting along with them, if it weren’t for the fact that in joining him, he left Bruce.
“You monster,” Jason butts back in again, not having had the spotlight in too long. “Look what you’ve done. You can’t just drop something like that on us. You can’t just pull the rug out from under us. Adopted. Or am I the only one? Huh? Is that it? Are all of them your real kids except for me?”
It’s a little too close to home, so Bruce stumbles: “No, of course, you’re always my kid. But this isn’t news to you. To any of you.”
“So we are all adopted?” Tim shrieks, stumbling forwards to clutch Bruce’s arm. “Those people you took me away from, were they my real parents? Did you lie to me?”
And this is just unfair. They’re not allowed to gang up on him like this and be dramatic. They know he doesn’t know what to do when they get like this. He gave them a home, he kept them as safe as he could, he loves them. What has he done to deserve this?
Dick and Duke are still embracing each other and Bruce is pretty sure Dick is weeping. Steph is definitely fake crying, while Jason is consoling her. Tim is still clutching his one arm, babbling about being taken from his parents.
Cass is his favorite right now, because she isn’t playing along with her sibling, just quietly huddling into his side. Damian would share the spot, but Bruce knows that the only reason he isn’t playing along, is because he doesn’t know what their game is and how he can use it to his advantage.
Indeed, he joins in – though not entirely purposefully – because he asks: “Father, I am your true son right? I am the blood son, not these imbeciles.”
Jason is definitely hiding a snort as a sob and in that moment, Bruce is tempted to disown Damian, just so he doesn’t have to deal with all this.
He can see how shocked the Justice League is, their eyes wide with horror, none of them having truly recovered at the sudden appearance at a gaggle of kids, who are now seemingly breaking down over the surprise news of being adopted.
He should’ve just let Jason give the League a sex talk.
So, he is tempted to not recognize Damian as his own, however, he knows how much Damian values his heritage and how insecure he is about his spot in the family. And he does look genuinely worried about what’s happening. So, Bruce has to sigh and reward the vulnerability that he shows with compassion, saying: “Yes, Robin.”
Jason lets out a pained groan and says: “So it is true? We really are adopted?” then breaks down crying. It’s almost impressive how well he can sob on demand. How well all of them can, Bruce wonders when they learned that and who taught them that.
The League, meanwhile has also apparently reached their limits and Hal suddenly explodes: “Fucking hell, Bats. Is that how you’re telling them that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Around him all the others start to nod in agreement and Bruce knows that some of those shaking shoulders of his kids aren’t sobs but laughter at this point. He wonders if it’s wrong to return any of them, despite knowing that he would never give any of them up, even with all the gray hairs they’re giving him.
He does think about it though, especially when Clark cautiously says: “It seems unnecessarily cruel, Batman. They’ve just been chased through the streets by missiles. You could have waited.”
“Yes, it is very cruel,” Diana agrees. “And I do not know you to be cruel.”
Usually, Bruce has an image to maintain, but that image includes him working alone and having no sense of humor or humanity, so obviously it’s incorrect. Besides, any reputation he might have had has just been ruined by his kids. He doesn’t have to take this judgment from his friends.
So, he throws his hands up and, bordering on a whine, says: “I’m not cruel. They all know they’re adopted. All of them were over nine when it happened. Hell, not even all of them are adopted. Not all of them wanted to be. They know! They’re just messing with me.”
It’s quiet after his outburst.
Both the League and his kids blink for a few times. It’s clear that the League doesn’t know what to believe, but his kids are luckily done with the chaos. Though, Bruce doesn’t know if he’s happy with that when he sees some of their faces morph into grins.
Dick decides to put him out of his misery first, letting go of Duke to skip forwards and sling an arm around Bruce, which he grudgingly allows. He never says no to hugs from his kids, no matter what stunt they’ve just pulled.
“He’s right,” Dick smiles at everyone. Then he jokingly tugs on one of the ears on his cowl – something he has done since his early days as Robin – as he teases: “He didn’t mind. Right, B? You are a softie under there.”
“Who cares if he minds,” Jason says loudly. “That was hilarious, did you see everyone’s faces when replacement told them he’d stolen him out of his home. Golden. I’m gonna ask O for that footage the second we get back.”
Now the League is looking at them with even more confusion. Unsure of what to do now.
Bruce wants to let them suffer, but he also doesn’t want to give his kids room to do something else to embarrass him. So, he takes the reigns saying: “Just to clear it all up; this is Nightwing, my oldest.”
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Dick gives the League a bright smile.
“My second or third oldest – we’re not sure – Red Hood,” Bruce continues on, gesturing to Jason, who just gives them a salute. “And, again, the second or third oldest, Black Bat.” She waves at them, startling some again, since they’d forgotten she was there. Hm, they might have to do another stealth and awareness training day.
“This is Spoiler, she is not one of mine technically,” he continues on introducing everyone there.
Steph grins at all of them and says: “I eat his food and steal his money, but I’m not having him sign shit. All of the perks, none of the accountability.”
“And how you remind me of that,” Bruce sighs, before gesturing to Tim and saying: “This is Red Robin, my fourth kid. He is adopted, but also emancipated. And I did not steal him away from his parents.”
“Technically, he did, because they were kinda shitty, but only legally when they died,” Tim corrects, which is not necessary and Bruce will be answering questions about that for months. Judging by the smug look on his face, Tim knows.
Deciding not to engage for now, he moves on to Duke. “This is Signal, he is my ward. He normally works the day shift.”
“Hello,” Duke squeaks awkwardly.
“And this is Robin, he is the youngest,” Bruce finishes his introductions.
“I am the blood son of the Bat and the one true heir,” Damian exclaims proudly.
“Yeah, yeah, we know, brat,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You were once B’s sperm. Whoop-die-doo.”
Multiple faces contort at that, with Tim and Steph both exclaiming how gross that is and how he didn’t have to phrase it like that and how they never want to hear about Bruce’s sex life ever again in any way, shape, or form.
Hal comments: “Wait, you actually have a kid?”
Bruce fights the urge to facepalm as he deadpans: “Just a second ago, you were willing to believe I had seven or more, why do you seem surprised?”
That renders Hal speechless, which is good, because Bruce doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to check up properly on his kids, check up on Gotham, and be as far away from the League and their questions as he can.
So, he uses the silence to says: “Now, as interesting as this has all been, we are going home. I have a city to check on and kids to ground.”
All around him protests start up about how he either has no power over them and can’t ground them or that they’re too mature and well trained fro childish things such as grounding. But Bruce is great at tuning them out when needs must, so he types in the last of the Batcave coordinates and lets the Zeta-Tube take them home.
~~
A/N:
I love coming up with convoluted reasons of why the batfam would be in the Watchtower lmao
Also Alfred totally taught them to cry on command, knowing they would use it for evil <3
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