#Dick Having Reader

[shadows-writing-lounge]

Any possible way I could get Ganondorf sucking his partner's manhood & swallowing, then getting it from behind?

I tried to get this to a thousand words and was so close. I hope this is acceptable but if you wanted a more submissive Ganon I'll try again.

Content: BJ(receiving), doggy(giving). Use of the word cum, small top and big bottom? Implied power bottom/switch Ganondorf. Nonspecific/mixed interation of Ganondorf. I use Ganon and Ganondorf interchangeably here. Use lube my dudes. Overstimulation.

Reader Info:second person You/your pronouns,Dominant Reader, has a penis, masculine terms. Ambiguous race(hylian,gerudo, etcetera). Dick size not mentioned. Mentioned to curse but doesn't have dialogue.

3rd Person(He/Him) Will link when finished.

_

It didn't take much convincing to have the Gerudo King kneeling between your thighs. You don't quite recall the words nor how you said them but they must of been persuasive for him to be this eager. Despite his large strong hands on your hip and thigh, and the fact you know he could easily flip the roles, you felt irreparably in control. One hand gripping the sheets beneath you, the other slipping its fingers into his vermilion hair. You then tug, pulling his head forward. Ganondorf is stubborn, patient and enjoying your displeasure at being teased. He relents to only tease your tip one last time. Circling his tongue around the crown, licking across the slit before sucking. You sigh relieved as he closes his lips around your cockhead. Now he doesn't mind you guiding his head it's just something to tease you with later. His amber eyes never looking away from your face as he takes your cock to the root and pulls back to the tip.

Fair enough to you, as your eyes don't move his form. It was in the rare moments Ganondorf wasn't guarded, his hair wasn't up nor was he suited in his armor. Instead clothed in loose fabrics that accentuates his body showing each flex of muscle underneath. A plus is that you know just how easy it is to just slip those off. An ease akin a tissue paper wrapped present.

Your breathes and soft sounds as well the lewd wet noises of a mouth working your cock are the only sign to any passing underling to what's happening. Feeling your thighs tense under his hands he increases his efforts at the sensitive parts of your manhood. Ganon smirks as you curse, your cock giving a telltale throb. You buck, rut and roll your hips into Ganon's awaiting mouth. A few thrusts in and your cock spasms once dry, second pumping your cum as far as your length reached.

Ganondorf waits for to finish painting his throat before he pulls back letting fall from his lips as he stands up. Catching your breath you watch through half lidded eyes as he slowly slipped his robe off letting you trail your eyes over any newly exposed flesh. The fabric falls to the floor revealing him in his entirety. His chiseled physique, strong broad shoulders, down his torso the thick happy trail leading your eyes to his own manhood. You know he's aroused but the pure weight and size makes him hang. Ganondorf's voice pulls your attention back to his face.

"Surely you have more to offer then that," his deep baritone might be enough to get you going again by itself. He doesn't wait for your answer for he already knows it. You get off the bed quickly, amusing Ganon by your eagerness. You move into position gently brushing his hair off of his back seeing the scars lined across the skin. They were a few shades darker than the rest of his skin. You press a kiss against a prominent scar causing Ganondorf to tense beneath you before relaxing. He's still unused to tender touches like this. You press your fingers against his ass slowly pressing in at first. Your free hand moves to stroke yourself the rest of the way erect. You don't take you time not this session at least, maybe once he's more comfortable with soft touches you'll go slow. Possibly make love, but now it's not what your king wants from you. You have to judge of it's enough. Removing your fingers and lining your cockhead to his entrance only his own saliva lubricating your cock. You push forward as far as you can your body pressing against his firm buttocks. Your hands against his waist as you lean your weight onto him so you have some leverage to move your hips against his.

You leisurely speed up your thrusts with each smack of your hips. You push against Ganon's back he complies and arches his back for you. Your hands now on his hips as he holds up his torso with fold arms. Now able to push deeper from the vantage point you made you rut against his ass trying to find the best angle. You settle for now and focus on fucking into the large man. It felt great with him under you. This close you could really take in the angles and curves of his body. Makes you feel strong with such a powerful king under you.

Your hands on his hips guide them in movement with your trusts allowing you to hit harder inside. Ganondorf occasionally looks over his shoulder at you noticing either how focused or blissed out you are. He's clearly amused by how hard you're trying to be rough with him. Din deemed him the most powerful for a reason after all.

Thrusts grow slightly sloppy as you near your second climax. You feel the build up, tingles running up your spine originating from your cock brushing against Ganon's insides. Your grip on his hips tightens. Ganondorf doesn't need the warning he knows the signs.

"Go on, give me it all. It's want you want isn't it?" You're unsure if Ganondorf's tone is mocking or genuinely encouraging but you're too close to really care.

Ganondorf feels you tense against him before you cum. Not quite as much as the first time. The king seems to drain you like that. You try to continue moving as you climax until it's too much. Pulling your sensitive cock from him staining the sheets with the last remnants of your second orgasm.

You ground yourself post orgasmic bliss as Ganondorf moves guiding you down onto the bed where he laid.

"You can go again, dear? For your king," Ganondorf says it in more of a command than a request. You know you can simply decline but who are you to deny the Dark Lord his due?

[sky-is-the-limit]

𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚐, 𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚘, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚎, 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚞𝚜, 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕, 𝚍𝚊𝚗��𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚞𝚜𝚑, 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚙, 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚡 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚐 𝚞𝚙, 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 𝚞𝚙, 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑, 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎.

(gif cred: @itspapillonnoir)

[aceissomunster]

discowing + jaybin ! press for quality

txtless + ref under the cut

ignore my horrible art please i drew this on ibis paint x with my finger and the soft felt tip pen brush. and my crappy penmanship.

[hyperballart]

art has the shortest refractory period you’ve ever witnessed—and while it is a blessing most of the time, you need a break. he and patrick had just finished fucking you, one in your ass and the other in your pussy. you love taking them both but it drains you, so much so that when art gets hard ten minutes after such a strong orgasm and starts humping at your thigh from where you’re squished between him and patrick you whine at him. “leave me alone”, and art grumbles a bratty response without halting his hips, “need to cum again, please let me just one more time—“. patrick is watching in amusement but it’s cut short when you tell art to just fuck him instead, you’re too tired.

and they’re good boys, so they listen. in a sequence of events patrick is face down on all fours while art ruts into him from behind. you pick up a book and mindlessly let them go at it, carding through patrick’s thick curls while he moans lewdly. you act like they’re not even there on the same bed, like the headboard isn’t slamming against the wall. art keeps spitting out small curses and mentioning how tight patrick is, and of course he’s too smug not to respond, “come on donaldson, stop being a pussy and fuck me right,” and it riles him up just enough.

in a minute art starts thrusting him more vigorously, pushing his head down on the pillows and then gripping his hips to pound into him. what had started off as just quick humping of art’s cock into patrick had transformed into this animalistic scene. patrick’s arms had long given up on him, he’s just moaning nonsense loudly with his eyes closed smushed against the pillow. you continue petting his hair for moral support while art takes everything out on him, “this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?,” patrick makes out a loud uh huh, fuck yeah and art laughs, “look at you, can’t even speak. all fucked dumb on this dick—that’s right, take it.”

patrick’s limp hand trails down to stroke himself frantically , “fuck, fuck—keep going right there. that fucking spot—oh shit—art i’m gonna—“ and even after he spurts out his release art isn’t letting up. he doesn’t care how much whining the boy under him is doing, he needs this.

so for the next two rounds art has in him, you’ll just have to pet and wipe tears off of pat’s blissed out face, you’ll worry about the puddle under him later.

[acid-ixx]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Reader shows just a tiny amount of happiness to any one of the batfam, and the next thing you know they try their best to make Reader to do it again.

Example:

Dick:Makes a silly joke

Reader: Actually smiles and laughs at it

Dick: gloats about it to the fam

The BatFam: practically on all fours chasing after Reader to try and make them laugh

Don’t stress out with your writings (btw love your ‘again & again’ series❤️)

Take your time and don’t forget to drink water🫶🫶🫶

laughter is the best medicine

ft. yan! dick grayson, jason todd, and damian wayne

— masterlist !

more beneath the cut ! fluff ? with a mix of yandereness is my thing hehe. i love this ask sm <3 you guys are being fed well today !!!

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

ugh they're the definition of giving someone an inch and they'll be taking a mile. it would especially be annoying if it were dick on the receiving end of the line. but even if he'd be the one you'd take most precaution to, don't underestimate just how much your opinion holds the most value in the family. so they'll most definitely gloat about their achievement of making you smile or hell, even leaning against their shoulder willingly calls for a celebration.

trust me when i say that living in a stuffy manor already sucks, and they don't exactly like seeing you sulk and merely rot in your bed all day. so like any loving family would do, they'll try their damn best to at least see a quirk of your mouth or that faint glimmer in your that dick oh-so enchantingly talk about.

so it comes to them in the form of a surprise that one day, when your oldest brother accidentally trips over one of your expensive novelty ballpen, instead of nearly shouting at him for breaking one of your favorites, it was the "oomph!" sound his throat makes and his wide eyes when his ass directly landed on the floor that makes you crack into small giggles.

if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, dick would've crossed out your laughter as a hallucination, a product of imagination, something entirely impossible to produce, but no.

he had proven himself wrong.

once he turns back at you, he sees the crinkle of your eyes and your palm trying to cover your shit eating grin. the plump of your cheeks are so accentuated that he forgets the initial embarrassment he feels in the first place, replaced with awe at just how artfully captivating his sibling looks; sitting by

it's like a painting, he wishes it was. he wishes tim would be quick enough to capture the succession of your smiles in the live camera feed.

all because he couldn't believe it. couldn't believe that his baby bird is laughing. they're laughing and they look so mirthful and full of life when doing so.

yes, you're laughing at him, at his stupidity for being unable to detect a mere ballpen despite being trained to locate every known obstacle in a field.

but fuck, he was already raised at a circus to fulfill the role of an acrobat who entertains the crowd. what more could it be if that means he could play the role of a clown for you, his baby bird worth more than a thousand lives, whose laughter is equivalent to the immense euphoria that is filling his entire being?

give him an inch and he'll take an entire mile.

the next day, you'd be greeted with... a lot of peculiar instances within your family. all of which you would laugh at because it's not typical that your family displays mistakes, and you feel a bit better about yourself when their imperfections seem to seep out of their being— or maybe it's just your thoughts eating you up again, because is it just you or did jason, tim, and even damian, manage to at least trigger a reaction out of you?

tim would accidentally end up drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth. his cringing expression, choked gargling and immense spitting is enough to guarantee a light chuckle from your seated form as you ate your cereal in peace, watching him as he tries to rid of the bitter taste on his tongue. although, bitter as it may, the sweetness and the aching of his tooth overpowers the regret he fills for gulping an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat.

he's so glad that he had set up multiple cameras and recorders at different angles prior to your time spent with him because he just couldn't stop watching your reaction in loop whilst he tried to continue his investigations within gotham's latest crime news. yet no matter how hard he attempts to control himself, his eyes couldn't stop looming over to your form, finding your reaction too incredibly cute to be ignored. yeah, he'll do his duties later. for now, he just needs to... screenshot every single frame of your expressions.

jason isn't much of a joker but when reading you one of your favorite stories, he had managed to mispronounce one of the words so badly that it ruined the narrative of the classical book he was voice acting for you. it was a stupid thing to laugh at, but for a guy like jason, who was an english nerd in his very prime, it would be hilarious— especially when his gothamite accent seeps into his vocabulary; which is very unbefitting for the voice of a character who was a princess that loves to wear frilly, pink dresses.

imagine a man, with a growl that vibrates through his skull, and muscles that bulge through his shirt, voices a princess of all people! his high pitched register for the character was already grating to your ears, but the sudden shift from an airy and girlish to deep and gruff with an added effect of a voice crack at the word "cake" was enough to let you burst out into laughs, your giggles echoing through the comfortable silence of the manor's library. for the first time in a while, you let jason wrap his arms around your shoulder, asking for your input about his tremendous acting skills.

jason never had many moments to cherish within the manor, preferring to stay over and outside of bruce's radar, but god does he love going through the batcave's live feed just to zoom in on your expressions, the grin on your face heavily reminds him of himself, back when he was the oblivious robin with no idea of what was coming to him. yet only now, he swears to protect your smile from never faltering.

damian takes his artistry skills seriously, constantly making a show of bragging to you whenever he has the opportunity to. but this time, he was incredibly pissed at drake for accidentally squeezing all the paint from the tube of oil paints he had stored by the drawers, and it was a shade closest to your skin tone, too; he meant to use that tube of paint for his next portrait of you. so like the petty child he is, damian sets on an hour long routine of drawing tim with monstrous features that screams the opposite of what he sports.

that means he had drawn multiple variants of tim with a hideous, actual bowl cut one. no seriously, his hair was a bowl and the strands that peeked out of it were spaghetti strands. in another drawing, his red robin outfit consists of plucked feathers and an elongated beak for its mask, what seems to be the pocket for the eyes now replaced with cat-like slits that makes the vigilantes expression looker idiotic and downright stupid. yet it felt therapeutic for damian to draw that his brother with what he felt was enough revenge to exact upon drake. that scum deserved a horrendously made portrait of him.

what he didn't expect was that you had stumbled upon his atelier, wanting to cure your boredom by painting a scenery when all of a sudden you had to drop all your equipment from your hands because... what the fuck was damian painting...? why is tim crawling across the floor in one of the portraits...? it takes a second or two for you to register the drawing's very detailed portrayal of a literal bowl cut, your laughter bursting out of the seams because no fucking way did damian actually draw something so hilarious and unserious. if you were anybody else, damian would've kicked your shins so violently you would've required a visit to the hospital. but because it's you... he chooses to sulk in the corner with puffed cheeks and burning ears as you approach the painting with said curiosity of a child and a laughter you can't stifle so easily.

at least it got you to stay in the same room as him for about an hour, with you giving your youngest brother more ideas to make the drawings even more unsettling than they already were, to which damian takes your tips to heart.

after you had eagerly (and shyly) showed the entire family you and damian's shared creation of a monstrosity, tim swears he'll never squeeze a tube of damian's paint anymore.

[laroserie]

i love the idea of joining the batfam by dating bruce, but can you imagine how awkward it must be ?

like you are dating bruce, you most probably know he is batman (he couldn't date seriously someone and never tell them) which is like a huge thing, you probably knew each others for at least 5 years and dated for at least 2 before you even step foot in his house and even then ! you still have never meet any of his adopted kids, he always has a way of avoiding The meeting.

of course - you know who his kids are, bruce is ... literally the it guy of gotham, you very much know the names and faces of his family - but that's it (now if you know their vigilantes identities is different story)

the question is, are they aware of your existence ? (of course alfred is aware; that out of the question, he followed to development of yours and bruce relationship from a to z)

going more for a no, not at the start, bruce has this clumsy dumb bilionaire personality but he probably could not like for you to receive media attention because he doesn't wish for your privacy to be intruded upon because you are dating (now there may have been one instance where the paparazzi took a picture of you and him together, but they could only see you from the back, or your face wasn't visible for whatever reason). they probably learnt about your existence very late into your relationship with bruce, and it's surely by accident, like, one of them see a message from you to bruce (and it's something probably something very cheesy) when he left it somewhere by inadvertence. and depending on who see that, they either fully open bruce's phone (sorry but they all know his phone password, bruce isn't aware of that tho) and read your conversation or they find some others way to have access to his messages with you (that isn't so blatant).

they for sure, do an 'emergency' meeting about it (dick and damian were the two that really wanted to do one, the rest probably don't care that much at that time, they probably think you are just the fling of the month for bruce - well usually the fling of the month is not that ... cheesy with him ? in their messages, and the conversations aren't usually that long ... nor do they go back that much. but whatever ! they do suddenly notice that it's been a while, since, well the last fling of the month of bruce but, it must just be a coincidence) which end up with them keeping tabs on you, just in case

now, you meeting them could happen in two way

either they are the one to meet you first - they don't want to wait for bruce to formally introduce you to them - or them to you. the one that 'lead' this is for sure damian, he is determinate to find out your intention with his father (and fight you), dick will lie and say he is just there to make sure everything go 'well' but he is just genuinely very curious about you and the fact that you are dating bruce - this can go for most of them, tho cass and tim are probably the one that are the most reticent to meeting you ? but nevertheless, they still are here, because they for sure won't let damian and dick have all the 'fun'. now jason, is probably also coming for the shit and giggle.

or you meeting them could happen because of bruce - deciding that it's finally time you meet his kids, so he invite all of them to dinner telling them he was someone he wants them to meet, and telling you explicitly that he wants you to meet his family (and the people that are part of his family but aren't family family) - of course, he could talk about it with you first, he could never force you into that. the meet - dinner, probably do not go in the way bruce hoped for it to go (but truth be told, he wasn't expecting it to go the way he wished it did). it's not awful, nothing bad happen. it's just awkward. one of them (probably jason) let slip that they already knew about you - damian make it very clear that he doesn't accept you (and dick has to try to diffuse the situation and tell you that damian is just joking - damian is not joking and he gives a death glare to dick), tim probably do not say anything of half of the dinner before asking you a weird question about something he should have no information about (like what's up with one of your weird habit / quirk), cass is just silent - she assess you for the entirety of the dinner (she conclude by the end of it that you quite a nice person and that she likes you quite a bit), duke is very kind and is very polite with you (he is a bit apprehensive and isn't sure why he is there but he figures it's because bruce wanted to have at least one regular person treating you normally - dick is too ... enthusiastic for that role)

at the end of said dinner, when bruce is driving you home, it's probably the most silent ride home you have ever experienced. until you burst out laughing - the dinner was probably the funniest shit you experienced. it felt like it came straight out of a shitty tv show with 14 seasons. sure it was very much awkward but still funny ! you reassure bruce that it was fine, though you could have liked a warning.

and ... you can add a yandere twist on it, and i love yandere so ... . some of them (tim and cass and probably dick) could start developing yandere tendencies when they learn of your existence ( and keep 'tab on you' aka stalks you and learn everything they can about you ), the others (damian and jason + eventually steph and duke even though they are probably some of waaay lesser yandere-y yandere) could start becoming like that after they finally meet you in person. damian could be the one to take the most or less time to become attach on you, it depend, but he could go thru a big phase of 'i refuse for you to replace talia, my mother, therefor i will despite your entire existence' but if you try to get closer to him, this phase will end very soon and his barrier melt away, if you want to let him take his time to accept you, the result will be the same but damian will try to make up for the time he hated you.

and of course, yandere bruce could be so happy for you to like / get to know and get closer to his family, and that's one more way he can tie you to him !

[reds-hoodies]

How would Bruce, Dick, and Jason kiss your hand?

Bruce:

Sweet and domestic

sitting at the table during breakfast, he’s reading the morning paper when he brings your hand to his lips and brushes a kiss to your knuckles

He doesn’t even think about it, Like it was second nature to him

He’ll smile softly at you then return his focus to the paper before him, all the while his thumb traces where he kissed you

Dick:

Playful

Whether you’re out at a gala or alone in your apartment, he’ll kiss the back of your hand as if you were royalty.

His gaze would flick up to your own, his lips still pressed to you and you feel him smile almost mischievously against you

The next few minutes are exaggerated gestures and dramatic kisses up your arm until you’re giggling and trying to push him away

Jason:

Intimate

You're sitting in his lap as he kisses the palms of your hands softly

Then he brushes his lips over your wrist before he places them on his cheeks so you can cradle his face

he takes a long, deep breath. Your foreheads touch and he closes his eyes.

You can see and feel all the weight and pressure he's put on himself slowly lift from his shoulders.

You both sit there for a while

[erinwantstowrite]

thinking about them atm (couldn't focus while writing so i had to doodle)

[sematarygirls]

rafe would be so FED UPPPPP with you constantly saying your "girl dick" is hard. like, you see a recipe for an absolutely orgasmic looking dessert, and you're like, "oh yeah, my dick hard rn." or, you meet up with rafe, and he's wearing one of those slutty little shirts that CLING to his muscles and have you practically salivating and you're like "i just popped a boner." he would get sooooo pissy every time and be like "cut that shit out. people are gonna think you're serious," but you just love saying it so much because it's so fun and saying "im wet" just does not have the same ring to it (plus annoying him is a major bonus).

[ebodebo]

I'm dreamin' 'bout silver and gold

—getting jealous over dick talking to a girl at bruce's new year's eve party... MDNI

You stood in the corner of the Wayne Manor ballroom, quietly sipping a glass of champagne at Bruce's New Year’s Eve celebration.

The drink had an unexpectedly dry taste as you observed the scene unfolding before you. There was Dick, your charming boyfriend, effortlessly chatting with none other than a senator's daughter.

You shouldn't feel this way.

You trusted Dick completely, but that minx with her perfectly manicured fingers and captivating smile was a different matter altogether.

You just couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off.

You felt the tight hands twist your insides like a relentless ivy, tightening with each lingering touch and laugh that wasn't meant for her.

Your last straw was when she lowered her head and casually mentioned her father's purchase of a new beach house in the Hamptons, suggesting he should come to stay for a few days loud enough for you to hear.

Christ's sake, did she just wink at him? She did.

Your feet are moving faster than your brain can process. As you glide past them, Dick calls your name, but you ignore him and keep walking. Suddenly, you feel a slight tug at the back of your dress, which causes you to lean back and spill champagne all over it.

"Oh dear. It seems you've spilled a little," the minx says, peering over her champagne glass, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

Dick speaks with deep concern, reaching out his hands toward you. “Baby,” he utters.

You feel tears welling up as you realize people are staring. Before more embarrassment sets in, you turn on your heels and hurry out of the ballroom towards the bathroom.

Dick is closely pursuing you as you speed toward the door, calling your name. You don’t look back, simply pushing the door open and slamming it in his face, twisting the lock to prevent his entry.

You run your fingers through your hair to calm yourself as Dick fiddles with the doorknob. "Dick, stop," you say, a little more harshly than intended.

“Let me in. What's going on, sweetheart?" He asks worriedly, still fiddling with the doorknob. "I'm not leaving until I see you.”

You remain resolute, grabbing a handful of paper towels and soaking them in water to try to remove some of the champagne from your dress.

He grunts while fiddling with the doorknob. "Jason and I have done ten-hour stakeout missions, Sweetheart. I can wait it out," he confidently states.

You let out a deep sigh as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Perhaps you were upset with him, but you were mostly embarrassed that one girl could have your head in such a tailspin. You needed some comfort.

You reluctantly reach for the doorknob and fling it open, revealing Dick standing on the other side.

“Oh, honey,” he coos softly, noticing your smeared mascara and swollen eyes. He steps closer, resting his hand on the back of your head and laying you against his chest.

"You’re going to ruin your suit," you say, referring to the mascara stains that will definitely be left behind.

"I'll get a new one," he says casually, his fingers running through your hair to comfort you.

You both stand there for a moment as he whispers sweet words into your ear, and you continue to cry on his chest.

You're the first to pull away, your eyes looking down at your now-stained dress. "Sorry, I, uh, ruined the dress," you awkwardly shuffle away.

“It wasn’t your fault. Don't worry," he reassured, threading his fingers through yours. "I'm sure Barb has something you can wear.”

"She won’t mind?" You timidly ask as he leads you to the guest room, where Barb keeps her overflow of dresses.

"She'd kill me if I didn't let you borrow one of them," he chuckles, leading you to the bedroom door.

Once inside, he helps you sit at the edge of the bed while he searches through Barb's gowns.

"What color?" He prompts.

You think for a moment. "Blue."

He hums. "Like music to my ears."

You chuckle softly, tugging at the hem of your dress as Dick selects a shimmering blue dress from the rack.

“So," he said encouragingly, "tell me what upset you.”

Your eyes lock onto his, and your lips purse. "Well, I—" you start, abruptly pausing and feeling bashful.

He tilts his head to the side, the corner of his lip quirking. "Since when have you ever been nervous around me? Tell me," he prods, laying the dress next to you on the bed.

“I guess I just felt a little... you know,” you say, raising your hands as if to dismiss the question.

He takes your hand in his. "No, I don't know. Go on."

You grip his hand tighter and playfully roll your eyes. "Jealous.”

He opens his mouth slightly but quickly shuts it again.

“I mean, can you really blame me? She wanted you, Dick," you ramble. "I’ve never seen a woman flirt so openly and blatantly with a guy already taken." Suddenly, you stand up and pitch your voice higher, mimicking her, “"You fill out that suit nicely, Dickie! Who says that? Who says that?"”

Dick laughs. He laughs. 

"I'm upset, and you're laughing! Laughing!" you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest.

He stands, his hands coming to rest on your elbows, gently rubbing them. "I'm only laughing because you have nothing to be jealous of. You're perfect, baby. I only want you. You're my perfect girl," he coos lowly.

You merely hum in response, turning your head away from him.

“Do you need me to show you how much I love you?" His voice dropped an octave. "Show you that you're my perfect girl?

You squeal as he pulls you so you're flush against his chest, his hands moving to caress the back of your neck, leaning his head down so his lips skim the side of your neck.

"Tell me," he goads. "Tell me, Baby."

"Dick...we can't. The party—" Your protest dies on your tongue as his tongue slides across your sizzling skin. Your hand moves to thread through his hair, hoping to gain a little stability. 

"Fuck the party," he murmurs into your skin, nipping your sensitive skin a little with his canines. You let out a pathetic whine, gripping him tighter. "Let me show you," he almost begs, his voice hoarse. 

"Please."

You pull his face from your neck, guiding his lips to yours to kiss them with firey intensity. "Show me, Dick. Show me," you mutter into his lips with much anguish. 

He hums a sound of approval as he grips you tighter, tongue sliding in your mouth. You continue the fervent exchange, tongues battling, teeth clashing, and greedy hands moving to grip any skin they can.

"Get on the bed," Dick croaks into your mouth.

You hurriedly move to lay on the bed as Dick grips your ankles and pulls you toward the edge so your legs hang off. 

"Gonna make you feel so good, Baby," he mumbles, dropping to his knees and pushing up the tool of your dress so it pools around your waist. His lips skim from your ankle, up your calf, to your inner thigh, where he plants deep kisses that have you squirming.

His fingers move to shove your panties to the side, moving his head to prod his tongue into your cunt. You whine at the action, bringing your hand to thread through his hair.

"Only want this pussy," he mutters into you, tongue lapsing around your clit. "Fuckin' made for me."

He grips your thighs so his biceps rest under the hinge of your knee, pulling you closer to roll your clit between his teeth.

"Dick," you moan out, writhing under him.

"What, Baby? Feel good," he grumbles, massaging your thighs with his hands. 

You nod fervently, unable to speak.

He continues rolling and flicking at your clit until you grip his head tightly, pushing him where you need him until your arousal coats his tongue and lips.

He makes sure to leave you sparkling clean with the help of his tongue. 

He pulls your dress back down only when he's completely done, moving to lay next to you, pulling you close so you rest on his chest.

It's silent for a moment before you hear the beginning of what sounds like a countdown.

3...

2...

1...

'Happy New Year!'

You hear the party downstairs yell. 

You look up at Dick, whose eyes are already on you. "Happy New Year, Dickie," you murmur, smiling. 

"Happy New Year, Baby," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your head.

Best New Year ever. 

a/n: first dick fic feeling horny💔

reblogs & comments encouraged!

[shadows-writing-lounge]

Ganondorf General Horny Headcanons Peen Edition

Content: dick having reader, you/your pronouns, Reader described as smaller than Ganondorf. Sparse bodily mentions. Kinks from the first post apply. Warnings show up as needed.

Ganondorf size, kinks and Gender Neutral Reader

Pussy Having Reader Version

Terms used: dick, cock, chest, bosom,

~~~

Ganondorf appreciates his partner's form regardless of their assets. He doesn't go out of his way to make it known though the floodgates open of you where to ask about it.

The curves and lines of your body. Any definition of muscle or smooth area of fat. He squeezes your hips, thighs, stomach and chest, saying everything he loves about them and what he'd do to them if you let him.

After he's done with everything else he'll have you on his lap as he touches the cock between your legs. Pulling your legs apart to have more space for his big calloused hands. His hands tease the sensitive skin of your inner thighs before cupping your arousal. Praising you for being so excited and receptive for him.

Not up to penetration? Feel free to rub your cock against his cock. Even if he's soft, feel it grow hard under your ministrations. Thighjobs and assjobs welcome.

CW: Mentions of the chest. If you have chest dysphoria or dysmorphia please skip to the next red word. There also mentions of marking and hickies on the skin.

If you show insecurity about your chest. Small or large it does matter. He tells you to press your bosom against his erection. This erection is just for you. He cums where you want he has plenty to spare.

He'll take his time with your chest. If you're able to come from nipple stimulation be prepared for it to be exploited.

If you're able to visibly bruise he'd mark the flesh of your chest with bruises, hickies and bites. If you ask him to stop he'll relent.

Hylian

CW: Exhibitionism and possibly objectification? Go to the bolded word to skip.

Teases you about the nature of your relationship. Forsaking your race to be with him. A traitor, heretic even. Maybe he should dress you up pretty and parade you around. Looking only, please. Don't touch.

Nonetheless. He enjoys the mirth from it. Specially the size difference so easy to hold and to move. An almost mocking bite to the tip of your pointed ear before deciding you're properly prepared to take him.

Other Hylians might not be allowed to touch but if you're up to it the Gerudo ladies would be up to discovering the differences of Hylians and Gerudo anatomy. He doesn't trust most of the men under his rule but that doesn't mean he can't conquer up some phantoms just for your use.

Gerudo

Note: Heavily implied to be AMAB. Reader is strong.

A single Gerudo male is born circa one hundred years. This son is by law the king.

With this in mind it's obvious why Ganondorf choose to have you by his side. Two Gerudo kings ruling together. That's just history writing itself. Ganondorf also doesn't mind that his partner can easily lift him.

Maybe take turns deciding who's topping tonight but wrestling. First pinned is the bottom. Maybe first 2/3.

-

I didn't have as many thoughts about this as I thought.

[messenger-of-babel]

If I Could Turn Back Time

Summary: Dick wishes he could turn back time, anything to win you back. (Dick Grayson x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: I'm baaacck~! I'm gonna filter out some posts for y'all in between work and prepping for a Christmas countdown. I hope that y'all in the northern hemisphere are enjoying the winter months, and that the heat is manageable for the rest of us in the southern. Hope I didn't make anyone wait too long, and thank you for being patient!

~RiRi <33

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Dick Grayson swore that he wasn't as big of a romantic as people made him out to be. After your breakup he had returned to the manor, unwilling to commit to the long drive back to Bludhaven. He milled around the kitchen, face sullen, telling a concerned Alfred he was just too tired to make the trip and didn't want to drive in the dark. He didn't tell him that he was worried that the image of you crying at the kitchen sink would distract him so badly that he'd either crash or turn back to see you.

He defended himself when Jason came by to drop something off for Bruce and catching the eldest in a state of disarray and blatant bedhead, shambling around in the living room. The younger man rolled his eyes and scoffed, striding past him.

"She break up with you?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"I broke up with her." He said softly. "But I'm fine." he waved off, taking another sip of his coffee.

"You're an idiot." Jason sighed, kissing his teeth and shaking his head as he strode past in heavy footfalls.

He swore that he was able to move on. That it had been for your best interest. It had only been fourteen days, six hours and twenty-three minutes since he'd driven away. Now he was banging his head against the steering wheel, stuck in the late afternoon traffic between Bludhaven and Gotham. He had the persistent itch under his skin to pull out the suit, weave his way through traffic on his bike just so he could get back to you faster. But he knew that was an abuse of his identity, and could raise some pretty heavy eyebrows from Bruce and even Clark if they found out he took the suit just for a house call.

So, he sat there, stewing in his own thoughts. The late sunset flickered off the water and into the interior of his car. His bangs fluttered with a heavy exhale; hands sweaty as they tapped a mindless rhythm on the wheel. He wished he had a clock that wasn't just the digital numbers of the car display. A clock where he could turn back time.

He'd turn it back to your first date, where you both spent hours wandering the park in Gotham. You had dressed up nicely for a picnic, and it was like you had just walked out of the greenery. The only thought that Dick had while watching you that afternoon was how stunning you looked, so natural in the park with a beaming smile. He had seen Poison Ivy in all of her glory, and her deep connection with the green. If he didn't know better, he would have thought you were born of nature the same way, the way you seemed so in tune with the scenery.

You had surprised him by adjusting your clothes with a cheeky grin and racing hand and hand with him through the park, weaving in and out of the trees with a beaming smile. He had to catch his breath from the way you stole it from under him, taking him to what you had dubbed your 'favourite tree'.

"Why is this one your favourite?" he had asked, hands on his hips and eyebrows quirked. You cast him a glance over your shoulder, looking at him like it should be obvious. Fingers deftly pried your feet from your shoes and you tossed them aside, walking in front of him. "Because it's the best for climbing, of course." you chided, like he was silly for even asking. Swiftly, you proceeded to hoist your way into the low hanging branches, graceful as you traced a path you clearly knew. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander, heart warming oddly. As if he was no longer in control, he reached down to undo his own shoes, hands running along the rough bark before pulling himself up after you.

Being a vigilante and circus performer, the movements themselves were easy enough, but despite all of his training he didn't even move with a fraction of your ease. When he caught up you were already nestled in a nook, leaning against a thick branch. You looked at him, late sunset beginning to flicker across the angle of your face. The golden light made your eyes glow, and you wore a soft, lazy smile, like a cat lounging on a bough. "Made it, I see." you hummed playfully, and he huffed.

"Was I not supposed to?" he quipped back, pulling himself up so he could sit next to you. You just shake your head, eyes closing with a gentle smile. "Not 'not supposed to', you've just been the first to follow. Normally my dates either just wait at the bottom or leave. No one really tries to come up, and the ones that do usually struggle to make it this far."

Dick shrugged, heart fluttering as he pushes his hair back with a hand. "Well, I'm used to this kind of the thing."

You give him a sceptical glance and he laughs. "The circus." He explains.

You grin. "Explains the runaway vibe."

"Hey!" he protests, hand to his heart. "I was raised there, thank you very much."

He spent so long up there he didn't realise you had been talking at the top of the tree for hours until the sunset began to filter into dusk, lost in the view of Gotham city park and its skyline.

Well, you might have been. He was too busy watching the way your mouth moved when you spoke or what actions your hands made when you spoke.

The second place that he would turn back time is the day he left you.

He'd take back every emotional scar he lashed you with, every word that cut into the soft flesh of your heart. He'd go back in an instant to pick up the pieces of you that he shattered, stop them from falling into the sink alongside your tears. He wouldn't have left the moment that your broken voice had asked him to leave, to give you space. He'd trade anything to have you in his arms again, to shush you and mumble his apologies into your hair.

The same apologies he was rehearsing to himself as he inched forward in the traffic for two painstaking hours. He practiced the cadence of his sentences by tapping them into his leg as he jogged up the stairs to your apartment. He steeled himself for a slap, a hiss, a scathing remark that would likely greet him when, no, if, you opened the door to him. He'd bear anything you threw at him, as long as he didn't have to see you cry. When you didn't respond to his knuckles rapping against the door, he sucked his teeth. Maybe you were out? Maybe you were ignoring him? He wouldn't blame you if you did.

Frustrated, he kicked the door frame, head thudding onto the door. He didn't know how to keep a relationship alive, if he was being perfectly honest. He had been enamoured with Kory, but the flame they had fizzled out. He and Babs had ended as natural as you could manage between coworkers. Yet, both of them had both ended the same way deep down. The anger that he failed to let go of deep inside that came out when he truly let himself be vulnerable. The little boy in his heart with his little fists clenched so tightly onto that ball of rage. The anger and hurt of losing his parents. It was a ball that Bruce and Alfred had managed to lessen, managed to pry those young fingers off little by little and helping him to redirect it, but it was never fully gone.

All it took was one relationship argument that carried on for a little too long or burned a little too hot, and that little ball moved into his throat. The fear would shake in his hands again, that there was always the possibility that he'd lose them too. Dick Grayson wouldn't really call himself a romantic. He was just someone who always fell in love, who made the person he was with always fall into him without a safety net.

Then, he'd push them off that tightrope, and he'd flee.

Irritated with himself he practiced breathing techniques to calm himself, unclenching his fists and unhunching his shoulders from his ears. He wanted to fix this. For you. For him. For that little boy holding onto that little ball of hurt. He waited another fifteen minutes before he jogged back to his car. He worried his lip in between his teeth as he cruised around, leg bouncing as he visited your favourite spots. You weren't at work, and you weren't visiting the library either. Your favourite bar wasn't open yet, and your favourite cafe had already closed for the day.

He felt stupid. He felt guilty. Stupid for leaving, and guilty for chasing you so pitifully. His behaviour was getting borderline obsessive, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't get the chance to even talk to you again. With an angry sigh he threw the car into park, breaking loudly. He slammed the car door a little harder than he would have liked.

Gotham City Park.

A part of him hoped that you weren't here, honestly. It was dark, and everyone knew Gotham was worse after hours. You were alone, presumably unarmed, and a complete fool if you were. His feet traced the path that he knew so well, but it felt weird without having your weight looped around his arm. Hands shoved deep into pockets he fiddled with the lining, chewing his cheek till he got to your tree.

The massive boughs stretched before him, blocking most of the city light. However, he knew that as soon as he got up there, he'd be able to see almost everything. With a pained exhale Dick ran his fingers over the smooth bark before reaching up for the nearest branch and hoisting himself up. Even if you weren't here, he needed somewhere to gather his thoughts. Somewhere to figure out how to fix his fuck up.

He navigated clumsily upwards, the dark making it hard to see. He hadn't realised how naturally his body followed yours when you climbed up, now getting lost by himself. Branches smacked him in the face as he ascended, dense foliage hiding his next foothold from him. Eventually his head poked through the entrance, and he took a deep lungful of crisp air, eyes closing.

"You looked like an idiot climbing around in circles down there, you know."

His eyes fly open, heart catching as he sees you. You're still in your work uniform, knees to your chest. Your eyes are dull despite the starlight. Dick revered your eyes, telling you many times that you could make even a stone glimmer if you gave it a fraction of your light. Now they were like a dying bulb, burnt out and dim.

"Hey," he said softly, as if you'd disappear if he raised his voice any louder. "I was looking for you."

"Well, you found me." You say, shifting your eyes from him to the city. "What do you want?"

His throat closed up, burning. He could feel that bright little ball being shoved into his throat, and he had to grimace to push it back down.

He needed to do this.

"I'm here to apologise." he said quietly, pulling himself up and sitting a respectable distance from you. His fingers suddenly became interesting as he toyed with them, picking at the skin. "I don't expect you to take me back or anything, but I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." he chokes out, looking up at you. "I was- I was scared. I was scared someone was going to take you away from me, that it wasn't worth it. But I was wrong. I'm sorry-" he swallowed harshly as your eyes met his, and the softening at the corners of yours made him want to fold. "I'm sorry for everything I said, for everything I did. You didn’t deserve that; you deserve something better."

"Dick-"

he held up his hand. "You deserve the world, sweetheart." he said, choked at the softness and pain in his own voice. "If I was Superman, I would fly to your window every morning and take you into the clouds just so you could experience what it's like for a heart to fly, like you make mine do. I'd go across the ends of the earth to find the sun after the sunset just to realise it can't be brighter than the smile that you give me in the morning. So, I came to tell you that I made a mistake." he says, quiet and unable to hold your gaze any longer. "I made the biggest mistake of my life. I want another chance." he takes a deep breath, nose burning as he tried to hold back his tears. "And if you don't want me back, I want you to know you deserve all that. Even if it's not me, never settle for anyone that will give you less than that." His voice cracked as he finished, and he swallowed.

He needed to leave. He had done his piece.

The shame swirled in his veins like a cloud and hurrying him to find his way down. His senses were dulled like he was struck with a concussion, thoughts echoing like they were in a tunnel. It was only when he felt the soft skin of your palm on his that his head snapped up. The moment his face was tilted up the light was blocked, and his face was warm.

It took him a good second to recognise the familiar feeling.

You were kissing him.

With a relieved sigh he let out a sigh straight from his chest, chasing after your touch desperately. He thought he may have been in a dream, but when he reached up to cradle your face with a palm, he knew that it wasn't true.

"You idiot." you breathe out, eyes fluttering as you part from the kiss. "You grade A, boy wonder, spandex clad idiot." your rest your forehead against his. "Tell me next time." your murmur, hand coming down to grip his and place it on your chest. “You’re not alone anymore, you know?"

A faint flicker of a smile danced its way across his lips, and his shoulders shook lightly as he laughed at himself. He leant up and brushed his lips against yours once more and finally, that little ball of rage fell through the fingers of that hurt young boy.

[ivysangel]

No thoughts, head empty, only this one:

Dick + baby fever + jealous + mating press = well hello bed, I love you, lmao

Thinking about male manipulator!dick who begs you to let him hit it raw. He's in your ear saying, "It feels so much better, baby," and "But, if you loved me," whispering all the reasons why you should toss the condoms this time.

You give in, insisting that he at least pulls out, telling him that you're not on birth control and you don't want any surprises. He gives you a phony promise that he won't pull anything and subtly nods his head at your words before finding his way inside you.

His body is pressed to yours, legs over his shoulders as he keeps you folded in half with the sheer weight of his body. Your fingernails leave bright streaks of red down his back, the type of open wound he can't get enough of, and your orgasm reaches its peak as his hips start stuttering. He's close.

"Lemme fill you up, baby," he groans, "Don't you want it?" his pace falters, deep calculated strokes now much more shallow and sporadic. "Come on, I know you do."

Bleary-eyed and in a state of delirium, you nod your head, and he's quick to take his chance before you change your mind. His final stroke hits you deep. Cock twitching inside of you as warm streams of cum fill you up, the complete opposite of what you'd initially wanted.

He's still inside you when he starts placing soft kisses on your face, calling you his pretty girl, and saying how much he loves you. "You'll pick up a plan b in the morning, right?" you ask, and he gives you another phony promise as he gently fucks his cum in deeper.

[uc1wa]

jason todd who’s a little religious and says he wants to wait for marriage to fill you full with his cock and cum. jason todd whose tongue is lapping at your entrance and his fingers are circling your clit, reminding you that the bible doesn’t say anything about the inability to do this.

[rainroses45]

My Niece is a Goldfish?

۶ৎ description: Imagine when Dean goes to go pick up Sam from college, not only is the news of John being missing brought up but another little surprise was on its way. Dean Winchester x fem! reader ۶ৎ a/n: I have like 4 different incomplete stories in my notes app rn and I'm just so lazy because who the hell wants to read my garbage when people want smut but oh well i tried…not my best not my worst idc (Not edited) ۶ৎ song inspiration: Back to the Basics - Lana Del Rey ۶ৎ Warnings: ZIP ZERO NONE NADA

“Woah dude, why is there a car seat in the back?” Sam stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at the floral pink booster.

Dean had just broken into his apartment like a serial killer in the middle of night, dragged Sam out into the street after somehow convincing him to join him on trying to locate their dead beat father, and now there is a missing infant.

“Great.” Sam thought, “Dean caused an Amber alert.”

“Shit!” Dean scurried to the impala, hoping - no, praying that his brother developed cataracts or something. “I told them not to leave the car.”

“Them?!” Sam followed Dean around the impala. “What are you talking about?!”

“I told her not to leave,” Dean angrily said while dialing your number, “and what does she do,” he puts the flip phone to his ear, “she leaves.”

“Dean,” Sam walked over to him, still being completely ignored, “hellloooo??” He waved his hands in front of his older brother. “Who are you talking about?”

“Pick up, pick up,” Dean ignore him, anxiously tapped his thigh looking around, waiting for the phone to stop ringing, and your voice to answer.

“Okay if you are about done now with your little tap routine, I’m going back-“ Dean grabbed Sam’s shirt pulling him back like a dog on a leash.

“They couldn’t have gone far-” He shoved the flip phone in his pocket, frantically searching the area with worried eyes. “Dean let go man…” “You take that direction and I’ll check this side, maybe if we..”

“Dean, sweetie did you find Sam?”

And is if the lights from heaven sent a giant satellite beam on you, Dean turned around blindly searching for your voice.

“Oh my dear cream of tartar where have you been?!” Dean flared his hands down looking at you like you’ve been missing for months.

“Okay what the actual fuck is going on?” Sam was close to just throwing his duffle bag at the window, heading back into bed, and taking a melatonin.

Dean waved him off unfortunately to his demise. “Not right now bowl head I just saw all of my lives flash before me.”

“You’re such a baby.” You commented. You held what looked like to sam a tiny sack of potatoes with a pink blanket covering it from the winds.

“Does that mean I get to-“

“NO!” Both you and Sam scream - both for different reasons but the same sense of warning nonetheless.

“Okay can someone explain to me what is happening right now?”Sam ran his hands through his hair desperately trying to contain a forming headache from all this mojo of chaos.

“Well my dear Sammy, while you went off to college I decided to adopt the brady brunch- what the fuck do you think happened?” Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance walking over to you and the baby.

Sam now able to adjust his eyes realized the sack of potatoes turned out to be a little baby with the rosiest checks ever.

“I didn’t think you would end up with child.” Dean groaned at Sam’s comment.

“What are we the England Monarch? No of course I didn’t plan on bringing a baby into this world but stuff happens..” Dean trailed off, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. Sam on the other hand was having a whole mental gymnastics session trying to figure out how the hell things changed so fast.

“How is my little precious princess doing,” your husband pulled the blank down gently to see his daughter’s beautiful eyes peak out. She had the same sparkle and shape as yours to the point he could even see the tiny hew surrounding the pupil - she was beautiful.

“Sorry for leaving sweetheart,” you said to Dean, watching his cute reaction to his daughter gazing up at him. “She was getting fussy in the car waiting so I decided to take her on a little stroll.” You moved her down to your arms, cradling her into your chest.

“Would it have killed you to answer the phone at least?” Dean sighed as the rate of his heart finally matched his breathing.

“Sorry my phone died.” You knew your husband would be worrying about you but by the time you thought to call, you phone screen turned black with a red battery sign on.

“That’s okay just- I don’t know, shoot a flare gun or something just please don’t leave without telling me.”

“I won’t.” You smiled. He in return left a soft kiss to your check and a butterfly kiss to your daughter. She smiled at her father’s touch, making you both smile back; hearts so full with love, before the moment was ruined.

“So I have a niece?”

“No you have a pet goldfish, suprise!” Dean sparkled his hands around annoyingly, if he had known picking up his brother would be this tiring he might have just let Sam be stuck in his cob web filled books. . “How the hell you got into Stanford is beyond me.”

“That’s enough Dean,” you snickered as your husband rolled his eyes. “I think it’s nice to see you again Sam, although on different circumstances would have been nice.” You walked towards the impala, Dean already opened the back door for you as you hopped in with your little princess.

“Wow I just- I never took you as a father figure,” Sam looked down shocked, “I mean I didn’t even see you as one to settle down - no offense Y/n.”

“Umm very much taken Samuel.” You had been dating Dean since you both were 15, so to say he wouldn’t stick around after the shit show of high school was highly offensive.

“Everyone buckle up,” Dean readjusted his review mirror starring at you, as you buckled in your seven month old daughter. His whole life in the back of his car.

Sam clipped in his seatbelt, “Soooo am I going to have to interrogate the baby for answers orrr..”

“This is going to be a long car ride.” You smiled as Dean groaned.

“Well it all started when…”

[acid-ixx]

— masterlist !

dick tries to get to talk to you one day without you refusing to look him in the eyes, so he asks you why you're just so afraid of talking to him eye-to-eye, but instead of expecting you to rebut with something along the lines of their neglect towards you and your hesitation to receive their love after years of loneliness, to which he's already carefully curated a perfect response to ensure you're not a burden they choose to take, at least, in his mind is a perfectly good plan—

you instead look back at him and yelp at just how wide his stare is towards you, hands itching to grapple at your body that long since you rejected his offer for a cuddle, as the very first thing that comes out of your mouth is:

"you have miley cyrus' blue eyes," running away just as quickly as you mutter those words before it registers in dick's mind.