#Robin is a bottom

[cha0ticlesbian]

Sometimes I wanna read really specific fanfics and it’s so frustrating bc how tf am I supposed to search for “Nancy sits in Robins lap as they kiss” 😭

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[batbabydamian]

it’s so funny to me Damian made and wore this suit for ONE meeting with his mom 😭

shown in the “Demon or Detective?” backups in Batman (2016) #106 and Detective Comics #1034!

[unfinishedslurs]

aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)

“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“

Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 

“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”

“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”

Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—

He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”

Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 

“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”

“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 

“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”

“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”

“What,” Steve says. 

“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 

“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”

His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”

“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”

“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”

He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 

Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.

“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”

“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”

“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”

“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”

“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 

“Dyke,” he shoots back. 

“Cocksucker.”

“Carpet—“

“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 

“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 

“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”

Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 

“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 

“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”

“You thought I—how would I know?”

The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!

“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”

“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.

“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”

“You know what flagging is?”

“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”

“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”

“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”

“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”

He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”

“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”

Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 

They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.

“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”

“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“

“That’s—I like topping!”

“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 

“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”

Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I told you he’s shy!”

“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”

“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”

“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”

“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”

“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”

“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 

“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“

“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”

“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”

Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”

“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”

“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”

Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”

Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”

He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”

“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”

It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”

Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 

“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”

“I figured that was a common occurrence.”

“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You were telling me how awesome I am?”

“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”

“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”

He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “WINTER FEVER SURE SUCKS, DOESN’T IT?”

— #. synopsis. this annoyingly repetitive recurrence to delicately tuck light bandages around your wobbly knees, lovingly soothe the purplish bruise away with an affectionate rub of his tender palm. yet, that was precisely it — that it was you, he’d happily do this for without sparing the slightest thought for the numerous times he’s had to expectantly carry out such a gesture.

— #. content warning! surprisingly none, dirty thoughts, yearning and pining, sloppy blowjob, fluff in all its worth, blushy male robin, feverish male reader and just boys helping each other out, is all.

— #. word count? 3.8k words.

— #. extra extra! ashes snippets : “blowjobs cure your fevers and keep the illnesses away. trust me, I’m a professional doctor.”

Carefully tending to your every whims and needs has always been a part of Robin’s unnamed responsibilities, whether verbally spoken so or not. Each and every one of the naive, little orphans instinctively knew who to call upon when faced with another of your clumsy accidents, an accidental slip of your feet — you’d bashfully say, a muttered ‘sorry’ wistfully whispered beneath your huffed breaths and flushing cheeks.

Perhaps, as a poorly-expressed means of a genuine apology for your inborn inattentiveness, that odd, natural skill of yours you unfortunately possessed to repeatedly find shady trouble in every narrow corner of this filthy town. To be Immediately roped into the worst of situations and somehow, come out somewhat unscathed every time.

Maybe if it were to be anyone else, Robin’s cheery mask would’ve eventually slipped past to give forth to the gradual frustration of the instilled obligation he’s readily set upon himself. This annoyingly repetitive recurrence to delicately tuck light bandages around your wobbly knees, lovingly soothe the purplish bruise away with an affectionate rub of his tender palm. Yet, that was precisely it — that it was you, he’d happily do this for without sparing the slightest thought for the numerous times he’s had to expectantly carry out such a gesture. Tirelessly complain? How could he when you’d appear so pitifully before him, the subtlest of pouts adorning your rosy lips whenever you’d tearfully gaze up at him, falsely claiming that it didn’t hurt that much because surely, it really did. God, such a clutz, aren’t you? And honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Every slight stumble and fall would simply be accompanied by his awaiting, helping hand to discreetly soften the landing, cheekily embrace you within his arms.

So, you see — this isn’t any different for him either, not when paired by this lucky opportunity set in place which, he hates to truthfully admit the mere fact that merely gazing at your weakened state sometimes, obtains certain.. reactions from him — from his body, precisely. Listen, he doesn’t mean to subconsciously widen his sat stance atop the wooden chair, make some much needed, accommodating room for his twitching cock noticeably stirring beneath his pants. Really, it’s an instinctual urge like any other man, y’know? And well, despite the known moral etiquette that he should be plainly feeling guilty for secretly getting off to your undeserving suffering here, he can’t possibly help himself, can he? Your fault for being so resistant yet, so weak.

Hence the pathetic position you now currently find yourself in, puffed breaths along with a blazing flush across your cheeks, one that Robin finds to suit you very well. Slicked droplets of sweat steadily trickling down the crook of your neck, softened features normally bright as his, now contorted to a blatant show of pain. Strands of hair attentively brushed out of the way so that he may periodically apply a fresh, new cloth onto your sweaty forehead in hopes of cooling your feverish temperature away. Obscene that he’s grown used to the routine of doting upon you every single, chilly winter cuz’— simply put, you get sick pretty easily.

Namely, he’d like to softly reprimand you for your lack of care for your own self, utter out once more that you should’ve properly bundled yourself up in a thickly knitted scarf or some layered jacket to brace for the pristine white snow and shivering breeze.

Though, of course, as per usual, you hadn’t actually listened to his common advice, so evidently, you’ve come down with a heated fever, rightfully reaping the eventual consequences of your thoughtless actions which he hates to say. Forcing him to— no, truthfully, he consciously chose to faithfully stay by your side till you’d get better. A bit of a slow healer though, that’s the thing. As an entire full week has now officially passed by, a week where he has not gone once to school considering your ailed state. Profusely tumbling out a series of muttered apologies, insistently nudging at him that instead of peering so precariously over you like he is right now, that he should be sat in class instead, intently listening to the teacher’s boring lesson or something.

“Really, you don’t have to. I, uh— ah, am just fine on my own, y’know. You don’t have to worry over me, Robin. It’s just a few hours and anyways, I don’t want you failing school cuz’ of me.” Blatantly uttering out falsehoods when in reality, he’s acutely aware of your quickening breaths, glazed over eyes barely focusing on his blurring figure and, ah.. shit, why’re you so pretty when you’re sick? Not that you normally aren’t, just that— maybe, the feverish haze settled upon you accentuated certain part of your features like your pouty lips sinfully glistening with your own spit, little, tentative swipe of your pink tongue poking out whenever you need to moisten the edges of those chapped lips. Wonder what it’d feel like coyly wrapped around his— ah, cut it out, Robin! Holy thoughts, holy thoughts.. Just like Sydney, right. They’d never think such a thing if faced with a sick, heaving boy. Seriously, he should be composing himself.

“School’s not important right now. You are. I’m not leaving till you fully get better and no matter what you tell me, I’m staying here, ‘kay?” Stubborn as a mule, two people set at opposite sides where one will not relent for the other. Typical argument of yours that involves your unconvincing insistence that you’re indeed okay whereas he will point out otherwise.

“Now, stop worrying about me, silly. Class can wait if it means I get to take care of you.” Hastily choking up at the involuntary confession he may or may not have brazenly unveiled his actual feelings for you— ah, did you notice? ..Yeah, no. So oblivious to your surroundings it sometimes frustrates him, but he can’t truly be upset with you for long, perceiving it more as an endearing trait he can poke fun at than an inherent flaw.

“..Fine. I guess if you say you want to stay then you can.. But I seriously owe you a favour for this.” Smiling gleefully at your reluctant act of conceding with a huffed pout, content in his momentary victory to tenderly dote upon you some more. “Mm? You wanna repay me?” That’s a funny thought, you, actually expressing your gratitude for him when he’s been acting more like a coddling mother excessively worrying over her child than anything else — not that he wouldn’t openly accept the idea of you fulfilling a favour for him. Question is, what exactly?

Subtly scanning over the sight of your curled frame underneath the woollen covers, curled fist loosely held onto the material and god, it makes his heart ache to single-handedly witness you being so cute in front of him. Without you even knowing, too. Instinctually trailing over the outline of your lower body below the blankets, skittishly being brought up once more to intently gaze at your bed riddled self.

Well, he’s got an idea maybe, of what to ask.. That’d be too bold though, wouldn’t it? Just friends or more like foster brothers to each other, even if the heat pooling in the core of his tummy is whispering out tell-tale lies. No friend of such should be secretly viewing theirs in a lewd manner, should be shamefully fisting their weeping cock late at night while their shirt is carelessly held back by their clenching teeth bitten between it. Muffling their stifled moans, desperately pumping their cock stupid, collecting the accumulated drool of pre at the tip to pervertedly slide down to the base with a wet squelch! all the while thinking of their supposed ‘friend’. Yeah, a friend is what you’d so cheerfully call him, ever since childhood, you’ve only had each other amongst the mess of an orphanage you’re miserably forced to live in by your cold-hearted caretaker.

However, would it be so bad if he were to consider you as more? Tentatively steer you in the other direction if you were to collectively see him in the same light as he does— “Robin? Can I have some water? ..Please?” Cutting his spiralling calculations abruptly with the timid lilt in your voice, almost shy of solely relying on another to be given something to drink. How you wholly depend on him sometimes for the simplest of tasks, unable to do anything or so, you frantically claim. Hurriedly interrupting his track of thoughts with a meek request and, how could he not obligate to your every whim? You’re only deserving of it, after all.

“Y-Yeah, of course.” Last of things he should be doing is envisioning stuff like sickeningly taking advantage of your bed riddled position, most definitely helpless in stopping him if he were to try.. anything, at all. Hah, no better than those lustful monsters that reside in this town, sneakily hide themselves amongst the shadows. Endless times he’s routinely walked to and back from school with you as per usual, only to encounter another one of those disgusting creeps that’d shamelessly try to land their filthy paws onto your untouched body, disgustingly slobber all over you as though they were deserving of the slightest sliver inch of skin from you. And yes, there is the slight tremor apparent in his voice when he’s actively telling them off in favour of protecting of you, but that’s precisely it. You’re enough of a reason for him to confidently fight back, take a stand even with the apparent wobble in his knees.

Truly, those hands of yours that find themselves clasping at his once the whole ordeal is fortunately over, beaming face filled with admiration is why he does it. Enough with the constant reminiscing however, dutifully reaching for a bottle of water set onto the oaky dresser, hesitating noticeably in his next actions to curiously gaze back at your awaiting mouth. “Want me to hold it for you?” Isn’t he simply enabling your unprompted, lazy behaviour? Bound to turn you spoiled if this readily keeps up, doesn’t mean he still won’t do it.

A subtle nod of your head to his gentle suggestion is all it takes, swiftly uncapping the bottle cap off before directing it towards your parted lips, palm decisively placed along your jaw, carefully titling your head backwards into the cushioned pillow to ease in on your swallowing. Noisy gulps accompanied by the rhythmic bobbing of your fragile throat, sluggishly drinking it all down with a satisfied sigh. Thing is, he shouldn’t be staring so intently at all these intricate details nor particularly zeroing in on the barely noticeable droplet of water that spilled past those moist lips, really— this is going beyond well-intentioned admiration and more like, borderline obsession.

Still, it’s just.. helping, is it not? It’s not like he’s physically harming you in any shape or form when his eyes lovingly peer upon you for a moment longer, stray hand instinctively coming to wipe away at the wet sweat built up there. Lingering contact, just helping in every sense of the word, that’s all it is! Thumb swiping lower to rest upon the gap between your parted lips, right where the wet warmth he so fervently seeks out is, digit dipping shyly with a shaky inhale at the sheer sensation that greets him— A wet and ready mouth, so easily pliable, mouldable for a fat cock that’d happen to be consequentially slipped inside, by chance. Drooling little baby you’d be, looking so very stupid with a mouthful of cock promptly shoved down the rewarding tightness of your throat.. You wouldn’t mind, would you?

At the end of the day, as so often told by many as a shabby excuse for their unforgiving actions — which he, himself, is no better of, at the moment — he’s nothing, but a man. Horny hormones offset from the mere, close proximity he shares with you, his crush, within this narrow space and time. Cock annoyingly straining against the rough fabric of his pants, hopefully palming at the hot, twitching bulge beneath your field of vision — or perhaps, truthfully he wants you to actually see him. Plainly witness the downright degeneracy of his current actions, heated palm clumsily circling over his red, leaking tip frustratingly covered by the material of his jeans, huffing over your bare form as though he’s solely being restrained by the horrifying idea of cold rejection on your part.

Cmon, won’t you rightfully take responsibility for what you’ve done to him? Having him just as equally heated as you over here, dangerously peering at the edge of his chair to unintentionally tower over your confused, oblivious self. See, the weight of those fluttering eyelashes, how you don’t even try to coldly discard his affectionate touch, borderline inappropriate one too — in fact, welcoming it as you subconsciously lean into the cup of his soft palm?? Surely, that’s shamelessly asking for it, a hidden sign of your reciprocation of his sentiments in return. Or so, his self-deluded mind dumbly convinces himself of such.

It’s the meek “Robin?” that stills him, curious eyes peering up at him with a quizzical cock of your head, veiled worry making its way past your strained features in a subtle questioning of if he’s alright. “Something wrong?” Oh, if only you knew that, yeah— something is indeed very wrong, knee now cautiously placed atop the bed, squeaking mattress dipping lower, distinct creak audibly heard throughout the four corners of the walls surrounding you both. Good, think he locked the wooden door nearby and it’s not like.. any younger orphan might upsettingly interrupt you two nor walk in, lest they actually want to be terrifyingly face to face with an angry Robin for once in their lives. A rare occurrence.

“Huh? O-Oh, well— I was just wondering about what you’ve said before. Y’know, owing me a favour for taking care of you and all..” Idly scratching at the back of his neck in a habitual instinct to soothe the spiking nervousness rendering him dizzy, hitched breath faltering in its smooth flow to ponder, briefly hesitate over his next few words. How exactly should he even go about this..? Discreetly hinting is sure not to successfully work if taking into account your naive innocence, albeit adorable to him — sometimes, is unintentionally setting himself up in the inevitable scenario of being direct. Shy as he might be, at times, specially flustered in the presence of you, Robin still determinedly carries on with a drawn out sigh, hovering over your laid frame ever so slightly to satisfyingly catch that split-second, shift of your incredulous expression.

“Is it fine if I use it now? I mean, what I’d really like for you to do right now, is.. take care of this for me. I-If you want to do that.” Swallowing thickly as your inquisitive eyes intently follow his pointed finger, direction openly set onto the growing bulge instinctually twitching in turn from your gaze heavily set upon it, his evident hard-on humiliatingly on display just for you. “Please. I-I just— ah, fuck..” Look at you, how you decidedly waste no time in readily obeying to his flustered request, seamlessly move onto your side where your head is sweetly nestled between the gap in his willingly spread thighs. “..You’re really doing it— hah.” Huffing, nuzzling and nosing along the visible outline of his bulge jutted against your squished cheek, appearing so goddamn pure despite the undeniable fact that you’re— ah, shit.. pervertedly inhaling the musky scent of his fat cock throbbing insistently underneath the layer of clothing, crudely smelling him in such a dirty place before your cute hands come to rest atop the surface of his hips. Slowly unzipping him free to give way to his drooling cock staining a wet patch of pre below the fabric of his boxers, pink, swiping tongue dampening the stain in shade from your little kitten licks.

Suckling attentively on the flushed tip right below his underwear, thin layer of cloth merely separating your skillful tongue from making actual contact with the pulsing flesh of his cock. Where’d you even learn to do such a thing and how did you even— accept so easily to the stumble of his awkward request? Graciously went along with it as if he were simply asking you to fetch some water from the cooling fridge in the kitchen, eyes reflexively shut in a soft hum of appreciation at the responsive twitch you receive from his cock in response to every careful lick. “I guess, it’s only natural to help each other as boys, right? Whatever you want, Robin, I’ll offer you it.” Whispering out so selflessly, fully handing him the ability to maneuver this entire situation to his liking and if that means having you so lewdly strip him down to his bare form, then so be it.

“Y-You really don’t have to.. ah—“ Promptly interrupted by a sharp hiss as his cock is suddenly freed from the annoyingly tight confines of his underwear, crudely smacking against the tender skin of your cheek with a resounding, wet slap! that it further fuels his fluster at the sheer noise. Pearly pre-cum naturally smeared across your face and, fuck— you’re not the least bit bothered by it, being sinfully tainted by his fluids stained upon your body and here you are, teasingly running your rosy tongue flat along the veiny underside of his throbbing shaft before finally, reaching forward to suck up all the salty, oozing pre accumulated at the head.

“But I wanna, Robin.” Stop calling out his name affectionately like that, he’ll really bust a load before you even get to sucking him off! Muttering out so sweetly, absently stroking the base of his cock with your curled fist tight around the girth, a rhythmic up-and-down motion to meanly draw out more beads of sticky fluid, lazily trickling down his quivering length. “You always take care of me and, hah— I think it’s only fair that I return the favour too. I wanna.. thank you for being so nice to me all the time, even if I’m a handful, huh?” Hand coming to rest atop your soft head at the generous gesture you’ve so nicely offered him now, caressing through the stray strands of hair, lovingly brush it out of the way so that he may obtain a better view of your half-lidded eyes, intent on getting him off. “So, let me. Let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”

Ah, seriously.. Stubborn as always and he can’t help, but to let himself selfishly indulge deeper in this sweet act, widening thighs accommodating you along with his knees firmly planted at each side of your bobbing head, dizzying squelch! of your translucent spit coming to meld with the thick globs of pre. How is it that someone can appear so dutiful, merely carrying out one’s favour when you’re stupidly slobbering all over his balls? Wet, welcoming heat of your mouth— ah, god— pouty lips snugly wrapped around the pulsing girth of his length, obscenely taking him into the base as you automatically repeat the process. Poking tongue playfully alternating between light drags of it across the tip to then coat it once again in the warm depths of your throat.

Though perhaps what comes second to the sheer, slippery heat engulfing the entirety of his cock are the tell-tale signs, lulled whispers of your shared arousal, mindlessly gettin’ yourself off from sloppily sucking him off. Little, cute cock provokingly poking out, smearing a stained mess against the cotton sheets from the pathetic, adorable act of humping yourself stupid along the cushioned mattress. Ah, does having another man’s cock in your mouth, preferably your best friend too — get you off that much? Sucking in a sharp, held breath, gaze observingly fixated on the subtle bounces of your cock with every gentle movement, curve of your arched back laid on its side. “..You’re hard.” He evidently remarks the obvious, normally clear voice coming out all strangled in a stifled groan as your glistening lips instinctively tighten ‘round him to spare him a brief glance of your own.

“..Shut up.”You huff out, not necessarily meaning it cuz’ yeah— you are hard and it’s clear as day as to why. Resuming on with your actions, suckling on one of his taut balls before ultimately letting go with a wet pop! Thin strings of saliva connected to the flesh of your puffy lips, clumsily stroking the rest that your small mouth cannot pitifully reach. Natural reaction is all it is! Same goes for the embarrassing fact that he’s already so fucking close, so close to shooting a straight load down your tight, little throat. Busting his fat seed and surely, you’ll— you’ll swallow it, right??

A stammered hitch in his speech, stuttering hips jolting in tandem with each and every one of your sucks, savouring the feel of his fat cock deep inside your drooling mouth. “A-Ah— wait— I’m, fuck— I’m cummin’—“ Head thrown back, eyes reflexively rolling to the back of his skull which his fingers can’t help to follow on, entangling themselves in the mess of your hair, cruelly sticking you there as he suddenly busts a whole fucking load right down your throat, white ropes of cum spurting past your lips — messily drip over the clean sheets below. Spilling his cum to coat the insides of your mouth all sticky with his seed and truly, he didn’t mean to! Or maybe, he did. As downright, secretly perverted that he is in wanting to bear witness to your eventual ruin. Pretty sight of your chin all tacky and white, dribbling droplets of his fluids all over your shocked face. Ah, he’s gotta be doin’ this again, one way or another.

No time to waste one baseless apologies and such, for having staining you in the filth of his essence— No, those are all past Robin’s mind as he impulsively throws himself onto you like some wild animal, forcibly pins you down below his heaving figure with that familiar, cheeky smile. Plainly chuckling at the stifled whine of protest that draws out of you, settling his position so that he may instead, comfortably rest between the plush of your spread thighs. “Robin! W-What’re you doin’??”

“S-Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll clean you up and make it all up to you later. Promise.” He furtively repeats, not exactly meaning it, but can you blame him when an awaiting cock is being so painfully neglected here? And, he’s consciously certain that you won’t refuse his gesture, not with that drawled out whine as he easily pops your cock between his glossy lips, eyes appreciatively fluttered shut to savour the taste of you. Etch it to memory.

Promise he’ll make it up to you in the way he knows most, tenderly inquiring you with one single question he’s all too keenly aware of the answer to. Bright, doe eyes, ruffled brown hair and that boyish grin you’ve seen him in time and time again. As you know him best. “But.. you haven’t cum yet, have you?”

As you’ve stated before, it’s just boys helping each other out, right?

[plistommy]

Robin: Okay, bottoms up!

Steve: *stands up*

Eddie: *smirks*

Nancy: I’m never hanging out with you guys again

[soaln]

i loved your demi luffy response!! v cute^^

can i get a follow up, or maybe a one shot of him biting reader’s neck? maybe he does it so much reader has his teeth marks scarred into his skin 👀

🍓 ;; Fluffy,mention of blood and scars,nothing to bad tbh, short.

🍒 ;; part one

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺,,

It was normal day for the crew,with no problems but they noticed something off about [Name]. They noticed bites on his neck,some were fresh,some were scarred into his skin.

At first they didn’t really notice it,until Chopper mentioned it wondering if an animal bited,if it was venomous or not. He asked him to see him sometimes if there was red bloody bites.

He also noticed that wasn’t animal’s bites it human’s teeth,he was sure. Chopper asked him who did this,he didn’t respond he took him few minutes before revealing the person.

Luffy was the one did this,that’s what [Name] said,he would always scold him for doing but he never listened,well sometimes he does but can only hold him for few minutes before giving up. Chopper decided to not tell anyone about this.

One day,Nami asked infront of everyone who was lucky person who bites your neck. Luffy had no ashamed and said that he did this,the crew was deadpanned and dumbfounded and the [h.color] male felt his face became warmer,embarrassed.

Sanji and Zoro was both shocked but Zoro didn’t really show it on his face.

Ussop has his jaw dropped,he never the captain doing that he thought of someone like Zoro.

The red haired woman,would be also shock and would’ve say ‘Ehhhh’ out loud without realizing it.

Robin wasn’t the type of person who would be surprised but she didn’t really thought that the captain would do that.

Luffy didn’t understand why they were embarrassed and about for him to gives him loves bites he doesn’t he wanted to show the world that he owns you (in sexual if you want) and he thought that’s what people do when they like each other.

Luffy loved him dearly. (And Chopper also said that he should stop but didn’t really scold him like you do )

authors notes : sorry if the grammar is bad I’m writing this at 3am (bcs I live in France) and I’ve got BSD (Bungou stray dogs) blog you can request if you want @arsonw <3

[azz-modeus]

POV: You come home after selling drugs to kids only to find a visitor waiting for you. He doesn’t seem happy.

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) I literally said I was gonna post this month's ago and then never had the wherewithal to describe it and so I didn't Lmao (said with pain). But since I'm thinking of opening my commissions I figured I should remind ppl that I. Yknow. Can draw.

Lots of Steph here (I had major art block making all of these and my brain worms for her kept me going) + some sprinkles of stephcass for Cass nation to enjoy!

[beeqisch]

timkon doodles because i am insane extremely normal

ignore any mistakes im too lazy to fix them this is just for fun anyway

[vmp3ater]

your robin thirsts get me soooo 😩 imagining robin writhing on the bed as she takes my cock ughhhh she’s so cute and sexy

subbot robin x domtop amab reader

ohhhh yeah.

poor robin squirming and whining on the sheets, tugging at them ever so slightly as your cock thrusts into her. you’re hitting all the right spots deep inside her and she doesn’t know if she can take it. she’s wrapping her legs around you, trying to keep you near her but she’s trying to squirm away from you because it’s just too much.

you decide to stimulate her further—letting the backs of your fingers graze her wings, twitching every time you’d touch them and inticing a soft whine from her. she looks even cuter when she reaches her peak, cumming around your cock and whining as you pump her full of her seed, letting out sighs as your cum seeps inside her

hfhdhhdhf

[melodic-haze]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: bottom!Robin (HSR) x top!Reader

☆ — GENRE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Semi-public sex (it's in a venue green room), reader has a cock/strap

Can't believe that my first post is Robin thirst (I say that when my acc theme is literally her 💀) but I REALLY can't stop thinking about fucking her in her private dressing room LOL

Like imagine she calls you in or smth as a form of "distraction" from "pre-performance jitters" with both of you knowing FULL WELL that she isn't nervous in the least. She's even acting the part: her eyebrows furrowed, a hand lightly tugging on the fabric of your clothes as she's asking you to stay with her

"I don't think I'd be able to get out there and sing without your help." Her eyes look at you as if she were pleading, though you've spent enough time with the singer that you easily spot the tiniest glimmer in that alluring sea of green, "Won't you care to stay a little while longer..?"

Doesn't really take long for it to go from simply talking and hanging out to bending her over on the table. All it took was a squeeze here, a graze there, and suddenly neither of you can keep your hands off each other

Could be that she's laying down on her back, legs spread and on your shoulders as you move your fingers in her to find that sweet spot that has her singing your favourite song made just for you on the fly. Could be that she's facing down as you use her wings as handlebars to keep her upright and she can see herself and her perfect image get absolutely RUINED and railed by none other than you on the mirror and her insides just clench at the sight

Her appearance is absolutely MESSED THE FUCK UP right now (the hair and makeup people are Stressing) but Robin really can't bring herself to care. Not when her brain's gone to who knows where. All that's important right now is chasing that high until she--

You hear a somewhat urgent knock on the door, your efforts stuttering at your moment's intrusion, "Miss Robin? We need to set you up in five."

You don't see or hear your pretty little angel respond, though judging by the dazed-out look on her face it's clear that.. well, it's not as if she's so dazed out that she can't begin to process the current events—it's more like she doesn't want to process it.

Apparently whoever it was didn't take the hint because the staff's voice rang past the door once again, "Miss Robin? Are you there?"

You eventually see her sigh resignedly, her eyebrows furrowed genuinely this time as she cleared her throat and answered awkwardly, putting all her strength into making sure she doesn't sound like some fucked-out mess.

"Yes, I'm fine! I'll be there on time," she let out a seemingly good-natured laugh to sell the charade, though the corners of her mouth twitched the slightest bit.. before she bit her lip as she slowly grinded herself on you. "Though careful there—worry like that and-- mm.. I might think you like me."

You hear the staff member stutter past the door before footsteps begin to scurry away. With the way your lover was just moving, you'd have thought that she wanted to continue.. but she pushes herself off of you and pulls up her panties with a small apologetic smile.

She tells you that as much as she really wanted to continue, she shouldn't. She has a job to do, and being late or skipping on a show just wouldn't do! She promises to finish things with you when she's done, and that promise comes in the form of cleaning her slick off of you and leaving a lingering kiss.. before asking you to help her with getting her appearance back to looking AT LEAST presentable LMAOOOO

It takes you both more than five minutes and the staff are baffled but it's not like you can explain it 😭😭 so have fun with the scrutinising stares 🫶

Robin's got better self-control than me I would've died if I had to perform while bricked the fuck up LOL. But trust me when I say that it's worth it when she gets off the stage and she pounces at you and begs you to finish what you started bc she deserves it as a reward after a hard day of work, right?

[milf-harrington]

one of the only things i've drawn in weeks and it's just a whole page of cowboys lmao

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “IT SHOULD BE ME, YOU LOOK AT — NOT HIM.”

#. — synopsis. this, he has to admit — is entirely on his part, for foolishly falling for such baseless fantasies, for stupidly expecting an ever-changing person to stay the same as he had intently molded to his desired shape.

#. — content warning! jealousy and possessive behaviour, handjob, some clumsy thigh job, lots of ‘darling’ and ‘doll’ thrown around, best friend yandere robin that may or may not be out of character, pushover male reader and mentions of whitney who robin claims is undeserving of you.

#. — word count? 3.0k words.

#. — extra extra! ashes snippets. : “..yeah, normal stuff.”

This, he has to admit — is entirely on his part, for foolishly falling for such baseless fantasies, for stupidly expecting an ever-changing person to stay the same as he had intently molded to his desired shape.

Yes, Robin should’ve known better than to mistakenly assume that despite the difficult circumstances at hand, you would’ve remained the same old you as he has always intricately known. Wouldn’t have long grown past the distant, forgotten memories you’ve shared alongside him in that filthy town you both grew up in. That vivid moment of instant connection as he so happily recalls back on it, the eventual development of your childhood friendship that gradually took on a completely different meaning for him. Inevitably bloomed into.. as embarrassing as it is to bashfully admit, an innocent crush. Love, in the cheesiest of terms.

All of which he so deeply cherishes, blissfully reminiscences upon, only to be thoroughly ruined, savagely ripped to shreds by one person, and one person only.

Whitney. Your newly found friend, you’d say. That local bully famously known for terrorizing a variety of poor students reluctantly attending the school. Yes, whatever is his name as if he’d bother to properly memorize it, whether or not it’s rightfully articulated in his mind. Not that he gives two shits about who is who, just that, well, beneath his evidently awful influence, you’ve seemed to have taken on that same shitty behaviour in turn, too. As younger friends usually do, following forth in their admiring, older figure’s footsteps, right? The instinctual need to impress, to seek out sweet approval from others nearby, yeah?

But, you’ve gotta understand, you’re really heading off in the wrong direction, here.

That nauseating scent similar to that of used cigarettes, the swirling cloud of smoke that should’ve surely surrounded your curled frame when standing so closely — far too close, in fact — next to the blonde. Disgusting, makes him wanna vomit to visualize the mere thought of you two comfortably acting so intimately around each other. Fag snugly tucked between the delinquent’s accommodating lips, friendly arm casually thrown around your shoulder all the while sweetly whispering utter filth in the shell of your delicate ear. Is that why you’ve been crudely stinking of cigarettes lately? Been frequently remarked by several acquaintances and other friends that the fabric of your attire smells awfully familiar? Because you and Whitney, your little, new ‘friend’ by the way, are in constant close proximity at all times, are sneakily concealing a hidden, sinful relationship underneath that underlying facade of an amiable bond? Is that it?

Would’ve that been in part, used as a reason for your noticeable shift in the absence of your calls? Cmon, your best friend or so-called one, isn’t a moron and y’know better than to have him decisively fall for such tactless excuses hurriedly tumbling out of your lips on the other end of the line. Busy, you unnaturally stammered. Had to tirelessly study for an upcoming exam was the next on the list, which he has to mask the subtle smirk of disbelief briefly marking his lips since you’ve never been much the studious type, have you? Huffing out a sigh of disappointment as you expectantly decline to another one of his proposals, an occasional offer to possibly hang out further down the line of this weekend, maybe?

‘Course not, a family outing had already been planned long before, stubbornly blocking his initial intentions simmering deep within the back of his mind, no matter how twisted it is to fervently lust after his supposedly close friend. Contradicting the very words you had dutifully uttered out on the day you were faithfully bound to depart, move out of this cramped place— “Promise I’ll call you everyday.” Yeah, whatever happened to that shared commitment the both of you had enthusiastically agreed upon?

Liar, you had easily given up on the engagement, hadn’t you? Hence why the lack of calls-in he awaited to receive were gradually declining to none at all, accompanied by the already limited interactions between each other. It was becoming increasingly clear you weren’t going to return his persistent check-ups for another update.

To say, he expected better of you. After that beaming grin you happily shined him back with time and time again, the one he had grown used to seeing whenever he came out of that run-down orphanage, only to be greeted by the sight of your form patiently awaiting for his arrival. Hand in hand, habit having thickly settled in, walking forward to the nearby school all while the years steadily passed by. Meant nothing to you, did it?

And truthfully, under any other position, the sanest decision to be made would be to simply let it go, to move past this unfortunate situation and obliviously pretend like none of it had taken place to begin with. Not whatever he has done— Consequently arriving to your doorstep out of the blue, hastily pushing past your exclaimed questioning as to why or how he’s suddenly decided to show up here. Why? Is there any real reason for a best friend to happily visit his distant own? Ah, another coated lie to plainly convince himself that whatever he is doing at this moment isn’t wrong, isn’t downright immoral to be sullying a dreadful stain upon your precious friendship like this.

Still, isn’t this what he’s been due lately for having been such a good, willing and patient friend for you? The ushered praises he’d like to intimately exchange with you in turn, falling short due to his drooling mouth currently being occupied by the tender flesh of your neck. Always been so soft— so damn fragile within his well-intentioned grasp, how he’s been longing to finally be given a taste of you. And now, he has.

Whether to greedily relish in your hitched gasps or muttered series of words in utter bewilderment of what he’s currently doing is beyond Robin’s feeble mind. Too caught up in the fact that you’re comfortably sat upon his lap, well— not necessarily the most convenient of seats, but he can contentedly make up for such a trivial matter, can’t he? Solely focused on pleasuring you over here, like a good friend properly should when occasionally visiting them, no? Cmon, he’s just being fortunate with the fact that he gets to witness this firsthand, beneath his watchful guise and heated palm steadily jerking you off. So, so cute..

Really make the cutest of expressions when you’re being so cruelly stimulated like this, but not without some hint of affection sneakily laced in his careful movements! After all, despite having been such a filthy, ungrateful friend on your part, he’s still faithfully serving you as best as he can.

Slippery glides of his tight held fist rhythmically stroking up and down, thumb discreetly hovering above the leaking tip to rub along your dribbling slit and coax out more beads of pre. Look at you, stupidly losing your mind over a mere handjob like some virgin prude who’s never been generously given the addictive touch of another in his life. Familiar fingertips desperately clutching at his shoulders for proper stability, as if that might actually reel your hazy mind against his softened coos, lazily circling at your sensitive head all the while.

“Does it feel good?” Huskily muttering in the shell of your flushed ear, acutely aware of the dizzying effects he holds upon you right this moment, this instant and, god— It feels so right. As if faith itself had initially intended for this to play out precisely as he had originally anticipated. Endlessly thanking the divine deities from above, not that he truly believed in religion to begin with, with his bleak upbringing up till now, but today, perhaps he will for lovingly gracing him with the adorable sight of your fucked dumb face.

Scrunched up features, furrowed brows deepening in pure concentration with the sole intent to hungrily drink in every minor detail, commit them to memory. The quivering of your rosy, pouty lips, scarlet flush adorning your cheeks to prettily match with the faintest of tints along the nape of your neck. Sheer embarrassment rendering your form immobile beneath his cupped palm, writhing legs deftly locking themselves further around his slouched waist.

And, the sounds— fuck, the sounds are honestly the best part he gets to excitedly experience with every steady stroke of his tightening fist, breathlessly gawking in awe at the staining mess of sticky slick smearing across the softened pad of his thumb. Strangled whimpers involuntary exiting past your lips, your helpless blabbering unfortunately muffled in the crook of his neck, that laidback demeanour of yours he’s grown used to knowing, now stupidly reduced to a mumbling mess. “R-Robin— ah, fuuu— s-slow down—“ Pleas falling upon deaf ears, gets his cock all achy underneath the tightening confines of his pants, straining bulge undoubtedly twitching against your sat ass who isn’t helping matters here.

That’s fine, though. Not only does he get to selfishly jack you off, there’s also the downright desperate opportunity to tentatively roll his hips upwards, frantically grinding his hot, soaking tip between your widening thighs to his content leisure like a dumb mutt in heat. Fuckin’ feels so good just to mindlessly hump away against your plush ass— wonder if you’d even offer him a thigh job in return if he were to consequently ask, ah— shit, he’d like nothing more than to be enveloped by that soft, warm heat, sneakily slide his throbbing cock in between the slim gap of your cum coated thighs and relish in your muted moans.

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? By the looks of it, eyes instinctively rolling to the back of his skull with a pouted huff since it isn’t fair, y’know? Not fair at all that you’ve been secretly hiding those pretty expressions of yours and adorable noises from him all along, selfishly depriving him of such a pretty picture he’s repeatedly visited in his perverted mind. Deceitful friend, aren’t you? It’s merely logical to reach for what was initially his from the start after all, besides what Whitney has flimsily offered you in the past.

Oh, but he can be so much better than that brute who savagely takes what he so pleases, gentler in his careful strokes to loyally get you off. Promise he’ll make you feel so, sooo good— hah, just give him a chance and that’s all it’ll ever take to decisively prove himself to you. Promise to provide you with nothing but utter pleasure as long as it means he gets to be only one to gaze upon you like this, witness your helpless ruin beneath his moving hands.

And, ah god— the things you do to him, no better than Whitney with how they collectively both leer at you in the same hungry manner. Impulsively shifting positions so at to hover above you, pin you further underneath his tight held grasp willingly refusing to loosen any more cuz’ no way is he letting you go from now on, ‘kay? Bitterly huffing over the crook of your neck, savagely panting like some dog in heat as he instead settles on spreading your legs apart for his viewing enjoyment and specially, with the intent of fucking himself between those soft, milky thighs and rub against that swaying cock. A whimpering boy, but you have the thighs of a girl— not that he’s necessarily complaining about that minor aspect.

“S-Sorry, I wanna— ah, make you feel so good. Make you feel so, so good for me.” Truth is, he isn’t sorry in the slightest nor does he feel any ounce of creeping remorse for his downright, desperate behaviour. Tumbling off in another direction entirely, a whiny mess just as much as you in his frantic thrusts accompanied by a shuddering gasp, clumsily fumbling with the hem of his jeans— stupid zipper, really — stripping himself bare before finally, plainly kicking his pants off to carelessly land amongst the messy heap of already spread clothes. There you are, darling. So good for patiently awaiting his next move, supple fingertips timidly curling in the softened fabric of his shirt. Needy baby needed Robin that bad?

He’d be nothing more than content to quell that quivering ache pooling in the pit of your tummy, leaking cock springing free, hefty weight resting against your own drooling dick to smear the melding globs of pre-cum together in a gasped moan. Effortlessly slipping his slicked length between the squish of your thighs, overly sensitive tip oozing pre and provokingly peeking out from the warm enveloping of your soft flesh tenderly wrapped around him. Just being neatly nestled in the welcoming heat of your thighs has him dizzy, hitching a held breath. What would it feel like to be fucking your hole instead? Ah, he’d cum on the spot simply from shoving it in, rendered dumb from the feel of those slippery walls tight around his throbbing girth.

“Push your thighs together for me, please— yeah, just like that. Good boy.” Wistfully whispering praises to you ever so sweetly, a tentative thrust of his and it’s all he truly needs to have him going. Quick, steady snap of his hips following suit with a shared whine spilling past each others parted lips, one hand securely placed around your hip to absentmindedly pinch at while the other rests atop your knee to easily guide himself deeper. “You really feel so good like this.. Ah, I should’ve done this sooner— hah, should’ve done it before he did.” Drooling mutt humping himself stupid between your shivering thighs, reflexively tightening in return from every sloppy buck of his hips against your backside, fat balls repetitively meeting yours in a sickeningly loud slap! to both audibly groan at.

If Whitney is the big, bad wolf deftly awaiting for your clumsy self to consequentially fall into his open maw, then Robin must be nothing more than a huffing puppy in a rut, practically mounting your heaving frame beneath his. Taking advantage of this cherished bond you’d dumbly call friendship when ultimately, a good friend probably shouldn’t be out here openly taking advantage of his own convenient status to slide himself between your legs. Crude, isn’t it? Yet, feels so fucking good— can you possibly blame him so for shamelessly moaning down the curve of your shoulders? Baring teeth instinctually seeking for the nearest source of relief which merely happens to be your sweat slicked flesh underneath his lolling tongue. Not wanting to be too rough either with your quivering figure, instead settling upon peppering warm kisses along the edge of your collarbone.

Plus, how could he so bitterly refute you when you hazily gaze upon his scarlet cheeks with glazed over eyes, glistening lips glossy with spit parted lightly just begging to be intimately kissed and pleasantly tended to. So very responsive in your every shivering twitch, cautious fingers carefully shifting up to cup your warming cheeks in his heated palm to have your pouty mouth eagerly accept his. Pink, wet tongue tentatively swiping along the puffy flesh of your bottom lip in a silent plea to further open up for him, mingling saliva pervertedly dripping into your wanting throat as you two share spit. The surprisingly soothing gesture of his thumb tenderly rubbing across your skin, sneakily coaxing you out of those crumbling walls you’ve narrowingly built around yourself, bit by agonizing bit.

Sometimes, one can’t help, but to eventually cave in when faced with ushered platitudes and cooed niceties wistfully uttered into his ear. Only human to break, isn’t it? Little doll. So— “Hah, shit— I think, I’m gonna—“ Helplessly sputtering off into a broken moan and maybe, it’s the way you breathlessly call for him in a meek ‘Robin’ like he’s all you could ever need — ah, what is he thinking? Evidently, he would be! — that has his hips stuttering, drawn further back where his sopping tip coyly rests at the edge of your plush thighs only to sloppily shove himself in one last time before sticky cum comes to coat at your tummy. Honestly, he didn’t mean to! It was an— ah.. accident that his cock automatically squirted out white strings of cum for you to pitifully whine at, intent on getting you off too as he deliberately reaches down to take ahold of your poor, neglected cock between his soft fingers. Just a bit more, a bit more.. Poor baby didn’t get to cum, huh? He can easily fix that, absently squeezing at the base of your cock, whining just as stupidly as you once he luckily catches sight of your contorted features, the wet squelch drawn forth from every clumsily made stroke of loosely tugging at the tip.

The things you do to him, shakily moaning in tandem with you from the sheer, puppy love his thudding chest occupies for you, bent over in a hasty need to finish you off and fuck, look so pretty when cummin’, darling— drawled out whine of a pathetic ‘wait!’, pulsing squirts of your cock shot out to add onto the already sticky mess staining your bare stomach, head dumbly thrown back in which he can’t help, but etch to his memory for later use. Isn’t this proof enough for you? Of his unrelenting devotion, sweetly planting a brief kiss upon each of your sticky with sweat fingertips in another display of his unwavering loyalty, need to throughly worship you for what you so prettily are.

“Only look at me from now on, okay?” And, if your wandering gaze does ever dare to stray too far away from his unmoving one, then, he could always forcibly direct it back to its rightful place, can’t he? You, in his loving embrace, supposedly where you truly belong in his wishful mind, deserving of every ounce of giddy affection he has to gleefully offer you with a tender kiss of his own. Cupped palm earnestly stroking along the length of your heated cheeks, so prettily pink for his selfish eyes to dote upon only. As it should be, little doll.

So, when he does boldly utter out an easy order for you, one meant to be readily followed and faithfully promised to— don’t break it this time, alright?

Because it’ll only offer him another, self-serving reason to continuously break you in return.

[mistress-of-vos]

Jason, Damian and Jean-Paul dressed up as Batman running into each other on their way to Tim's room in the middle of the night:

(Context/fic idea:

Tim, needy omega, decided to call his three current alpha crushes and invite them to his room. He sent a picture where he's wearing a naughty Robin costume and joked about needing a Batman.

Tim didn't expect any of them to show up. He opens the door to three big, offended and rough alphas who look at him as if they were going to devour Tim.

The result is way better than sleeping.)

[pcktknife]

robin im not finishing