#and because i mentioned him for a hot second

[sincerelyriize]

cotton candy | p.wb

“so we just have sex to solve all our problems”

💿now playing: cotton candy by yungblud

❯ summary: Your boyfriend, Wonbin, is so fucking stubborn that he never knows when, how or why he should apologise. Good thing he’s good at hot, sweaty make-up sex though.

❯ pairings: wonbin x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, angst, smut

❯ words: 1.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, make-up sex, pretty arguing for like a second, wonbin is insufferably stubborn, mention of marking, unprotected sex, lowkey a toxic dynamic oops

an: this fic has absolutely nothing to do with cotton candy, or the song really lol, i was just inspired by this one lyric.

Park Wonbin is stubborn—but not as stubborn as you.

He never thought he’d meet someone who could rival him in that department, let alone end up dating them. It’s a mess, really. Maybe even toxic. Because while he loves every single part of you, when the two of you argue, it’s like fire meeting fire.

It gets nasty. Personal. Downright vicious. Honestly, your friends can’t figure out how you’ve lasted this long—especially since neither of you ever wants to be the first to back down. Apologising? Yeah, no.

Wonbin doesn’t apologise.

But this time, he really should.

It started the same, always does, over something petty like the dishes, or jealousy or when he works long hours and forgets to schedule you in but always seems to have time for the boys. That last one was oddly specific because it’s the exact reason you’ve been screaming at each other in his apartment for the past twenty minutes.

You’d jabbed at his chest with your finger and he’d swatted it away. The fury in his eyes lit aflame, and you weren’t sure you saw an end in sight.

But then he said it.

“If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

That was the end. Because stubborn might as well have been your middle name, and you were ready to make good on his threat—if only his apartment wasn’t so far from yours.

“Fine, I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

“Fine,” he spat.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed off to the bedroom, your footsteps heavy with anger. You didn’t bother slamming the door—too cliché—but the sharp click of it shutting was enough to drive your point home.

You busied yourself with grabbing whatever you’d brought over—a spare set of clothes, your charger, a few toiletries—but the more you moved around the room, the more frustrated you became. Your hands shook as you stuffed items into your bag, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from yelling.

Yelling would give him too much satisfaction, and satisfaction was the last thing you wanted to give him right now.

You throw yourself onto the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. The covers feel cold, they always do when he’s not there to cuddle you asleep, not that you’d want that right now, you’d technically just broken up—maybe—ugh, you don’t know. He’s too complicated to work out.

Instead, you curl up on your side, the pillow barely softening the tension in your neck. And sleep doesn’t come easily—your mind replays every word, every jab, and that final, infuriating sentence: “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

Asshole.

Hours pass, the silence of the apartment punctuated only by the occasional creak of the floorboards and the low hum of the city outside. Your phone screen glares at you from the nightstand, but you ignore it. You weren’t about to scroll through social media for comfort—not tonight.

The doorknob turns with a faint click, and the door opens just enough for him to slip inside. The soft rustle of his clothes and the weight of his footsteps tell you exactly who it is.

You don’t move. Don’t look. Just stay still, pretending to be asleep.

And then the bed dips—but it’s not like you can be mad—this is his house, his room, his bed.

Just…why did he have to be so goddamn stubborn? You’re not going to apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong.

And like you said, Wonbin doesn’t apologise either.

Well…not verbally, at least.

Because within minutes, the shift in the mattress goes from tentative to deliberate. His hand slides across your waist, pulling you flush against him, and before you can even protest, he’s pressing into you—pinning you to the bed, his actions saying everything his pride won’t.

Because when Wonbin knows he’s wrong, he’s bad with words. Instead his body moves against yours, wordlessly pleading for forgiveness the only way he knows how—telling you he regrets what he did.

This is the exact reason he doesn’t apologise. Why should he when he can just fuck you silly and make up?

It’s always from the back after you fight, and you’ve come to understand that it’s because Wonbin doesn’t want to look into your eyes and see any lingering hurt. He's not supposed to be the one that hurts you, he hates it actually.

His hands wrap around your wrists, smashing your palms against the mattress as his slender frame rubs against your back, allowing you to feel every inch of his hot, sweat-soaked skin as he thrusts.

His face finds his favourite place, buried in your nape, because there’s something so possessive about it; and he needs to mark it because he doesn’t want you to leave. He might have said it, yes, but he didn’t mean it. You have to know he didn't mean it.

Your nails dig into the sheets as he licks and sucks, leaving his signature purple love bites across your flesh. You practically mewel into the pillow you’re chewing on when he dips between your shoulder blades and marks there too.

He’s really drilling it home, and you can feel all of the passion and love he has for you poured into his fucking, but it’s almost not enough.

It’s too easy. He’s too easy to forgive considering he hasn’t muttered the word ‘sorry’ since you met him.

But as you turn around to try and even attempt to reprimand him, one look at the crimson tint on his pale complexion and the heavy lidded haze on his eyes has you clenching around his cock. And then the fucker had to go and whimper, the sound so faint and vunberable it was impossible to be mad at him.

“Binnie—” you moan, arching your back to give him a better angle, pushing yourself into his fervent rutting.

Your head rolls against your shoulders, tilting back, needing a better look of him. His unruly black hair damp and sticking to his own face, his lip chewed from biting down. He nuzzles close to your cheek, panting and grunting in your ear and it becomes your undoing.

“Baby, kiss me…” you plead with him for just a little taste, your lips parted, jaw hanging slack and your eyes dazed.

You can’t believe you’re the one begging him right now.

Instead of answering you, Wonbin only grunts and nests his face into your neck, where he kisses and sucks and nibbles on your pulse point as his hips slap against your ass in rapid, needy thrust. He keeps uttering your name, whining it in between his ragged breaths, squeezing both of your wrists until your fingers are tingling.

You can tell that he’s right on the edge, chasing his elusive high deep into your cunt, his sensitive tip twitching and throbbing as it daubs at your inner nerves. Your stomach knots up.

“Oh, fuck, Bin—!”

Wonbin wraps a gentle fist around your neck and guides your face back into the pillows, shushing you breathlessly as he does so. You know why— you’re so damn loud when he fucks you like this, and Wonbin is a jealous man. Your moans are his to hear—not his lousy neighbour who he has seen checking you out a couple of times.

That could start another argument on its own.

As you both settle, your body trembling with aftershocks and his twitching needily, you feel him pull out with a long, shaking moan. Your body reacts, missing the feel of him. You roll onto your back, panting whilst staring at the ceiling and he sits back on his knees.

You look at him and manage a small smile, though his face remains clouded with a frown. His eyes flicker to yours for a moment before darting away. You sigh, already knowing what this means—you’ll have to be the one to speak first.

“Baby, c’mere,” you say softly, opening your arms.

It’s all the invitation he needs. Without a word, he slides into your hold, his movements almost hesitant as he rests his head against your chest. He avoids your gaze, even as your fingers thread gently through his damp hair.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice tender and low. “I forgive you. I love you.”

Maybe Park Wonbin was as stubborn as you.

[snailpebbles]

your fic about Chishiya was so good I feel like you captured his character perfectly 😩 will you write more about him? I can barely find any good writings about him and yours is truly so perfect 😔💓

Patchwork Love

pairing: Chishiya Shuntaro x gn!reader

summary: after being injured in a game, Chishiya drags you off and is somehow more silent than usual. What's his problem?

tags: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, they're both so stupid

warnings: descriptions of injuries including blood, non-sexual unwanted touch, emotional constipation, Chishiya cries lmao

a/n: hope you enjoy :) my writing is rusty lol but I love this trope

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Everything was going fine at first; you were on your own in a level three spades game, lightwork! It was a construction zone with many metal rails and walkways, and multiple wide pipes at the very top. The objective was simple - get to the top before the time runs out. At first it was that simple, that is until the freezing cold water began to pour in randomized sections. A game of strength and luck it seems. There were others from the Beach with you, so of course you figured you'd just team up and make sure no one slips. Wrong! To save their own asses just as the four of you were getting towards the top, they used your body as an easier to grip ladder. Not only did you feel violated, you also felt icy cold fear mixing with white hot rage. What the fuck? You pulled those three up so many times at the risk of drowning and for what?

The water pours down on you as they cheer from the top with just two minutes left, freezing and blinding you as you struggle to actually breathe. Two hands on one thin bar that's already trembling under your suspended weight. Fuck. Everything felt like a blur as you hauled your leg over another bar, using all your strength to not drown from the water rushing across you and to pull yourself onto the walkway. For a moment it seems like something had snapped, your leg overstretched and arms overexerted. You aren't built for this! Your life before consisted of studying and absolutely destroying kids on x-box! As you lay on the metal grating, water having ceased with a heaving chest, Chishiyas face flashes in your mind. Well fuck - you're realizing you like him at the worst possible time. With that motivation in mind alongside the need to deck those three in the balls, you force your aching body up the rest of those rails with ten seconds left on the clock.

The three boys are obviously shocked to see you alive and rush off, once again leaving you behind with no transportation back. Lovely.

You aren't quite sure how you managed to get back to Beach but by the time you do, the sun is beginning to rise. Damn, what if they vacated your room? The morning air is chilly and you know you have some sort of hypothermia if your chilled fingertips are anything to go by, not to mention the way your head is beginning to swim - pun intended.

As your torn up, shaking form stumbles through the gates past a few surprised militants and even more surprised party-goers, Kuina barrels towards you. She looks both put together and a mess, her eyes red rimmed and seeming to water - pun intended - as her warm hands cup your ice cold cheeks. She chokes up at this realization and ushers you inside, muttering something about Ann being a little busy with some project as she leads you two to a familiar door.

Chishiyas face, as calm as ever, cracks when Kuina barges in. He's up in an instant and wasting no time as apparently one look at you is enough to know what you need - or maybe he just knows you. A blanket is around your shoulders before you can blink and now you're on his bed, unfortunately not in the context you'd wish for now. Kuina runs off after Chishiya instructs her to get a whole load of things, but you honestly have no idea what because you're too busy staring at him. Chishiyas face is contorted in a way you've never seen before or at least haven't been the recipient of. His eyes are focused in solely on you, his brows furrowed and typical smirk gone in favor of a grimace. Most notable are his hands resting heavy on your shoulders as if you'd shrug the warm blanket off. Those hands you now realize match those in your dreams are surprisingly warm and unsurprisingly steady - Chishiya was a little less smart than you thought if he didn't know by now that you knew of his profession. The idea of him in a doctors coat distracts you as he gets up from where he was crouched in front of you, reappearing with bandages and disinfectant.

"So..how'd your game go?" You break the awkward silence and feel your cheeks warm at how scratchy your voice is. Must've been the borderline constant drowning. His sharp gaze makes you almost flinch with the weight in it, your own eyes dropping back to your lap. Of course he doesn't respond, only making some vaguely disapproving noises as those eyes scan your wounds. His silence begins to piss you off, that rage from earlier being misdirected at him. Seriously, you almost died in a frankly horrific way and this is all he has to give?

"I can patch myself up. I'm not helpless." The tension rises, twisting uncomfortably in your gut as Chishiya stays in place while you glare at him. With a huff as he refuses to speak, you get up on weak legs. This seems to snap him out of it as he grabs your hips - and just at the right time. Your legs give way as the exhaustion hits all at once to only fuel that anger, a frustrated sound coming from you as Chishiya tuts disapprovingly again.

"Stay still. You're hurt and too tired to move." His voice is rough and annoyingly calm. Is he allergic to worrying? You obey though as he unravels the bandages and uncaps the disinfectant, steeling yourself for the following pain.

The blond has the grace to look at least a little apologetic at every wince and soft cry your battered form gives, even letting you hold onto either his shoulders or jacket. The cuts, scraps, bruises, and blood staining your body worry him even if he doesn't show it. Images begin flashing in his mind of internal bleeding, broken ribs, torn muscles-

"Are you..crying?" Your soft voice breaks the less tense silence, your own tears having dried up some time ago. Chishiya pales as he becomes aware of the liquid dripping down his cheeks and hastily wipes them away, refusing to meet your gaze or lift his head.

"No." He replies shortly, heart picking up its pace as he realizes he has to patch your torn hands. You follow his gaze and readily hold both hands out, skin raw and bleeding still. He winces internally at the sight of your beautiful hands so heavily marred.

Warmth spreads through you as he takes your hand in his non-dominant one to carefully disinfect it, whispering apologies as you hold back cries of pain. Somehow you aren't too shocked by this display of care, an inner part of you having sensed something was different by the lingering looks and the way he is always there. Chishiya wraps your hand with a gentleness you weren't sure he possessed, repeating the process with your other hand until every wound is patched up. Not a word was properly shared, your eyes rarely met, and you didn't comment again on the occasional slip of tears you caught.

"Go change in the bathroom." He mutters after passing you actual clothes, aka his own sweatpants and a t shirt. Once you step back out of the bathroom - definitely not after taking a moment to admire yourself in his clothes - Chishiya does just what you definitely didn't. The admiration is well hidden yet you catch it in the way he turns his head slightly to the left and steps back, as if you're a danger.

"These are really comfy, thanks." An appreciative smile brightens your face and threatens to blind him, so he sits down where you were moments earlier. You take a seat beside him and try to hide your steadily growing flustered state when that damn white jacket is placed around your shoulders. He says nothing so neither do you, the silence now companionable even as sparks burn its edges.

"What happened." It's not a question and you know that, just as you know what happened isn't your fault. The tears, anger and irrational shame, prick your eyes anyways. He doesn't comment, he only takes your pinkie with his.

After a deep inhale and calming exhale, you speak. "It was an easy spades game and I teamed up with three guys from here, but towards the end they just.." You choke up momentarily, but with the way his hand moves to rub your forearm, you know you'll get it out.

"They knocked me down so I was hanging and used me like a fucked up bridge- their hands were everywhere and I know it was for survival only but it was so..so dehumanizing." The words come out softer and softer until you aren't even sure Chishiya can hear, but he does. He only ever listens for you. His face is as calm as ever as you cry, arm light as it wraps around your shoulder to bring you into the only safe haven you have in this fucked up place.

Time passes, you aren't sure how much but you are sure you've dozed off, yet Chishiya hasn't moved once. He holds you close and his fingers still rub circles on your shoulder, mindful of a bruise there as he's memorized your injuries. There's some snacks and another blanket on the small dresser, presumably brought by Kuina.

Chishiya knows you've slipped into that numb state, so he doesn't mind helping you eat some crackers and drink that tea you're so obsessed with. He doesn't mind keeping you right there, right where he can protect you and you can rest; where you can heal yourself. What he does mind is you deciding to break out of this numbness by pestering him.

"You cried." You whisper, poking his chest lightly as his arms tenses around you. For a moment you fear you may have misjudged the air and his actions, envy flooding - pun unintended - through you at the idea that maybe all his patients get such treatment. His answer calms your thoughts.

"Yes, you could say I was..worried. Don't do that again." His warm breath brushes across the top of your head and a faint smile tugs at your lips from the slight roughness to his typically smooth voice. Your head props up on his chest so you can see him and he can't resist looking down at you. His eyebrow raises in a silent question that has you grin, that familiar smirk returning.

"If it gets me this treatment.."

"No."

"Worth a shot."

"..You don't need to be hurt to get my attention." The one-sided banters comes to a halt as your eyes widen, staring at his ever calm face like he hand painted the stars for you. If he could, he would.

With a slight grunt you manage to sit up a little better, worry flickering over Chishiyas face at your show of pain. Damn you could get used to this. Words aren't his thing so what better communication than action? Even with bandages, your hands ever so carefully cup his jaw, moving slowly incase he doesn't want this.

Chishiya really fucking wants this. With the way you're being so gentle, so considerate, when others in his life haven't almost keels him over. But you're injured, mentally and physically, so slow and steady will win this race. The kiss is soft and unhurried, as if there isn't an invisible timer looming over your heads. Time is irrelevant when he whispers your name oh so quietly and his hand oh so carefully caresses your matching tear stained cheek. With every touch, every shared breath, the previous hands are washed away for now. They'll haunt you at night but Chishiya will be there to wipe them away, whether that be with affection or simply being there as you get a snack to soothe your brain.

You know why he cried, why he looked so worried, why it's his clothes you're wearing, and why Kuina said Ann was busy when you actually passed by her lounging in the hall. He loves and he cares, the same as you. It only took almost losing you to realize it.

As you separate slowly and lay down, drawn together as if magnets, you drift off. Chishiya waits patiently as your breath evens out before slipping away.

It's the next morning when you wake up alone in the cold bed, insecure heartbreak seeping in until Chishiya quietly walks into the room, not hesitating with the gentle squeeze to your shoulder and kiss to your head. No words are exchanged when you settle in the chair next to him by his desk, watching him build who knows what as you munch away on those snacks. His ankle his hooked with yours and that is all that matters - you can ignore the split knuckles and prideful hint to his face because he's yours, and you're his.

[betweenthescarletmoon]

Random Thoughts on the Arcane Fandom about Jayce

this is gonna be a mess but I have nowhere else to talk about this.

I've recently noticed how Jayce Talis has been subjected to all kinds of sexualization since the drop of Act 2 of the second season. People have mentioned many times how trauma has made him "hot". A good and well-known example of this is Danny Motta's reaction to episode 5, where he said, "Holy shit, they made Jayce hot! [...] My dude went from looking like a Muppet to the king of Rohan, and all it took was a little bit of trauma."

This isn't entirely new for him? If people didn't hate Jayce back in S1, they ogled him in the scene where he works on the Forge shirtless, which IS kinda the point because the animators are making him very obviously attractive. But most importantly, he as a character has been reduced to his sexual or romantic relationships since the beginning of time.

It seems that S2 is a response to this in a way. His arc from the ending of S1, where he took responsibility of his actions out of guilt for the child he killed, was slightly set aside for Viktor. Well, ALL of his life, dreams, decisions, everything about him was eclipsed by Viktor's shadow because of the whole "all times, all possibilities" twist. He wasn't expected to show up as a Councilor in any of the meetings, and we must assume he quits at some point, but he surely hasn't resigned from his position by the time Viktor wakes up. Apart from that much needed scene between him and Cait, and the one where he attends the memorial (and is attacked by a vengeful mother), we don't see many of his decisions or what leads him to make them, other than Viktor. This is beautiful in a way because we can SEE how it is a trauma response to losing him. He is obsessive by nature, and he clings to what keeps him and his loved ones safe excessively, but I still had to do a bit of mental gymnastics as to why he went back on the second promise: to not build Hextech weapons again. (Hint: it has to do with the fact that VI saved him with HIS weapon, but it went so fast it's hard to process in the first watch.)

Now back to the sexualization problem. Every time I look up his name and trauma, or PTSD, 95% of the results are thirst edits on Tiktok about how hot he is. No joke. One of the more serious results is my own edit. Of course, a lot of people connect with his suffering without naming it as trauma, and that is great. My concern is that there has been so much focus on Jinx's trauma, Viktor's trauma, even Silco's trauma (which are all valid and fascinating to explore), but there's less attention for other characters who clearly show how their own traumatic experiences has shaped them. Vi, Caitlyn, and Jayce are some of the clearest examples of this, and they've experienced some truly heinous things in the show. Trauma cannot be compared, ever. But why is it that Jayce, who lived through an apocalypse that HE knows HE caused, and lives in complete isolation except the "company" of metal watchers, to the point that he loses touch with reality, and is changed so irrevocably that he loses the naivety and starry-eyed optimism that has always defined him...is seen as hot? And more importantly, why is it that there is very little attention to his experiences on that cave? Every scene between him and Viktor is uploaded in 1080 HD quality, but the scenes of him alone? Fighting to survive? Showing remarkable resilience in the face of his suffering? No, that's not as fun. Not a single one of those scenes is uploaded fully, and I have checked many times. (Some people have actually skipped those scenes to focus on Timebomb. I'm...)

I went online and looked up "why do people sexualize traumatized characters" because let's face it, it's real, it's interesting, and I cannot judge or else I am a hypocrite. Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ellie Williams, Dean Winchester, Vi herself, the list goes on much longer but I can't think of others off the top of my head. We connect with their suffering, and we are pulled by their experiences.

However, Jayce is such a complicated case because he is usually thought of as the greedy himbo that fumbled two baddies, or the confused bisexual, or the guy who lost it because of a situationship (much like Vi, who DID NOT lose it because of a failed romantic endeavor bfr). And then the plot goes and tells us, "Actually, yeah, his life outside of Viktor doesn't matter, he's not even supposed to be alive, because Viktor saved him. All of time is completely inextricable from Viktor." People hate meljay because she manipulated him and "trapped" him in a relationship or something, only to celebrate it when something suspiciously similar happens with the male romantic interest? I initially thought it was beautiful too, bc Soulmates, but man. Mage!Viktor really left the man he loved to rot in complete isolation, eating raw reptiles until throwing up, losing his mind. Say what you want about the allegory for Viktor's life, at least Viktor's isolation was metaphorical up until the Glorious Evolution.

Despite us being shown this, people make thirst edits of him in his black fit, and fighting with sexual tension with Viktor. I fear...that I am the only one who finds this tragic. The man forced to create a larger than life persona to sell his work and be seen as an attractive pawn of the system, has become the attractive pawn of the narrative. Viktor's narrative.

Perhaps Viktor was forgotten by the world. But Jayce's kind heart, and brave soul, were forgotten by us.

Just some thoughts to chew about my favorite character and my wish that more people focused on his arc with me

[urauntiefaye]

Okay first things first welcome back queen🫶🏽 second can I request either andteam or boy next doors reaction to their girl friend have really pretty moans🫣

BoyNextDoor Legal Line Reaction to GF Having Pretty Moans(Very short drabbles) 🔞

WC: 220

TW: Smuy, Moaning, Taesan recording your moans,

A/N: decides to do BoyNextDoor since I haven't really don't group one for them in like a hot ass minute. Waaay shorter than normal.

Jaehyun-

You having pretty moans sends him over the fucking edge. He wants to hear you so much, he's also cooing at you too whenever you let out the most prettiest moan ever while he's grinding his dick into you.

Sungho-

Sungho is another who coos at you because of it, encourages you to moan more and louder because he just loves it so much. Could quite literally cum just by the sound of your moans 🥺

Riwoo-

Also has pretty moans so when you two are fucking it just sounds like pure fucking heaven. Your moans get him riled up and just can't help but be obsessed with it. The way you moan his name too.

Taesan-

Bullys you about it, but like doesn't bully you about it. He always has to mention it and says shit like “does it really feel that good?”. Moans motivate him and he def has a secret folder on his phone just filled with audios of your moans.

Leehan-

Another who loves it, I feel like he'd grow soft for it too. Not his dick getting softer, but his heart getting softer. Needs to hear you at all times, and if you try to hide your moans be prepared to have him fuck you hard and say that he needs to hear you.

[thiccpersonality]

5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)

4: The Girls

⚠️WARNING⚠️: there is suicide mentions and attempts in this chapter. Nothing overly graphic, but it is mentioned, so I just thought I should forewarn of that just in case my loves.

Enjoy! 💛

—

Barbara remembers when she first met Batman, it was a pivotal moment in her life, a time where she was just an insecure teenager trying to find her way in the world. She remembers being bright eyed and curious towards her Uncle Jim when she found out he worked with the mysterious Batman; Gotham's faithful caped protector. But before that, it was a point and time in her life that she doesn't like remembering too often (before meeting the Bat that is), she was still suffering the loss of her parents even after all the years of coping–okay, maybe coping isn't the right word exactly? 

Try: lashing out and being rebellious.

It seems as if everything in her life got harder after her parents tragic passing: she couldn't concentrate in school anymore, she could start fights as much as she defended herself from them, she talked back in a way she never used to before, her moods felt unstable most days and seemed to grow worse the older she got, etc.

She felt like the world was out to get her now that her parents-her protection-went away.

As if just because her guardians are no longer in her life that it gives the world the right to bully her.

There were times that she felt guilty over her attitude...especially towards her uncle, he was nothing but patient and kind to her, even when she was being an ass to him, and he quickly started to become like a second dad to her. Something that made Barbara feel guilty and distressed, because it's not like she was trying to replace her biological father, she just...she just recognized that firm yet gentle attitude Jim has as being similar in a way only a father's can be like. Sometimes she believes that's why she talked to Uncle Jim the way she did as a teen, all because she felt guilt over 'replacing' her parents when that's not what it was at all, she was just finally learning to move on.

Barbara may not like to look back at her teenage years too fondly, but she does hold close the sincere affection from her uncle and the day she met Batman, a day that she'll never forget as long as she lives.

————°————

Barbara stumbles back into her teacher's desk, her eyes red and tears hot as they pour from her eyes, her breathes sharp as she loudly inhales for air. Glare held onto the door where another student is being dragged out of it by another teacher, a feeling of satisfaction bubbling up in her chest at the sight of their nose dripping with blood, it's what they get for picking on her so much. The young teen snaps out of her anger induced haze at the feel of a cool cloth being softly pressed to her knuckles, her red rimmed eyes being drawn up to her math teacher. "Barbara."

The ginger only responds with a sniffle, avoiding her teacher's stare in favor of looking at the chalkboard.

"Barbara-" they sigh softly-"you know I'm going to have to call your uncle. You promised me that you wouldn't get into any more altercations with other students, and this fight ended up with someone's nose being bloody."

The girl furrows her brows in displeasure, glaring at the chalkboard at the thought of her uncle finding out about another fight...again. "It wasn't my fault! Lorraine is always being a jerk to me all the time. She started the fight by cornering me...so I decided to end it." Barbara hisses as the pain in her knuckles finally registers, the washcloth dabbing softly at the cuts to her hands, the adult humming at their student's side of the story. "Okay, she shouldn't have cornered you, I agree with that. But, you are a very bright girl, Barbara, and sadly in public school there are...rules and ways both teachers and students have to conduct themselves, okay? I know most of the fights you get into are with bullies...but there's only so many times I can try sticking up for you before the school expels you-"

Barbara snatches her hands away from the cloth, her eyes stinging with unshed tears from the unfair treatment, "But why don't they expel the kids who are picking on me?! I'm not allowed to do anything for myself." The adult opens their mouth to try and explain, closing it instead and pulling out ointment for Barbara to put on her cuts while softly telling her, "Make sure to use it this time...stop letting it hurt on purpose. I'm going to call your uncle now, try to cool down and remember that there's snacks in the lower drawer."

Barbara rolls her eyes and sits in the teacher's chair instead, resting her face in the crook of her arms and forsaking the ointment, dropping it in one of her backpack's side pockets and closing her eyes to think.

.

.

.

.

"-bara." A hand gently rests on the teens shoulder, shaking her body gently. "Barbara, wake up, it's time to head on home." A soft groan escapes the sleeping figure, Barbara sitting up with her eyes closed and smacking her lips as she tries to wake up, when did she even fall to sleep?

The sound of the voice speaking quietly to her registers in Barbara's sleep addled mind, her eyes snapping open to look up at her Uncle Jim Gordon, guilt rising up in her at seeing how tired the other man looks...probably because of her. "Hi...I don't wanna go home right now." The older man stares at his niece before conceding with a tired sigh, "Alright...we won't go home yet. How does burgers sound to you?" Jim nods in thanks to the math teacher before leading Barbara out of the classroom, the girl humming in thought before answering. "It depends on if burgers come with fries and a milkshake?" Jim smirks at his niece, deciding that he can spend a few extra bucks on the younger, what he wanted to say being forgotten as he finally gets a good look at Barbara, frowning at her puffy eyes and scratched knuckles. "Babs, what happened to your hands? Did you get into another fight today?" Jim questions, snatching one of the girl's hands into his own, stopping them in the middle of the school entrance and watching his niece's face closely as she frowns in displeasure.

"Mr. Halloway didn't tell you?" 

Barbara chances a glance at the older man, shoulders tensing at the unhappy look he's giving her. "So...he didn't tell you, why did you even come here when you didn't know what happened?"

Jim rubs at his forehead with a sigh, his tone matter of fact, as if what he's saying is something the younger should already know. "Why wouldn't I come and get you? Your teacher said that you needed me to come to you...it sounded really serious-" he stops as the shorter snatches her hand away, hiding the bruised flesh behind her back as she rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue at the man's concern.

"Well it's nothing, so, you came here for no reason. It was just a fight. I could have walked home by myself."

Barbara makes her way out of the school and towards her uncle's car, the man hot on her heels as she tries to downplay the situation, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion towards his niece. "Barbara-wait! Would you just...stop for one second-" he gently grabs the girl's wrist-"I came here for a perfectly good reason; you are that reason and that's all I need to go anywhere for you. And second, you know I don't like you walking home alone. Third, you keep getting into fights...there is obviously something going on and I want to know what that is, but I can't try to help when you won't open up to me and say anything. And Mr. Halloway called me but didn't explain because he said he wanted you to have the choice to do so."

Barbara digs her nails into the palms of her hands, pulling her wrist away from her uncle's careful hold as she narrows her eyes at him accusingly.

"Cut it with the shit! You always say you'll be there for me when I need you, but you weren't there when my parents died, were you?!" Her words are sharp as she hisses at the older man, like knives expertly targeting its mark as they dig into his heart, Jim frowning down sadly at Barbara.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Barbara, I tried to help your father in any way that I could, but-"

Barbara doesn't know what came over her...she just feels like everyone is against her lately, always making excuses as to why people are able to treat her the way they do, always an excuse as to why she isn't allowed to act the way she does.

Jim sucks in a sharp breath at the stinging slap to his cheek, it's not the worst hit he's taken...but his eyes water simply because of who it's coming from, he doesn't know what to say to start helping Barbara. Eversince her mother and father's passing, there's been a rift between their relationship because he-he wasn't there for the family in the way he should have been, he knows deep down that there's not much he could have done, he can't help someone that doesn't want to be helped, and seeing his brother's alcohol addiction slowly consume his life was soul crushing; to see the person he ate, slept, played with and fought with lose himself to the bottom of a bottle just like their father was a horrifying realization.

But he tried.

God, did Jim try to get his brother help, especially when seeing his behavior change towards his wife and daughter: getting snippier, shouting and screaming for no reason, putting his hands on people, harshly speaking to his daughter in a way that was deeply concerning.

Barbara was a bit too young and innocent at the time to truly pay much attention to those things, not saying she didn't notice them, but she always made little excuses for her dad to avoid the revelation of just how much her father has changed. Every question he would ask his little niece about their home life whenever he next saw her was met with the innocent exclamation of, "My daddy's just a bit tired from work! He throws tantrums like I do sometimes when I'm sleepy!" It hurt to see. But there wasn't much he could do as his sister-in-law didn't want to press charges at the time, she loved his brother so much that it hurt, all for the sake of trying to stay long enough to help him seek help.

Every plead to her for herself and Barbara to live in his little apartment as long as they needed went unheard as the woman insisted that all she needed was enough time for her husband to grasp what she was begging to him about. That one day it'd click and he'd understand the severity of his actions.

But that day never came.

It was a surprisingly cool summer afternoon when it happened; a Saturday, when Jim and Barbara excitedly waved off her parents, the family excited as Roger woke up that day suddenly agreeing to rehab and therapy to deal with personal issues that were causing him to drink.

It was too good to be true, but Jim and Barbara thought nothing of it, celebrating with pizza and ice cream while his niece jumped around the house screaming about how her daddy was finally going to be better. Things were going so well too that day, Roger even having a surprisingly cheerful countenance as he told the family about his decision, the soft look in his eyes unassuming as he looked at his teary eyed daughter; they thought it was just him realizing how much he loves his family.

The too tight-almost desperate-hug Roger gave to Jim and Barbara before leaving was chalked up to a promise that things will only get better from there.

And the kiss the man gave to his wife was slow and passionate; intimate, as if it was a goodbye, the woman just giggling into the kiss as she called Roger's name breathlessly-and somewhat fretfully-at the fact he kissed her that way in front of family. No one thought anything of Roger taking the car keys from Thelma with a small smirk on his face, insistent on how he really wants to drive as he gave one last close look at his brother and daughter before leaving. 

It was only a few hours later when Jim received a call, his sleep being interrupted as he reached for his phone quickly, hoping that he wasn't being called in for work...but anything would have been better than what he answered to.

A car crash; suicide.

He arrived at the scene after leaving his worried and confused niece with a trustworthy neighbor, walking up to a sorrowful looking police partner as they handed him a suicide note that was carefully placed in a small, beautifully decorated jewelry box taped inside the glove compartment with a necklace for Barbara inside of it. The note mentioned that Roger loved his family a lot, especially Barbara, and that he never wants her to think anything that happened was her fault...but that he was unwell for a long time and sought help on his own, stating that the drinks never truly filled that hole inside of him due to the cracks inside, he can't stay full when there's leaks inside the building. He asked for Jim to take care of his daughter and be there for her in a way that he couldn't, that he made the decision to take Thelma with him because he knew she'd be heartbroken if he died on his own, but that Jim and Barbara are strong enough to continue living their lives.

Jim felt like throwing away the note because he felt so...so...angry at his brother for doing what he did, he hated thinking it, but he felt like Roger was being cowardly. Running as he always did like when they were growing up and things got too hard for him, never properly wanting to face the consequences of his actions and leaving anyone and everyone who's ever cared about him to deal with the fallout of it.

It was surreal to go back home to Barbara, the small pup running up to him with her nose twitching, scenting her uncle's distressed scent as she bumped her head carefully into his legs and hugged onto him, trying to comfort him even though she didn't know what was going on yet.

It was the moment he told her what happened that their relationship shifted with each other.

And now, after a few years later, Jim is left with a bitter and upset teenager.

The alpha blinks away his tears-and his thoughts-breathing out slowly, opening the door for his niece and gesturing for her to get in the car. Barbara grinds her teeth together, looking down at her hands and cursing herself for being so difficult, she didn't mean to hit her uncle. A part of her wants to apologize, but another stubborn part of her insists that she has no reason to, so, she keeps her lips shut tight as Jim sits in the driver's seat.

"What burger do you want? The usual you always get?"

Barbara looks at the alpha in disbelief...she...hit him out of anger...and he wants to feed her?

The teen feels her lip wobble in guilt, sitting on her hands to keep them from doing something impulsive to hurt herself with and lowering her head so that her orange hair falls down slightly trembling shoulders to cover the remorseful look she knows that is on her face. "Home."

Jim bites at his lip to stop himself from saying anything to the beta, sighing tiredly and turning on the car so they can head on home.

XXX

Barbara jumps out of the car as soon as it's in park, ignoring her uncle calling for her as she pulls out the extra house key from her backpack and unlocks the door, slamming it in Jim's face just for show at this point, still not wanting the older man to know just how sorry she feels.

The girl rushes to her room and shuts it quickly at hearing the front door opening, locking it and resting her head against it, finally allowing her tears of regret and frustration to fall. "Shit, Barbara, what were you thinking? Are you stupid or something?" She tugs at her hair harshly in the hopes of grounding herself, dumping her backpack onto the floor and pushing away from the door to flop onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow and screaming into it before turning her head to the side to look at her slightly busted knuckles.

Barbara sighs as she flexes her fingers, breath hitching as the torn skin stings slightly from the stretch, her eyes drifting to the fallen backpack by her door as she thinks about what Mr. Halloway said, "Stop letting it hurt on purpose." 

The slight pain to her hand brings Barbara out of her thoughts, sighing as her stomach also rumbles loudly in hunger, the young girl rolls onto her back and groans up at the ceiling as she whispers to herself, "Should've went for that burger." The beta squints her eyes in deep thought before turning to rummage through her drawer, pulling out enough cash from saving her allowance to get a burger and fries, "I don't need anyone. I can walk on my own."

Barbara rolls off her bed and stuffs the cash inside of her shoe, tiptoeing over to the window and opening it, shivering at the cool autumn air that brushes against her cheek...at least the walking will keep her warm enough.

The beta climbs down the fire escape, feeling satisfied with leaving her window open so that when Jim comes to check on her all he sees is proof that she "ran off". It's not like she's sneaking out for any bad reasons anyway, she's just really hungry and is going to get herself something to eat...it's not the end of the world just because she decided to walk outside alone, a girl needs her space sometimes.

Barbara allows her mind to wander as she walks, inhaling the crisp autumn air as she feels some of her worries lift a little, she enjoys this season a lot: the changing of the leaves, the soups and warm drinks one consumes during this time of year, the chill to the air that can be the right amount of cool. It's a bit of a bittersweet feeling this season brings too...but she thinks that it's better than feeling so lost, alone and angry as she has been as of late, this time reminds her of her parents and when things were generally going good for her family, her mom always loved to decorate their house with little pumpkins strewn about the room, the omega doing anything she could to get her hands on fall themed apparel to cover her family from head to toe with.

And her dad.

Barbara can almost smell the cinnamon apple tart her dad loved to bake around this time of year, can taste the cinnamon hot chocolate he always allowed her to help make with him.

She just wants to know where it all went wrong...her parents marriage didn't seem to be rocky at the time, and there wasn't anything that she saw or overheard her father struggling with, but it seemed like one night out at the bar turned to two and two into three and so on. Barbara remembers the day her Uncle Jim told her about the accident, she was stunned into silence as he carefully handed the wooden jewelry box to her, not knowing how to feel at the sight of a beautifully delicate necklace with her name engraved on the front.

But she did know how to feel at the, 'I love you always, my heart', that was on the inside of the heart shaped locket; angry. 

Barbara felt as if the words were a lie, because who leaves behind their ten year old daughter to fend for herself just when things started to get better? But, she knew it wasn't her parents fault for someone else's mistake...if anything, she always thought that if anyone would get into a drunk driving accident, that it would be her father and not some stranger who was stupid enough to be on the road at the wrong time.

She remembered thinking about how she'll find the perpetrator someday and bring them in for the murder of her parents-or kill them herself-she's not too picky.

The beta still has the wooden box stashed away in her room...even though she was in pain and hurting from her father getting into a drunk driving accident, she could never find enough strength to open up the box and wear the necklace like how she promised she would, she just stashed it away and never wore the one thing that would remind her of what she loved most. Barbara shakes herself out of her thoughts as she's arrived at her destination, breathing on her cold fingers as she steps inside of the warm building and taking a seat first, giving her own body time to warm up before she thinks of ordering.

The beta sits there for a few minutes, blankly staring at a stain on the table as her mind wanders off again, snapping out of it at a cheery voice speaking to her.

"Mind if I sit here with you?! Looks like there's lots of room!"

Barbara looks up at the stranger, taking note of his fancy looking school uniform and raising a brow at the tray full of two double cheeseburgers and large fries on the boy's tray. "Cheap burgers? You look like you could afford anything you want and you choose to eat this food?"

The beta frowns as the other takes her response as an okay to take a seat across from her, "I don't think I could afford anything on my own? But my mom can! And cheap, greasy burgers are what I like to eat best-don't tell Alfred that though!" The boy-that Barbara surmises is about her age or a bit older or younger...she can't really tell-just smiles giddily at her, the beta's nose twitching as she scents the other and smells the alpha trying to develop on him, the boy not bothered at all by her hesitation. "Uh...who in the world is Alfred?"

The young alpha sticks his nose up and shakes his head, "Sorry. Can't tell you that. I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Barbara's hesitation turns to irritation as she scoffs and crosses her arms, "Whatever. You're the idiot that-" she blinks in surprise at the hand the other suddenly extends, that stupidly infuriatingly happy smile still on the boy's face as he introduces himself, "I'm Richard! And what's your name, fair maiden? That way I can tell you who Alfred is without getting into trouble for talking to strangers."

The alpha keeps his hand in midair, shaking it around when all she does is stare at it as if it's an alien species.

Barbara rolls her eyes and slowly brings her hand up to shake Richard's hand, not able to control the smirk as the other shakes it up and down enthusiastically. "My name's Barbara...good sir?"

Richard smiles at the girl's attempt to play along, nodding his head and pushing his tray to the middle of the table and gesturing for her to eat his food. "A name that fits the beauty of the girl who bears it-" his blue eyes drift down to the scrapes and cuts on her hands-"What happened to the hands though? Looks like you punched something."

Barbara leans back against her seat and blows a stray hair out of her eye with a proud smirk, "Try someone."

The boy gasps, eyes shining as he leans forward like a little predator, "Tell me more! Some reason I've been cursed to never see a fight break out at my school-I mean, where's the drama and sense of adventure with those people? Anyway, why'd you punch someone? Were they messing with you-oh, oh! Maybe you were playing the hero and saved someone from being bullied?"

Barbara shakes her head, "If by someone you mean me...then yes. That skank Lorraine deserved it." She growls with a small sniffle, turning her nose up defiantly.

Richard nods in agreement while biting into a fry, "Yeah! Wait...who is Lorraine and why is she a skank-excuse my language."

Barbara finally takes a fry and pops it into her mouth, shaking her head with a tsk, "You have to tell me who Alfred is first and then I'll tell you about Lorraine. So?" The boy perks up and nods, pushing one of his burgers the beta's way, "He's like my grandpa and the family butler."

Barbara furrows her brows as she bites into the burger, voice muffled slightly from the food in her mouth. "B't...s'he the gr'pa or b'tl'r?"

The alpha just smiles and nods, "Yes! But he's the greatest butler-grandpa that any kid could ever ask for. His cooking is really good and he smells really nice and he feeds me good food. That's why I said don't let him know that I said I prefer cheap, greasy burgers...he would feel offended at my taste-or lack thereof-in food."

Barbara snorts in amusement, feeling herself relax under this strange boy's innocently genuine ardor. "Yeah...well, I don't think you have to worry about Alfred finding out about anything, I don't even know who he is or what he looks like...so you are covered there." She bites at her burger again, looking up from her food at the feeling of the alpha's expectant look, slowly realizing what he's waiting for and clearing her throat when she's done chewing. "Right, Lorraine. I don't think there's much to say about her other than she sucks. I...tend to get into a lot of fights at school, and then I'm the one that gets into trouble for it. And while I have started my fair share of fights, it's only because Lorraine and her flock of mindless, spineless bimbo and himbo zombies for 'friends' pick on me. My parents always taught me to stick up for myself and that's exactly what I'm doing."

Richard frowns sympathetically at her, chewing on a fry as he shakes his head disappointedly. "And this is exactly what's wrong with our society today-" he leans forward with an impish gleam in his eyes-"Whaddya say about me convincing my mom to transfer me to your school? He has the money to do it without an issue...and I'm sure I can make a convincing enough presentation for him to allow it."

Barbara hates how easily Richard is able to make her feel happy without an issue, she's almost jealous of the way happiness seems to come naturally to the other.

"Your mom makes you do presentations whenever you wanna do something? I admit...you don't seem like a bad kid, but why would you even come to my school, there's nothing special there? And what would you even say to convince him to transfer you? Cause I'm pretty sure the only reason is that you want to beat someone up, Mr. Where's The Drama." Barbara smiles at Richard and tilts her head, genuinely curious as to what his answers will be.

The alpha places his hand on his chest and gasps in mock offense, "Does it really look like little ol' me could beat up anyone? And mama only makes me present certain things cause he says I need to learn to negotiate things better, says he won't have a son that's easily taken advantage of by sweet words and seemingly good deals...we don't want another zun house incident-anyway! I would come to your school because I'm a good person and want to help a new friend out, and only for that reason, thank you very much! And the thing that would make my mom transfer me issssss—drumroll please?" He drums his fingers against the table, "You are a kid!"

Barbara bites her lip so she doesn't smile so hard, a chuckle escaping her at the reason. "I'm a kid? That's really your strongest powerpoint? I see why your mom makes you do a dissertation explaining why you want to do the things you do, you give such sloppy explanations for yourself." Richard pouts and throws a fry at Barbara's head, smirking at her shout of protest towards the 'attack'. "It's not sloppy, it's camp, Barbara. And you're right...I was wrong, I would have to mention that you are a sad and lonely looking kid too." 

The beta gapes at Richard, stuttering and crossing her arms defensively, she doesn't know if he meant that to hurt or what? It definitely seems like he's being serious which is almost so much worse than him trying to be meanspirited about it—at least dealing with jerks is what she's used to.

No, wait.

Something in Richard's eyes looks oddly...perceptive, causing an emotional whiplash for the girl at how his gaze seems carefully watchful; analytical, gone is the playful shine to his eyes in favor of adopting an odd sort of hardness to them...though Barbara doesn't necessarily feel scared because of the look, at least not for any bad reason. It's just...jarring for the boy's eyes to look so intense while his face is still open and friendly, it's as if his eyes scream of a whole different person that the beta doesn't know about, his stare seeming to strip her down to the bone until nothing but her vulnerable little heart is left on display for him to see.

That's the thing that is scaring her.

And scare her it does, enough for her to stretch over the table to cover the boy's eyes, uncaring of the salt and grease on her hands as she's now left with the alpha's friendly smile.

Yeah...that is definitely creepy how different he appears with just his eyes covered.

"Don't be an ass...I'm not a sad or lonely looking little kid-" Barbara hopes her voice isn't as strained as she feels it is-"What in your drama loving mind made you think that?" Gosh, she doesn't even know what possessed her to ask, but there's almost a desperation to know what he thinks.

Richard taps around the table–searching–until he lands on a fry, popping it into his mouth with a thoughtful hum, "I love a good drama just as much as the next person...but I wasn't trying to be an ass-excuse my language-about it. I noticed the way you were spacing out over here-" Barbara's eyes widen in shock at the finger that rests on her lips to keep her quiet, as if he knew she was going to protest-"and before you say anything sarcastic about it, it wasn't just because you were spacing out that I felt something was off. You...you have that look in your eyes, you know? The one that shouldn't be in anyone's gaze...but especially a kid's."

Barbara feels a bit of that irritation flare up at the accuracy of his claims, but she also feels an odd sense of relief that fills her at being seen for how she actually feels; sad and lonely.

The beta sniffles and plops back into her seat, avoiding eye contact with the alpha and shrugging, "Maybe those dissertations aren't always so sloppy?" She manages a small smile at the surprised laugh escaping Richard, glancing his way as he taps his temple with his index finger. "I still know how to use my brain properly! Just because I'm silly it doesn't mean I'm stupid." Barbara nods and studies the kid as he looks outside the window, his eyes scanning the busy sidewalk as if in search of someone specific, her curiosity is peaked by her new...friend, she doesn't think she's met anyone quite as interesting and perceptive as Richard before.

The two now remain in a surprisingly tranquil quietness, eating their now cool burgers and (somehow) still slightly warm fries in companionable silence.

Barbara can feel herself growing a bit sad as they both finish their food, the boy wiping away any stray crumbs or salt flakes from the table with a napkin and back onto his tray. The silence being broken as Richard softly asks, "Was it both your parents? A parent maybe?" With a small gasp, Barbara looks back up into Richard's eyes again, only to be met with a familiar look in his eyes as he stares at her, his gaze sorrowful and apologetic towards whatever it is she had to go through. 

Barbara feels her eyes watering again, nodding and wiping at her tears to try and get them to stop. "M-My mom and dad. S-Same day. Car accident. D-Drunk driving"

Richard hums and stands from his seat, wrapping his arms around the girl and crying with her when he feels tears wetting the front of his shirt, resting his cheek against the other's head and close to her ear so what he says next is heard by her alone. "I'm sorry, Barb. Mine-" he swallows down the lump in his throat-"mine died on the same day too. It was a murder."

Barbara's eyes widen and she peeks up at the boy, her eyes widened in horror, "W-Were you there to...you know?"

At the young alpha's slow nod, she hugs onto him tighter and sniffles while rubbing his back comfortingly. "T-That's–I'm sorry you had to witness that, I can't imagine how you fe-"

Barbara gasps as one of his hands reaches behind his back to tap at her knuckles softly, the bruised flesh aching the tiniest bit as he does so. "I think you know exactly how I felt...you are still in the process of it and sometimes I still am too, but it's not impossible to-to try moving on...I think it's what our parents would want us to do because they loved us. You should try taking care of your hands when you get back home to whoever you decided to freak out today, don't let the pain stay and become you."

"Master Richard?"

Barbara and said alpha both turn their heads to the entrance, the beta sniffling and pulling away from the warm embrace to rub at her eyes, immediately knowing that the older alpha looking imploringly at Richard is definitely an Alfred...he does smell nice and looks like the best grandpa-butler ever.

Richard glances at Barbara, smiling when the beta turns playful and zips her lips shut, mouthing, "Your secret is safe with me."

The young alpha's smile is blinding as he chuckles and mouths, "Thank you", back at her with a playful wink while exclaiming a little too loudly about how he hopes to see her again someday. Barbara waves goodbye as she watches the two leave the restaurant, a coldness consuming her as she makes up in her mind to head home as quickly as possible.

XXX

Barbara curses softly to herself as she stumbles in through the window, knocking over the pencil holder on her desk and looking up to the bedroom door worriedly, half expecting her uncle to come busting through before she realizes after a minute of standing still that the alpha didn't even hear her. "Thank God-" she mutters and crawls the rest of the way in, shutting the window as softly as she can and smiling victoriously as she got away with it-"Maybe I should go apologize?"

The young beta bites her lip when thinking about Richard and Alfred, at how-even though she barely knows them-the two looked to be close with the way the younger wrapped his arms around the older as they walked away.

The boy also mentioned something about not letting things hurt-just like her teacher did-and even how moving on is possible...she is...not really realizing it-but more so focusing properly on what she knew was already there, how she's afraid of moving on and allowing herself to grow beyond the pain she's felt for a couple years now. Barbara knows that she's almost slipped up and called her Uncle Jim dad before...and that was something that horrified her-that still scares her-and out of that fear she treats her uncle unfairly.

Barbara makes her way over to the door, reaching for the handle and pausing when she sees that it's already cracked open, her curiosity peaked as she calls for her uncle.

"Uncle Jim!" Barbara cracks open the door and pokes her head out with a frown on her face when she doesn't get an answer, that's weird...it's not like her uncle to ignore her calls, he always responds no matter what, even if she's just trying to get on his nerves. "Uncle Jim!?" She tries to ignore the anxiety scratching at her chest as she thinks that maybe he's finally left her, that maybe after dealing with her attitude so much he's finally thrown in the towel and left her alone as she so often screams for the alpha to do.

Barbara swallows down the whimper that wants to escape her and rushes to her uncle's bedroom, poking her head into the dark room and hoping she'll see his sleeping form under the covers.

"Crap!" The beta hisses at the unruffled sheets, rushing out of the room and back to her own to dig through her backpack and pull out her phone, freezing over her uncle's phone number when realizing that's probably why she can't find him, he went to look for her. Barbara curses herself again and looks at the thirty plus missed calls from the alpha and the abundance of text messages asking where she's at and to come back home, that feeling of guilt and shame overtaking her earlier anxiety at how much she's truly putting her uncle through, texting a quick I'm home because she doesn't feel brave enough to call him herself.

After her message goes through, the young teen mutes her phone in worry of the older man's possible response towards her, tossing her phone on her bed and burying her face in her hands. One minute she's in her room and the next Barbara knows, her feet and instincts have carried her to the comfort of her uncle's bedroom and onto his bed, her nose seeking out the man's comforting scent left in the pillows as she buries her face in them.

A whine escapes her as it doesn't feel like enough...she wants her uncle, not the pillows or the bed. She wants to be wrapped in a warm hug and cuddles–why did she ever tell him to leave her alone?

Barbara sniffles and wraps her arms comfortingly around herself before heading over to the closet, searching through it in the hopes of finding something to cover herself with that is her uncle's, her eyes being caught on a familiar looking coat pushed into the very back of the closet, a shocked hiccup escaping her as she reaches for the coat Jim wore the day her parents died. She feels like she shouldn't be reaching for it...let alone putting it on, but there's an odd sense of comfort she feels as she slips the heavy jacket on.

For her, it's a symbol of strength and comfort as this is the same coat her uncle wrapped her up in the day he told her about the accident, the beta's fingers shakily buttoning up the coat and sighing in relief as the warmth consumes her.

Barbara hums contentedly into the collar of the coat, stuffing her hands in the pockets and growing confused at the paper she feels in the right pocket of it. The girl sniffles and steps into the light of the bedroom, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought at the familiar looking scribbles on the piece of paper...why does it look so recognizable?

Blue eyes scan the now open paper slowly as she slowly realizes why the scrawl looks so familiar, it's because her father wrote it. But why would her uncle have a note from her father in his pocket? Barbara feels her heart race as she reads the note, so caught up in the letter that she doesn't hear the front door slamming open and Jim calling her name fretfully, her eyes are glued onto each word as the truth is revealed: her father committed suicide and he took his wife–her mother–with him.

"Barb-" Jim sighs in relief at seeing the young teen standing in his room-"where did you go? I called and I texted you but you never responded."

The alpha frowns at the lack of a response, his concern growing at the scent of tears in the air, a soothing rumble escaping his chest as he steps closer to the girl, eyes widening as the hand he tries to set over her shoulder is slapped away. "Why...why did you never tell me?" Her voice is watery as she asks, turning around and holding up the paper accusingly to her uncle's face, "You told me that it was a drunk driver. Why did you-I don't-my father committed suicide and you never told me?" Barbara narrows her eyes at the taller, laughing incredulously at the look on her uncle's face. "And what's that look for? Disappointed that I finally found out the truth, huh?! You thought you could keep this from me forever and that-that I'd what? Move on someday and be happy thinking someone else killed my parents and got away with it? You thought I couldn't-" her voice wavers-"couldn't handle knowing I wasn't enough for him."

Jim's eyes widen and he shakes his head, a distressed sound escaping him as he stares at the girl's trembling form. "T-That's not what it is, Barbara, I promise that it's not sweetheart. Y-Your father...he was really sick on the inside and felt like there was nothing that could have helped him-"

Barbara balls her hands into fists, the paper crinkling as it's crushed, "Then I guess my mom felt that way too?! She had to leave me as well because I wasn't a good enough pup for her or dad-" the girl nods her head adamantly when the alpha shakes his in refusal-"Yes, yes, that's what it was and you all were-and still are-lying about it! You could never be honest to me about a-anything!" She screams and doesn't bother wiping away her tears, sobbing loudly as she looks down at the note with blurry eyes and mutters. "I-I would have d-done what was needed to fix myself if you all would have just asked." 

Barbara's voice is hoarse as she tapers off, running under her uncle's arms as he tries to hug her and ignoring his shouts for her to come back as she runs out of the apartment door.

.

.

.

.

The beta gasps for air, her lungs burning and legs aching as she finally slows to a stop. Barbara doesn't even know how long she's been running for or how far she's ran, but the buildings no longer look familiar to her, maybe she's too distressed right now to fully pay attention to anything? Her attention, however, is immediately caught by a big looking building that towers over the others built next to it, her mind pushing her to go to the very top just to simply sit.

Yeah, just to sit.

Barbara sniffles and looks inside the window, noticing that there is still someone sitting at the front desk but choosing to step into the building anyway, smiling awkwardly as the receptionist looks up and eyes her suspiciously.

"I'm sorry, we're about to close, and there's no children allowed inside of the building."

The beta glances towards the elevator, wondering how she'll make it to the top floor and to the roof, "U-Um...it was starting to get really cold o-outside, and I lost my way as I was walking, so...I decided to come in here to get warm." She breathes on her hands to add to the helpless look she's going for, sighing into her hands softly in relief as the receptionist looks a bit more concerned now. "Are you okay? Do you...do you need anything to drink? I'm sure we still have hot cocoa in the break room, you can take a seat right over there and I'll bring it to you and then we can call someone to come get you."

Barbara nods her head in thanks and waits for the adult to leave, rushing over to the elevator and keeping an eye out for the receptionist as she waits for it to reach the main floor. The beta breathes a sigh of relief once she finally steps inside the elevator, pressing the button to the highest floor and stuffing her hands in her pockets while spacing out.

Barbara can hardly believe what she was told...I mean, she's been grieving her parents for a couple years now only to find out that they never died because of someone else's recklessness, but because of suicide. Honestly, she feels like it's all her fault...she really does, that's probably the reason why her dad started drinking was because she was too hard to handle–and what about her mom? Did she decide to die alongside her husband because she loved him more than their daughter? It's hard for Barbara not to think that, and a part of her is...jealous, about her dad, at the fact that he held her mother's heart so close to himself in a way that the beta couldn't, maybe her hands were too small at the time to properly hold it in her own?

Another part of the teen feels upset that they both decided to go on without her-they were being selfish when she thinks about it-I mean, Barbara would have gone anywhere with her mom and dad if she could, she remembers all the times that she would attempt to convince her parents to let her work with them because being around them was always so much fun that she never wanted to leave their sides.

But it seems they wanted to leave her's.

The soft 'ding' of the elevator snaps Barbara out of her thoughts, the beta sniffling and wiping away tears she didn't even know were falling as she steps out into the hallway, "I didn't think this through." She sighs softly while digging her palms into her eyes and looking down at her city below, the lights are beautiful from up top and so are Gotham's structures, the building she's in adds to that beauty as it's silent...it hides the chaos she knows is going on ground level, but up here? Up here she can imagine that everything is peaceful and just as pretty as the lights make her city seem.

The more she looks down at the sight below, the more her mind is thinking of jumping down. It's truly a gorgeous sight during the night and Barbara thinks that this would be a beautiful resting place...albeit she won't look so pretty after falling down so far, but isn't that horrifically poetic in a sense? The beauty of Gotham during the night from above and the wretchedness of its citizens down below? She'd be-quite literally-jumping into the fray and adding onto the ugliness she knows to be true, but as she's falling, she can close her eyes and at least remember the beauty for just a moment before she forgets.

Plus, she isn't worried about looking unrecognizable after her fall, she imagines that's how her parents looked after crashing: deformed and bent up in all kinds of different ways. She couldn't even get one last look at the two at the funeral, her dad apparently was going so fast that when they crashed it was so bad it changed the way they appeared, her uncle told her they were both found unbuckled at the crash scene.

Barbara touches the coolness of the window and wonders if her features will look just as distorted as her parents?

The beta already feels slightly off-kilter, it's been this way since her father and mother's passing. She can't think right, can't sleep right, can't interact with people normally like she used to because she feels so angry; she sometimes feels like she can't eat right, one second her appetite is here and the next it's gone, she can't smile like she used to before-and she can cry, but that doesn't even feel normal anymore despite how much she's been doing it.

Blue eyes look up at the sky, where Barbara can only hope her parents are, thinking that if this sight is what they see everyday...then she wants to join them up above too. 

Pushing away from the window, Barbara makes her decision to jump, her stomach fluttering at the decision as she looks for roof access–she knows that there has to be a stairwell up here that leads to it somewhere or some form of a utility room with a roof panel. It takes only a few minutes of walking down the hallway until the girl finds a stairwell that leads to the roof, her heart racing in excitement as she turns the handle only to be denied access...of course there's a key for the stupid thing, probably for maintenance or the people that actually work here to have access to–"Damn it!" Barbara punches the metal door and goes back to the window she was looking out of, her eyes burning from the tears pricking at them, she never gets what she wants.

All she asked for was her parents to stay with her forever and that was denied, she wanted the truth and all she got was a lie, she wants to be happy and all she ever gets is sadness; and now that she wants to die-what-life wants her to live?

Anger courses through the beta as she starts pounding on the glass, ignoring the pain in her fists as they bounce off the reinforced material, "Come on! C-Come on!" Her punches get more frantic and sloppy as the window denies her access, a loud cry escaping her as her knees give out and she crumbles to the floor in a shivering heap of despair, sniffling and squeaking pitifully in a way she would if her parents were still alive.

Barbara keeps squeaking and calling out for people who no longer exist, so imagine her surprise at the warmth that encompasses her as she cries, the slight scent of vanilla surprising her...that's not what either of her parents smelled like.

"M-Mom?" The teen looks up and feels her heart stop for just a moment when looking into white lenses, "Y-You're..."

Batman instinctively tucks the pup closer into him when seeing her puffy eyes and snotty nose, lifting up his cape to gently wipe up the sticky substance, "Batman. Jim told me you were missing, are you hurt anywhere?"

Barbara's scent sours slightly at hearing her uncle's name, "I'm–fine. Go tell him that I'm okay."

The young teen does her best not to squirm uncomfortably at the look Batman gives her, a soft sigh escaping the man as he wraps his cape around the girl's shoulders. "Are you sure? I think I saw someone who is in a lot of pain trying to escape it in anyway that she knew how."

Barbara flinches at the fact that Batman caught her trying to...to...you know? Her eyes watering again at the reminder of her failure, "I-I...couldn't-" she whispers pitifully and sniffles-"H-How did you find me?" She looks up at the man curiously, gasping in shock as there's a tap on the window at the exact same time the older says, "Because I'm Batman."

Superman smiles kindly and waves, his smile growing at Batman's displeased grumble, "I thought I told you to head home already? I have things under control here." The Kryptonian just replies with a shake to his head before disappearing for only a second before he's suddenly standing next to the vigilante. "I had to stay! I wasn't sure if she was going to manage breaking the window, and Robin has got it covered below, he's-" Batman suddenly turns to growl at the super, his eyes narrowing behind the mask, "You left him by himself?!"

Superman raises his hands into the air and steps away just the tiniest bit, "I-he's perfectly fine! I wouldn't have left him alone if I wasn't sure he'd be okay. And he insisted that I be with you instead."

Barbara makes a surprised noise at Batman's hands tightening slightly on her shoulders when Superman smiles at him, her eyes watching as the man's jaw clenches and unclenches–is he mad? She opens up her mouth to apologize for being such a burden, but she finds herself pausing at the slight, momentary, uptick of the man's heartbeat before it settles back to a normal pace. "Stop smiling, it's disgusting as well as unnecessary. And there's a lot of things you don't know about Gotham if you think leaving a pup alone in the open here is the right thing to do." Barbara sniffles and glances up at Superman to gauge his reaction, trying not to laugh at the kicked puppy look he has on his face, his dark eyes widening at the reprimand.

"But-"

Batman snuggles Barbara closer to him and growls once more at the Kryptonian, "You left my pup out in the open. Superman, I swear if you don't get your ass back to him-" he pauses at the taller disappearing suddenly, a displeased rumble escaping his throat-"I hate it when he does that."

Barbara looks up at the Bat curiously, it didn't seem like he hated anything Superman was doing...if anything, to her it looked like Batman was touched-maybe even flustered-by everything the alien was doing for him, except leaving Robin alone that is. Now that she's had time to relax and breathe, Barbara feels-I don't know-silly? Shameful? For trying to jump out a window. Especially being caught by two of the most well-known heroes when trying to break reinforced glass, she can't imagine how pathetic she must have loo-

The beta stiffens up in surprise when she's pulled closer into Batman's side. A part of her wants to struggles against it, kicking and crying and screaming about how she doesn't deserve comfort for being so troublesome to everyone...but then again, that cold and lonely side is begging her to just let it happen, that she's been through a lot emotionally and mentally, that maybe receiving some comfort isn't as bad as that other self-destructive side makes it seem.

"W-What are you doing?"

Batman looks down at the stunned pup, holding back a satisfied purr at the child quickly loosening up in his hold. "Hugging you...do you...not know what that is?"

Barbara shakes her head quickly when hearing the concern in the alpha's (that's what the news says anyway) tone, "Of course I know what hugs are-" she sighs at the warmth radiating from the taller, how can someone wearing protective armor be so comfortable?-"But...why are you hugging me? Don't you have people to go save?" Batman frowns at the words and hums thoughtfully while carefully tucking a stray hair behind the pup's ear, "Last time I checked you are a people too, pup. And I always have time for people." Barbara can feel her eyes watering yet again, but this time from the gentleness in Batman's voice, at the concern for a complete stranger—from the realization of everything if she's honest with herself—she feels greedy; selfish, when thinking about how quick she was to choose to leave her Uncle Jim behind in the same exact way her parents passed away. She shakes her head and whimpers sadly, crying harder at the concerned noise the vigilante makes when doing so, "I-I don't deserve any of t-this. I'm s-selfish a-and greedy and s-self-absorbed!"

Batman stays silent, giving Barbara the time to explain herself. 

"M-My parents died a c-couple years a-ago-" strong hands softly squeeze her shoulders in apology, and to let the pup know he's listening-"A car accident. A d-drunk driver crashing into my parents car is what the reports said...or that's what I thought at the time at least." Barbara inhales shakily and tries to press herself closer into Batman's chest, desperate to feel more of the warmth coming from him, "B-But they actually died by suicide. A-And I-" her voice cracks-"I just found out that truth today and it f-felt like too much after e-everything I've already been struggling with. A-And so I came here to just sit on the roof-that's what I told myself at least-but I started thinking that maybe I'm better off dead and that this would be a great place to die."

The young teen pulls away slightly so she can look up at Batman. "But I didn't think a-about my Uncle Jim...he has done everything for me ever since they died, a-and because I was too busy being angry at him, I was about to hurt him worse by dying just like my parents d-did."

Barbara bows her head and whispers, "I'm so sorry. I-I'm scared a-and I don't wanna die, p-please...help me?."

Batman whines slightly at the distress in the other's tone, hugging her tightly to his chest and rocking the now trembling pup as he shushes her gently, biting off his right glove so he can card his fingers through her hair. "You don't need to apologize for hurting, do you hear me? I'm sorry to hear about everything that happened...your Uncle Jim told me the truth about what he did and you'd be surprised at how sorry he is too-" he pulls away to gently tilt the pup's face up, purring comfortingly when seeing the puffy eyes and tear stained face-"I...my parents died too. Someone shot them in an alleyway right in front of my eyes."

Barbara's eyes widen, her mild scent escaping her in an attempts at comforting the other.

"I...I put my caretaker through a lot of hell the older I got because I felt strongly just as you did. And...it has taken me a long time to forgive myself for those things I said or did to him during my grieving process-but, he told me I was still young, and sometimes it can be harder for someone younger to sort through those feelings no matter how ugly they appear. Barbara, Jim doesn't hold your feelings against you, do you know that?" Batman softens at the girl's disbelieving look, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear as he whispers, "But...maybe you hold your own feelings against you."

Barbara gasps softly and bites her lip while nodding slowly, rushing forward and hugging onto Batman with a loud cry, squeezing on tighter when the man cradles her head gently in his right hand while his left holds her back firmly.

The noise the vigilante lets out in response to her puppy crying is surprising, because it's not the sound of an alpha comforting a pup, but a very omegan one. "Y-Your a-" Batman pulls away and smiles down at the girl, bringing a finger to his lips, "Omega. Not even your Uncle Jim knows, so I'd appreciate it if you could help me keep this secret?" Barbara's hands tighten on the omega's cape, her heart racing at the kind smile the man gives her and how he's trusting her with such sensitive information. "O-Of course!"

"And Barbara-" the girl makes a confused noise as her head is gently turned towards the window, cringing at her appearance before she looks at the Bat through the reflection-"Sometimes one of the people or things you live hardest for is right in front you the whole time. Everything is going to work out just fine and I'll make sure you get the help you need, if you really want it?"

Barbara looks at herself through the window, taking in the bloodshot eyes and red nose...she looks-in her eyes-absolutely disgusting, a hot mess if you will. But...she also looks so incredibly alive and real, and at least for right now, that's exciting and something that causes her heart to beat faster and her stomach to flutter excitedly about.

Maybe...maybe her life is now truly beginning? Barbara sniffles and gives a small-but sincere-wobbly smile, "I want it. I want to live."

Batman nods and stands up with the girl tucked into his side, his eyes drifting down  as he realizes Barbara's hands are hurt, "I'm glad. Now let's go get you back to Jim and get your hands clean, he's worried about you."

————°————

It was like that moment breathed a newfound determination in Barbara that she never felt or knew she had before. She recalls quickly becoming just a tad bit obsessed with finding Batman again to thank him for everything he's done for her and Jim on that day, but she never had enough courage to follow him around again until the age of sixteen when she found life to be a bit more brighter.

Anyway, now she's twenty something and a crime fighter. It's kind of crazy how the man she ended up looking up to is the same one she's fighting alongside now, and even funnier is the fact that the boy she met in the restaurant is now her closest friend and brother.

And being a crime fighter for a couple years now has done wonders for her, she's even learned to read people better than before, though not as well as one of Bruce's newest daughters; Cassandra. That girl is actually kind of scary with how well she seems to know everything before it happens, sometimes her and Richard still think Cass is a metahuman and just says she's not-but anyway. Barbara isn't the only girl now-which is a relief honestly-she has two new little sisters now (yes, two) because Bruce took in another feisty one named Stephanie, the blonde is definitely a spitfire, always ready to knock some heads together and prove her worth.

Both her and Cass are always quick to jump into action and prove their value...which necessarily isn't a bad thing, but Barbara knows what it's like to feel lost, so she knows exactly how people can behave when they feel confused or don't know their own worth and roles in life or a family.

Which brings the beta to how concerned she is about her sisters. The two have been thick as thieves ever since being introduced to each other: always cuddling up together, sharing each others things, whispering to one another (or in Cass's case; signing)-and did Barbara mention whispering to each other? The willingness to do the job is admirable, truly it is, but the beta often finds herself worrying at the ways the two girls go about it...they almost seem desperate to show they are deserving of having a place in the family, desperate enough to do almost anything to prove that fact.

Which is exactly why Barbara is so afraid for them.

They don't need to prove anything to the family-to Bruce mainly, especially since the older knows that's who they are going out of their way for. And she gets it, Barbara would be a liar if she said that she didn't, sometimes she still has moments of insufficiency and self doubt that rise within her and cause her to act out sometimes.

But...

If anything Bruce has showed her ever since taking her into the pack as one of his own, it's that there is absolutely nothing in this world that would stop him from loving her, from loving any of his pups really. And that's the second reason Barbara finds herself concerned over her sisters; the fact that neither Stephanie or Cass have realized that Bruce just loves them for who they are and not who they think they-or anyone else-thinks they should be.

Which is how Barbara finds herself following the two teens out of Gotham's borders and into Metropolis, her anxiousness mixing in with curiosity as to why the two are traveling all the way into Superman's territory, they aren't planning on taking the man down to prove their strength...are they?

"You should have notified mom immediately instead of doing this yourself." Barbara mutters to herself and quickly glances down at the touchscreen on her bike showing the trackers she hacked back into on the girls bikes, holding back a very audible groan as the two red dots finally stop near...an... abandoned Lex Corp research facility? Barbara taps on the screen to make sure it didn't glitch, why did Steph and Cass come all the way out here for this specific building? In all her research on this one facility, it's the...least dangerous of Lex's buildings (when it was operating that is), all his staff seemed to focus on is regular science research and lab testings, nothing out of the ordinary there. 

But who is she kidding? It's Lex-freaking-Luthor, there's most definitely something going on.

"You could have just asked to come along, y'know?" 

Barbara tenses for just a second before relaxing with a soft sigh, taking her helmet off to face an amused looking Stephanie, "I know...but it doesn't seem like either of us should be here in the first place-" her eyes drift over to where Cass stands, raising a brow at the two-"Speaking of, I'm guessing this is exactly what you two have been whispering to each other about the past few weeks now? Tell me girls, why are we here?"

Stephanie bristles at the woman's tone, her shoulders tensing as if prepared to fight, "You aren't planning on telling ma...are you?"

Before the older can reassure Stephanie that she could have already informed Bruce of what is transpiring right now (but didn't) is interrupted by Cass stepping forward with a hand on Stephanie's elbow to calm her, a soft sigh escaping the shorter girl. "She could have already told mama already, but she didn't Steph, I think she wants to know what's happening before thinking of saying anything-" she pauses her signing to move one hand in a 'gimme' gesture before continuing with a victorious smirk-"And I told you the plan would work! Barbara followed us just as planned. So I expect my money later."

Barbara keeps her eyes on the girl's hands, her face morphing to one of confusion and disbelief at the word 'plan' being used.

"Wait, wait, wait! You mean, this whole time, you both were being so obvious just so I would notice you both?" The beta looks back and forth between the teens and sighs softly at seeing the matching looks of humor they both wear, "What exactly is going on here and why are we at Lex's researching facility? That, might I remind you, is abandoned." Steph-at Cassandra's prodding-concedes to the poking of her side and explains what's happening, "We can all agree Lex Luthor is an extremely stupid man, right?" That's...not what Barbara expected, but she can work with that, "Uh—I guess so? It depends on the when, where and why I guess. Why's that matter?"

Stephanie crosses her arms, "It matters because of what you just said: 'it depends on the when, where and why.' We know he's super smart-"

Cass signs, "Except for when he's being super stupid."

"Yeah, except for when he's being stupid. But today is one of those days he's being really smart...so smart to the point where he's done something potentially reeeeeally stupid." Stephanie reaches into a bag she brought along and pulls out a red folder, "Do you know what this is-" she pauses at the troubled look on Barbara's face and nods-"Ooookay, seems like you know exactly what this is-what?"

The older rubs her eyes with her hands and groans, "You took one of mom's important folders? You know he doesn't like us touching his stuff, but especially his folders-"

Cass tries to hold back an amused smirk, "Especially Stephanie...last time she tried to color code them with style, remember?" The blonde huffs and rolls her eyes, pursing her lips in displeasure at the memory of being scruffed and scolded, "It's not my fault mom chooses boring colors to keep his papers in. I still think spray paint was a wonderful idea to color code them with." Barbara can't help but to smirk at the memory, "You're almost as bad as Richard...he keeps adding stickers and glitter to B's stuff-wait! It's not about those things right now you two. You know we aren't supposed to touch mom's things, but especially the color coded file folders-" she narrows her eyes disapprovingly at Stephanie whispering about how the colored folders was done because of her...which is true (because she wouldn't stop spray painting the cream colored material), but that isn't the point right now. "That isn't the point, Stephanie, you aren't supposed to have your hand on these-wait..."

Cass and Steph look at each other curiously before turning back to Barbara.

"How–did you even get your hands on this?! Bruce is always careful of his things and I'm pretty sure he has every document and copy of said document numbered and remembered."

The two puff up their chests and smile proudly, "We distracted mama and made copies of the file. Which isn't too hard to do considering how much he loves us, but it was hard getting everything back in place the way he had it." Cassandra signs and gestures to the red folder, "But the contents of said document are exactly why we needed you to follow us. We assumed you were the safest bet as there's some sister solidarity going on here between the three of us, we could have brought Timmy along...but he would have felt too guilty keeping a secret from mama and told on us, so, here you are."

Steph nods towards the folder, "You know that very urgent matter that ma and Superman have been slipping away for? Apparently it's because a little birdie in the villain community let it slip during a fight with Metropolises sunshine child that Lex Luthor has been working on a clone of the Kryptonian." Barbara's eyes widen, and despite her inner voice telling her to just call Bruce instead, she opens up the folder and looks over the papers, her eyes skimming them to see if anything hops out at her. "Wait, it says here that Lex has been working on this clone for at least more than at least ten years now..."

Steph nods, "Which means that he's had plenty of time at perfecting this. We know he's attempted cloning or even crossbreed projects before, but working with alien DNA is a completely different thing, so I wouldn't be surprised if it took him even longer than usual to figure things out."

Barbara rubs at her temple, realizing just exactly what her little sister meant at the beginning with her question about Lex Luthor, "He's being so incredibly smart right now. Wasn't this same exact building the one where he first used Kryptonite on Superman? One of B's files reports that Lex drew blood from him after taking a chance on his theory that Kryptonite was a weakness, a theory that paid off well as it turned out to be true, he lured Superman to this facility not just to test a theory out...but I think it was to get some of his DNA if he happened to be right."

Cass smiles at Barbara, "Seems we aren't the only one who reads the files, but yes, he lured him out here for those exact reasons. Luthor wouldn't have made such a bold move if he didn't think he would win or have a backup plan, pretty sure in my research one of the materials used in this building was lead, which Luthor knew Superman couldn't see through at that point. Pretty sure egghead had an escape plan if things went south."

Barbara's eyes widen at the implication, "You two think that he built escape routes throughout the building? It would make sense, it's not like Superman could see Luthor escaping or even if there are layers to the structure."

Stephanie nods in agreement, "It's also suspicious how not too long later they 'shut down' the building. We think it's been a cover this whole time and there's something going on underground that Superman doesn't know about. I mean, the man would still have been fairly new-I think-to this superhero business at the time, so after the fight and Luthor going so far as to demolish the building to the point of rubble he would have found no reason to be suspicious of anything...at least not enough to come back here and check on things. Plus, we know how forgetful Superman can get sometimes...he doesn't take into account certain things that we as humans would, so he probably paid no mind to the fact his DNA was left anywhere during the stabbing."

Barbara sighs, "He would have been too focused on the fact he was able to get stabbed in the first place."

Everyone remains silent for a few minutes to process everything before Cass steps forward with a hopeful look in her big brown eyes, "So can we count on you to help us? You-besides Timmy-are one of the most tech savvy out of everyone, we are pretty sure there must be cameras or some sort of electrical output somewhere for you to get a signal or something from. Please? Mama and Mr. Kent have been working hard to track this clone down, we could help a lot here and show him we can achieve more."

Barbara looks up, prepared to say no to offering them help...but the adorable brown and pretty pale green eyes that look desperately at her for help is-in all honesty-all too familiar to the beta, enough to give her pause.

"I...we should really call mom."

Stephanie and Cass look at each other before each taking a place at Barbara's side and hugging onto the woman, nuzzling into her neck as they stare imploringly up at her. "Pretty pleeeeease?"

Barbara feels her resolve crumbling under the pouty lips, soft pup-like squeaks and the big eyes the two girls give her, realizing that this is exactly how Bruce must feel whenever he looks at his children.

————°————

Usually days aren't this nice for Bruce (besides seeing his babies of course), usually there's always something or another to be concerned about, but surprisingly enough, the omega was able to...relax?...in some way today. If you call him trying not to die constantly from heart failure as relaxing, then yes, he's enjoying himself immensely.

Despite the cause for his impending heart failure being right in front of him.

Bruce feels his nose twitching not in the attempts of getting a whiff of Clark's scent nervously as he sits on Clark's slightly worn couch, why is he here in the man's apartment? Hell, why is he even here in Metropolis?

"Bruce, do you not find the snacks pleasing to your tastes?"

The omega snaps out of his increasingly disturbing thoughts of anger as to why he can't properly smell the alpha around his own den, blinking away the far away look in his eyes and paying attention to the alpha's now worried look, why does he look that way? He shouldn't. "The snacks? Oh, yes, thank you for the snacks Clark-" he takes a delicate bite of the pastry the other handed to him, surprised at how it's flavored in the exact way he desires his sweets to be-"this tastes delicious, really, where did you get these from? Maybe I can bring some back to my pups."

Clark feels his heart flutter at the words, knowing he's failing at hiding his pleased smile as Bruce squints at him as though he can physically see light radiating off him.

"I made them!" Oops! Too excited, "I mean...I made them myself. You don't seem like someone who would just eat any kind of food given to you, a-and I know how much you enjoy this pastry as I smelled it on your breath the last time I ran into you and I knew it must have been homemade as the last time you got this snack it was from a bakery and you didn't like it."

Clark feels like he was rushing his sentence, each word running into the other as his nervousness grew at him exposing himself. What if Bruce thinks he has horrible breath because of what he said?

Bruce stares at the alpha in bafflement, doing his best to avoid smelling his own breath to be sure it doesn't smell so strongly...when he wanted Clark to notice his smell, that isn't what he meant. "O-Oh? Does my breath usually smell so strongly? I apologize for...um...assaulting your senses like that, Clark. But, you were right, Alfred made these for me last time I ate them...I prefer a lot of homemade foods and snacks, I–guess I'm a little too picky in that way."

Is...that insecurity in Bruce's tone?

Clark feels his alpha grumbling in displeasure at the omega looking away for a split second, in Bruce speak, that means he's sorry–and he has no reason to be sorry.

'You smell amazing: your scent, your breath, your hair–your everything really. And I wouldn't mind scenting you everyday for the rest of our lives, because that's how good you smell.' Is what Clark wants to actually say...but he's an unmated alpha with an unmated omega—alone—in his apartment together, he can't say that to the other without seeming like a creep. "You don't smell strongly-" Clark swallows nervously as Bruce makes eye contact with him-"You smell really...sweet and soft in the best of ways, so no worries. I should apologize for startling you in that way...I just—it's easy to use my senses for certain things and...I just like making others happy, so I smelled the ingredients of what you ate last time and remembered so I could make something you'd enjoy."

The alpha gives a sweet smile to Bruce, "And you shouldn't worry for being 'too picky'. It's not your fault that you have standards for yourself, even if it's just with food. I, for one, don't think you could ever be too choosey."

'I would feed you whatever you wish for the rest of our days', is something Clark has to beat down with a metaphorical stick as he almost says it. However, the pink tinge to Bruce's cheeks cause the man's nostrils to flair with barely concealed excitement as the omega's scent slips through the patches on his neck the tiniest bit–and what a scent it is–it smells like a warm and slightly spicy dessert...aaaaand it immediately worries Clark because of how much it makes him want to bite the other.

"Thank you, Clark-" Bruce's hand unconsciously raises to play with the back of his hair as he takes another bite of Clark's handmade pastry just for him, his eyelashes fluttering as he holds eye contact with the alpha while biting down, unaware to the affect he's having on the other-"It...amazes me how considerate you can be towards others. It's kind of disgusting-"

'That's why I love you so much,' is not something Bruce can really say to Clark, especially not when the other could have someone so much...better.

The slightly defeated noise coming from across him causes Bruce to refocus on Clark, the omega panicking internally at the-in all honesty-crushed look the other wears, why does he look so-"You think I'm disgusting?"  The alpha and omega blink at each other awkwardly for a few tense minutes, Bruce processing what the other means and almost choking on his dessert as he rushes to explain, "No-" curse his inherent reactions of mild to severe disgust in the face of people being genuinely kind-"It's not you, Clark, it's me...really. I'm...I'm from Gotham."

Bruce trails off awkwardly, trying not to scream at the flimsy excuse, his inner omega practically howling at how any future attempts of romance is off the table. The cards are no longer where they lie because Bruce-in his infinite lack of proper emotional skills (at least towards adult humans-I mean, aliens)-flipped the table when peeking at the hand he was dealt, abruptly ending the game. Thankfully, Clark just laughs, the sound causing Bruce's ears to tingle and his belly to grow warm and the omega's lips to unwillingly turn up into a genuine smile. "Well...I don't think that I can argue with you there exactly, guess it's an instinctive reaction to kindness? Um...though I think you are very kind yourself despite everything."

Bruce feels like his heart is actively in the process of failing, pretty sure he's dying right now with the way he has to hold back the severe pounding of it, his body can't decide whether to continue pumping blood to his heart or his face.

Still, he feels like he should try explaining what he actually meant. "I meant disgusting in a good way, j-just-" dang it! Stop the stuttering-"so you know? It's like cute aggression but when I see anyone who's just...genuine, I want to call them disgusting because I have no other words for them." That was singlehandedly one of the dumbest answers Bruce feels he ever gave to someone, maybe he got it all wrong before? He's actually trying to kill himself with the embarrassing crap spouting from his own mouth.

Clark sits up a little straighter in his seat, "Oh? You...think I'm cute?"

Bruce scrunches his nose up, "No, children and babies are cute. Animals are cute. Even old people are cute-" his omega practically claws at his mind at the alpha's shoulders slumping slightly-"U-Uh, not saying that your face isn't-"

He feels his face growing even warmer at the intense look the alpha gives him suddenly.

"I mean it's not-not cute–I mean, you aren't cute! No, what I'm saying is that you look hot, sexy, drop dead gorgeous, like a god in the flesh, sex on legs han-" Bruce bites his tongue when Clark leans forward a little as if a spell has been cast on him to listen to whatever it is that the omega says, his eyes sparkling with something Bruce is too distracted to put a name to, "I-I think you look appropriate." He feels like screaming at the way Clark just stares at him...he doesn't know if he wants to burrow himself away in his nest forever or dive-bomb out of the window? But, his inner omega is practically preening at the attention the alpha is giving him.

Clark holds Bruce's gaze, his alpha sticking its metaphorical chest out at how pink the other looks...like a perfectly ripe strawberry, good enough to sink his teeth into.

Just one taste.

One taste wouldn't hurt, right? Sink his teeth gently into Bruce's cheek just to feel the flesh give under the pressure?

Yeah, just one. Little. Ta-

"Clark?" Bruce's soft voice pulls the alpha out of his trance, the Kryptonian cursing himself internally for almost letting his fangs grow longer...pretty sure they almost were dripping with the amount of saliva built up in his mouth.

The alpha blinks away his intrusive thoughts, embarrassed to realize he was starting to crawl on his very unstable coffee table (that Bruce has been trying to convince him to get rid of for awhile now), clearing his throat and acting like he's dusting something off of the surface. "T-There was something right there on the table that you definitely couldn't see because I have super vision and you don't."

Bruce furrows his brow at the statement, he hates being reminded that he doesn't have powers, "I know that you do. No need to rub it in, Clark."

The alpha winces at his poor choice of words, he was just rushing to get something out of his mouth to explain his creepy behavior. "That's not what I meant to say, B, you know I didn't." He watches as the omega moodily bites at the rest of his pastry, his voice softly rumbling in satisfaction when the other grows disappointed when his next bite is full of air and he notices the pastry is gone, "Would you like ano-"

"Yes. Now."

Clark wants to feel irritated at the interruption...they've been over Bruce's demanding attitude before, but the need to provide for his the omega overrides the need to tell the shorter to say 'please'. "Okay, okay. How many?"

Bruce hands the alpha his plate, "All of them?"

The taller laughs at the question in the other's tone, "You don't sound so sure about that. Plus, I thought you wanted to take some home to the pups?" Bruce relaxes back into his seat, purring softly in happiness at how the other remembered, "I was just testing you to see if you remembered me saying that. I do want to take some home to them, unless you were planning to eat the rest?"

Bruce can't see Clark's reaction to his purr as he's facing away from the kitchen, but the alpha is losing it, softly banging his head against his fridge at the happy little noise.

"No. I wasn't planning on eating any of this, it was all for you anyway."

All for him? That sounds satisfactory to Bruce's ears, he sighs softly and looks up at the ceiling to try and remember why he came down here in the first place, his memory is never this bad...but Clark has the special ability to make him feel stupid and clueless to everything.

'Beep' 'Beep'

Scratch that. One of his kids is calling him, he can't remain stupid or clueless.

Bruce tries not to jump to the worse case scenario as he clicks on the comm in his ear, "Batman–"

"Mom-ah!" Barbara gasps as she's thrown into a wall, "We aren't here to hurt you–Spoiler, get down! We need you to come–" her earpiece makes a static noise as a series of loud bangs are heard, the sound of Barbara screaming for Spoiler causing Bruce's heart to stop before she's heard grunting, maybe throwing something? "Barbara, sweetheart? What's going on?!" He stands up from Clark's couch, rushing over to the window in the attempts to climb out of it, key word: attempt, as a hand gently rests itself on the small of his back.

"Are you really about to jump out of a window? Let me fly you."

Bruce opens his mouth to argue, but the sound of Stephanie's strained voice in his ear makes him forgo it, "M-Ma...we need you and Superman down here–to the right, Barb! We kind of ran into a situation-ugh!"

By the time Bruce looks over at Clark, the man is dressed in Superman regalia, the omega tugging on the other's cape insistently as the alpha gets the idea and lifts the shorter into his arms. "We'll be right there! Clark, I have a suit hidden somewhere not too far from here-" at the Kryptonian's curious looks, Bruce sighs softly-"it was an abandoned building, Superman, it's perfect for a hiding spot." He clicks at his earpiece again, "Spoiler, what's the situation you're dealing with? Is it a code Arkm-23a?"

The two adults wait in a tense silence before Spoiler speaks up, her tone soft and guilt ridden, "Um...the situation isn't in Gotham, mama. Try: code 2813-Krypto-SP #56C." A quiet curse escapes Superman, which is how Bruce knows the situation is serious, and suddenly he's reminded as to why he came down to Clark's apartment in the first place, his voice a distressed growl as he finally responds to his daughter.

"You found Superman's clone?!"

————°————

Spoiler wipes at her bloody nose, her vision blurry as she tries to shake off the pain, the sound of her mom screaming in her ear doesn't help the concussion she's probably gotten from Clark's insane clone, "H-How many times do we have to tell you that we aren't here to hurt you, #56C? We just wanted to find you." The teen curses as she barely manages to stumble away from the other throwing a chunk of metal at her...it's a great thing Barbara turned off the security cameras and alarm systems, or else they'd have a lot more trouble with security trying to rush in.

The clone growls at her, "Where's Superman!?"

Spoiler tenses in caution at the experiment rushing towards her...to be honest, this plan isn't going as planned, they only expected to find a blob of something or an unfinished project, not a fully developed teenager with severe anger issues. They didn't even bring Kryptonite, which was actually a very dumb decision the blonde admits was probably her oversight, "He's coming! We promise, okay! Can you just calm down for one-" It seems as if everything is moving in slow motion as Spoiler watches Black Bat descend from the ceiling like a bat out of hell, her legs wrapping around the clones head as she uses the force of her body to drag the boy to the floor with her, the small hands moving in a series of strikes as she attempts to see if pressure points work. Stephanie realizes that the younger is testing for any weak points, someone has to do it she supposes? But the blonde alpha finds herself worrying as the clone easily grips her sister's wrists in his hands and easily extracts the girls hands off of his body, the boy grunting as he slams the Asian girl harshly back into the floor.

Black Bat winces as the taller rests his weight on her smaller body–he's surprisingly heavier than he looks–her hands twisting in a test of the grip he has on her while her lips pull down to a frown at not even budging. "How do you know Superman?!" 

The creaking of metal is heard before the roof caves in to reveal Superman and Batman, the alpha's nostrils flaring at the familiar scent in the air...it's definitely his alright, but there's also something not his about it, it's weird and causes the man to release his own scent in retaliation to the clones domineering one. "Because I'm a close friend. That's how they know me." The clone throws Black Bat into a wall, his eyes narrowing at Superman as he leaps up to the man, throwing a harsh jaw punch as the Kryptonian crashes through a couple walls and away from the rest of the group.

Batman frowns worriedly as he rushes to Black Bat's side, his hands quickly fluttering around the teen as he checks for any injuries, "What in the world were you girls even thinking?! Do you know how dangerous this was to come here alone?"

The teen frowns at how her mama is displeased, lifting her hands to quickly sign an explanation, "We just wanted to help you and Superman...we know how busy you've been and thought that we could do it together." The omega stands up with his daughter, attention shifting to Spoiler as the girl wobbles in place, a worried sound escaping him at the sight of his pup with a bloody nose, "You girls help me everyday, what do you mean? Spoiler, baby, can you hear me? See me properly? You can barely stand, puppy."

The blonde stumbles into her mom's arms, taking a deep breath in to avoid puking as the world spins, "F-Fine. S'my fault, ma...I forgot...the-the Kryptonite."

Batman frowns at the slight slur to the blondes words and her slow pace, his instincts flaring to check on her but also not to as this isn't a safe place to do so, especially not when he can hear a fight going on a couple rooms over. "This isn't any one person's fault, sweetie, where's Oracle at?" A tug on his cape causes Batman to turn towards Black Bat, following where the girl's pointing to and whining at seeing the woman holding her arm to her chest, lip busted as she types something into the computers.

Batman frowns worriedly at the sight of his eldest girl and leads his youngest two over to her, his hands reach out to the woman as he turns her around, "Are you okay?"

The younger takes a moment to realize who's touching her before she nods slowly, her gaze lowering to the floor in shame at what she allowed to happen. "I'm fine, mom...I'm so sorry, I k-knew I should have called you. I was stupid not to-" she's interrupted by Batman tugging her and her sisters in for a careful hug, his voice a soothing rumble as he comforts his pups, "But you did contact me. You and your sisters ended up doing the right thing, baby, but we need to get you three out of here...I'm pretty sure Spoiler has a concussion and it's not safe." He stops as the eldest girl doesn't let him lead them back up top, the beta shaking her head with a frown on her face.

"W-Wait! You need to see something. The only reason why the clone is so angry is because he's been brainwashed to hate Superman...apparently they would torture experiment #56C and then make him think it was Superman that hurt him so badly. Lex made sure that hate would be the only thing in his clones mind when thinking of the Kryptonian."

Batman pauses, growling protectively when a loud noise is heard behind them from Superman and his clone fighting, holding Spoiler and Black Bat to his side while he keeps his eyes on Oracle.

The ginger types in something to the computer, clicking on a file she knows that Batman has never seen before, her eyes trained on the omega's reaction as he quickly scans through the notes on #56C–"I know, right?" The beta whispers in disbelief as the omega gasps softly in shock, holding her little sisters tightly in her arms as Batman hands them off to her and runs through the hole in the wall and towards the fight.

Oracle turns to look at the digitally highlighted words that caught her mom's attention, unable to stop her soft chuckle as she cuddles into her sisters. "I think we'll be leaving here with a new brother, girls."

XXX

Batman grapples down a hole in the floor, his heart racing as he gets closer to Superman...and their son, his nose stinging at the strong scent of two angry alphas in a heated battle. "Superman!" The alpha immediately turns to look at the Bat, leaving an opening for the younger half-Kryptonian to place a mean roundhouse kick to the older man's face, the teens attention diverting to the man dressed in black.

"Who are you? Are you with Superman?"

Batman feels horrible for the way a part of him trembles excitedly at the teen asking that question, even when he knows the boy doesn't mean 'being with Superman' in a romantic context.

The omega clears his throat softly and stands tall, nose lifted high as he nods, "Yes, I'm Batman. We work toge-hk!" Hands suddenly squeeze at Batman's throat, the vigilante remaining calm as he looks at his pup, not one that's been adopted (though of course that doesn't make them any less his kids because of that fact), but it's...shocking to see something that is–technically–biologically his and Clark's.

.

..

...

....

Oh. My. Gosh!

Him and Superman have a kid together?!

Batman takes a close look at his pup's face closely despite the hands tightening on his neck, his gaze softening under his lenses when seeing the heterochromatic eyes; the left Clark's deep, midnight sky blue and the right his own icy blue color. The omega tries opening his mouth to speak, a wheeze escaping him instead of words, "W—hat's...yo–ur...n–name?"

The clone narrows his eyes at the man, "#56C."

Batman gasps for air, his hands finally reaching up to grab at the boy's wrists now that his airways are officially constricted, "N–o...h'w...a—bout..."

#56C hisses in pain as a large hand wraps around his wrist tight enough to cause him to drop Batman, grunting as he's thrown harshly into the wall and pinned to it by his neck, his breath hitching at the memories of Superman doing that same exact thing to him everyday before Luthor saves him. "Get your hands off of him." The boy's eyes flutter as he claws at the older man's arm to try and break free, trying to push down the fear at being faced with his biggest enemy, Luthor has warned him against feeling fear...it does him no good in battle.

Batman coughs loudly, hand on his quickly bruising throat as he pushes himself up and off the ground, feeling defensive at the sight of Superman manhandling their child.

"Superman, you're scaring him." His nose twitches at the sour scent of fear mingling in with the older alpha's anger. Batman grumbles in displeasure as the stubborn alpha doesn't listen to him, placing a hand on the other's arm and tugging at it, "Let him go–" he growls low; motherly, when Superman still doesn't listen–"Now, Superman!" The protective tone seems to register in the Kryptonian's mind as he suddenly releases the pup, stepping away as he snaps back to reality, though his brows are furrowed in irritation. "Why are you being so protective of him? He was hurting you, B." The omega continues to hold onto the alpha's arm until his hand actually leaves the boy's throat, "He doesn't know any better-" his tone is gentle-"He's been brainwashed into thinking you're the enemy as well as anyone attached to you. Superman, he's just a boy."

Superman opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, defensive as his mind register's Batman's protective tone as being in favor of another alpha (even when that alpha is partly himself). "I was just trying to protect you and the girls, is that so bad? How else am I supposed to respond to a clone Lex Luthor made of me–of me, Br-Batman! This is my worst nightmare come to life. I've never wanted to give into the anger and hurt the people I've sworn to protect...especially those I love and care for most."

Batman feels himself softening at the sight of Superman's apprehension, "I know you're scared...but, did you not promise to protect the innocent? The boy didn't ask to be created by Lex Luthor of all people, and as I said before, he was brainwashed into thinking you as the enemy; the cause to all his pain and suffering, not the savior from it. Who's more innocent than a victim of a very horrible circumstance?" Batman turns his attention to the frozen boy on the floor, frowning at how intimidated the child looks curled up into the wall...he must be having some sort of flashback with the way he's staring off into space. "Can you hear me, pup? "

Superman looks down at the pup curiously, unable to shake the bitter feeling growing in him at the gentleness Batman is giving the other. However, the omega's voice speaking to him interrupts those feelings as he gives the other all his attention, "Do you feel anything when looking at him, Superman?"

Batman looks up at the alpha from where he's crouching next to the clone, his eyes carefully watching the man's face morph into a look of befuddlement, his deep blue eyes looking down at the boy curiously, "I...don't know? Maybe. There's something there that I can smell isn't just my scent...it itches my brain and I don't know why. Maybe it's Luthor's scent?"

The omega grumbles to himself watching the moment what Superman just said sinks into his own brain, the man's eyes widening dangerously big as the panic sets in.

"Stop thinking for one second you idiot-" Batman growls at the stupid alpha not understanding who exactly the boy is to him-"You are the first parent and the second one...the second one is me, that's what you're smelling. I bet that's the cause to your brain itch." Superman freezes in place as his brain tries to process the new information...#56C isn't his and Lex's child, but his and Bruce's?

That's...definitely not what he was thinking-and Oh. My. Gosh!

Him and Bruce have a kid together!?

Superman shakes his head, guilt overtaking the shock as he realizes the person he was  pummeling wasn't just him, but that it's his and Bruce's child. His alpha howling in despair at how he's already failed as a father.

Batman extends his hands towards the alpha at seeing him pull away, "Wait, Super-" a burst of air brushes the exposed parts of the vigilantes face-"man..." He sighs dejectedly at the empty space where Superman once stood, not properly able to ponder on the feeling for too long as his son makes a distressed noise. "I was scared...I'm sorry that I was scared, I know it doesn't help me. I let him escape."

Batman chirps softly towards his son, hands slowly raising to pull off his mask, immediately releasing his sweet-spicy scent to the teen. "You don't need to apologize, pup, everyone gets scared."

The boy blinks the haze out of his eyes somewhat at the scent of the omega, a low rumble escaping him as he's suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of comfort, instinctively leaning in close to the man as his nose settles against the warm neck. Why does Batman look so familiar to him? Why, why-"Mother..." #56C whispers as it clicks in his brain who the man before him is, he remembers Lex showing him pictures of Bruce Wayne and telling him that the billionaire is his mom...though nothing else was said besides that, the bald alpha always just grumbled about how stupid Bruce is and how he most likely gets people to do his work for him.

Bruce chirps in response to the name, cuddling the boy close and gently massaging his nape to calm him down, ears twitching as he's called top level by his daughters. "We'll be right up!" He tilts his head up while shouting, holding tightly onto the boy as he helps him stand and grapples up the hole in the ceiling.

The boy tenses at seeing the three girls he fought earlier still in the building, stepping in front of his mom protectively as he growls warningly at them. "Why are you still here? Aren't you with Superman?" A gentle hand resting itself on #56C's shoulder causes his stance to relax slightly, Bruce's smooth voice purring reassuringly in his ear, "It's okay, pup, they know Superman but are with me. These are your new sisters–something we can talk about later–right now, I want to take ask you if there's a name I can call you?"

The teen lowers his defensive stance at the information, and the fact that the three girls all look at him warmly...why aren't they mad at him?

"No. I have no name."

Bruce frowns displeased at the fact Luthor didn't even name his kid, a thoughtful hum escaping him as he rests a hand on the boy's head. "How about...Conner? I think that name suits you, and there is always the choice for you to change it later if you don't like it."

#56C–Conner, shakes his head insistently, standing a little taller at finally receiving a proper title, "I want the name, mother. I–thanks."

The dark haired teen bristles at the giggles escaping his...sisters (he has to get used to saying that), the blonde one nodding softly with a smirk on her lips, her voice slurred slightly when speaking. "H–e's...cute. I think...I think h'll fit...in." Bruce frowns at the state the alpha is in and gently grabs her from Oracle, "We need to get you home. Oracle, did you-"

The woman nods her head, "Already called Leslie. She's on standby at the Cave." She doesn't bother mentioning that the rest of the family know that he's coming home with another kid. Bruce finds himself smiling proudly at all his kids before turning to look at Conner carefully, "Baby...would you come home with me? This place is no longer safe-" he doesn't think it ever was-"and I would like to check on everyone in a place I know won't be harmful."

Conner blinks in shock at the question...he didn't know mother wanted to take him with him...Lex never allowed trailing or following of any kind, just his obedience. 

The teen looks around the place he did grow up in thoughtfully, he has no feelings one way or another about it, it's more like a training ground than what he imagines a home (whatever that is) to be. Conner looks back at Bruce with a curious look in his eyes, "Okay. I want to know what home is supposed to be." The omega smiles happily at hearing the boy is willing to follow him, stamping down the fury towards Lex Luthor and the man's lack of proper child care, tugging his mask back on with one hand and adjusting his hold on Spoiler as he heads out the building, leaving Conner with his two sisters.

Black Bat nudges the boy with her elbow, keeping her posture loose and open despite the alpha tensing defensively at the playful gesture, a wide smile on her face and hands moving in a flurry as Conner gives her his attention. "Welcome to the family-" she opens her mouth to speak, her voice quiet with disuse-"B–roth...er." Conner suddenly feels shy at hearing the word come from his sister's mouth, nodding to the shorter while thinking that maybe his new home life won't be so bad, tilting his head curiously as the blonde sibling peeks over mother's shoulder with an impish smile to her lips. "Wait until you meet your new brothers. They're a blast."

Conner freezes at the thought of other boys sharing his mother's space, his brain only thinking of one way to respond to the older girl, "Brothers? No one said anything about brothers."

The protective tone must be obvious in his voice as the girls laugh at him, the boy not being able to focus on feeling offended by it as he's overtaken by a warm feeling at making his new family laugh.

(Notes from AO3—Some things I want to explain too right quick is, 1: Please excuse the crappy explanation as to where Conner was grown. 2: Please excuse the horribly written fight scenes 😭😭😭 and 3: Conner's experiment number is based off of the fact Krypton's sector number is 2813, while Krypto just is supposed to be referring to the fact/reminder Lex is dealing with a half-Kryptonian experiment; SP just means specimen and #56C is just the number of times Lex has tried his attempts at making a clone and C...I have nothing for that, I just thought it sounded nice 😂.

But we can say #56 is in section C of Lex's experiments, to which this Conner is the only working one.

Flimsy excuses I bet for my reasoning to everything, but please accept it (it's Christmas 😭😂). I truly hope the length of this chapter will satisfy all who have been waiting on me? You all's comments truly motivate me, and don't be afraid to tell me if you hate this chapter or it's length, I seriously won't be mad but I will appreciate all your comments 🙏🏼☺️.

Also, I hope you guys enjoyed the choice I made for the girls finding Conner? I thought about it and the thought actually wasn't forgotten so I went with it, especially as I thought it'd be nice for them to find him kind of as a little introductory to our beloved clone.

I really need to stop blabbing, but I hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter? Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛💛💛💛—End of notes from AO3.

Part 1: The Interview, Part 2: The Gala, Part 3: The Search.

[hippolotamus]

"How can you act like nothing happened?" + buddie if it inspires u <3333

Hi, April! Indeed it did inspire (just took a hot second to get all the details and i hope you like it) 💖🫶

What happens to them after? Buck had asked Dr. Salazar. They just go back to their same old lives? Go back to being the same old people? 

Some do.

When he was in her office, posing that question, he doesn’t even consciously know if he had Eddie’s experience in mind. Well, one of Eddie’s experiences. 

The soul shifting instance of Eddie falling in the middle of the street like a ragdoll. Not to mention the others. Eddie being buried alive under forty feet of earth. Eddie being trapped in a burning house, surrounded by fire on all sides. 

Buck’s had his fair share of near misses, they all have. So why does Eddie’s nonchalance bother him so much now? Is it because this time Buck actually died? For ‘three minutes and seventeen seconds’, Eddie corrected Chief Williams. He previously told Buck ‘you think you’re expendable, but you’re wrong’.

One time Buck asks what death was like for Eddie, and he answers as casually as if Buck asked about his day. 

Then I thought ‘this is it’. This is the last moment of my life. He shrugged. Then I woke up in the hospital.

Buck barges through the front door. No knocking, no checking if Eddie has company. He finds him folding towels at the dining room table, humming to himself. 

“Hey, Buck. Wasn’t expecting you… today.” Eddie trails off as he notices Buck’s demeanor.

“How can you act like nothing happened?” 

“Excuse me?” Eddie pinches his brows together in that way that Buck knows he’s flipping through a mental rolodex of recent memories. “Is this about the casserole last week? Because of the-”

“What? What about the- you know what? Nevermind, that’s not why I’m here.” Buck folds his arms across his chest, adding, “But we’ll come back to that.”

Eddie nods slowly, hand drifting to the laundry basket to pick up the next towel. “So, why are you here?”

“Because, Eddie. You told me I wasn’t expendable. You made me Christopher’s legal guardian if something happens to you.” He sniffs, angry that his emotions are choosing now to break loose, after weeks of feeling numb. “For Christ’s sake, you knew exactly how long I was dead.”

The assertion makes Eddie flinch, makes him stare a hole into the floor, astutely avoiding Buck’s gaze. 

“But you- you never wanna talk about it. Not when it comes to you.”

“Maybe,” Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, he cocks his head in annoyance, and Buck knows he’s onto something. He’s struck a nerve. “Maybe, because there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh no? Y- you get shot down in Afghanistan, buried alive, shot again in LA, have a fucking breakdown and there’s nothing to talk about?” Buck steps forward, standing directly in front of his best friend, forcing him to look up. “Okay, well what about Chris needing therapy after the tsunami? Huh? What about going to dispatch because – you thought – Chris didn’t want you to be a firefighter anymore? Hell, that eventually got you to patch things up with your old man. But all those other things? Just another day in the life of Eddie Diaz. No need to stick around, folks, nothing happening here.” 

“Christopher is different, Buck. He’s my son.”

“And you’re my best friend. My partner.” My person, he doesn’t say, wiping away the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Doesn’t that mean anything? We’re all just supposed to deal with it if it’s you, and pretend to live our same old lives?”

Eddie purses his lips, backs away. He doesn’t even look in Buck’s direction when he says, “Please leave.”

Buck freezes. “What?”

“Get out, Buck. Before I do say something and we both regret it.”

He could fight back, keep prodding at the singular bruise spread across both of them. He wants to, wants Eddie to yell and scream. Something. Anything. In the end Buck isn’t sure why he doesn’t. All he knows is that in the space of a breath all the fight leaves him. All the fire and outrage deflates, making him feel emptier than before. 

When he reaches the front door, Eddie still won’t look at him. So he listens and turns the handle, walks over the threshold. He keeps going until he reaches the jeep, until he’s sitting in the driver’s seat, until he’s several streets away and sure no one will see him. Then he crumbles. He falls apart, wracked with sobs he knows will leave his body hollow and aching later. 

And he wonders- should he have kept pretending, too?

send an angsty prompt

[vampirejohn]

And if I want snippets from all 3 WIPs?????

spike ily quite literally anything for you

and i still call home is the big bang sized preseries deanjohn fic nobody asked for. dean gets john to let him and sam stay in town while sam finishes school (and dean gets to play housewife!!). he doesn't exactly mention it's so sam can go to college, which ofc ends well (i'm lying 😈)

He rolled on his side and spread a nervous hand over John’s waist, and then moved down to feel the hard, thick length of him through his jeans. He had to bite back a groan, his own cock twitching valiantly at the thought of getting to see it, really see it, not just in casual passing the way you did when you lived with someone your whole life. But then John took his wrist, pushed him off. “It’s okay,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m good like this.” “But—” Bemused, Dean shifted sort of awkwardly. “It just… doesn’t seem all that fair to you.” John’s eyes narrowed, the line of his mouth going flat and mean. “Why don’t you let me worry about what’s fair to me?” Dean rolled onto his back again so he didn’t have to look at him, hot behind his ears. Maybe this was new for John—and that was admirable, really—but Dean didn’t remember a time when it wasn’t like this for him. The wanting was born somewhere between tucking him in and holding his hands steady around pistols and pool cues and watch out for Sammy, between dental floss stitches in motel bathrooms and it was never supposed to be like this and it’s okay, Dad and you really want to talk about Sam right now? Dean had been capable of this during all of it.

deanjohn dv screening ✨

“You know we’ve been here a couple of hours already, right? Costs an arm and a leg to park here, too.” “There’s a bit of a wait for the X-ray machine, unfortunately. We’re a smaller hospital.” The nurse was still pulling and turning Dean’s wrist, like there was some threshold of pain she had to put him in before she was allowed to give him some goddamned painkillers. “I promise we’ll get him in as soon as we can.” She raised her eyes to Dean’s for a moment, and he took the opportunity to give her an apologetic smile, the one reserved for civilians caught up in John’s wrath. She didn’t return it, mouth turning down into a frown for just a split second. Finally, she let Dean go, turning her attention on John. “Sir, would you mind stepping out for just one second? There’s a few more diagnostics we’d like to run on Dean.” John’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally, only noticeable if you knew to look for it. “I’m good here,” he said, planting his feet more firmly. Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. Do whatever you have to do.” She studied Dean for a moment, and then nodded decisively. “Alright. Give me a few moments.” She wasn’t out of the room two seconds before John said, “The hell was that about?” Dean was busy trying to find a comfortable position to lay his wrist in his lap. “They think you’re beating me,” he snapped. He watched John’s face turn to stone. “And why the hell would they think that?” “Because you’re being an asshole.” Dean stopped to hiss as a twinge of shocky pain shot up his arm. “Look. If they try to get me alone again, just play along, alright? So we can get off their radar.”

deanjohn abo au is my s1 au deanjohn/samdean double feature, where sam figures out that dean let john claim him and goes absolutely bonkers over it

“You’re fucking deranged. You think you're defending my honor or something? Because I got news for you—ever since you found out, you’ve been stomping around, whining like a jealous bitch. Spineless too, like pretending this is about Dad makes it okay. There something you want from me, Sam? Speak up.” Sam didn’t, only pressed his arm harder across Dean’s throat when he tried to move again. Dean’s mouth curled into a nasty grin. “It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it? Thinking about him on top of me. His knot inside me. D’you think about me begging for it? ‘Cause I do, Sammy, I beg him to shove it so deep I can’t fucking breathe, to put me on my knees and fucking knock me up. Just curious—would you prefer a little brother or a sister?” “You don’t have to convince me you’re a fucking whore, Dean.” The last thing Dean remembered before the world tilted and went black was rearing back and spitting in Sam’s face.

[biteofcherry]

Happy Wetnessday 💦

I hope you're doing well.

This Wetnessday you're a professor in professor Rogers universe. Since he is already taken (sorry) you fall into a romance with another professor.

Who is he? What does he teach? How did you meet? How is your dynamic? Does he make you forget about Professor Rogers?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Hi Wetnessday Anon! 🩷

Now that was cruel. Not because you took away Steve, I would be only pouty about that. But you said I'm in professor Rogers' universe AND THEN took him away! That's like hanging a delicious, stuffed chocolate bar in front of me and then taking it away 😤

But fiiine, fiiiine, I will find myself another hot professor to erase the pout from my face.

I could go for the welcoming, flirty and approachable professor Ari. He's so hot and such a sunshine, it's so easy to be around him and with him 🥹🫠 I really should go for him.

But there's something wrong with me today, because I crave mean professor Andy 😳🫣 I blame it on all the evil pixies drowning me in awful Andy content last year. Professor Andy isn't a crazy psycho, but he is very mean and degrading in the hottest way.

He is admired and described as a hardass, but a fair one. He can be a bit moody, but students forgive him the more demanding lectures, because he also carries passionate and fun ones.

Andy is a law professor and as such you shouldn't have a lot of common with him when you start working at the university, since you teach a different faculty. You'd probably only meet in passing and spend some time at the official parties.

However, he's the one the dean introduces you to first, simply because you bumped into him on your tour after signing the contract.

Andy wasn't in a welcoming mood at all, but he still offered a smile and a warm if short greeting. Though his face shifted into cloudy annoyance when the dean got a phone call and without previous agreement he sort of dumped you onto Andy to show you around.

And he's not happy about it.

No, he's not in rush, but he's not much interested in playing a babysitter for the Ice Queen. And he says as much, readjusting his cufflinks.

Your spine hardens into steel at the mention of the nickname you've been given by colleagues in the past.

Because you don't enjoy getting wasted after the conferences, because you refused quite a few flings, because you focus on keeping to yourself and allegedly reported a romance at your past job (you didn't, but that fucker Ransom still thinks it's because of you that he had to break it off with the student; he's the one who gave you the nickname and a snide remark that you were jealous of him not wanting to touch your frigid ass).

"I may be the Ice Queen, but you're an asshole." You tilt your chin and give him a freezing look.

"Someone should play with your asshole to loosen you up."

There should be retort at the tip of your tongue. You're already forming it. But for a second your brain stumbles in attaching the right wires into right spots, instead igniting with the image of Andy's velvety voice cooing at you as his fingers scissor that tight hole.

"Ah!" A dark spark ignites in his blue eyes at your pause.

"Is that it, Ice Queen?" He takes a step into your personal space and you make the mistake of taking a step back. Which he follows, backing you against the wall as he taunts:

"Do you need to be used thoroughly like a needy slut, so that your brilliant, calculating brain switches off and you melt into a puddle?"

"Stop it." You huff, trying to glare at him. But you can't hide the shortening of your breath as Andy presses even closer.

"No, I don't think I will." He chuckles and it's a scarily seductive sound that heats your blood. "And I think you will love it when I keep pushing... and ruining... and filling your holes."

[kerra-and-company]

🖊 for Nisha, 🖊 For Aysel and 🖊 for a beeb of choice >:3c

>:3c (tyty!!)

🖊 - Nisha has the same relationship with anger that xe has historically had with the rest of xyr emotions--not showing it is kind of xyr default, and to be fair, xe also doesn't tend toward anger all that much. There are a couple notable exceptions, though. HoT was an incredibly tense time (for numerous reasons), and Nisha progressively lost more and more patience with people mistrusting sylvari. There was one particular Pact member at base camp who just would. not. stop. talking. about it, and that marks the one and only time Nisha has ever physically punched someone. (Hurt xyr fingers doing it, too.) The second exception to this was when Nisha, Canach, Kas, and Rytlock got to the top of the spire in PoF to find Kerra dead and Balthazar leaving with Aurene. Xe fully tried to take off after the rogue god solo and would have done so if Canach hadn't both physically held xem back and talked xem out of doing something that would definitely have ended badly.

🖊 - Aysel doesn't really use a last name, in the typical norn style or in any other style. There's certainly names that people have assigned to her (like along the lines of Braham being called "Vowbreaker" in Icebrood by Jhavi, though Aysel's are--generally--positive), but the only one she occasionally recognizes is people calling her Slayer. Aside from that, she honestly feels like her first name is enough evidence, to her personally, of her own legend at this point. She might choose to make a last name for herself someday, though.

And you get a GW1 character for the last one, because I talked about my main three in a different ask and left her out (terrible of me), so I'm putting her here:

🖊 - Enna is the last to join the "main squad" of my GW1 folks, and she's also a lot more grounded than the rest of them. She's generally not one to mess around with magitech, or experiment with both death and life magic, or reach out into the Mists in new ways (which is Cal, Daisy, and Nabi in that order). She grew up with fairly rigid structure in Kourna and ended up joining the Sunspears; she didn't really expect to be thrown into world-altering events with a bunch of adventurers from around the world. This results in her being a bit awkward and thrown off by them early on, but she does become good friends with them eventually. (She also bonds with Iseul the most at the beginning. He's from Kaineng and had maybe the most "normal" life experience of the others besides Enna before the Afflicted started to be a problem. He had a very chaotic childhood, though, so he's always been very "this might as well happen".)

[ihamtmus]

.

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

Johnny: wow kerry thought he was living in my shadow? shit. I had no idea. wow. this is news to me.

Also Johnny:

[baejax-the-great]

Hello. How would you categorize Achilles/Patroclus' faces? (Traditionally speaking)Masculine/Feminine/Androgynous? Beautiful/Pretty/Handsome? Any more hcs on how do you picture their looks? Or does it differ among AUs?

Thank you, and have a nice weekend!

I don't know that I usually classify faces this way. I also have enjoyed a lot of different versions of Achilles and Pat and don't think any are particularly "wrong" or anything.

My first introduction into a visual representation of Patroclus was through Hades game, and I am partial to his design there. I also truly love @lady-forest's drawing of Pat here which is close to the Hades design, but a little different. Variations on Hades!Patroclus will always have me all heart-eyes.

A lot of how I envision their faces will depend on their age. Faces change a lot between the ages of 15 and 25. I had a silly post a while back about different artists' representations of Achilles as a girl in Skyros and how they had to choose to make him a hot girl or an ugly girl. Personally I enjoy the hot girl interpretations better.

This one, where he's serving, is a personal fave. But passing for a girl at 15 is a lot easier than passing at 25. And I've known a few very pretty boys who grew into "masculine" looking men, so I don't know that you can really predict.

I've debated what Homer would mean while calling Achilles' the hottest dude in the army. Does he mean the masculine ideal? Is Achilles sort of a perfect average of all idealized traits? Or is he pretty in the way Helen is pretty? The latter seems less likely given the misogyny of the culture as well as Ajax being called the second hottest Achaean in the Odyssey, and at like seven feet tall and built like a tank, I don't know that anyone is depicting him as having feminine features. Another example I think of is Heracles. Based on the sheer number of lovers Heracles had, he was also considered hot as shit by both men and women, and again he's not ever depicted as particularly feminine.

Achilles is a bit different because he represents "youth" in the epic cycle. It's the reason he's rarely depicted with a beard even when he's an adult in a culture that values beards a lot. In that spirit, I tend to try to blend the "masculine" and "feminine" in my mind, a boy whose features could have been girlish who grows up into a beautiful man. So much of what we consider "feminine" in a man is more about styling/affect/the way he moves and carries himself than actual bare bones facial structure, anyway.

As for what I personally envision while writing, it does change depending on AU to an extent, but there are a few constants. Patroclus can and will grow a beard (depending on his age). Achilles cannot and won't. Patroclus has big, brown cow-eyes (in the Homeric sense). I liked Miller giving Achilles green eyes, so I stick with that. I like Pat having a bump in his nose. I give them both long hair, though Pat's is more subject to change. Pat has darker skin than Achilles.

[kingcygnus]

roharp is really just eternal longing, cursed to never be together, always separated by fate's works

[cherrymoonvol6]

.

[itsdappleagain]

a tale as old as time: a neurodivergent suicidal artist bro and the centuries old greek goddess who comes down to earth to inspire him. they might kiss. if they do that the muse might get executed by her own father. and the artist might as a result kill himself. but they might kiss

[tonycries]

CHERRY-POP!

Synopsis. He’s losing more than his v!rginíty - he’s losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, vírgínity loss (JJK men), PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, first times, p talking, proposals, cervíx kíssing, matíng presses, GOJO’S POWERS, manhandIing (Nanami), overstím, rough, true form Sukuna, dp, making them whímper, spítting, chokíng, p sIapping, mentions of heirs, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Y’all asked and aIpha provided hehehe, also Ino girlies y’all are FED today <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Was a 10/10

“I-I’m really…damn. Damn.” Just about all that he can gasp. Toji’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs at the sheer tremors lacing his baritone voice, on the edge of shattering into a million pieces. He’s dragging a fat thumb where your teary slit was bulging. In awe. “Damn.”

And your honeyed giggles are enough to make him buck his rummaging length with a shuddering groan. Pumping you full of more solid, mindless inches. “S’that all you can hah- say, Toji?” 

Hell, if Toji Fushiguro could coherently speak - if he could even think - then he’d already be waxing poetic about how your that sweltering hot heaven between your legs was driving him mad. Was having his life flashing before his very eyes-

How had he lived for so long without this?

You’re letting out a tiny gasp - only too-late does Toji’s melty mind realize that he’d pathetically babbled all that out loud. 

Taking the lewd opportunity to punish your parted lips with a slow wad of his syrupy saliva, “D-doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two…”

God, if Toji hadn’t confessed to you just prior that he was a raging virgin then you would have laughed in his face right this very second. 

Because he was acting like anything but.

His rock-hard cock was vicious, bullying right between your pretty pursed folds with inch after throbbing inch that scratches your sweet spots just right. Fuck- he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight. Slamming a hand down onto the rickety headboard to stop from jackhammering his fat cock over and over into you already.

“Y-you’re seriously…” he’s letting his voice peter out. Toji’s curling a few thick fingers around his hefty hilt, feeding your drooling hole more. More. “-seriously sucking th-the life outta me.”

He’s moving at such a sleazy pace, tracing one calloused thumb down your driveling lips, all soaked and sopping with your saturated juices. “Heh, not bad for a f-fucking virgin, huh?” Before popping it into your mouth for you to suck on like your favorite lolly. “C’mon- say somethin’, ma.”

“S-so slow, Toji-” you’re huffing and puffing in a way that makes him grunt, trembly legs falling further and further open by the second at the stretch. The way his large, bulbous tip was brushing against your very inner walls had you dizzy. “-give me more.”

“Wh-when I told ya to talk it wasn’t to talk with your hah- damn pussy, woman.”

And fuck.

Fuuuuck- Toji was more affected than he would like to admit. 

Much, much more. 

Because just the incoherent mess of jumbles falling from those pretty lips of yours had him throwing his head back with a moan. Big, beefy biceps flexing when he’s battering his rock-hard tip into your gooey depths. And shit-

He didn’t read about this online. 

Never ever thought that the Toji Fushiguro would find his mean scar dropping with his jaw in raw, carnal shock when your pussy lips dribble a generous load of his own cum. Eyes veering to the very back of his head with he just barely manages to disguise as a regular one of his eyerolls. 

Fuck- fuck did he cum already?

“D-did you-”

“Shut up. Holy shit-” A set of rugged fingers clasp bruisingly around your waist, another skating about midway up your tummy and pressing. Down hard. Now until your slobbering cunt was painting numerous creamy rings upon rings around Toji’s hefty hilt. “Damn, what a pussy you got on ya. Is yer cunt jus’ extra filthy, ma?”

You’re smacking his cushiony pecs at his words, whining, “Y-you’re so nasty–”

“Me?” His greedy green eyes widen, “Callin’ me nasty w-when your pussy is the one spillin’ all over me? Hngh- jus’ look at her, doll.”

There’s nothing else that you could look at - because Toji’s flexing arms were caging you into your cozy little cove. Dark brows marrying together in pure bliss when he’s dragging his cock out of your slippery cunt with a wet plop! Letting your puckered hole slide a drizzling coating of cum. 

And then plugging you back in - and then again. In and out. In and out in and-

“And whose f-fault is that?”

“Hers.”

Even through your stupidly fucked mind you could catch the way that Toji’s voice was dipped in pure loving. A hypnotized grin leering all over his face - you could ask him to bring you the moon right now and he would.

Hunching his entire heaving body over to move back inside your snug walls mercilessly, he nips down your tender earlobe. Grunting, “Heh, I read ya nasty pussy would ngh- like this.”

And he’s seeping in a few fingers to swirl around the ounces of white that stained your bulging cunt, around and around until it was thoroughly coating his dripping wet fingers. Tracing just enough over your pulsing clit. And you thought he would bring it up for you to suck - you thought. 

Before he’s placing them swiftly into his mouth and whining - yes, whining. The clingy grip of your softened walls had him so gone. 

“P-pretend ya never fuckin’ heard that-” Toji’s snapping right before you can open your teasing mouth, and his high cheekbones color in the most innocent shade of rosy pink. Snarling, “-s’not m-my fault- it’s hers.”

Yeah, because your dripping cunt was way too much for a virgin to handle - it had him going mad. 

It had him rummaging even deeper into your pliant cunt, tenderizing your poor g-spots into the perfect bullseyes that he just couldn’t miss. All the way to the base. Toji’s making the bed creak with each one of his ruts, sweat slicking down the middle of his curved spine at his staggering pace. 

And he wasn’t even tired - not a single ounce. You think he’d be tired while buried in a blissful cunt like this?

Monstrous stamina pushing and pushing his weepy tip down in streaming slides across your sweet spots. Without a singular warning, his mountainous palms snatch your trembly legs up to throw them over his broad shoulders. 

“Sh-shit, the stretch–” you’re mewling when he’s easily folding you in half like a lawnchair. Merciless. Snickering.

Absolutely no shred of regret or apology when he grins, “Y’know…I also read online about th-this thing called a…mating press.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - SWEETENER!

“Like this?”

And you’ve never heard your stoic boyfriend ever sound like this before - with his chest heaving in gasps, gluttonous eyes locked down on your arched back, lips wobbling like the very fate of the world depended entirely on the next few words to fall from your cockdrunken mouth. 

Fuck- Nanami was so staggeringly massive that you couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even jolt back to your senses until he’s peppering a drool-worthy trail of kisses down your spine. Echoing, strained. “Never done this before- I-is this okay, my love?”

“Yes! Hngh-” you’re managing to blink back the pearly tears welling up in your eyes. “Y-you can start to move, Kento.”

He’s placing a few more innocent pecks by the corner of your mouth before doing so, and just one singular movement - a singular inch inside your pretty cunt - had Nanami Kento hypnotized.

Breath hitching. 

You’re almost concerned when the first smooching thrust right into your awaiting g-spot had his muscled thighs shivering. Honeypool eyes wide, cheeks flushed, ruined. Frantically scrambling to clasp his thick fingers around your tender throat, Nanami heaves out a groan and pulls.

Feeding you the uncharacteristically ruthless inches of his furious cock, you’re being hauled about halfway down the velvety bed as if you’re some kind of doll. Pumped stupidly full of his fat girth, you’re not sure if that thunderous throb! throb! throb! was from his angry cock or from you. 

Head so light, “Ken–”

“Wh-what- oh…” Immediately, Nanami’s letting his hand drop from your neck as if it burned, sorrowfully kissing near those faint bruises. “I’m so sorry, my love- I didn’t realize. I won’t-”

“No no, baby–” Craning your head around to stop his stern mouth from ranting any further, you give him a smug smirk that you can feel the effects of. Feeling his sopping wet twitch into your bruised spots in a gloopy wave of scorching precum. “-I like it.”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

You shouldn’t have said that - fuck, you shouldn’t have said a word. Because that’s all it takes for Nanami to smack his sharp hip bones into you like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. 

And if the first tentative thrust into your cunt was magic - then this. Fuck, this was a miracle in real life. 

Your cunt is so talkative with him - slurring out a few saturated sploshes every time he’s pumping your gummy depths full of himself. 

Pummelling with very pound, and if you didn’t know any better then you would have thought that Nanami was fucking you like he hated you. Sloppy. Addicted. You’re feeling the slosh of his sticky pre inside you with every shuddering rut.

Languidly licking up the overwhelmed tears in your eyes, “M-m’sorry, darling I…” Interrupted by a syrupy hug of your walls like clingfilm, he was spearing open your insides so good. Molding himself into every nook and cranny inside you. Virginity be damned, he was having his fill for years. “-I can’t seem to stop. I-I just need-”

Words couldn’t even explain the sheer fucking heaven that Nanami was in right now. This was what you felt like? This? 

And you’re not even sure if he’s in control when he’s pushing down on your shaky body with one of his thick palms, right until you’re splayed out like some slut on the king-sized mattress. Hiking up one thick thigh to pressurize his thwacking pushes even harder, and the other to press down on your head with his foot. 

“Sh-shit you’re so deep, Ken–” your fingers thrash against the silken sheets at the even meaner angle. “I can feel you all the way-”

Right before you can finish your drawling sentence - almost as if Nanami didn’t want you to, couldn’t even handle the thought - his massive palm rummages from down under to glide down the thickened inflation where he was ruining you. Where he would feel the wet swipes of steaming hot precum being poured right into your womb. Where he could feel himself. 

And he’s trying to reign back some control - to remember all the tips that he’d read in those books. But god was it difficult when Nanami’s rubbing his fat thumb against your clit and making you whine. 

Over and over and-

“D-don’t run away–” Nanami’s voice cracks towards the very end - snapping you out of your lustful haze to realize that oh shit, you had been inching away. The stimulation so much. “M’yours- m’all yours. And I need you, my love, I need more-”

And right before you can correct your posture, knocking your  hips in sodden glides down his swollen length; Nanami’s snatching his speckled yellow tie right off somewhere across the bed and wringing it around your wrists tightly. Pinning them together over your back before leveraging it with one curl of his fingers to drag you back into his erection.

Nanami’s breath hitches, head finding itself thrown backwards in an instant. He’s leaning further backwards to drink in the heavenly sight of your ass quavering against his hips, of the way his skin was reddening now. 

“Th-theree we go, y-yer gonna take my fuckin’ cock. Aren’t you, my wife?”

You’re not sure what you’re gasping more at - the roughened lack of sanity in his words, or at the way he was calling you his wife. Again and again like a little mantra into the crook of your neck - all that he could say right now. 

“Such a p-pretty cunt- n’ a pretty wife…” Hushed out beside your ears at a feverish pace. “Y-you have me addicted so, soo…” Addicted enough to not be able to finish his sentence.  Nanami leaves a wet peck at your lips, and an even wetter smack! on your clit. 

And when you cum, you’re seeing white. 

Unsure of what’s even happening before Nanami’s fucking you through each peaking wave of your high, edging it deeper and deeper. You’re gasping at the feeling of his cock twitching vigorously inside. Harshly. Dangerously. 

“K-keep those legs open, darling.” He’s crushing you to his brawny body so tight. “M’gonna haaah- make this sweet cunt overspill.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Good girl never cry.

Geto Suguru never saw himself like this - feeling so blissfully good. 

He never saw himself with fucking tears beading at the very corners of his glassy eyes, his maw sagging animalistically open when his prespiration-slicked body glissades against yours. Yours. Shit- all he could think about was that clingy pussy of yours and you, you, you-

“Oh, what’s this?” Rumbling voice smooth against your ear, but all you can manage out is a pathetic few hahs! when Geto’s body never stops. His grueling hips don’t even slow down to let you catch your breath. “Heh, am I th-the one losing my virginity or are ngh- you, gorgeous?”

You’re huffing and puffing in a way that he can’t help but find so cute, feeling his lips curl up into a heady smile. “N-no need to be so mean, Sugu–”

“Tch.”

Without a split-second of hesitation - or so much as even a warning - he’s wrangling your legs over two broad shoulders. Biceps flexing when looping your two ankles around his flushed neck, pinning them together with a gruff, “Lock them.”

And it’s all you can manage to do when he’s folding down, down, down in half. Making your calves burn with sheer fatigue, your sloppy entrance stretches around the curve of Geto’s swollen cock. It was such a sight to behold - your succulent pussy lips drooling all down to his too-tight balls, talking back to him in the most slurping squelches with every jittery ram. 

Geto can feel himself trailing a translucent line of drool already - embarrassing. 

“Mhm—” Your entire body vibrates with his severe groans, nodding along with his sleazy eyes pointed downwards. And the angle helps him spit out in your slack mouth, snickering. “Th-think I like her better.”  

Your jaw drops - and he’s taking this perfect chance to smush your mouth into an embarrassing pout with two fingers squishing your cheeks together. Lolling his head downwards to pry open your mouth and suck on your tongue. 

“Hmpf! Then you can ngh- kiss ‘her’ instead-” Slow. Drooling. Such a filthy French kiss that Geto breaks with a wet smooch!

Pecking up your stubborn tears. How cute.

“Oh, I will…” Comes his answer, along with a few more thunking collisions into your rawly bruised g-spot as if he was reminding you just who you were dealing with - virgin or not. “You think j-jus’ because m’a hah- virgin, I don’t know how to handle such a s-sweet pussy?”

Maybe you nod, maybe you shake your head - you’re not even sure before Geto’s spitting out a wet wad of saliva that hits his ready digits with a wet thwack! Smearing right along your overly stuffed pussy, where he was funneling you so full of him. 

Gruffing out, “First m’gonna f-fuck her until she’s ngh- overspilling. Gonna ruin her for a-anyone else-” Twirling his rude thumb in a wet grind on the hood of your plump kiss, he’s leaving a few wet swats. “Then m’gonna taste her- treat her a lil’ while she’s already ah dripping with me. And then…” Breath hitching while he’s crashing a kiss into you once more. “-m’gonna do it all over again.”

“How do you even-”

He’s babbling nonsense now - or maybe truths. “Y’have no idea how much I’ve ah- imagined this, gorgeous– kept thinkin’ of it every night.” 

“R-really?” you gasp.

“Mhm– s-since the day I met ya. I’d imagine doin’ a little bit of hah-” Giving your mouth an innocent peck, “-this. Then some of-” Then a bite. “This.” And then the most slow drag of his hips down your walls, “And mostly this.”

God, he had half the mind to know that maybe you shouldn’t be hearing these. But Geto didn’t care. He couldn’t. Not when every drilling pound had him giddy, “Always wan’ed you to be all mine y’know- my lil’ cum dump, aren’t ya?”

You’re somehow muffling out - seeping through each labored breath. “Yes- yes yes yes- fuck- m’so close, Sugu- M’gonna-”

“Of course ya are.” He’s rolling his eyes, acting for all the world like his painfully swollen balls weren’t just aching to cum already. Hips getting sloppier and sloppier, as do his words. “She told me- h-hurry up already. Cum on my fuckin’ cock.”

And Geto thinks he tried to hold back how pathetically pussydrunken he was on your gorgeous cunt, he thinks he tried to do a good job of it. 

Tried.

But as soon as your orgasm hits you at full force - oh, that’s when he’s allowing his eyes to mask over with a bleary veil of tears. Drip, drip, dripping down in hot splatters onto your skin- it feels so good.

And Geto bites down hard into the crook of your neck, muffling those rasping whimpers curdling at the back of his throat when he cums. When he feels his ears pop! lids flashing his vision with pure white. 

“S-so much–” you’re mewling when he’s dumping out such voluminous ropes of seed. Thick, sticky, sloshing down in neverending rivulets. He’s fucking you through each and every one, mashing into your very g-spot- “There’s ah! S’overspilling, Suguru-”

Overspilling.

Oh, Geto would never admit it but he couldn’t even bear to turn his head downwards at the exact sight that you were talking about. No. 

It was already embarrassing enough to tumble into his second orgasm just from your sentence. Pearly white canines digging into the mound of your flesh so hard that you think he might just draw blood. The muscles in Geto’s jaw ticks when his bawling divot pushes out another few sputtering smacks! of cum against your sweetest spots. 

“Y-you…” he’s gasping out, barely even audible. And as soon as Geto’s raising his dampened face from the haven at your neck, you’re practically gasping at the fucked-out expression on his face. Eyes unfocused, skin a blotchy red, hair curtaining his face and making it almost impossible to tell where he was looking. “I really came…inside- hah- inside your pretty pussy.”

In awe.

Geto’s moving lazily - like he’s in a pool of molasses - when he dances a hand down to your beading cunt. Probing a few fingers back in to feed your parched pussy the remnants of excess cum. “C-can I- can I do it again?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-is this heaven?”

Choso didn’t mean to say that out loud - in fact, he’d probably rather die than actually babble it out to you. 

But how could he not when you were smearing your syrupy sweet folds all open for him that way? Two of your fingers sliding between your legs with a purring, “Why dontcha find out, Cho–?”

It should’ve been embarrassing the way he’s tripping and stumbling over the expanse of the plush king-sized bed to loom dangerously closer to you. To softly guide your hand away with a nudge of his reddened, aching cock. Choso’s practically begging on his own two knees when he gasps- heaves, “I-I can put it inside?” Still in wonderment. He must be dreaming. Slurring up a sopping wet drag of his fat, ruby tip just to confirm. “C-can I really?”

“Mhm–” you’re nodding. “Careful not to hurt your-”

But you’re not given the privilege to finish your sentence. Hell, you’re not given the privilege to even finish taking in a deep inhale before all of it comes rushing back out in the most feverish gasp.

Hurtling out of your suddenly bowing body when you’re suddenly being so split-apart. Choso’s ambushing tip bullying your pussy lips wide agape, he’s fucking you so full with just the tiniest, mindless little gyrations of his flexible hips just to fit inside. 

Because Choso might be a virgin - but with his staggering size, he didn’t even have to try to hit your earliest sweet spots. 

“Move your hand, baby, I-I…”

That’s when you’re glimpsing at your poor boyfriend, who’s already so utterly wrecked. The very moment he’s slid into your snug cunt, it had him seeing stars. Bursts of pleasure exploding at his sensitive cock, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso’s grasping a hand around a few of his sweat-dampened locks and pulling to jolt himself back to reality.

When he blinks his teary eyes back open, you swear his pupils had turned into hearts. Whispering, “M’in love with you oh-”

Both of you are snapping downwards your heads in unison when something swelteringly hot floods your insides. Creamy and sloshing like treacle down your walls - all it took was once look up at Choso’s prettily burning blush to realize that he’d cum as soon as he put it in. 

“Ch-Choso-”

“Shit- shit- m’sorry, baby–” he’s grunting out, hips moving by themselves in filthy little collisions that jerk you on the bed. He’s so surprisingly hands-on, fingers gliding up and down your arched back to massage all your tender spots. “I didn’t mean to c-cum so early- shit- m’sorry–”

It’s barely even possible to form a coherent though with the way he was fucking into you so sloppily. He can’t stop. He won’t. No rhythm or reason - just pure, primal need dripping from every plummet of his thickened cock into your gooey depths. 

You’re prattling out softly, “It’s okay, baby.” Running your hands through the wet strands of his bangs sticking to his prespired forehead, Choso’s face lights up into an intoxicated smile at your candied cooing. “K-keep going-”

As if to illustrate your point, you’re bucking your hips off the bed to meet his - to strike your abdomen down in a stinging slam! The sticky smack of skin-on-skin makes you both hiss, and Choso’s bludgeoning tip drives even deeper in a bashful kiss against your velvety cervix. 

“O-oh…” His jaw drops slack, a slight trickle of drool running its way down at this point. Without another words, two strong arms wrap themselves around your body, and he’s angling his hips urgently - desperately - to replicate that gummy recoil. Again. And again. And again and again. “H-how can it feel so hngh- good? How- why, baby?”

Shit, Choso’s babbling nonsense and he knows he’s babbling nonsense.

Which is why once you’re pressing gentle pecks all over his face - from his forehead, to his blushing cheekbones, all down to his wobbly lips - he’s now sure he’s in heaven. And you’re his own personal angel. 

Panting out hot puffs against your mouth, you could savor his sugary sweet taste already. “Th-think m’gonna cum again, baby- oh, I- can I cum inside? Please? Please, baby?”

“I-inside, please-” Your words tremble out in nothing but mere mewls, curling one of your arms around his neck to haul your dear boyfriend over even closer. He lets you - lets himself be so used. “-d-don’t miss, okay?”

How could he ever when you’re asking him so sweetly like this?

Making him wrack out a heavy shudder all the way from his dizzy head to his twitchy tip, spurting out a few buttery dredges of pre. So close. Choso slips and slides his palms down onto your thighs to spread them wide open for him. Murmuring out a throaty, “Won’t miss- won’t miss. D-don’t you worry, baby, m’not gonna miss.” like a mantra. Hypnotized.

Splattering out thick helpings of cum that flood your gaping entrance, you can feel your snug walls inflating with each ram of his cock. Swirling down, down, down to knock at your womb- Choso is so messy.

Supposedly helping clean you up by dragging a hand to your tummy, bearing down hard right on top of the very spot he knew would make you spill out a syrupy puddle of his seed. Painting a creamy white ring all over his twitching base. 

“L-look, baby- I didn’t miss.” He chuckles - chuckles. So in bliss that he doesn’t even realize the way his entire body was shivering with the convulsions still. “Ah, y-you took my virginity and I didn’t even hngh- miss.”

Barely even lucid when he uses that superhuman strength of his to flip the two of you over, lounging on his back against the now-damp sheets. But Choso doesn’t feel disgusted - not even close - he’s staring up at you through heavy, droopy eyes. Pussydrunk. 

And he can only manage out two words. 

“Ride me?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - S-s-stutter?!

“Tch, don’t think this is going to get the hah- king to bow down to ya, lil’ human.” Sukuna seethes at the sight of you on all slutty fours - and it would be a whole lot more threatening had it not been for the way his graveling voice cracks. The way all he can let out is a string of slurring swears when your preslicked pussy lips glide across his angrily hard cocks. 

“Mhm– whatever you say, Kuna-” your voice was sweetly agitating him, making his flushed heads perk up in feral little jolts. Desperate to bully himself inside your sopping entrance. “Just give me- both-”

With a sudden clasp of his vice-like fingers around your waist, you’re being shoved against the plush mattress of the royal bed. Bouncing up softly against those marshmallowy pillows and caged against Sukuna’s hulking body.

You’re breathing out a little, “It would be easier for you if-”

“I know.” He’s cutting you off, devilishly red eyes straying off into the distance and away from anywhere near your gaze. Regal cheekbones a beet red when he’s finally looking at you,  “This-” One of his clawed palms cup your face, “-this is better.”

And of course the king of curses isn’t going to fucking admit it when he wants to see every one of your fucked-out expressions. 

Of course he’s not going to let you ponder on his uncharacteristic actions for too long before swiping a wet skim down your slit. Pooling up your slick juices down his pulsing cocks, one of his massive palms jostle and smear that translucent gloss down his lengths. The other prodding at your winking entrance - “Heh, take a deep breath- doesn’t matter that m’a fucking virgin, you’re the one that needs ta brace yerself, brat.”

Fuck- it doesn’t matter how much you might’ve readied yourself because Sukuna’s matchingly thick lengths we always going to split you apart until you felt like you should sob.

It was such a delicious stretch - probing at every one of your sugary spots, his intrusion was working your tight channel open in a way you’d never even thought possible before. Spreading your tight rim of muscle gapingly open as you milk every copious inch of his double shafts. 

“Would ya look at that–” Sukuna’s drawling out, and his eyes widen with a tinge of genuine surprise. Long tongue darting outwards to lick up that embarrassing slick of dribble escaping his awe-struck lips. “Sucking me up so well ahhh- s’like your cute pussy’s made f’me. Aren’t ya?”

It’s maddening.

It’s filthy the way that Sukuna’s leaning his sleazy head even closer to drink up every sodden noise that emanates from your cunt when he’s filling himself inside your cunt deeper. And deeper. Like his length was never-ending. 

Every squelch, every slurp that makes him chuckle. Wafting one of his dark, overgrown nails across the bumpy outline of his drilling tips on your tummy. “Oh, damn t-talkative, too-”

Your veins thunder rapidly with the sheer lewd embarrassment of having Sukuna listening and conversing with your sloppy cunt. And the feeling makes you let out a whiny huff and clench-

Oh. 

He’d never felt like this. 

“Sh-shit- marry me.”

Someone’s gasping - and it takes you only a few lazy seconds after Sukuna’s bludgeoning the entirety of his two dicks into your cunt to realize that it wasn’t you. Blinking back your already overwhelmed tears, you open your mouth- 

“You didn’t hear th-”

“Wh-what was that?” 

“Nothing- oh-” Another clench. Another gushing spurt of his steamy precum dripping down your cervix. “-fuck you evil, evil little…” Sukuna’s baring his sharpened canines in a snarl - but that doesn’t do much to deter your grin when he’s practically shivering with stimulation above you. Stuttering. “I said- m-marry me.”

It’s a command more than a question, and it’s spewing out from Sukuna’s lips with every spearhead into your poor, bruised cunt. Pressing wet peck after peck on your cervix, your g-spot - anywhere and everywhere his thorough cocks could reach - as if he was trying to convince you to say yes. 

“It ah! feels so good, Kuna-” you’re dragging out from your shot throat, mouth clamping to a close around a hard bite on his muscular, tattooed shoulders. 

“Easy there on the ngh- merchandise.” He rolls his eyes, faintly going cross-eyed when your hips start bouncing back and forth back and forth back and forth in an attempt to match his pressurized cadence. “Though-” Sukuna’s gulping, your cunt had his mind in a frenzy, has this all-powerful sorcerer held hostage. “I guess I should cut some ngh- slack for the future queen.”

Ah, yes.

Sukuna could see it already - the only vision in his hazy mind getting clearer and clearer with each punishing thrust into your gummy depths, with each powerful drag of your hips to slam and bounce against his. The vision of you adorned in his robes and sitting on his throne, with a few little pink-haired heirs too…

And he’s getting ahead of himself - he’s completely, irrevocably pussydrunk at this point.

Out of control when he’s gliding one calloused hand across your tummy, where you’d be round and glowing for him should you wish. The second of his hands dipping cozily down for him to kiss your plump clit with his second mouth. Grinning, “F-for the future queen and…the mother of my kids.”

And when Sukuna’s cumming it’s with that exact image in mind - what a beautiful momma you’d be. What a beautiful cunt you have when you’re all slathered in a thick coating of his seed. 

All creamy and glomping out from between your puffed-up slit, you’re cumming at the sheer wave of it filling you up all inside. Until you were so stuffed you felt like you could burst. Seeing stars explode behind your eyes, and your ears thunder with the ricochet of Sukuna’s slowly softening cocks. “B-better not tell anyone about…that, my wife.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - LOVE love

“Please-” Ino’s staring up deeply into your drunken eyes like he never wanted to look away. Never could when you were straddled all prettily on top of him, riding the fucking soul out of his poor, inexperienced cock. “-j-jus’ the tip- nhgh-”

One taste of your pretty pussy and he was gone. 

Your hands are sliding greedily down his toned body, making themselves at home right over his pretty pectorals. Swirling over his rosy nipples, “Baby– we’re way past jus’ the ngh- tip.”

You were?

Shit, Ino’s practically grappling with that mushy part of himself to tear his glassy gaze down to where you’re swallowing him up into your gummy heaven. Breath hitching in a grovelling rasp at the way your puffy pussy lips were mounting wide open on his fat girth. Streaming down a waterfall of your glossy slick that covers him in a glistening coating. 

Fuck, he suddenly couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“O-oh.” Ino’s mouth sags open with a shuddering gasp, and he can’t help but grin. He can’t help but chuckle in a deep, wet way that makes his furious divot bawl out copious torrents of thick pre. “You are. G-guess you officially took my hah- virginity, huh, pretty?”

Guiding a few slender fingers to give the jiggling fat of your ass a sharp smack! You can only keen when Ino bucks his hips up further and further - harder. Every second sending him into a frenzy.

“T-Taku…” you’re whining out. Fingers glissading across his warm, sweat-sheened collarbones and curling around his tender throat. “I th-thought I told you to let me do all the ah- work…”

Oh, he’s leaning upwards in a sudden surge to kiss up against your lips in a wet glide. Humming confidently like he wasn’t fucking ruined every time your hips came crashing down. “But I can’t help it- can’t- ah- wan’ you to fuckin’ use me.”

Ino didn’t know what he was doing - didn’t even know what he was thinking when he’s curving his powerful back to send a riotous few crashes against your bruising g-spot. To fuck up into you so harsh that it leaves the bed frame protesting in creaks.

Dancing his own digits to intertwine with yours on his neck - Ino makes you squeeze. “Tighter. Harder. C’mon now- f-fuck me, pretty.”

You have no choice but to obey - to slide back and forth on his uprightly curved cock, the angle was dizzying with its collisions against the bullseye of that spot. His heavy balls smack into your ass until you were sure it bruised. And still- still it wasn’t enough.

Stil, Ino finds himself veering a trembly hand up to your plump clit. Leaving a sodden, stinging smack! 

“W-woah…” His voice just cracks, brown strands of hair falling onto his sweat-glazed forehead when he’s jolting. “You just got- s-so soaked- tell me tell me how I hngh- do that again-”

So desperate. So eager to please. 

The adoration was just bursting from his half-lidded eyes and right through every sparring jut of his cock. Clashing. Kissing. Sopping French kisses into your treacly walls that make you squeal. “J-jus’ right there- hngh-”

“There? There, r-right?” He’s so pretty when he’s batting his long lashes up at you, dewy eyes practically fluttering shut at the way your cunt was clinging onto him. Needy. “A-and what about this? What about ngh- here?” 

How tentative…so cute. 

“Don’t be shy, baby–” Your voice was honey, so sweetened that it makes him bite back a few pathetic whimpers. A furiously innocent blush sunrising its way into his cheeks, “-you can hah- do whatever you want.”

Whatever.

Fuck, the words are barely out of your mouth before Ino’s clapping his massively splayed out hands onto the curve of your ass. He’s copping a generous grope while seeping his full length in staggering thrusts, and he’s so flexible. So smooth with his movements. 

Gifting another palm print that raises against your tender flesh, Ino has the audacity to bear you with a sleazy grin as soon as you strengthen your chokehold on him. Cutting off his airway, yet, he gives you a look that told you he was so in love. Making him choke out a little, “Yeah- yeah jus’ like that. N-need you to fucking ruin my life.”

You’re pecking his lips with such a pout, “Careful, or I might jus’ ngh- tie you up next time.”

And Ino doesn’t know if it’s the idea of a next time or the idea of, well, that but he’s letting his eyes veer crossed and head loll pathetically backwards. A languid drizzle of drool escaping his lips when he wrenches open his mouth and whines, “M’cumming- sh-shit I’m-”

It’s such a melty heaven between your legs. 

And Ino’s oozing out pearly gumdrops of cum into your womb, cumming and cumming so hard that he can’t stop it spilling out. And he doesn’t even want to because- shit, he’s never going to cum into his hand ever again. 

Doesn’t have to. 

Because when you’re finally reaching your high, your sloshing walls clamping around him was addictive. Those moans of yours so pretty that he’s almost wishing he’d brought out his phone to record them as his favorite song. 

“I love you-” He’s feeling every velvety throb of your pulse, every clench that his solidly pussydrunken mind would love to think is specifically to suck up every beading sob from his cock. “I love you I love you I- god, I fuckin’ love you, ma.” Feeling every splatter dripping down your cushiony walls. And that makes him cum again- again and again. Orgasms crashing into one another. Until his shaft can only upstart with a few beads of nothing. Cumming dry-

“W-wait are you on the pill, pretty?”

“...”

♡ GOJO SATORU - POCKETPUSSY3000

“Th-this is nothing like my PocketPussy3000…” The great Gojo Satoru can only gape at the way your sultry cunt was swallowing up his red, swollen cock. Can only grip you into a full nelson so bruising. So addicted. Every disappearing inch having his skin burst in a wave of tiny blue bolts of lightning. “Th-this is so much better.”

Better indeed, because the strongest was a virgin.

You’re pushing away the strands of white that cling onto his sweaty forehead, “I-I should ngh- stop you right now for comparing me to that thing.”

And it was just a little joke, really. 

But you didn’t anticipate the way that your poor boyfriend would shatter like the world just ended. 

His pretty pink lips parting in a slurring gasp, dewy blue eyes practically bulging out of his head. Babbling out something drawling and raw into the crook of your neck, “No- no no no–”

Two of his slender digits dip down to smear your swollen pussy lips wide open, scissoring your sloppy hole elastically open to shovel himself all the way until he was poking into your springy cervix.

“Y-you don’t mean that right?” He’s breathing. Hissing when your snug walls suck his fingerpads up with every lazy - urging pump. The double penetration making you keen. “P-please don’t don’t take this pretty pussy away from me- I jus- got- her-” He’s pressing a flurry of innocent kisses down your cheek. Over and over until you’re cracking a smile. “-I’ll throw it out- th-throw that stupid thing out. Don’t need it anymore when I have hngh you.”

Gojo’s absolutely melting at the sheer sex. 

So hot and cozy inside you that he’s fucking hypnotized. Drool driveling down the corner of his mouth when your plushy walls are molding all around his throbbing girth.

God, he truly was the strongest - such a massive cock that he didn’t even have to try to press wet little brandings of precum right near that spot.

“S-squeeze around me, sweetheart–” Gojo’s dragging his thumb sloppily all over your clit, and you get the distinct feeling that he’s making such a mess on purpose. “-please- I r-read about this once- can you…”

Ah, Gojo’s head slumps  backwards into the silken pillows with a soft thud! Just one gripping cling of your velvety walls around his cock had him seeing stars.

Had him seeing his future with you. Had him thinking that he might just be content to die right between your pretty thighs. Or worse - cum early.

Now, the strongest couldn’t cum before his girl - not even if it was his first time. No, no, no. The strongest had to bite down on one of his wobbly rose lips before any more embarrassing whines could let slip, planting his feet firmly steadfast onto the mattress to gift a punishing thrust into you. 

Jostling into your body until you felt weightless, he’s streaming up translucent glosses of precum with every one of his bounces. Every shuddering thwack! of his tight, cum-filled balls, every bruising smack of his sharp hips onto your ass. 

“Where is it-” he’s muttering darkly into your ear. More, more, more. Massive hands coveting all down where he could feel the obscenely thick cylindrical outline of his own length rummaging inside you. Leaving a mess. Making a mess. “C’mon c’mon- c’mon…where is it.”

“Wh-what are you even- ah!” you squeal when he gives your puffy clit a ruthless pinch. “-what are you even looking for, Toru–”

This only leaves you with a few more circular bruises on your cervix, and you catch the way that Gojo’s ruts grow sloppier. The way his pants become more condensed. And he’s dragging his sweat-slicked cheek down your own with a strained call of your name - practically purring. 

“Don’t- ohh shit- don’t say my name like that-” Gojo whines - whines. “Please. You don’t know h-how heavenly this gorgeous cunt is, hah- have mercy the first time, sweetness.”

But of course you don’t.

“Toru–”

“Fuck!” Gojo’s dazed eyes snap open in an instant, it was almost as if on autopilot the way his fingers spark subconsciously with a few sparks of cursed energy - he couldn’t hold it in. He didn’t want to. 

With a few swift movements, he’s using years and years of practice in battle to wrangle two strong arms around your waist and shove you face-first onto the king-sized mattress. 

One sculpted thigh kneeing open your trembly legs further onto all fours, the other hiking up, up, up to angle his reddish tip right into your neglected g-spot. So harsh. So thorough. 

“No- no no no- lemme see that p-pretty face.” He’s hauling your pliant body into what you think is a headlock, feeling your neck surrounded by Gojo’s pale, bulging bicep. So tight. it makes you whirl your glassy eyes around and-

Oh.

Oh.

Gojo Satoru was ruined.

Was letting his six eyes work overtime to locate your cushiony sweet spots, directing his slender hips to plummet right into each and every one. Greedy gaze practically glowing every time your knees weaken when his rotund, weepy head crashes into your battered sensitive spots. Buttering up your insides in a thick, creamy gloss of pre. Close. He was so close. 

“Th-that’s cheating–” 

“N-nooo not cheating.” he’s leaving the tiniest bites and hickeys all over your exposed neck, back muscles flexing when he bows easily into your own body. You could feel every massage and glide of his washboard abs down your arched spine. He was so hot. Burning up, practically. “I did my r-research…” And it’s the way his powerfully buzzing digits roll messily over your clit that has you wondering whether he even realized he was using his powers.

Whether he was too pussydrunk to.

Too cocky about the way all it takes is a few lazy seconds of his rude toying with your sensitive nub for you to cum. Hell yeah - before him, he’s noting with a heady laugh. 

A laugh. 

Wide and humorless - directed at you when just a singular gush of your drooling lips makes his eyes slide all the way to the back of his head. And he couldn’t help the way his head drops backwards, all it takes for Gojo to stumble right over the edge. 

“Shit shit shit shit-” he’s scrunching his eyes open - just barely registering the way the bedroom lights have shattered. Letting out a low hiss before painting your gummy insides in a milky coat of his thick seed. 

Leaving the wettest traces all over your cervix, he can feel its sloshing dredges all around him when Gojo’s ragging down your walls to glide his twitch cock out. To gasp at the way your teary slit was drizzling him in a glistening lamination of his own cum. 

Drip! Drip! Dripping all down onto the expensive navy sheet - and he’s finding himself grinning. Shuffling down to his knees until his mouth pressed a pretty peck onto your slobbering pussy, “A-after this m’gonna sh-show you how the strongest really fucks his PocketPussy3000…imaginin’ you.”

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely weekkk!!

Plagiarism not authorized.