#anyone someone give him dicks he need some humbling

[solar-wing]

⚣ Dick: The Popular Kid 😉

⚣😉 A/N → @swimmingpainterhandsfreak here you are! This is going to come in 3 parts, this one for Dick, and the next two for Jason and Conner separately. Every time I tried to do them all together, I kept getting stuck. They'll all be included in each other's in some fashion, but they'll still all have their own respective parts. Also, because I couldn't find it in my heart to do a fic where Y/N had to choose. Call me a wimp, IDC! Okay maybe just a little...either way, enjoy! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Courting Rituals | Highschool AU | Alpha Dick Grayson | Omega Male Reader | No one is a vigilante | Dick and Jason are not brothers | Dick is the stereotypical popular kid | Smut |

⚣😉 Summary → Dick, the most popular Alpha in school and one of the sweetest souls anyone will ever meet has his eyes on someone special. What's his plan?

⚣😉 Words → 7.0k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 😉

Dick Grayson? Everyone knows who Dick Grayson is.

Everyone where he went, people swooned and fawned over him like some graceful dignitary or even divine being had just crossed their paths. His charisma was magnetic, drawing others into his orbit effortlessly.

With a smile that could disarm the most skeptical and a charm that seemed to flow from him like a natural force, he moved through the corridors as if he owned them, yet always with a friendly word or a helping hand for those around him. He wasn't just admired; he was adored, a living legend among ordinary teenagers.

And yet, you’d never know it from how Dick acted around others.

Dick Grayson remained remarkably humble and grounded. Unlike many in his position, he never let the almost worshiping attention warp his character. His kindness knew no bounds, and his humility was genuine.

Despite being the adoptive son of Gotham's beloved billionaire, Bruce Wayne, and having access to all the privileges that came with it, Dick never flaunted his status or wealth. Instead, he used his influence for good, often volunteering his time to help those less fortunate in Gotham City.

His actions spoke volumes, proving that true greatness lies not in the accolades one receives but in the way one treats others. In a world where fame and fortune often breed arrogance and entitlement, Dick Grayson stood out as a shining example of grace and compassion.

Bruce was the “Billionaire Playboy,” and Dick was subsequently deemed as “Gotham’s Prince Charming.”

And every prince needed someone to share their kingdom with; Dick Grayson was no exception.

Which is why Gotham’s most prestigious high school and its student population were positively abuzz with excitement at the rumors flying around that Dick was planning to court someone. While many had their own ideas (most being hopes that Dick would choose them), mostly everyone had one certain candidate in mind that had beseeched their heart of their school’s Prince Charming.

“Bitch, are you blind? Have you not seen how hot Y/N and Dick look together?” Sasha replied.

“OMG, yeeess! Like seriously, imagine how cute their kids would be. And Dick would probably be like the world’s best dad.” Manny screeched.

“Fuck all that. Y/N needs to give a real Alpha a chance.” Kevin proclaimed, puffing his chest out.

Everyone at the lunch table eyed the athlete while trying to hold back their chuckles, “Dude, no offense. But, you’ve got nothing on Dick. I wonder how Jason and Conner are gonna react.”

“Well, the four of them have been best friends since what, like the 1st grade? I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” Ethan said bored, scrolling through his social media feed on his phone before coming across an interesting post, “Oh, would you look at that, Dick proposed to Y/N.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone collectively screamed at the table before Ethan’s phone was snatched out of his hand so they could all see.

“Rude,” The beta scoffed.

Dick had known Y/N practically since diapers after Bruce adopted him when his parents were caught in a fatal accident. The Omega’s parents, specifically his dad, had been classmates and friends with the billionaire.

From the early days of their childhood, they went from being adolescents who were thrown in the playpen together while their parents hung out and caught up, to being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, and now serving as constant headaches for the adults. They shared everything from toys and snacks to hopes and dreams, their laughter echoing through the halls of Wayne Manor as they embarked on countless adventures together.

Their parents often liked to joke that the two of them together were like two halves of one brain cell. Which, if you knew the two, it was nothing but the truth. Even worse when their other buddies Conner Kent and Jason Todd were involved, all four growing up with each other and causing massive chaos when together.

But, for Dick and Y/N, their bond had been special since day one.

From the earliest days of their childhood, Dick and Y/N had been inseparable. Under their parents' watchful eye, they had grown up side by side, learning and exploring the world around them with the curiosity and wonderment of youth.

As they navigated the trials and tribulations of adolescence, their friendship had only deepened, strengthened by the trials they faced together. Whether it was navigating the complexities of high school or grappling with the weight of their respective legacies, they had always found solace and support in each other's company.

In Dick, Y/N found not just a friend, but a pillar of strength, someone to lean on when he felt like he couldn’t stand so strong on his own. Dick's unwavering presence provided a sense of security and stability in a world filled with uncertainty. His caring sensibility and compassionate nature offered solace in times of need, a comforting reminder that no matter what challenges they faced, they would never have to weather them alone.

When they both reached the age of puberty where their second biological statuses would present themselves, their friendship remained steadfast and strong. As Y/N's presentation as an Omega became apparent, the dynamics of their friendship did shift subtly yet significantly added more depth to their relationship.

When there were sudden whispers and sideways glances, a subtle unease had settled in the newly presented Omega, shaking his confidence that had been strong up until then. For Y/N, the change was both bewildering and overwhelming, as he grappled with the newfound scrutiny and expectations that came with his new biological status.

But amidst the uncertainty and the whispers, there was one constant: Dick Grayson. From the moment Y/N's presentation became known, Dick was there, unwavering in his support and resolute in his loyalty. He stood by Y/N's side, a steadfast presence in the face of adversity, offering a shoulder to lean on and a voice of reason in moments of doubt.

When the bullies came, as they inevitably did, it was Dick who stood between them and Y/N, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. With his new Alpha status and ever-growing popularity standing because of it, the bullying attempts were short-lived since none of their classmates wanted to commit what they considered social suicide by getting on the son of Gotham’s most beloved billionaire’s bad side.

Which, Y/N definitely considered them smart for it. Because, while Dick was always kind and pleasant to everyone, he was never a pushover and would always defend those he cared for with striking resilience.

Emphasis on the ‘striking’ part. Bruce had Dick put in self-defense lessons from the moment he could walk. An unspoken necessity considering the lives they lived.

But perhaps more than his physical prowess, it was Dick's words that offered the greatest solace to Y/N. In moments of doubt and insecurity, when the weight of expectations threatened to overwhelm him, Dick was there, reminding him that there was more to him than any title, rule, or expectation someone placed on him because of his status.

He‘d always repeat how he was strong and capable and that he didn't need the validation of others to prove his worth. And that he’d never know just how much he’d mean to others, especially the Alpha himself.

In Y/N, Dick found not just a friend, but a soulmate—a partner whose presence brought a sense of completeness to his life. As they navigated the complexities of adolescence and the challenges of growing up, Y/N became more than just a confidant; he became a source of emotional support and unwavering understanding.

When Dick grappled with the weight of his past, mourning the loss of his parents and struggling to find his place in the world, it was Y/N who offered a shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic ear to listen. With quiet strength and boundless compassion, Y/N stood by Dick's side through every tear shed and every heartache endured, providing a sense of solace and comfort that no one else could.

But Y/N offered more than just emotional support; he offered clarity and perspective in moments of confusion and doubt. With an intuitive understanding of Dick's innermost thoughts and feelings, Y/N helped him navigate the murky waters of identity and self-discovery, guiding him toward a greater sense of who he truly was.

And while Dick may have been the Alpha in their friendship, it was Y/N who kept him on his toes, challenging him to be better, to do better, in every aspect of his life. Whether it was pushing him to excel academically, encouraging him to pursue his passions, or gently nudging him towards self-improvement, Y/N was always there, helping Dick fill in wherever he was slacking and encouraging him to reach new heights.

But amidst the laughter and the shared moments of joy, there lingered an undeniable tension—a spark of something deeper and more profound. It was a connection that transcended friendship, a bond that spoke of unspoken desires and unfulfilled yearnings. In Y/N, Dick found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime, and perhaps, if fate allowed, something more.

Their relationship was a dance of longing and restraint, a delicate balance of affection and restraint that left them both yearning for more. And as they stood on the precipice of adulthood, their futures intertwined in ways they could never have imagined, Dick couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, Y/N was more than just a friend—he was the missing piece of the puzzle, the one who completed him in ways he never thought possible.

While he may have been too young to really understand everything he was feeling, he knew he didn’t want the chance of him never getting to learn more about it ever become a reality.

So, Dick went to his dad, to ask him how he could properly court his friend. Of course, Bruce, being the observant one who always liked to play detective as his friends and colleagues would point out, was not surprised at his son's request.

Truthfully, he was waiting for the day when Dick and Y/N got together and even had a little wager going on with the Omega's parents. Speaking of which,  he'd won, making sure to have Alfred remind him to collect his winnings from the L/N's when all this was said and done.

Actually, he figured why not collect his winnings as soon as possible. Being a bit of a traditionalist, something he got from his own father, Bruce advised his son the best first thing for him to do was to get Y/N's parents' blessing before he committed to anything else.

So, while Y/N was busy hanging out with some friends for an after-school club, Dick and Bruce made their way over to the L/N residence, where the billionaire smugly watched his son ask the two males if he could court their son. Of course, they gave their blessings with joy, but they didn't miss the subtle smirk on their friend's face as Y/N's dad went to grab his wallet.

Bruce took Dick to the stores to find Y/N a special gift, something that would symbolize his commitment and devotion to his feelings towards the Omega, but would also be an accurate representation of them. The younger male was torn between the many options, unsure of what would be the best choice.

When his eyes landed on a shining, silver chain with a sapphire pendant cut into the shape of a bird, Dick knew this was the one. He made sure to wear it for about a week, using his favorite colognes frequently so it was covered in his scent.

Then, right before lunch, he'd presented the gift to the Omega in the hallway of their school with many of their classmates as witnesses.

"What's this?" Y/N asked, looking down at the velvet box Dick had handed him.

"Remember that history project we had for Mr. Kari's class, and you chose to do one on the ancient Kryptonian society and all its mythological lessons," Dick explained, smiling softly as the memories flooded back.

"I remember."

"Well, I happened to be out shopping the other day–"

"Uh huh, I'll choose to believe that,'" Y/N eyed him suspiciously, making the Alpha chuckle.

"And, I saw this necklace," Dick continued, taking the box from the Omega's hand and opening it.

When the male caught sight of the jewel inside, his breath hitched, unable to take his eyes off the shimmering blue gem.

"It reminded me of your research on the mythological lore of the two birds," Dick explained, pulling the necklace from its cushion, "Flamebird and–"

"Nightwing," Y/N finished his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Dick smiled, "I guess the jeweler was a fan of the story. But, I remember you talking about their relationship, how they fell in love and were mates, destined to always be reborn and find each other, and it made me think of us, and how I don't ever want to think of life without you."

Take notes folks. Dude's got game.

"Y/N, will you accept this token and allow me the honor to court you, with the hope of becoming your Nightwing?"

Dick knew the Omega was going to later berate him and possibly hit him over the head with a pillow or something for making him cry at school. He liked to refer to himself as an emotional thug, something Jason accurately always called bullshit on.

"You're lucky you're cute you jerk," Y/N sniffled, hugging the Alpha tightly, "Of course, I will."

"Thank you, beautiful," Dick whispered, hugging the male back, ignoring the whistles and cheers of their classmates.

Y/N turned so his back was facing the Alpha, allowing him to clasp the necklace around his neck, the jewel resting near his heart. Dick smiled, wrapping his arms around the male and nuzzling his nose against the other's neck.

"Ugh, I'm calling it. They're so gonna get married and have a bunch of model babies." Manny gushed.

"I can't believe Y/N didn't realize sooner Dick was into him. How oblivious can you be?" Sasha asked.

"He's an Omega. It's a blessing and a curse. Blessing because they're usually the most beautiful and have the best genes. Curse because they're the most clueless and naive. If an Alpha wants to fuck, they're the easiest to seduce." Kevin replied.

"You're a pig. You're lucky no one has tried to castrate you yet." Ethan deadpanned.

"I'm not wrong."

"Still a pig, and you definitely are," Kara replied.

"Whatever. I still think Dick is a weak choice of an Alpha—"

"You're just mad because Y/N didn't go with you to homecoming."

"I'm not—shut up, Ethan! All I'm saying is that Dick is not the ideal choice for someone like Y/N. He needs an Alpha who's strong, can put him in his place when needed, and doesn't put up with his shit. Not a rich pretty boy who's spineless and soft. I'd even say Conner would be a better choice for him, not before myself though," Kevin stated, puffing his chest out a bit.

"Yeah, uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, babes," Manny said, rolling his eyes.

"Just wait and see. When this ends in disaster, and Y/N realizes Dick can't protect or provide for him like a true Alpha can, he'll come running straight into my arms," Kevin said confidently, smirking.

"Maybe this is why you never get invited to Dick's parties anymore and always have to count on getting in with the rest of the football team," Kara mocked.

Kevin rolled his eyes, "Whatever I'm telling you, it's only a matter of time. Yeah, Dick's cool and nice and all that, but that's only going to get him so far. Plus, all the expensive gifts in the world don't compare to the value of a real Alpha," Kevin said while flexing his arms under his varsity jacket.

"Yeah, a real Alpha like you?" Sasha snickered.

"Exactly," Kevin smirked.

"Uh huh, sure. Keep dreaming, sweetie," Manny laughed.

He along with many others would indeed have to keep dreaming. Dick Grayson was not one to do things halfway.

The teen Alpha spared no expense when courting Y/N, taking him on extravagant dates, and spoiling him with lavish gifts. Of course, much of this was being spent on Bruce's coin, but the billionaire didn't mind if it meant he got to see his son happy.

Y/N also knew how Dick was the perfect gentleman (having an English butler who knew everything about being prim and proper helped a lot), but what he was seeing from the Alpha now was a completely different level of chivalry.

He was pulling out the chair for him if he wasn't opening the door for him or offering his coat. If he wasn't paying for the food or dessert, he was giving him his own. If he wasn't helping him into the car, he was holding his hand and making sure his seat belt was fastened.

Y/N was practically never allowed to pay for anything while in Dick's presence, or even in moments when he wasn't. When Y/N accidentally shattered his phone, his parents didn't even need to call the store to order a replacement cause Dick had gone ahead and ordered Y/N the latest new phone.

Dick wasn't just spending Bruce's money willy-nilly. Since Y/N accepted his courting date, Dick got a job just so he could use that extra money to spend on Y/N. Bruce just tended to fund the really expensive dates and gestures.

It gets to a point where Y/N has to think about his words carefully around the Alpha because, within a span of twenty to thirty minutes, it would be presented to him with a bright, adorable smile that made it impossible to be mad at him. The Omega was craving Wendys for lunch and without thinking about it said it out loud. On his way to lunch with a couple of friends, he was confused because Dick wasn't with him since they always walked together from lunch.

But, his sudden disappearance was immediately explained when after arriving at the cafeteria, he turned to see Dick walking in with bags from Wendys.

"Really?" Y/N eyed him with an amused raised brow as the Alpha set the food and drinks on the table.

"What?" Dick responded, an innocent look on his face.

That became more of their routine, even in situations where money was not involved. If Y/N wanted something, he wouldn't need to say a word, and Dick would do it.

One of Y/N's favorite things in the world was Alfred's baking, especially his cookies. On days when the Omega was feeling up to it or was just down in the dumps about something, Dick would surprise him with the cookies. Of course, he was paying for the ingredients and materials and just having Alfred do the baking, but Y/N didn't need to know that.

Sometimes, Y/N would get into a depressive funk about something and would start forgetting to take care of himself. His parents knew how to handle it, but nowadays, they just called Dick, and in under an hour, the Alpha was at their house helping Y/N get back on his feet. Helping him clean his room, organize things around him, and get himself back on track.

If you thought they were inseparable before, well, that was nothing compared to now.

Dick and Y/N were practically joined at the hip, always together, and always touching. Holding hands, shoulders, thighs, waist, etc.

And just as much as there was a slight change in Dick's behavior (in a positive manner of speaking), in how he treated the Omega, there was also a slight shift in his attitude towards others when it came to him as well. It wasn't obvious at first, but to those who paid attention or knew more about them, many could also see how much more protective Dick had grown of Y/N.

Don't be misled, Dick never lost his friendly and kind attitude with others. But, it was easy to see the Alpha tended to become a bit more on guard when with the Omega and they weren't solely around family like their parents or Conner and Jason.

Dick was always at Y/N's side or close by, ready to jump in at a moment's notice if he noticed even the slightest hesitation or uncomfortableness from his Omega. Which, no one would actively fault the Alpha for it, knowing it was typical for Alphas to become a bit more territorial and protective in any matter regarding the Omega they were courting.

And it didn't help that their school was full of prideful, jealous, and horny Alphas along with envious Betas and bitter Omegas. Even more considering they were all hormonal teenagers as well.

When it comes to a courting ritual, there is no greater challenge than competing with other potential suitors.

Since Dick currently held the title of one the most popular Alphas in school, if not the most popular one, mostly every Omega and a significant number of Betas wanted him as their boyfriend. But, since his eyes were on Y/N, that made the Omega in question the recipient of many fake, cheery smiles tinged with jealousy and obvious, hateful glares.

Which, to be honest, he didn't know which one unsettled him more.

On the other end, there were no shortages of Alphas and would-be suitors who saw and wanted Y/N as their mate. And with Dick suddenly courting the Omega, he'd pretty much made himself an open target, even if the majority of them were smart enough to know the consequences.

Dick didn't blame them, of course. Even though he always thought of his Omega as attractive, handsome, beautiful, and every other adjective in a thesaurus, he could clearly see how much Y/N had grown into himself since their early years as teenagers.

Y/N went from being one of the many everyone picked on and pushed around, to being one of the few most sought-after Omegas in the entire school. While puberty could be the literal curse of inconvenience and interruption, there was no arguing that it had its benefits as well.

And many would attest to those benefits personally. Not too much though since they knew Dick was a black belt in martial arts. But, there were always those who thought of themselves as untouchable and would try to test the waters, not realizing the depth of the ocean they were about to dive into.

"Oh, hey, Y/N. You're looking pretty hot today. Maybe we should hang out later. Grab some food or something," An Alpha said, leaning against his locker, his arm blocking his exit.

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks, Mike," Y/N politely declined, trying to pass the guy's arm, but the Alpha wouldn't budge.

"Aw, c'mon, baby. Don't be like that. You know, I could show you a good time. Better than what you've ever experienced. I could treat you right," The male purred, leaning in closer.

"I'm sure you could, but I'm not interested, sorry. Now, if you would excuse me, I have class," Y/N said, trying once again to push the other away.

"Why are you playing hard to get, huh? We both know that's not who you are, baby," Mike replied, grabbing the Omega's wrist and pushing him against the lockers.

"I said, 'no,'" Y/N glared, pushing the guy off him, "So, leave me alone."

"Aww, don't be like that. Come on, let's go have some fun, baby," Mike smirked, pulling the Omega into him.

"Mike, stop," Y/N said, struggling in his grip.

"Excuse me."

Both turned to see Dick, the Alpha's gaze sharp, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Dick! Hey, man. What's up?" Mike greeted, letting go of the Omega.

"Not much, just getting my books for next period out of my boyfriend's locker," Dick answered, moving to stand beside Y/N, putting a protective arm around his shoulder, "How about you?"

"Oh, uh, nothing much. Just hanging out. I was actually going to head to the library, so I'll see you later," The male tried to quickly excuse himself, only to turn and bump into Conner and Jason who were both standing there with their arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Going somewhere, Mike?" Conner asked, stepping forward.

"Yeah, man. Why the rush? You didn't seem like you were in a hurry a few minutes ago," Jason added, taking his place beside the other.

"No, no. I was just heading to the library. Need to catch up on some studying but uh, I'll catch you guys later," Mike said, but was once again stopped by the two Alphas.

"Why don't we walk with you? Make sure you make it there safely. It's the least we can do, right?" Jason said, a nervous look painted on the other's face.

"You wouldn't mind, would you?" Conner asked, an almost sinister smile on his lips.

"No, no. Of course not," Mike sighed, defeated.

"Well, then. Lead the way," Jason said, motioning for the guy to continue, watching him as he walked away.

"You're coming with us, right, Dickie?" Jason asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Yeah, I can't let you two have all the fun," Dick smirked, before turning to Y/N, "Mind taking both our books to class, babe? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Of course not," Y/N nodded, giving the three a small wave as they turned the corner.

The Omega sighed, shaking his head, "Bunch of idiots," He said fondly, walking to his next class.

No one was surprised when Mike turned up at school the next day sporting a black eye and plenty of bruises to match. The three Alphas would deny anything, but everyone could guess what happened.

"Still think Dick can't protect or provide like a real Alpha," Manny asked Kevin with a mocking attitude after they heard about the incident with Mike.

"Shut up, dude," Kevin glared, grumbling.

Dick would continue his courting, making sure to put the fear of God into any other Alpha who dared to lay a hand on his Omega. He was determined to prove his worth, not just to the Omega, but also to anyone else who doubted him.

After everything the Alpha had done, Y/N couldn't imagine anyone else better for him. Sure, Dick wasn't a traditional, stereotypical, and cliche Alpha. He was more on the reserved and kinder side of the spectrum.

But, that's what made him special. He was someone who could make you laugh, even on your worst days, and could comfort you without needing to say a word. When he wasn't the class clown, he was the one everyone could count on and rely on.

His patience was endless, his kindness boundless, and his loyalty unwavering. And, not to forget, the dude was super fucking hot.

Just as much as Y/N was emotionally and mentally attracted to Dick, not that he was looking at the Alpha in a different line since the beginning of this courting ritual, the physical attraction he felt was almost overwhelming.

Dick may not have been on any sports teams, but he might as well have been, cause the dude was fucking ripped. He had abs for days and a backside and thighs to die for. Not to mention, the muscles in his arms.

Y/N could feel himself salivate whenever he had the pleasure of seeing the Alpha undressed and was very lucky no one had ever seen him drooling over his best friend. And the same went for Dick, who'd always been attracted to Y/N but only had just recently started acting on those feelings.

And what did you get when you had two hormonal, in-love teenagers?

Two horny fuckers who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

"We're going to be late," Y/N said, panting against the door of the janitor's closet they were in, his shirt discarded and pants unbuckled with Dick kneeling on the floor in front of him enjoying himself immensely on the Omega's arousal.

"Don't care," Dick murmured, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through the younger's body.

"Someone's gonna find us," Y/N moaned, gripping the Alpha's hair tightly.

"They won't," Dick hummed, his tongue swirling around as he continued his erotic ministrations.

"Fuck," Y/N whimpered, his hips bucking forward.

"Any louder and you'll be the ones who get us caught," Dick teased, pressing a finger toward the Omega's slicked hole which pushed them over the edge.

"I hate you," Y/N panted, leaning his head against the door, his eyes closed as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"No, you don't. You love me," Dick smiled, the area around his mouth shiny with Y/N's arousal and cum as he stood up and pressed a kiss against the Omega's cheek.

"Ew! Dick, gross," Y/N whined, wiping and cheek and pushing the Alpha back.

"What? It came from your body! That's basically kissing you," Dick chuckled, fixing his clothes.

"That's not how it works and you know it. You're disgusting. I'm not doing this with you anymore," Y/N stated, cleaning himself up.

That was a lie.

Y/N found himself in a role-reversal situation as he was on his knees, forcing the Alpha against the wall while bobbing his head up and down on the Alpha's cock with unforgiving energy.

"Fuck, baby. She was only giving me her notes for the physics exam," Dick groaned, his hand fisting the Omega's hair.

"I'm sure," Y/N growled, his teeth lightly scraping along the length, his mouth still working, "That's probably why she was trying to scent mark you too, right?"

"She wasn't–shit, babe. Fucking hell, that's it. Right there," Dick moaned, his hips thrusting forward.

"Wasn't what? Going to try and get you to knot her in the bathroom stall after the test? Cause, I'm pretty sure that's what her plan was, right?" Y/N seethed, his hand pumping the Alpha's shaft, his tongue flicking the slit.

"Geez, who knew you could get so jealous," Dick chuckled, his breathing ragged.

"Shut the fuck up. Don't think I won't bite this thing off," Y/N threatened, his teeth lightly scraping the flesh.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But, you don't have to worry, alright? There's no one else but you, Y/N. No matter how many Omegas try and throw themselves at me, my eyes will always be on you. Only you," Dick promised, caressing the other's cheek.

Y/N only gave him a look before his mouth was engulfing the Alpha's cock, sucking and licking the throbbing appendage while squeezing at the base to prevent him from cumming.

"Fucking hell, baby. I'm sorry, okay. I won't talk to her again. Promise," Dick whimpered, his orgasm feeling like he was going to collapse if he didn't cum down the Omega's throat soon.

"Damn right, you won't. This here belongs to me. Understand?" Y/N stated his tone firm and commanding while gripping the hard cock in his hand harder for emphasis.

"Yes. Shit, yes. Please, Y/N," Dick begged, his legs starting to shake.

"Who's is it, Dickie?"

"Yours,"

"Who's the only one who gets to taste, touch, or smell this?"

"Only you,"

"Good," Y/N purred, his tongue running to the shaft and its leaking head.

"Oh my god," Dick moaned, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

"You're all mine, Dick Grayson," Y/N declared, his lips wrapping around the swollen head, sucking and licking the precum.

"Yours. All yours, beautiful. Only you," Dick whimpered, his hips rocking gently, his eyes rolling back as he came into the Omega's mouth.

Y/N greedily swallowed, his hands moving to squeeze and massage the Alpha's balls, milking him dry. Dick stared down at the sight of the Omega with his cock still inside his mouth, the male's cheeks hollowed out as he sucked.

"Tastes so good," Y/N hummed, his tongue lapping up the remaining liquid.

"Jesus, babe," Dick groaned, pulling the Omega off the ground and onto his feet.

"What?" Y/N asked innocently, smiling at the Alpha.

"Nothing," Dick smiled, kissing him, "You're just amazing, that's all."

They couldn't get enough of each other, continuing their sneaking off to empty classrooms and bathrooms, sometimes even the gym showers and the locker rooms. They would usually do their "business" in the middle of the day, right after lunch or in the morning.

They would try to do it at each other's house, but would constantly get interrupted by their parents, who more often than not knew what their kids were getting up to. They were teenagers themselves once and didn't want to risk the young Alpha and Omega making a mistake.

It's why neither was allowed to hang out in the other's room without the door open. They used to sleep in the same bed when they were younger, but after they presented and especially started becoming a couple, both Y/N's parents and Dick's dad had to lay down some strict rules.

Didn't mean they would listen though.

"Dick, stop," Y/N whimpered, his hands gripping Dick's forearms as he laid with his back against the Alpha's shirtless chest, his hips rocking into the Alpha's fingers.

"Fuck, baby. So fucking wet," Dick groaned, his fingers thrusting into the Omega's slick, heated hole.

"Dick, your dad or Alfred could hear us and walk in at any moment," Y/N panted, his legs quivering.

"You should've thought about that before you teased me in the car," Dick whispered, his fingers curling and pressing against the spot that had the Omega crying out.

"Fuck!" Y/N whimpered, his fist flying up to his mouth and biting down.

"Yeah, that's it, babe. Stay quiet as you can," Dick husked, his pace increasing, his fingers stretching the Omega's hot walls.

"Mmph," Y/N moaned, his head falling back against the Alpha's shoulder, his hips rocking against the other's hand.

"That's it, baby. Just like that. Feel so good, babe. Gonna ruin this tight little hole of yours," Dick purred, his free hand tweaking and tugging at the Omega's sensitive nipples.

"Dick, please. Wanna cum," Y/N cried, his hand reaching behind and gripping the Alpha's neck.

"Then, cum. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers, baby," Dick grunted, his fingers twisting and curling.

"Shit, shit, shit," Y/N chanted, his voice muffled as he bit down on his fist, his orgasm ripping through him, his cum coating his stomach.

"Hey dudes– OH MY FUCKING GOD!"

Both males froze, their heads snapping towards the door, their eyes widening as they saw Jason and Conner standing there, their mouths hanging open.

"Guys! What the fuck!" Dick immediately grabbed his comforter to cover Y/N.

"Dude! We didn't need to see that! What the fuck!" Jason shouted, his hands covering his face.

"This is the worst day ever," Conner mumbled, his eyes closed and shaking his head.

"Get the fuck out!" Dick growled, throwing a pillow at the two.

"Don't have to tell us twice!"

Both boys immediately turned around and ran out of the room, closing the door shut.

"Those two idiots. I'm gonna kill them," Dick grumbled, his arms wrapping protectively around the Omega.

"Well, we should've been more careful," Y/N said, sighing as he still was coming down from his orgasm and the shock of their friends walking in on them.

"Yeah, well. You were the one who decided to tease me the entire car ride," Dick defended.

"Whatever, I'm taking a shower. I feel sticky and gross," Y/N huffed, removing himself from the Alpha's grasp and heading to the bathroom.

"I'm joining you," Dick stated, getting up and following him.

"You're insatiable," Y/N shook his head, a smile on his lips.

"Only for you, baby," Dick winked, shutting the door behind him.

He was indeed insatiable, and it only got worse when they finally did the entire deed, Dick craving every touch and drop of the Omega he could get. It'd get even worse when his instincts and his jealous and territorial side would show when another Alpha would stupidly try to make a move on his Omega.

Now, that Dick had gotten a full taste of the Omega, outside and in, no one could compare. And the thought of someone else touching his Omega, made his blood boil.

Y/N's thighs had trembled as he lay back against the leather back seats of Dick's sports car, the Alpha's large firm, and sweaty body hovering over him as he snapped his hips forwards, inserting his full length inside the Omega. The car rocked back and forth with the force of his thrusts, making the tinted windows fog and preventing anyone from seeing the two teens inside.

"Mine. All mine," Dick growled, his nails digging into the Omega's plush hips, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing.

"Fuck, Dick," Y/N whined, his legs spreading wider, allowing the Alpha to reach deeper, his thrusts unforgiving.

Dick kissed the inside of the Omega's neck, bringing his sweaty body closer when he could feel it sliding up and retreating from his harsh movements. He pressed Y/N harder into the seats as he increased his pace, causing the Omega's moans and noises to reach a higher volume.

"Don't run from me," Dick grunted, his lips capturing the other's in a searing kiss as fucked into him at an even rougher pace.

He nudged Y/N's thighs apart with his hips that attempted to close from reflex, the Omega's body jolting with every deep, forceful thrust. Y/N let out a strained moan, his nails scratching down the Alpha's broad and muscular back as he was fucked like a slut, praying in the back of his mind none of their classmates would notice it steamy and rocking vehicle.

"No one else gets to have you. No one but me. You're mine, Y/N. Always have and always will be. Understand?" Dick's teeth scraped along the male's scent gland as he felt himself getting closer to his finish, "Say it. Say you're mine," He growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass, pushing his legs further apart, and holding him in place, his cock drilling into the younger's abused and leaking hole.

"Yours," Y/N sobbed, his tears running down his cheeks, his face flushed red, his heart pounding as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body on fire, "All yours, Dick. Forever and always."

Dick smiled at the proclamation, eyeing the blew pendant necklace laying against the Omega's sweaty skin right over his heart, his chest puffing out, pride swelling within him, "My Omega," He purred, before delivering a few more thrusts, slamming into the Omega with a loud groan as he shot his load into the condom.

The pair lay there, panting, trying to regain their breath. Dick had his head tucked against the Omega's neck, his arms wrapped around him tightly, his knot keeping him connected.

"Are you satisfied now?" Y/N breathed, his eyes closed, his hands resting on the Alpha's broad and sweaty back.

"For now," Dick answered, smiling, pressing a kiss against the male's skin.

"I swear if anyone saw us and spread this around the school because you got a little jealous–"

"A 'little' jealous? I was not a little jealous. That guy was all over you and wouldn't take no for an answer. I had to step in," Dick defended.

"We were talking, Dick. He was asking me for notes about the history final. Not every Alpha or Beta that talks to me is going to be another Mike," Y/N explained.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and cuddle me. I need affection," Dick pouted, snuggling the Omega.

Y/N chuckled, rolling his eyes, but did as asked, wrapping his arms and legs around the Alpha.

"There, better?"

"Much," Dick smiled with another soft kiss to the Omega's chest, right by his necklace.

"Good. Now, when are we getting you the necklace to match mine?" Y/N asked, his fingers tracing the lines of the muscles on the Alpha's back.

"Patience, baby," Dick chuckled, his hand rubbing up and down the smooth and soft body under him.

"Don't tell me to be patient," Y/N grumbled, pouting, "If you're Nightwing then I have to be Flamebird, which means you need a necklace that looks like a Flamebird. We're a mated pair, remember?"

"Oh I remember," Dick smirked, flexing his dick inside the Omega's warm walls.

"Fuck. Don't do that," Y/N whined, his legs tightening around the Alpha's waist, his back arching off the bed.

"Sorry, baby," Dick apologized, not sounding sorry at all.

"You're not," Y/N rolled his eyes.

"Nope," Dick grinned, his tongue licking up the Omega's neck.

Dick continued courting Y/N throughout the rest of the school year. As expected, they were each other's date to the prom where they proceeded to have hot, crazy sex at their hotel, and then came graduation.

To no one's surprise, other than maybe Y/N's, Dick proposed at their commencement ceremony, in front of everyone, the whole school watching. The Omega said yes, of course, and they were congratulated and cheered by their classmates and faculty.

Their parents were surprised, not expecting the couple to take the next step so quickly. They were happy for their sons, of course, but wanted them to be sure. Dick and Y/N agreed to both wait till after college to actually get married, fine with just being fiances' for now.

Someone had caught a picture of them kissing after Dick proposed and replaced the photo they had initially of them in the school's cutest couple section of their class yearbooks. The bunch of saps.

It was a love story straight out of the books—wait a second...

...

Nah.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🏍️ | Jason: The Rebel | 🏍️ • 🏈 | Conner: The Jock | 🏈

[reidmotif]

Always Bet on Black

Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.

Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 

My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  

And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 

I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 

Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 

How quickly my streak was destroyed. 

My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 

“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 

“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 

I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”

I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 

“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.

 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 

He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 

In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 

I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 

“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.

“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 

Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 

As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 

My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.

“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 

“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 

I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 

He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 

“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 

He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 

I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 

“You too.” 

For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 

I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 

“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.

“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 

“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 

It was official, something was off.

I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.

“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 

It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.

Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 

An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 

“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.

“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 

“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.

I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 

 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 

As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 

I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 

“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 

When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 

“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 

“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 

“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 

“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.

 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 

“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 

“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 

A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 

“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”

He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 

“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 

My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 

“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 

Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 

“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.

“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 

“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 

“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 

His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 

“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 

In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 

“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.

“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 

And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 

“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 

“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 

He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 

He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 

I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 

He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 

“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 

I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 

“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 

“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.

I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.

  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!

[suiana]

some of my yans and their ideal darling 😇

demon: preferably stoic, does not give a shit, will beat demon up if he gets too annoying, literally does not care about him, his status or the fact that he's a demon, treats him like an equal

assassin: someone who's nice, sweet, and patient, is hardworking and humble, knows how to take care of themself, generally soft but will become strong and stand up for themself when needed

idol: sarcastic, funny, does not use him for his status, literally does not care that he's an idol, makes fun of his company

chef: someone who's willing to learn, bright-eyed, cheerful, just be a ray of sunshine and you've earned his attention

villain: innocent but in an endearing way not those annoying "what is dick" way, has a sense of humour, physically and emotionally strong, humble but will brag as a joke, selfless

stalker: eye-catching, be one of a kind, don't be like others, literally just stand out, don't be like his parents

president: strong willed, has a strong sense of self, kind of dumb so he can tutor you, willing to own up to mistakes, does not take shit from anyone, will throw fists if needed

artist: again, kinda dumb, but in a cute way like itto from genshin!! sociable, talkative, cute and unique laugh, treats him like an equal

ex: flirty, FLIRTY, sexy, know your worth and power, never settle for less, not afraid to do what you want, FLIRTY

delinquent: stoic, strong, smart (yeah just be like the duke of the north in those manhwas HAHAH)

killer: be completely unfazed by his job, if you show even the tiniest bit of fear he's gonna kill you, be interesting, sarcastically funny

[cocomin-rp]

Continued from: all my friends are heathens (take it slow)

Arkham Asylum was a fascinating place, a place where all of the rejects resided. The insane people, those who were a danger to themselves and to others, were imprisoned where they wouldn't be able to hurt anyone. He couldn't help but think sometimes of those people that he himself had brought him, the ones who would still cry like babies at the mere mention of his name, –amazing, really, the power fear had on the human brain–.

Now this was his life so it seemed, being fed knockoff meds that did nothing to sedate them, equally, therapy sessions that were just as useless, and, of course, recreational time. The illusion of a time where they could do whatever they wanted under the gawking gaze of the workers.

Jonathan's eyes drifted to the side as he fixed his glasses, the chess pieces in front of him now laying as he turned his attention towards the other inmates. His eyes stopped on the so-called Jane Doe, the name you would give to a nameless woman. He watched as she faced them, the other clinically insane patients, as if she was scared that if she turned someone would snap her neck. The corners of his lips curved up in a cynical grin. The distrust, the uneasiness, all of them were common especially when presented to a situation like this. The slight frown between her eyebrows, a testimony of anger as much as it was of fear, looked good on her as far as he was concerned.

"Your turn" The inmate he was playing with called out, pulling him out of his thoughts. Jonathan reached out to make his move looking at the pieces.

"Isn't the new girl pretty?" He said with a sardonic laugh, grabbing the pawn "Bit quiet, but gives us something new to stare at. Some fresh blood to keep things interesting, eh?" He looked up at the other immate, his tone dripping with amusement and just a bit of sarcasm, his head falling back with his jaw lifted "Your move"

-

Luke sighed as he had been caught by the other, –Great, just great–. He then jumped from where he had been hiding, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thump. After years of stunning away every bat that came into his area of Gotham now here he was, standing before the eldest son. He lowered his head, deep circles surrounding his eyes behind his goggles. Gods above he needed a nap.

“Fine, you caught me, congratulations,” he said, unable to keep a sarcastic tone from seeping, as he raised his hands in a defensive stance. He wasn't here to fight, not yet at least. His area of Gotham was the closest to Bludhaven, so in a way it made sense that he was reaching to Nightwing for this.

He crossed his arms and raised his head proudly before his gaze drifted to the side, not being able to look at Dick in the eye. He bit his tongue and took a deep breath before saying what he had come here to say.

“I need your help” he blurted out, the sound of those words leaving a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He clenched his jaw still looking away, what a humbling experience, asking one of Batman's allies for help. He tried to remember what he had planned to say but at that moment it all just evaporated from his mind. He kicked the ground under him before looking up and meeting his eyes. He inhaled sharply before speaking again, as fast as he could. “There's someone getting a new drug on my side, it's… Not something I've ever seen before. I've tried to get to the root of this but it's bigger than I expected, so yeah. I need help.”

@dhampiravidi

[redjaybathood]

Mentioning killing the Joker makes me remember Joker's Last Laugh: "I hit Jason harder than that." And Dick, still lucid, kills the Joker. Could we speculate if Jason knows? What Jason would do if he found out? Because his whole issue was being forgotten; Tim was there because Bruce and Dick were going nuts, but he didn't know that

Okay, straight of the bat: I don't really like the stories where Dick - or anyone else - outright tells Jason about this, or about how Tim come to be with them, or about Bruce trying to kill Joker. It feels like no such conversation actually took place, at any point in canon, even if there would have been suitable times. But, at the same time, there's no other way, basically, for Jason to find out.

So here's a dialogue-only, everything that happened is canon, drabble, set sometime in a nebulous future where everyone is close enough for such a conversation to happen.

Warnings: some headcanons added (like re: plan for UtRH (complete and utter fanon!), re: Jason sexuality - although it's mostly Winnick's interviews), mentions of canon rape (Dick's).

Knocking shoulders.

"This is a lot to unpack, Dick. How did it feel?"

"When? When I killed Joker? Pretty shitty."

"No. When Bruce brought him back."

Rubbing face.

"... Worse. For a moment. He killed you, he killed Tim, İ thought. But in the end, that's... I'm grateful to him. I'm relieved I didn't kill Joker."

"Nice to hear it."

"Gave you something to talk about, when you two met, didn't I?"

"I guess it's fair. He didn't let me kill the Joker, but he didn't let you either. So it's not me, it's him."

"Nah, it's also you. I mean, come on. What was it about? Did you know Deathstroke is going to blow up Bludhaven?"

"How would I?.. Deathstroke tried to kill me too, you know, just a week previous. It was just, you know. Something to say. Wanted to punch him where it hurt while I could. Obviously my humble person didn't really count. Wait, how did you..."

"Watched the cowl footage, didn't I? He made both Tim and me study it. And you know, you're so full of shit, 'he didn't care about my death', yeah right."

"Oh wow. If you guys watched that... Then you saw him," wiggles his fingers.

Slides hand by the side of his neck. "That? Oh yeah. I would have thought you died, for sure, if I didn't already know you were alive, since you, you know, attacked my best friend's sister. Me and you, we're the same. Which villain monologue it came from?"

"Everyone's a critic."

"But no, for real. He was... It was an accident. He was on edge - you put him there. He would never do it..."

"Oh, like him punching you, he would never do that? Dick, please. I also watched some cowl footage. Hours and hours and hours of it."

Swings his leg. "So you did see how he was after you died. How Tim came to us, yes?"

"Alfred giving him the suit, to save Bruce? Yeah. Eventually. Needed something to pass the time when you three skipped town, leaving Batgirl to keep the house. I don't mess with her."

"Ohhhh," messing his hair. "There's someone Big Bad Red Hood is afraid of?"

"I'm sorry for her. I'm empathyzing. Her, Spoiler, Oracle, they have their own ghosts. My beef is not with them."

"But you have beef with Tim? Still? After you found out what was going on in your absence?"

"I mean, I didn't see anything worse than usual? He had those moods, you know. When he would be all grrrr, and then next time he's lecturing you on the dangers of excessive force or unethicalness of revenge murders, as if he wasn't the reason a case against serial rapist-murderer was thrown out in court. It was nothing exactly new. Not before my death, and not even after Tim joined the fun."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're talking about... The gang war?"

"Hello?" knocking on his forehead - swatted hands. "That time he let you all think he killed his ex? And then just - left the woman who was imprisoned because of him rot there? She died, I think. Didn't she die? Or my whole plan of controlling crime. It's our plan, from before I died. I had to, like, write essays on possible crime reduction tactics. Cost-benefit analysis and all that. Social value. Ethics. So on. Like a homework. We would debate, he sometimes corrected things... Of course, they weren't perfect. We didn't have free needles program back in my day, and nobody was talking about defunding police - people who promised to fund it, and strengthen the prison, were winning votes. So my perspective was limited at the time. And later, I've seen more of the world... I still chose that plan because he used that plan half a year prior and failed."

"Yeah! By our reckoning, and mind you, we were planning around the old mafia families, mostly, street-level gangs were less organized at the time... So we had to work it through the oldies. Take the right hands of the higher-ups down, then there's a chaos within the families, everyone gunning for the position of the new right hand, while also being uber-paranoid about the other families... Easy picking. And when the garden is weeded enough, Matches Malone was supposed to appear. Make them an offer they couldn't refuse. But obviously, he changed his plan later, too. His proxy would have been Orpheus, which is such a bad idea... I'm not sure how he made it as far as he had. His legend wasn't a half that of Matches. I guess he was a natural born leader. Shame what happened next."

"Bruce's plan didn't exactly go as expected. Considering nobody even knew it was happening until everyone started shooting. Long story."

"Yeah, I know that story now. Not commenting. Anyway, basically, I chose to go with it because he did it first and failed, and I was supposed to be a better Batman than Batman, you know? My execution of the plan was supposed to work. I did take out leitenants first, revealed myself right after - Black Mask already made them submit to him, so it wasn't hard for them to switch sides. No need to play long term, getting in their heads and so on. It was all working out fine but with me as a linchpin, and that linchpin suddenly went to flames..."

"Fine? Jason, I don't know how to tell you, but you killed people."

"I know I did. You're not listening, I wasn't the problem. The problem was that the whole plan was based on one person, and that's the weakest link."

Huff.

"Jason. You can't just kill people 'for the greater good'. Or 'for peace and security'. Not premeditated. If you do it in a fight, okay, not everyone is as good as me to best the foe without lethal force, or Cass, or Bruce, or Tim, or Steph, or Damian, or Duke, or..."

"Oh, shut up!" A peanut thrown.

"Admit it. Deep down you know it's kinda fascist."

Scoff. "Admit it you don't know how it is when you live on a street where gangs are everywhere, and where no gangs, it's because there's mafia, and there's no mafia, it's because there's police. And you know what? It's easier to get by when there's one gang in the area. Not like five of them, with no rules, no consideration if you're old enough to die - old enough for many things."

"You're not a King Arthur, Jason. Uniting the lands of Albion. Besides, you killed not just to get power, right? You killed to hide Intel from Bruce. And... You killed when someone dealed to kids."

"You know, first time I went back, I checked on my old friends. One of them, Max, he was such a smart kid. Wanted to go to college, become a lawyer. Get his grandma a respectable retirement. Move to a good neighborhood. And you know, he made it. Valecordian. Got his admittance letter, full ride to GCU. Died. OD."

"Jesus. Jason, I'm sorry." Hand squeezes the place where neck meets the shoulder. "But..."

"Nah. He wasn't using. It was Scarecrow. But that I found out after I started digging. They, the police, closed the case as soon as they found him in an alley with a needle in his hand. They didn't investigate. Because kids doing drugs, it's an epidemic, am I right? Especially if it's black kids. I couldn't really decide who to kill here. Crane. Or cops. All of them."

"So... You placed the ban on dealing to kids?"

"Well, if you can't drink till 21, or smoke till 18, you really shouldn't do drugs either. Of course, where's a will, there's a way. If a kid wants to use, he will buy Adderall from a schoolmate, or cook some meth with his chemistry teacher. But... I, personally, wouldn't take profit from that. My dealers wouldn't. It maybe weird it's where I draw the line. Profiting off kids. Like, I'm doing nothing to actually help them - I'm not even inspiring them like you did. Do. But at least I am not taking their money while they're killing themselves."

"But you're fine with adults?" Groan. "Your logic."

"They're adults. Sometimes... Sometimes, if the drugs is the only thing that is helping you to get through the day - or through the night... Anyway. It's different with kids. No business on kids. No kids in the business, either."

"You beat Tim up. Later, you knifed him and left him to die..."

"Come on, he is just two years younger than me..."

"And then you shot Damian."

"You saved him."

"Only with Talia's help! Which wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for anyone involved. Don't tell me it's how you planned it, or that it was okay because he is who he is."

"Well, if it's not okay, why the fuck did you let him be your Robin?" A shove.

Shove back. "So I could keep an eye on him! And I did! You were the worst that's happened to him before..."

"Before he also died. See?"

"At least it wasn't my sword in his chest. And if you are so opposed to kids in the business, what was up with Scarlet?"

"I did tell her to get out. Eventually. Gave her money and a car."

"But before that?"

"Before that I thought, shit, maybe Bruce was right. He took a chance on me, and if he didn't give up, maybe I would still be alive. So I took a chance on Sasha."

"Bullshit. First, you are alive. Don't talk about yourself like you're some kind of revenant. B, don't try to pull wool over my eyes. You were running around offering to be Robin to your Batman to basically everyone. Tim, me..."

"Okay, okay. I was lonely. I am no better than Bruce. Satisfied? I am a flaming hypocrite. And I am actually worse because I kill people, and not always for good reasons."

"There are no good reasons to kill people. 'If you are capable to do a bad thing for a good reason, what's stopping you from doing it for a bad reason?' Huh?"

"You just confessed to me to killing Joker! What does it make you, then? Who else did you kill, huh?"

Inhale. "..."

"You didn't. Dick. You did not." Crooning. "Oh no, that's good. You were lecturing me, you were telling me how relieved you were, that Joker was rescued... Who was it? Dick? Dick." Shaking his shoulder. "Shit, Dick, I'm sorry. Dick. Forget it. Dick."

Flinching away. Blinking. "No, it's fine. It's..."

"Look, you don't have to tell me. I'm sure you had a good enough reason, even if you don't feel the same. I know you, Dick. You're not like me. You... Don't have to be. Whatever happened..."

"No, it's - I didn't actually kill anyone. I just... Let it happen. I wanted it, didn't I? I didn't stop it. I didn't said stop. Or I did, but she didn't listen. I... Don't remember. Might have, might have not. If I really wanted to put a stop to it, wouldn't I?"

"Dick. Holy guilt complex Batman. You are not responsible for the actions of other people. I don't know what exactly happened... But I just told you. I know you. It's not on you. It's not. Your. Fault."

"Yeah... You don't know what happened." Turns away.

"So... Want to tell me?"

"No."

"Okay. Fair. But you talked... To someone?"

"... Bruce knows. I didn't exactly tell him. But he put some of it together. You know Bruce."

"Ha! I know he loves to reach conclusions, when it's one of us. Me, or Steph, or Cass, or Damian... Or you. I don't know what he said or did to make you look like this, but I promise it's - a load of crap. He thought I yeeted Garzonas, you know?"

"Yeeted?.. Wait, I thought you did..."

"Yeah, Tim is catching me up on a hip modern vocabulary. Well. He said that to Damian when he kicked me off the roof. But I heard him. It counts."

Sharp turn. "Damian yeeted you off off the roof? Tim encouraged it???"

"I provide perfect bonding opportunities, being a common enemy and all. First, you and Damian, now Tim and Damian. You are welcome."

"What did you do, to piss him off?"

"I confessed that I know his mother. That we were close... Intimate."

"Oh no. Oh no. I don't know what is more horrifying. That you slept with the worst woman Bruce has ever been with, or that it's Bruce's ex, or that you told their son about it!"

"He demand to explain where did I get the Kris! It's not a common toy, you know. With the inscription and all. And I was tactful! I wasn't crass! I would never disrespect her..."

Rubbing his chest. "Okay. I will bite. What's on the kris?"

"I don't know! Damian refused to translate to me. You think I stayed long enough with her to learn all dialects? Especially the ones nobody talks today in? I'm good with languages but not that good. I prioritize the ones I will find anyone to talk with."

"Okay. But how did that happen? When? Oh no, how old were you?"

"Oh, unclutch your pearls, will you? I was over eighteen. Sound of mind. Financially independent. It was so nice, I cried."

Trying not to smile. Trying, very hard, not to smile.

"You cried?"

"Yeah. I always do, when it's good. You know. Being so close to someone, so vulnerable, and being trusted with their vulnerability in return... And being told you're good when you do something right, or even better, being told what to do..."

Raised hands. "Woah! That's more details than I need, thank you!"

"You asked! And you made it sound that it's something demeaning, crying. I googled it, you know? Nothing wrong with being a crier. I, and my partners, like it better than I'm kinda just... Lying there. Like it's not happening to me."

Tilting head. "Huh?"

"You know. It's when you don't feel anything in your body. It may react, but you won't feel it, you know? It's usually hard to stop my mind from wandering. It's..."

Quietly. "It sounds like dissociation."

"Oh? You know it?" Sigh of relief. "Great. It's not weird, then."

"You googled if it's okay to cry but not this?"

"Well, I mean. I didn't know that was a thing. I thought I was just stressed. Or maybe was too quick to, you know, get to this level. Which, I know, I know, I'm me... It's not like anyone can make me... But. You know. When they come onto you, and you're friendly... Or she's your girlfriend. It's kinda... What am I, a blushing virgin from the fifties? No, let's saves ourselves for marriage? Nobody is going to stick around me that long, anyway."

Rubbing between his brows. "Somehow, this is the most concerning thing you said this evening. And we were discussing your whole killing people thing, and attacking or endangering kids."

"What? You mean, like, I'm manipulating them? Seducing them to make them spend time with me? Like, no. Okay. I never make the first move. I have literally no idea anybody is into me until they're, I dunno, kiss me under a thousands years old tree. Am I a loser? Maybe." Putting a finger up. "But I am never pressuring anyone into sex."

A laugh. Stops abruptly. "Oh. You're serious. No, come on. Look at me. Who even could... Like, okay. Deathstroke, maybe. Hmmm. Artemis. Biz. Kory. Superman. But they wouldn't do that."

"Yeah, but, Jason, don't take it a wrong way... But did it ever... Felt like you were? Pressured into it, I mean?"

"You slept with Kory? No, you slept with Slade? Superman - Clark???"

"Of course not, I was just listing who could take me in a fight. If they strike first. Wait, now you call him Slade? S L A DE Slade? First name basis? Should I be concerned?"

"This is not about me. And you know it's not always about physical advantages. It's not always a question of who is more powerful."

"Don't condescend. Of course I know. I'm just telling you. It didn't happen to me."

"Okay, but... It... Ugh... It happened to me, once. Well, twice, but the first time was completely - well, not the point. The point, sometimes they don't use force to make you do something against your will. It's..."

"... Want to tell me their names."

"No. No, I handled it, beaten up and imprisoned. Eventually. Thanks. But I did find someone to talk - about this part, at least. And... I think maybe you should, too. Look, even if there's nothing going on, at the very least there's things you can do to prevent dissociation. If you're with someone you want to be with. Isn't that good? It really helped me, at least."

"I'm glad. That you found help."

"So, you're going to try?"

"... Maybe."

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

Nothing gets me out of a sex scene between Baz and Simon faster than an Agatha name drop. 

I’m not telling anyone what to do or how to live their lives! Feel free to ignore my ass. But I decided to share this reflection I’ve kept to myself (worrying I might offend someone or coming across as an insufferable know-it-all, which isn’t my intention, sorry!) in case anyone gives a fuck or finds it useful when plotting. (I also feel the need to clarify I don’t for a second believe I get it right when I write or something. I can’t stress this enough: at no point do I know what I’m doing. My practiced ability to analyze media is where my confidence ends lol). I don’t know. Here’s a word vomit anyway: 

Bringing up Agatha without a strong reason (and I really mean strong!) related to sharing something about Simon is, in my humble opinion, completely unnecessary, and it’s not picking up on how Simon behaves around this. This thought it’s actually what lead me to figure out what that paragraph in awtbw is doing: Simon brings up Agatha when he’s deciding to have sex with Baz. Why? Because it’s telling us the difference between an unwanted experience and actually wanting. It’s telling us (quite cleverly) that with Agatha, it didn’t work. With Agatha, Simon wasn’t turned on, and he wasn’t in love. He wasn’t turned on. Look at that shit. Compelling, isn’t it? And we’re told that without Simon actually saying it, because Simon can’t think of doing shit with Agatha. He can’t. He avoids it! 

Simon turns it into something so abstract, he actually thinks past sexual partners at one point before correcting himself, in plural, which is both a pretty clinical way to think about it and shows how he’s removing the experience from Agatha (making it plural makes it harder to connect it to the one obvious person! which he avoids!) The existence of that paragraph communicates how Simon felt about it without betraying the way his minds works. This is why I think that paragraph in awtwb and find it a moodkiller in other instances, because it’s doing some serious heavy lifting (albeit somewhat subtly) in the book whereas I think certain things can be expressed without bringing her up at all in other places. Because I think it’s crucial to the way Simon’s work that he can’t think about it. He’s not at all casual or normal about this. He brings touching her up in the context of survival (SFC) or when he’s pushed by Baz’s wrong assumptions to process why he’s bothered by Baz thinking it’s something to congratulate him over, or that he was into her, or that it must have been good in some way. He can’t think “I’ve slept with her but...” or “sex was underwhelming with her” even though it’s the easiest writing choice. If it’s about saying Simon doesn’t have experience in certain sexual area, I think it makes more sense for him to just say he doesn’t have experience, rather than to say that he didn’t do those things with Agatha because 1. Simon is not an over-explainer, it’s more like him to give you small hints and leave you to fill in the gaps 2. He purposely avoids being alone in his head and bring up doing shit with Agatha 3. He avoids being direct. When he is direct, he’s not alone, and we’re not in his head.  

The only reason Simon brings up Agatha in that awtwb is because it’s about firsts. This is the first time Simon is consciously deciding to have sex (the previous time was spontaneous) and goes through with it, and he can’t help to note how different it is when you do want it. That’s a strong reason. And he can’t complete the sentence! The second Agatha’s name comes up, he’s pushing the thought away and saying it doesn’t matter. He’s unable to complete a coherent sentence about it – this isn’t an experience Simon is cool with or wants as part of his life and memories or whatever. To me, it doesn’t make any sense that Simon would be in front of vampire’s dick and bring her up to say things he could say without bringing her up, or that he would be able to complete the thought without being weirdly elusive. He wouldn’t be direct. 

And then there’s Baz. Good ol’ Bazzy-boy. I feel the need to say this: Baz isn’t actually surprised at the confirmation of them having had sex. He brings up the question in a way that assumes the answer is yes. He can put 2 and 2 together: he thought of Simon sexually and was horny for him while they were teens, so he mistakenly assumed Simon would feel the same about his gf (he says in CO that he believes Agatha is the only person Simon has ever wanted, a thought Simon corrects in WS by saying Baz is the only person he has ever wanted.) The reason Baz chokes all over rat’s blood is because, well, why wouldn’t he? I mean, yikes. But mostly: there’s a difference between assuming something is true and hearing it being confirmed. And Simon says it at the exact moment Baz is the most vulnerable (drinking) and while Baz is doing something he associated with self-loathing and shame. And I think this is on purpose, because Simon feels the same about this experience. (I have other posts about this, but I honestly don’t feel like digging for those links. I doubt anyone is still reading lol)

My point with Baz is: why would Baz think about anything Agatha did or didn’t do with Simon when he’s in front of Simon Snow’s hard cock? Why? It makes no sense, folks. The only reason he brings it up is in the interest of helping Simon understand himself (because Baz is kind! because he’s willing to get really fucking uncomfortable if he thinks it’s going to help Simon!). It’s not something Baz is going to think about on his own, unprompted, because why would he? (Why would anyone want to? The only reason the bitch speaking here keeps thinking about it is because something comes up that has me like “wait... hold up... I don’t think this is in line with the hints Simon puts down”) Especially not during sexy times with Simon? When Simon is naked, that man is busy. Simon took off his little pants and Baz was speechless. His brain (and insecurities) are not working like that, you know? 

[dendenp3]

@naviculariis asked:

The ornate wooden box was filled to the brim with small glass jars and paints, each one carefully placed and stacked. Clean brushes were tucked away within a velvet carrying case, tucked beneath his arm. A quick glance around proved that yes, everything he needed was here. An amused sigh escaped the sharpshooter as he left his quarters. The halls were quiet on the Moby Dick for once. No doubt, the other had drank themselves into a drunken stupor the night before after their success. Shaking his head, his quiet, quick steps drew him to the door at the end of the hall- Portgas D. Ace, scrawled messily into the wood.  Izou didn’t bother knocking, simply grasping the door handle and throwing the door open. A quick step in, and the door shut behind himself. His gaze made a quick sweep of the younger’s quarters curiously, taking note of some of the more personal artifacts Ace kept. How sweet. “Are you ready?” His tone held a hint of eagerness as he set the box down upon the bed, glancing over towards Ace. “Consider yourself lucky. I don’t offer my personal paints to just anyone.”

Quiet in the Moby Dick was somewhat rare, but hardly unwelcome, even for someone like Ace. He used to hate the quiet, sometimes leaving him alone with thoughts that trickle into his nightmares. But as he got older, caring for Luffy, then sailing out on his own, to finding the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace has learned to appreciate the moments of quiet he gets. Or, as quiet as you can be with a ship this big full of people. But ambient noises of other people, of loved ones, was a comfort. It meant peace, it meant everyone was safe.

His daydreaming was interrupted by his door suddenly swinging open, the slightest jump tensing his frame before immediately relaking again. From his place on his back, streched out like a lazy cat with arms behind his head, Ace watched Izou practically sweep into the room, the man ever full of elegance, even in the simplest of things, albeit sometimes with a rougher edge.

The gunman's eyes sweeped over the humble amount of items Ace had, a few souvenirs from his travels, his own wanted poster, his signature hat laying beside him, and an odd stack of his brother's wanted posters shoved haphazardly under his bed. Of course, he also had one of each time Luffy's bounty went up, it was very important! Like watching the milestones of his little brother growing up.

Rolling onto his side, Ace gives his guest a lopsided grin, amused by the older man's eagerness. "You're way more excited about this than I thought." He chuckled, finally sitting up to face the gunslinger. "Trust me, I'm surprised you even agreed, I was only curious what made you enjoy it so much. But, if it means anything, I even took a shower for the occasion." He getures to some ratty, but clean, sleep pants and fluffier hair, now washed and siginficantly less gross with sweat and grease. "You're welcome, by the way."

[relax-and-read-on]

Damn... We need the Thesis about Whore Shaped Little Pray Pray

You asked for this. I would be less horny on main if yall didn't come in my ask box to enable me.

Ok so! Aheum:

Lorgar is probably one of the most desired (sexually) person in the galaxy, and the mf don't even know it

First let's focus pre heresy. Lorgar is hot. Unbelievably hot. All primarch are fucking sex on leg, but Lorgar.... He get out of armor often. He has a smaller, less intimidating body. He has big expressive eyes. A full mouth to suck cock preach his words. When he listen to you, you feel like you are the only person in the world. He has long, beautiful hands, made for writing. His tattoo glitter in GOLD. His skin smell of warm sand. He has diples (yes this is hc, no idc). His hips are perfect handles, made to be gripped. He has a charisma almost as high as Horus. He's full of kindness, gentleness, and devotions

And he is 1000% innocent and a virgin.

You can hit on him. Flirt. Literally show up half naked. Make the most outrageous comment. And he. Will. Not. Get it. He literally doesn't see sex all around him, he's almost as innocent as a child. And that only make his sexier.

Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, has the fantasy of Lorgar on his knees, his pretty eyes open wide, as he's staring at his first hard dick. Of his blushing as he get hard. Of him being so fucking PRETTY and RESPONSIVE in bed. The details vary depending on who is daydreaming of all those salacious act, but it stay the core same: being the First to get to ruin such a sweet, pretty, innocent boy.

But now you are asking: what about after the heresy??

Well!! Now, Lorgar is at least a BIT more aware that Sex Is A Thing. Kinda hard to avoid when there are deamonettes running around and boinking your sons for sports. But still... He has somehow managed to land in the warp, as a deamon primarch... And still a virgin. It's a point of pride at this point. And it's driving every single damn slaanesh follower INSANE with wants. He's not even an incel asshole in a iron armor the size of a hummer, he's just walking around in simple robes, chest half naked, and he KNOW everyone is shaking with desire, and he just ignore it.

He's the biggest cock tease in the galaxy.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Slow Down — Hawks x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Hawks was known as “the man who’s too fast for his own good”. Unfortunately, he lived up to that title in nearly every aspect of his life. Even during sex. So when he asked for your help, you just couldn’t say no.

Warnings: NSFW. Needy!Hawks (hints of sub!Hawks AND dom!Hawks). Premature ejaculation. Edging. Orgasm denial. Masturbation. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Blowjob. Breathplay. Cumplay.

Word count: 2.6k

“You need to relax, Hawks.”

The muscles on his toned thighs quivered lightly before loosening up under your palms. Beads of sweat pooled along his brow line and heaving bare chest. His golden eyes would settle anywhere but on you.

You two had been at this for only five minutes, but doubt started brewing inside you as to whether or not he’d last much longer than this.

As the young hero visibly calmed down, you decided it was time to resume resume what you had been asked to do: help pro hero number two Hawks from busting his load too quickly.

Your fingers curled around his cock once more, gaining a hiss from him as his hips lifted from the couch.

He was extremely responsive to your every touch, and while that might do wonders to anyone’s ego, it would all be over too soon if caution wasn’t exercised.

See, Hawks would often joke around with “the man who’s too fast for his own good” title that had been given to him. But the joke would fall flat now that he had realized his performance in bed was hindered.

A few more slow tentative pumps along his cock and you saw him balling his fists.

“Hawks... you need to look at me while I do this.”

An exasperated groan. “I can’t.”

“You have to,” you insisted, rubbing your thumb across his leaking tip. “Otherwise, you won’t make much progress.”

“I’ll fucking cum if I look...” he rasped through gritted teeth.

His scarlet wings twitched momentarily as you leaned in to place a butterfly kiss on the tip, gathering a few drops of precum on your lips as you did so.

“I wanna...” Hawks’ deep voice suddenly emerged. “I wanna fuck your mouth.”

You licked your lips and tasted him for the first time in a while. In all honesty, you yourself weren’t sure of what you’d call whatever this was. Friends with benefits was an overkill, but calling him just your friend didn’t fit either.

So you remained stuck in this limbo.

“Look at me first,” you told him, tightening your grip around him. “Keigo!”

The young man’s eyes finally locked with yours at the mention of his real name, and you seized the moment to drag your tongue along the underside of his cock.

“Fuck... you’re the best at this... your tongue...” he started off well, but his eyes quickly fluttered shut as one hand reached out to grip your chin tightly.

You yanked away from his, chuckling at his failed attempt at asserting dominance. “Flattery will get you nowhere, bird boy. You were the one who asked for my help, so do as I say.”

You had gone as far as to look up a few methods to extend his endurance, and this was the one you ended up choosing for convenience purposes. Hawks could just easily drop by your place for a quick session.

And even though the extent of your sexual experience with Hawks was limited to a few making out sessions, some blowjobs, and him eating you out from time to time, you knew from the get go that this cock wouldn’t last long inside a pussy.

But it was never your issue; at least he never made it to be, until he asked for your help, since it proved to be quite damaging to his male ego.

He was growing impatient by the minute, but you didn’t waver, even tough the growing damp spot in your panties served as a reminder of how badly you wanted to heed is request and just suck him off right then and there.

“You’re a meanie,” he pouted as he glared at the hand pumping him. “Fuck...”

Your lips curled into a devious smile. “You’re doing great, pretty bird.”

Praising Hawks was definitely the way to his heart — and apparently to his dick as it twitched under your palm.

Seeing that he was enduring your touch without breaking eye contact, you brought your lips to close around the head of his cock; his hips immediately jolted upwards, catching you off guard as he let out a sigh of pure bliss once he was halfway buried inside your mouth.

You promptly raked your teeth across the sensitive skin, which had him sliding out at lightning speed.

“Are you serious?” You scolded his boldness.

A boyish smile curled his lips. “100%.”

You smacked his thigh. Hawks and his damn percentages.

“No teeth!” he then protested, his beautiful features twisted into a deep frown.

“Then behave.”

He merely nodded, eyeing you eagerly as you wrapped your lips around him once again. The hand you had on his thigh felt him tense up, but he was definitely getting better at controlling his instinctive reflexes. You decided to take it up a notch and stare directly into his eyes as your lips parted to take more of him. Just as you’d expected, he bucked his hips into you, but this time you let him set the pace.

“Deeper... you can take more than that,” he said in between moans, pressing his thumb on your chin to have you open your mouth wider to take his thick cock.

You decided to indulge him for a while, testing his limit. Slowly, you allowed him to guide you all the way down on him with thumb now caressing your skin as his other hand clasped around your nape to keep you in place.

Thankfully, your breathing was trained enough to have him balls deep and grazing your throat without taking a toll on you. Your nose grazed the base of his cock briefly, and you swallowed.

Hard.

“Fuck-fuck-fuuuck!” he growled, wrapping his fingers around your neck to feel the faint bulge; his hips rising from the couch to make sure he remained buried deep inside you.

That was your cue. You instantly had both hands on his thighs and pulled away, earning a disappointed cry from him.

“Fuck no! I was not even close!” Hhe whined childishly, his back slumping into the couch in defeat.

You arched an eyebrow, noticing a string of saliva dangling between your owner lip and his tip. “Yes, you were. Stop trying to dom me and just let me help.”

It was in his nature, you figured. He had been raised by the commission to be one step ahead and not let anyone take advantage of him, so you weren’t at all surprised that this translated to his intimate side as well. But for someone who was so used to being told what to do and taking orders, Hawks sucked at doing so even when it was in his best interest.

He huffed in annoyance, but remained silent.

You glared at his cock momentarily, not being able to keep your pussy from clenching. This man was annoyingly pretty. Even his long and hard cock was pretty, having a slight curve to it and a nice and round bulbous head. Your eyes then shifted to his full balls, and you brought your fingers to fondle each one carefully, drawing delicious moans from him.

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna suck it?”

You offered a teasing smile. “You shouldn’t make demands when I have you in my hand. Literally.”

Hawks’ eyes widened slightly. “Just let me cum.”

“You sure?”

He nodded before motioning you to shift closer with his index finger. “C’mere...”

Your panties were fully soaked by now, and as much as you wanted to resist him, it was getting harder to pull away from having him coming undone because of you.

Slowly, your tongue darted out to give his tip a short lick, but this time you let his cock slide all the way in without letting go of his balls.

He stuttered incoherently. “S-Slow... go—go... slow...”

You twirled your tongue across the protruding veins, letting his shaft reach your throat easily, strings of precum mixed with your saliva began pooling around the corners on your mouth and soon started dripping down your chin. Not wanting to go overboard, you stilled, not even daring to swallow.

His hands were gripping the edge of the couch so tightly that his knuckled were turning white; it was rather obvious that he was fighting off his impending orgasm with determination.

But as soon as you started swallowing around him, allowing your throat to ripple along his cock, Hawks’ mouth fell open in a profound growl.

“I’m... I’m gonna...” his wings were stretched all the way up to the ceiling, his long red feathers vibrating rhythmically with each roll from his hips.

Yes, he was going to.

His hips jerked in a broken rhythm as he attempted to fuck your mouth, nearing his orgasm rapidly. Once he started panting heavily and his moans became ragged, you slid off his cock.

“FUCK!” Hawks yelled in sheer frustration as his hips were left bucking against nothing but cool air.

You sat back, admiring how annoyed you’d left him yet again. It was always fun to tease him like that. He wasn’t used to not having things go his way, so you made it your mission to humble him down every once in a while.

The young hero groaned through gritted teeth, burying his face in his hands. “This is evil!”

“Deep breaths,” you chose to ignore his remark, placing your hands on his quivering thighs. “Calm down, Keigo...”

His entire body was shaking from the pent up tension. He might be a pro hero, but he was still human after all; even though he wasn’t used to being edged and overstimulated, you had to admit he was doing quite well.

Except for the strangled sobs that erupted from his throat and the few tears that slid down his flushed cheeks.

“Just... let.... me... no more....” he pleaded sheepishly, wrapping his own hand around his cock and pumping it a few times in desperation.

“Keigo... deep breaths,” you said, unhooking his fingers away from him.

He shook his head, eyes closed shut. “No... let me cum... please...”

“Hands off your cock,” you told him, placing them on the edge of the couch. “Don’t touch it. You need to cool off.”

This side of him proved to be unexpectedly alluring and empowering. Having a pro hero squirming and begging and completely desperate for release was something that you didn’t know you needed to witness.

A few long minutes rolled by.

Hawks’ breathing became more even and his beautiful face was no longer contorting from the pain of having his orgasm denied for the first time ever.

Your hands caressed his relaxed thighs with every ounce of affection you could muster. “See? You did so good, baby...”

Hawks brushed sweat-damp locks of golden hair away from his forehead, his eyes fixed on yours. “This hurts... real bad...”

His hard and veiny cock was slapped flat against his lower abdomen, precum still dripping from the tip.

“I think it’s time for you to cum,” you suggested with an understanding smile.

“You think?” Hawks chuckled sarcastically, his voice filled with annoyance.

Not wanting to summon a very angry Hawks, you massaged his sack for a few seconds, enjoying how his cock twitched with each stroke.

“Go on. Fuck my mouth.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, he lunged forward to grip his cock and have his hand grasp the back of your head.

His predatory instinct finally took over. “Open.”

You promptly complied, and he wasted no time shoving his cock inside you.

“Wider,” he grunted, forcing your chin down with his thumb. This sudden shift in his demeanor caused you to struggle to taking in all of it while trying to control your breathing through your nose.

Big mistake.

Hawks quickly caught on to what you were attempting to do, and he pinched your nose with his index finger and thumb.

“Told you,” he growled in satisfaction, watching you swallow his entire cock. “Deeper.”

Your eyes were stinging with tears from and you felt your swollen clit throb as he kept himself lodged in your throat. His other hand wrapped around your throat once again.

“Swallow.”

Your vision began to blur, but you told yourself to relax even though you struggled to breathe.

You swallowed once before he finally let go of your nose, fully enjoying how you were gasping around him and feeling his cock swelling up your neck through his fingers. You had tried breath play with him once, but this time it felt rougher an aroused you far more. He wasn’t usually this hungry, but then again you had never taunted him this much.

His hips rose at a fast pace as he fucked your mouth mercilessly, grunting and praising you. You weren’t able to keep the drool from spilling out and down your chin with each thrust.

“Touch yourself.”

You looked up in surprise, but readily slid one hand downwards and shoved it inside your panties, so you could finally relieve some of the tension that had built up in your swollen clit.

A low moan rippled through you throat as you rubbed yourself.

“Do that again... do...” he panted, completely lost in pleasure as his wings quivered around him steadily.

Sliding one finger inside your drenched pussy, you started fingering yourself, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming sensation.

“I’m gonna... fuck....”

Your other hand was gripping his thigh to keep yourself stable, and as he quickened the pace, you found out that he was defying your gag reflex.

“You gonna swallow all of it...” he grunted with a final jerk of his hips, burying himself so deep inside you that your nose was fully pressed against the base of his cock.

Tears streamed down your face as hot sprays of cum started spurting down your throat, and you struggled to keep it all down, the excess mixing up with your saliva and dripping from your mouth.

Hawks let out an animalistic growl as he emptied himself inside you, and you found yourself facing yourself with two fingers, riding after your on high as he massaged your throat.

“So pretty...” he panted, pulling his cock out and pressing your head to rest on his thigh. “Wanna cum, too?”

You nodded tiredly, feeling your spit running down the side of his thigh, but you just couldn’t help from keeping your mouth open as you gasped in pleasure.

“C’mere.” He ended up saying, helping you to get on your feet and to sit on his lap. “I’ll do that.”

He brushed his thumb across your chin to wipe off the mixture of cum and spit and brought it to his lips to taste it.

“Good?” You smiled in surprise.

He flashed you his trademark wide grin. “Amazing. Now, let me help.”

You welcomed his invitation, and lowered your head to rest on his shoulder, his hot body fully pressed against yours.

Two long fingers slipped inside your pussy and he started fingering you rapidly, making sure his palm rubbed your swollen clit. It didn’t take you long to get washed over in your own orgasm. It probably had something to do with how good he was with his fingers, but also because you had managed to edge yourself from edging him. How ironic.

Hawks planted a kiss on your forehead, enveloping both of you with his large wings. “That was quick. Maybe you need some help too, eh?”

A low chuckled rumbled in your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Keigo. It was like 70% built up tension from edging you.”

“Just 30% from my fingers?” He feigned hurt.

You paused for a few seconds. “Maybe 20%?”

“And the other 10%?”

“From my fingers,” you shot sticking out your tongue to him teasingly.

He clicked his tongue. “So my fingers are better than yours. Noted.”

“That was not what I meant!” You laughed, not at all surprised by his deduction.

“Math never lies,” he winked adoringly.

Yes. You were definitely going to stick around to help him with this.

-

Masterlist

[thevindicativevordan]

Why isn't Nightwing a bigger deal? He has all of Batman's skills and Superman's faith in humanity and is arguably the most beloved hero in the DCU, but most people seem to know him either as the leader of the N̶o̶t̶ ̶J̶L̶ Teen Ttians or just Robin.

Thank you for asking me about Nightwing, I've been wanting to write a piece about him for a while now. The short version is that everyone who claims Dick becoming Nightwing was him "moving out of Batman's shadow and becoming his own man" is completely wrong.

Dick Grayson is a fantastic character, someone who saved Bruce Wayne in-universe both by forcing Batman to grow up a bit, and the countless times he saved Batman's life as his partner whether as Robin or Nightwing. Dick saved Batman in the real world as well, hard to believe but Batman was actually in danger of being cancelled due to poor sales early on. Enter Robin, a young daredevil audience stand in the creators hoped would get kids interested in reading Batman. And it worked! Sales on Batman doubled once Robin showed up which is crazy to think about, but Dick Grayson has always been a popular character. Cartoons like Teen Titans, Batman: The Animated Series, and The Batman only helped grow his audience.

Character-wise, Dick Grayson really does fill a number of crucial roles in the DCU. For Batman, Dick is proof that Batman is a positive force. Meeting Batman helped change Dick for the better, helped him heal after his parents died. With Dick, Batman can take comfort in knowing that yes, he has made a difference in the world for at least one orphan boy, which is all he wanted when he lost his parents himself. To the wider DCU, Dick is a friendly face who convinces others that Batman is competent and not a complete asshole. He took this kid in, trained him to be one of the best heroes the DCU has seen, and did it all out of the kindness of his heart. That someone like Dick can confront the evils of Gotham and not break means there's still hope for that city. As Robin, Dick has led the Titans and is an icon in his own right as The Sidekick, the original, the one every other Robin is built around copying or contrasting. The one all other superhero sidekicks are drawing on as a basis. As Robin Dick Grayson is very much on Batman's level.

Just not as Nightwing. As Nightwing, Dick has been a second rate Daredevil which means he's a third rate Batman (fully prepared to get hate for this but I've read and enjoyed the Miller and Bendis DD runs so I feel entitled to my opinion). A typical Nightwing run tends to go like this: Moving to Bludhaven (which is Gotham... but WORSE!), Dick Grayson usually enrolls in a pointless job we don't care about in order to provide some meaningless soap opera drama that doesn't go anywhere. Patrolling the city as Nightwing, he fights a variety of bad guys who are usually rather lame and unthreatening, with his big bad being a Kingpin knockoff called Blockbuster. Villains are fought, long running plotlines are set up, then everything is abandoned because it's Batfamily event time, and Dick has to run back to Gotham in order to play sidekick again. Usually his involvement is completely superfluous and it would've been better if the writer had gotten to opt out. By the time we finally get back to Nightwing's solo plotlines, the audience has usually ceased to care and the run gets cut short.

That's how Nightwing has been since the New 52 at least. Anyone who thinks that's "becoming their own man" is out of their mind. Dick is so thoroughly in Batman's shadow that he got shot in the head and spent a longer time as "Ric" which everyone fucking hated and sold like shit, than he did as Agent Grayson which was extremely well-received. Reiterating: Ric went on longer than Grayson because of a fucking Batman plotpoint Tom King wanted where Bruce was sad and cut off from the Batfamily because of Dick getting shot. Not just calling out King either, how many times was Kyle Higgins Nightwing run derailed because of Scott Snyder's crossovers? Or how about that entire run getting dumped to the side because Johns wanted to out Dick during Forever Evil, a Justice League/Lex Luthor story? DC has repeatedly made their contempt for Nightwing clear, he's Batman's sidekick still in their eyes, and he serves whatever story role the Batman writer wants.

Hell his best stories tend to have been the ones where he's not Nightwing. He was Robin in a good chunk of the Wolfman/Perez New Teen Titans run. Morrison really showcased his depth as a character when they wrote him as Batman, their time with Dick under the cowl was actually one of the first Batman runs I ever read, and no Nightwing run has ever matched it in terms of quality in my humble opinion. Scott Snyder's work with DickBats also was a high point for the character, showing Dick as competent and examining his relationship with Gotham and the Gordons. King and Seeley gave him one of the best comic runs with Grayson, a series where he wasn't even a "superhero" technically! When it comes to actual pre-New 52 Nightwing runs that are highly recommended where he *is* Nightwing, there's Chuck Dixon and uhhhhhhh... Tomasi's brief run before Dick became Batman? It's not exactly an overwhelming list.

Look there has been good work done with Nightwing, I'm not claiming there hasn't been. Tim Seeley wrote a great run with Nightwing Rebirth. Seeley fleshed out Dick's Rogues Gallery with cool new ones like Raptor, he brought back old foes like Dr. Hurt (why oh why couldn't you have brought back Flamingo too?), he gave Dick's world some character it solely needed. Bludhaven under Seeley is pretty much the only time I've really felt like it lived up to being Dick's city.

The problem with fictional cities is you have to put in the work to give them the character of real cities. You have to make the cities feel like characters in their own right. Gotham is the best example of this, it's a character all it's own, one that tells you a lot about Batman and his cast. In contrast Bludhaven is usually one of the worst. Any place that wants to claim to be worse than the city that is built over the gate to hell and gets wrecked every other month by the Arkham freaks has to really put in the work to compete. Simply put, Bludhaven typically fails utterly. There's nothing about it that makes you really buy it's worse than Gotham, I mean does anyone really think Nightwing's Rogues wouldn't get their lunches eaten by Batman's? No, no one genuinely buys that. When Bludhaven claims to be worse, it just comes across as tryhard, an attribute that does end up telling you about Nightwing in unintentional ways.

So Seeley didn't do that. Instead he created a city built for a hero like Dick Grayson. Someone who is bright and flashy, but does have an element of darkness to him. Someone who loves the spotlight, but often uses it to obscure. Seeley turned Bludhaven into Las Vegas, and that was the fucking best concept for Bludhaven I have ever seen, it makes so much sense. Las Vegas is the "Entertainment Capital of the World" and isn't that the perfect city for a hero who got their start working in the circus? Isn't the aesthetics of the gleaming casinos, the glamorous sex appeal of the performers, and the spectacle of the shows, all being used to cover up the seediness of mob bosses meeting backstage perfect for Nightwing? It's so utterly unlike New York City, yet Las Vegas is still dangerous, it's got a crime culture all it's own. Seeley used it to great effect, as did Humphries during his brief run, and I will always be pissed that DC didn't continue to use it. That should have stuck around and been the definitive look for Bludhaven.

How Seeley's take on Bludhaven was treated feels like a small scale version of how Nightwing in general gets treated. Whenever creators pitched ideas for him, if editorial thought there was potential to break big, they asked for those ideas to be repurposed for Batman instead. Anything big or good gets repurposed for Batman or tossed to the side so Nightwing can go back to his default: having irrelevant adventures in a city that is supposedly worse than Gotham but can't live up to it. Just like how Nightwing is supposedly better than Batman but never gets to show it. Goddamn it's so frustrating seeing his potential get wasted like that.

The Nightwing book should be one of DC's most ambitious books in terms of storytelling. You can go from traditional superhero stories, to romantic soap opera, to spy stories, to crime noir, to horror, to cosmic adventures, and ALL of them would fit because Nightwing is someone who has a foot in both Gotham and Metropolis. He's got friends everywhere on every team, and has been a hero longer than most Leaguers have at this point. No reason DC should still be afraid to let him loose and insisting on hewing close to what Dixon established almost over 30 years ago is only holding him back. At the very least get him some better Rogues, why the hell didn't he get to keep Professor Pyg? That's Dick's villain not Bruce's! Bullshit that they didn't let Dick keep him. Hopefully Flamingo comes back, with a slight revamp I think he'd make a great reoccurring Nightwing Rogue.

Luckily it does look somewhat like Nightwing fans have reason to be optimistic. While Taylor isn't to my taste, DC clearly views him as a "big" writer, and that they put him on Nightwing says a lot. Taylor has been selling well so far, so hopefully he gets to tell his story, hilarious that even he lampshaded having to write Dick running over to Gotham for another tie-in after Taylor's big opening arc was all about Dick committing himself and his money to Bludhaven. Scott Snyder is apparently working on a Black Label Nightwing book which will explore how he's a different detective than Bruce. The Gotham Knights video game has him as one of the main stars, and while Titans is... controversial, it's one of the most popular streaming shows and Dick is the main character. There's a lot of content coming that features him in the starring role, and that will only help his star rise further.

For the first time in, well, ever it feels like DC may be serious about elevating him. Time will tell if it pays off, but I for one choose to be optimistic that the 2020s will be a turning point for Dick Grayson where Nightwing becomes hugely popular in his own right. Not just as Batman's sidekick.

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

[btsbling]

— Vanilla Mornings — jjk

☁️ pairing: Jungkook x Fem!reader

☁️ genre: Fluff, Marriage!au

☁️ summary: mornings with him in your cozy, humble abode

☁️ warnings: smut, vanilla sex sort of?, unprotected sex (stay safe!), eating out

☁️ w/c: 1.45k

©️Btsbling (Except for the fanfiction, i do not own BTS or any members)

The bright early rays of sunshine washed into the room, painting it with a beautiful palette of amber gradients.

Steady heartbeats made your eyes slowly open, getting used to the early morning. Jungkook’s muscled arm lazily draped across your waist as he was still deep in dreamland. 

You smiled, the warm feeling of pure love and tranquility made you want to stay in this moment for the rest of my days.

In the warm arms of your lover.

Looking out the window, the sun greeted you as a new day dawned. 

It was...Magnificent. 

You snuggled closer to Jungkook, taking a whiff of his vanilla scent that he regularly uses. Everything was perfect.

Outside, the trees began to sway slightly as they welcomed the soft breeze. There were hardly anyone in sight. 

It felt like you were living in a world where there was only you and him. 

You shifted to stare at him, a smile gracing your face as you silently watched him sleep. Till this day, you still couldn’t believe that this man, in all his glory, was yours.

You never thought that you could be this lucky, and truthfully you didn’t deserve him. But that wouldn’t stop you from loving this man with your whole heart, heck you would take a bullet for him.

You knew fully well that he would do the same for you. 

You lifted your arm, hands softly brushing his hair away from his fringe, the silver ring gleamed from your fingers. Memories of the previous night making you flush slightly but smile in happiness. 

You remembered Jungkook’s gentle yet desperate hands removing your wedding dress, moaning as he took off every piece of clothing while looking into your eyes.

He treated you like the queen you were, and his words made you feel another level of pride and confidence.

You remembered the way he held you tight, whispering sweet-nothings into your ear as he thrusted into you.

The way he appreciated you with his tongue, his hands and the way he made you feel like you were in a world of pure ecstacy. 

You held up his hand in yours, interwinding them together as his finger dawned the similar wedding band as yours. 

As of yesterday, you were officially his wife, his Mrs Jeon. 

Jungkook awoke to you pressing light and feathery kisses on his neck. You were wearing his large shirt that made you look super delicious as you sat on top of him, attempting to wake him up. 

“Honey, wake up” You whispered cutely in his ear. Jungkook held you tight before shifting positions with you till you were lying under him, giggling as he whined in your neck. 

“don wanna baby, you’re so warm. So freaking nice” he mumbled. You let out a big chuckle and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as your laughter passed as beautiful melodies in his ears.

Jungkook hugged you impossibly tighter as you let out a groan, “Kookie you’re crushing me--” He loosened his hold you, resting on his elbows, staring down at his love. 

Even in the early hours of the day, you were still as beautiful, maybe even more radiant than you looked, the first time he saw you. Memories flashed through his mind, going through the two years you had spent together and now he had the blessing to be able to spend the rest of his life with you by his side. 

Your hands touched his cheeks, bringing him back from his unconscious daze. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked him softly, with a gentle smile. “How much i freaking love this absolute goddess right in front of me” he said, lowering his head to kiss your neck, where he new you were the most sensitive.

You moaned in response, arching your neck, giving him more access to your sensitive skin. “I’m so..freaking...lucky to have you baby” he said, pausing in between to kiss you at another spot.

“and now, i’m yours and you’re all mine” Jungkook said, raising his head to look at you once more. You teared a little, not used to someone openly complimenting you and worshiping you.

Although last night’s episode was another re run of Jungkook worshipping you non-stop, you had to admit you were slightly tipsy. But now, it was so clear to you.

The absolute adoration and immense amount of love for you that filled his eyes, it made your heart skip faster. Even after years of being with this man, he still made your pulse race and made butterflies pool in your stomach.

You pulled him down, to meet his soft lips. His hands ran down the sides of your body, without missing a single spot as he angled his face to deepen the kiss.

Jungkook sat up, his sweatpants low on his hips, and his abs full on displayed. You ran your hands, feeling the hard muscle of his chiseled body, making him groan, taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it.

“My princess”

In slight desperation, he pulled off his oversized shirt of you, blindly throwing it to the ground. He slowly maneuvered his way downwards, sucking and lightly nipping at your erect nipples that glistened with his saliva. He sucked on your right nipple, making you moan out his name, “j-jungkook” while he massaged the other.

“It’s alright baby, wanna hear your voice” he said as he let go of your nipple with a pop. His fingers lightly trailed the lips of your pussy, as you curved your back, desperately trying to meet his fingers.

“P-please” Jungkook smirked at you, before holding your thighs in place and moving down, leaving trails of hickeys down the inner side of your thigh, before he licked your pussy.

“aa-ahh” you moaned out loudly. “More, jungkook p-please” you pleaded, your hands wrapping tightly around his hair, as his face was stuffed between your legs.

“so fking wet for me baby? Such a naughty girl” he taunted before licking your pussy again. He carried on with this action, going faster at times and slower at others.

Nearing your orgasm, he quickly sped up. “J-jungkook yes yes! please i’m cumming” you practically screamed out. But jungkook lifted his head, smirking at you.

His face glistened with your juice, but your chest heaved up and down. Jungkook denied your orgasm, leaving you unsettled and wanting more, you swore you were almost going to cry without having the feeling of release.

Jungkook wiped off your juices with his fingers and sucking on them in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna cum with you, my love” he cooed, kissing you on the lips before taking his erect cock that leaked of precum from his sweatpants.

Lining it up to your entrance, he teased you, sliding his dick up and down through your folds and only entering his head before quickly pulling it out.

This made you whine and beg, “p-please jungkook, i need your c-cock. Please” and he couldn’t take it anymore. Entering you in one swift thrust, making you moan out in satisfaction of being stretched out.

Jungkook let you relax, before he slowly thrusted into you. He was slow and gentle this morning, knowing you were still sensitive from last night. He whispered his love for you as he thrusted into your tight pussy.

“i love you so much darling” he groaned out as he thrusted particularly deeper.

You left hickeys on his neck as he snuggled into your neck at times, leaving his cock to warm in your pussy.

As he started to gain more momentum, his thrusts became harder and more erratic. Skin slaps filled the room and the bed stand knocked on the wall slightly, moans and groans filled the walls.

“i’m cumming, cum with me baby, cum with me” Jungkook said breathlessly. You came with his words, clenching down and making him cum as well. Thick spurts of his cum filled your walls as he collapsed onto you but making sure you weren’t completely crushed.

As he took out his cock, white cream leaked out from your hole, and dripped down your legs, making him grin at the sight.

Jungkook prepared a warm towel for you and helped you clean up before throwing his hoodie on you and carrying you on his lap.

He snuggled into the side of your neck, loving the smell of your body wash. his big hands covered yours and he glanced down at the wedding bands, smiling. He loved the way it looked on you.

“Good morning, Mrs jeon” he whispered to you, capturing your lips once more, as the sun rose to greet the both of you.

Please leave some comments/feedback!

[oumaheroes]

Congrats on 100+ followers, you deserve it! I love your blog and writing! For the writing-promp, how about some outsider pov fruk?

Reflections

Word Count: 1690

Characters: England, France - FrUK, America, Canada

----

‘It’ll be fun!’

‘No, it won’t.’

‘Yes it will,’ America insists, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen. England’s face through the webcam is decidedly unimpressed.

‘I don’t like house parties,’ he says, but America can hear slight resignation already there in his voice and so pushes again to seal the deal.

‘Please? Come on man, it’ll be great. Right after the G20 meeting in Texas too so there’s no work to worry about; just stay one more day for it. And hey, if you don’t like it you can leave.’

England raises an eyebrow, ‘You invited me to stay withyou.’

America shrugs, unbothered, ‘Then don’t! Or, do- whatever. It’s up to you.’

England sighs and looks conflicted. America seizes the opportunity and goes in for the kill, ‘Everyone else will be there too; you don’t wanna get FOMO.’

‘I don’t get FOMO,’ England snaps, looking affronted, and America instantly knows he’s won, ‘But fine, if it means that much to you, I’ll come.’

America tries to school his face into something that doesn’t look too triumphant, ‘Awesome! Kay, so it’ll be casual, no need to dress up or be all fancy or anything.’

‘Yes yes,’ England waves a hand dismissively and shifts in his chair, ‘I know how a house party works. I do go to some, you know.’

‘Cool cool cool, just making sure.’ America can’t really picture England at the sort of house party he is thinking of, people lounging about on furniture and playing silly drinking games. But it must happen, he supposes- he’s seen England drunk in pubs before and he’s boisterous so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine him in an even more casual setting.

Suddenly, America notes the darkness of England’s surroundings and checks the clock in the bottom corner of his screen, ‘Hey, it’s getting pretty late for you over there, isn’t it? I should let you go.’

England glances at his wrist, entirely ignoring the PC he’s using, ‘Yes, I suppose so. Okay, likely I’ll see you next month then.’

‘No backsies, you said yes,’ America reminds him.

England rolls his eyes, ‘I meant that I won’t see you until then, I already said I was coming; I’ll come.’

‘Good!’ America moves his mouse to end the call, ‘See you there, old man. Try to be fun.’

‘What is that supposed to-‘

‘Bye!’

----

Canada glances about the room and nods, ‘It’s not bad.’

America reels back, ‘Not bad? Dude-‘ he gestures to the living room they’re in the doorway of and then to the pool outside, both places spilling over with nations chatting and enjoying themselves under the beat of the music, ‘-it’s more than not bad!’

It really was, in his humble opinion, probably one of his best in recent years. Nearly everyone had turned up who said they were going to and there had been a steady flow of conversation and dancing all night. America had scoped the place out every now and again, making rounds through the house to make sure there were no stragglers sitting somewhere on their own but there wasn’t a need for it- things had run smoothly without him needing to intervene and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. This is why he liked house parties, more than any other type of ‘function’. House parties had a more relaxed vibe, where no one felt the need to impress or do themselves up too much (unless you were one of the older ones, that is; it seemed that no matter what you told them they’d still arrive a bit more formally dressed than everyone else, as if they had some sort of inbuilt compulsion).

Things going so well was probably helped, too, by the fact that America had only invited friends and family. One, because inviting the entire world and putting them in one place anywhere would always result in some form of argument, but also because this was his house and he didn’t want it to get trashed, (regardless of what England had groused when he first arrived and had seen the condition of the place).

Canada shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, ‘I’ve been to better.’

America frowns, disappointed, before jostling his arm playfully when he notices the small, guilty shift of Canada’s eye, ‘Stop messing with me.’

Canada grins behind his cup and nudges him back, ‘Well, no one’s dead yet. That’s always good.’

‘Amen to that,’ America raises his glass in a toast which Canada meets and downs the rest of his drink, ‘Want a refill?’

‘Sure.’

‘Come on then, I ain’t your servant.’

Canada gives him a flat look but wordlessly follows America out of the living room and through to the kitchen. Australia’s there with Mexico, digging about in the lower cupboards for something and Denmark is showing Japan a video on his phone that’s making Japan’s eyes go almost unnaturally wide.

‘Alfred mate, what happened to those Tim Tams you promised me?’ Australia stands up from his crouch on the floor and looks at America reproachfully, ‘I feel swindled.’

America opens his mouth to speak but Canada cuts in first, ‘I hid them.’

America turns to him in confusion, ‘Why?’

‘Zea asked me to, seeing as they couldn’t come. Something about what you did to them at Christmas?’

Australia throws up his hands and scoffs, ‘Jesus fuck, when will they get over that. Where are did you put them? Come on, don’t be a dick, I promised Mexico some.’

Mexico shrugs delicately, ‘I don’t really care, to be honest. I just heard they were bad and wanted to see how bad.’

Australia looks down at her scandalised, ‘Who told you that?!’

She readjusts to sit properly on the floor, ‘People.’

‘Yeah, sorry, I’ll get them.’ Canada’s job has been carried out to the minimum requirement and America knows that he’s happy that he can now take himself out of the silly argument New Zealand and Australia have slyly pulled him into. He goes out of the kitchen, leaving his empty cup behind, and America follows him curiously through the hallway in the direction of the study.

‘What did Australia do to Zea at Christmas?’ America has missed out on England’s most recent yearly family function; he’d wanted to go surfing with Hawaii instead.

‘Don’t ask,’ Canada says tiredly, the air of an older sibling who had seen far too much. America is offended Canada hasn’t told him already. He opens his mouth to say as much when Canada goes to open the slightly ajar study door before stopping abruptly in the doorway, causing America to almost crash into him.

‘Hey, what-‘ Canada hurriedly squeezes America’s arm and tugs him sharply away in a warning for quiet, catching his eye before glancing into the room meaningfully. America peers around him into the study, wondering what he’s seen.

At first, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be looking at; it looks empty. The main study light is off, leaving the room lit only by one table lamp by the sofa that casts a warm, buttery glow about the place, softening the corners with shadows. He looks to Canada for help and Canada tilts his head in the direction of the French doors, eyebrows raised.

America follows his gaze and understands. The darkness outside has turned the glass to mirrors, reflecting the front of the old sofa that America could previously only see the back of. On it are England and France, curled up together with France’s head on England’s chest and England propped against the armrest, one knee brought up high for him to rest an elbow on. He has his other hand in France’s hair and is gently running his fingers through it, long languid strokes that feel entirely too intimate for America to process.

It’s a strange thing for him to see. He has accidentally caught England and France doing other things throughout his life but intimacy isn’t really something they display. They argue. They bicker. They fight and scream and laugh, sometimes, but they do not do this in front of other people, this gentleness. Neither of the two are what anyone could ever consider gentle, even France, for all his intentional touches and flirtations -the soft ghost of his hand on a shoulder or resting warm around a waist- are not this, not personal. France is very free with his physical affections but they are shallow things, meaningless and ordinary. There is something removed and detached about how he moves amongst crowds, gathering himself close about someone to brush against them as he stands that speaks of friendliness yes, but not closeness. Nothing special to note.

But here, curled on a sofa and unaware they are being watched, there are no guards up or cold pretences between them, just a natural, domestic openness that America finds oddly normal, for how little he has seen glimpses of it. England and France together are many things, have experienced every extreme and mundane state possible for two people to experience, and this side of them is just another shade, as hard as it is to find.

France tips his head back more and opens his eyes, crinkling their corners as he murmurs something low under the muted music that causes England’s lips to twitch into a rare, open smile. They could be anyone then, just two people on a sofa, young and mellow, and for a split-second America can’t see them as anything else. The warm mood hides their identity and blurs their age- familiar strangers tucked away on their own.

America jumps, startled, when Canada nudges him, an elbow into his side and he turns to find his brother gesturing with his head back into the hallway.

He agrees. America knows both England and France would be mortified to be caught like this, boneless and out of character around the person they often so openly despise, so it’s best to leave them as they are undisturbed.

Australia can wait, America will squeeze the truth out of Canada about Christmas and maybe take Zea’s side just for fun.

----

AN:

Sorry for the wait anon, but I hope you see this and I hope that you like! Thanks for the ask and for your kind words, this was a lovely prompt and I really liked thinking about how I could do this justice ;u;

<3

[addawithbalmiki]

five people who taught sakura

Summary: Sakura Haruno chose to be a legendary kunoichi with the skills she cajoled a few people into teaching her. A series in five parts where we see what she took from whom.

Part I – Kakashi

(...)

Kakashi was a failure, and he knew that more than anyone else in the world.

Sitting under a tree, he perused his book while he kept an eye on his Genin students. They were bickering, as usual, a trio of chirping birds. Normally, he would go and sit with them, bask in the liveliness offered only by children who have not seen war.

Normal were those days when he had more than two hours of sleep. When his nightmares didn’t keep him awake all night. 

He kept the book in front of him, pretending to be into the story he read ten times at least. Make-Out Paradise was a good distraction – it was unrealistic, sappy and pretentious – everything he needed to ignore the bad nights and exhausting days.

But he dreamt about Rin the night before. And nightmares about Rin were a lot different than his other nightmares.

“FINE! IF I CAN HIT A HUNDRED TARGETS WITH MY SHURIKEN, YOU’LL TREAT ME TO RAMEN!” He looked up to see Naruto jabbing his finger at an unimpressed Sasuke. Kakashi swallowed. Resplendent in orange and bristling with a rage only an Uzumaki could possess, Naruto shouldn’t look so much like his father. Kakashi was good at separating his dead sensei from his rambunctious student, but dreaming about a smiling Rin with a bleeding heart was affecting his judgment today.

Sasuke was a tad better to look at; he was looking more and more like Itachi as days passed, but their temperament couldn’t be more different. Sasuke was a mass of arrogance, rudeness and a case of undiagnosed self-loathing. Itachi was confident yet humble, polite and easy with his smiles. Though Sasuke might have been a different boy when his brother was still his brother and not a kinslayer. Kakashi remembered Itachi's softening expression upon spotting his brother. In return, Sasuke used to smile – a wide grin and starry eyes that didn't hide his affection.

How tragic to be betrayed by the one person you loved the most. 

Sasuke at least didn’t personally have any connection to Kakashi’s ghosts. It was hard enough to be a teacher to a boy whose path was set the moment he stepped on his parents’ blood and gazed upon his treacherous brother. Kakashi didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if Sasuke was related to someone Kakashi cared about deeply.

“Tch,” Sasuke scoffed, his trademark scowl on his face. “A challenge that you will undoubtedly fail at.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Naruto clenched his fist and glared at his teammate. Kakashi sighed; it was a harmless dick-measuring conversation so there was no need for any alarm. Let the boys be boys. Also, if he got tensed every time they had a spat, his already white hair would fall off.

Naruto pointed his finger towards the nearby mountains. “Fine! Let’s fight over there! If I win, you give me your shuriken set – the brand new one you hoard like a miser. If you win, you get my savings for the month. How about that, asshole!”

Sasuke remained impassive, but his scowl disappeared. Instead, he looked thoughtful. Sasuke was particular about money and no doubt he was already calculating how much he’d save if he won.

After thinking for some time, he nodded. “Fine. Let’s head there. Any jutsu will work. The first person to break a bone, loses.” He smirked then, haughtiness and suppressed excitement filling his eyes. “Don’t go crying to Sakura when you lose.”

“YOU LITTLE –”

“Guys, we’re in the middle of a mission. Do you have to be so combative right now?” 

The third member of team 7. Sakura Haruno, the resident peacekeeper.

“Can’t. He started it.”

“I need to kick his arrogant ass, Sakura! For the good of society!”

The two boys replied. Nodding at each other, they took off, sniping at each other like old biddies.

Sakura threw her hands up and sat down on one of the logs. “Fine! See if I care!” She fixed Kakashi with a glare. “You let them get away with too much, Kakashi-sensei.”

Kakashi closed his book. He shoved it into his pocket. Standing up, he made his way to the logs they’d moved to rest on, a break before returning from guard duty from the outskirts of Land of Fire. Sakura continued to pout even when he sat beside her.

“Now, now,” he smiled, “there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of competition. It’s healthy.”

Sakura usually loved reassurances. There was an air of innocence and an almost blinding trust in seniors around and in her. Maybe civilians were like that – so far removed from the realities of war they were ready to put faith in anyone wearing a Leaf headband. Kakashi was unsure whether he should envy or coddle her.

This time, though, she didn’t let his platitudes comfort her.

“They will hurt each other,” she insisted. “I have a rivalry with Ino too, but we’re friends. We may fight and argue, but at the end of the day, I respect her. Naruto and Sasuke use each other as stepping stones. What happens when the camaraderie ends and the real fighting begins?”

Oh Sakura, Kakashi thought, his throat closing up with emotion born from wonder at the little girl. Times like these made him wonder whether he should close the gap he willingly put in between them. Maybe be a proper sensei for once.

Kakashi was aware of how he neglected her. He was also aware of how much better she could be if he helped her. Sakura was intelligent, curious and a clear thinker albeit sometimes too emotional. Nothing that might hinder a mission. She would shape up to be a great kunoichi one day.

He remembered the day he was assigned to Team 7.

“You’re making a mistake. I will be a horrible teacher to them.” Kakashi trembled with emotion. Whether with anger or fear was not decipherable.

The Hokage didn't bat an eyelid. Smoking a pipe, he flipped through a few pages he was reading as he nonchalantly announced the new assignment. Kakashi wanted to smack him with the pipe.

“Naruto is not only the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails but also Minato Namikaze’s son.” Lord Hokage fixed him with a firm look. “He’s too young to understand his heritage and legacy. Who better to guide him than his father’s student? Minato would have wanted it too. He cared for you after all.”

Stop, Kakashi thought as his fists clenched. Minato-sensei would have understood. He always did, much better than you.

He didn’t say it out loud.

Instead, he tried to argue from other points. “Then what about Sasuke Uchiha? And Sakura Haruno? One is the descendant of one of the bloodiest massacres in Hidden Leaf history, a deed done by his own blood. The other is a civilian child playing at being a shinobi. This team will be dysfunctional at best and dangerous at worst.”

Something passed through Lord Third’s eyes when he mentioned Sasuke. His eyes turned a bit sad. For what? Probably another recrimination for not being able to save a young boy from such a tragedy. It passed too quickly for Kakashi to draw any conclusion.

“Kakashi,” Lord Third began gently. “A Sharingan is always necessary when put together with a jinchūriki. He’s the only one the village has who might, through intense training and hard work, be able to control the Nine-Tails lest disaster befalls or history repeats itself. As for the girl…” He took a long puff from his pipe. “She interests me. A civilian child with no shinobi background, not a single clan association and yet she beat even an Uchiha in written tests. Obito," Kakashi grimaced, "and a couple of other Uchiha weren't great at academics. But most have been. Especially Sasuke who has a frightening will. Her memory is faultless to the point of being uncanny.”

“And the rest?” Kakashi pressed, determined to save a young, defenceless child from a future destined to fail her. “Written tests don’t have real-world applications. A civilian born shinobi is either stuck at Chūnin level or likely to drop out upon facing the battlefield. If they don't die first, that is.”

“I agree,” Lord Hokage admitted. “As per my reports, she’s horrible at bukijutsu and taijutsu, and her ninjutsu is weak. But she’s a natural at genjutsu, talented enough to become a great genjutsu specialist if she keeps at it. If she learns how to resist a Sharingan and cast a genjutsu strong enough to confuse the Nine-Tails, she will be an asset to the village.”

A weapon of the village's choice. A civilian who wouldn't understand anything about clans or the true shinobi life. 

And Kakashi, after having a heated argument with the Hokage, was left in charge of a little girl he had nothing in common with.

Sakura was a tough child to understand. Sasuke was the easiest because he carried around a sign on his head saying ‘REVENGE’ and was devoid of anything else. Naruto wanted to stop being an outcast and the only way to do that was becoming the Hokage. Their goals were simple to understand although difficult to attain.

Sakura… Sakura was complicated.

She told him she wanted to marry her surly teammate hell-bent on revenge and have kids. And that should have been that. She might have been one of those people who craved the romantic notion of love found in novels. But still, she pushed herself harder than most – she read an insane amount, gathered things to make their journeys simple, and was so quick at picking up a mundane skill Kakashi almost had whiplash.

Unlike Sasuke and Naruto, Sakura didn’t thrive because of a certain goal. She didn’t want to achieve anything. She also didn’t have to resolve her past. Sakura just wanted to spend time with people and make their lives easier, whether by learning how to knit or stab.

And because of her admiring compassion and resilience, Kakashi always got tempted to teach her something. When he saw how she made a clean – almost surgical – suture, he wondered how she would use ninjutsu if he taught her. When she spotted things better than any normal shinobi, he itched to train his Sharingan on her and teach her to break out of the genjutsu.

And each time he took a step closer to actually, for once being a teacher to her, Rin’s face flashed in front of his eyes and he remained stuck in his position until the moment passed.

It was unfair to compare a dead girl to a living one, but Kakashi wasn’t a saint.

Rin died to save the village. She was capable of medical ninjutsu and she couldn’t save her own life. She knew the Uchiha’s fire techniques, and yet she couldn’t burn her enemies down. She was fast, brilliant and ruthlessly kind. And she was still another corpse, decomposing in the graveyard. 

Little girls don’t belong on battlefields. Kakashi sometimes froze with fear when he envisioned bright, sweet and kind Sakura lying dead in a warzone while everyone she saved gathered around her to pay respects. They did that with Rin. He hated them for living while their healer died to save their worthless lives.

He wouldn’t be able to go on if any of his students were killed, least of all if it was Sakura because she was the one who deserved her happy ending the most. He did that with his father, sensei and teammates, and each time the period of grieving increased until he was alternating between dying and wanting to die. He wouldn't be able to do it another time, especially if it was a child who did nothing wrong except loved people who would bring her to her doom.

So, Kakashi didn’t teach her anything even when she turned her wordless accusations at him. Even when she looked hurt and pursed her lips to stop herself from being a brat and asking for training. Kakashi would be caught between relief and disappointment when she lost her resolve and left him alone.

Why, her green, expressive eyes screamed the words she couldn’t. Why don’t you teach me anything? Why am I not good enough?

Kakashi always turned around. He would rather be hated than forced to visit another grave.

He was being immature and illogical about it. He knew that. But he could not shake his fears off as easily as Guy did. Guy was much better than him. He wasn't scum.

However, looking at a worried Sakura now, he remembered his nightmare. Shinobi died if they lacked training too. He might save Sakura from the front lines, but there was a chance she might become a casualty at the first wave.

Maybe I should teach her something useful for fleeing, he decided. Something that’ll allow her to detect an enemy and run.

Suddenly, he realized what he needed to do.

“Hmm, Sakura?”

“Yes, sensei?” She mumbled, still unhappy with his decision to not interfere with the boys’ petty rivalry.

“Do you remember what I told you about chakra control?” Kakashi was still shocked at seeing her perfect chakra control. It was unheard of to see a fledgling manage to not stumble at all. How did she manage to go to the top on the first try? Her balance was immaculate and professional to the point she looked like she was already a master at it.

Sakura frowned. Tapping her face with her finger, she pondered. After several seconds, she nodded. “Yes, sensei. I remember everything you taught me and a couple of things I read in a few books.”

A few books, Kakashi raised his eyebrow fondly. More like an entire shelf, no doubt.

He asked, his voice as casual as he could make it, “Do you want to learn more about chakra control? Since those two are away for a while and you have a great chakra control, you would master it in no time.”

Sakura blinked, her face going slack with wonder.

“Really?” She asked.

He nodded and smiled his usual close-eyed smile. A huge grin broke out over her face. Her eyes became teary, and she looked seconds away from hugging him.

She didn’t, though. “Yes! I would love to! What should we start with? Is it chakra moulding? Or the advanced form of chakra manipulation? Or —”

“How about,” he interrupted, “we start with something simple as walking on water?”

Sasuke and Naruto returned an hour later, their bodies full of scratches and chakra depleted, with no clear winner between them. They looked ready to drop to the floor and call it a night. They paused when they noticed Sakura standing on top of a barrel full of water, her eyes trained on the branch above her.

“Is she —” Sasuke started.

“— standing on water?” Naruto finished, his eyes going wide. He shared a look of disbelief with Sasuke.

“Shh.” Kakashi sidled up to them, his gaze not wavering from Sakura. “Just watch.” He cleared his throat and spoke loudly. “Now, Sakura.”

Like a bird taking flight for the first time, like a fish slipping away from a person’s hands, Sakura jumped with grace. Not making a single ripple on the water surface, she rotated her body. Her feet attached themselves to the branch without making it move.

Kakashi felt his heart nearly burst with pride.

“Perfect, Sakura,” he called out in his lazy drawl. He noticed the boys’ dropped jaws from the corner of his eye.

Sakura opened her eyes and smiled. “I did it, Kakashi-sensei! I can walk on water now and jump to any heights!” Pumping her fist, she shouted, “Cha!”

Kakashi hummed, his approval unrestrained at the sight of her beaming face. He would teach her some of the basics of chakra manipulation and detection, enough to push her towards some sensory jutsu. Chakra control will also help her in genjutsu.

He could keep her alive like this. He could succeed in at least one promise.

Never again, Rin, he promised his dead friend as he watched Sakura run towards her teammates. Not another death I could have prevented.

[bigskydreaming]

If you were editor of Nightwing's book ever since at least the start of Rebirth to today and you were given free reign, what would your story mandates?

Oh no, this is dangerous. LOL. Hmm, I have no idea what to shoot for here, so I'll try to keep it to ten. That's reasonable right? Ten is good. Yeah. Is fine.

Okay, so, in no particular order:

1) Let Dick be competent 101. None of this him having to play hype man for every other character to pop up in HIS title bullshit. Nope. That's not what they're there for. He's the lead man, LET HIM BE THE LEADING MAN. Like sure, everyone has their areas of expertise, he doesn't need or have to be the best at everything, blah blah blah.....but its about the nuance. All of that is kinda lip service because the thing is, you don't go into MOST comic books and NEED to be reminded of that because the lead characters of those books are all constantly getting saved or shown up or chastised by every guest star in their books, you know? This is a very weird, very niche phenomenon very specific to Dick's character, and I'm super over it. I'm here to read about the guy who has literally been doing this longer than most superheroes twice his age. The guy who's been doing this since before he hit double digits. The born acrobat. The destined ultimate warrior or whatever of Gotham's Ornithological Society Of Murder and Pretentiousness. Gimme that guy. And that guy doesn't need to be 'humbled' every other page, because the thing is, he's not some egomaniac to begin with so the everpresent need to humble him doesn't actually come off as humbling! It just comes off as pandering and not even to actual fans of the actual character, so its like.....wyd DC.

2) Let other people take responsibility for their own crap with Dick rather than always just expecting a mea culpa from him. I'm so unbelievably tired of the words I'm sorry from Dick. I love personal accountability, so I never thought I'd have to say this about a character, but enoooooough. They have made it completely in character for this dude to apologize to everyone ELSE for being brainwashed, getting amnesia, being KILLED, like.....the amount of things he's groveled for forgiveness for when he didn't actually do a damn thing wrong or worse yet, was the ACTUAL victim of is like....pretty damn staggering. And meanwhile, there's nary a peep of apology from the people who regularly insult or belittle him, get physically violent with him, take advantage of him or take him for granted, etc, etc, etc. Its entirely too one-sided and imbalanced, and the pendulum needs to swing the other direction, like YESTERDAY, and in a fairly big way, IMO.

3) None of this Baby's First Social Justice Awakening 101 crap. I'm sorry, but no. Especially not when you go out of your way to acknowledge that Dick is Romani, only to then turn around and act like he's only JUST had his eyes opened to an awareness of like, classism and poverty and the real struggles people face day to day? Sorry not sorry, but especially for other white writers out there, do not use people of color as self-inserts for dipping a toe into Learning To See Past Privilege. And especially when talking about a character who has a history of being actively abused and hurt by the system and institutions of power, or hell, even leaving out that particular origin story, who has still been out on the streets helping people since he was a literal child. You can not tell me that this is his first face to face experience with social issues, or the first time he's had the inclination to try and address those head on. (And its also particularly egregious that the people second-guessing Dick in his own title and giving him reality checks or acting like they have more of an awareness of all this than he does like, happen to all be white? OPTICS. LEARN ABOUT THEM. COMMON SENSE. GET SOME.)

Know what would actually be a better way to approach this? Flashbacks. Show us Dick running into situations that make him think back to a case when he was still Robin, when he and Batman had started fighting over their approaches to things, actually SHOW us those conflicts and how their viewpoints had started diverging, and how much of that was due to Dick not having the same experiences as Bruce, or the same standing in society, no matter what house he lived in. THEN you can jump BACK to the present, with the reminder/awareness that this is something that isn't NEWS to Dick, but that he in the past felt he was forced to make his peace with as something he wasn't in a position to do that much about....only NOW, he's in a very DIFFERENT position, and suddenly it just hits him how he's still acting like he did when he was limited in resources or in having to be part of a chain in command or having to factor other responsibilities into things....now he ACTUALLY has the power and the resources to make meaningful change in the ways he ALWAYS wanted to, but maybe just needed time to figure out HOW.

Like you know what would have made Shawn Tsang's story arc so much better? If Dick didn't just remember her as the Pigeon's one time teenage sidekick he'd briefly fought as a kid, but like.....if he remembered her as someone he and Bruce had FOUGHT about. Because he didn't agree with sending someone to juvie for defacing public property as a form of political protest, when it was someone's LIFE who was going to be irrevocably damaged by that while the damage to the city could be fixed with a check, and what made Dick any more deserving of Bruce's leniency and faith in his potential or underlying goodness than Shawn?

But he was still a kid himself back then, and when Bruce responded with his usual conviction, talking about the importance about rule of law and etc etc, Dick just didn't have the words to get through to him then, to get him to understand that this wasn't just Dick not getting it because he was too young, it was BRUCE not getting it, that Dick was literally just saying well he wasn't too young to have been in juvie himself, and of the two of them, he's the one who has experience there so why was Bruce's opinion on whether this was the punishment that fit the crime the one that got to hold more weight here? When Dick's the one who knows what that punishment actually LOOKS like beyond the abstract, for whom it was a reality that still haunts him in ways that even defacing a few statues of some rich old fucks doesn't deserve?

Or hell, go back FURTHER than when he was Robin. Idk where any of those posts are, but I've always wanted to see something where Dick maybe runs into someone he remembers from his time in juvie, maybe a guard who is like, the source of the reasons Dick mistrusts figures of authority and is so hung up on independence and not being under anyone's thumb, or maybe someone who was in there with him, another kid who looked out for him when he didn't have to, etc. Gimme Dick tackling head-on his firsthand awareness that there's no rehabilitation to be found in a jail for kids, when most of those kids don't even need rehabilitation in the first place and only did what they did in order to survive or escape from worse situations or like, were there purely because of racist cops, etc. Let him go after THAT system, driven by personal experiences and memories that maybe only hit him in full after recovering his memories from the Ric Grayson arc, like they're things that he put in a box in his mind a long, long time ago because he didn't have the spoons or reserves to deal with them when he was a kid still so traumatized in so many ways, like, something had to give and so he put all those memories away for another day and just....never got back to them because life kept hitting him with new and fresh trauma every week.

But now something has him thinking back to those early days in Gotham, and reminding him that not everyone had a Bruce Wayne willing and able to give them an out from that place or acrobatic skills to escape it on their own, and like. You want to do something about the cycles of violence in Gotham and Bludhaven? Why not start with the places that literally MANUFACTURE cruelty on an institutional level, that teach kids that no matter what they did to get put there, even if that was nothing at all, they're all going to be treated the same way and given no reason NOT to do whatever it took to be top dog in a dog eat dog world by the time they got out.

There's SO many better approaches to social awareness in the Batbooks than what we're seeing, and like. Sheesh. The bar is way too low.

4) On a related note, if I'm editor of the Nightwing book, the FIRST thing I'm doing is making it a priority to find a writer of color for that book, ideally someone of Rom descent. Its waaaaay past time to let a Romani writer take the reins on Dick, Wanda, Pietro or Doom, aka some of the only prominent Romani characters out there? You can't tell me that there aren't talented writers who identify as Roma who would be more than willing to add their perspective to Dick's archive of narratives, and if an editor's gotta go looking for them? Go fucking look. DC and its fans have milked a lot of mileage out of the idea of Dick being Romani with very little in the way of nuanced storytelling to show for it in the past twenty years, and if DC wants to trot out little reminders that Dick is Romani every couple years, like in the form of a freaking line that has no follow up or expansion to any degree and is offset by an internal monologue that otherwise reads as incredibly privileged, the least they can do is TRY to expand on that with the narrative perspective of someone they claim to be representing via that character.

And no, this isn't gatekeeping, this is prioritizing. Its not about preventing other writers from writing this character, like just for the hell of it, its about being proactive about finding a writer who can write specific aspects of this character that have long gone unaddressed or poorly represented. And like. Okay. Its not easy breaking into the comics industry for anyone, but its particularly not easy for marginalized writers. Most every major comic book company just recites 'make your own stuff first and then show us that' but when you're a writer specifically, finding a compatible artist to partner with on creator-owned indie stuff first, when those artists are in the same position as you are and apologetically and understandably tend to have to take paying work over yours if you can't pay except on the back end, like....there are a lot of hurdles to getting your start in comic books, and while there are more and more marginalized writers in comics these days, DC and Marvel kinda fucked up, because you know what?

After being told 'make your own first, then we'll talk,' writers DID do just that....but then found out that well, due to the ease of online distribution and access these days, for any writers who CAN find an artist to partner with, its a hell of a lot easier to get their content out there these days WITHOUT a major publisher behind them.....and for a lot of marginalized writers in particular, its worth it to keep full creative control in exchange for smaller circulation. Especially when they don't have to deal with editors 'softening' their work to make it more palatable for audiences that quite frankly aren't necessarily their primary target. So yeah, marginalized voices are becoming more and more present in comics, but Marvel and DC for the most part are keeping the same voices centered they always have, and what these voices have to say is becoming less and less relevant and outdated. Because much like this arc from Taylor, even when they DO dip their toes into story matter that's of interest to wider audiences, they're doing so to a degree that still puts them years behind the conversations everyone else is having.

5) The same holds true of disability representation. I stopped reading Taylor's run for a lot of reasons but his way of responding to people unhappy with his depiction of Babs was a key one. If I'm editor on a book, and someone tweets at one of my writers that their depiction of a disabled character was hurtful because it feels like they're doubling back on everything Babs has ever said about not being defined by or ashamed of her disability and now its being treated like a dirty little secret, and that writer's response is essentially to just laugh at them and say there's nothing wrong or ableist about their writing of a disabled person, TO a concerned disabled person? That writer's ass is getting fired. Full stop.

Either you give a shit about this stuff or you don't. Don't pay your readers lip service about how important social issues are to you and how much you care about using superhero narratives to inspire people on these matters if you're gonna turn around and show your ass the second you don't feel comfortable and prioritized by the conversation, like it wouldn't exist without your oh so valuable contributions. ESPECIALLY if you don't identify as sharing the same identity of the marginalized character you're writing. You are a guest in someone else's lived experiences at that point, and you think you've got the right to belittle and talk down to the people who LIVE THERE? Fuck off, my dude.

6) Re-center Dick as someone who the superhero community RESPECTS. I love seeing Dick depicted as someone who has an awareness of his own limitations and an appreciation for what others bring to the table, and so I'm not opposed to him calling on others when he needs to.....but I also would like to see more of the opposite. But not in the way we usually see it these days, where he's asked to come help with a crisis and then usually second-guessed the whole way, and then sent back home without so much as a thank you when its done. Yawn. Sorry. I've read that story by now.

You know what story arc I freaking LOVED as a kid, back in the 90s? In Green Lantern, when Kyle Rayner first became the sole GL, one of his very early arcs, before he ever joined the JLA or anything....was him realizing how little he knew about being a superhero. He was like, my predecessors all had a full fledged CORPS to teach them everything they needed to know, but I had a few lines of exposition from a funny little blue guy in a red pillowcase and then I was off to the races. That's not good enough. There's so much I don't know about being a hero, I don't even KNOW what I still need to know.

So he went on kinda a superhero training roadtrip. He went to Metropolis to ask Superman for advice, he went to Batman to learn from Batman and Robin (Tim at the time). He went to Wonder Woman, Sentinel (Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern), etc, etc. And in the end, Kyle very much became his own kind of hero who wasn't just a pastiche of all those other heroes and the advice they gave him, but like....this put him on the road to that.

And I'd love to see something like that happen in Dick's solo title. We've seen him train in a team setting, we've seen him train the other Robins.....I'd love to see like, young superheroes from OTHER books, not ones created by the title, but like names people actually recognize from other franchises, like, guest star in Nightwing's book to learn from HIM, specifically. I wanna see something where Wally looks at the latest speedster and is like, you know what, if you really wanna be the best hero you can possibly be, then Nightwing's who you gotta go to, because there's no one I trust to make a better hero out of someone than him. I want the newest kid on the JLA block to worry that people aren't taking him seriously because of his age or experience, and he's always hearing them talk about Nightwing and how young he was when he started and so if anyone knows something about how to gain the respect of your older superhero peers, that's the guy to talk to.

Gimme Dick's couch being crashed on at various times by a half dozen new or upcoming young superheroes who all heard or figured out that if they really want to up their superhero game, Nightwing's the guy to see.

7) Bring back Bea. There's no long paragraph expansion on this, its really simply. Bring back Bea. She was one of the freshest breaths of air in Dick's supporting cast in ages, most of the current run is based off her character direction in the first place, she's literally the best suited TO help Dick in this venture, and the reasons they gave for writing her out of Dick's life were all bullshit and they just wanted to focus on his previous relationships, which would be fine if they didn't fall into the same two endless cycles of bring back up, go nowhere with, awkwardly avoid each other for years, rinse and repeat. Like. Bring back Bea, please and thank you, the end.

8) Focus on new villains. Heartless is meh, but the idea of new villains is still better IMO than rehashing Blockbuster, Zucco, etc. Like, nostaglia ain't it. If I want to read Blockbuster fucking up Dick's life, I can do that. They're called back issues. The thing is, love it or hate it, the Blockbuster arc WAS iconic. It left its mark. And anything that doesn't leave just as much of a mark, if they're going to bring him up again, is just gonna be a waste of time, you know? It'll just dilute his overall presence when like, what he was - worked fine as is. We don't need Round Two.

The trick to good villains, IMO, is they have to speak to a fight that needs fighting.

What I mean by that is....the best villains are those who resonate on a more instinctive level because they embody something that already exists in a reader's mind as a conflict that needs fighting. Like, if superheroes exist, if the embodiment of larger than life presences and forces devoted to protecting the world from various things are real....then their villains need to embody the kinds of fights or conflicts that NEED larger than life figures to combat them, at least on a one to one level.

Look at Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman at his core embodies the strength of community. He's the ultimate hero of the people, his essence is that he was the last survivor of a doomed race who was raised by two honest, hard working people to see the beauty in just being ONE of them, in using what he had on behalf of all of them and not just himself. In contrast, Lex Luthor is basically the embodiment of capitalist greed, of excess, of the entitlement of being able to have anything with a snap of your fingers and thus assuming that gives you divine mandate to make the kinds of choices that he sees as only his right to make.

He hates Superman, ultimately, because Superman is the WRONG savior of the people. He wants their only savior to be HIM, half the time he honestly believes he's saving the world FROM Superman, but just as often he's perfectly content to be the villain and not shy about it....because Lex Luthor's ultimate motivation is he wants everyone to know when he's dead and gone that LEX LUTHOR WAS HERE. He genuinely doesn't care WHAT his impact or legacy is at the end of the day, just that it exists and it overshadows most everything else...because all that really matters to him is the irrefutable proof that HE mattered. And thus at their cores, Superman and Lex are perfectly opposed. Ideally situated to eternally be in conflict, their own forever war, because their core natures are incompatible. They CAN'T compromise, without compromising themselves and essentially ending up as someone totally other than who and what they are already.

And you can go down the list. The Joker is the chaos to Batman's order, while Mr. Freeze is the stagnancy of that order taken too far, he's what you get when you freeze everything in your grief and refuse to let anything go on, anything new grow, because that would mean having to admit once and for all that what you're mourning is really gone. Two-Face is the ultimate embodiment of Man vs Self, a once good man at war with his own worse nature, and reminding everyone who looks at him how easily they could fall to the same fate.

And so on and so on. What Dick needs, is more of the same. Like, as much as I'm not a huge fan of Talon stories, I maintain that the Court of Owls were a great foil for him - just they tend to be poorly used in canon as well. But I also think how poorly they come off in canon has a lot to do with canon not really touching on WHY they're such a perfect foil for Dick....and that's Dick's history with being outside the system, mistreated and even exploited by the system. Because the Court, their core concept, is they ARE the system. They are entrenched, enfranchised, institutional power, passed down through generations, dynastic control that is a perfect counterpart to the dynastic power of the Wayne family, embodied in its youngest generation in the form of Bruce's FOUND family, the children he adopted regardless of whether or not his peers found them deserving of that honor. The Court, and their entire....thing...about the Gray Son, is the entitled fury of those denied something they deem theirs simply because they WANT it, and who will burn the whole world down rather than admit defeat or let someone else have it instead.

And that resonates. It could resonate a lot MORE if DC would actually lean into those concepts and allow Dick to explore how the Court are nothing he's not used to, they're literally made up of the same people who have looked down on him ever since he came to Gotham, but now they're actually a face and a name put to all those attitudes, something he can literally FIGHT BACK AGAINST. The Court are literally human-sized embodiments of everything and everyone who's tried to confine Dick since his parents' deaths, tried to define him without his permission, tried to make him other or lesser than who and what he is.....and who thus now exist in a form that Dick can literally BATTLE. So that he doesn't HAVE to just take this stuff lying down.

Thanks to the Court, he doesn't HAVE to just passively accept it, that this is just how life is, that some people are going to view him this way and think this about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He CAN do something about it, in superhero stories. He can kick its ASS, in the form of the Court of Owls and everything its members think about him and intend for him. He can refuse to bow down to them, to accept their mark on him. He can say lol, no, and then blow their shit sky high, ideally with a little help from his family. He can BEAT them, in this incarnated form, and in doing so, even though he can't beat everything they stand for and represent, that victory still matters, still means something symbolic to readers it resonates with.

And that's what we need more of. Villains created specifically to embody concepts that are diametrically opposed to Dick and what he represents. The system, yes, but also villains who embody the kind of tyranny and control he fights back against in his constant battles for autonomy and self control. Villains who embody the 'new hopes' of a second generation just like Dick himself is the focal point of the hopes embodied by the second generation of heroes. I'm actually not the hugest fan of multiversal constant Dick Grayson, but I might like it more if he had an opposite number there, someone he was specifically contrasted with. Idk.

But you get it.

9) Dick having a social life. Gimme the Titans and his siblings showing up JUST to show up. We have room enough for at least a couple pages every other issue where we just get to see these characters having some breathing room, taking a beat to stop and be something other than just a superhero, to be human as well. There's more to life than 24/7 fighting, even for them, and that's largely been lost in modern superhero comics, which kinda sucks, because that was what made most of the more iconic and lasting dynamics between various characters like, STAND the test of time. The larger than life battles between good and evil might be what many of us come to superhero comics FOR, but the relatable back-and-forths and ups and downs of their private lives spent with friends and family tends to be what keeps most of us coming BACK. And lately its all just mission, mission, mission, and I'm like blah, blah, blah and its like, meh, meh, meh. Y'know? Give the guy some down time, and let his friends come spend it with him.

10) Boone. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you know anything about me, you know my obsession with Robin: Year One, Dick's brief time at Vengeance Academy, and the hate/hate relationship he has with his brief frenemy from that period, Boone aka Shrike. This character has SOOOOO much potential to be Dick's true archnemesis and rival, and like. *Sobs* I can't get into it all again. Its too much. I can't do it.

Okay, I absolutely can. And will, probably. But like. Later.

BONUS ROUND:

Other thing I would absolutely insist upon if I were Nightwing editor....

GET THAT FUCKING MEME SHIRT ABOUT BRUCE SLAPPING DICK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

Like. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL. Why would you double down on THAT? Why is Babs STILL wearing it? (Last I checked, like I think I saw it in a scan from last issue? I'm pretty sure its still there? If not, forget this entire rant, and I am very embarrassed. Okay not that embarrassed. I don't really care if I'm wrong here but like, in case I'm not)...

WHY. Who thought that was funny? No, seriously, on behalf of any other abuse survivors who like me are SERIOUSLY not amused, who the FUCK thinks its FUNNY to have one of Dick's best friends sporting a shirt that no matter what it represents IN universe, to readers OUT of universe, is always going to call to mind the fact that this meme only freaking EXISTS because of all the times DC has obliviously and without acknowledgment written Bruce abusing his children, including the BFF that Babs is literally wearing that right in front of.

Like omg do you hate her, DC? What other possible reason could you have for thinking that would be a cute, funny thing for her to wear around the guy getting SLAPPED, by his DAD, in your shirt's iconography.

Okay I'm done.

LOL.

Sorry, that last one was brewing for awhile. Deep breaths. Woo.

[inkbyajm]

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words  :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

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Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way. 

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?” 

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late. 

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly.