#dick moves inc.

[gravityr00m]

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[gravityrooom]

[moon1833]

Knots- Shouta Aizawa

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“Shouta’s eyes are usually rimmed with tiredness, reddened by excessive stress and lack of sleep. Now, they’re pleading with you, glossy and alert of every movement you make.”

Inc: Smut, bondage, inappropriate use of a capture weapon, sub-ish Aizawa, dom reader, begging, cowgirl

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Shouta had used his binding scarf on many people before. He’s used them on villains or criminals mostly, occasionally his unruly students. He’d even used them on you before, and as purely erotic as it was, nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

He’d never had them used on him before.

You hum contently above him, the curve of your breast slipping into his sight as his old t-shirt drops deeper down your shoulder when you peer down at him. His forearms flex behind his back and he swears he’s never been this hard in his life.

His back arches slightly off the headboard when you finally settle yourself in between his legs, your lower thigh just grazing his boner. His elbow presses into a tight knot, keeping him still as you climb over him.

Shouta’s eyes are usually rimmed with tiredness, reddened by excessive stress and lack of sleep. Now, they’re pleading with you, glossy and alert of every movement you make.

“You okay?” You stroke his chin, letting his stubble drag under your thumb.

Shouta knows that you know this is the closest he’s been to heaven by the cocky smirk on your face, but he finds himself humoring you, anyway.

“Mhm, yes.” He whispers, subconsciously fluttering his eyes closed. You coo, readjusting your legs so you’re sitting on his lap.

“How long have you been wanting to try this?” He grunts, attempting to regain some of his composure.

“Since our spar.” You reply instantly, bringing your lips to his neck. “You remember, the one where I managed to use your own capture weapon against you.”

“That was a dirty move.” He can hardly get the words out, his hips stutter as you shift over him. You can’t tell if he’s talking about last week’s training session or how you sunk your teeth into a particular spot on his neck.

“Yeah?” You pull back, tilting your head. “You seemed to have liked it then, too.”

Uncharacteristically, Shouta flushes at the memory, recalling how quickly his dick hardened at being restricted by you, and how quickly he came when he ran off to go shower afterwards.

“So what?” He grumbles. You run your fingers through the hair around his nape. His breath hitches.

“Don’t be a brat.” Your lips brush his jaw. “It’s more enjoyable when you let go of that attitude.”

You tug on the knot behind him while your other hand fists his hair, and against his better judgement a whine sneaks through his clenched teeth. His dick practically jumps, and he can feel the precum leaking from his tip and making the fabric of his boxers stick to it.

You kiss him, grinding your hips down onto him as he groans into your mouth. Reflexively, he tries to pull you closer, but his hands are stopped by the restraining ties of his own weapon. He groans a little, and you rut against him forcefully, pushing more noises out of him.

Shouta is worried he might finish in his pants, and his concern is echoed on his face. His lips quiver with small moans of “Ah, fuck” and gasps of pleasure as you mark down his chest. You lick around his skin, letting it roll over your tongue and nourishing the taste.

You know he’s close. You’ve memorized his tell signs. From his screwed shut eyes and twitching nose, Shouta is about to finish. You peal off of him, amused at how he throws back his head in protest and his eyes shooting open.

You shove your panties off, making a bit of a show as you maintain eye contact with him, watching his chest heave.

Shouta lifts his hips slightly, encouraging you to help him push his boxers off, and you do, throwing them off to some corner of the room.

You place your knees on either side of him, hovering over him and sighing when his tip smacks against your clit unintentionally.

You don’t move, though, keeping your position and peering down on him.

“What?” He breathes.

“Come on.” You cross your arms, and his eyes watch your tits press against the thin material of your shirt. “Beg for it.”

His throat closes, his mouth parted in shock. When all he does is gape at you, you refuse to move.

“Shouta.” You warn. “I will finger fuck myself right here and leave you untouched.”

“Okay, fine.” He says quickly. “Shit, please.”

You give him a pointed look. “Keep going.”

“Fucking hell.” He seethes. “Please, just ride me already. I can’t take much more of this.”

You giggle, sliding down his dick until just the tip was in. An involuntary moan shivers out of you at the stretch, and Shouta’s face twitches in confidence.

In retort, you slam your hips down, forcing him all the way into you. He yelps in shock, and you dont give him much time before lifting up at repeating the action.

Your hole is burning, but it melts into pleasure the more your slick and his precum lubricates his dick. You continue to bounce up and down, little huffs of pleasure leaving you in between each stroke.

You lift your shirt over your head, fully displaying your chest as your body jiggles at the force of your thrusts. The smack of your bodies colliding is loud, but Shouta’s whimpers and string of curses are louder, and you use his shoulders to balance yourself.

Continuing your movements, you feel around the comforter for your underwear, grasping them in your palm. You tug on Shouta’s hair, and a sharp grunt leaves his mouth. You take the opportunity to shove your panties inside, watching his expression turn to a half-assed glare before switching into a burningly erotic submission.

“Aw, you gonna cum?” You jeer, even though you were fighting back your own orgasm.

Lost in a haze, Shouta nods vigorously. You keep your motions steady, fucking him through his climax as his hips jump to meet your pace. The harshness of it, along with the pretty sounds he was making forces your own orgasm, and your legs jerk as his cum leaks out of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you regain your breathing, combing out the small knots you formed by pulling his hair. You kiss his cheek as you reach behind him, pulling off of his dick completely to focus on untying the knot.

“Was that okay?” You ask, using your fingernails to loosen the garment.

All Shouta can mutter out is a small “Mhm”, instantly wrapping his arms around you when you finally pull the fabric through the headboard.

“So good.” He adds, his words soft as he lays down across the bed. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too.” You giggle, cuddle closer to him. He’s asleep before you can pull the covers over each other.

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[gaywineauntsstuff]

Listen I love the ‘dicks being ostracized from his family and self destructs’ trope in fics however

I would like an inverse just once (I could write it but I want this fic to be good so I can enjoy it and I am not the greatest writer) where everyone blows up at him and flat out lays into him and he just goes… okay… if that’s how you feel?

Takes himself off of the patrol routes and rosters. He’s off the emergency calls and his ‘call for city wide emergency’ has been down graded to ‘call for world wide emergency’ he’s no longer on comms with oracle

He stops offering assistance to the other kids teams, doesn’t send info for investigation and doesn’t go within 100feet of Gotham.

Takes himself off the den-mother, baby sitter, trainer for all the younger teams lost that involve any and all bats

In the beginning he vacates his apartment and temporarily moves in with Donna in New York and things are good because of course they are. They’re Dick and Donna a world doesn’t exist where they aren’t okay.

And then his presence in New York leads to a lot of the og core five titans interacting and they realize that they miss each other like hell and start to work together more and more. Until news sites are like ‘teen titans grown up??’ ‘Original titans spotted doing hurricane aid in Florida!’

Because Dick loves his family but he knows when to bow out. And he chose the family he made in the new teen titans.

And then one day one of the bats track him down in nyc and breaks into what is now Dick and Donna’s apartment and are ready to argue that they need him back and need him there for a huge Gotham wide event.

And Dick says ‘sure okay let me get my stuff and we leave in half and hour’ as soon as the first sentence is out

No convincing or begging or asking for money (cough Jason cough)

Dick is patched into their comms and he’s working efficiently except he’s not… acting like himself.

He’s collaborating with whoever they tell him too, no problem, he’s discussing ideal plans and co-ops and teams and how to best get it under control.

But he’s talking to them the way he talks when he’s offering aid to teams he’s not a part of.

Like the hero version of an acquaintance and no one can call him out on it because he’s doing good work. Work that’s on par with his work before this whole fiasco. He explicitly isn’t letting their personal issues affect his work.

He’s speaking but not talking

And Bruce remembers this… he’s probably the only one who does because last time he was the only one included. The last time Dick acted like this is when he first visited Jason and him after he had been fired.

Whenever Bruce was in the room and Dick was forced to speak with him, the conversation never strayed past business casual especially around Jason.

Batman and Nightwing got into screaming matches

Bruce and Dick were strangers

And now they’re back to this, 7 kids later, a million ends of the world stopped, they’ve bled together, cried together and clung to each other in pure relief after they managed to clutch victory.

And Nightwing was treating Batman Inc like a new team stepping onto the scene.

Once they’ve secured everything and managed to keep Bruce from self destructing and making it worse. Dick just leaves and tells oracle that he’ll send over his debrief in 3-5 business days and it was nice working with them.

And then he’s gone

No cave, no manor, no Alfred, no med-bay because Dick doesn’t stay places he’s not welcome.

And after they all talk about that and how weird it was and Bruce reveals Dick did this before when he was Nightwing after Bruce fired, where Dick Grayson didn’t know Bruce Wayne.

And one of the kids asks when he broke and stopped the act and Bruce just says ‘the day he found out Jason died’

And the Batkids kinda freak bc what do you mean?? What is he only going to come back when someone dies? Thats not? There has to be another way?? And Bruce is like yeah no idea sorry (bc he’s helpful like that)

So then Steph the next day resolves to go visit him, Tim isn’t the only professional stalker. And she finds Dick and Donna’s apartment and well it’s daylight and she’s in civvies she’s if she climbs in through the window she might get reported to the NYPD and she doesn’t wanna get arrested or shot to door it is!

And so she goes and knocks and Dick opens the door and just lights up

Something something this is such a nice surprise something something it’s so good to see you.

Dick had taught Donna how to make some of his mother recipes when they were kids. So now whenever they’re together for a long time they cook together.

So Dick who is usually living in a cluttered apartment with no clean dishes and an exclusively grab and go food is now trying to force feed her some of his cooking.

Because he picked up the habit again since he’s the better cook between him and Donna.

And it’s delicious and he wants to catch up and hear everything that’s going on in her life, is she working with new people, dating anyone? How is her relationship with her mother etc etc.

It’s a nice day and she stays late and never confronts him on anything until she sees how long ago the sun set and she needs to get moving.

He hands her paper with his number and makes her promise not to give it to the others or she will lose access to it, he offers to help her on a conditional basis as nightwing but only her, she can call him about the rest if it’s an end of the world or they’re near death and need immediate aid.

And that’s like the fic because the key to winning nightwings assistance is like breathing (optional) but if you’re Dicks family you have to care or else. He’ll love you and help you, when you need it but he won’t tie his life up with yours, he’ll spend his time with people who value his opinion and the person behind the mask.

Anyway cue all the Batkids trying to do what Steph did and fail because they’re neurotic shits who think bonding involves doing casework together or a steak out.

(The next person to crack it is Damian, completely unintentionally he has a fight with Bruce and can’t ask him how the fuck he’s supposed to solve this equation in the new stupid way they’re teaching him no he can’t use the old method they’re supposed to show their work so he pulls up to Dick and Donna’s in a ratty ass hoodie like plz wtf do you mean you work top down explain Grayson- and dicks like awww no problem kid)

[aangelicest]

begging for big bro suguru eating sister’s pussy and ass PLEASE

Taking it up the ass I'm familiar with but eating ass is new for me 🧍‍♀️ sorry if it's off or awkward ww (,,>﹏<,,) I'm also terrified this is gonna get me like reported because of how many blogs ive seen lately getting their blogs deleted.. fuck it we ball

Content Warnings: Inc♡st, Little Sister! Reader, Pussy eating, Ass eating, Pet names (baby, princess)

MDNI + Anti's please block and move on♡

Big!Bro Suguru's favorite thing you do is that cute little squirm you do when you're overwhelmed. It's the cutest thing in the world to him, watching you shift and fidget with the hem of your shirt, the way you bite your lip as you awkwardly try to get away from whatever situation you've found yourself in.

Too bad you cant run from his tongue buried in you ):

He's not even nice about it, your thighs pressed all the way to your chest as the sound of your dripping cunt being devoured rings in your ears. He pulls back slightly, biting on the fat of your inner thighs as a means to mark you. He presses a kiss to the bite before licking a slow, sensual path back up to your pussy.

"So sweet.. fuck you're dripping everywhere baby." Before you could even respond with a whine, he dove back in, his mouth engulfing your cunny in a sloppy kiss. His tongue plunged deep, fucking your tiny hole with his nose brushing against your clit, causing you to arch your back desperately searching for more friction.

He feels your thighs press against he side of his head, threatening to suffocate him but he doesn't let up until you spray your juices all over his face. He pulls up to suck on your spent clit before he dips his tongue back into you dripping slit, lapping up the remaining juices like a man starved.

He groans when your juices drip all the way down to your ass, and he doesn't hesitate to spread your soft, plump ass cheeks apart, extending his tongue to lap around your puckered entrance just to get it all.

"Ah- hngg, S-Sugu feels weird-" You'd whine, already shaking from behind overstimulated, now having to deal with his tongue just poking at your other entrance. It made your pussy twitch and flutter with every unfamiliar stripe of his tongue. "N-No- Sugu-nii s'too much-"

"C'mon angel, you can take it. One more." He pulls up just to press a gentle kiss onto your thigh, his eyes meeting yours. The eye contact barely lasted before he buried his face back between your cheeks, his tongue delving deep to explore the tight ring of muscle, desperate to feel it clench around his pink muscle.

"Mmph, s'tight fuck-" Suguru mumbled against your skin, his words vibrating through your sensitive tissue. He alternated between long, slow laps and rapid flicks while his thumb went back to circling your poor abused clit, wanting to feel it throb under his touch until you stained the bed with your juices.

Your big brother would feast on your ass like a man possessed, his tongue plunging in and out of your tight hole with reckless abandon. He gripped her hips bruisingly, holding you in place every time he felt you try to squirm away.

"Stay fuck'n still baby, fuck." he growled between slurping kisses, punctuating each word with a sharp nip to her tender flesh. He enjoys when you try and run away, the way he can leave teeth marks and finger prints into your skin as a reminder of how you'll never get far makes his dick twitch in his pants.

"S-Sugu- Sugu- ah-" Your legs would start to give out, his thumb rubbing at your clit made your back arch- so close- And then he'll pull away, ignoring the way you whimper and try to grab at him to finish you off again. But he only reaches for his belt, licking his lips as he stares down at you with a grin that tells you that you won't have to cry about not cumming for long.

You're going to wish he just finished you off then and there.

[rakurairagnarok]

Thong out, dumb down

My take on @papermoon357 request.

you want to be changed? Well here you gooo!

Ding dong!

Your doorbell rang. You groggily walked to the sound.

Who would be at the door at this godforsaken hour? You scratch your belly as you slowly make it to the door. You open it, and see a small package on your doormat.

It has a small note attached. "A small gift for our BIGGEST patron <3 Rakurai Inc."

You frown. It must be a mix up, you've never heard of this company, but the box does have your adress on it.

As you walk back inside, you slowly open the box. Inside is a small but stretchy, black thong.

You take it out of the box and hold it up against the light. It seems to be a regular thong, but something about it seems weird.

Maybe the fact that you, who would never wear such a thing, is already undressing.

Maybe the fact that your fingers are weirdly tingly as you slowly put it on.

Maybe its the fact that you look AMAZING in it???

Your mind halts for a bit. That was a primal reaction, which is really out of place for your normally quite timid demeanor.

You turn for the mirror you could almost swear wasn't there before, and snicker.

It does fit nicely but you really don't have the body for it.

You walk away from the mirror, just as something catches your eye.

Your ass is ... bubbling?

It's not quite the right word, but its moving on Its own, in a very unnatural way.

As you continue watching you notice that not only is it moving, it is actually growing!

You put your hand on your seemingly growing glutes to feel, and a giant wave of pleasure flows through your body. You can't help but moan as your hand almost sinks in the soft, jiggly meat that is your steadily growing ass.

Your eyes roll back as you continue groping and feeling up your own behind, not noticing the rest of your body also begins to bubble.

At first it's small, but steadily your legs begin to bulk up. Your previous stick like legs start to grow to a size proportional to your giant butt. Your quads flex, showing thick groups of muscles. Your calves become juicy, while your feet crawl along the floor growing several sizes. A small whaft flies into your nose, a hint of footfunk now forever integrated into your personal BO.

Next up, your flat chest starts to balloon out. Thick, juicy pillows begin to form, which start to bounce slowly pulling your attention away from your perfect, peachy bubble butt. You grope your growing muscle tits, and a stronger, new pleasure wave rushes through your body.

Your hands grow, giving you more to grab your pecs with. You pinch your new sensitive, large nipples, as your bisceps and trisceps bulge out. Your shoulders rounding and back broadening, giving you a slightly imposing posture.

The slight belly you had, sucks in, revealing a slight set of washboard abs, and a nice pair of cumgutters.

As you run your hand down your newly flattened belly, down to your groin, you feel it pulsing against the fabric. Your hand gropes the bulging thong, feeling your manhood grow and push against it. Your balls start to fill, churning, drooping, begging for release.

Your other hand moves up, towards your neck, your jaw, your mouth.

Your neck thickens, Adam's apple pushing out, which makes your moans lower , and lower. Your jawline sharpens, and a slight fuzz sprouts along it. You trace a finger along your soft lips, which have plumped up, perfect for... well... you know.

Your run your tongue along them, almost begging for something to split them apart.

Your face, tired from all the work you have been doing, smoothens. Blemishes dissappearing, a new glow spreading. Your eyes droop, forever in a permanent relaxed state. You have nothing to worry about after all. You don't need to think. People think for you. The only thing you need to do, is look hot and get fucked.

You look in the mirror and smile, such a perfect body. Dick to get sucked, ass to get fucked with plenty of muscles to get peoples attention.

You slaunter around your appartment, grabbing a few clothes to put on. You move back to the mirror, sending a pic to your fuckbud.

Thong out, dumb down.

Hope you enjoy it @papermoon357 , I'm sure your top will.

Hope you'll continue your shopping at Rakurai Inc.!!!!

[casscainmainly]

Small question, does it have to be Gotham for Cass? There's charas like Dick that can go establish their identity in a different city. Then there's Bruce, Steph, Jason and Duke who are so intrinsically tied to Gotham that this has to be the city for them. Where does Cass lie on this spectrum? Tq!

EXCELLENT question. I think Cass' situation is somewhat unique because of the way her character was handled post-Batgirl (2000).

In favour of Cass not staying in Gotham, she doesn't have the same emotional connection to Gotham as the four people you listed. She wasn't raised there, and in Batgirl (2000), she has next to no ties to Gotham civilians. In fact, it's when she moves to Bludhaven in Gabrych's run that she gains her first civilian friend and civilian love interest. The iconic volving panel is from Bludhaven, too. It's undeniable that the distance from Gotham, from Bruce (and arguably Babs), helps her grow:

Batgirl (2000) #71

It can't be overstated how important ownership is to Cass. To own something means, necessarily, that you not an object. You are a person who something belongs to, and who belongs to something. By calling Bludhaven the "first place that's ever been... mine," she's explicitly saying that Gotham was not hers. Bludhaven was the first place that made her feel fully human.

But there are caveats to this. Cass goes to Bludhaven in the wake of Stephanie's death, a Gothamite through and through. It's probable that Steph's death colours her view of Gotham here, and her willingness to embrace Bludhaven is in response to the pain that Gotham now brings her. (This is also after Babs calls Cass stupid). Feeling like Gotham doesn't belong to her might stem from these specific circumstances, and not be applicable in current canon.

Still, if the story had ended there, I'd say Cass doesn't need to stay in Gotham. Unfortunately, it doesn't.

Red Robin (2009) #17

After Bruce's death, Cass goes to Hong Kong. Well, 'goes' is putting it nicely. She was written off to make Steph Batgirl, which resulted in Cass a) not appearing in most comics, b) being stripped of the bat symbol, and c) being isolated from everyone she cares about, besides Tim. It's a horrific and undeserved fate, reversing everything Cass' story once stood for (narrative agency; becoming a hero; finding a family).

Though Cass regains the symbol and becomes the Bat of Hong Kong, she is no longer part of the narrative; her distance from Gotham became a representation of her distance from narrative importance. That's the real danger of Cass leaving Gotham - unlike Dick, who is a big enough character to be guaranteed solos in Blud, Cass leaving Gotham will forever hold the threat of erasure.

I'm discussing this in a meta-textual sense, but textually Cass knows the danger too.

Gates of Gotham #5

Here, Cass rebuffs Dick's assertion that Gotham will never keep either of them because they don't belong. She says, "It's about how you choose to see the world. Everything else is just an excuse." She's repudiating multiple things: editorial's decision to boot her from Gotham; Bruce's decision to take Batgirl away; even, somewhat, Dick's ascension to the Bat mantle when she wasn't given a chance.

This is ultimately why, though Cass could work elsewhere, I think she should work in Gotham. It's the place she ran to after David Cain, the place she chose to stay in, and the place that gave her Batgirl. Most importantly, it's the place that rejected her. It's not about Gotham itself - It's about how she was ejected from it, and how she fought her way back, over and over again. Cass staying in Gotham ensures history doesn't repeat itself. It rewards Cass fans who survived OYL, Batman Inc, and New 52 with the light at the end of the tunnel.

This is just my opinion! I do love her stint in Bludhaven, so I understand other people preferring her elsewhere. Just for me, she may not belong to Gotham in the way Bruce, Steph, Duke, Jay, or Babs does, but she deserves to be there.

[avatar-anna]

The Cutest F****** Thing

just some fluff with latina!reader and harry (one of my personal fave couples tbh). enjoy!

Harry Styles x Latina!Reader

"What do you think, bubbie? Do I look okay?"

Harry looked up from his phone, his cheeks flaming when he heard your nickname for him. He'd never been with anyone so verbally affectionate before until he met you, but he was finding that he didn't mind it one bit. He loved it, even.

When he tried to respond, his throat went dry, his words getting caught up and jumbled there. You were still facing yourself in the mirror propped against your bedroom wall, but when Harry had failed to say anything, you turned around to face where he was lying across your bed.

"Harry?"

"You look lovely," he finally managed to say, but even he could tell he sounded awkward.

You grinned at his bashfulness while playfully putting your hands on your hips. "Are you speechless at the mere sight of me?"

One of the first things Harry had loved about you was how easily you diffused the tension in him, how you instantly made him feel comfortable no matter what. He still felt a little sheepish that you managed to render him speechless. Harry wasn't a dick, but he could admit that he normally didn't get this nervous around girls, but even after a couple dates he still felt like the ground was unsteady beneath him whenever he was around you.

But he also had a feeling that you liked how flustered he got. "I am. You look incredible in red."

Now it was your turn to blush, your cheeks matching your red leather jacket. You walked over to where Harry had yet to move from his comfortable position on your bed. When you straddled his waist, his hands were quick to find your thighs.

"Would you say I look inc—red—ible?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Harry grinned immediately. He never thought he would meet someone who was dorky as he was, yet you gave him a healthy run for his money. And he absolutely adored it. "You are just the cutest fucking thing, you know that?"

His hands began to creep up your denim skirt, and when he gave you a look, you were leaning down to kiss him. Your hands reached for the long, silky strands of his hair, twirling them around your fingers. You and Harry hadn't been together for very long, but you were crazy about each other. He was just so sweet and so tender and unlike anyone you'd ever met before. You just clicked, and you were so happy together, you hoped you never stopped feeling giddy around him.

Which was why you couldn't help but get lost in him.

Harry's hands sent fire licking down your spine as he continued to pull kiss after kiss from your lips. He took your bottom lip between his own, sucking on it like there was nothing else he'd rather be doing. And when he had his hands on you and yours were in his hair and scratching his scalp to make him hum with pleasure, there was no place you would rather have been either.

"We're gonna be late, bubba," you said when you were finally able to catch your breath. Harry had moved onto your neck, and you felt like you had to stop him when you felt him bite down a little too hard. "We're supposed to meet your friends."

"It's okay if we're a little late," he said, his lips forming the words against your skin.

You pulled him back then, holding his hair firmly in your grip when he pouted and tried to kiss you again. It was hard to resist him when he looked like that—hair tousled, mouth red and smeared with lip gloss, eyes covered in a lusty glaze and devouring every inch of skin not totally covered up. On principle, you tried not to give into him, though it wasn't easy. This time, however, you managed to stand your ground.

"We can't be late. I don't want to make a bad impression."

Harry frowned for an entirely different reason, then. "Do you think my friends won't like you?"

You shrugged, but Harry could tell it was more than that. You weren't an overly confident person, but you were sure of yourself, something Harry had come to admire about you. He didn't think meeting some of his close friends would make you nervous, but apparently it did.

Harry kissed your forehead, holding your chin between his fingers so you would look him in the eye. "They're gonna love you, I promise."

"How can you be sure?" you asked, letting you little seeds of doubt rise to the surface.

You didn't like to compare yourself to Harry's previous girlfriends, but sometimes it was hard when everything he did was open to public perception. And the truth was you were rather different, not quite fitting the bill of his normal type. That part didn't bother you, you knew what Harry felt for you was genuine, but sometimes you got in your head about how others viewed your relationship.

"Because they'll take one look at the way I look at you, and they'll know how perfect you are for me," Harry said simply, like he had no doubt in his mind that that was what would happen. "If anything, I'm sure they're worried about making sure you like them. I've talked you up quite a bit, you know."

His confidence filled you with warmth and caused you to surge forward to kiss him again, but not long enough to be flipped around so that he was on top of you. But you made sure your appreciation and gratitude was felt as you kissed him, your fingers delicately tracing the planes of his cheekbone.

"Does that mean you won't be nervous to meet my family?" you asked him, speaking softly against his cheek as you peppered it with kisses until he couldn't help but grin.

"Fuck no. My stomach drops just thinking about it," he said, though it only sounded like he was partly joking.

You giggled, kissing his cheek a couple more times before standing up and straightening your skirt. Once your clothes were tugged into the correct spots again, you offered Harry your hand. He took it, standing up to hold you in the circle of his arms so you had to look up at him.

For his talk of nerves, he didn't actually feel nervous, he realized. Harry was excited by the prospect of meeting your family, of taking that step of being that much closer to you. He knew things were moving a little fast, but he wasn't scared by it. Right then, all he was certain of was that he wanted to dive head first into any challenge as long as you were by his side, and he wanted his and your closest friends and family to know it.

Harry looked at you intensely, his gaze sending a flutter to your stomach. You didn't know what it meant, but you figured you could wait to ask until after you met his friends. They'd been waiting long enough, you thought.

"We should go," you murmured, tracing the side of his face with your index finger.

"I know," Harry said, but he didn't even make an effort to move. "Promise we'll end up right back here when we get back?"

You smiled, smoothing his hair back as you did so. "I thought you were going back to your hotel."

In the grand scheme of things, you hadn't been together for very long. No matter how strongly you felt about each other, both of you tried to take things slow. Or tried to make a show of it, anyway before letting a date turn into spending the night or spending the night turning into two or three.

"I like your place better. It's cozier."

You rolled your eyes, but you didn't say anything to object to him staying the night. Instead you tugged him by the hand toward the door. "I think you're just scared to show me how messy you really are all by yourself."

"I happen to be the tidiest twenty-two year old you'll ever meet," Harry said as he shrugged into his coat, a gray one with black stripes. "I just like sleeping somewhere that feels lived in."

Your eyes softened a little at his confession. You knew he didn't love living out of a suitcase and in hotel rooms. Every time he came to visit you, you suggested staying at his hotel so he could make it to whatever meeting or event he had to get to the next morning with ease, but he always politely declined. You lived in a hovel compared to what Harry was probably used to, yet every time he was there it felt natural, like he was your roommate instead of the one you actually lived with. But that was everything about being with Harry. It all just felt so right.

"Can't argue with that, can I?" you said, looping your arm through his. As you stepped out of your apartment and locked up, you asked, "Do I have permission to ask about embarrassing childhood stories if I feel awkward?"

Harry shook his head with a grin spreading across his face. Not because he cared if you asked about what he was like growing up, but because you were just...you. He kissed the top of your head, taking in the scent of your shampoo before pulling back. "You can ask whatever you want, whenever you want."

Your eyes lit up immediately. "That's bold of you."

"I've got nothing to hide," he said with a wink. "I'll tell you anything you want to know on the walk over right now."

Harry expected you to respond in kind, but you didn't. He wasn't sure if you were playing with him or not, but he looked down at you with raised brows anyway. "Do you have something to hide?"

Your grin was sly yet playful. Reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek and whispered in his ear, "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you bubba?"

His stomach flipped with excitement at the mere thought of having a future with you, but he tried to play it as cool as you were. Harry normally could play it cool but he was quickly finding out that he couldn't be anything else but a giddy dork around you.

"Yeah, I guess I will," he said, more than happy to wait.

[percervall]

Mamma mia, here I go again {pt5}

Summary: A summer of poor decisions leads you to having to face the consequences of your actions —and the men involved. Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: talk of pregnancy, mentions of a past relationship, Mark being a dick Word count: 2.5k Taglist: @ashy-kit @averagef1fansblog @barcelonaloverf1life @bradfordbantams @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @exotic-iris13 @goldsainz @iloveneteyam @jaypreshpresh @laura-naruto-fan1998 @monzamash @norrisleclercf1 @opheliaas-stuff @roseseraj @szobosz @vellicora

Part 5 of the Mamma Mia series

Despite the fact that you had just had the summer break, not having a race weekend after Monza comes as a welcome breather. It allows you to catch up on tasks you had been neglecting. You finally managed to clean your flat and had just finished the last load of laundry that morning. It also allowed you time to finally schedule an appointment with a clinic to get a scan done. It had felt surreal, getting the black and white confirmation of the pregnancy. You’re still not sure if having a baby is the smartest move right now, but the relief you felt when you saw that the pregnancy was where it’s supposed to be and the heartbeat left you feeling even more confused about the whole situation. Trying your hardest to push all of that to the side, you change into your workout clothes and roll out your yoga mat. At this point you just need 15 minutes of not thinking about anything and you had found yoga to be a great help. As you centre yourself, focussing on your body and breathing through the poses, you begin to feel calmer. Taking another deep breath, you move into the next pose. The calm energy is rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. For a second you consider just letting it go to voicemail but the sound of the phone buzzing on the table is too much of a distraction to ignore. Huffing in annoyance, you get up from the floor.

“Hello?” 

“Hello to you too, sweetheart. Am I interrupting something?” 

“Yes, my workout,” you retort, rolling your eyes at Mark’s tone.

“Mm, if you need a hand let me know,” he says and you can just picture the look on his face. Smug son of a bitch.

“For fuck’s sake..” you mutter, “Get to the point or I’m hanging up.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m only teasing.” 

“Mark, I’m not doing this. Again, get to the point or I will hang up,” you reply.

“RIght, yes. I’m in your neck of the woods this week for some meetings and I was wondering whether you’d like to come over for dinner on Thursday? I know typically you’d take a girl out on a date, but I think there’s a few things that have gone left unsaid for far too long.” 

“I-.. I’d like that very much, Mark.” Despite his constant flirting, you’re grateful that he offers the both of you an opportunity to talk.

“I can pick you up if you want or you can drive so you have an out if you need it. I don’t-.. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You can hear the sincerity in his voice and it breaks your heart a little bit that this is what is left of the relationship you once had with him. 

“Thanks Mark, I don’t mind driving. Not because of the reasons you named, but I don’t want to inconvenience you by having to drive this way twice. Just text me the address and a time and I’ll be there.” Your phone buzzes against your face, indicating you have received a new message.

“You should have it now. Okay, I’ll let you get back to your workout.” You both say your goodbyes before hanging up. You put the phone down on the table and stare out of the windows in your living room, lost in memories. 

Mark and you met in 2012, while he still drove in Formula 1. You had just graduated university with a degree in Mathematics and Engineering, and your thesis had somehow made its way to the desk of Christian Horner. And so, there you were: 23 years old and bright eyed, using the tool you had developed for your thesis to analyse simulator data and translating that into adjustments needed to the set up of the car to extract its maximum potential. While you mainly worked on Sebastian’s side of the garage, you often bumped into Mark during race weekends, always ready with a comment that should’ve gotten him written up. Mark was everything you needed in a man at that point in your life and it felt so good to feel wanted, to feel desired. And then 2013 happened. 

You have to physically shake your head to stop going down that rabbit hole, only now noticing how hard you’re gripping the back of a chair. Exhaling deeply, you let go, flexing your fingers to get rid of the tension. Despite knowing you need to have this conversation before either of you can even think about second chances, you’re not looking forward to reliving how it all fell apart. 

+

Thursday approaches a lot faster than you had anticipated, work keeping you busy even if there wasn’t a race. Having already showered, you’re now standing in front of your wardrobe trying to decide on what to wear. The old you would have gone for something frilly and short. Mark loved seeing you in these tiny summer dresses, and you loved how his hand felt on your bare thigh, allowing him to easily slide up under your dress while you were out for team dinners and tease you mercilessly. Chewing your bottom lip, you peruse your options. Despite it being September, it’s still a balmy 22 ℃ although it will probably cool off during the course of the evening. Feeling the need to reclaim a part of you that Mark stole from you, you decide to go for a dress. Even if you no longer wear those short, cutesy dresses, you still love how dresses make you feel. There’s a femininity that you sometimes feel out of sync with because of your job. It feels empowering, dressing up in a world built for men. Your eyes fall on a recent purchase –a flowy midi length dress in a gorgeous burnt orange. Slipping it on, you brush your fingers over the soft linen fabric, admiring the way the gold buttons catch the sunlight. It’s casual enough for tonight, but it gives you that little boost of confidence that you know you will need to make it through Mark’s relentless flirting. Closing the door of your wardrobe, you slip on a pair of sandals and grab your purse before heading out. 

It turns out that Mark lives a lot closer to you than you had expected when you first looked at the address he sent you. You park the car on the paved driveway in front of the detached house in the outskirts of Oxford, taking in its grandeur. You remember Mark telling you about how his family would come over for the holidays sometimes and so the extra bedrooms make sense. As you slam your door shut, you spot Mark in the door opening.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets you and you let him pull you into a hug.

“Hey,” you reply softly, following him inside. Mark leads you to a large open kitchen-dining space before offering you something to drink. 

“Wasn’t sure whether you’d want to eat outside or not,” Mark says as he hands you a glass.

“Might as well make the most of this warm weather,” you reply with a smile. Mark returns your smile and takes you outside through the large French doors in the kitchen. 

“Dinner’s almost ready. Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll join you in a moment.” 

You do as he asks, taking in the landscaping from your spot on the patio. It doesn’t take long for Mark to start bringing out the dishes, refusing your help. 

“I might’ve gone a little overboard,” he admits sheepishly as he brings out the final dish. The grilled asparagus should’ve been a giveaway, but you can’t help but feel touched when Mark places a lamb roast on the table.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” you say, throat closing with tears.

“How could I forget? It’s not every day you find a pretty girl crying quietly in the corner of the garage after a race –which we won by the way– because she missed her nan’s Sunday roast. She always made lamb, right?” Mark says. You nod and try to swallow back tears.

“Thanks Mark, this-.. This means a lot to me,” you whisper. Mark smiles softly and gives your hand a squeeze. 

During dinner, the conversation mainly revolves around catching up. Mark tells you all about managing McLaren’s rookie driver and how he’s finding it to work at Channel 4 with David. You update him on your appointment, showing the little sonogram picture. 

“So everything’s okay with the baby?” he asks, an anxious look in his eyes.

“Uhu, so far so good. They estimated that I’m about 7 weeks along now.” Mark looks back down at the picture on your phone, a large finger tracing it gently as he smiles. Seeing him so enamoured by the tiny blob on the sonogram brings up a mix of emotions for you; it warms your heart to see him like this, but it also terrifies you that those feelings for him never went away and how easy it is to fall back in step with him. 

“You’d look so hot in those maternity dresses,” Mark comments, his tone flirtatious, “You always look hot in a dress. I still dream about that pink one with the hearts you wore to dinner after Silverstone. You looked so innocent in that dress, but we both knew you were anything but.” 

And then he goes and says shit like that, and it all comes tumbling down like a house of cards. 

“I no longer dress for you, Mark. You lost that privilege a long time ago,” you retort, voice even but there’s an edge to it. You remember the dress he is talking about, remember what he is referring to. Before your food even arrived at the table, Mark had dragged you into the bathroom. He had made some comment about how pretty you looked but how you’d look even prettier on your knees with your mouth wrapped around his cock, and so that’s what you did. That was how your relationship worked: Mark would make a suggestive comment and you would obey without a second thought. Of course he always made sure he took care of you; he was the one who helped you discover you could experience multiple orgasms, would always clean you up afterwards and run you a bath. But despite all this, he always took what he wanted from you first. You wish you could have protected your younger self against the heartbreak that was headed your way, against the feeling of being lost at sea after Mark left you alone in that hotel room with nothing more than the remnants of his fingerprints on your skin. After the dust had settled, you had promised yourself never again; you would never allow yourself to be in that position again. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, breaking you from your spiralling thoughts, “for- I’m sorry for how it all went down, how I treated you. You deserved so much better than that,” he adds, referring to the note he left you after that final race in Brazil. 

“Why did you leave me?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Because I couldn’t drag you into my mess. You had your entire career still ahead of you while I needed to get out. That last season was a shitshow, despite the fact that Seb won the Driver’s and RedBull the Constructor’s. I was sick and tired of how the team favoured Seb. I had nothing left to give..” 

“You shut me out, I thought we were in it together.. Or was I just a means to get back at Sebastian?” It’s impossible to not sound bitter, hurt evident in your tone.

“No, Jesus, no sweetheart. You know it started out as a way to annoy him, but my feelings for you were genuine; I loved you, and in many ways still do.” Regret is written all over his face when your eyes meet his. You know your relationship back then was complicated. Of course there was the age gap –Mark is a good 13 years older than you– which somehow trickled into the bedroom where he showed you things that made your previous boyfriends look like clueless little boys by comparison. And as every naive 20-something-year-old with daddy issues would have done, you fell head over heels in love with him, giving him your heart and your body. 

“You broke a piece of me that day that I might not ever get back,” you whisper.

“And I will spend the rest of my life regretting the way I handled things. You’re right, I should’ve been open and honest with you instead of walking out on us,” Mark says, taking your hand in his.

“I’ve spent ten years avoiding you. The ghost of you haunted me in that garage and so when Mercedes called, I took it with both hands. I was a mess those first years, somehow still hoping you’d come back for me. And then it became painfully clear you weren’t and I mourned the loss of you all over again. I hated you for what you did to me, hated myself even more for ever allowing you to get close enough to hurt me, for still being in love with you despite it all. The last ten years I’ve spent building up walls so I wouldn’t have to feel like that version of me again, and look where that’s gotten me.” You laugh humorlessly, biting your lip to stop the tears from falling. “I have become the very definition of a cliche, entangled in a love square and too scared to let any of them in.” 

Before you really know what’s happening, Mark pulls you out of your seat and into his lap. Your legs dangle over the arm of the chair and you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

“I need you to listen carefully, okay sweetheart? If anyone deserves to take the blame for what happened, it’s me. And if you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how worthy of love you are. I know all three of us will. You might have a hard time letting us in right now, but baby you need to know that we’re all in if you are. You are worth waiting for.” You take a deep breath, inhaling his cologne. The scent of it helps to calm you down, it reminding you of the lazy mornings spent in bed cuddling. 

“You’re the second person to tell me that,” you mumble as you look up at him. Mark smiles, brushing away your tears with his thumb and cradles your cheek in his palm.

“Then it must be true.” 

You smile back at him, albeit timidly and snuggle into him once more. Alice’s words from a week prior echo in your head. “Keeping your heart shut like this, it’s safe but also lonely.” You’re beginning to wonder whether the cost has been far greater than the benefits of keeping romance at bay. Doing so hurt a good man; had you been able to allow Kevin in completely, you know he would have made you feel safe and loved. You also know Kevin deserves better –hell, you deserve better, but knowing and doing are two very different things, and right now you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready for this level of love –from any of them.  

Welp, there you have it. Date no.2 🙊

Again, a massive thank you to @curiousthyme and @szobosz for being my beta readers for this chapter, and a shoutout to @monzamash for helping me with figuring out the details for this date

Please feel free to let let me know what you think; your comments, tags and likes mean the absolute world to me 💜

I'm gonna take the holidays off from posting this fic to just relax (and maybe get some more writing done, who knows?), so the last date will be posted in the new year on the 6th. Wishing you all a merry Christmas and all the best for the new year!

[gravityr00m]

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[vonne-inc]

VONNE, INC. — PRODUCT: teasing.

sub!armin x fem!reader. uses of (y/n); she/her. thigh riding. hand-job.

armin whined, fingertips dancing along his clothed arousal, only enough pressure to ensure that he'd feel the strokes of pleasure, yet need more. it was tortuous to him, but he knew she'd unlikely stop. always, she had a fondness of teasing him - whether in public or in the behind closed doors, he figured she enjoyed seeing him blush or become flustered.

although, armin wouldn't deny that he liked that side of her.

"please.. i need more, (y/n).." he bucked his hips into her palm, only receiving a 'tsk' in return, "nuh-uh, not yet, pretty boy." she returned her hand back down to his boxers, her thumb rubbing over the covered tip. (y/n) smiled kindly, her actions showing otherwise, "this is your punishment, isn't it? after all, it is your fault you're in this mess."

he couldn't deny she was right, he did cause this upon himself. all over.. he couldn't even remember.. all his thoughts were focused on her movements. lust filling his senses; begging to be pleased more.

he muffled his whine, choking back as he furrowed his brows. armin had become desperate for any friction, any feeling of her against him, "can you- mm- can you, at least.." he struggled to get the words out of his mouth, her thumb rubbing harder than before. she titled her head, her freehand holding his thigh as her fingers massaged along his inner, "becoming a stuttering mess, all over me putting a little more pressure?.. i guess, i'll just have to—" removing her thumb from his tip, she looked at his frustrated gaze, "—stop."

as much as he wanted to protest against her actions, (y/n) would force him to say what he wanted either way. armin bit his tongue, "can you.. ride my thigh, please." (y/n) hummed, she wasn't opposed to it; they'd done it before, countless of times, though this was a punishment - but he asked so nicely.. she shook her head, "if you can be a good boy for me, then we can do anything you want."

the words seemed enough to motivate armin. he held his hands in the place she asked earlier; by his sides, gripping at the sheets. of course he wanted to touch her, feel her, and so much more - but if he could do anything he wanted after these events were over? he would just have to restrain himself.

as she applied more pressure, she stroked his shaft the best she could through the fabric. he'd been punished enough, the least she could do for him is let him have what he's begged for. pausing, she laced her fingers in the waistline, lowering the boxers enough for his erection to be freed. armin shivered, the sudden cool air against his cock surprised him. his dick twitched, practically begging for (y/n) to presume. she climbed out of her underwear, swiftly taking them off. her arousal had gotten the best of her; the growing wetness becoming unbearable for her comfort.

setting herself upon his exposed thigh, she groaned as she began grinding herself down. her clit brushed back and forth, the shocks of pleasure causing broken sounds to escape from her throat. moving her dominate hand to stroke armin, an airy moan echoed from him. whimpers escaped from his throat as he threw his head back at her fast strokes. he so close, desperate to release. feeling her wetness rub against his thigh made him further motivated to cum. all he wanted was to ravish her - to please her, have her shaking. even thinking about it made him pulse.

"f-fuck.. please- just like that-!" her thumb rubbing against the underside of his cock, trailing against his vein and upwards to his sensitive tip, was enough to cause him to break. "i-i'm gonna cum! please– don't stop, please!" thrusting his hips into her touch, his moans became all the louder. (y/n) could feel herself becoming closer too. she grinded herself further down, faster and sloppier, "cum with me, my love- cum with me!" her demand sounded more desperate than composed. though, she couldn't care either way - all she needed was to see him cum.

his breath hitched as she felt his hips stutter, strings if white shot out of his slit. spilling on her hand and forearm, dripping down to land on the sheets. his head began to feel dizzy as his cock still spurt out cum. his legs shook as his eyes began to water, "thank you– thank you for letting me cum.. thank you, thank you!" his desperate thanks were enough to cause (y/n)'s release. her breathing became heavier as she held her clit against his warm thigh, feeling her orgasm overcome her senses. her grip moved from his cock to his hand on the bed. as she rode out her orgasm, armin continued to send his thanks and praises to her - all of them going from one ear out the other.

"you helped me so well, miss.. i'm so happy." he kissed her neck as he slowly laid her down, climbing between her thighs as he looked up at her, "it's my turn now, isn't it, my darling?"

[yanderefarm]

It’s like way way back (couple days but like 50 posts) but 🥔’s thing about achilies and naga darling? Delicious, but instead of naga darling, I raise you one achilies x gorgon darling.

It’s the best of naga darling but with the added addition of more danger (looking in a gorgon’s eyes head on kinda turns you to stone) and the fact that the snakes for hair could make everything more 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

Just imagine, using the like 20 little snakes on him- oh the possibilities! The sensory deprivation of making him keep his eyes closed/ blindfold so he’s not turned to stone, using tons of tiny little tounges on his chest, the addition of gorgons possibly being like naga’s and having two scaly long dicks- the possibilities are endless.

Supernatural darling 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 + achilies 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 = mega 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

-🦑

this is the post

tbh i don't know a lot about gorgons i didn't even realize they were actually half snake people. i really love the idea of a bunch of little snakes kissing him and nipping at him like that lady from monster's inc. and he has to wear a blindfold so he never knows when you're going to surprise kiss him.

cw;; nsft, monsterfucking, oviposition

im just imagining cute things ik u want freak things. he's still your sacrificial bride but now he comes to you with a blindfold and his hands bound. he's not allowed to remove it, in fact he gets a special made eye covering that fits very snug. he doesn't know what you look like he only knows your voice and the feeling of your thick tail coiling around his body. he's always vulnerable and sensitive because of the blindfold, he reacts to every gentle touch so imagine his reaction to touches that aren't gentle.

imagine the first time you're mating him and you're biting and squeezing and scratching but he's so stuffed full on your thick scaly cocks he can't even scream properly. you can kiss him so deep while your hair bites him and makes him cry in pain. imagine completely wrapping around him, your hair even moving around his neck and giving him gentle kisses while you're pushing egg after egg into him. if mirrors mitigate the effects you could hold him in front of a mirror and make him watch as you fuck him, the first time he sees you.

[somefanficrecomendations]

February Monthly Recap

I had a lot of fics this month. Every one of these deserves a dedicated post of its own but in the interest of efficiency this roundup will have to do!

BATMAN

Uptown Girl by orphan_account (Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain), 60k, Case Fic, Friends to Lovers Stephanie Brown has three problems: a supervillain father with a deadly scavenger hunt in the works, a mysterious rich girl who's way too interested in her life, and one really, really painful hobby. Alternatively: a different kind of Spoiler origin story.

The Lois Angle by cabezas_de_vaca (gen), 15k, Bruce & Lois Friendship, Case Fic What she had with Bruce was novel, exhilarating. She had fallen in love several times, and that was like a great swoop of a wing, a flash and flush and then long tumble, but this was like a warmth that welled up from within. This was Bruce grappling up to her thirtieth story Metropolis apartment, stowing the Batsuit in the bathroom, and watching StarTrek with her. This was her driving to the manor when she couldn't sleep, only to find she could do it there. This was having a friend. Or: Despite the long shadow Batman casts and the demands of being one of the youngest Pulitzer winners ever, Bruce and Lois manage to steady each other, in the way that only friends can. Also, there's a case they need to solve. 

the scientific method by orphan_account (gen), 20k, Sibling Bonding, Duke-centric 5 stupid ways Duke's siblings discovered how his powers worked, and 1 time he figured it out for himself. "You have no idea," Dick said. "I had to live through all of their teenage years. They were each independently obsessed with Mythbusters at separate points in their life. I'm pretty sure Cass and Tim have wanted a meta to experiment on since they were 14, but Bruce always said no."

Meet Me Where You're Going by Hinn_Raven (Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain), 68k, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining When things get complicated in Hong Kong, Cass requests help from Batman Inc. Unbeknownst to her, Bruce dispatches not one of her brothers, but Stephanie Brown, who Cass has not spoken to since she gave up the Batgirl mantle. Steph is eager to reunite with her best friend, but things between them are complicated. Not the least of the problems is the fact that Steph might be falling in love… but of course, Cass is straight, so Steph really shouldn’t dwell on that. Friendship and romance, conspiracy and adventure await the two of them as they try to unravel a complicated plot that seeks to stop Batman Incorporated before it can truly begin.

when you move, fall like a thunderbolt by orphan_account (Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain), 5k, Villain!Steph, Canon Divergence In another universe, Stephanie Brown's plans to kill her father aren't interrupted by Batman. Which means nobody stops her from tripping and falling headlong into running her own gang, and then a little more intentionally rising to the top of the underworld. Meanwhile, seeing as Bruce only has one kid who actually wants to carry on the good name, Cassandra Cain takes over as the Batman of Gotham's future. This would be a fine turn of events if it weren't for the fact that they've been dating on-and-off for ten years.

falling without caution by coffeecrowns (gen), 17k, Bad Parent!Bruce, PTSD Jason is twenty, decidedly less into murder, trying to avoid developing agoraphobia, and putting together some pieces into a life. Tim is sixteen, riding the edge of burnout, and in a show of his truly baffling survival instincts, decides Jason is friend shaped. 

MICE ON VENUS by NEOCULTUREDAUS (gen), 3k, Tim & Damian Bonding “Timothy, if this is revenge for me trying to kill you, I need you to know I’m not sorry.” Damian’s eyes were clamped shut, hands fisting Tim’s hoodie so tightly that if Tim tried moving, he simply wouldn't be able to. “I’m not trying to get revenge. And open your eyes, you can’t ride a skateboard with them closed.” Tim patronized, prying Damian’s hands off him, you know, like someone evil who didn’t care for the wellbeing of his younger brother. Or The one where skater Tim takes his artist younger brother graffiti painting

So Sweet Saluteth Me by Lishalalalalala (gen), 7k, Good Dad!Bruce Sleep deprived™ Jason hangs out with Dick then they surprise Bruce at work with early lunch and some love. This fic is inspired by farmers’ markets on those summery days and the belief that if I run fast enough the sad can never catch me. (I mean you are telling me that Bruce Thomas/Alan Wayne wouldn’t be absolutely BASKING in joy if his kids just decided to randomly show up at Wayne Enterprise and pay him a little midday visit? )

to count by miles or days or people (when will i stop missing you) by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep (gen), 22k, Angst, Hurt/Comfort When Duke is kidnapped off of the streets of Gotham on his way back to the Manor from visiting his parents, it sends the entire Batfamily into a panic. With very little evidence to go on and time slipping past them, there's no help coming as Duke is forced to make a grand escape and get himself home before his kidnappers find him once more.

birds and brothers and other assorted synonyms by Ao3time, hoebiwan, quandaries_and_contradictions (gen), 21k, Series, Found Family A Reverse Robin AU in which Damian is a tired older brother, Duke is a ray of sunshine, and Dick is a baby talon.

Emergency rooms and chicken nuggets by Lilac_hyacinth (Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake) 7k “So…” Duke drawled, sounding suspiciously wide-awake for the day shift kid at two-thirty in the morning. “If I said Damian and I are in a bit of trouble, on a scale of Jason to Cass, how likely are you to kill us?” Clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes to try to wake himself up, Tim grimaced. “What the fuck did you do?” “Nothing.” Or Tim and Bernard get out of bed at two in the morning to go across town and pick up Tim's reckless little brothers.

Pick a Pocket Full of Pennies by Trekkele (gen), 24k, Found Family, Fluff, AU-No Powers The life and times of Dick Grayson, unintentional ringleader to a gang of pickpockets, and how he learned to let go and get adopted. Or something. 

SPIDER-MAN

Death Before Inaction by hppjmxrgosg (gen), 37k, BAMF Peter Parker, WIP “Fuck off, Nicky.” “Hasn’t anyone ever told you spider-napping is illegal?” “You can’t hold me here, I know my spider-rights.” “God, you guys are so old. What are you? Like 27?” “Scale of 1 to 10, how upset would you be if I told you I banged your mom?” - Or, I got my grubby little hands on the spider-man time line and fucked around a little bit. Not much (everything) changes.

[vechter]

hi i was wondering what you'd think tim's ideal career would be? i love imagining he retired after bruce came back from time-travel, and decided to go to college and live his best civilian life... <3 and i like imagining all the batkids end up being tied into medicine/healthcare somehow, so maybe tim would be a biomedical engineer or something, but i really wanna know your ideas! pro photographer? archaeologist like his parents?? nudist camp administrator??? i'll hear u out on anything!!!

ur so sweet anon <3 also nudist camp administrator lmaooo asjsjsjkjskkkk i would love to see that

tbh, i do have the semblance of a character arc for tim if n52 hadn't happened. while i love the notion of him going full civilian, the way red robin ends gives me very little hope that that's something he'll be able to do... :(

in my ideal world, bruce finishes setting up batman inc. and everybody can kind of relax a little about saving gotham.

tim ends up moving to san francisco full time after dick basically drags him out by the ear. they have a long and exhausting conversation where dick is the biggest hypocrite in the world and tells tim how important it is to have a life outside of the mask. tim alludes to how wearing red robin during brucequest often felt like some weird kind of self-imposed biblical punishment but it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. there's a painful segue into how tim had no back up plan for saving his own life after ra's threw him out of the window and dick tells him that tim can't do that to him because he'll always catch tim but what if one day, he can't? tim needs to have something to live for outside of vigilantism bc neither of them want to end up as obsessive and fucked up as bruce.

also rlly want a conversation between bruce and tim about him buying the monarch theatre apartment. it goes... poorly. but things do settle down between bruce n him when tim says he's considering college.

he ends up taking a few introductory classes at a community college in SF, spends a lot of time skateboarding and trying to reconnect to photography. prolly sets up a west coast HQ for neon knights. some absolutely unmatched pathetic-boy-rizz from him with tam as she helps in sorting some of that out.

he and cassie spend time lazing about in the tower and talking about how kon and bart are back but it can still feel like a dream sometimes. they probably end up getting young justice going again. rlly need some unmatched homoerotic vibes going on with lonnie, who gives tim intel in the weirdest ways possible. also rlly want a long-term plot where he and prudence work together again to deal with some loa bullshit where they both are trying not to betray each other and they end up succeeding because of the power of friendship <3

six months in, tim kinda feels too far away from gotham so he ends up moving to new york bc it's closer to gotham but he's still not as entrenched in the bruce of it all. definitely takes classes at hudson even if he can't commit to college full time (peak little brother behaviour to follow ur brother's footsteps). bruce only sighs in exasperation bc none of his kids are going to finish college— he still has hope for damian, tho.

maybe he hunkers down to finish getting a degree, maybe he doesn't. but i can definitely see him going into outreach work of some sort— he has great people instincts! if he doesn't put his foot in his mouth, he's soooo likeable and endearing. rlly like your idea of him becoming a part-time biomedical engineer... he canonically enjoys fiddling with tech and gear. BRING BACK CLENCH TRAUMA!!!

anyway, this became way tooooo long but tbh, i could see him in a lot of potential careers but they would all be part-time. he's forever answering distress calls from gotham. i would pay serious money for someone to write a fic about him being a nudist camp administrator that's so fucking funny

[rakurairagnarok]

Hi there, I’m just beginning as a bodybuilder and I was wondering if you had anything that would help me grow bigger and get an edge over my competitors?

An edge over your competition you say? Well... Here at Rakurai Inc. we have something that might help with that.

As you get out of the shower after another intense workout, you hear your doorbell ring.

"Who could that be?" You ask out loud.

You walk to the front door, and looking through the peephole you see a small package in front of it.

You take it inside and look over it to find a small stamp with Rakurai Inc. on it. Opening the box, you find a large black massage gun inside, alongside a small note.

"Dear @musclejedi7 , we heard you were getting into the bodybuilding scene and hoped you could help us promote the company by sending you a new prototype massage gun. For optimal use please use within 30 minutes of your workout!. We wish you a transformative journey!!!"

You smirk. You had been getting pretty big, so ofcourse companies were gonna throw themselves at you to get more money.

You look at the time and sigh. It had already been 35 minutes after you finished working out, but you figured it wouldn't matter that much. After all, you had never heard of an 'optimal' time to use a massage gun before.

You turned it on and, since it was chest day today, put it against your sore pecs. Immediately waves of pain and pleasure soared through your body. Your eyes rolled back and a soft moan escaped your mouth.

"FuUuUuUck"

You looked down and chuckled. It was probably due to the gun pounding away at your pecs, but they were looking much bigger.

You continued running the massage gun across various parts of your body, the pleasure increasing in intensity. You bit down on your lip.

"Damn this feels amazing, but, my chest... has it always been this big?" You ask yourself as you look down again. You had been growing steadily but your tits looked much bigger than they did after the workout and you were already past the pump. Wait... tits?

You never called them that. They are pec...pect...pectits? Your eyes widened. Your brain was rambling for the proper term but it couldn't find it. You looked at your guns, no, not guns bi... bis... guns. The massage gun was doing its magic against your massive...GUNS.

You flex your arms, the guns growing. You chuckle again.

"Huhu so big"

NO! WHAT??

Your mind is racing. What is happening. You can't think of the correct names of muscle groups, and now you're just sitting there giggling like an idiot?

Your arm makes the gun move down to your legs, which immediatly send more pleasure to your overworking brain. A fun idea pops in your haze ridden mind, and you move the gun to your glu... glu... booty. What the fuck!!! As the gun touches the soft bubbly meat of your perky booty, your knees buckle in pleasure. You drop to the floor as the gun pounds away at your flesh, and for the first time you actually see what is happening. Your previously perky butt, which was barely bubbling due to the gun, was now visibly growing!

It got bigger and bigger, sending move waves into your already overheated brain. More chuckles escaped your slacked mouth, drool dripping down your lips. You accidentally increase the setting as you make the gun travel across your whole body, the pleasure stopping any brain activity to a screeching halt. Eventually getting so overwhelmed that you drop the gun, seemingly breaking it in the process as it stops vibrating.

You grab your groin with one meaty hand and your massive cheeks with the other. Your dick is already on the verge and your slow and mushy brain can only think of one thing to release it. You slip a finger into your hole, and cum. You keep shooting , on the floor, over your gi.. gi... big ass muscle tits, on your face, on the couch. Any sense of selfrespect and decency leaving your body with the creamy, delicious liquid.

You wanted an edge on the competition. Well you will be edging alright. You're the biggest after all, muscles, ass, libido, and biggest bottom the world has ever seen. You can still compete don't worry but I doubt your brain will be able to last on stage with all those massive cocks around you. All you will be thinking of is ways to get as many inside you as you can right?