#fic: Cleaning Messes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unfinishedslurs · 4 days ago

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every robin gets a freebie

reverse robins in the aftermath of the death of filipe garzonas

A CD was in the mail within the next week, blank but for a note that slipped out when the envelope was opened. You should really trust in your birds more often, B. Learn from your mistakes for once.

Jason felt bile in his throat. It was body cam footage, blurry and half obscured, of Robin and Garzonas on the roof. Footage that still clearly showed Garzonas taking a too-far step back, Robin lunging to reach him, and then…

But that’s not what happened, Jason doesn’t say. His tongue feels swollen and thick in his mouth.

Batman takes off the cowl solemnly. “Jaylad,” he says. “Jason. I’m so sorry for doubting you. I never should have…”

He can’t be here anymore. He can’t be in this cave, can’t stand Bruce looking at him like that, can’t stand to even be in the vicinity of the Robin uniform he no longer deserves.

He bolts for the exit.

“Jason!” he hears Bruce call, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. Not even when he nearly runs into Alfred, not when Damian tries to grasp his arm, not when Duke asks him what’s wrong or when Tim yelps in surprise and drops his cane jumping out of the way. He just runs, out the manor door and into the night.

For a split second the figure on the roof is overlaid with Gloria. Beautiful, resigned Gloria, who was so scared of what Felipe would do to her that she would do anything to stop it.

Then he blinks, and he’s on the rooftop with the Spoiler.

“Relax,” Spoiler says, “I’m not gonna jump. I'm only three steps into my five-step plan for world dominance. Can’t leave that unfinished. Imagine the paperwork.”

“I dunno.” Jason’s hands are shaking. “You seem like the kinda freak who would enjoy that.”

Spoiler lowers her mask, and Stephanie Brown smiles at him.

“How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“You know.” His voice wavers. “You know. You know what I did. How did you…why did you…what was the reason?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!”

“Call it tradition then, I guess.” Steph sounds almost amused. “Robin’s flock together.”

“But you don’t like me.”

“Who told you that?”

No one, but she doesn’t exactly go out of her way to talk to Jason. He just kind of assumed.

Tim’s awkward around him. Sometimes they’re fine, like when he wandered into the library where Jason was and asked if he wanted to get ice cream together. Other times he wouldn’t see him for three weeks. Jason tries not to think about the nights Tim has had dreams that left him cackling loud enough to wake Jason up the couple times he’s stayed the night at the Nest, or the things he heard Tim shout about little birds and broken nests when he was fear gassed.

It kind of sucks, being your brother's biggest trigger.

(Those three weeks may be a case of mutual avoidance, but Jason will never admit it.)

When he doesn’t say anything, Steph sighs. “How much do you know about when I was Robin?”

“Uh,” he says, caught off guard, “not much, I guess?” He knows that it was because something was going on with Tim. That’s about it, really. He asked once, when he was still new to Robin and the Manor. He didn’t ask again after he saw the look on Tim’s face.

“Bruce didn’t really want me. Damian didn’t think I was worthy of the mantle, and took every chance he could to remind me. Tim was pissed at me for it. None of them wanted me there, and I tried so hard to prove them wrong. To be the Robin I knew I could be.”

That…can’t be right. The few times he had asked about Stephanie Brown, Tim had nothing but good words to say. Bruce and Damian spent so much time wallowing in their regrets it was insane. For her to say nobody wanted her there, when her absence was a shadow that followed them constantly around Wayne Manor, was baffling.

Steph looks down at the helmet in her hands. “All I wanted was their approval, and it made me stupid. I overestimated myself. That’s how you get killed in this game, kid. Don’t get too cocky for your britches, and all that.”

Jason is shaking again by the time they get to the Nest. He hesitates at the window, sending a pleading look to Spoiler that she completely ignores ushering him in.

Tim spins around in his tricked out gaming chair, frown pulling oddly against the wide scars on his cheeks. He flicks his comm off. “Steph?” Then his eyes found Jason. “Jason! Thank God, we were starting to get worried about you. Duke told everyone to give you space, but…”

His mouth is too dry to say anything in response, so he just shrugs. Tim tilts his head, examining him, before looking at Spoiler questioningly.

She takes off her mask again, lowering her hood and shaking out her hair. “We need some help,” she explains, and nudges Jason forward.

He stays stubbornly in his place, head tilted towards the floor. Steph sighs. “If you don’t tell him,” she says, “I will.”

He whips his head around. “You promised!”

“My name is literally The Spoiler.” She bares her teeth at him. “I get that you’re nervous, kid, but I do not have time for this.”

“For what?” Tim says. God, Tim’s going to be like a dog with a bone with this. He’s never met a mystery he didn’t want to solve. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I killed Filipe!” He blurts out and freezes, moving immediately to hide behind Spoiler. She doesn’t let him, grabbing his shoulder and holding him firmly to the spot.

Tim gapes at him. “You…” he trails off, slowly turning to Steph, who holds his gaze steadily. “The footage?”

“I have connections.”

“Of course you do.” He rubs a hand over his face. “How are we playing this?

What?

“We keep going along with what’s been presented to him,” Spoiler responds without hesitation. “B’s paranoid, but he’s also the king of denial. There’s no doctoring on the tape itself, he won’t look any deeper.”

“And Damian?”

“Like he gives a shit.”

“True,” he admits. “Duke wouldn’t care enough to check either way, so that just leaves Cass.”

Steph swears. “Fuck, Cass. Do you think she’ll say something?”

“Yes. Ugh, yes she will. Fuck.”

“Think you can talk some sense into her?”

“Maybe.” He squints at Jason. “I’ll probably play up the ‘ridden by guilt�� and ‘will never happen again’ angle. He definitely reads it.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Jason finally says, lungs fighting for air. “I—I killed someone!”

“Not according to Bruce, you didn’t.” Tim tells him.

“You want me to lie?”

“Yes.”

He looks at Steph imploringly, begging her to explain, but she doesn’t even look at him. “Chill out, kid,” she says, “We all get a freebie.”

“Damian got more than a freebie,” Tim points out.

“He’d tell you it was his right as the blood son.”

“Stop joking!” He shouts, chest heaving for air. “Just—stop it! Why aren’t you telling Bruce? Why are you making plans to lie to him? What’s wrong with you?”

Tim exchanges a heavy look at Steph, before reaching his hand out to Jason. Jason takes it, trembling.

“Plenty of vigilantes have to make hard choices when it comes to stopping people the law can’t touch,” he tells Jason gently. “I work with people who all choose different things. When it comes to people like Garzonas, who will keep doing it over and over with no remorse…it’s not a method I recommend, but sometimes there’s only one way to stop them. If Robin made that choice, I wouldn’t blame him.”

He can’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes, because this is Tim Drake saying it. Damian was the first Robin, yeah, and Steph left her undeniable mark with her cheer and wit, but Tim wore the mantle twice. He made it into something new, something a bit brighter in the dark nights. Then, after Steph, he made it into a memory. Bright yellow for her hair. Red for Superboy. Even after they both came back Jason wore their colors, because Robin was persistence, and spirit, and clever words followed by hard punches, and bravery and a million other things, but it was also hope and love and remembrance for the lost.

He wouldn’t forget that. “Why are you so okay with this?”

“You know I’ve had to make that choice too.”

Jason almost laughs, but refrains. He’s heard the stories. “Never sounded like much of a choice.”

“It was.” His eyes snap to Tim’s at the sudden edge to his voice, and Tim meets his eyes carefully. “I was fully aware of what I was doing. It’s not something I’ll ever do again, but it was my choice, and I won’t have that taken from me.”

“I don’t think I can be Robin anymore.”

“Well, we all have to give it up sometimes.”

“Are we really doing this?” Tim asks, after he thinks Jason has fallen asleep.

Jokes on him, Jason doesn’t think he’s gonna sleep ever again.

“Are you seriously getting cold feet now? I thought you loved lying to Bruce.”

“I don’t love lying to Bruce, it’s just—“

“‘—necessary sometimes,’” she finishes. “Whatever. Like you don’t love the thrill of it.”

Tim doesn’t bother denying it. “This isn’t just lying to B, Steph. This is—are we really going to cover up a murder?”

The room drops ten degrees.

“If you’re not going to back me on this, we can go somewhere else. Don’t want you getting your hands dirty or anything,” she sneers.

“You know I’ve always got your back,” Tim says. Jason thinks back to what Spoiler told him earlier about her time as Robin, and wonders if that might not be as irrefutable a truth as he’d always thought it was. “I’m worried about Jason.”

“You wouldn’t need to be if you would just help him out—“

“You saw him. The kid looks like a ghost. He looks like I did. Don’t—no, Steph, I’m serious. I’m worried about him. At least I didn’t have to hide that I killed the Joker. You think keeping this bottled up will be good for him? It’s going to kill him.”

“The alternative is telling Batman that his precious Robin killed someone. You remember how that went last time?”

There’s a long pause, and then he hears Tim hiss an exhalation behind clenched teeth. “Don’t bring that into this. Jason’s not me.”

“That’s the fucking problem. You were his golden boy—“

“Seriously? You think I was the golden boy?”

“I’m hardly his favorite,” Tim scoffs. “Jason is.”

There’s a shocked silence. Then Stephanie scoffs. “You can’t seriously be jealous.“

“I’m trying to tell you it’ll be different from me. Have you seen him with Jason?” He waits, but Steph doesn’t answer. “He laughs. He laughs, he smiles, he’s fucking…happy. Jason makes him happy. I never did that. None of us ever—“

“Jesus, Tim,” Steph says roughly. “You made him plenty happy. Damian, Cass, Duke, you all make him laugh—“

“Not like Jason does.”

“You willing to risk the kid on that?”

A beat, and Tim sighs. “No. But it’s different now. Jason has us. All of us. It wouldn’t be like last time.”

“Jason’s not me.” He pauses, almost like he’s debating what he’ll say next, before he says, “He’s not you, either.”

Steph stays silent for so long Jason wonders if she climbed out the window and left.

Finally, she exhales. “He’s not you, and he’s not me,” she agrees, “but Bruce is always going to be Bruce.”

They sit in silence for a long moment. Finally Steph speaks up. “Are you really jealous of him?”

“No, Steph. Jesus.”

“You’re such a liar.” It’s affectionate this time, though, clearly poking fun.

Tim sighs, heavier than the teasing warrants. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and it’s not you, I just…I was never able to give up Robin on my own terms. I never…I never got to feel like I was putting it down. It never stopped feeling like—“

Stephanie doesn’t say anything. Eventually, one of the chairs slides back, and Jason hears a cane clacking on the ground. A cabinet opens. “Did you want coffee?”

“What happened to those awful sodas you were addicted to?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t want one,” Tim responds, voice dry. There’s no indication of their discussion in either of their tones. “Considering the first thing you ever did in this apartment was go through all my stuff and make fun of my taste.”

“Fuck it. I’m feeling abominable tonight, I should have something to fit the mood.”

“Shut up.” The fridge opens and shuts, and there’s a quiet thunk like a hand catching something out of midair. Then two drinks crack open.

“God, I forgot how awful these were.”

(some undetermined amount of time later)

Bruce: Dick you can’t kill Tony Zucco. Batman and Robin do not kill.

Dick: Steph said Robin gets a freebie >:(

Bruce:

Bruce: STEPHANIE-

#OKAY SO I HAD A TON OF THOUGHTS ON THE LINEUP OF THESE CHARACTERS AND THIS UNIVERSE AND I AM GOING TO PUT THEM HERE #duke joined batman first at 16 as signal- he's more of a barbara figure than anything else really bc he operates seperately from batman #but still works with him. (instead of we are robin it is we are batman. not as catchy 😔)#but he doesn't take the place of oracle and when bruce goes missing later he's the one who becomes batman. rip duke sorry man 🙏#damian as nightwing obvs #tim as the second robin then the fourth when steph dies to black mask while he's grounded #stephanie brown as the red hood #at least a stand in for him- she goes back to her identity as spoiler #while tim is operating as robin again. after her death he gets kidnapped by the joker becomes jj and shoots him #he's left disabled by the electrocution and torture and can't go out into the field so he becomes oracle #cass is batgirl rn and will still become black bat #and bruce is. u know. bruce #it was always my plan for this fic for jason to be overwhelmed with the guilt and come clean to bruce but because he has a much wider #support system and bruce has now had multiple children who have killed and so it doesn't go WELL but it doesn't go as badly as it would #in canon. bruce tells him he'll always love him but batman and robin cannot kill and jason agrees and thus moves on from robin #i make this sound calm. it would not be calm. but in my mind he's right about this batman and robin SHOULDN'T kill #bruce is also incredibly pissed at Tim and Steph for trying to get Jason to lie about killing a man #Noooot their best look even if their hearts were in the right place #i <3 mess + drama and bitterness #batfam fanfic #jason todd #stephanie brown #tim drake #reverse robins #also i'm not trying to cheapen dick's reasoning for naming himself robin. in my mind the og dick's love for his parents is so strong #it transcends time and space and makes it so that robin is ALWAYS a symbol of love and hope #and so i want to keep that spirit even when he isn't the first robin. later when he joins he will make the title his own #with his own extremely personal meaning behind it #in universe tho damian went out on the first day of spring to symbolize new beginnings #and the papers started calling him robin for the first bird of spring

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9haharharley1 · 1 year ago

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7 and 10 though? 👀👌 Some of my faves

With love, Fang

Ha! I told myself I was gonna do mermay this year, and I did! Take that executive dysfunction!!

Have some monster fucking! I hope this is ok!!

7. You can take it. And 10. Spread your legs wider

---

He hadn't expected being friends with a sea monster to go this way.

Really, Jack hadn't had any clue what way being friends with a sea monster was suppose to go, but laid out on a sun- warmed rock, quickly cooling under him as the sun set rapidly past the horizon, with one leg thrown over said sea monster's shoulder as a tongue, long and smoother than it had any right to be worked over his cock, Jack was pretty sure things didn't normally go like this. He gasped as his flesh was licked over, wet heat descending on him, and his back arched off the rock. His fingers clawed at the rough surface of the rock, finding no purchase. Instead, he lifted one shaking hand to his head, grabbing at his own wet hair and tugging in an effort to bring back thought.

"Pitch!" he cried out as his length was swallowed, sharp teeth barely grazing sensitive skin. A shock of fear coursed through him, making his whole body shake more than the cold water on his skin, and he couldn't stifle a moan as he tried to buck further into that mouth. Those teeth should be nowhere near his skin, certainly not wrapped around his most sensitive area, but the danger was what had initially led him to even meeting Pitch; it's part of what appealed to him when he decided he wanted to stay friends with the sea creature, and the danger certainly appealed to him when Pitch moaned low in his throat as he sucked him in, his nose burying in the soft curls at the base of Jack's member. Pitch could kill him in a hundred different ways, be it with teeth or claws or even drowning if he felt like being boring about it. Instead, he chose to press his weight down on Jack's hips with gentle hands, careful of his claws nicking into soft flesh. He held Jack in place so the little human wouldn't be tempted to buck wildly in his mouth and cut himself on sharp teeth, and Jack appreciated that immensely.

It was also agonizingly frustrating.

"Oh, god, Pitch, please!"

The hand that wasn't in his own hair sought the creature between his legs, back arching as Pitch licked him from root to tip, long tongue wrapped around his cock along with his lips. Jack's hand found feathery black hair, taking a handful to just hold on for dear life as Pitch gave him pleasure like he had never felt before. Pitch hummed in his throat, low and guttural, the vibrations traveling down Jack's length and straight to his core. He gasped and arched, yanking at his own hair as Pitch swallowed around him. His orgasm hit him, making him nearly scream from the unexpected force of it. Pitch hummed again, delighted, and Jack gasped as he tried to get his body to relax after going completely rigid. Pitch kept sucking and licking at him, Jack well past the point of over-sensitive, and he kicked his leg against the sea monster's back.

"N-no more," he cried out weakly.

What sounded like a huff of laughter escaped his friend, and Pitch slowly pulled away. His tongue was still wrapped around Jack's cock, dangling out of Pitch's mouth as the shadowy creature met his gaze, grinning. His tongue slid slowly from him, Jack moaning and biting his lip. He was unable to look away from that bright gaze.

Pitch had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They were the first thing he had seen, glowing gold in a sea of black where Jack had been diving off shore. There was a cave system at the base of the cliffs, an old lighthouse standing guard, and Jack loved to explore their depths. The water was just deep enough to hide some old sailing ships just below the surface, and Jack had taken to exploring their holds. The old boats were already picked clean by scavengers and researchers of anything that could have once been of value, but Jack simply enjoyed diving for the love of it, and being able to swim through the old halls and rooms of the wreckage was as thrilling as diving through any cave. The sea life that grew there was new and fascinating, the fish he met always breathtaking in their otherworldly beauty. The ocean called to him, and Jack was easily pulled along by her will.

It was in the dark halls of one of these ships that he met Pitch.

The sun was setting, Jack reluctantly maneuvering his way through the ship to leave and head home when he felt a chill. It wasn't the usual chill that came from being so deep in the water, nor was it from how far north these waters were. He was used to the cold by now and had grown up swimming in these cold waters that he knew the proper precautions to take. He knew what wetsuits to wear at any given time of the day. He knew when to return to the surface and how often to check his oxygen tanks. He knew first and foremost not to panic.

So that was, of course, the first thing he did.

His instincts screamed at him that there was danger nearby, despite him having not seen any sort of predators in the area after diving there a hundred times now. He managed to keep his heart rate under control long enough to swim through the wreckage, but as he came upon the nearest exit, his way was blocked.

A body, one he had never seen before and only heard about in fairy tales and horror stories from old seamen, floated just inside the entrance to the ship. It's body was a large inky mass, blocking out what little light filtered down this far, and had it not been for the small flashlight clipped to Jack's suit, he would have been trapped in complete darkness. The mass in front of him writhed in a way that made his stomach twist in anxiety, tendrils of black weaving every which way in the dark, making the creature seem even bigger. His little light could only reveal an inky black body, barely noticeably shimmering in the light like wet velvet. The thing drifted closer to him, and Jack kicked back hard away from it.

His light glanced off the thing as he swam back, plunging it in darkness once more. Two glowing eyes peered at him, pupils slit vertically like a snake, predatory. Jack froze under their gaze, his body seizing in fear as the mass pushed closer.

He had been terrified that day, paralyzed by those glowing eyes and his own fear. He couldn't look away as the creature circled him, turning slowly with it to maintain eye contact. His oxygen levels were quickly lowering as his breathing continued to spike, chest heaving. When the monster moved closer, invading his personal, Jack's back hit a wall, trying to get away. His heavy breaths came faster, and those glowing eyes blinked slowly at him. The creature tilted its head.

Suddenly, Jack gasped audibly as he was wrapped in something simultaneously firm and squishy. His breather fell from his mouth, Jack sucking in a lungful of cold, salty water. He first reaction was to cough, horror growing within him when he tried to reach up but found his arms bound by his sides. He struggled, tears filling his eyes as panic made him breathe in more water. His vision quickly darkened, barely noticing the rush of water around him as the thing around him tightened.

One second, he was against the wall of an old ship. The next, he was laid out on a bed of sand, two palms pressed to his chest and pushing. He quickly rolled to his side, vomiting up water and coughing violently. A hand rubbed his back as Jack pressed his head to cool sand, breathing heavy and ragged. It took him a minute to register his oxygen tank was no longer strapped to his back.

When he finally had enough strength back to look over his shoulder, he realized the sun had set completely during his panic attack under the waves. Two brilliantly gold eyes stared down at him, unblinking. Jack's breathing picked up as he realized the creature was hovering over him in the sand. It could breathe air, too?

He tried to crawl away, weak hands grasping at sand, but the thing tilted its head, surprisingly human in nature. A hand, strong and firm - human, save for the claws - nothing like whatever had been wrapped around him in the ship, was placed on his shoulder and stilled his struggles.

"Breathe," the creature murmured. Its voice was silky and soft, distinctly masculine, and it sent shivers down Jack's spine. He told himself it was just from the cold and almost drowning, too stunned the thing could speak at all. "Rest."

Jack couldn't look away from those eyes.

It wasn't until he realized that something was wrapped firm around his leg, writhing in a way that was distinctly inhuman, that he finally managed to tear his eyes away. He tried to sit up, to look down at whatever had a hold of him, but the creature recoiled. Whatever had a grip on him loosened and slid away, the inhuman eyes disappearing in the dark.

"W... Wait!" Jack sat up as he heard a splash in the waves lapping gently at the beach, realizing too late the creature was gone.

It had taken him several more minutes before he managed to stand on steady legs again, gathering his discarded gear to hike back up to his house. He waved off his mother's concerns and his sister's questions, going through the motions of storing his gear, showering, and eating dinner. All the while, he thought of his encounter, of gold eyes and black shadows. He fell into bed with the ghost of a touch on his leg and wrapped himself in his blankets to mimic the feel of... something wrapped around him, but it didn't envelop him near as tight as the creature had, and he drifted off into a troubled sleep, dreams filled with gold.

He lasted two days before his curiosity got the better of him.

Jack double and triple checked his gear before heading down to the ocean, hesitating for only a minute or two before shaking his head at his own ridiculousness and plunging in. Drowning was an occupational hazard when it came to diving, and he refused to let one incident hold him back.

Especially when he had a possible sea monster to find.

Jack gasped as suckers pulled at his skin, sticking to him and popping as they released. He squirmed under their sticky exploration of him, arching into the one sliding over his chest. It slid over his nipples, catching on each nub individually, making him moan. A long tongue licked over him, where leg met hip, by-passing his twitching length, over his stomach. It dipped into his navel, flicking in and out, and Jack quivered. More tentacles crept over his skin, snaking over his arms. The one on his chest settled decisively over both nipples, pulling incrementally so his nipples were tugged with each short pull of the arm. It made Jack whine, arching and writhing as he tried to escape the constant push and pull of pressure. That long tongue licked up from his belly, up his chest, the suckers pulling off on one side so Pitch could get his mouth on it instead. Jack threw his head as he moaned loudly.

He was glad they were so far from shore. No one would be able to hear him this far in the rocky outcroppings, especially with the sun casting its last few rays over the horizon. Ha wouldn't be able to see much of anything either, save for Pitch's glowing yellow eyes, but that was part of what made it so fun.

Teeth sank into the meat of his chest around his nipple, sharp and piercing, and Jack screamed. The tendrils on his arms held him in place as he jerked, intending to push Pitch's head away, but the creature soothed the mark with his hot tongue, licking over the punctures and sucking. He moaned as he did, sounding almost feral. Jack wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling the bigger male closer, careful to avoid the slats of gills on his ribs. He rubbed himself against the sticky-smooth shadow that made up Pitch's lower half, only a little put-off by the fact he didn't feel a matching hardness from Pitch. It helped to return some blood back to his brain and remember that Pitch didn't have the same kind of anatomy. Jack knew that. He had done extensive research on that.

Pitch trailed kisses from his aching chest, Jack arching as the suckers returned to his nipple to resume their attentions, kissing and licking up his neck. He turned his head with a pleased sigh, giving the sea monster more room to work. A giggle huffed out of him as Pitch licked at his ear.

"You beautiful thing..." whispered Pitch, sharp teeth nipping the lobe. "You really don't mind all this, do you?" He kissed Jack's cheek.

Jack turned his head to meet him, catching those lips with his own, tasting the sea and adoring every second of it. He licked into Pitch's mouth, meeting that long tongue with his own short and stubby one. Moaning as it wrapped around his to suck, Jack rutted a little harder against his waist, his cock starting to swell with renewed interest. A tentacle rested at the dip of his leg and hip, rubbing up and down as though stroking itself. Jack's cheeks went red as he thought of which of Pitch's arms it might be, and he pulled away, sucking on Pitch's long tongue as he did until it slipped free with a light pop.

"Wh-why would I?" Jack muttered back. The back of a clawed finger stroked down his cheek, Jack leaning into it. "You're hot, and I'm interested. That sounds like a good time to me." He gave a shaky grin.

Pitch stared down at him with those bright eyes. "Last chance to back out of this, Jack." He kissed trembling lips once again. "Surely you have plenty of suitors waiting for you on land."

Jack scoffed. "Suitors? What are you, a hundred years old?" When Pitch looked back up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, Jack's eyes having adjusted enough to see his mouth pull taught. He looked away. "Dont... don't answer that." He tugged at the binds of his arms, the tendrils not budging save to get a better grip on him. "A-Anyway, you don't seem like you'll let me go anytime soon."

Pitch leaned in close as he tilted Jack to face him with a warm hand on his cheek, hovering just over Jack's lips. "Do you want me to let you go?" he asked softly.

Jack met his bright eyes, his breathing shaky, his body spasming under the constant pull at his skin from the various suckers on his body. His palm was hot, his thumb tingling on his skin where it stroked his cheek. The hold on his arms was firm; he couldn't break free if he tried, but it wasn't bruising. If Pitch wanted to snap him like a twig, he could; he'd seen those monstrous tendrils stop and break a charging bull shark that swam a little too far north over the summer in half. Pitch nearly caused him to drown when they first met. The eight arms that made up his lower half had left behind bruises ten times over as they had gotten to know each other, until Pitch figured out the correct amount to pressure to apply to hold him without hurting him.

Jack had no doubt that he would let go if he told him to.

Instead, he smiled, wiggling one arm until Pitch got the hint and released it. Jack reached up to place it to his sea monster's shadowy cheek. He smiled as Pitch leaned into his touch, closing his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said softly. Pitch opened bright eyes again to stare down at him. His fingers slid back into feather-soft hair, tugging. "Kiss me?"

Pitch did.

He wasted no time devouring Jack's lips for his own, angling his head just right to plunge his tongue into his mouth. They both moaned, Jack's writhing renewed with a vengeance as the suckers sticking to his body continued their exploration with loud, vulgar pop's all over his skin. The other hand found his hip, gripping hard with a dig of nails into soft flesh to encourage him to move against Pitch once more. The tentacle that rubbed over his crotch - the only one with no suckers at the end of it - circled his dick, squeezing gently. Jack threw his head back with a gasping moan, pulling away from Pitch's mouth so the big octopus could latch onto his neck, teeth digging in and piercing thin skin. Jack screamed.

"What the fu-uck..." he trailed off with a moan as Pitch attached his lips to the spot and sucked, licking over the wound. He then trailed kisses back down his neck, over his chest, and down his belly. All the while, the tendril wrapped around his length jerked him in long, smooth pulls, Jack hearing Pitch's breathing stutter just so. His face was aflame once again by the time Pitch settled over his crotch, shrieking as that hot tongue licked the tip of him to poke inside the hole.

"Gods, you taste wonderful..." Pitch growled into the night. He licked along Jack's thigh, teeth leaving light scratches as he nipped at his skin. All around them was silent, save for the gentle crash if waves on the rocks, of Pitch's large body slipping in and out of the water. Every time Jack's skin started to dry in the cool night air, tightening uncomfortably from the salt water, another splash of water would rush over him, dripping from one of Pitch's many appendages. His body was alight with sensation, and he tossed his head.

"Please don't tease," he whined in frustration. Pitch placed both his hands on Jack's thighs, lightly scratching his nails over soft skin.

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," he lied, so painfully obvious Jack couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, yeah? That's not what this thing tells me!" He gently slapped the tendril still pulsating on his chest, only to gasp as his hand was caught in another. It held his arm up by his head, the one on his chest undulating even more over his nipples for the comment. He was sure to have little circular marks all over his body when the night was over, and he dreaded the excuse he would have to give his mother.

He could not wait to look in a mirror.

"Spread your legs for me," Pitch murmured in that dark way of his. Jack moaned, opening up as far as he could. Pitch clicked his tongue at him, and Jack worried fleetingly that he might have disappointed his lover. "Now, now, Jack, you can do better than that." He gasped as two sticky-smooth tendrils wrapped around his legs, the suckers catching on his skin as they took a firm hold. "Spread your legs wider." He whined as his legs were stretched even further.

He scrambled at the skin of the thick black arms near his hands, his fingers sinking into squishy flesh but unable to grab a decent hold of them. Pitch manhandled him to lay the way he wanted, bending Jack nearly in half, legs spread wide to expose his ass while holding his knees down by his ribs. Jack's face flushed deeper than it ever has, realizing too late that his entrance was exposed to the hungry monster watching him.

"There you are..." Pitch muttered, hungry and dark, and Jack felt warm heat on his ass before he threw his head back with a shout, eyes wide as that wickedly long tongue plunged inside him.

His moans were loud and guttural, Pitch's tongue flicking over his prostate with each thrust inside. Jack tried to squirm away, unable to do more than shake and accept the assault, turn on two as he couldn't even thrust up into the tentacle wrapped around his length. It slid up and down his cock with each torturous prod of Pitch's tongue, and Jack was soon as shaking, drooling mess. His legs were held fast, muscles twitching with each sharp flick of the tongue, his arms trying to pull at the appendages holding him captive. He couldn't even thrust down on the muscle, completely immobile as Pitch gave him pleasure the likes of which he had never known.

Not that he had known much before Pitch.

"I'm... I'm gonna-!" He screamed as his orgasm hit him hard and fast, a tentacle cradling his head as he threw it back. Waves crashed around them, drowning out his noises to anyone who might be standing out on the rocky bluffs this late at night, but Jack could only feel the spray of water on his body, splashing his sides as Pitch continued to suck at his hole. His ass felt uncomfortably wet, the tendril milking his cock for everything he had squeezing just shy of becoming painful. Jack tried to catch his breath, wheezing slightly as his lungs were compressed a little more as Pitch tries to bend him further in half. Jack felt like he was gonna break, tears beading in his eyes as the pleasure on his cock tipped over the edge of pain, and couldn't even kick the bigger male off him. "S-stop! Oh, god, stop, I can't-!"

The tendril on his cock slid away. Jack breathed a sigh of relief, Pitch pulling his tongue out to lean over him once again. His eyes shown with a ferocity Jack wasn't used to, his breathing heavy and uneven as he licked up Jack's mess, all the while maintaining eye contact. Jack couldn't look away even if he wanted to, moaning as the arm on his chest suddenly pulled free. He gasped as his nipples were exposed to cool air, sensitive and sore, only to nearly scream again when Pitch latched onto the unbitten one. His tongue flicked and curled around the nub, sucking and nibbling gently. Meanwhile, the arm that was free of suckers on the last few inches slid over his crotch, teasing ticklish skin at the seam of his leg and hip. He tried to squirm, tried to get a word out , but Pitch bit his chest again, Jack screaming at sharp teeth sinking into his flesh.

"Just like that, Jack..." Pitch growled into his skin after he unhooked his teeth. Jack lay there, a panting, sweaty mess, trying to catch his breath and relax his shaking muscles, but he tensed as something new prodded at his entrance. "Relax for me, darling... You've been so good for me, Jack, just a little more..."

Pitch's voice sounded broken and near hoarse. Jack whined, barely managing to stop seizing enough for the appendage to poke in. It was no bigger than maybe two fingers to start, but he knew how thick Pitch's arms were, had spent enough time studying them to know how quick the stretch would widen. He moaned, pathetic and pained, his cock barely managing to twitch in response. Two hands pressed into the rock by his head, Jack prying open his eyes to meet Pitch's, the big creature hovering above him in the dark. Jack could just barely make out his shadowy features past the fever-bright eyes, but Pitch's cheeks seemed darker than usual, his mouth gone slack. He wondered if the other male was blushing.

"P-Pitch..."

"I got you, love," Pitch whispered. His voice cracked on the last word, Jack's heart swelling at the sound of it. The tendril cradling his head was gentle, angling him just so. Pitch leaned down and kissed him, gentle but all-encompassing, claiming Jack for his own as his specialized arm pushed in a little deeper. "I got you. You're opening up so beautifully for me, Jack, you lovely little thing..."

He leaned back enough to look down the length of Jack's body, watching the arm pull out an inch or two before pushing back in. He released a guttural moan, Jack gasping at the stretch.

"I can't -" he gasped brokenly, even as his body started to relax against his will.

"You can," Pitch muttered. "You can take it, love, you can take everything I have to give you..." Jack threw his head back as his prostate was nudged, his poor abused hole clenching and making his cock twitch. "There you are..."

Pitch's breathing grew more ragged as the tentacle thrust a little hard, stretching Jack more. Jack could do nothing but take it, moaning and gasping and whining as Pitch used him as he saw fit. His mouth fell open, Pitch's tongue plundering the wet cavern, and Jack felt his eyes close. His whole body shook as with every other hard thrust, Pitch pushed in deeper. His weird tentacle-cock rubbed over his prostate with every thrust, sending spasms of painful pleasure throughout Jack's body. His cock bounced against his belly, full and painful, and Jack could only be thankful that Pitch kept his movements slow and steady - probably for his sake. Who knew what would happen to a poor little human if Pitch went fast and hard, even if Jack kinda wanted him to pick up the pace.

Pitch pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily. One big hand found Jack's cheek, stroking the skin under his eye, and Jack was made aware of the wetness there. He realized he was crying a little too late.

"Should I stop?" Pitch whispered. His voice edged on desperate as the tentacle moved a little faster. "I can - o-oh, f-fuck... I can stop, J-Jack, I-"

He looked down as he spoke, his whole body shuddering as the tentacle forced in a little deeper. It moved a little harder, Jack's peering up through bleary eyes to watch Pitch's own widen with unbearable desire.

"Fuck, you're perfect..." Pitch hissed. "Look at you... You really can take it, can't you, you perfect creature...."

Jack moaned pitifully as his head was lifted a little more. He gazed down at his own body, not quite registering what he was seeing in his foggy mind.

There was movement under his skin, a vague push and pull that aligned with every thrust of Pitch's dick. His belly protruded with every thrust in, settling again when Pitch pulled back some, only to rinse and repeat. When he made no outward signs of a reaction, Pitch paused, leaning back a little as he pulled his dick out. Jack watched with heavy breathing as his stomach flattened, his nerves sparking and lighting up as the very tip of the tentacle brushed his prostate. His cock twitched, Jack not really feeling it as something nudged his balls, fondling them gently. He moaned, clenching around the tip of the appendage. The his eyes went wide as it was suddenly shoved back in, hard and deep, and Jack wanted to throw his head as he screamed, but he was held in place, eyes locked onto his stomach and the sudden bulge that appeared as Pitch fucked him.

His body seized as yet another orgasm hit him, mouth falling slack as weak eyes watched his skin move. He flicked them up to find Pitch, the sea monster's own eyes locked on the skin of his belly, but they briefly flicked up to meet Jack's foggy blue. Jack didn't register the noise that escaped his lover, low and broken and terrifying. He barely felt the cock inside him pulse and twitch, didn't notice the way his stomach continued to expand. He only had eyes for that brilliant gold, mouth opening and closing weakly as he tried to say something, anything, beside whatever pitiful noises were escaping him just then. Pitch leaned over him, hot lips finding his easily in the dark, and Jack sighed a the strain on his body started to lax.

The cushion under his head lowered enough so his neck was no longer bent so much. The restraints on his arms loosened, suckers popping as they pulled away from his skin. His legs were slowly lowered and stretched, the tendrils massaging blood back into his limbs. More popping was heard in the quiet night, barely drowned out by the sound of the waves, but Jack couldn't really hear it. There was blood rushing in his ears as his body was moved for him, his whole body feeling more loose and relaxed than it ever had before. His belly felt full to bursting, Pitch's cock still pulsing inside him, but he felt limp and sleepy now that Pitch was no longer moving.

Pitch's tongue traced every inch of his mouth - over his teeth, sucking on his tongue. He pulled away with sharp teeth on Jack's lip, careful not to bite too hard. His eyes were heavy as they gazed down at Jack, so adoring and soft that Jack wanted to cry.

Oh, wait.

He already was.

"Shh..." Pitch soothed gently, wiping his tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "It's alright, Jack, you're alright." Jack tried to speak but couldn't, moaning low and pained. "You did so well for me, my good little Jack." The tendril inside him finally ceased its pulsing, Pitch starting to gently remove it. He moaned as he did, gazing down at Jack with a kind of hunger that made Jack feel loved. "Feel that, Jack?" Jack did, barely managing a nod as way more than what Pitch had told him would be inside him slithered out. "You took so much, and for your first time, too!" He laid a warm hard on Jack's full belly, rubbing gently. "Such a good boy..." He leaned down to kiss Jack's distended stomach. "You'd make such an exquisite parent to my spawn, Jack..." He kissed his belly again. Jack sighed.

The hand pressed down hard on his belly, Jack sucking in a sudden breath of pain. He gritted his teeth. "Wh-what..."

"Sadly," Pitch continued to mutter, regretful and resigned, "I think keeping these inside you might actually kill you."

Then he pushed down. Hard.

Jack screamed.

Something shifted inside him, multiple somethings. At the same time, two tentacles were back at his entrance, spreading his hole, and something pushed out of Jack. It squished embarrassingly, Jack's face lighting up with mortification, but Pitch leaned down to kiss him.

"It's alright, darling. I got you."

A second something popped out of Jack's body as Pitch kept up the pressure on his body. "P-Pitch... w-hat the f-fuck?"

Another slid out, Jack whining as his body tried to clench around it, trying to keep it in.

"You can't keep them, Jack," Pitch told him gently. "They won't live."

"K-keep... wh-at?"

Pitch gazed at him with those loving, bright eyes, smiling gently. "My spawn, Jack. Eggs. Maybe someday we can figure something out, but right now, your body can't hold them." As he spoke, more... eggs slid out of Jack despite his body doing the best it could to keep them in.

"You di... didn't say... there would be-eee eggs inv-ah-lved!" Jack tried to shout between panting breaths, but Pitch simply chuckled, kissing his parted lips.

"Whoops."

"Oh, fu-ah! F-fuck you!"

---

I just jumped so far out of my wheelhouse that I had to end it there! I am soo sorry!

#what the fuck is this mess #i sincerely hope this is ok Fang!!#ill clean it up and post it to ao3 later #harley answers #asks #harley writes #my writing #blackice #fic #rotg #pitch black #jack frost #mermay

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