#god I am so deep in my feels for them lately

[optiwashere]

Opti! 11 pls, I could use some fluffy ☺️

Thank you so much for requesting this one! 💜

I already did one rendition of it here, but Shadowheart deserves more than just a little joy, right? Right.

11. A kiss in joy.

---

A rush of cool air brushed through Shadowheart’s hair, trailing a loose lock across her cheek. Not unlike the icy whispers of Shar in her ear, it was enough to startle her awake in the room at the Elfsong. The door and window were both flung open, and panic roared in her chest.

Almost as soon as it came upon her, the feeling died when she spotted the intruder.

“I tried to be quiet,” said Asheera, slipping a muddy boot off as stealthily as if she were wearing her plate armor. “Guess I messed that one up.”

“I suppose you did,” Shadowheart said, yawning. As she stretched, she could not help but notice Asheera keeping something close to her chest. “Where were you? Off traipsing to the tavern for a morning meal?”

“Wasn’t hungry.” Asheera tried to angle herself to keep her back to Shadowheart as she removed her other boot. “I was… um. Busy.”

“Busy. Right. What do you have there?”

Asheera glanced over her shoulder, fighting back a smile against her tusks. “Am I that obvious?”

“Not a master of secrecy, no.” Shadowheart bunched the covers up around her and dragged herself beside her lover.

To her surprise, Asheera held in her hand a flower. The vibrant green of the stem contrasted against a layered, round array of pink petals. She twirled it between her fingers and caught Shadowheart watching her as she made another full rotation between her thumb and forefinger.

“So much for the surprise,” she said with a chuckle.

“Is that a peony?” Shadowheart tilted her head to the side to consider when, if ever, she had mentioned them to Asheera. “Not exactly my favorite, but they’re quite pretty. The color’s incredible this time of year, isn’t it?”

“Exactly. And… hang on.” Turning to face her, Asheera tucked Shadowheart’s loose hair over one shoulder and placed the stem of the flower over her ear. “There we go.”

It wasn’t large enough for the petals to be obnoxious, and in a way, it was extremely silly. She could imagine herself in the mirror now, bedraggled and sleep heavy under her eyes, with the brightest, most eye-catching flower stuck in her hair. Surely, it was a joke.

But Asheera didn’t laugh at her. In fact, all she did was stare. Gaze flickering up to her eyes, then back to the flower, all while a grin broke across her features. In the wavering, fresh light of the morning sun, her ruddy brown eyes glowed like embers of a fire while they roved all over her body. Wandered yet always returned to the peony in her hair.

“Was this your surprise?” Shadowheart asked, unsure why it was so hard to ask that. After everything they had been through together, through life and death, this was nothing more than a gift of a flower. “You didn’t have to sneak out to go find one of these, you know.”

“I know,” said Asheera with a nod, “but I woke up early. Had to do something with the time.”

“Plucking peonies from gardens another pastime of yours?”

“No.” Asheera slid closer, resting a hand on Shadowheart’s naked hip. The other spread a broad palm against the side of her neck, fingers reaching up to touch the stem resting on her ear. “More like, I was busy finding a way to somehow make you even prettier. Don’t know if I succeeded, but I’m not sure if it’s even possible. I wanted to find something colorful for you, at least.”

How silly. How romantic. How foolish, rote, and… and heat bloomed along Shadowheart’s throat, climbing her neck before it reached her face. The sudden rush of that indescribable feeling was not the flower, not really.

Not long ago, she told Asheera that the last thing she wanted was more darkness in her life. The draw of a startlingly bright colors — within and without — grew too strong to ignore, and she wanted it. She believed all she might have of that promise, of a brighter future, was Asheera’s word, the cracked amulet hanging from a leather band, and their bond that felt unbreakable at this point.

Yet there she was, somehow finding a way to make good on her promise already. Though there were still battles ahead of them, Asheera found time for this moment.

The slice of time where all that mattered was finding that brief splash of color to bring into her life. Into their lives.

It was all too much. Shadowheart moved, and it seemed Asheera noticed as well because they both found one another in a kiss that deepened beyond a mere chaste peck on the lips. One that lasted long enough that they would have to claim that they decided to sleep for a while longer than usual.

[rotagnus]

Messages From God & The Universe <3

happy wednesday babies! i hope all of you are doing well. here is a little pac with guidance for all of you. if you guys are wondering why i am posting so much, i have a lot of free time on my hands and am trying to grow my intuition and my faith. i hope you guys enjoy this reading!! much love <3

pile 1.

the signs have been pouring in for you, and this is your permission to take them into your heart. a lot of you are hesitant, and do not want to believe that what you've seen is a sign, specifically the sign that's been lingering in your thoughts more than most. i am hear to tell you that this is what you think it is. a lot of you also seem to feel like you're always watching the happiness go by due to your own morals...many of the people you know have been experiencing joys lately that you have not given yourself access to.

don't worry. God has a plan for you, the universe, whatever you hold belief in. a lot of you have been finding joys in putting all of yourself into activities...maybe over-training, studying too hard, et cetera. take a break. i know you don't want to focus on these things that have been bothering you, but you should. the answer is right there. you'll be glowing, soon. your happiness will return to you, and it'll be visible; your skin might clear up, you might look better, you know what i mean? i love you, the universe/God does, and i assure you that you can take a deep breath and trust, trust that you will be okay.

pile 2.

a lot of you have experienced a heartbreak recently. this will uplift you, and it is not a sign that God/the universe has left you. sometimes, when everything is breaking; it's a sign that it's all coming together. everything will clear up soon. sometimes, you are meant to go on a journey alone; but you are never alone. your ancestors, guardian angels, higher beings...they're all with you. things have been going out of your life for a reason; bad ones permanently, good ones temporarily. but you must not focus on those right now. uplift your heart. you're powerful because you have a strong sense of compassion and kindness. utilize that. understand that not everyone wants to hurt you.

there are a pair of eyes on you, watching you. be wary of people, and be observant. your power lies in your heart, in your ability to forgive others. with the two of hearts, here, this may signify a union between you and something else, or someone else. you are divinely protected, and you need to have more trust in what is going to happen. it'll happen to better you. the universe is telling me to tell you that it's got you covered, on its own timing. so relax. also, the sense of discomfort you have will be uplifted.

pile 3.

there is a sense of vagueness and mystery in your life. cycles are ending, and you've come out glowing and strong. you've been reborn into a burning phoenix. this change has been for the better; think of who you were, particularly in the winter of 2024, the early months (november, december). you were most likely miserable; if not, this pile isn't for you, darling. you were closed off emotionally and you lost so many parts of yourself you believed that soon you would be nothing but empty space.

God/the universe is telling you to open your heart up. you have so many wants...so many desires, but you feel as if you'll lose this new you if you even dare to open up again. you're sensitive, easily hurt, and with this new change, it's hard for you to navigate this path. you're a lamb. the most important advice here is to be able to open up, but follow your judgements with people. trust the little voice in your ear. be vulnerable, be you, but with the right people. discernment is crucial. you will be tested to see if you've learned; so be prepared. but this new cycle is good. you needed this new start.

[kyouka-supremacy]

WAIT YOU AREN'T AMERICAN???

[synonymsforstupidity]

Thinking about Gladion and Lillie post-SuMo. How much potential there is to explore.

What do you do when you finally accomplish the thing you spent years shutting out everything else to focus on

What do you do when all the things you learned to do and be to survive don't work for being a person outside the situation that shaped them

Should you forgive someone just because you want things to be fixed, even if you're not sure they deserve it

Should you put in the effort to try to repair something even though it shouldn't be your job to fix it

What is forgiveness and what is being taken advantage of again

Figuring out what to do with life when you spent all this time teaching yourself not to want

Learning how not to feel guilty for being alive. Learning to not feel guilty for enjoying things

Slowly starting to wear colors besides black and white

What its like to make your own choices when you never really could before (out of either restrictions or your own feeling of obligation), having to deal with the fact that freedom could mean making mistakes

Learning how to walk when all you've ever done is sprint or freeze

[sskk-manifesto]

What a good episode. Maaaaaan

[britneyshakespeare]

Being then in a pleasant frame of mind (from which I infer that poisoning is not always disagreeable in some stages of the process), I resolved to go to the play. It was Covent Garden Theatre that I chose; and there, from the back of a centre box, I saw Julius Caesar and the new Pantomime. To have all those noble Romans alive before me, and walking in and out for my entertainment, instead of being the stern taskmasters they had been at school, was a most novel and delightful effect. But the mingled reality and mystery of the whole show, the influence upon me of the poetry, the lights, the music, the company, the smooth stupendous changes of glittering and brilliant scenery, were so dazzling, and opened up such illimitable regions of delight, that when I came out into the rainy street, at twelve o'clock at night, I felt as if I had come from the clouds, where I had been leading a romantic life for ages, to a bawling, splashing, link-lighted, umbrella-struggling, hackney-coach-jostling, patten-clinking, muddy, miserable world.

David Copperfield by Charles Dickens, "Chapter 19: I Look About Me, and Make a Discovery"

[feralchaoschild]

instead of sleeping I'm going through the aftg extra content (again, it's been years) and I forgot about the

'he's lost, he's lost, he's found'

and oooh BOI,,, I have emotions about Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten

[orphicmusings]

giving a sleepy, overworked viktor head late in the lab..? and because hes so tired he's just dumb and needy....???? (ig somno if you squint)

18+ ᴍᴅɴɪ

“what do i have to do to pull you away from that?” you sighed, practically hanging off the back of your lover’s chair. you took a quick glance at the clock in the corner of the room, soon to approach midnight. viktor answered you with a simple, deflective hum and you rolled your eyes. if he didn’t complain about the exhaustion making his chronic pain flare up, you would have pulled him away from that desk with your bare hands and throw him on the nearest plush surface. you sighed again, a little louder this time, a little pointed.

“am i boring you, love?” he rasped, exhaustion heavily coating his voice and thickening his accent.

“you really can’t take your eyes off that thing for just a second?” you leant down over his shoulder, exasperatedly nodding toward his project. “not. one. second.” he answered, not even raising his eyes to meet yours, focused entirely on scribbling down what looked to be an equation.

oh. you took that as a challenge.

wordlessly, you gently nudged the wheels of his chair away from its place flush against his desk. he barely noticed, only giving you a slight furrow of his thick brows. you rounded the chair in front of him and slowly sank to your knees. “not one second?” you tilted your head coquettishly. at your words, he allowed himself to spare a glance at you, kneeling before him, under his desk. his breath hitched in his throat, trapping his response in his chest. a glance was all he could afford if he wanted to focus. even in the dim lamplight, you could see the faintest brush of pink across his cheeks. smirking triumphantly, you carefully reach up for the zipper of his pants. he loudly clears his throat when he feels your fingers so close.

“darling.” he called as a warning, stopping short in his work but still refusing to tear his eyes off of it.

“you want me to stop?” you asked earnestly, though you were sure you already knew the answer. he fixed you with a look. a permissive look, but a firm look, like an ‘i can’t resist this but i also won’t endorse it’ kind of look. you bit down on your grinning lip and pulled his pants down entirely. you could feel him tensing his muscles under your hands, willing himself to keep his focus on his work. you slowly pulled his cock from his constraints, giving it a single kiss on the head.

a soft groan rumbled in his throat, one hand dropping his pen and moving to cover his mouth. he could not look at you. he could not look at you. if he looked at you, he’d be done for the night, his brain would be absolutely fried and, oh, goddammit. your cheeks are hollowed, pretty plump lips wrapped around him, mischievous eyes glinting up at him. “fuck.” he groans again, closing his eyes and letting them open in your direction, finally. you braced your hands on his thighs, making sure to dig your nails into the pillowy flesh of his good leg. you finally got those pretty whines to come out. “evil…” his chest rises and falls heavily with each labored breath, becoming more and more ragged the more you fill your mouth with him. “evil woman.”

you giggle as much as you can with him on your tongue and it vibrates oh so good around him, causing him to toss his head back and whimper, “please…” one hand blindly reaches for your hair, gently tangling his long fingers in your locks, guiding you. oh, you’ve got him now. “oh, god, please don’t stop…” you will yourself to take him as deep as you can, and he hisses as he feels his cock hit the back of your throat. he opens his eyes to check on you, pulling you off for a moment. he takes the brief respite to tilt your chin up and give you a few quick kisses, babbling things like sweet girl and i love you so much and i’m sorry for neglecting my poor little darling and i could never say no to that pretty face in between. you can’t help but giggle at his sleepy verbage, more mushy than usual.

“that’s cute.” you take his hand off your chin, threading your own fingers through his. looking at his achingly hard cock. “i wasn’t done, though.”

he gives you one of his cocky, lopsided smiles and pats his lap. “no, no you weren’t.”

[tojirights]

I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!

a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷

tags: 18+ smut nsfw!

vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.

and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.

"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.

"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.

this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.

"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."

valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.

"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.

and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."

the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.

"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.

"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."

[nvtstvrns]

Prettied Up - Chris Sturniolo

Smut, dom!chris, sub!fem

Summary: you and Chris are getting ready to go to dinner with Nick and Matt when he sees you doing your makeup in the mirror, he decides to eat you out while you do your makeup.

Contains: smut, sub!fem, dom!chris, oral (fem!receiver), almost getting caught, pet names (ma, pretty girl, etc)

Authors note: I am so sorry I put this story off for so long, here it is 😭

Divider Credits: me

Chris and I were getting ready for dinner with Nick, Matt, Mikayla and Nate, we were in Boston for a few weeks and we wanted to get together with our old friends. I was standing at the mirror starting my makeup, Chris was in the shower.

“Ma, can you hand me that towel, please?” He asks me his finger pointing through the shower curtain. I walk over to the towel and I hand it to him. I quickly go back to doing my makeup, we only had twenty minutes left before we had to leave.

Chris comes behind me and wraps his arms around my stomach and he lays his head on my shoulder.

“Chris, you’re getting my clothes all wet.” I say pushing him off my slightly.

“That’s not too bad though right-“ he says hugging me from behind again. This time his hands trail to my bare waist. “Clothes will dry…” he reaches up and cups my breast.

“Chris.” I warn as I watch him run his hands all over my body in the mirror. “I’m trying to do my makeup.” I say blending out my blush trying to shake off the goosebumps. I could feel myself throbbing in need and I took a deep breath.

“You gettin all prettied up f’me?” He says as he puts on his underwear and then his pants. I grin and turn around. “Chris stop making me-“

He gets closer to me and grabs my jaw. “Stop making you what?” He says in a husky voice. My knees buckled. His grip on my jaw was light and soft but it still put a huge effect on me.

I look up at him with puppy eyes and he lets me go.

“Can I make you feel good baby…give you a little reward…”

“For what?” I ask quietly.

“You deserve it…but keep gettin prettied up for me ma.”

He gets down on his knees in front of me. This was a new thing from him, it’s always me getting on my knees for him, was he really going to make me feel good with no returns at all? I feel his hands fiddle with my button on my pants and then he unzips them, pulling them down to my ankles and then pulling them all the way off. His eyes trail up to mine and he places a soft kiss to my lower abdomen.

“Keep doing your makeup don’t watch me.” He says pulling my underwear off and throwing them somewhere with my pants. He doesn’t even hesitate, his mouth quickly attaching to my clit, I let out a gasp and I hang my head back. He taps the back of my thighs telling me to continue doing my makeup, so I do, trying to line my lips with all of this pleasure is not working, so I move on to my mascara.

“Oh my-fuck Chris…” I say as my legs begin to shake, I can’t focus on just my makeup, the image of him pumping his fingers in and out of my wet pussy while his mouth abuses my clit was way too much. “I’m gonna cum, Chris! Oh my fucking god, Chris…” I say grinding my hips on his face.

“Mmm yeah grind my face ma, cum all over me.” I continue grinding my hips reaching closer and closer to my high, with a final cry my legs jerk and I cum all over his face…luckily my makeup was fully finished, it didn’t look exactly how I wanted it to, but I did my best.

“Chris! Y/n come on! We have to leave!” Matt yells, in a daze I put back on my pants and he puts on his shirt, and puts on deodorant and other things. He wraps an arm around my shoulder.

“Don’t let it affect you too much baby.” He says kissing my temple “we still have dinner to eat, and then you can have me.”

This was a lot of fun to write, and thank you sm for all of your support lately (I recently did a face reveal) so thank you for all of your compliments on that. Thank you for reading my fanfictions and if you ever have a request just send me a silly little message.

[shybluebirdninja]

Naughty Secrets

Summary: Logan's quiet crush on you turns into an unexpected obsession when he finds your used underwear in your room.

Pairing           : Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Note               : masturbation, erotic obsession

Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, casually sipping his beer, while you gathered your things to head out for the evening. The soft sound of your laughter echoed around the apartment, filling him with warmth. You turned to him, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up, okay?” you said, flashing a bright smile. Logan felt his heart race, a flicker of something deep within him igniting.

“Sure, no problem. Just don’t get into too much trouble,” he teased, trying to keep it light, even though his mind was swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite voice. You rolled your eyes playfully, waving goodbye as you headed out the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, a heavy silence filled the apartment, and Logan felt the familiar pang of longing wash over him. With you gone, a potent mix of curiosity and desire consumed him. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the magnetic pull of your room. After a moment, he made his way to your door, heart racing as he pushed it open.

The room was like a shrine to you—the faint scent of your favorite perfume still lingered in the air, mingling with something more intoxicating. As Logan's eyes roamed your space, he stumbled upon a pair of your used panties tossed aside carelessly on the bed. They beckoned to him, their fabric wrinkled and stained, a testament to your absence and a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“God, what am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his breath hitching as he picked them up, the softness sending shivers down his spine. Bringing them closer, he inhaled deeply, the scent igniting a primal hunger within him. This is so wrong, but I can’t stop.

Thoughts of you flooded his mind—how carefree you were, how you laughed, the way your hair danced around your shoulders. But now, you were just a fantasy he couldn’t shake. “You don’t know how much I want you,” he whispered, gripping the fabric tighter as he sank onto the edge of your bed.

As he held the delicate material to his face, he savored the intoxicating aroma. His fingers brushed over the fabric, imagining your skin beneath it, picturing the way you moved, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching.

He growled lowly, “What would you do if you knew? Would you laugh? Would you push me away?” But he was lost in the thrill, losing himself in the fantasies swirling in his mind. “Maybe you’d want this too. Maybe you’d beg for it.”

Logan couldn't hold back any longer. He slid a hand down his body, stroking himself slowly, feeling the heat build as he lost himself in the moment. “Just one taste,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the fabric. He licked the material, tasting remnants of you, groaning at the deliciously filthy act.

With every kiss, every lick, he imagined you right there with him. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “I want to hear you moan my name, to feel you beneath me, begging for more.”

His breath quickened, and his grip tightened around himself, pleasure building as he continued to worship the very essence of you. “Just imagine the things I could do to you,” he fantasized, heart racing, pulse pounding. “I’d make you feel so good, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”

The thought of your body writhing under his touch, your soft moans filling the air, sent him spiraling deeper into lust. He envisioned pressing you against the wall, feeling your warmth against him as he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. “I’d show you exactly what you do to me, how much I crave you.”

Logan surrendered to the dark cravings that had been brewing for far too long, lost in a haze of desire and desperation. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, gripping your panties tighter, breathing in your scent, feeling himself teeter on the edge of madness. “You’re my secret obsession, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The line between right and wrong blurred as he surrendered to the hunger inside him, knowing he’d do anything to have you, to make you his.

[eclipseslayer]

PRETTY PINK PANTIES

• TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

• SUMMARY: Toji catches a glimpse of your panties one morning and then gets drunk to take his mind off of it. However, his drunk mind seems to have other plans when he finds himself suddenly in your bedroom.

• CW: DARK CONTENT! Icky!dad!Toji, panty-sniffing, masturbation, incest.

• WC: 1kish

Another night, another drink.

Toji groans as he downs his fourth beer, feeling the weight of the liquid sit in his stomach, making for a rather unpleasant feeling. He scratches his stomach while he feels his head go into a woozy state from all of the alcohol he's consumed.

He grunts.

He wouldn't have to feel this shitty if he didn't drink to get over what he saw earlier today.

The memory keeps playing back in his mind like a broken record, and it makes Toji want to smack his skull against the wall, because he knows he shouldn't think about it, but, fuck, for some reason, he can't help it.

You were leaving early this morning to go to class. Toji was making himself some coffee, when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you bend over to tie a loose lace on your sneaker, revealing your tight, pink panties beneath your skirt.

Toji quickly whipped his head away the second he laid his eyes on your underwear, not wanting to stare at them a second longer because he knew it was wrong.

But... fuck. Despite it all, he couldn't get those pretty pink panties that hugged your ass so well out of his head.

You're his kid. He can't be thinking like this.

Sure, he's always been kinda a deadbeat due to your mom missing in his life, but he couldn't do this to you.

He gets up from the couch, and, drunkenly, nearly stumbles over the coffee table.

No, he can't. He won't.

His head, clouded with the alcohol, makes the decision for him despite his nagging thoughts, as his mind takes control of his feet and moves them towards your room.

She's my fucking kid... can't do this—

Toji stumbles over his feet again but he catches himself on your doorframe.

Fuck.

He huffs; a heavy breath escapes him while he holds himself on the doorframe, and his eyes scan your room, looking for something that'll remove this weird attraction towards you—anything, especially something that'll gross him out or see you in a new bad light—

Ah, shit.

His eyes widen suddenly when he sees them: pretty pink panties, sitting on the floor of your room, discarded without a thought to the mind.

Toji's heart races in his chest, his throat constricting as if all the air has vanished. He can only manage a shaky exhale, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of fear that seeps into his mind.

What the hell am I doing? Toji wonders to himself, and yet, his feet take him forward again.

Slowly, one foot in front of the other, his feet drag him along, and Toji wants to grasp onto something, anything, maybe hold onto the doorframe to keep himself from sinking into this deep, dark hole, but, the alcohol clouds his restraint, making him lose himself to his deepest, darkest desires as he reaches down and picks up the pretty pink panties.

He swallows thickly as he stares down at the panties in his hands. His heart picks up its' pace again, and he lets out another shaky breath once he feels his cock hardening just from the sheer sight of the panties alone.

He looks around, looking for you, but then suddenly remembers you're still on campus, probably doing a late-night class.

His cock strains against his pants again, as if it's telling Toji to just do it—do what he needs to do and get it over with, so, hesitantly, he listens to his urge. He slowly lifts the panties to his nose and he inhales softly at first, but, once he gets a small whiff, he becomes quickly addicted and so he inhales. He inhales strongly as the fabric of the panties stick to his nostrils, filling his head with the scent of you.

And, God, do you smell good. Your panties smell warm, and ripe, like you had been sweating in them all day. There's even little bleach stains on the lining of the panties where your discharge had been.

Fuck.

If he could get his hands on you right now, he'd be the happiest man alive, burying his face between your thighs to smell and lick your pussy to death, until you'd be cumming all over his tongue, but he can't so his hand begins to grope his own hard dick through the fabric or his pants.

He groans, leaning his head back as he lets out a shaky sigh against the fabric of your panties. He keeps them on his face while his hands move down to slip off his sweatpants where he tugs on the grey hemline, slipping them down until the fall into a pool around his ankles.

He huffs when his eyes dart down to look at his dick poking through his underwear. He should be ashamed that he's this hard after smelling his daughter's underwear, but, he's too far in now to give a fuck.

He tugs his underwear down and lets it fall down around his legs and he sighs when he finally frees his cock from their constricting confines.

He pushes the panties to the side on his face so he can spit into his hand with ease, before bringing his hand back down to his aching cock where he begins to slowly pump himself.

He groans, lowly, as he revels in the smell of your panties. His cock throbs in his hand while he continues to smell deeply, imagining that this was your pussy right here in front of his face.

God, how he wishes it were so. He wishes his tongue was pressed deep into your pussy, tasting the sweat that had leaked from your body during the day. He wishes his lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking on it fervently while you would whine and moan about his good his tongue is. He wishes his fingers were curling inside you, over and over again so he could hear your wet, squelching cunt as it would gush around him.

He'd call you his "good girl" and would kiss your thighs, thanking you for letting him explore your body—which is something he's been wanting to do for what seems like a while now, as he finally admits it to himself.

He just can't help but get hard around you. He doesn't know why, but he does. He knows it's shameful, which is why he turned around so quickly this morning from catching a glimpse from your pretty pink panties.

Nevertheless, he grunts as he continues to pump his cock in his fist.

The pace is slow and lazy at first, as he wants to savor the smell of your pussy on his nose, but then, it grows more desperate, more needy as he imagines different scenarios with you.

Maybe he'll actually be inside of you one day, if he can convince you—as now, he's convinced himself that he wants this—or maybe he'll fuck that pretty mouth of yours and hold onto your hair while doing it.

"Ugh... haa... haa..." Toji moans as his breath starts to get heavy.

His grip tightens around his cock, focusing on the head of it which sends a jolt down his spine. He squeezes it, and lets out another groan, making his body shudder.

He inhales your panties again, and his pumping turns faster. He groans.

It's a constant cycle of sniffing, inhaling, and then pumping at a quicker pace, until Toji feels his balls tighten.

He brings his other hand down and squeezes his balls gently and then—

He cums.

He groans, loudly, and finishes right there in the middle of your room, shooting cum into his fist and some of it leaks onto the floor.

Breathing heavily, he hangs his head while his chest rises up and down, letting the panties fall back onto the floor, where they were.

He huffs, and a low chuckle erupts from him upon looking at the scene on the floor and his hand, as post-nut clarity finally hits him.

"Ah, fuck. What the hell have I done?"

[starboye]

starring: conner kent x male reader

request: Please make a continuation to the jealous Dick ex-bf fic you just posted where Superboy and reader have dirty sex 😭 perhaps Superboy can hold him in the air and fuck the hell out of him and Dick finds out ofc

warnings: smut, belly bulge, rough sex, fucking in the air, making out

directors note: this is a part 2 to this fic, sidenote but what the actual fuck did i lace that first fic with like im reading over it and oh. my. god. it's like so good i see why yall wanted a part two

some could say it's a little promiscuous to go get fucked by your ex boyfriends friend right after he just fucked you and his load is still dripping down your leg but i mean hey if you get the chance might as well take both for a ride am i right.

showing up at conners door with a needy look, it had gone around that you were a slut so conner knew exactly what you needed (and don't tell dick this but on some night where you were 'to busy' to meet up with dick for a late night hook up you were really getting your guts rearranged by superboy)

queue you two making out on his bed while he fucks your already wet hole "what dick couldn't get you off like i do" conner smirks moving his kisses to your neck "don't flatter yourself conner" you gasp arching your back with the way he goes so deep.

"well then why did you come crawling back to me huh" he turns you over onto your back and starts fucking you faster, throwing your legs over his shoulders, watching with amusement as your face contorts to the feeling of him going deeper.

"because i fucking love you're dick" you groan telling him what he wants to hear "mm mm come on say it like you mean it or am i gonna have to fuck it out of you" he leans down to whisper in your ear, a shudder driving down your spine at the mere thought of him fucking you rough.

"oh you got tighter just from me saying it, you want me to fuck you till you can't remember your own name" he asks, his hand rubbing up to your stomach, pressing down on the slight bulge he made "yes please" you mumble "louder" he slams into you "yes please" you moan out "louder" he demands fucking you rougher "yes please daddy" you yell "that's what i like to hear" conner smirks.

tightly holding your thighs as he destroys your walls while you struggled to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head, the head board of his bed banging against the wall with each thrust, he was enjoying making you cum all over yourself to "what is this like your fourth time cumming tonight" he laughs at your pathetic noises.

"please more" you beg him with a croaky voice from the constant moaning "please more what, use your words y/n" he grabs your chin to keep your eyes on him "please fuck me more" you whine "yes sir" he chuckles levitating you both in the air.

the feeling of little gravity made the sex even more better surprisingly, wrapping your legs around conners waist "look at that" conner smiles pulling your head to look down at the bulge he's giving you in your stomach "that's all me baby, every damn inch" he fucks you harder and harder before he empties his load into you.

"fuckkk you know how to make a guy feel good" conner huffs bringing you both back down to the bed, your phone lighting up with a notification to which conner grabs it "mr nightwing himself" he chuckles turning the phone to you showing dick texts, you try to reach for the phone but conner keeps it away and takes a picture of you sending it to dick with the message "he's a little busy".

"well we should clean up because dicks gonna be here in a while and do you really wanna argue with him while covered in cum" conner says looking down at your fucked out body "okay" is all you could barely respond. (this could lead to them fucking you at the same time)

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[inknopewetrust]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝.

Summary: After days of uncertainty, you catch Aemond in the throne room and envision the future of what power can hold. [Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader] [WC: 2.8k]

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), public sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, enemies to lovers dynamic.

Quick Links: Masterlist | gif by @vizual-demon

“Knee deep in the [throne room] and you’re eating me out… is it casual now?”

“Do you always look so smug after killing your own blood?”

In your shadows, Aemond Targaryen stared at the Iron Throne in the storm.

Thunder eclipsed the skies over the castle. In the late evening, you could feel the shocks of lightning beneath your fingertips as they grazed the columns of marble that flanked the room. Each scream of anger echoed through the stones, you could hear it so clearly.

You could see him in the shadows of the throne.

Aemond Targaryen had returned from battle two days ago.

In those two days, the world had changed drastically compared to the one that it was before. A King incapacitated, a legend buried in the rubble of a fallen house, and two sides burning as bright as the cascading terror above.

The tide was shifting and the power in the halls was striking.

Aemond’s arms hung limp at his sides. For someone so thirsty for the power the room held, his apathetic nature would bury him. He could see the darkness of the swords; twisting and bleeding each person dry for their aspirations.

He wanted to be someone who was remembered.

Aemond Targaryen did not want to be immortalized in history as a weak member of the greatest family to ever exist in this world. In his dreams he saw a man of profound strength and terror—someone who reigned a fearsome government with unyielding standards.

In his cruelty, he wanted people to see a person who would not sacrifice his name for peace.

So yes, he was a bit smug at Rhaenys’ demise and ultimately Aegon’s injury. He would not be in this position now had he not done what was asked of him.

But he didn’t answer you—Aemond did not feel the need to acknowledge it because he knew you understood. Even if you were to be cutting and cynical, Aemond knew you rationalized his beliefs in a similar fashion.

And that enticed him.

You had always enticed him. So simple yet cunning, an outsider amongst the other ladies in your class. You were not a whore, you were not a mother, and yet he wanted to know what it felt like to be a feign of your touch.

How would your hands feel on his body? Your delicate fingers wrapped around him?

“Ah,” you ticked at him, pushing off the stone pillar and moving in his direction. “You see, My Prince, when you allow a dragon’s head to be paraded for the city to see, people are going to notice.”

“Power is power. We needn’t parade it unless it was necessary to remind them who they should bend the knee to.”

“At the ill will of a sacred creature?”

Meleys was once a beautiful dragon. It was such a shame that the second time you were able to witness her beauty it was in the butchered attempt of showing off. The grandstanding sickened the soil.

“It does not take a Targaryen to understand that.”

“What would you know of Targaryen customs?” He spoke back. His voice was thin and dry. “You will never know.”

“I apologize… for my lowly status is not on par with such a great house. I am sure my Lord Father would appreciate the sentiment.”

You have a coy, playful smile that he could feel in his bones. The kind that would chide him, never take him too seriously, and one that rarely doubted him.

It was an uneasy feeling. One he would never quite get used to.

“His ambitions are not unknown. How people without power seek it.”

“Is that not why there are whispers of what you have done?” You questioned and his hands turned to fists quickly. “Small folk talk, Aemond. Power is power but when you misuse it, the omen may come true.”

The omen hovered like the storm above. The God’s were battling in the realm in the sky; giants of proportions unfathomable in their richness of blood. They scorched and rattled in the sky as cracks of thunder rumbled throughout the Keep.

“Yet I speak nothing of it,” he eyed you solemnly. “You talk of rumors and fallacies as if they hold truth. Perhaps it is I who should ask where your loyalties preside? Does war scare you?”

Aemond approached you with long strides. His hands lingered at his sides but never held onto his hilt, threatening you with violence or harm for your disagreements.

He could see you did not fear war. Your father would have called on your return if the prospect of war scared a house with the name of your own. A prominent family in the Vale—to the Greens you were a key.

And he could play you a fiddle if you let him.

“No,” you replied, keeping your head tall. “I live in a gilded tower.”

“That has been infiltrated before. It has seen death before.”

“They do not seek me,” your eyes ran along his face as the sky illuminated his sharp features. “But you know that.”

Aemond hummed and in a moment of faulted want, his right hand reached to brush your own. The electricity of shock pulsing through your veins as though it was as important as blood itself.

You swallowed the nervousness that built in your throat at his actions. He was so sure of himself, so different from the man you had known before.

He took his sins and bathed in them. Aemond let the water dry in confidence of himself as Prince Regent. If he was going to rule in his brother’s stead, he needed the reverie of power to seep inside of him.

“Men will seek anything if they are given the chance.”

You traced the direction of his eyes to your hand, how he ghostly itched to touch you again.

“And what is it that you seek?” You questioned quietly. “Is being a ruler not enough?”

In the lull, your ears filled themselves with the sound of your heartbeat. Pumping and beating to the thrills of anticipation you sought in the sordid walls of an ugly Keep. To please a King, well… It was a dangerous thing.

Aemond’s hand touched yours loosely again. His fingers gently grazed yours with a profound intent that was something he sought.

“No,” he admitted. “It is not.”

His hand bypassed yours and rested lowly on your hip. The touch stilled you. In the darkness of the hall, the world stopped moving and your vision tunneled. His hand moved higher to rest upon the crux of your hip and stomach, thumb caressing the fabric of your dress. He stepped closer.

Without thinking, you took a step back out of the chills that erupted on your skin, not out of want. He took the space you created and closed it again but followed you as you moved backwards and backwards until your back hit one of the marble columns you had hid behind not twenty minutes earlier.

One of your hands caught yourself on the column and the other wove itself around a post. The wings of the throne room were elevated for spectators that were nonexistent now.

Aemond’s other hand mirrored the other and he held you there.

“If someone came looking for you,” he huffed, tilting his head to the side which allowed his eye to narrow. “What would you let them do to you?”

You furrowed your brows yet the feel of his hands burning through your dress allowed your mouth to run dry.

Nothing. You would let them do nothing to you. You would fight to the death to defend yourself but if it were Aemond, you would let him devour you.

“What about me, hm?” There was a faint smile on his lips. “What would you let me, your Prince Regent, do to you while the Gods watched over us?”

His hands slithered up your torso, drawing a staggered breath from you as he cupped your breasts over your dress and groped hard to feel the flesh. Aemond saw your chest stutter under his touch.

“Tell me,” he whispered, pulling his head in close to yours. His lips became a mere centimeter from yours; breath lingering in the space between you heavy and taught.

“I-I-I,” your nerves got the better of you. Stumbling over your words like a dolt, his hands moved back down and began to gather your dress in his hands. 

“Poised to stick pins where the plans now lie but a stuttering fool now.” 

“I am not a fool,” you huffed as the cool night air began to make itself known against your ankles, then your shins. “I know what I want.” 

Aemond leaned in, knocking his nose gently with yours. 

“Tell me,” he repeated. 

“I want you to touch me,” you instructed him. “I want to feel the mouth of a King on my lips and under the Gods I do sin, but I wish to feel his lips elsewhere.” 

“Oh?” Aemond hummed as his hands continued their path. “I may not hold the title of King-” 

“You are a King, Aemond,” you said assertively and his hands stopped. 

“You rule in the place of Aegon’s incapacity and by all law and rules, you are the one to carry the heavy sword. You speak the actions and see them true.” 

His Adam’s apple bobbed at the reality. 

Aemond’s power lingered. It lingered in this great hall but it was a shell. The Aemond he felt in his bones was still as scared as the one who killed Lucerys. 

“I wish to feel your lips elsewhere,” you whispered, breath fanning his face. He tilted his head upwards and for a split second, his lips touched yours. 

Intoxicating; you would have fallen to your knees had you not already wished to see him on his. 

“I want to see a King on his knees.”

Aemond could only smirk. He planted a quick, brief kiss on your lips before bunching up the skirt of your dress as he knelt down to the floor. A beckoning, ethereal call from above led him to his knees to worship. With his hands collecting the material of your dress, Aemond’s hands met yours and opened them the best he could for you to grab onto it. He used the leverage of your assistance to bring down your stockings, clear the way of his alter as the thunder roared from above.

You let your head fall back against the pillar as his hands roamed your thighs, inching higher and higher but still skimming past the now unguarded temple.

You could not help but look at the exits in view as though someone would walk through them at this hour.

This late hour when all of the good, pious Lord and Ladies, Prince and Princesses, laid in their beds asleep—sans the King he would never fault himself for burning.

“Aemond,” you spoke with a voice that shook. “What if someone were to see us?”

He stopped his hands, gazing up at you from the ground on which he knelt.

“Let them see then,” he kissed the front of your thighs. “If they see, then I will marry you.”

Fuck. It made your heart leap in your chest. A frog in your throat, the honesty in his eye was enough for your anxieties to settle but your excitement to grow.

He would marry you. What a world you wished you lived in.

If all were true, it would have happened the first time he touched you. 

“Drop your dress,” he ordered.

Without hesitation, you dropped the skirt of your dress and he vanished before your eyes.

But you could feel him.

You could feel the breath of his body releasing itself just beyond where you ached for him the most. His grip on your thighs was bruising. Aemond used his position to prop one of your legs on his shoulder, sending you off balance and into the bannister behind you.

But then his hot breath met where you wanted him and the feeling melted you from the inside. Aemond peppered kisses on your mound, waiting until the perfect moment to lick a stripe through your folds and with it, you folded yourself. 

Daydreams of his hands on yours was not enough. The feel of your hand in the solitude of night where the sins of pleasure were trapped behind heavy doors could not compare. Aemond attached himself to your flesh and sucked, hard, before lapping again in a more gentle fashion. He repeated it again and again until the wetness began to gather more audibly. 

There was no stopping the breathless pants escaping your lips. 

You gripped hard on the marbled post. If you were the strongest woman in the Seven Kingdoms, you could have crushed it beneath your fingertips. Aemond’s tongue laded the wetness and gathered it in a lewd slurping noise to your clit only to run his tongue over it in brisk movements. 

“Aemond-” you swallowed your moan. Knees threatening to buckle, you wanted to grip onto him. Your hands sought his shoulders, his head or hair, and a soft bed. 

The Iron Throne was taunting you in the background. Power so divine, so close yet a million miles away. 

Aemond wouldn’t marry you, but in the moment, you would live sinfully until the Gods caught you in truth. 

He let out a low hum that made your senses tingle. He too was enjoying the pleasure he could bring, growing his own in his trousers that begged for its own mercy. Aemond could feel you palm at his head from the fabric that fell over his head—a delicacy; the rapture of someone he could love one day if he let himself. 

Your helpless want forced you to roll your hips against his face as though his tongue was not enough. Aemond gripped your hips tightly to guide you against his mouth. 

“Shit.” The words fell from your lips freely. 

“Aemond, I don’t think I will fare much longer,” you admitted to him and felt yourself burn from the inside. His accommodations to your wants, the fluidity of his tongue against you in need was sending you barreling toward the edge. 

Your mewls became whines that rivaled the thunder. 

In an instant, he removed his mouth from yours and appeared from under your skirts. Your clit throbbed as the blood began to rush downwards and a sickening wetness that was not your finish began to trickle down your leg. 

“Wha-” 

You could not speak before his lips met yours aggressively. You could taste yourself on his lips and for a second, you wanted to recoil at the thought but his hands cupped the back of your head softly and everything melted into you. 

You wished he would marry you. 

“I am not done,” he broke the kiss and admitted. “But I could not hold that in any longer.” 

His sentiment took you aback. Your eyes searched for a lie; begging for a fallacy to come true and reveal itself in the ugly colors of night but there was nothing. There was nothing but truth and in it, it broke your heart in the slightest. 

Aemond wanted to kiss you. He wanted to please you, pleasure you, hold you tightly as a husband would do but he wouldn’t marry you. 

He couldn’t marry you. 

But he would love you in the depths of darkness as his power soared for a brief moment in time and the hands of a fair lady, opposed by his mother, warmed his bed in the evening. May the throne be his witness, Aemond Targaryen was a sinner. 

He kissed you again before falling to his knees once more. 

As promised, he worked in quick licks to ignite the spark. It lit up the room brighter than the sky as the Gods boomed in discontent but they worked to drown out the sounds of your elation the closer you became. Aemond let you gather the dress back in your hands so you could see him as his tongue circled your clit and he pierced your cunt with two fingers sliding in the wetness easily. Your legs trembled. His other hand ran soft strokes along the muscle to sooth you but it was fruitless. 

His fingers curved inside of you, massaging your walls as they clenched around him and swore to the heavens for a release. 

“Fuck, Aemond.” 

He enjoyed hearing the words no Queen would dare mutter. It dared him to move faster, to move more heavy against your walls, against your lips as he continued to lap the juices that made the ghosts in the halls look away in a blush. 

It was building to a precipice inside of you. As though a volcano was erupting, you let out sounds he had never heard. You were not trying to be quiet. You were letting the castle hear your pleasure that would send you to a horrible fate. 

And you begged him to bring you to the end. His name lost its true meaning as it became lost in the night, falling from your lips breathlessly and your eyes shut tightly as the chills in your spin sent you spiraling. 

He was no God, but Aemond Targaryen gave what he had as a God should. 

“Darling,” he murmured from below. “Let them all see what a King can do.” 

And you did. 

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and thanks for letting me write this little self indulgent fic.

[acid-ixx]

I am kinda curious how feral is dick for us in again and again. Like did we only see a semblance of it in chapter 5 part 1 Orrr? It’s just really been on my mind lately

— masterlist !

on god, you guys, you don't know just how much dick's desperation is going to be shown in the series. chapter 5 part 1 and 2 is only the tip of the iceberg, wait 'til we arrive at chapter 6 and the future ones where he'll finally be able to physically see — not meet, yet, but see — you in person. he's batshit insane, arguably the most unstable person in the series, who oh-so easily masks it off with a smile, with false assurances to the family that "no, bruce, i didn't— i didn't fucking stalk them last night and the nights before that— you know my baby bird doesn't like being watched, right?—"

"i still respect their boundaries, i do."

spoken pretenses where he's aware aren't believable. he promises that he'll keep you safe, healthy, happy, and make up to all the fucking mistakes he's done; even if you despise him, even if he's the reason why you feel goosebumps prickle your skin.

dick wouldn't just swear on his life, wouldn't just make promises— no, he enacts on them the moment he speaks it. but the truth is, his desires often overpower the promises. he says he'll give you your space, but it's him who forces jason to speak up about you, about your moments shared with the second eldest, moments that should've been spent with him instead; and he takes whatever is spoken about you to heart, he memorizes it— stays awake for days on end just to read your favorite books that jason mentioned, loses sleep and rest to overanalyze your torn up diary entries. he who pesters tim and barbara to help him in his spare time to track your every device, your every movement in the streets and alone.

he says he does it all for you, he truly does, but deep down it's all fueled by guilt and his ever-consuming, ever festering obsession to keep you close, to keep you binded to him just so he could fucking make it up to you.

he's a being manifested through guilt. dick grayson suffers the eldest sibling syndrome, he believes that he could've—should've done better, especially for you. always for you. every time, every damn time he learns more about you, either directly or indirectly, the urge to defy bruce's orders to respect your boundaries, for now, becomes stronger, until all it takes for him to snap are the secrets you and jason held close together— secrets he's just so close to unlocking if jason could just— just tell him.

all his free time is spent on learning everything about you. from your favorite perfume to your exact shade of hair. he'll visit your elementary schools, track your every past record, even find your old friends. he'll do everything, absolutely everything undercover if it meant discovering the unspoken secrets of your past— everything.

then after that, he'll find a way to be the only person, or at least the one closest to attaining your trust once more. anything, i say, he'll push himself to the extreme.

he was already doomed to make so many sacrifices the moment he learned you left the manor.

and so he molds himself to be the perfect version of an older brother for you. if he couldn't redeem himself through the version of dick you know, the one who sweeps his eyes away from you, who oh-so willingly dismisses your invitations in hopes for a different distractions— he changes it all, reads through your every entries, taking note of what qualities you like about him and what you don't, and he shapes his personality around your preferences.

even if he knows he could easily break, just like you, even if deep down the first thing he feels is pure and utter convoluted anger at himself, at his family, at what happened to you.

ultimately, everything he feels is carved by guilt. but it's never purely that, he's always loved you, always do. and if was more than aware of your past before you were fully integrated in the manor, he could've taken a different path, could've been as close as you were to jason. but because of his damn obligations not only in gotham but bludhaven, of his damn belief that because you lived a normal life amongst them— his stupid fucking assumptions that you're close enough to everyone else that you wouldn't need his guidance: he's made the greatest mistake of it all ignoring you, focusing on what's ahead rather than what's always been in front of him.

and if he finally has you in his hands? if he finally gets a feel of what his baby bird would feel wrapped around his arms, his head buried in your hair so deeply he could smell your shampoo? if he finally gets to hold you, trapping your body against the threats of the world, when in truth, it's him who you should be scared of?

he'll turn the whole world upside down just to turn fantasy into reality.

so is he feral? no, not just feral. as intense as all the characters are going to be, he's going to be one of the most difficult hurdles in all of the characters you'll interact with. because not only does he bind himself so close to you, but also because he shares the same intensity behind his emotions. just like you, when he feels, he feels deeply. and so everything between you and dick would be an emotional rollercoaster. and i won't underestimate just how much more clingy he is than jason.

[dullbarbie]

tell me*- matt

analysis: when matt has a filled panic moment over an argument him and his brothers had, he feels the need to call you.

song: 'do not wait' by 'wallows'

wc: 717

warnings: cursing, very tiny mention of sex, mentions of arguing, slight angst but overall fluffy :)

authors note: i came up with this while on a drive listening to this song <333

it was early hours of the morning when my phone buzzed against the wood of my night stand, the vibrations awaking me from my deep sleep. my eyes begrudgingly flutter open, fighting sleep as i try to register the noises of someone calling me.

i prop myself up on my elbow, blinking a multitude of times at an attempt to wake myself up more. i squint my eyes, trying to read the illuminated clock's numbers without my glasses, '1:49 am' the clock flashes back at me.

i sigh in frustration, ready to chew out whoever in their right mind would call me at a time so early. i look at my phone, my anger subsiding as i see it's matt's contact. i reach over, grabbing my phone off of my table, flicking on the small white lamp text to my clock and answering the face time.

matt's face pops up on the screen, his eyes watery with tears streaked on his face. he looks worn out and exhausted, his eyes heavy with sleep. my face which was before confused was now worried.

"matt, what happened? are you okay baby?" he sniffles, wiping his eyes for any leftover residue of tears. "uhh, i-i got in an argument with chris n' nick and they-they're really mad at me.." i frown at his words, as i could practically see the stress and worry radiating off of him through the phone. "oh matt, what'd you guys argue about?"

he looks away from the phone, trying to recap exactly what happened and what words were spoken between the three of them. "well, during the- the car video, i thought they were being just, i-i don't know, over the top? and-and i tried to say nicely to tone it down a bit," he sniffles, gently wiping his eyes again as he tries to hold himself together.

"but they didn't listen, and after the video i-i got mad at 'em, and yelled.." i take notice to matt's labored breathing, seeing the way he nervously gnaws on his index finger's nail. "matt- matt, it's fine, okay? i get mad too and sometimes i yell. everybody does it. what were they doing baby?"

matt's light blue eyes soften at my caring tone and words. "uhm, like just being annoying? like, making unnecessary noises. and- just being rude." a frown creases my lips.

"that's not good, uhm, what happened after you yelled baby?" his composure seems to start slowly crumble apart, his bottom lip quivering, his eyes becoming glossy again. "uhm, nick called me a name, and just- i don't, i don't know."

he runs a hand through his brown hair, it being visibly damp. he looks up at the ceiling, trying to find words. "did you take a shower to calm down?" i ask. he nods, looking back down at the phone screen. "uhh, yeah." a small comfortable silence covers the phone line for a moment. "and i just, i don't know what to do. because i already know it's late, and i probably already just bugged you by wakin' you up at a time that's early like this, and-"

"matt, matt it's okay. i promise you aren't bugging me. i can talk to nick in the morning if you'd like? he asked me about hanging out for lunch. i can bring it up then?" he nods, wiping his tears dry off of his reddish cheeks.

"sorry, i jus' have no idea what to do. god i feel like a total pussy right now." he lets out a breathless laugh to try and lighten his own darkened mood.

"don't say that matt, it's fine. really, i don't mind." he nods, feeling reassured. "again, sorry i called you so early. you just always know how to calm me down." i smile softly.

even though i know i would've been mad at a personal level at any other person if they called me up at around two in the morning, especially on a workday. but it was my sweet boyfriend. the same boyfriend that makes my stomach do summersaults at the slightest touch from him. to finger tips brushing against each others as we pass by, to when i'm moaning out his name.

even when times get hard, i'm always there for matt.

and so is he.

i genuinely absolutely hate this fic so fucking much, i had NO idea how end it, and kinda js wanted it over with which sucks. but past that, here you guys go T-T

-love, starsturni

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