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chlorinecake · 3 months ago

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A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader

▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au

▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…

▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1

YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.

“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”

Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…

… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.

Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…

Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.

Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—

“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.

“Did you just… growl at me!?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.

Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.

“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.

“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.

“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…

Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.

“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”

“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”

You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—

“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.

“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.

The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—

“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.

You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.

“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”

“Really?”

“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.

That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—

“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”

Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now

“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”

“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.

And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…

The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.

But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.

The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.

“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.

You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—

“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.

And that’s when you felt it…

The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…

You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.

Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…

You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.

You knew what was happening right now..

Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…

FLASHBACK —

“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”

“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.

“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”

“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”

His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.

“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”

“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.

He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.

“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.

“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”

What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…

Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.

But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…

Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…

“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—

“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.

“So what?”

“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”

“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”

“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”

Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”

You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”

“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.

“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips.

Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.

Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.

“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.

“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.

And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.

The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.

He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.

Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...

Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—

“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”

“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”

All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.

“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.

But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.

And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.

You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.

You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…

“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.

“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”

“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.

Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…

Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.

He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…

Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.

Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.

“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”

“Love it when you come all over my face.”

“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”

“So so beautiful, and just for me.”

“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”

“You taste so fucking divine...”

“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”

He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”

But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.

A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”

“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…

That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.

“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.

“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”

“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.

“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.

Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.

“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”

It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…

You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…

You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings

#enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #kinktober 2024

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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 1 year ago

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Listening to Kirsten Adamson covering Big Country songs made me think 'Damn, has she got the voice to be a country (or Americana) singer' and it turns out, LOL, yeah, that's what she's doing.

#it's kind of sad though because Stuart was so passionate about country music but he just...did not have the voice for it...#but Kirsten's got it down PAT. I think her voice is just naturally suited for it. and it's lovely! I love her guitar playing too.#oh my gosh I just realized that her voice reminds me of Kellie Pickler's voice!!! haha yeah that'd be why.#do y'all remember Kellie Pickler's song ''I Wonder''? mhm. similar voice and similar song themes too. damn.#not that I think Kirsten is at all an imitation of her! I mean I guess I can't say for sure yet about her solo work especially but #Kirsten's BC covers convince me that she's rather her own artist (ironically enough)

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mad-hunts · 2 months ago

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if barton tried hard enough, he thought, imagining himself being literally anywhere else but the warehouse right then was easy. this place was never meant to be lived in for an extended period of time after all; despite the fact that it had appliances that you might see in an every day home like a fridge.

it put him on edge instead of at ease, and it certainly didn't better barton's mood when he stayed in it either, after all. but so long as he was allowed to dream within it to some degree... it was tolerable. plus, he had company here, courtesy of nico, jack, and barton also supposed jervis counted. nico had complicated feelings towards the doctor, though, and spending time around jack whilst in it thus far gave barton an unfortunate impression; which was that his own son was made nervous by him.

and the irony of it all was, barton only gathered that because he could feel cognitive empathy towards him. something that didn't include feeling but reasoning. therefore, the hopes of him somehow patching that up with jack someday were drastically decreased. barton vaguely listened to jervis respond to what he'd said about him being in the warehouse solely because of them; all of the words but one not quite having any actual impact on him, this being 'nightmares.'

the smell of the yuja tea that jack prepared for jervis, as fragrant in the air that it was, seemed to be the one thing keeping him from being sucked down a unpleasant train of thought. for someone who didn't feel human half the time, barton sure as hell experienced his own fair share of seeing 'ghosts' from the past and mourning the way some things had gone in his life. and regret, as well as sorrow, were practically intertwined in every single 'normal' person's life that he'd known.

speaking of regret, once he'd closed the curtains, something from the small cabinet hanging on the wall next to them fell to the floor. barton picked it up and was immediately reminded of why he kept this photo here instead of at his home. hiding it away helped alleviate the pain of not only loving someone and losing them, but also knowing that at the time it was taken, everything seemed fine.

'my 19th birthday party - spent right, with my handsome fiancé!' was written on the back in marcy's handwriting. barton felt like screaming and smashing something simultaneously. the photo was instead placed in his pant pocket, whilst he dragged his hands down his face and thanked his lucky stars that jervis wasn't exactly expecting any big conversations from him. barton's hand flexed by his side before he was changing his shirt, wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do after seeing that again.

grief was a thing he'd never been able to pend down how to deal with 'appropriately,' unfortunately. from marcy, to the momentary blink of an eye that felt like his bittersweet friendship with yves, to his son julien's death - barton thought he'd be destroyed by all of those losses for the longest time. but he supposed he was still here, god willing, or laughing at him more like if such a being did exist. barton noticed the fabric that was splitting on the blanket and how jervis very much appeared to be in his own world.

it was at that moment that he reached for something in that same cabinet he'd opened to change his shirt, finding that sewing thread and needle he'd stored in there long ago. barton kept it there because the shirt he was wearing had actually torn at some point and he'd fixed it. though, he had no use for it now, so he decided to put it on the edge of edge of the cabinet if jervis wanted it. but he didn't really know what he wanted. that night seemed to be a series of gut punches now as the other touched upon how jack was a good person and barton should be proud of him.

he blinked several times as he felt this sensation like something ugly was swirling within him. jack had always kind of gotten the short-end of the stick, and for what? ❝ ahh. well, sometimes i've found myself practicing behaviors towards him that my father used to use on me... but i try to stop myself when that happens. jack has come a long way, as the first time i met him, he was a scared two year old who was on his own with his brother. but now jack's a young man and very brave, despite maybe still being scared sometimes. ❞ barton cleared his throat then, ❝ that's normal though. so yeah, i am proud of him. ❞

barton turned his attention back to jervis and tilted his head at the other's sluggishness. being vulnerable like that surprisingly didn't feel too nerve-wracking, as he added just a bit more to the equation. barton gave the iv bag jervis was hooked up to a good squeeze, ❝ hmm. are you still in pain, jervis? or are you just tired? �� he observed the other silently and looked down at the cards before the both of them. that is, before barton heard jervis approve of him reading his fortune.

he drifted a hand along the cards then. choosing one that felt 'right' came without much difficulty to barton, and when he did, the reversed 'wheel of fortune' card for jervis's past. the next card he chose was the reversed 'six of swords' for jervis's present. barton flipped the last one for his future and was greeted by 'the sun,' which made him let out a soft 'huh' and smile a bit. ❝ well... i hate to start off with the past when you got this card, but i guess we have to. ❞ he was about to start interpreting jervis's fortune when jack came back into the room with the breakfast he promised the other. well, talk about convenient timing.

Jervis merely rolled his eyes at Barton’s remark, fingers biting into the fabric of the blanket as he pulled it around his shoulders like an old shawl. The plush material was a little threadbare at the corner; a tear disrupting the otherwise seamless fabric.

Sea-green and white plaid. Utilitarian, impersonal.

It sufficed perfectly; his thin frame was almost terminally intolerant to the cold. 27 years in Gotham had failed to inoculate him against the frigid rains and bone-chilling air sweeping off the harbor.

“Trust me, I’m well aware where I would be, if it weren’t for you both. I see enough of the place in my nightmares… so I don’t require any reminders.” He flexed his fingers around the teacup, feeling the warmth seep into his hands as he cautiously tipped the liquid into his mouth. It had a strange, but not unpleasant consistency, like warm, thin honey that slid smoothly over his tongue in a tangy blend of sweet and sour. Tiny bits of softened citrus peel floated in the syrupy mixture.

Barton’s IV pole scraped slightly along the concrete floor, a sharp metallic sound that mingled with the sudden rasp of the curtains being jerked shut. The room was clean and sparse, a sterile space designed to be free of clutter, yet a faint, telltale mustiness clung to the air—a lingering scent of damp fabric and stale dust that disinfectant alone couldn’t quite mask. Beyond the makeshift partition, the rest of the warehouse stretched out in vast, dark emptiness. The floor was cold, unpolished concrete, marred with cracks that split like spider webs. Dim, flickering fluorescent lights cast a harsh, uneven glow, barely cutting through the haze of dust that swirled in the air.

But, of course, beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to hideaways—especially when you’ve learned to take shelter wherever you can find it. Or when you were part of the criminal element.

How far he’d come and how little had truly changed.

Jervis glanced across the room at where his coat, shirt, and gloves rested neatly on the desk, carefully folded with almost surgical precision. He flexed his hands again around the teacup, feeling the phantom prickle of sensation where the wool-lined leather should be—an exposed vulnerability that gnawed at him, made his skin itch with invisible grime.

He sank his teeth into a particularly broad piece of yuja peel, the bitter tang releasing as he bit down; meanwhile, Barton’s voice drifted in one ear, out the other like the static hum on a faulty wireless. He chewed slowly, savoring the rind as he turned his attention back to the small tear in the blanket. Nodded intermittently.

Jervis’ callused, scarred fingers found the frayed edge; the fabric was worn thin and splitting, and he traced it absentmindedly, feeling the uneven fibers beneath his touch. For a moment, his thoughts shifted to the sewing kit buried somewhere in his bag, imagining the small spool of thread and the thin, glinting needles; each one ready to pierce the fabric and pull it back together.

As if stitching this small wound would make any real difference, he thought bitterly; like it could somehow soothe the cold reality pressing in on them from all sides… It was a small, pointless task, a flicker of control in a situation that felt like it was slipping away, unraveling faster than he could sew it back together. He knew it wouldn’t ameliorate anything—wouldn’t solve the problems looming larger than this tiny, frayed corner. And yet, his fingers lingered there, desperate for something tangible to fix; something he could make whole again, if only for a moment.

Jervis gave no reply as Barton moved to change his shirt; blinking hard as he gazed down at the floor, but the darkness behind his eyelids refused to stay empty. Flecks of indigo light bloomed in the black, shifting like dust motes that twisted with each beat of his heart. The room swam as he opened his eyes again, the ceiling blurred and murky like the styrofoam cup Alice stored her wet paintbrushes in. He scratched absently at the IV in his arm, feeling the tug of the thin plastic embedded in his skin but barely registering the discomfort. The bright pinpricks danced at the edges of his vision, trailing like little comets whenever he turned his head.

“You ought to be proud of him, I imagine. Your son… he seems like a good lad.” Jervis’ voice was a wisp of silk, smooth and thin, like it might unravel into nothing if he spoke too loudly. He tilted his head slightly, almost resembling a marionette on a slack string, the hint of a smile touching his lips but never quite reaching his eyes. He ran a finger along the rim of his teacup, the motion delicate and deliberate as he pondered Barton’s final query.

“Hmm… can you?” Gray eyes blinked slowly, the lids heavy and sluggish, further dragged down by fatigue. The question lingered in the air, softly innocuous. He glanced over at the tarot cards Jack left behind on the desk—arranged in a rough, careless spread, but somehow feeling deliberate, as though the cards had fallen exactly where they were meant to. The edges were worn, curling slightly; the images esoteric, half-familiar symbols. Stars, sun, moon, cups and swords, animals and human figures rendered in faded colors.

He paused, gaze narrowing, subtly curious despite the exhaustion that weighed down his expression. For a moment, his hand tightened around his teacup; twitched like he might reach out and touch them, as if by brushing the surface he could glean some hidden answer buried beneath the painted ink.

‘Why, they're only a pack of cards, after all.’

His grip on the blanket slipped momentarily, fumbling at the worn edge before he reached for his collar instead. He dug beneath the charcoal fabric of his T-shirt, searching with a practiced motion until his fingers found the tarnished silver chain again. He drew it out slowly, the weight of it comforting against his skin as he absently ran his thumb over his and Sylvie’s rings, threaded side by side on the links.

The metal was dull, no longer shining with the luster it once had, but it carried a certain softness now, smoothed by years of worry. His eyes dropped for a second before he let the chain slip back beneath his shirt. “By all means, if it tickles your fancy…” Jervis gave a short, rough half-shrug, the motion stunted as though his shoulder couldn’t quite decide whether to follow through.

#divingdownthehole #tw: grief.#tw: mentions of death.#tw: mentions of child death.#tw: negative thoughts.#OOH you used a quote from alice in wonderland in here? that is epic NGL though i don't think i know which one you used ahahhh #and AWW well gosh... you're going to make me blush now <33 but thank you so SO much for saying so + i just want you to know #that i enjoy writing with you a lot myself! but yeahhh i feel as if barton is a lot more quote unquote 'subdued' here than usual #but it kind of makes sense because this man hates being in the warehouse probably just as much as jervis honestly (': and with #everything that went on regarding the picture he found. all i can say to that is GAHHH but you're good!! don't even worry about it #i totally understand as i know i took a bit to reply to this one though that's just 'cause i want to give you the best quality reply #possible + sometimes i don't have much time to sit down and write but i did today tehe!!! but really? oh my gosh thank you VERY much-#for all of your kind words! it really means a lot to me that you not just like the little things i've put into his character but love them #;; like i don't even know what to say besides that makes me feel so happy!! but geezzz you're making me turn bright red like a tomato over #here now and simultaneously going to make me hashtag cry in the club. just the fact that he's fascinating to you is like... everything a #writer like me could dream of y'know? and i return the same feelings ten-fold because jervis is just SO interesting that i feel #like i can't get enough of roleplaying with your version of him (': but JSJSJ well alrighttt i'll try not to worry about the muse versus mu #thing then since you're being so sweet. and i thank you once more for that BUT 😭 THIS IS ME RN because you're also my bestie and-#being called a ray of sunshine is? possibly one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me?? so i'm giving you a big hug right now-#and letting you know i think you are an incredible human being. but yeahhh there's a UHHH whole terrible story behind that-#unfortunately but i'm just going to boil it down to: yves died and barton sought to essentially make him be a 'part' of him because #he actually has no idea how to healthily move on from... most relationships 🫠 so he decided to do something TOTALLY normal-#and replace one of his arms with yves's (sarcasm) but TBH i have to say i wouldn't even blame you if you weren't joking about that-#because this man is seriously WILDING for that. like barton is absolutely 100 percent not okay no matter what he tries to tell other #muses 💀

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bats-and-the-birds · 14 days ago

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The Batkids on being mistaken as Bruce's biological children.

Look, the Batkids have all been forced into various social gatherings, and enough of them share vague features with Bruce that some of the older members among Gotham's old money, or the younger ones that are out of the loop, sometimes mix up the facts.

Dick gets it from the very beginning. Old women pinch his cheeks, still tan from a life outside of Gotham's gloom, and tell him, Such a sweet little boy, and just like your father at your age. His hair used to stick up just like yours. Dick didn't like it at all. He bit the first person that told him he had Bruce's eyes, and stomped on the foot of an old politician that told him, With your father's height, I thought you'd be taller by now.

He laughs it off as an adult, but sometimes, it still eats at him. People still tell him that they thought he'd eventually be as tall as Bruce, or that he should be thankful for his inherited jaw line. It's not the comparison to Bruce that bothers him anymore, or even being mistaken as his son, but rather, the fact that he sometimes struggles to remember exactly where his features actually came from; parental faces turning fuzzy in his distant memory.

Jason thinks it's funny, the first time it happens. Mostly because it's his nose of all things. Your nose is bent, grumbled the old man sitting across from him at the gala, Just like your father's. Tough luck on the genetics. The man didn't realize the bent noses were because they'd both been broken in the past. Jason spent days after studying Bruce's face, trying to figure out if their noses really bent in the same way, and eventually came to the conclusion that, yeah, they really did. From that point on, each time either of them broke their nose, Jason would distantly think, Ah, damn, there goes the family resemblance.

As an adult, Jason takes care to make sure people don't often seen his face. The hood does a pretty good job of that. Besides, he doesn't move in circles where the mistake could be made anymore. Still, sometimes he looks in the mirror at the bump in his nose and thinks, Family resemblance. Yeah, right.

It happens less with Tim. Anyone that made the mistake with Jason and Dick also remembered Jack and Janet Drake. It's not until he's almost an adult that a new hire at Wayne Industries, some kid from out of town, sees him and Bruce in the office together and remarks, Oh, you two furrow your eyebrows in the same way when you think. My mom says that my dad and I do that too. We inherited it from my grandpa. Tim feels unsettled all day and makes a conscious effort to not to furrow his eyebrows anymore.

There's no mistake to make with Damian. At least, not the same one that can be made with the others. He's the blood son, and he's a perfect mix between Bruce and Talia. Of course, there's the well-meaning, if confused, adults that assume he's adopted like the others. He corrects them, swiftly, and sometimes aggressively.

There is one incident. It happens while Bruce is gone, after he's been staying with Grayson for a few months. He knew, of course, that people thought that Grayson looked like Bruce. He could even see the similarities. Superficially, of course. However, he never considered that Grayson looking like his father also meant that Grayson looked like him. Not until an old woman leaned over to him at a gala and said, You look just like your father when Mister Wayne first brought him out to these things. The hair, that disgruntled little frown. He hated these parties too. Couldn't ever sit still. Gosh, I really can't believe it's been long enough that he has a child of his own. It took Damian a while to realize what happened, and even then, he couldn't bring himself to tell her that he wasn't actually Grayson's son, or that he and Grayson weren't actually that far apart in age. He felt strangely guilty the rest of the night, and he never dared to tell Grayson about it.

It happened to Steph exactly once. Really, she doesn't look like Bruce at all. It was a man with exceptionally thick glasses, who actually told her that she reminded him of Martha Wayne. She's pretty sure he was just trying to be nice. She tries to forget about it. She never tells Bruce.

You have his eyes, is what Duke gets. Which confuses him, because, uh, no, he doesn't. Not even close like Dick's. He says as much to the woman that said it to him, and she squints her eyes at him and responds, No, you definitely do. Not in the shape or the color, but you look at things the same way he does. Duke thinks about that sometimes, and he swings back and forth between being annoyed and weirdly proud that he apparently looked at the world like Batman did.

People tell Cass that she has his smile. She beams with pride at that. After all, she learned it from him. She studied, closely, the way his mouth ticked up at the corners, both while he stretched the dazzling, fake smile across his face for the public, and the genuine, gentle smiles that he gave her while he helped tie her hair back or slip on her mask, and now she could replicate them both perfectly. She didn't like the fake one, but she knew it was necessary.

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st7rnioioss · 8 days ago

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WHEN BSF!CHRIS CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS AND THOUGHTS OFF INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... grinding, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), kissing ˚࿔ notes: i'd like to say beforehand this is a little further into their relationship! I'll add more background stuff later<33

chris was restless. he continued to toss and turn in your bed, finally settling on his side, one arm slung around you waist while gently tugging you closer to him, pressing your back flush against his chest while you were sleeping peacefully.

he tried to doze off, he really did. but sleep seemed like the furthest thing away when he laid there, listening to your soft breathing, as the only currently audible noise, feeling the way your chest rose and fell under his touch.

his mind was running a million miles an hour, and he couldn’t get it to stop. it was dirty, wrong thoughts—about you. his best friend since.. well, for as long as he could remember. it had become something more usual, but this time he couldn’t control it.

you’d always been attached to the hip, but never once had he thought about you like this. never had he wondered what you’d look like naked, vulnerable under him.. okay, maybe a few times, but never to this extent. you'd only gone as far as him showing you how to finger yourself properly, where he took over the job because he couldn't resist.

how would you react to his touch? would you reach for his hair? his arms? would you grab the sheets instead? what did your moan sound like?

the real question was why on earth he was having these dirty thoughts about you. you were the sweetest girl he’d ever laid his eyes on, so sweet it gave him a toothache whenever you’d innocently bat your eyes at him, begging him to go get ice cream with you.

gosh, make it stop, he thought to himself, groaning when he snaked his other hand down to try and ease his rock-hard cock, which only seemed to make it worse, hardening even more under his own touch.

he didn’t know what to do, and only to worsen his panicked state, you started turning, his arm momentarily slipping from your waist when you faced him.

your eyes were thankfully still shut, lips in a soft pout from the pillow pushing them together. the sight didn’t help either. nothing helped him ease his raging hard boner. you laid there, so pure, unknowing of his sinful thoughts while your peaceful, gentle look only made the tight restrain in his boxers worse.

sleep was out of reach by now, his hand desperately trying to relieve his aching cock with a groan by carefully rubbing his palm over the bulge—but then your eyes fluttered open. he stared down at you with widen eyes, almost in disbelief that he’d been caught somewhat rubbing himself through his pants, but you didn’t seem to notice right away.

“are you okay?” your soft voice was heard. “you seem restless..” yeah, his constant tossing and groaning woke you up, but not enough to fully comprehend the situation chris was in.

“i- i can’t sleep. that’s all,” he whispered back, blinking rapidly while your eyes scanned his face, roaming every feature you were so familiar with.

speculating about his somewhat unsure answer, your eyes made their way down his chest when he let another whine slip, noticing the way his palm pressed against his groin, and you immediately felt ten times more awake than you were before. heat rushed to your face, before your eyes met chris's desperate gaze.

“oh..” you quipped, suddenly hyper aware of every movement of his, every desperate groan you’d heard behind you just moments prior now making much more sense.

“p-please, just- just let me.. let me put it in,” chris pleaded miserably, letting his free hands knuckles brush over your reddening cheek, his touch gentle as ever.

“chris- no, we can’t..” your answer only made his dick harden, though it seemed fucked up. you were so damn innocent, a prude even. you’d always avoided the topic of sex, not daring to go down that path ever. but he knew that when it came to him, you could bend the rules. “please- i’ll make it quick, i’ll just put the tip in. it hurts so fucking bad,”

but something about the situation caused you to turn curious. chris begging for your touch, begging to let him do something about his hard erection, to touch you.

“okay..” attentively, you turned around to lay in your previous position on your side, chris's hand slipping from the front of his shorts, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“thank you, thanks- thank you,” he babbled, his clammy hands making their way to the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly pushing them down your thighs, until they pooled around your ankles, that you continued to gently kick off.

“i promise i’ll be careful, just the tip..” his breath fanned across your neck, making a soft gasp slip from your lips.

your eyes were wide open and lips parted when he hooked his hand under your thigh, gently lifting it to spread them apart, carefully placing your leg back down as if you were made of fragile porcelain.

“o-okay..” you spoke quietly, your breath hitching when his finger made contact with your panties, gently tugging them to the side. “already so wet f’me..” his voice was husky against your ear, lips grazing the sensitive skin as his thumb slowly ran between your slick folds, a weak moan falling from your parted lips.

you were driving him insane, already dripping for him, and it only took a couple right touches and words. oh, how bad he wanted to keep showing you how to feel good, let alone be the first one to. he'd already gotten his fair share on that part.

you’ve never been more nervous, but yet you felt safe with chris pressed so close up against you. it was chris after all, he’d never do anything to hurt you, plus, he was always so gentle with you whenever it came to stuff like this. your hands tugged the stuffed animal you usually slept with to your chest, nuzzling your nose into the neck of the teddy, the soft material under your fingertips easing your mind a little.

“i’ll be gentle, angel.. no need to worry,” he whispered, one of his hands maneuvering his shorts down mid-thigh, along with his boxers, the other one gently running down the side of your face, tugging a few strands of hair behind your ear.

he wrapped his palm around his cock, fisting his cock with a lewd moan, before bringing the head of his cock to your entrance.

“i’ll put it in now.. it’s just the tip, don’t panic..” he mumbled, pressing a reassuring series of kisses to the side of your neck, feeling you nod. “go- go ahead..”

those words was all he needed, gently smearing his sticky tip down your soaked folds, before pressing it forward, watching it disappear inside of you.

“holy- holy fuck..” he groaned between gritted teeth, his fingers gripping at your hip, a weak gasp elicited from your mouth. “oh, chris..”

your moan was silenced from the soft teddy in your arms, eyes fluttering shut at the slow intrusion, letting whines fall from your lips.

chris nearly lost his mind when he felt your walls squeeze around his tip—it took every fiber in his body not to stuff you full of his cock, not to completely ignore your previous, innocent words and start fucking into you.

“gosh- chris..” you whined, nails digging into the soft fur under your hands.

you could practically feel the desperation seep out of him from behind you, his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you.

“m’sorry angel, sorry.. i can’t hold back, please say something-“ chris's voice was strained with despair, his fingertips digging into your bare hip, smoothing his palm over your thigh.

“it’s- its okay..” you whispered, words somewhat muffled, but coherent. he was thankful almost, mumbling continuous praise and ‘thank you’ into your ear, smoothing his palms down your sides, under your top.

it sure was okay, he could tell. you were drooling around his tip, only making it easier to slide right in—which he did. holding tightly onto you, leaving kisses down your neck and back, he pushed his cock further inside of you, slowly.

“h-halfway, baby.. you’re doing so good,” he husked, his heart pounding in chest as he stilled his movements for a minute, allowing you to adjust.

you couldn’t keep quiet, eyes rolling to the back of your head while they fell shut, biting down onto the plush toy to restrain the moans. yet, pornographic whimpers slipped from your gritted teeth from the painful yet delicious stretch, making chris's head turn to mush.

“fuck.. you’re so perfect,” he hissed, sinking his length in until he was fully sheathed inside your heat with a sigh of relief.

blubbered moans fell shamelessly from the both of your lips as he slowly rutted against you, a hint of pain striking through you as you adjusted to his size.

you knew it was wrong. so, so wrong. friends didn’t do this, they really didn’t. what was gonna happen after this? would you just go to bed and wake up just usually tomorrow, just treating it as a favor?

but even though, you never wanted it to stop. his soft touch, lips continuing their work on your lower neck, stuffing you full of his cock when he rolled his hips.

“does it hurt?” he purred, his hot breath mingling on your neck, making a slight shiver run down your spine.

“no… chris, it feels- feels good,” you breathlessly whimpered, gripping the plush animal between your arms as if your life depended on it, listening to the dirty squelching of your pussy, basically drooling onto the soft material between your lips.

he only nodded, feeling your walls flutter around his cock, clenching and squeezing the life out of him. your back arched just slightly when he hit a specific spot within you, moaning loudly into the stuffed toy.

“y-you’re doing so well.. so beautiful,” he cooed, the praise going straight to the pit in your tummy, feeling the tension tighten as your teeth nibbled on the soft plushie.

“oh- oh my god..” without any warning, the waves came crashing over you, your chest heaving while your grip loosened on the soft plushie in your arms.

“jesus christ,” he panted, his slow but rhythmic thrusts continuing, until he reached his climax as well.

“shit- i’m gonna come,” he barely got to say, before the ropes of white spilled inside of you, letting out a shaky breath at the release of tension. you felt limp in his hold, your face growing hot, and heart racing with lidded eyes.

“thank you, thank you angel,” his breath hitched as he slowly pulled out. his pink lips left repeated kisses to the side of your face, listening intently to your breath regulating gradually, the pants turning back to the soft breaths he’d been listening to just moments prior.

you let a small smile break, nuzzling your nose back into the teddy bear to hide your blushing face, as if your back wasn’t turned to him. “it’s fine…”

his fingers danced across your waist, making their way to your hip, giving it a gentle pat as a dazed smile settled onto his lips.

“come on, pretty.. we gotta go pee,”

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

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