#i also was doing that thing with the kicking my legs and squealing

[zincbot]

misfits and magic has me smiling like you wouldn't believe. i'm enjoying myself so so so much

[hysteria-things]

SPACE CAMP

based off of this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt, soft dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a night in with alcohol, you and your two closest friends end up playing a game… not knowing what it can turn into.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, drinking, making out, oral (female & male receiving), blindfold, teasing, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, drunk(ish) sex, p in v, slight spit kink, degradation/praising, ass grabbing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,617

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: SHOUTOUT TO MY CUTESY 🧸 ANON AND ANOTHER ANON FOR MAKING THIS HAPPEN

buckle up everyone. told you it was worth the wait😇

nick wanted to hang out with madi tonight, leaving you and your two other best friends in your living room.

christopher and matthew sturniolo.

being friends for so long is such a blessing. some friendships either have drama or fall out, but not yours. the three of you are comfortable with doing almost anything together.

who knew that phrase would slap you in the face?

“so what’s this game about?” you ask, chris helping you tie the blindfold.

alcohol decorates the coffee table. there’s no doubt that you guys are a little drunk. “we are going to put on chapstick and you have to guess which flavor it is.”

“so we’re going to make out?” you laugh drunkenly. “cool.”

chris grabs the space camp box that’s on your bookshelf, opens the box, and places the chapstick down. they each grab one, smearing it nicely on their lips so the flavor will be able to pop.

kicking your feet and biting your lip in anticipation, you wait patiently. a hand then cups your cheek, lips smashing into yours. whoever this is kisses soft, lips moving in sync for a few seconds before pulling away.

smacking your lips together, you try to taste it. “watermelon?”

“nice.” matt says, moving out of the way for chris.

this time, the kiss is filled with hunger. your lips making a smacking sound while his tongue enters your mouth.

he stops, and you must admit that that kiss made your brain fuzzy and feel things between your thighs. “i know mint from anywhere.”

mint is easy to guess since the smell is so strong. they chuckle before one speaks.

“let's spruce it up a little” matt asks, looking over at his brother with a smirk on his face. he returns the same one, the triplet telepathy working like a charm.

furrowing your brows, you wait before a pair of hands start to pull down your pants. you bite your lip, the sudden air in the room hitting your clit when your bottoms are completely off.

a presence is felt in front of you, whoever it is blowing on your area. you jolt from it.

“sensitive.” matt points out, nibbling at your inner thighs.

you gasp once his tongue meets your core, licking strands up and down your slit. chest heaving, you squirm and moan softly.

chris smiles down at you, taking a piece of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. matt takes his thumbs to spread your folds wider, causing your arousal to drip all over his mouth and for him to dig deeper.

your hand rests on the back of his neck, purposely leaving him there. you start to moan uncontrollably, leaning your head on the back of the sofa. “matt.” you whine.

somehow, he manages to get his tongue so deep that you can only shiver and gasp from the feeling.

a familiar heat hits your stomach fast, but he pulls away. then, another figure kneels in front of you.

you have a few seconds to catch your breath, but this time you squeal and grip the person’s head.

unlike matt, instead of delving in, he sucks at your bud.

chris.

“oh, chris!” you mewl, your moans more high-pitched. even though they can’t see it, your eyes roll back and also start to water.

holding onto the sides of his head, you rut your hips upward. the way he’s suckling at your needy clit only makes you want more. “mm, chris! please go faster.” you whine, clenching around nothing.

both his tongue and lips continue to suck and lick, your legs opening wider. “you’re going to make me cum!” you moan, rubbing his hair with your fingertips.

just like matt, he pulls away.

“stop teasing me,” you whine, your pussy swollen and red from the edging. you exhale shakily, whining so pathetically. “please. please let me—”

“stop whining.” matt says, kneeling once again to get face to face with your dripping wetness.

it’s like the last time — his tongue moving at an animalistic pace, nose grazing your clit.

he lifts your legs onto his shoulders, the angle letting him hit a new spot.

a tear falls down your cheek, soft sobs and moans coming from your mouth. you’re far too sensitive for this, especially if it’s two people.

going to grab matt’s hair, a hand takes your wrists and lays them on your head, the other hand pulling you in to rest your cheek on his hard-on.

you whimper, another tear leaving your eyelid. “i want to touch him.”

“nah.” chris nonchalantly, caressing your head trying to soothe you from your panting.

mumbling something out of nowhere, matt stops, seeing if he heard you right. “what was that?”

your cheeks flush, nuzzling your head into Chris’s crotch. “daddy.” you whisper. “i need to cum.”

matt’s dick twitches in his pants, the erection only getting harder at your words. chris moved his hips forward from the sudden contact on his dick. the contact in question is your lips.

while matt’s eating you out, you kiss chris’ clothed boner. you moan on it, the vibration not helping his current state of mind.

“s-shit, y/n.” he stammers, throwing his head back. “fuck keep doing that.”

you listen, until the man between your legs hits that one spot inside you that has your toes curled. “i’m close, daddy!” you moan, arching your back with your mouth hanging open. “oh, f-fuck! i’m cumming.”

repeating the phrase rapidly, your legs squeeze in on his head and shake. then, your body unlooses, your orgasm dripping onto his face and the couch.

matt sits on the floor now, scooting back while chris lets go of your hands and takes the blindfold off.

it takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the light, but it hits you when you glance at your two best friends.

getting eaten out is one thing, but getting fucked by them is way different. however, you love the adrenaline of trying something new.

“get on your knees.” matt demands, motioning with his finger.

you listen, slowly making your way to the hardwood floor.

he smirks at how well you listen. “crawl to me.”

blush forms, your face becoming hot. you can’t tell if it’s because you’re embarrassed or because you’re so turned on by both of them.

you swiftly crawl toward matt, chris humming behind you at the way your pussy glistens by your movements.

once you are leveled with matt’s dick, you take off his belt before your hips get gripped. chris arches your back, feeling his tip coating itself with your juices.

you moan, continuing to take matt’s underwear off. chris groans, pushing into you with ease because of how wet you are.

inhaling sharply, you grab matt’s base and move your hand up and down it. he moans, his eyes not leaving contact with yours.

the boy behind you thrusts hard and fast, not having you adjust properly. whimpers leave your lips. man, he’s huge.

you try your best to keep matt occupied, by the pleasure feels so amazing that you stop moving your hand.

instead, you let go and look at him, face contorting in pleasure while moans come out of your agape mouth. “c-can i suck your cock, daddy?” you beg between noises. “i p-promise i’ll suck it good. i wan-want to feel your cock in my mouth.”

without saying a word, he grabs your head a pushes it down. you gag when your nose reaches his pubic bone. he does all the work and bobs your head. all you have to do is sit there and take two dicks.

the vibrations from your sounds vibrate through matt’s body. he smiles smugly, admiring how you’re under their control.

“damn, she’s tight.” chris grunts, grabbing your ass and jiggling it.

“so is this slutty mouth.” matt says, noticing the way you react by rolling your eyes back and moaning louder. “yeah? you like being our little slut?”

his grip tightens on your head and you wince. when your mouth reaches his tip, you spit on it… once, twice, three times before continuing.

matt groans. it’s a filthy sight, but he fucking adores it.

the echo of skin on skin bounces throughout the room, gulping and gagging flooding your ears.

“this is such a good pussy for such a good slut.” chris heaves, reaching between your thighs to rub your clit. your eyes widen, and your legs start to become jelly.

“mmfph clothe.” you try to warn, but for obvious reasons, you can’t.

matt’s balls tighten, immediately shooting his load down your throat. “that’s right.” he grunts, watching the way your hollow your cheeks to keep it in. “swallow it like a cumslut.”

finally being able to breathe again when he pulls out, you gasp for air but it soon turns into a scream when chris abuses that sweet spot.

matt lifts your head by the chin, leaning in to kiss you sloppily. he moans, biting your bottom lip and tugging at it when he tastes himself on your tastebuds.

“fuck yeah.” chris whispers when you start to streak your cream down his dick.

he pulls out, spurting his white on your back. (deep down he wishes he was able to finish inside you.)

you collapse on the ground, the two boys helping clean you and then themselves. after putting their clothes back on, they help you up and sit you back on the couch.

“put the blindfold back on.” matt asks.

your eyes widen, still dazed. “w-why?”

“because princess.” he says, grabbing the fabric and putting it back on your eyes. “we still have one more flavor left. you have a long night ahead of you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe

[metranart]

Why can't Dabi stop lusting over what Hawks has in his arms? YOU!

Dabi's lips still tingle, the sensation a permanent echo of the taste of you. He found it funny, that's why he did it, mere fun at the expense of his little sister's best friend, who was also Hawk's sidekick and most recent, flame.

Even so, he found himself drawn to you. Sparing you every glance when you were in Fuyumi's bedroom or in Hawk's arms... and from a simple kiss. Dabi hijacked your thoughts as you, his. Soon, the sporadic touches became a daily occurrence. The more you pretended to refuse, the more he insisted.

When he passed behind you in the kitchen his playful fingers would secretly trace your lower back, when you were invited to stay for dinner his foot would play with yours under the table, he accidentally bumped you only to leave the ghost of a kiss on your shoulder or neck, if he was lucky enough... and the most enthralling thing of all was that you never rejected him, you weren't afraid of him, and not seeing fear in the eyes of a woman he was genuinely interested in was almost intoxicatingly thrilling to Dabi, who had deprived himself of any semblance of reciprocal love.

Soon those little touches grew, you shouldn't have allowed it, but he was magnetic. His lips had mastered all your sweet spots making you a beggar of his affections, which led you to let his hands explore as well. You shouldn't had let him, not when you were dating his best friend. Even so, your neck leant on the curve that connects with his shoulder while he kissed your face and those stapled hands busied themselves in getting rid of the cumbersome clothes, your shame or embarrassment about being in the Todoroki family dining room forgotten.

"This is where I eat my food, princess," Touya said against your ear, "so it's only fitting that I take my next meal here, as well.”

He pressed your back against the wooden table, and it was only then, that you realized you had no clothes on, your skin touching the wood startled you.

"Relax, let me do this right."

The ex-villain, uncaring as he was, began to strip. His family could walk through the door at any moment, but he couldn’t care less. Pulled his shirt over his head, kicked his pants off when pulled at his ankles, and knelt in front of you.

“Fuck, you have me starving.”

You emitted a cute sound and felt him smirk against the inside of your thigh, licking and nibbling before his mouth opened wide to lightly bite the fat there and leave the clear mark of his teeth. You moaned hoarsely the whole time, and he chuckled, licking a long stripe along your folds with his fat, pierced tongue, almost making you cum right then and there.

“I Know,” he laughed quietly, breathily. “This are the disadvantages of me, making you cum this morning,” you covered your face with your hands and mumbled more to yourself. "I shouldn't have let you—"

"Yes, you should." He stood proud and occupied the place between your legs. “You, fucking should.”

Prodded the tip of his engorged cock against your tight slit, nestling the cockhead among your wet folds and gave a testing push, which thanks to your tightness made him slip to the side. 

"Shit! Do you want to drive me crazy, princess?"

You shivered a gasp and bucked up into him. "So impatient." That only served to make him laugh. 

In a hurry, dragged you to the edge of the table and spread your thighs farther apart to then lean down until his broad chest pressed to yours, and once comfortable with how close you were, held your arms by the wrists as he entered you, slowly, letting you devour him inch by inch, earning his right to be inside you.

Your breathing labored, followed by various squeals of pleasure. "Tight, tight, tight-" Dabi chanted, diving deeper until couldn’t go any farther, "-just how I like it."

He waited there for a minute, watching you the whole time, nursing his patience as you adjusted to his girthy size.

Your forehead eventually smoothened, and his eyes brightened, he thrusted his hips out and then in, in one devastating roll of his hips, your slapping flesh slowly began to make a delicious chorus. The stillness of the room made the sounds all the more embarrassing. Dabi was either confident that no one would enter out of the sudden, or anticipating that they would, and just didn't care. You on the other hand were awfully mortified. This was wrong in so many ways, and SO good in so many others.

His fingers dug into your wrists as he strokes your walls harder and harder with every thrust. Your body approaching the margins of overstimulation. The burning heat that each of his thrusts scraped into your very soul, turning your limbs into jelly.

Dabi granted you no mercy. Just as your little pants and whimpers tightened to despair, quiet cries of worry, he sped up, went faster and harder.

"H-Hold my hands, please-e" you begged, out of breath and he smirked, adoring how demolished you looked, his large hands abandoned your wrists slipping into your palms where your fingers intertwined. 

"Needy pretty thing," he scoffed, breathing labored yet amused, "...you'll be my end."

What had in the beginning started as a transparent agreement to wear off each other’s uncontrollable thirst in the most physical and salacious form had now turned into somewhat of an addiction.

Trying to get him out of your mind only made him nestle there more, and he knew it... and he did it on purpose. You could decipher it in his taunting laughs or the crazed grin on his face when his grunts turned to breathy sighs. And when you choked out that you were going to cum, he never slowed down, pushing you as far as he could to earn the blinding, fierce response from your body that he craved to see.

“Dabi-… Touya… Dammit! —” 

The orgasm ripping you apart from the inside made your mind scramble to find the right name to praise him, what was your relief when he found it delightfully funny.

“Don’t sweat it baby, I can be both.” 

He didn't stop shoving into you. The hypersensitivity threw your body into a rainbow of sensation. His balls tightened and tensed, and his smirking face, frowned. 

“Are you on the pill?” 

You denied your head and he huffed, a little annoyed. “F-Fine, I’ll do it outside.”

He slid his wet dick out of you and stroking himself just a couple of times, he came. Loud and vocal, grunting and growling as if the mere act hurt him. Hot jets of cum rained on your tits and tummy, hearing the wet squelch making you flush of embarrassment. Of course, Dabi found that particularly amusing. But the sight of his cum shining on your tits was a more rewarding sight on his own.

Touya smirked, chest filling with perverted pride as his knuckles smeared the whitish globes of creamy cum along your skin, his piercing stare following his own fingers as he wrote something over your cum-stained skin. A word his pride wouldn’t let him say out loud. 

Curiosity made you stare down, but the angle didn’t allow you to read it. Your eyes instead searched his with question, and he grinned down at you, not his usual sassy grin. 

“Nevermind.” 

He dismissed it and a swipe of his palm erased the traced letters, yet the feeling would not be erased that easily from the older Todoroki.

-

Takami Kiego was seeing RED.

“You DID know.” This could be the first time Dabi had ever seen Hawks that mad, “I’ve been dating her for more than two months…”

Dabi scrunched his nose. 

“Perhaps, you mentioned it—” 

“Unbelievable.” 

Hawks chuckled mirthlessly, ruffling his golden locks to release some steam, adjusting the visor on his eyes to better hide his murderous gaze. An awkward silence fell in which neither of them spoke for more than three minutes, before Keigo broke the silence.

“Who initiated it?”

Dabi shrugged, nonchalantly. “Don’t overthink-”

“Who?” he repeated firmly, and at the same dismissive attitude, he roared. “…. You?”

“Your truly, obviously.” Stated the ex-villain with some acidity, “… but as I said, she didn’t stop me.”

Hawks’ brow furrowed further, his wings bristling with sharp menace. Takami Keigo was good at masking his feelings, even playing double spy, but he was terrible at disguising his body language in front of Dabi… the firebender knew him too well.

“She pities you-”

The Winged Hero’s ire edged him to cruel words as he searched for an excuse to your actions and Dabi's amused laughter only deepened his frown.

“A pity fuck? Nah.” He scoffed, “If it had been just once, I’ll buy it but-”

“How many fucking times, you, asshole!” 

Hawks began to pace, wings bristled, stare sharp. Snorting through his mouth to try to calm down, Keigo was feeling a very real pang of murderous rage and jealousy piercing him from side to side, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. Because who could go head-to-head against the world's number two ProHero, after all. 

"I want you to stay away from her."

The Hero found himself saying like a sicko boyfriend, that's what the pyromaniac had reduced him to, it was pathetic but at that moment he was more than incapable of thinking straight.

Dabi straightened his back with a loud snap. He hated being ordered around, he hated being antagonized. The fumes were heating up, and he could start to feel his palms burning, skin buzzing with his old habit of burning whoever opposed him, he had to make a conscious effort to control the blue sparks that began to jump from his clenched fists.

“I met her first.” The Todoroki spat, carelessly. He knew he was on the wrong, he just didn’t care.

The Winged Hero did not retreat an inch. His intentions clear. “I've known her for longer than that. We are in a relationship-”

Dabi shook his head noticing Keigo’s self-pause and knowing the reason. “You aren’t, and you know it. Dating doesn’t make her exclusively yours.” 

Disagreement shone in their challenging gazes, neither ready to back down, neither ready to give in. When did the standoff started? It was a mystery even to them. Facing each other, their gazes locked in a silent fight, their body language dangerous and threatening, both unconsciously waiting for the flutter of a fly to engage in combat, both willing to do anything to keep you for their greedy selves. 

*READ THE COMPLETE 9000 WORD COMISSION IN MY PATREON. (Includes heavy/possessive/mouthwatering smut and NSFW art from scenes of the fic. Plus, lot of MHA NSFW content in general)

[skzms]

okay okay, hear me out.

pegging switch!jisung.

and minho is watching. what if reader got the dick molded after minho's? and obviously jisung is going to be a whimpering mess but what if minho gets fucking jealous because jisung is also making noises he doesn't usually make with minho? so what is reader doing differently with the same fucking dick? it would drive him fucking insane. and then he needs so much reassurance after and jisung would be more than willing to give that to him.

I can't stop thinking about it. ~ 🥟

friend ..... please ........ oh. my. god.

🔞 2.1k words; afab!reader but no gender specified uh ... pegging, unsurprisingly

"Ya-ah," Jisung pants out, every syllable deliciously punched out of him by another one of your languid thrusts into his hole. His expression has long melted into one of sheer pleasure where it's smushed against Minho's hip, his ability to suck Minho's cock long forgotten.

And it's not like Minho isn't enjoying the view, no. Really, it drives him absolutely insane, Jisung, pink and sweaty and absolutely fucked dumb, the knowledge that this is what Jisung looks like every time Minho fucks him into the mattress.

And he knows it's silly, completely nonsensical, to be jealous of you, his own partner, especially when you're fucking Jisung with a picture perfect silicone replica of his own cock, but he can't help it – the self-doubt bubbles, grows, rankling deeply in his chest with every raspy mewl Jisung lets out, every moan that starts low and peters out high, like his body is racked with wave and wave of pleasure.

"Fuuuuuuck, baby, ah, BABY," Jisung mewls, as a string of spit runs down his chin. His free hand scrambles to hold onto Minho, fingertips digging into his hipbone. "So good, baby, don't stop, don't fucking ... ah, stop."

Minho's cock twitches, despite himself. He's so hard it hurts, red and swollen and leaking pathetically where its lying against his stomach, still slick with Jisung's spit. How could it not when Jisung looks so fucking gone.

But that was the problem – he had never seen Jisung this gone. In all the years, all the nights of fucking, of lovemaking, of everything in between, never had Jisung looked and sounded so utterly out of his mind with pleasure, moaned so unabashedly, so obscenely that Minho knew they would get complaints.

What was different now? This was a replica of his cock, goddammit. And it wasn't even real. Silicone. It couldn't feel as good as the real thing, Minho knows. Real cock, hot and warm and pulsing, it's better, so much better. But you wouldn't be able to tell, looking at Jisung with his eyes permanently rolled back into his pretty little head.

And it's not like he didn't want him to enjoy it, god no. When you suggested it his heart had plummeted into his cock at the thought of you fucking Jisung. It lived up the hype, too, the image of your pretty hands around Jisung's hips, the focus on your face, the almost crazed look in your eyes as you buried the strap into him. The way you'd kicked Jisung's legs apart earlier, the way Jisung had squealed – that would be seared into Minho's memory for the rest of his life.

But now ... he just ... he didn't, but ... what were you doing that he couldn't? How the fuck were you taking Jisung apart like this, the way Minho had never ever managed to.

The thought gnaws at him, makes his dick soft in record time, though it's not like you can see or Jisung had the werewithal to notice – no, Jisung was drooling his way towards his orgasm with every controlled roll of your hips, every perfectly punctuated thrust, until you reached around him and tugged at his cock twice and then he came, choking on his own spit, gurgling and moaning, spilling and spilling over the sheets and Minho's legs until he has nothing left to give, before collapsing on Minho's chest.

Absentmindedly, Minho wraps an arm around him, watches quietly as you carefully pull out of Jisung, pat his ass when he mewls out a complaint. You're undoing the strap when Jisung finally manages to speak.

"That was the best dicking down I've ever had, hands down, sorry Minho," he giggles, and it's clearly, undoubtedly, 100% meant as a joke, meant to make you feel good about your first time pegging him (or anyone) but it slices right into Minho's chest.

"Ha," he breathes out, a cheap imitation of a careless laugh, but he's clearly lost his edge because Jisung's head whips around to him immediately, and you freeze, your hands hovering over the buckles.

"Hyung ...?" Jisung asks, his eyes wide, full of concern, and Minho can't bear the look of them. The self-doubt in his chest bubbles up, threatens to drown him. As gently as he can, he pushes Jisung off, tries to wiggle back, put some distance between him and them, but the headboard ruins his plans, so all he ends up achieving is pushing Jisung away.

He watches, devastated, as Jisung's lower lips wobbles, before he bravely swallows it down. Fuck, he should've kept it for longer, let Jisung's hormones settle, before he did something so … harsh.

You're unfrozen now, quickly tugging off the strap and carelessly chucking it down the side of the bed before carefully crawling closer to Minho, clearly wanting to be close to him, wanting to understand ...

Minho feels awful.

"It's nothing, don't worry," Minho mumbles, "I'm fine. Just ... felt overwhelmed."

Jisung blinks at him, then down at his soft cock, before he looks back at him with a furrow of his brow. Minho feels ridiculous, sitting there, with his flaccid dick out. Absentmindedly, he grabs one of the pillows next to him, shoves it over his lap. It makes him feel a little bit safer, at least. Creates a barrier between him and you and Jisung ... something he never wanted to want in the first place. Fuck, now there are tears starting to sting at his waterline.

"Minho?" you ask gently, and settle down to sit next to him, facing him, your thigh resting against his. But you don't attempt to get closer. Minho's grateful for that.

"It's nothing," Minho repeats, but Jisung isn't having any of it.

"What do you mean it's nothing? It's clearly not nothing," he exclaims, exasperation clear in his voice. "It's clearly not nothing. Did we do something? I was really out of it, I"m sorry, I don't remember. Did I say something? I probably said something ..."

He looks frazzled, loopy, his chest heaving quicker and quicker, like he's about to fly into a full-blown panic and Minho and you react at the same time.

Quickly, Minho tugs Jisung forward and against his chest, tucking him firmly under his arm. You scoot closer, too, your hand rubbing soothing, grounding circles into Jisung's back, his waist, his hip, anything you can reach.

"It's okay, Jisungie, calm down," Minho coos, but Jisung shakes his head.

"N-no, it's not okay, please tell me what I said, I'm sorry, whatever I did."

You shush him gently, learn forward to rest your head on Jisung's arm, peppering soft kisses up to his shoulder.

"Jisungie, it's okay, he loves you, I love you, it's all okay."

Jisung sniffles, and you are looking at him so tenderly, so full of care and worry as you press another kiss into his skin, right onto one of his beauty marks, and Minho breaks.

"I ... I got jealous," he breathes out. Jisung's head whips up, but Minho keeps his eyes on you. You look at him slowly, calmly. He holds onto your calm, hopes it will tether him through this.

"I was watching you and you were ... you were making sounds I never heard you make and I ... got in my head about it, I got jealous."

With the way he's staring at you, Minho catches the twinge of hurt that flashes over your face.

"It's stupid, it's dumb, it has nothing to do with you, it was all me and my stupid self-doubt," he mumbles, tries to make it better, but something he said must've hurt you, because you're avoiding his eyes now.

Unmoored, no longer tethered, he flounders.

"I swear, baby, please, it wasn't because you were making him feel good, because I enjoyed it, okay? I loved it, it was so fucking hot. I love when you make each other feel good. Hell, I love watching that the most. It was just a moment, just a stupid moment, okay, I just got into my own head."

He doesn't realise how fast his breath is coming until Jisung places his palm on one and presses his nose into Minho's other cheek. Minho tries to swallow down the panic, but it only makes him feel dizzy.

"It had nothing to do with you, ..." Minho mumbles out, pathetically. He reaches out to you, grabs your arm hesitantly, gently tugs at it, a wordless invitation into his arms – one that you take, to his immense relief.

You settle in against his shoulder, almost a mirror image to where Jisung is still cradling his face softly. Humming a melody, his own breath still hiccuping in his chest.

The three of you are quiet for a long time. Tucked into Minho’s arms, his fingers trailing softly over skin, Jisung’s arm slung over so he can touch you and vice versa - until the moment passes, the panic subsides. Lulled back into calm, Jisung is the first to speak.

“I wasn’t being serious, hyung, I hope you know that,” he says, quietly, hesitantly. Minho sighs and Jisung stiffens, but Minho presses a soft kiss into his hair, one that makes Jisung relax again.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs, and he finds that he means it. There’s a twinge where his heart is, but he means it.

Jisung pouts up at him, visibly not at all happy with Minho’s dismissal.

He extricates himself from Minho’s arms and moves so he can straddle Minho’s hips. His groin is still sticky with cum and lube, and it should be gross, but when has Minho ever been normal about Jisung.

You scoot your lower body away from Minho to accommodate for Jisung and Minho’s arm tightens around you automatically. He wants, no needs you close still. Both of you.

“Hyung, I just said it, it was just a throwaway comment. Because, I mean, god, Y/Nie, it was incredible. But it wasn’t better or worse than you Min, it was just …”

“Different,” you finish his sentence, nodding like it suddenly makes sense, “it’s the same with how both of you fuck me. Not one better than the other, both good in their own way.”

Jisung nods, smiles, squeezes your arm affectionately.

“Yeah, it was different. So, so good also because it was different. Because Y/Nie was fucking me, which is so mind-blowingly hot, but also because I could see you. I could hold onto you.”

Jisung leans down, folds himself over Minho and you until he can rest one sweet hand on your back, and cradle Minho’s face in his palm with the other. “I wouldn’t want to trade your cock for the world, hyung.”

He says it so earnestly, blinking at Minho with his big sparkly doe eyes, that it shocks a little giggle out of him. Jisung pouts again, his eyebrows pulling into an adorable little frown.

“Don’t laugh, I mean it! I love your cock!”

He wiggles around on Minho unhappily and in the process, grinds said cock against between his cheeks.

Minho’s laugh peters out into a little moan, and Jisung lights up with an unfairly sexy smirk as he grinds down with more intention.

“Can I show you, hyung?” he asks, “please can I show you?”

He swivels his hips, his wet, hot little hole catching ever so slightly on the head of Minho’s cock and Minho knows he’ll be rock hard again in seconds. He nods absentmindedly. As if it was ever a question.

Then, Minho feels you fingers, trailing a path over his stomach, up to his pecs, before you start rubbing the sensitive bud of his nipple. He gasps, whips his head over to you.

You’re staring up at him, lips slightly parted, watching him so intently he feels like he’s going insane. He dips down and presses his lips to yours in a messy, badly coordinated, but achingly loving kiss.

“Don’t be mad at me, please,” he mumbles against your lips, “I love you. I want you to love each other. I was being stupid.”

You shush him quietly, press another kiss to his parted lips. Jisung is grinding on him in earnest now, though he has slipped further down, allowing his own already hard again cock to slide against Minho’s in a sinuous glide that pulls sweet gasps from his lips.

“It’s okay, I get it,” you murmur, slide your tongue over his teeth sinfully. Minho’s cock throbs, and he nips at your bottom lip, so eager to taste, to devour you he can barely wait for the “I love you” to leave your bitten lips before he dives in and kisses you, hard.

And then Jisung reaches behind him, lines Minho up with his hole and sinks down and Minho sees stars.

“Let us show you how much we love you, hyung,” he rasps out.

And, god, does Minho feel loved.

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[diagonal-queen]

Uuuuuuh, an idea has just arrive on my mind🤭 you know that boys usually tease girls they like right? I’m really curious how Tachihara and tecchou would do it… (I’m really curious for tecchou😭)

Teasing their crush

♡ pairing: Tecchou Suehiro, Tachihara Michizou, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoyevsky x fem!Reader

♡ synopsis: How do these boys tease the girl that they like (that's you!)?

♡ cw: Swearing, Jouno suffers a lot, Fyodor is toxic as always, mention of suicide, I somehow manage to bring Astarion up here?? (sorry)

note: i know i know. it's been a while, and i apologise. i just have been so so busy. right now i'm in an exhausted trance writing this and i'm certain i'll wake up tomorrow with no recollection of writing it at all. also threw in dazai and fyodor for the sillies i hope you don't miiind~ as always apologies for errors and i hope you enjoy x

Tecchou:

I cannot see him teasing you.

I'm sorry anon but I just can't see him teasing a girl he likes. He would either be generally nice to her, super awkward but still okay, or just come off as cold and aloof. He wouldn't go out of his way to tease a girl or exchange playful banter with her

If he ever tried to tease he would probably just straight up be mean and insult you or something. And then he wouldn't understand why it didn't work

(Jouno is smacking his head against the wall)

Don't worry. If he's gonna cope with his feelings for you he's gonna do it in a way that benefits you i.e. he's just going to be super obvious about it and not even try to hide it

(update: Jouno is still smacking his head against the wall. someone help him)

Like he'll just openly buy you food and presents and tell you he likes you and like hold your hand and shit?? Tecchou is no-nonsense. He wants to date you, he'll let you know.

And it's not like Tecchou's trying any 'techniques' or anything like that. There is not a THOUGHT behind those beautiful eyes; he's just following his heart <3

Tecchou might be a bit dense when it comes to such socially complicated things as courting, but he's a genuine person and wants to make you feel appreciated, and let you know he loves you. He just does it in the only ways he knows how <3

Tachihara:

The opposite of Tecchou

He's such a teaser. He likes to make jokes with and poke fun at his love interests, but sometimes might go a bit too far with it (If he does he genuinely feels super bad and apologises dw T-T)

Like he's one of those kinds of guys who you would get so caught up in the flirty banter with that you just talk for hours

If you're texting you guys are both kicking your legs and squealing in between texts lowkey, like you're secretly such lovesick dorks but you play it so cool

Some kaguya sama love is war type shit you guys have going on

And god forbid you do this in front of other people. They're probably SO uncomfortable. Like oh my god get a room already (this dot point was ghostwritten by Jouno)

As you two get more and more into it, he becomes less tease-flirty and more sweet-flirty. He genuinely compliments you instead of exchanging little jabs and backhanded teases, and it's so CUTE

He also, for some reason, gets more shy instead of less shy. He blushes, he messes with his hair- AUGH he's so cute

In all honesty no matter what way, shape or form Tachihara flirts with you, even if he's awkward and fumbles each time, he's still such a charmer that you can't help but love him anyway. some messy hair and a sweet boyish grin goes a LONG way!

Dazai:

This is what I like to call Egotistical Flirting

He will tease you by telling you how much you love him, how much other women love him, how wonderful of a guy he is and how great of a deal he's constantly offering you. Yes, the 'deal' in question is dinner and a movie double suicide

And of course you roll your eyes and chuckle, and while he pretends that he's all offended that you aren't openly falling for it, he LOVES that. He loves your affectionate sarcasm and he could milk it out of you for days if he had the time

And he doesn't even wait to even learn your name before he immediately goes full on womaniser. He would just approach you like 'Heyyy~' and it's all downhill from there.

Dazai is a man on a MISSION is what I'm saying

He will also tease you by embarrassing you. He just says the most oUT OF POCKET stuff out of nowhere in public?? He absolutely delights in seeing you get all embarrassed and having you swat at him and scold him

(He's a bit of a masochist don't question it)

Naturally, this is generally a facade to hide the fact that he is hopelessly infatuated with you, and kinda scared of commitment. He hopes you'll accept him as he is but just in case... it's easier to put up a nonchalant front.

Don't worry Dazai. you've got nothing to worry about. :)

Fyodor:

Mind games. Mind games. MIND GAMES

And not the good kind!

He will tease you with this neat little trick he uses called psychological warfare. In his experience it's 100% effective

Fyodor is a toxic little shit. He doesn't often really 'tease' so much as 'neg'. He doesn't quite care too much about your esteem as long as he's able to make you like him back.

You guys know this thing called Ascended Astarion? yeah this is basically just that but ✨ Russian ✨

All this being said he actually does feel affection and love towards you, and he DOES care. He just doesn't want you to reject him, so he'll use any trick necessary to prevent that (regardless of general ethics for the most part)

Fyodor is an all rounder. He'll tease, show genuine affection, neg, flirt, stalk, lovebomb...the whole shebang (I'm sure he asked Nikolai for tips, and I'm even more sure Nikolai had MANY)

Fyodor is just so emotionally out of touch when it comes to other people that he genuinely has no idea how to just...flirt, or even really be casual, like a normal person. It would be sad if he wasn't such a motherfucker

Honestly all of you 'I could fix him' girlies would fall hook line and sinker for this (and I'm allowed to say that because I am one of you)

In the end...man, just date Tachihara

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl, @kokoenjiandco, @pinkiipeachiikeen, @call-me-albie

[sturniolo04]

Piggy Back Rides M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you love getting piggy back rides from your boyfriend

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

it was no secret you and matt love language was physical touch. Any chance you get you guys have to be touching each other it could even be a simple a linking pinkies for that matter you just had to been touching the other or you would go insane.

Although having been dating for a little over a year, you guys have figure out what form of physical touch you much crave from one another. Matt loves having his hands on you thighs it was not only a comfort thing for him especially when he was driving but it was also way to say that your were his and he and you knew it. For you you just love resting you head or even nuzzling your face in your boyfriends neck while your manicured hands run up and down his back or torso.

It was one of those nights that you were spending with your boyfriend and his brothers at their shared house, you sitting on the counter watching the triplets bicker about what to cook for dinner, them ultimately agreeing on mac and chesse.

" what are we wanting to do tomorrow"

nick asks chris and matt seeing they were all in kitchen still, matt turns around so his back was now facing you while he was still positioned in between your legs. You slowly sigh out clamly beginning to wrap your arms and let them drape over your boyfriends shoulders on either side.

" it doesnt matter to me honestly"

chris repsonds to his brother looking at matt as he shrugs his shoulder. you let out and audible sigh that your boyfriend could hear.

'whats wrong"

he chuckles out

" you have to move so i can get down"

"why"

"because matt im going to piss myself if you don't"

"i can just give you a piggy back ride there"

he chuckles grabbing your thighs wrapping them across his waist as you giggle tightly securing you arms around his neck.

"okay then byee"

you squeal out to nick and chris.

and thats how it started and it didn't have to be formal like that it could be a simple as you two standing in the position and not having a destination in mind.

" do you guys ever get tired of standing like that honey"

marylou asks her middle child seeing you were all standing in the kitchen with you clinging onto your boyfriend's back. As he simple shakes his head in response to his mom swaying from side to side knowing you are practically falling asleep from the motion.

"no mom they are always doing that and I don't get it"

nick complains out

"its fucking annoying"

chris chimes in as marylou smack him gently in the stomach for his choice of words.

"agh sorry mom but its true"

he groans out defending himself.

"okay then well do you like it"

she questions you smiling at you practically half asleep on her sons shoulder.

"mhm"

you yawn out letting your eyes flutter close.

"take her to bed honey"

marylou chuckles as matt walks upstairs saying good night to his family.

It's gotten to the point that sometimes mattt would even come up with any excuse to have you on his back.

"baby come on lets go for a walk"

matt pouts as he is standing in front of your sitting figure on your couch.

"matt it like 6:30 in the evening and its suppose to rain in like 20 mintues"

you huff out as he pushes his knee to push apart your knees to create space for in to sit in between them on the couch.

"matt what are you doing"

you giggle out just rolling with whatever your boyfriend is trying to do at this given moment. Matt proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck and then your legs after.

"matt"

you exclaim out as he stand up off of the couch jumping a few times to readjust you on his back and to get a better grip on your thighs. Matt starts making his way to the front door with you kicking you feet trying to get him to halt in his actions before walking out the front door seeing its now raining.

"matt no i dont want to get wet"

you groan and exclaim out, knowing even telling him this information he is still going to proceed to get you wet.

"oh come on its just rain"

he chuckles as he steps outside allowing the rain to start pouring over your guys figure, leaving a cool feeling on the bare skin of your arms.

"okay okay i want to go back inside now"

you complain to you boyfriend after being outside on just the driveway.

"MATTHEW"

you scream out as he sprints down the driveway into the street of the neighborhood, as you grip onto his shoulders tightly and then proceeding to dig your face into the side of his neck and shoulder as he spins you two around.

"look at these two idiots"

chris states from the inside of the house staring out the window with Nick right beside him recording the whole thing.

"they are so in love it make me sick honestly"

Nick jokes out as Chris chuckles.

In the end, to say piggy back rides have become you and matt's favorite thing would be an understatement.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @dirtylittleheart333 @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @stayingstromboli @aaliyahsturn

[rafesangelita]

i found your blog today and i’m so obsessed, i love it smmm! i was wondering if you could do a oneshot where reader finds out she’s pregnant and rafe is so sweet and supportive abt it. like he immediately starts treating her like she’s fragile to the touch and spoils her rotten :(((

- also idk if you do emoji anons but if you do, can i please be 🍓??

warnings: soft!rafe, unprotected sex, pregnancy

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, baby,” rafe groaned, about to pull out so he could finish on your tummy instead. “no, no, please cum inside me rafe!” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist so he couldn’t move. “shit- are you sure?” a groan fell from his lips, his hips stuttering as he continued thrusting into you. he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes as you nodded frantically. “yes, i’m sure. fill me up!” your words pushed him over the edge, both of you moaning in unison as he emptied himself inside of you

now, nearly a month later, here you were staring down at two pink lines. you chewed your lip nervously, taking a second test to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. sure enough, the pink lines showed up darker than the first ones. “i’m so pregnant.” you whispered to yourself, a smile forming on your lips as you used a pillow to muffle your scream. “no way!” you squealed, freezing once you realized you needed to tell rafe. “oh, fuck..” you glanced at the time on your phone, 4:30 PM. only thirty minutes left until he got home.

you rushed back into the bathroom, grabbing the tests and hiding them in the drawer. your mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to figure out how you’d break the news. you changed out of your clothes and into rafe’s favorite summer dress, quickly freshening up your hair. by the time rafe walked through the door, you were buzzing with excitement, fiddling with the ring on your finger. “hey, baby.” he pulled you into a hug, his arms swallowing whole. “how was that meeting with your dad?” you let him carry you to the couch, both of you sinking into the cushions with a sigh.

“good, real good,” he nodded. “it was funny, we met up with this family and they had these kids running around. ‘was real cute.” rafe smiled. “that was all my dad talked about on the way home, ‘said he needed to be a grandpa already.” he shook his head. you couldn’t help but gaze up at him. “what do you think about that? having kids?” rafe looked down at you, his eyes growing soft as he traced the curve of your lips. “oh, man. when that time comes, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’d be the most amazing mother to our babies.” he kissed your knuckles.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, rafe immediately pulling you against his chest. “what’s wrong, love? was it something i said?” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “no, it’s just.. i feel like i really needed to hear that.” you smiled, rubbing his chest. “you needed to hear me say that you’d be a great mother to our babies?” rafe sounded slightly confused, making you stand up. “stay here, i’m gonna get something.” your heart beat in your ears the whole way up and down the stairs, your hands shaking as you showed him the positive pregnancy tests.

he stared for a moment, slowly taking them from you. rafe was silent for a long time, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked up at you. “oh, my god.” he stood up, hands reaching out touch you as if you weren’t real. “oh, my god, baby..” he lowered himself on his knees, lining his head up with your stomach. he wrapped his arms around you, clutching the hem of your dress as he cried into your skin. “are you happy?” you squeaked out, running your fingers through his buzzed hair. “are you kidding me? this is the best day of my life.” he sniffled. picking you up bridal style, and carrying you upstairs.

“i’ve wanted this for a very long time.” he kissed you, laying you down ever so gently. “we’re going shopping first thing tomorrow,” he kicked off his shoes, “what’s that app you’re always on? picnic? painter?” you laughed. “pinterest, rafe.” he nodded, “yeah that,” he settled in next to you, draping an arm across your torso. “we’ll start looking for inspiration for the nursery, oh! and we should probably tell our families once we’re in the safe zone, just to make sure everything’s alright..” you sighed, tracing shapes into his skin as you shut your eyes momentarily. “thank you for being so sweet about all of this.” rafe rested his head in the crook of your neck, “of course.”

[castiwls]

i think he knows - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'He got that boyish look that i like in a man'

Requested; anonymous

Notes; Im not entirely happy with this one tbh and ill probs rewrite it when I've cleard my inbox tbh requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

You’d never been someone who jumped into relationships. You preferred to take things slow and get to know the person before jumping into a relationship with them. You’d dealt with your fair share of heartbreak over your life and had learnt a long time ago that jumping into a relationship was never a good idea.

Yet all that had been thrown away the moment Sam Winchester had walked into your life. You’d been taken immediately by the man and found yourself falling fast and hard. Lucky for you he’d seemed to share the same sentiments you had and your relationship had quickly evolved.

A small groan pulled your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man lying beside you. You turned your head smiling slightly as you noticed his tousled hair from sleep. “Morning.” You leaned down to gently press a kiss to his lips.

Sam smiled. “Morning.” 

He was quiet for a moment before a small smirk grew on his lips. You narrowed your eyes. “What are you planning?” You knew him well enough to know that grin meant he was plotting something. “Oh, nothing.” He shook his head, staring innocently at you. You hummed slightly sitting up in the bed, stretching your arms out in front of you. 

Just as you were about to move your legs off the bed you felt an arm snake around your waist. A yelp escaped you as Sam pulled you back against his chest. “Sam!” You turned your head to face him. He laughed, grinning down at you before loosening his grip enough for you to turn to face him.

One of the things that first attracted you to the youngest Winchester was the way he seemed to be able to still have his boyish charm while also being mature enough to handle a proper relationship.  

His hand moved to push a piece of hair from your face before he cupped your cheek. “I love you.” His other hand rubbed circles against your waist as he smiled softly at you. “I love you too.” 

Sam stared down at you as if you were the most important thing in the world. Ever since the moment he’d met you, he’d been absolutely taken by you. He’d become obsessed with the idea of you and the idea of being able to love you. 

And it seemed like for once the world was on his side. As he lay beside you he felt as if he was the luckiest man in the world. And you felt the exact same. 

You frowned feeling one of his hands slowly creep up the side of your chest slowly. You watched his hand for a moment before opening your mouth to ask him what he was doing. Just as you opened your mouth he quickly turned his touches from feather light. You squealed pushing at his hand.

“Sam. Stah-stop.” You kicked out your legs slightly feeling his grip only tighten on you. He smiled shaking his head. “I’m good.” His hand moved slightly higher to your arms which only made you thrash more. 

Your breaths came out in pants as he finally let up. You lay back against the pillow as you caught your breath, after a moment you turned your head back to look at the man beside you. 

You’d both hit the jackpot and you both knew it.

[allisluv]

Emily prentiss x single mom!reader, Emily introducing her new gf reader and her kid to the team?

meet the family -- e.p

summary: emily introduces you and your daughter, verity, to the team.

pairing: emily prentiss x single mom!reader

word count: 1.1k

content warnings: derek being a lovable menace and interrogating reader but he's just worried for emily! apart from that, i don't think there is anything else but if there is, just lmk! <3

author's note: thinking about turning this into a series so feel free to send in as many scenarios for these two as you'd like! <3

when emily tells you that she wants to introduce you to her friends from work, you're nervous, to say the least. you've heard great things about the bau— not only are they damn good at their job, they also treat each other like family.

you're sure they're lovely people, honest, but part of you wonders just how nice they will be when they find out you have a daughter. you've been going out with emily for the better part of six months, and while she has been nothing but supportive of you being a single mother, that doesn't mean everyone else will be as understanding.

over the last four years, you've faced a lot of backlash about being a single mother. in fact, you had started to give up hope altogether on finding someone new. people do not like to take someone on when they have priorities or "baggage", as one man called it. you were debating taking down your tinder profile when emily messaged you— and boy were you glad she did.

"relax, my love," emily soothes, resting her hand on your thigh as she focuses on the long stretch of road ahead. "it's just dinner. and i promise they don't bite. well, derek might, but he's all talk and i'll kick him in the balls if i have to."

you laugh, wiping your clammy palms down the front of your black blouse. "are you sure i look alright? i feel stupid in this skirt."

before emily can get a word in, verity pipes up from the backseat. "you look pretty, mommy."

you meet her eye in the rear view mirror and smile. her words settle your nerves ever so slightly. "thank you, honey."

"see?" emily quirks a brow. "verity knows her stuff, don't you, v?"

verity is too busy playing with her barbie dolls to give emily a proper answer, but she hums her agreement, which is good enough. emily brings your hand up to her mouth and presses soft kisses to your knuckles, something that she's learnt over the last few months that soothes you.

emily holds your hand, verity holding your other, as you walk into the restaurant. it's buzzing with life, and it's warm, which makes a change to the bitter cold outside.

you hear someone call emily's name, and your heart sinks into a pit in your stomach. as if she can sense your anxiety— and lets be real, she's a profiler, so she more than likely can— she squeezes your hand and leans down to kiss your forehead. "that's jj."

a blonde with bangs pulls emily into a hug as the rest of the team stand to their feet. before you have time to back out of the situation altogether, a woman with orangey-red hair squeals and envelopes you in her arms. "i'm penelope!"

"hi!" you giggle, placing a hand over your chest in an effort to keep your heart from beating so fast. you give her your name and she compliments you on how pretty you are. "thank you," you laugh.

as you go around the table, learning everyone's names-- david and jj and aaron and spencer and the infamous derek-- you feel a tug on your arm. verity's hiding behind your legs and you hoist her onto your hip, not caring who's watching. she winds her chubby arms around your neck, and buries her face into your blouse.

"who've we got here?" spencer smiles, trying to catch verity's eye.

you look to emily for help and she places a reassuring hand on your lower back. "this is my girlfriend, and her daughter, verity."

for a minute no one says anything, and you debate running back out the front door and away from the prying eyes. you swallow the lump in your throat as emily's thumb traces soothing patterns against your lower back.

aaron cracks a tiny smile, something that looks to be a rare occurrence, and puts his hands on his hips. "it's nice to meet you, verity. how old are you?" verity pulls her face away from where it's buried in your blouse for just long enough to hold up four small fingers. "i have a son, jack, who's just a little bit older than you! he's five! maybe next time i could bring him and the two of you could play together? how does that sound?"

verity flails her legs about, a sign that she wants to be let down. you oblige, and she stands by your side, gripping your hand like a vice. "does jack like superheroes?"

aaron grins. "he does indeed."

verity juts her chin out. "then it's a date."

the team erupt into laughter and derek mutters something fondly about how jack will have his work cut out with this one.

emily pulls your chair out and you sit down, offering your girlfriend a smile in return. she sits beside you and verity makes herself comfortable in the chair on your other side. "i couldn't find a babysitter on such short notice, i'm sorry."

spencer dismisses you with a wave of his hand. "don't be. 66% of babysitters are between the ages of 11 to 13 anyway. did you know that?"

you smile. emily had filled you in about spencer’s rambling. while some people found it annoying, you found it endearing. “i didn’t know that."

derek leans across the table, using his elbows to prop himself up. "so..." he says to you. "what are your intentions with emily?" penelope whacks him across the back of the head. "what? it's a simple question!"

your face flushes scarlet. emily takes your hand under the table. "well, my intentions with emily are strictly confidential, if you know what i mean." you bat your lashes and rest your chin in the palm of your hand. you cover verity's ears. "does that answer your question or do you need the nitty gritty details of our sex life, too?"

jj bursts into a fit if giggles, aaron almost chokes on his red wine and derek ducks his head to hide his embarrassed smile.

"she's fiery," david notes. "i can see why you like her, em."

"well, i'm in love with emily," you announce. "and, unfortunately for you guys, i'm in it for the long haul, so you're stuck with me." you catch derek's eye from over the rim of your cocktail glass. "have you got a problem with that?"

derek tongues the inside of his cheek, smiles, and shakes his head. "not at all. i hope you don't mind me being rude, i was just seeing if you could hold your own, that's all. no hard feelings?"

you shake his hand across the table. "no hard feelings."

emily lets go of your hand to fold her arms across her chest. "im glad the air is cleared between the two of you, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, i will castrate you."

"is that a threat?" derek muses.

"no," emily says, slipping her hand into yours. "It's a promise."

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims

(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)

Vox

You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.

He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.

Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.

Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.

That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.

But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.

If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.

He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.

He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).

If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).

If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.

Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.

He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.

If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.

He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.

"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."

Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.

Alastor

Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.

If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.

He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.

If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.

He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.

Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.

Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.

Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.

Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.

Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.

He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.

He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.

Lucifer

The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.

He makes you stim toys.

You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.

Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.

Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.

It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.

He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.

He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.

You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.

Literally, the definition of choas couple.

[makeyoumine69]

A little bit possessive

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x fem!Reader

CW: Smut, Daddy kink, pregnancy/breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, prone bone, power play, dirty talk, pet names, obsessive behavior, implied overstimulation.

A/N: Hello everyone, just wanted to drop this little drabble, seems like Daddy Kink is taking over me once again as I have been listening to too many of Lana's songs lately, especially THIS edit hits hard. Also, I want to thank everyone who still reads me, I'm struggling with several writing projects, but I hope such little drabbles can bring you some joy! Sending my love and hugs!💕

"Tell me," Bateman murmured, his voice low and commanding as he pushed just the tip inside you. "What exactly do you think you're going to do, hmm? Walk away? Find another man to play Daddy?" He thrust forward, filling you in one brutal motion, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh. "You're mine," Patrick growled through clenched teeth, his pace rough and relentless as he fucked you. "You're not going anywhere." He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips jerked forward, his cock slamming into your soaking slit. "And this baby? It's mine too. You won't find anyone else who can give you what I can." Patrick's hand moved to your throat, his grip tight as he thrust harder, pushing your body into the mattress with each movement. "You'll thank me," he sneered, diving deeper, reveling in the intoxicating sensation of your warmth. "You'll beg me to stay."

"No!" You blurted out, grabbing his hand that was painfully squeezing your neck. "It… it's not true!"

"Go ahead," he snapped darkly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me you don't need me. I dare you." Patrick's cock drove deep into you again, hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall. "Because the truth is… you can't fucking live without me." The man thrust harder, every move designed to make you understand exactly what he meant. "This is your life now, honey. With me. Only me." Bateman grinned, his breath hot against your skin. "And you're going to love every fucking second of it."

Sobbing, you tried to kick him off you and roll over, but Patrick was too strong, much stronger than you, there was not even a chance to fight him. "It hurts!" you squealed and closed your eyes, your legs already shaking. "I… I can't take it… anymore…"

Inflamed, Bateman pinned you to the mattress and then, in one swift motion, flipped you over so that you lay flat on your stomach. Whimpering and trembling, you struggled to crawl away from him, but the next thing you knew, Patrick was covering you from above, weighing you down and placing a pillow under your pubic bone before ramming into your sore, creamy cunt once more.

"Beg me to stop," the man taunted, thrusting harder, faster. "Beg me and maybe I'll think about it." His hand tightened around your shoulders as his other hand grabbed your ass, pulling you even closer as he pounded into you, ignoring your cries, your pleas for mercy.

"Enough…p-please!" You turned to look at him, but he just pushed your face into the pillow. "Mhmm…it's too deep!"

Bateman could feel his orgasm building, but he didn't stop, didn't slow down. He's not done yet. Not until you fully understood who owned you. Not until you were completely broken.

"You will never leave me," Patrick whispered, his voice raspy and full of conviction. "You belong to me now. And there's nothing you can do about it."

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[instant-delusions]

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹"Limitless"◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

wind pillar || shinazugawa sanemi × f! reader

cw! : typical sanemi behavior , smut : degradation, unprotected sex

a/n : people are calling characters 'lana del rey' coded, 'melanie martinez' coded - sanemi's fucking pink guy coded.

✧༺ 　　༻∞

'fuck this job' , you think while scrubbing away blood that has been splattered on the wind hashira's estate during yet another brutal training session. a kakushi, such as yourself, is hardly getting paid enough to do this.

'at least sanemi's not here' . obviously, his scary demeanor is well known throughout the demon slayer corps and the stress of being yelled at is something you'll gladly do without, even if the person yelling is as hot as he is. well, it's no secret - the open uniform showing his abs, the dominating aura, his voice, even the scars on his body are more than enough to have you daydreaming filthy things while he mercilessly attacks lower ranks.

you throw the now bloody rag into a basket with other cleaning utensils and make your way inside, looking for the room you got the tools from. the estate was huge, showing you once again that the checks both of you get are miles apart. sliding shoji after shoji open, you thank god once again for sanemi not being home. after around five minutes you decide to just put it somewhere and head home, dreamily thinking of the sake on your nightstand.

"fucking slacking off?" you squeal in shock as a nightmare became true. sanemi's leaning against one of the walls with a raised eyebrow - crazy, you didn't even hear his steps. "of course not, sir! I'm just unsure - where do you want me to put these?". thank god your voice didn't betray you, usually you would've shat yourself by now. the wind pillar glances at the utensils in your hand and looks right back at you, he's definitely mad, completely having read through your laziness. "I fucking hate people like you. you're working for me, know your place." quickly, he stepped towards you, ripping the basket from your hands and throwing it across the room.

'fuck, he's obviously had a bad day.' you flinched as the basket made contact with the wooden floor, hands shaking with anxiety. 'he won't hurt me, right?' . he stared down at you furiously, clicking his tongue - "won't even talk, huh? are you that much of a bitch?". lord, his words sting but you're way too tired for this, it's been fifteen hours. "sorry. I didn't think it mattered, really. won't happen again." you answered, realizing that your tone must've sounded way too half-assed. you started to bow, but the next second your were pressed against the floor with his hand around your neck, realizing what just happened you tried to squirm out of his hold.

"you're such a fucking brat, can't even do the simplest job." he leaned down, his breath fanning against your ear. "I think it's time someone put you in your place." sanemi whispered. his voice is raspy, low and it sends shocks down your body, straight to your pussy. fuck, you're scared but also in the process of being absolutely turned on - in a pathetic attempt to struggle, you kick your legs, though he immediately presses his body down to trap you, sliding a leg between yours. dangerously close to your core.

the hashira licks a stripe from your ear down to where your uniform begins, and starts undoing the buttons of your top. "w-wait!" you choke out with a beet-red face, uselessy grabbing at the fabric of his clothes. "shut the fuck up. my day's been shit, i need me some pussy to calm down. you can do at least one job right, bitch." he speaks harshly, but the words light a fire in you, the way he talks to you, it's way too hot . the last button of your top comes undone and sanemi throws it away carelessly, pressing two fingers against your clothed cunt and lapping at your boobs immediately. you moan out loud and grind your body against his - damn, you've heard he's hot-headed, but diving straight in like this? you waste no time in undoing his belt, and pushing his pants down. sanemi sits back on his knees and pulls his boxers and pants down enough to free his massive cock.

"how's that gonna fit?" you ask him unsure, in response he laughs out and pushes your skirt down. with his fingers he pulls your panties to the side and inserts one, moving his thumb in circular motions against your clit. "imma make it fit." he answers, your loud moans almost drowning out his voice. the wet noises of your pussy echo in the room as he begins to scissor into you. "fuck, your pussy's drooling over my fingers, straight onto the floor. aren't you embarrassed, you whore?" he punctures his words with another finger and you arch your back of the floor, mewling and whimpering at his brutal pace. " 'm coming, shinazugawa-san!" you shout, teary-eyed, but the hashira immediately redacts his fingers, holding them to his mouth and licking them clean - what a lewd sight. you huff in a disappointed manner, which makes the pillar smile for a split second. cute. "sanemi." he corrects - "you're gonna cum on my cock."

you look down to his dick and see it pulsing, veiny, girthy and long. a drop of pre cum sliding down its side. "like what you see?" he smirks, obviously, he caught you staring. you nod shyly and he slaps your cheek. "use your words, slut." looking up into his eyes, you lick your lips and say; "...want your cock, sanemi." that definitely made something snap in him. a fat drop of spit landed on his dick, which he smeared all over. with a strong grip on his cock, he slid it through your folds slowly, the head nudging your clit, until he finally decided to push in.

both of you moaned at the tight fit - "fuck, you got a virgin pussy, (y/n)." the way his cock stretched you into oblivion didn't make the use of your name go unnoticed. "you..." a loud moan erupted from your throat - "know my name?". sanemi pushed against your cervix, filling you to the absolute brim. "of course, stupid." he rasped, letting you adjust to his size. after a while, you wiggled your hips slightly, signaling him to move, which he definitely didn't need to hear twice. sanemi pulled his cock out almost all the way and pushed it back in, which made you scream so loudly, he caught your lips in a messy kiss. "what the fuck, you want muzan to hear us?" he spat, picking up his speed. his balls lewdly clapped against your asscheeks and the sound filled the room. you could feel a string of your wetness connect them and threw your legs around his waist, bringing him closer. "fuck...pretty girl can't get enough of me, huh? cock drunk already?". you trashed around, a drooling, moaning mess and sanemi swears it's one of the hottest views he's ever seen. connecting your lips once again, he goes even faster, surely bruising the back of your thighs. "sanemi...oh my god, cumming! cumming!" you threw your head back, spasming around him, trying to milk his cock. he moans loudly at the tightness.

with a few more thrusts, he spills deep inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum. sanemi pulls out with a sinful squelch and fingers the sperm that's threatening to spill out inside of you. like the gentleman he is, the man cleans you up and carries you to his futon. at this point, your shift has been 16 hours long and you can't wait to snuggle and sleep.

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— smoke some, drink some, pop one

pairing: vada cavell x fem!reader

warnings: smut, drug use, lesbian sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, slight roughness, unnecessary euphoria references

summary: you smoke dope. vada admits she has never eaten a girl out before. a practical demonstration ensues

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this was written under the influence of a travis scott song. expect anything. enjoy

You stare at the clock hanging above the blackboard anxiously, kicking your leg under the desk. The last few minutes of the last period always seem to stretch miles into infinity, and your patience is barely as flexible. The voice of the teacher has long since become background noise, the talk of equations and trigonometry and the finals week and how unprepared you were for it the last thing on your mind.

You pick your phone up for the millionth time to look at the messages still hanging and marked as unseen on your screen, eyes focusing on Vada’s name followed by an emoji of a puppy and a black heart.

‘got us enough to roll one’

��just one tho’

‘don’t wanna end up like last time’

You chuckle quietly – the sweet memories of you and Vada skinny dipping in a pond at night and then showing up half-naked at Nick’s door are definitely the ones you treasure most, even though you can barely piece them together.

You look out the window, lost in thought. Your teacher asks you a question – and then you're saved by the sound of the bell ringing across the building.

As soon as you hear it you’re up and all but bolting out the door, muttering a quick ‘bye’ to the teacher to maintain your good girl image that, to be honest, has been hanging by a thread ever since the day you started dating Vada.

Not that you really care about their opinion. You just don’t want the principal to call your mother again.

You speed walk through the corridor, try to remember which floor was Vada’s class on, before you’re stopped by a pair of hands wrapping around your waist.

“Hey there pretty girl.”

You squeal in surprise, turning around in your girlfriend’s arms. She’s grinning at you annoyingly, the little shit, but the small dimple on her right cheek makes it impossible to be mad at her.

“Fuck, Vada,” you huff, pinching her shoulder half-heartedly, “I’ve got a weak heart, remember?

She shrugs, leans in to kiss your pout away.

“Sorry. I got out early. Wanted to wait for you since apparently someone's not interested in answering any of my texts anymore.”

You kiss her back, smiling apologetically, “I was too excited to see you, I guess.”

The brunette hums, lacing her fingers with yours, “Where to then?”

You think about inviting her over to your place – it’s closer to school, and your mom is working till late evening, but the rationality clicks quicker. Your mom also happens to work as the district attorney of the town – you’re pretty damn sure she knows what pot smells like, and would be able to smell it hours after you and Vada have fucked beyond the common sense of ventilating the house.

So you do the next best thing, one that won’t get either of you in trouble – you hotbox in your girlfriend’s car. You realize it might soon become the best thing, because it hits so much better.

Vada gets greedy with the joint a few times – you have to remind her it’s puff puff pass, not puff puff kiss your girlfriend so she lets her guard down then puff again.

In a few minutes you’re in her lap and making out with her like it’s your last day on Earth, the two of you giggling into each other’s mouths when you accidentally press the horn with your butt a few times, the honking sound mixing with your laughter.

You can barely make Vada’s face out by the time the last of the joint fizzles out and starts to burn your fingertips, the smoke filling the car up to the brim, but her eyes stand out amidst the choking whiteness, her pupils almost heart-shaped as she watches you with a dopey grin.

When you open the door the smoke drifts up the sky in big clouds, and breathing clear oxygen almost feels weird.

You’re still giggling slightly as Vada fumbles with her pockets to find her keys, your soft lips pressing to the side of her neck in sweet pecks making the process of finding them unnecessarily hard.

She shushes you when you finally step inside, listening for any sounds, before closing the door behind you. As soon as you realize you’re alone in the house, you press your lips against Vada’s impatiently.

“Don’t forget– your shoes,” Vada manages between the kisses, shivering as you slide your hands under her oversized shirt, “I’m serious, you horndog. Mom hates it when the floors are dirty.”

You groan into her lips, pulling away to untie your Jordans, shaking on your unstable legs slightly, and make your way up the stairs into her room. Vada opens the window to let the fresh spring air sweep through the room, hoping it’ll be enough to help the smell of weed wear off your clothes and hair.

“Wanna watch a show?” She asks, gesturing to her laptop as you sit on her bed, crossing your legs.

“Mhm. You’re thinking Euphoria, aren’t you?” You snort, watching as your girlfriend slides next to you, “Because I think we’re pretty much in one.”

“So, like,” Vada trails off, her hands coming to rest on your hips in what she thinks is a subtle movement, “Would that make me Rue, then?”

She plays with a string on your pants, feeling almost embarassed about the corny things she's saying.

“And you – Jules?”

You hum, tilting your head with a coy grin, try and mull her innuendo over in your baked out mind. The comparison does seem familiar – especially with Vada’s puppy love towards you.

“Well, I liked their duo in the first season but... weren’t they, like... extremely toxic later on?”

Vada finally pulls in you to sit on her lap, your thighs bracketing hers, and it’s such close proximity you can count all the pretty freckles scattered across her face. You’d probably get lost at fifty, way too high for mathematics of any kind, even if it’s this romantic.

“You’re right. Fuck Euphoria,” she whispers, her gaze sliding to your lips, and you don’t waste any more time to press your lips to hers.

Kissing Vada has always been something to look forward to – warm and pleasant, makes your stomach flip when she’d bite your bottom lip and lick at your teeth. Kissing Vada whilst being slightly high is an out of this world feeling. Her nose presses into your cheek, and your palms slide to the back of her neck, fingers twirling her silky brown tresses idly.

You pull away for air, and it gets stuck in your throat as the brunette presses a kiss behind your ear, trailing the butterfly smooches down to your pulse point. Her hands are kept busy under your shirt, fingertips tracing up your stomach to your ribs.

“How many times have you ever been eaten out?”

A sudden but... not at all unwelcome question. You lean back on your hands, humming when her plush lips rest against your collarbone, and purse your lips in thought.

“Mm... once or twice. I don’t really keep any notches on my belt, y’know?”

Her hands tighten around your hips, and you chuckle.

“Drinking vinegar, are you now? Don’t worry. You have an opportunity to top them all.”

Vada averts her gaze suddenly. You frown, lean in to cup her face gently.

“What’s wrong?”

The brunette rubs her thumbs over your clothed thighs, then looks back up at you, a small frown on her face.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never... fucked anyone?” You're sure that's a lie – she's fucked you before.

“I’ve never given a girl head.”

You hum, reaching to hold her slightly shaky hands, slowly inching them closer to the waistband of your sweatpants, “I can teach you,” you suggest, biting your lip, “Show you what I like. That cool?”

Vada looks almost mesmerized. She nods, her gaze fixed on your pants, and you giggle as she tugs them down your legs, prompting you to slide off her lap to let her do so, the cool outside breeze hitting your warm skin and rising goosebumps in its wake.

“I listened to a podcast the other day,” she begins, “About cunnilingus. The host said the best advice she’s ever gotten was to google wielding techniques.”

You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Huh?”

Vada reaches for her phone on the bedside table, quickly unlocking it and typing something in the search bar. She selects a random picture and shows you the screen.

There are indeed blueprints of what looks like wielding seams, going from bottom to the top. The arrows are forming different patterns – there are zig-zags, crescents, a circular seam and a ‘figure 8’ seam...

For all the ridiculousness, they do seem... practical.

You smile and grab the phone, turning it off and tossing it somewhere back on the bed.

Of course she would do that – research stuff. It’s so fucking endearing it prompts you to wrap your hands around her neck and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Why not stick to the usual alphabet thing, hm?” You offer, “I can tell which letter I’d love the most.”

You lean in to whisper into her ear huskily, “It’s ‘V’.”

Vada shudders, making you smile. Then her hands grasp at your hips, tugging you closer, and your breath hitches at her sudden assertiveness.

The brunette bends her knees so that she’s level with your center and parts your legs slowly. You curse under your breath – you’re pretty much drenched right through your panties, and if Vada was just slightly more sober, she’d probably tease you about it, too. You’re glad she isn’t.

She leans in closer instead, tongue lolling out and pressing against your clothed cunt, licking a stripe up the smeared wetness there. Her fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear, and you tilt your hips up a bit to help her take it off, the movement causing your heat to press further into her mouth, making you whine.

Your panties are off, and so is Vada’s tongue.

She stares long enough for you to feel a bit conscious about yourself, and you move to close your legs on instinct, but her hands keep them apart. She hooks your ankles over her shoulders, shoots you a warning look. Her dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. The shyness and uncertainty is gone like it wasn’t even there.

You’re not sure if it’s weed, or if you’re being tricked, but this version of Vada is... new. Extremely hot, too.

She lowers herself so that she’s inches away from your pussy, her warm breath fanning your swollen clit – you're so strung up that you’re starting to feel a second heartbeat in between your legs. Vada looks up at you again, making sure you’re watching her as she flattens her tongue along your slit, collecting all the warm slick that leaked out from the moment she had you on her lap. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you sigh, hips buckling to meet her.

Despite all your confidence, you feel yourself crumble at the first touch of your girlfriend’s mouth on you – you’ve always preferred this over any kind of penetration, and Vada’s eagerness to please you doesn’t help.

She withdraws for a moment, and you find yourself missing her immediately.

“Is this okay?” She asks, palms caressing your thighs to soothe you.

“Don’t make me beg.” You breathe with a chuckle.

She laps at your folds, groaning at the saccharine warmth of your arousal coating her tongue – then leans back again, and you’re almost whining before she reaches her thumb to rub at your swollen clit, her breathing heavy as she watches you gush around nothing.

“Baby.” You whine pathetically, your knees coming together to try and push her face into you.

Vada doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest, her digit circling your sensitive spot, never taking her eyes away, “Hm?”

“Please,” you murmur, voice stifled by the hot arousal burning in your veins, “Want your mouth, baby. Want to cum on your tongue, please.”

The brunette digs her fingers into the soft flesh of your hips before wrapping her plump lips around your clit, gently sucking, and your thighs tighten around her head at the sudden overwhelmingly good feeling coursing through your body. You almost can’t believe how good it feels – how good Vada is, almost naturally talented at making your toes curl as she mouths at your dripping pussy, keeping a burning grip on your quivering legs. The immense amount of pleasure is so sudden you’re practically sobbing her name, your stomach tensing and hips bucking with each calculated flick of the girl’s tongue. The sheets under you are considerably darker than the rest, a pool of your cum along with the brunette’s spit dampening the area.

You’ve heard that drugs can expand your consciousness, but to such a degree that has you seeing stars as Vada eats you out like it’s her second nature...

Her tongue slips between your walls suddenly, causing you to arch your back into the air, hips rolling into her face. Her tongue continues to lap confidently, going in circles around your entrance. A shaky sigh leaves your lungs, and you have to clench your eyes shut.

“Vada, oh my god,” you breathe shakily, your voice tight and high, feeling you stomach coil, “I'm gonna cum– Fuck, fuck, Vada."

Her lips find your clit again, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your thighs clasping around her head so tight she swears her ears start to ring.

You shiver as the brunette drinks you up hungrily, your legs easing their hold on her, chest heaving with shuddering gasps.

“Oh, Vada. Fuck,” you mutter, resting your forearm over your eyes as you try to calm your speeding heart, “That was so... so good, baby. I think you lied to me. Either that, or you’re... a natural.” You chuckle breathlessly, raising a shaky hand to swipe some stray hairs from your forehead.

Your legs move to unhook themselves from the girl’s shoulders, taking pity on her most likely strained muscles, but Vada’s grip turns bruising on your legs. You’re pushed back further into the pillows suddenly, and before you can let out a single peep in alarm, she’s on you again.

Her hands reach to grasp under your knees, bending your legs up, your pussy spread open for her. She doesn’t relent — her hands hold your thighs as she all but buries her face in your heat, the movements of her tongue harsh. Fast. Merciless.

The sudden aggressiveness makes you let out a broken moan, your hands darting to tread through Vada’s hair, wanting her closer but away at the same time, the painful pleasure too much for your scrambled mush of a brain to handle.

“Oh my god, Vada!”

She leans away for a moment to trace two separate stripes from your entrance up to your clit with the tip of her tongue, and you whine, your foggy mind realizing that she has actually just done the letter thing, before she’s back on you like a hungry beast, jaw hanging open to wrap her mouth around your seizing cunt with an obscene slurping sound.

Your back arches as you cum harder than before, throwing your head back against bed and squeezing your eyes shut, your girlfriend’s name tumbling out of your mouth in an almost pornographic moan. You whine as Vada laps at your center with purpose, licking you clean, before pulling away mercifully.

There’s a cocky wolfish grin on the brunette’s face as she watches you open your eyes slowly, trying to compose yourself.

“How was that for a notch on your belt, hm?”

Shit. If you didn’t just experience the most intense orgasm in your life, you’d scoff at the smugness of her tone.

“I’m gonna be honest... I wasn’t sure I’d be into... that,” you say shakily, “But I guess I am now. Jesus Christ, Vada.”

“Just Vada is fine.” She gently caresses your hips, leans down to kiss your jaw lovingly, “Now...”

Her fingers lift the hem of your shirt up to your chest, blunt nails grazing the flesh under your breasts – she watches them rise and fall with your unsteady breaths.

“How about I salt the earth behind me so that no one ever stands a chance of owning you the way I do?”

[dadsbongos]

mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?

kink adventures tag 1.2 K words / warnings - mommy kink, stuckage, stepcest roleplay, p in v sex (unprotected), degradation? i think?

summary - tomura’s mental health and psychology is a nightmare which i thought should be highlighted here haha

~~~

"Honey!"

Wheels roll dully against the plastic mat beneath your boyfriend’s desk, then soft padding across carpet, then a twisted laugh, before finally the laundry room door creaks open. Brass handle thudding into the wall.

“What?”

Tomura’s tone is unusually callous, even downright bored, and you’d be offended if not for the sundress hanging around your spread thighs. Your precariously cramped waist between his dryer and the wall, and the budding anticipation swelling in your chest.

“Can you help me? I’m a little stuck…”

“Ugh,” with your head hanging, you can just barely peer at his socked feet behind you, he then falls to his knees. Sweatpants loose, a bulb growing more apparent at his groin. Uselessly his arms hang at his sides until they disappear up, two seconds later is the warmth of his palms on your hips, “Fine.”

You rock back towards him but make no other effort to slip from the gap, not that Tomura is actually pulling. He leans as if he is, and quiet, husky grunts leave his mouth as if he is, but the only difference in his hold is how he squeezes your love handles.

“How’d this even happen?” Tomura grumbles, one hand moving to the back of your neck and wrapping it with his hand to pull again, “You’re such a ditz, dunno how my dad married you.”

“Be nice!”

“Only thing you’re good for is…” he yanks you back, jerking your rear into his erection and grinding against you. His thumb brushes tenderly along the column of your throat, “I bet he doesn’t even give it to you right. Old, limp bastard,” he squeezes around the back of your neck, “You walk around here practically begging for it,” he sighs, “You’re meant to be a slut, not a housewife.”

“What’re you doing, Tomura?” you drawl your voice a little more shrill, kicking flaccidly at his thighs as he uses both hands to work down his pants. Knuckles scratching your skin, “Get me out!”

“I will,” he reaches beneath the soft, thin skirt of your dress to pull down your panties, “Gotta get you wet, add some friction, it’s pretty basic. Though, I guess someone like you wouldn’t understand that.”

Tomura is disturbingly good at the bratty step-son character.

Weirdly, it makes you push further into him.

Papping the flushed head of his cock against your slit, Tomura spreads you open with his tip, pouring into the way his girth is swallowed by your slick. Your back arches, chest burdening the floor, a soft whine escapes you, making Tomura reattach his hand on your neck. Palming your throat to use as leverage as he bucks inside you.

“Tomura,” you whine.

“Tenko.”

“Huh?”

As a distraction, you assume, Tomura thrusts until his thighs are clapping yours. He huffs and groans, “Call me Tenko.”

“Tenko,” you moan, his hand squeezing the sides of your neck, and the other wringing you back into him by your waist.

“Yeah, mommy?” surprise wavers your arousal again, “Something you need to say? Or do you just like squealing?”

“Tenko…?”

His chapped lips find your pulse, sucking and biting along your neck, tongue affectionately cooling his teeth marks. You feel as if you two should talk about this.

You also feel as if Tomura’s not in the talking mood.

You decide to temper your confusion for now, instead meeting him at every thrust.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, raking blunt nails along your hips, “So wet for me,” just to rub in the point, his hand on your neck flies under your dress and between your legs. Fingers dance along where his cock splits you open, glossing his fingers just to dangle in your face obnoxiously, “You like me that much?”

Tomura flips up the flowy skirt of your dress entirely, fake AC goodness melting away under frizzling, spastic energy. Slowly, he glides out of your cunt just to feel the slow suck and squeeze of your inside. Hot and gooey.

“What if he came home right now, huh?”

Yeah, what if?

You’d be exposed -- soaking and full of dick, chirping out little “ah, ah, ah!”s at Tomura’s demanding plunges. The taboo nature only makes you tighten around him, flinging a hand back to snag his loose shirt and wrangle him nigh on top of you. Vague buzzing flows from behind you, the raspy and teasing foundation of Tomura’s voice -- not that you’re listening. You’re smothering his sound with moans and whines of your own. Content to wail against the back wall of Tomura’s laundry room until he plucks you out from the gap by your neck.

“You listenin’?” he cackles, rolling you onto the cold laundry floor before lugging your thighs into his hands and gleefully listening to wheeze as he presses them to your chest. Dipping back into your plush cunt, Tomura hands his head and babbles lamely, “Tell me you need it, mommy. You want my cum, right? Tell me I can cum in you.”

“Want it so bad, baby,” you gasp and twitch under his newfound vigor, “Cum in me, cum for mommy.”

Heat flares in your face as you call yourself such a perverted title.

But you just can’t stop.

“Mommy loves your cock, honey.”

“Uh-huh?” Tomura’s cheeks are stained red, voice now dripping pathetic.

“Fucking mommy so well.”

“Uh-huh?” he inhales sharply, eyes clenched shut.

He stretches over you, muffling your next sentence by obsessively kissing your lips.

“Such a good boy.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh?” he mutters against your lips.

“Cum inside mommy, Tenko,” you coo, back arching off the floor.

“Ohmygod, fuck!” Tomura stills inside your cunt, eyes flying open as he heaves for breath -- cum spilling inside you, “Fuck me!”

He collapses onto you, releasing your legs to curl around him. You scratch through his shaggy hair silently, letting your eyes flutter closed. You allow yourself to bask in the moment before ‘spontaneously’ Remembering™.

. . .

“So…” you drawl, post euphoria glow fading way to curiosity, both natural and morbid, “Tenko?”

“I changed my name. A long time ago. I don’t go by Tenko anymore.”

“Obviously,” you sit up, elbows pitched against the hardwood floor. He can sense your upset, he must be able to because he’s pointedly ignoring your stare, “Tomura.”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know about?” in his silence, you flood the room with more words, “I get it, if there’s something you’re not ready to share. I just don’t want you to think you have to keep anything from me. Or that, I dunno. I don’t like the idea of finding something out like this, but years down the line. Or from one of your friends. I don’t want to not know you.”

Tomura’s only response is a quiet, “You want to be together years down the line?”

“Yeah,” you’d feel ridiculous for the admission, if Tomura didn’t look more flustered than you felt, “But you should probably be more open with me, you know?”

“It’s nothing,” he sighs, shakes his head, and quickly continues before you can pout, “I just hated my given name, so I started going by Tomura in grade school. Had it legally changed a few years ago.”

“That’s all?”

“I don’t talk to my Dad. And not usually my mom. Sometimes my sister.”

“Okay,” you can faintly string those details altogether, laying back down, “Thanks for sharing.”

Tomura yawns with a small nod, tightening his arms around you, “Now you have to tell me something when I’m in my right mind.”

“Okay :3 ”

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

need to know how the ghoul would feel about seeing his lil vaultie reader put on a pair of heels she found🤭 something tells me cooper had a thing for em and forgot all about them til now

See, one of the things I love most about having my ask box open is finding out over and over that y'all really do think just like me. I couldn't agree more: this man absolutely had and has a serious high heel and leg thing.

When you first discover the trunk of old clothes, he would be annoyed at you wanting to waste time playing dress-up, but coming across well-preserved pieces of old world clothing is such a rarity, and this stuff is even in your size! He would get a kick out of watching you try on different pieces of clothing, but when he sees you pull on a pair of pumps, he's hyperfixated in a way that doesn't even really register with him consciously.

Then, when you've had your fill and you're ready to put your clothes and armor back on, he waits for you to strip out of the clothes and then tells you to put the shoes back on, a glint in his eye you recognize well. Big into heels combined with nudity; it drives him nearly feral, pinning you to the floor to run his hands and mouth over every inch of your legs and ass. Feeling his tongue trace over every curve of your shin and calf is ticklish and makes you squeal and giggle, but soon you're begging for him to fuck you.

And boy, get ready to be fucked six ways to Sunday with those heels on. You express concern that you'll scratch or hurt him with the sharp bits and he feverishly tells you to shut up about it, already lifting your legs onto his shoulders. The entire time, he's groping at your legs and ass, feeling down as close to the heels as he can. When everything is said and done, the shoes, at the very least, are coming with you.

And, IN MY EXPERIENCE, men who are really, really into high heels are usually more than a little into feet (you are not allowed to hate me for saying this). The High Heel Incident would really unlock something in him about that, something that he may have been too embarrassed to admit to, or even think much about, before the war. He might find it less odd that he finds your smooth little feet so intriguing now that he is the way he is; I mean, you're so soft everywhere, so different from him. Fixating a bit on that specific part doesn't mean anything, right?

Look forward to him stealing way more little glances at your bare feet in the rare moments you'd feel comfortable enough to take your boots/shoes off, and definitely look forward to him eventually offering to massage them when you complain that they hurt from all the walking. It is not a selfless offer by any means.

Also...I'm just saying...if you wanted to rub your feet on his cock at any time...he wouldn't be mad...

[august-anon]

Training Montage

#AugTickletober2024 Days 13 & 14, Win & Lose

My first tickletober fic of the year, and my first time exploring writing with DC characters! I have been. Hyperfixating on the batfamily (which has broadened to a far larger amount of DC characters now and continues to grow, i will never escape DC lol) since like. June. So this has been a long time coming skjdfhdf

Also this fic features FULLY PLATONIC AND NOT WEIRD parent-child tickles so if that's not your thing this is not your fic!

You can blame this fic on that one quick scene in BTAS episodes Robin's Reckoning where Dick and Bruce are fencing and then start goofing off, and also the part with Bruce and Jason in @/fickle-tiction's fic For Old Time's Sake.

Also, disclaimer: i have only consumed so much canon media, very little of it so far being comics and most of it being DCAU, so my current knowledge of a LOT of these characters is very fanon-based, so the characterization will also be very fanon-based

-------------

Fandom: DC - Batfam

Ship(s): NONE/GEN/PLATONIC - under no circumstances is this Batcest

Characters (lee/ler): Switch!Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian

Word Count: 4609 words

Summary: Snippets of Bruce training with his sons over the years.

[ao3 link]

-------------

Dick’s training was progressing exceptionally well. He had always been fast and agile thanks to his acrobatic upbringing, but he was quick to pick up the offensive and defensive maneuvers Bruce was trying to impart. Still, he was so young. Sometimes Bruce couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing, bringing a child into this life.

It became all too apparent in moments like these, where training suddenly switched from work into play with just a few of Dick’s childish giggles. Bruce couldn’t help the grin they brought to his own face, laughing a little himself as Dick dove into the open space between Bruce’s legs to evade a grapple.

“Okay, now you’re gonna get it,” he said.

Dick kept giggling, the laughter melting into a yelp as Bruce grabbed the edge of the training mat and yanked, sending Dick crashing down onto the plush surface. Bruce launched after him, wiggling fingers outstretched like weapons.

“No fair!” Dick shouted, his giggling bubbling up into full laughter as he tried to squirm away from the hands squeezing his sides. “You cheated!”

“Oh, yeah?” 

He tripped his fingers up to Dick’s ribs, laughing along as Dick flopped around like a fish out of water. It was adorable how uncoordinated Dick became when he was tickled, all that acrobatic control flying out the window. 

“Cheating cheater!” Dick screeched, kicking his legs and rolling onto his back to dislodge Bruce. All he accomplished was opening up his stomach for Bruce to target.

“You’ve got to learn to fight dirty, Dick,” Bruce said, trying to adopt the tone he often used to give corrections in training but falling closer to amused than anything. “A mugger on the street isn’t going to fight fair.”

“A mugger isn’t gonna tickle me, B!” He squealed as Bruce’s hands tried to sneak into his armpits, clamping his arms down tight as if it would do anything to keep Bruce out.

“Hmm, you never know.”

“B!”

Bruce’s own fond laughter was cut short as a small foot caught him in the jaw, sending him down to the floor. Dick really was improving, that kick packed way more punch than any ten year old should. That was definitely going to bruise.

“That’s what you get,” Dick said through his giggles. He sat up as they slowly petered out, eyeing Bruce’s prone form. “Uh, B? You good?”

Quick as lightning, Bruce shot a hand out to wrap around a tiny ankle. He shot Dick his best evil grin. “Not bad. But you’re going to regret that.”

Dick’s squeaky, childish laughter echoed throughout the Cave once more. 

_____

Training with Jason was tricky. When he’d first brought Jason to the Manor, they could hardly share a room without Jason bristling. If he made any sudden movements or showed any signs of anger, Jason tensed and shied away as if preparing for a strike, even if he kept up his hissing and spitting and posturing all the while.

It made sparring quite the issue when preparing Jason to take up the Robin mantle. Initially, Bruce thought it might’ve helped if Dick were around more often – Jason always seemed less wary of him, whether it was the fact that they were closer in age or something else, Bruce had no idea – but these days their arguments were explosive and often had Dick not speaking to him for weeks at a time. 

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Dick being present for training only added to the tension. 

“You need to tuck your legs more for that flip.”

“I fucking know–”

“Language, Jason.”

“Yeah, Jason, language.”

“I’ll show you language–”

“Boys!”

The two snapped their mouths shut, glaring at Bruce, and he had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Maybe Bruce should’ve thought through giving Jason the Robin mantle a little more carefully. Maybe it would’ve minimized the sniping by at least some amount.

“Perhaps we should switch to sparring, for now,” Bruce said. “Who wants to go first?”

Jason’s shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately, due to Dick focusing more on his phone than training, Bruce was the only one to notice.

Dick scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think so, you big fat cheater.”

Bruce shot Dick a look, but his eyes were still glued to his phone as he lounged across one of the benches. He forced himself to swallow his frustration. He promised Alfred that he’d try his best not to start a fight today – Alfred wanted a family dinner tonight, and Bruce couldn’t deny that the prospect sounded nice.

Bruce led Jason into a spar, both of them tight with tension. Dick split his attention between furiously texting – probably the Teen Titan’s group chat, if Bruce had to guess – and lazily watching their spar. Eventually they managed to settle into a sort of rhythm despite the tension thrumming through them, at least until Bruce brought attention to an open window in Jason’s defense. Of course, he would never hit his children, sparring or not, but instead of the usual controlled tap he would use on Jason, Bruce forgot himself for a moment and delivered a sneaky pinch to Jason’s side.

The squeal that echoed through the Cave’s training grounds got even Dick’s attention, his phone falling smack onto his nose as he fumbled it in surprise. Everyone froze, eyes wide. Jason blinked in Bruce’s direction for a moment before his cheeks flushed bright red, completely detracting from the scowl he twisted his face into.

“I’m not ticklish,” Jason stated, his voice as close to a growl as a pre-pubescent child could get.

It took all of Bruce’s Batman training to fight down his smile. “Of course not. No one said you were.”

Jason crossed his arms over his chest, shuffling his feet. “Good. Because I’m not.”

Dick leaned forward, almost rolling off the bench, a smug smile on his face. Bruce shot him a warning look, and the teasing expression melted into a pout. It seemed as though Bruce wasn’t the only one who got a lecture from Alfred.

“Bruce has always been a dirty cheat,” Dick said instead of whatever taunt he’d cut off. 

Jason turned and blinked at him.

Dick raised his eyebrows. “He’s always been a massive tickle monster.”

“Hey,” Bruce said. “From what I remember, there was a rambunctious little boy who often asked for the tickle monster.”

Dick scowled at him, his own cheeks turning red to match Jason’s. “I did no such thing.” He turned to Jason and shrugged. “He used to do it all the time, he hated pretending to hit me so he always tickled me instead.” His eyes flickered to Bruce for a moment, a smirk growing on his face. “Good thing you’re not ticklish then, huh, Jay?”

“... Right.”

Bruce guided Jason back into the spar. This time, Jason was noticeably looser and more focused. His body still carried some amount of that wary tension, but he was no longer eyeing Bruce like he was a cornered animal. When Jason’s guard slipped again, leaving the same window open, Bruce didn’t hesitate in his attack.

“You need to watch your left,” he instructed, reaching out and squeezing at Jason’s side once more.

Jason let out another loud squeal, making Dick laugh and Bruce fail to shove down another smile. Jason tripped over his own feet as he tried to scramble away and landed on the mat. Bruce followed him down, careful to kneel next to him and leave plenty of openings for Jason to escape if he felt trapped. He wiggled his fingers against Jason’s sides, breaking into a grin at the giggles it produced.

“Bruce!”

Bruce chuckled. “Yes, Jaylad?”

Jason kicked his feet out and curled into a ball as best as he could, but he didn’t roll away from Bruce’s hands or shout at him to stop. Bruce allowed his hands to converge on Jason’s stomach as he uncurled with another kick, earning himself a bout of loud laughter that he’d never heard Jason make before. Jason struggled to thrust a hand out, reaching in Dick’s direction.

“Dick, help me!”

Behind him, Bruce heard the bench shift and the unconscious hums Dick would make when he stretched out his muscles. Then, there was a battle cry and the thudding sound of feet against the training mats.

“I’ll save you, Jay!”

Bruce braced as Dick launched onto his back – DIck definitely wasn’t twelve anymore, and Bruce worried that he’d be feeling that one in the morning – and locked his arms around Bruce’s neck. Jason got a brief reprieve as Bruce flipped Dick over his shoulder, both of them laughing all the while. Dick smacked into the mats next to Jason with a wheeze, and Bruce waited a moment for him to get a breath in before he attacked once more, a set of wiggling fingers for each son.

Dick’s thrashing was chaotic as ever as he cackled, Bruce deciding to be a bit mean and sneak his fingers directly into Dick’s underarm. Jason curled into a giggling little ball once more, jolting as Bruce gently pinched up and down his ribcage.

“B! You asshole!” Dick shrieked.

Bruce laughed. “You brought this on yourself, chum.”

Training with Jason went a lot smoother from then on, and Dick even started coming by more often again – even if it was just to see Jason and avoid Bruce. They never did manage to perfect that double-team attack to get their revenge on Bruce.

_____

Bruce didn’t think he’d ever escape the guilt he felt over how Tim’s training began. He didn’t think he deserved to either, especially when he would find Tim training on his own, working himself to the point of exhaustion or injury in order to achieve perfection. Now that Bruce was in his right mind and would end their joint training sessions at a more reasonable point, Tim would get frustrated with him and slink off to bury himself in cases instead.

When they sparred, there were no taunting remarks, no dirty tactics designed to draw a laugh out of the Batman, no playfulness as they both began to tire out and call an unofficial end to training. Tim took it all so seriously, and it was all Bruce’s fault. He did this to the boy, and now he had to fix it. He couldn’t rely on Dick to fix all the issues his “emotional constipation” caused, no matter how appealing the idea seemed. 

Unfortunately, Bruce was not good with words, and it’s not like Tim would have been likely to listen to them anyways. Fortunately, he has another idea – it’s what made Jason eventually relax in regards to training, at least. Not that Tim was Jason. He was getting better at not making those comparisons anymore.

Though it was a bit hypocritical for him to condemn, Tim had arrived at training that day already noticeably overworked. His moves were sloppy (though sloppy for a Bat was not the same as sloppy for anyone else) and he was clearly frustrated with own mistakes and shortcomings. Tim was good at keeping a lid on his temper, but Bruce could see the tension in his jaw, the furrow in his brow, the tightness in his lips. They had only been training for a fraction of their normal time before Bruce decided to put his plan into motion, unwilling to let Tim drive himself any further into the ground.

Bruce lunged forward, ducking under a sloppy block, and managed to tackle Tim to the mat, taking extra care to protect Tim’s head and neck. Tim grunted as they hit the mat, but immediately set to squirming away instead of tapping out just as Bruce predicted. Instead of grappling him and letting him get in some practice with breaking holds, Bruce levered himself up and immediately set to vibrating his fingers into Tim’s ribs. Tim yelped and and his squirming increased tenfold, his eyes going wide and shocked.

“Bruce! What are you doing?”

Bruce’s lips quirked up. “Your block was sloppy. I’m just showing you where you need to defend.” Bruce let one hand wriggle into his armpit while the other scurried down to his stomach.

“What are you– Why– What is– Bruce!” Tim’s voice went all high-pitched and warbly as he smacked uselessly at Bruce’s hands, clearly unsure how to even defend himself.

Bruce chuckled, even as his heart ached at Tim’s confusion with affection as simple as tickling. “A little laughter never hurt anyone, Tim. No reason why training needs to hurt.”

Before he could respond, Bruce’s hands jumped up to flutter around his neck and ears, just to see him scrunch up. And scrunch up Tim did, his shoulders jumping up as high as they could while Tim scrabbled for Bruce’s wrists and shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the fingers. Finally, the dam broke and Tim burst into boyish giggles, finally looking and sounding his age for the first time since he showed up and insisted that Batman needed a Robin.

And Tim had been right, Batman had needed a Robin. But it looked like maybe Tim needed a new family. Bruce made a mental note to look into the Drake’s parenting while keeping Tim in his newfound state of giggles. Hopefully after this they could convince Tim to take a nap. And if not, well, Dick had been dying for a movie night. If anyone could get Tim to take a break, it would be him.

_____

Bruce hadn’t overseen the start of Damian’s Robin training. Instead, that responsibility had fallen to Dick, though he had been wracked with grief and presumed Bruce dead at the time. Now that Bruce was back and prepared to take on the burden of Batman once again, he could see Dick’s teachings in almost every move Damian made, melding carefully with his training from the League of Assassins. But even still, he tackled his training with a single-minded determination that could put Tim or even Bruce himself to shame – that was one thing that had not changed while Bruce was lost in the timestream.

Sometimes, it seemed like one of the only things.

Still, that didn’t mean Bruce was prepared to let Damian overwork himself. He clearly had some hangups from his life in the League, and it didn’t seem as though anyone had worked it through his head that overtraining would only harm him in the long run. Up until now, during their spars, Bruce had used the same gentle taps that he’d used to train all his boys. When the next opening in Damian’s defenses came, Bruce didn’t stop to think about his actions, so used to the years of training with his other sons. He pinched gently at Damian’s exposed ribs, both to bring attention to his weak defense and to start the process of winding training down.

Damian made a startled, choked-off noise and went tense for a brief moment, but he recovered well, swiftly disengaging from Bruce’s attack. He eyed Bruce from the other end of the mat, still balanced on his toes and ready to fight despite the sweat dripping down his brow and the exhaustion Bruce could see pulling at his limbs.

“I expect this sort of behavior from someone as frivolous as Grayson,” Damian said. “But you, Father?”

Bruce allowed the corner of his mouth to tick up. “Who do you think taught it to him?”

“Tt.” Damian sneered. “As I’ve told Grayson numerous times – games such as these have no business on the training mats.” He sniffed. “Plus, I am not a child.”

Bruce stared Damian down, in all his four-and-a-half foot, ten-year-old glory. “Of course not.”

“So we may continue training without any more of this nonsense?”

Bruce allowed a full, broad smirk to cross his face. “If you don’t want to get tickled, don’t get caught.”

Damian’s eyes went wide, and for a moment he truly looked like the young and innocent boy he should have been, but they just as swiftly narrowed in determination as he lowered himself back into a fighting stance. Even as tired as he was, Damian was able to hold his own very well – clearly a skill born of necessity. Hopefully they could convince him to pace himself eventually.

But as skilled as he was, Damian was still just a child. Eventually, he slipped up and Bruce was able to slip under his defenses. A few pokes, prods, and pinches later, Damian was on the ground, red-faced as he tried not to laugh under Bruce’s tickling fingers.

“You know,” Bruce said. “I’m told it’s much better if you just let it out.”

Damian shook his head with a jerk, trying valiantly to escape Bruce’s clutches. Unfortunately for him, Bruce was well-versed in the pinning and tickling of trained child vigilantes. Damian finally broke, kicking out with a childish shriek, when Bruce started pinching the muscles just above his knees. If it were Dick or even Tim, Bruce might’ve started teasing to get into his head and make it tickle that much more. As it was, Bruce thought Damian might bite his head off if he tried. Instead he just grinned wide, chuckling along with Damian’s surprisingly shrill laughter, and kept his cooing about how adorable his son was in his own mind.

Bruce’s attack didn’t last long. He didn’t want to push Damian too far with how exhausted he already was. Not to mention, their relationship was tentative and hesitant enough already, with Damian trying to figure out how he fit with Bruce now after the relationship he had built with Dick. Bruce only kept Damian laughing for a few minutes before releasing him and giving his hair a suitable ruffle, much to Damian’s disdain.

Maybe they’d be able to figure this out after all

_____

It was rare these days for Bruce’s sons to all be in the Manor at the same time. Rarer still for them to have gathered together on the training mats, what with how many fratricide attempts had passed between the four of them. Bruce had been planning on doing some solo exercise before patrol, but now he found himself on edge as he cautiously approached the Cave’s training area.

Bruce set aside the tape he had grabbed for his knuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Boys.”

“Hey, B!” Dick chirped, grinning from where he hung upside down on one of the pullup bars. “Getting some training in?”

He raised an eyebrow, scanning over the four of them for injuries. “I was intending to.”

Jason scoffed from where he was stretching out on the training mats. He was in nothing but a t-shirt and sweats, the most dressed down Bruce had seen him since he’d come back to them. He wore his leather jacket like a shield these days, especially on the rare occasions he visited the Manor.

“Don’t let us stop you, old man.”

Bruce hummed, turning his gaze to his two youngest. “Tim. Damian.”

“Hi, Bruce.”

“Father.”

Dick flipped off the pushup bar with a flourish. “Up for a spar, Bruce? It’s been a while.”

Bruce scanned over the four boys again, eyes narrowing. “Did you break something?”

They blinked at him.

Dick frowned. “No– B, what?”

“Did someone crash the Batmobile?”

Tim cocked his head. “No?”

“Did–”

“Jesus Christ, B,” Jason groaned. “Is it so hard to believe we can get along for one hour?”

Bruce didn’t answer. Tim snorted.

“Fair.”

“Tt.”

Bruce looked them over for any hidden injuries one last time before he relented, turning back to Dick. “As long as your brothers don’t mind us taking up the space.”

Bruce’s sons vacated the mats, leaving just him and Dick behind. As usual, Dick was a skilled opponent. They hadn’t had much chance to spar recently, the only chance Bruce had to see him fight being out in the field, and he had certainly improved. He’d been doing this almost as long as Bruce after all, it only made sense that he’d be a formidable opponent. 

Eventually, Bruce went in for a grapple. Dick was shorter than he was, and his build much smaller due to his background in acrobatics. It was good for him to practice escaping the grip of someone larger and stronger than he was. Only, Dick’s returning grapple was much sloppier than Bruce remembered it being. He frowned, easily tackling Dick down to the mats.

Like second nature, Bruce’s fingers immediately tickled near one of the openings Dick had left in his defenses. He got little more than a squeaky yelp out of Dick before he was tackled from behind with a roar. It was a move that Jason and Dick had used often in training to mess with him, back when Jason was Robin. Back then, it wound up with both boys on the mats being tickled to pieces. Unfortunately for Bruce, Jason was now much larger and had the benefits of League training making his steps far quieter. Bruce rolled with the attack with a grunt, trying not to crush Dick under their combined weight, and started grappling with Jason instead.

“Getting rusty with age, old man?”

Bruce scoffed, trying not to smile lest he scare Jason off. He couldn’t help but feel like this was progress between the two of them. “Not likely.”

Jason was almost as large as Bruce now and matched him well in strength too, but in the end, Bruce’s experience won out. Just as he started gaining the upper hand, however, Dick launched on top of the both of them. Then Tim. Then Damian. Somewhere along the way, Jason had managed to slip out from under him, adding himself to the top of the pile. Bruce collapsed down to the training mats, pinned under their collective weight.

“That was kind of a sloppy block, Bruce,” Tim said from where he was perched on one of Bruce’s legs.

“Yeah, B, come on,” Dick said. “A mugger isn’t gonna fight fair, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at his children. “Boys–”

Jason clucked his tongue. “And no one to save the big, bad Batman.”

Bruce knew where this was going. He probably should’ve expected it honestly, after all those years of tickling his kids to the ground. It certainly wasn’t the first time any of them had sought revenge either, simply the first time they had decided to work together as a group since Bruce was able to take them down easily on their own (or even in duos, he recalled Jason’s Robin days fondly). He was their father, of course he knew what tickle spots would have them cackling on the mats in seconds, tears in their eyes. 

Unfortunately for them, though, Bruce had trained himself out of such reactions long ago – at least to an extent. He was well-versed in burying the sensation, blocking it out until it went away, and he could hold out for quite some time. Probably more than long enough for them to get bored. There was only one weak spot that he’d never been able to block out, but they would never–

Dick gave an evil grin from where he sat on one of Bruce’s arms, reaching out and fluttering fingers behind one of Bruce’s ears. On his other side, Jason chuckled under his breath and did the same.

–Damn it, they brought Alfred into it.

Bruce let out a strangled, high-pitched noise before clamping his lips shut. He shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the tormenting fingers, but his children were nothing if not tenacious.

“Come on, Bruce,” Dick goaded. “It’s so much better if you just let yourself laugh!”

“Yeah, B,” Tim said, his fingers resting on Bruce’s side, seemingly waiting for a signal. “A little laughter never hurt anyone, right?”

“Boys,” Bruce bit out, swallowing around the snickers trying to burst out of his throat. “Cut it out.”

“If you did not want to get tickled, Father, then you should not have gotten caught.”

He raised such little shits. His own revenge for this would be swift and ruthless. The boys didn’t stand a chance. But first, he had to free himself.

Bruce tried to twist his arms out from under Dick and Jason’s weight, the tickling not having weakened him yet thanks to him holding back his laughter. Jason scoffed and added another hand to his tickling against the side of Bruce’s neck, Dick quickly following suit. And unfortunately, with the fingers behind his ears already driving him insane, Bruce had little brainpower left to block out the sensation on his neck.

Bruce broke.

His laughter came out quick, sporadic, and embarrassingly high-pitched. He tried to jerk his head away from the tickling fingers, but with Dick and Jason on either side of him, it was impossible to escape. Not to mention, apparently his laughter was the signal his youngest were waiting for, as after a few moments they both dug into their own respective spots. Tim’s hands spidered and squiggled and dug in around his side and stomach, while Damian began squeezing the muscles just above his knee, tickling around and behind it. It took all of Bruce’s self control to not kick out and throw him off – Damian was still so small, Bruce didn’t want to accidentally hurt him.

His laughter turned loud and booming as his kids switched around their spots, tickling anywhere they could reach. It echoed throughout the training area and into the Cave proper, the bats screeching in discontent as the noise disturbed their slumber.

“Damn, old man, how did none of us know you were this ticklish?”

“There you go, B! Does that tickle? That’s what you get!”

“Sorry, Bruce, but you do kinda deserve this.”

Unsurprisingly, Damian did not add into the teasing. His tickling was vicious enough to make up for it – he clearly paid far too much attention to tactics whenever Bruce or Dick tickled him to the ground. Bruce was oddly proud.

To Bruce, it felt like years before the tickling finally tapered off, though in reality he knew it hadn’t been more than several minutes. His laughter had gone hoarse, his throat and vocal chords far more used to his fake Brucie laugh than anything this genuine for this long. There was sweat dripping down his face and neck, and his muscles ached – his upper body from trying to free himself from his eldest boys, and his legs from keeping himself tense enough that he wouldn’t kick out and injure his youngest two. And embarrassingly enough, tears had gathered in his eyes, though none had managed to fall free just yet. As his boys climbed off him, Bruce could do little more than lay there and gasp for air, pushing down any residual laughter as he tried to compose himself.

“I see the revenge was a success,” Alfred said from the edge of the training mats. There was a water bottle in his hand, chilled and dripping with condensation. Bruce reached for it gratefully.

“Traitor,” he murmured under his breath.

Alfred heard it anyway, based on the unimpressed eyebrow he raised at Bruce. “If I remember correctly, Master Bruce, Master Dick was not the only little boy who ran around asking to play Tickle Monster.”

Heat flooded Bruce’s face as his children burst into laughter around him. He chugged down the water he had been given to hide the fact that he had no retort for that. Still, there was no mistaking the fond smile on Alfred’s face.

After all, a father always knew what tickle spots would take down his kid in seconds.